Recently, I was sitting at my favourite cafe with my netbook, working on revisions to my WIP. I no longer remember exactly how the conversation started, but a stranger who claimed to be an English teacher became rather curious about my activities.
I told him I’m writing a novel. When asked, I said it’s a modern fantasy called Gypsy Fiddle. Then he asked, “Where is it set?”
“Harrisburg,” I answered, my tone completely casual.
“Really? And can people tell it’s Harrisburg?”
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