I haven't always written short stories. Truth be told, I started out as a novelist.

Now, granted, I was twelve years old at the time, and my work meandered from one action scene to the next with no clear idea on how the story would end (I was a true pantser)—but they were novels. My favorite would have to be Westward, Tally Ho! (65,000 words) about a young English aristocrat searching for his butler's long-lost daughter in the American Old West. It still makes me laugh.

Noveling went on hold in college, and while I occasionally found time to write a short story, I eventually allowed my writing to stagnate. It took me ten years to climb back into the saddle.

In 2008, I wrote When the Skies Fell (145,000 words; post-apocalyptic SF), polished it up, and at the insistence of my supportive wife, queried it with 26 agents. Three requested partials, but there were no takers. I set the manuscript aside and started another one.

I finished Time's Eye (155,000 words; future noir) in 2009 and queried it with 40 agents; I received 2 partial requests, 1 full request, but no takers. "To the back burner, Robin!" I started another.

In 2010, I wrote Waiting for You (110,000 words; YA thriller), queried it 23 times, received 2 partial requests, but there were no takers. You guessed it: I started another.

Last year, Write1Sub1 focused all of my energy on writing and submitting new short stories every week. Progeny languished at 86,000 words for months. But this week, I finished the first draft (145,000 words; a sequel to When the Skies Fell) and will start the revision process next month.

No more sitting on the sidelines. This year, my novels are getting back in the game.
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