Every time I publish something, there’s a horrific typo. That’s what happens when you’re a solo writer — there’s no one to catch your screw pups.
But Real Writers Ship Often, anyway.
I have a 30,000 word novella sitting on an old, dead computer. I’m glad it’s there. It’s rotten milk mixed with piss-covered shit.
A 5,000-word draft in Medium I’m afraid to publish. It took me three weeks.