Yesterday I found in the mailbox a copy of Becoming A Writer by Dorothea Brande. Woo! Could the kind soul who sent it to me please speak up so I can thank you properly? I'm a few chapters into it now and it's a great read. It was originally written in 1934 but still reads fresh as a daisy. And she's a witty old broad. It's not condescending or wanky like some writing books can be.