If he'd just kept the information to himself.
If he'd just refused to send it to me.
If he'd remembered I don't write in that genre.
If, if, if.
He didn't do any of these things. So, beyond tempted, I decided to write a short story set in a dystopian world. Of course, I knew nothing about dystopian worlds. Nothing, let me emphasize that.
But the temptation was there, and I yielded.
I took a crash (and I mean, crash!) course about that genre. My son reads that along with many other genres guided me through it, criticizing, critiquing, offering suggestions, and well...just was with me all the way as I wrote, erased, changed, added some new thoughts, and rewrote, rewrote, rewrote...you get the picture.
Sent in to see how I did, I wait, with bated breath, rapidly beating heart and worried mind.
Whether I get an A, of sorts, laughter, or dismissal and a heavily worded retort to return to my suspense and mystery writing, I'm happy I attempted it.
Now, I wait...
Happy writing!
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