Nothing slows down my progress like being sick. My brain ceases to function properly and words seem to get bogged down in a haze. If I could zap this ache out of my muscles I might feel better, but I doubt it.
OK, I took the big plunge this week and sent my book to a MAJOR publisher. If they accept it I will dance naked in the living room, well maybe in the shower! But my editor thinks it good enough, so I'm taking JD's advice and going straight to one of the top publishers in SciFi/Fantasy. I still have several other queries and proposal packages out there, I'm sure someone will bite. I just hope it's a reputable company.
Did a little work this week on another book, completely different from CATALYST. I need to step back from that story until Book One sells. Book Two is almost completely sketched out, just the ending to flesh out. Vivi knows where she wants this book to end and Book Three to begin, but I've lived with her for over a year now and, honestly, I need a break from her. For a fictional character living in my head she sure can be bossy!
The new book is the fulfillment of a promise to my daughter. This book is about horses and girls and the fulfillment of first love. About as far from a post apocalyptic earth trilogy as a person can move, but she wanted a story she could relate to. Since she's an almost teenager, who loves horses, it seems a good fit.
I need to put my life in some sort of order. Laundry, taxes, paperwork, regular work, dishes - right now everything seems to be piling up in big heaps. Some day I might actually win the Mega Millions or Power ball and then I can devote my days to writing and riding. But now, everything has to take it place. Another thing being sick won't help me figure out.
But I would rather just write. I can occupy me for hours, putting me into a world of my own creation. I get excited when I see where the story is moving. Some times it's my direction but mostly I let the characters tell their story. Why? It's more important to see where they want to move events to. These really are their stories, I am just the external typist recording everything for posterity.
But I hope Evie and Vivienne and the others don't catch my cold. Too many people whining in my head makes for one hell of a migraine!