I still find it really weird to think of myself as a novelist

I vividly recall the decision to write my first novel. It was about this time, four years ago, in the spring of my 23^rd year. I’d made my first professional sale (to Nature) about a year before. Since then, it’d been nothing but rejection (I’d have another year to go until I made another one). Furthermore, in their rejection letters, editors kept tellin…