Maybe You Need to Dig That Old Idea Out of the Trash?

Turns out I did.

Back when I was a delusional youth, living in Manhattan under the mistaken belief that a writer should live near her publisher and agent, I was working on what I imagined would be my third novel.

While I looked successful on the outside—I was regularly shuttled in Town Cars to the Fox News building to give my not-that-interesting take on many things¹—the …