In the interest of full disclosure, here’s an update of my (meager) previous postings:

— Simon and Garfunkel never made it to Edmonton.

— My daughter, even though she had her own pair, ended up with my shoes.

— I gave up on trying to rewrite that old mystery novel.  Somethings should be left in the box.

— Harlequin rejected my romance novel at the query/synopsis stage.

— I never did hear from Mr. Really Big Agent about Stone Cloud.  I guess that means no.  Too bad.  I’m pretty sure the world could really use another vampire novel.

Strangely, the only thing that upsets me is the shoes.


back at it

Today:  12 degrees C or about 53 degrees F  Sunny

I took a day and a half off.  It was great.  But an opening line popped into my head, begging me to write it.   So I did.

Big mistake.

I am working on rewriting a mystery I wrote twenty years ago.  I loved the idea then; I was obsessed by it.  I wrote the bulk of it in ten days and it was short-listed for a provincial novel-writing competition.  But I was never happy with it, and always thought I would get back to it.  In the meantime, I put it aside and went on to other things.  But this line jumped out at me and I was hooked.

I think I have a hard copy of the old manuscript somewhere.  I don’t know whether to look for it or not.  Not that it matters.  What I’m writing now is very different from what I wrote then.  The plot is basically the same, but the details will be different, as well as the voice. I wrote 7,000 words this weekend.  Not a bad start.

That’s Lola at three months.  She is now nine months old

and desperately needs a haircut.

Revision makes the writer nuts

Now: -6C

So I figured out what pushes me through revision, after revision, after revision . . . . My eagerness to get on to the next story impatiently waiting to be told.  I notice some writers have several things going at once–a couple of novels, a few short stories.  I’m not sure how they do it.  I can’t.  One thing at a time, please.  Divide loyalties does not a healthy manuscript make.  I’m loopy enough as it is, I don’t need to push myself over the edge, thank you very much.

Revision on romance novel goes well, better than I expected, especially since I have figured out the end.  But it’s a romance, you say.  Piece of cake.  They live happily ever after.  Not so fast, I say.  There  is happily ever after–who gives a fig?  Not a good happily ever after, that one. Must do better . . .  so I revise some more until I get to HAPPILY EVER AFTER.  I’m getting there . . . .

Revising is Hell

I love writing.  Really, I do.  Revising, however, is another story.  Somedays I’d rather eat worms.  How is it that something that flowed out of my brain at the rate of a non-stop high-speed train now just sits at the platform like the little-engine-that-couldn’t?  Doesn’t it know I have things to do, queries to write, agents to email?

Please, someone explain this to me.