The road to publication is filled with “firsts” for authors – so many that we sometimes forget that we”re pulling others through the looking glass with us. Case in point: my mother. I owe my lifelong love of books and writing in no small part to my mother’s influence. She read to me. She taught me to read. She bought me books and paper and crayons and listened to me read my (likely nonsensical) whimsies over the years. She encouraged and supported me – and she financed a trip to an early writers’ conference (over a decade ago) that set
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