Monday, June 22, 2015

Pleasant little burglaries

I've been staying productive, I think. Yesterday I finally, finally finished the editing process on the fifth book, and earlier that week received a release date of September 1. There've been some policy changes so the cover is getting done last. I think all in all, I made some progress professionally. There was a snafu with my editor of choice, so the editor in chief ended up working with my on my manuscript. I might have mentioned it, that becoming a positive interaction. She even went so far as to say that she would "be happy working with me on my future projects," which I took to be a positive sign. Even if it was a little thing like I was easier to work with, that means something I think.

Someone suggested that I start a fictionpress profile, as a way to garner readers. I didn't really get it, but this person had more readers than me, so I could hardly write the advice off. So, I did. I'm still working on getting everything sorted out. I put up the prelude story that precedes the first book in the Where Shadows Lie series. Maybe if anyone ends up asking if there's any more to the story, I can direct them with a link. Though, that feels like it's essentially me saying "Sure, give me money." Another friend recently picked up my first book, in the midst of a concussion recovery no less, saying that I deserved to get paid for my work. That was really nice.

Also, I've been interviewed again for that first book, also. That was also more luck. I got an email last night from the writer who hosts, and I had completely forgotten. I did the interview before it was hot outside, so several months ago. Maybe it's fortuitous that things are occurring in such close proximity. I really hope I get to discover how it all works. From the outside looking in success seems to be equal parts preparation and luck, with preparation being composed of bits of networking and diligence. I'll let you know when I know.

Last weekend I struggled out half a chapter for the sci fi novel. I wasn't happy with it, as one might imagine, but I was happy that I started. I got it to a turning point, where all I have to do, in theory, is bring it home. It was more difficult than I had thought to keep that momentum up while I was starting and stopping edits on the other book at random intervals. I realize that I really am one for schedules. The day of, I resent my past self for bargaining my time away, but it's much better than feeling robbed on a sudden whim.

The work with  my colleague has been interesting as well. Interacting with someone who's purpose it is to write a story, or counter narrative wrapped inside the epoche concept, that has no real understanding or practice of what the elements of a story are, or could be. I've been told, in our meetings in stylish about town coffee houses, that I could present myself as a dissertation doctor. The concept seemed oxymoronic, not having a graduate education myself, but I accepted the compliment, as I do with any positive regard.

Sometimes I look up and wonder at how my weeks wrap around one another, serpents of time eating one another's tails. I'm happy to say that I haven't grown any negative feelings about it though, like useless appendages. I guess a little tired for a lot of work is better than equitable trade.

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