I'm going to wait until the last rejection comes in on Tuesday. They're "trying to make the numbers work."

Lulu will cost me about $1500 for an initial print run, and I have a bit socked away so it won't hurt so bad. I think it's worth it, I just need to come up with a good marketing plan.

Sorry about the rejections. I hope all works out well with whatever path you take.

Thanks, Gud. Rejection is all part of it, and it stings for a bit, but then, back on the horse.

We'll see what happens next week with the last publisher, and then I'll start working on the lulu thing. After a drink.

As you might know, I've started doing Script Frenzy this month...well, I made a tiny stab, actually. But I'd really like to see a script from PI show that I don't have to pay for, but... Anyway, I've been reading a lot of scripts and it's funny the stuff different writers put in. David Shore's House scripts have little snarky bits in the scene descriptions. David Simon's Wire scripts have parenthetical directions like McNULTY,although that was not his name at first, (who the fuck cares?) or (the hell with it) as opposed to, say, what I might do.
MCNULTY (indifferent)

I'm now almost done with Chapter 3, again. The area from the end of Chapter 3 to the end of Chapter 7 is being cut and replaced with something shorter and faster paced. Also, I'm changing the POV in Chapter 3. Most of that chapter I had changed away from the MC in my first revision, but it always bugged me to have that POV change so early. Now the POV will stay with the MC as in the original draft.

Something I've discovered is my almost total inability to figure out how my book reads for me. There are times it seems like total dreck, but then I was listening to my current draft while driving and it seemed fine compared to the audiobook I'd been listening to.

One positive thing, my Dad is reading my current revision (up to chapter 10 now) and said he's getting into it. A biased opinion but she also said there are moments of humor which felt good since I don't think that's something you'd say just to be positive, considering the genre.

I finished Chapter 3 and have moved onto Chapter 4 which is a mish-mash of former Chapters 5 and 26 (it sounds weird combining two chapters that far apart, but a lot of Chapter 26 I wanted to move up to better establish my character Savin).

I've been reading a bit on developing secondary characters. I think my main character's sidekick is interesting and has plenty of personality. Past that, I need to do some work. I'm gonna have to think on how to better define characters without burning through a lot of words.

Meant to post this here instead of Natter.

Awesome cover Barb!

I finished by Chapter 5 and Chapter 26 mash up. I'm no to chapter 5 which is a Chapter 4 and Chapter 7 mash up with a bit of new stuff in the middle. Then it's small changes for the next few chapters. There's only three significant plot changes I'm making and this part is the first one.

From the feedback I'm getting I think the story is sound, but the words need work. I sometimes wonder if I can ever get it to sound the way I'd like.

I expressed my doubt on my blog and my wife when through and mostly just took out words in the beginning she didn't think needed to be there and sent it to me. I hacked out some more. It made me feel better since this bit of quick editing consisting mostly of hitting the delete button smoothed things out quite a bit to my ear.

Original (528) Words

Demons. Aimee didn’t fight demons. For that matter, she didn’t fight anything. Her job entailed creating devices at her workbench. Yet here she was, heart thudding and sweat dripping off the tip of her nose. Why didn’t I have the sense to stay behind as the Captain ordered? Why did I think I needed to prove myself and my new invention?

Time to be brave and do my duty. She took a deep breath and peeled herself away from the false security of the wall next to her. At the other end of the manor hall, she could see a body laying across the threshold of an open door. Blood still dripped from the torn chest, spreading a pool around the corpse and oozing down the grooves of the tiled floor. The blank eyes belonged to Gaston, a fellow Guard member. Aimee had never liked him much, but that seemed so unimportant now. She couldn’t believe she’d never hear another one of his self-aggrandizing stories. No sign existed of the town militiamen who bravely ran into the manor with Gaston.

An odor hammered her senses, something between the scent of a wet dog and rotting flesh that raised bile into her throat and threatened to make her retch. She forced herself to breathe through her mouth to lessen the effect. From the opening behind Gaston she heard wet crunching noises punctuated by a sort of snuffling; the sounds of whatever killed Gaston and probably the militiamen as well.

Aimee stood frozen, struggling to gather her courage. Act as if, her mother always told her. Act as though she wasn’t terrified and maybe she'd find herself less afraid. Maybe.

Footsteps echoed on the tile behind her, making her jump and nearly drop her self-named incinerator. She whipped around, gripping her invention like a vice, and almost incinerated a knight of the Order. The device looked like nothing more than a foot long copper tube attached to a wooden handle, but it packed more energy than anything Aimee ever made before. The knight would never know how close a call he just had. “Get out of here. This is a matter for the Order,” he commanded as he ran past, never taking his eyes from the doorway ahead.

This idiot might get us both killed. As if triggered by her thought, she heard a growl that made the glow lamps in the hallway rattle. A second later, the beast burst out of the doorway, bounding over Gaston's body and slipping on the pool of blood as it turned the corner. The horror resembled a huge mange-afflicted hound with bloody fangs the size of daggers and a hide covered with hair and bony plates. With terrifying quickness, it charged toward them.

Aimee brought up her weapon, she'd have only one chance.

The knight knocked her to the side as he charged the creature. The monster lunged at him, fangs bared. He raised his shield but the force slammed him into a wall. Wooden lath splintered and plaster poured down. The knight did not get back to his feet. Through the fog of plaster dust, the beast turned its gaze upon her.