And, another one:
You Did the Right Thing
Nothing is permanent. Nothing stays the same, not even the assurance we take like vitamins for our sanity, day after living day.
Today's pill contains a maintenance dose of "I did the right thing." Toss my head back, hoping I don't choke, swallowing before the coating dissolves and the bitter taste comes through, destroying its efficacy: I Did The Right Thing.
Gulp it down. A slithery aftertaste of "he was stronger without you, you did right to leave" drops a sour reminder of what happens when the assurance wears off.
But for now, it's a truth pill. "You did the right thing."
Thanks, Jesse--I emailed him/her a description of my services and fees.
It's normal, isn't it, that 24 hours after a conference, in which an editor and agent requested partials, that I'm looking at my first three chapters, seeing nothing but flaws, and saying, "Self, you are a rank, arrogant amateur. What makes you think you're ready to play with the big girls?"
Really, it's just the first eight pages or so, where I keep having to explain stuff without breaking up the action too much. It feels clunky and unnatural. It gets better once I'm not introducing 6 characters at once, but it's the first 8 pages that have to hook them in. And I can't think how to fix them yet.
It's normal, isn't it, that 24 hours after a conference, in which an editor and agent requested partials, that I'm looking at my first three chapters, seeing nothing but flaws, and saying, "Self, you are a rank, arrogant amateur. What makes you think you're ready to play with the big girls?"
Wait until the first time you hit print. The VERY FIRST paragraph you flip to will contain a typo. Guaranteed.
t snerk
Problem is, with this lot, the werewolves and vampires would kill them all, and there'd be no more story. Unless that's when Lucy discovers she's the Slayer......
The VERY FIRST paragraph you flip to will contain a typo. Guaranteed.
Or a phrase you'll glare at, thinking out loud "What in HELL was I thinking, to write it that way?!?!?!?"
Hmph. I'm not planning to send the partials right away, but in 2-3 weeks. That buys me a little more time for my rewrite, in case either requests a full. (I do plan to mention in my cover letter that I'm in the midst of a big rewrite which I anticipate finishing by such-and-such date, just to cover my bases in case I'm the one person ever in the history of mankind whose partial gets read and loved right away.) So I think I'll just go through those 8 pages or so, highlight everything that feels clunky, and have another hack at it in a week or so after the post-conference self-doubt demons have been temporarily banished.
I'm going to mail out nice thank-you notes to both the editor and the agent tomorrow saying how much I enjoyed meeting with them and letting them know I'll mail the requested partials by the end of the month. One of my friends at the conference suggested that, and I thought it sounded like a wise idea.
Oh, yes (on the thank-you notes). Good manners are always a good idea, and in this instance, they get you remembered nicely.
