The other night, I was lying in bed, ruminating on what I might write for my next posting. As I began to drift off to sleep, I thought about my husband’s hair and how it was a metaphor for the manuscript revision process. No, I wasn’t just floating in that place between consciousness and unconsciousness–let me explain.

Over the course of our marriage, my husband has had a long and arduous struggle with his hair. When I first met him, his hair was a light brown color and fell almost to his shoulders. Even though it didn’t have a lot of style, it was one of the things I really liked about him.

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