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In Leahs Wake

Did I Just Hammer a Nail Into My Bookstore's Coffin?

Holly Robinson | Posted 03.10.2012 | Books
Holly Robinson

Who am I to think that my novel is good enough to be published? Am I now as pathetic as those street poets I used to see in Berkeley, peddling their sappy, mistake-laden chapbooks for a dollar a copy? And how the hell does a writer act as her own publicist?