The Christmas blues are upon me. It's starting to affect my every day life. We have had way WAY too much of it this year, too many houseguests, too many gatherings, just too much period. I'm ready for life to get back to normal, calmer, less stress, less cooking, less have-tos, less. We have one more thing, and then it's over. I'll be taking down all the decorations probably by Christmas Day night.
And isn't it just pitiful that it isn't even officially Christmas yet and I already feel this way? What has happened to us that we make ourselves insane with all this STUFF that is supposed to be fun? Part of the trouble, I think, is this "memory" thing we humans have in our brains. I want to make new memories, but it's hard to let go of the old memories, and I still feel all the old demands even though they really aren't there anymore. Unless I make them be there, which I have a habit of doing. More and more, I think ignoring the holidays sounds like a good idea. Or at the very least, doing something COMPLETELY different, like booking a cruise, or taking a road trip. Wouldn't it be nice to spend Christmas in a B&B somewhere like Ireland, where the traditions are their own, and where we would be forced to think outside the box, as they say? Next year, we plan to go to the cabin early and spend Christmas there. I think that sounds wonderful.
The children's book I wrote earlier this year has come back form-rejected from yet another publisher. Guess it isn't as outstanding and original as I thought. Also guess credentials don't mean much. I'm surprised by the form rejections. I'm also surprised by how long it takes to get a response. Publishing has certainly changed since the 90s. If I had someone who could illustrate the book, I swear, I would self-publish the damned thing.
This little book has been a sort of tipping my toe in, testing the water again. And I don't like the chill I'm feeling. It doesn't do much to make me want to finish the endless novel, that's for sure. Yet, I have been contacted by two readers in the past month who had just read one of my books and wanted to get in touch. Both felt moved enough to write to me, and that just shows me that the kind of books I have written and would like to write again, are not out of style. I think it's the publisher's who get it wrong, but then, I've had that opinion for a long long time.
Onward .....
Showing posts with label publishing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label publishing. Show all posts
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
The Measure of Success
Well, the good news is, I finally put the children's book onto the computer. I write my first drafts in longhand, always have. So by the time my work gets put on the computer, it's already been through two drafts. So now, I have a second draft of the children's book, and it's not nearly as awful as I had imagined it to be. I think there is great value in letting a piece of writing sit. Or cook. Giving it a time out, so to speak.
This book was written right after a trip to West Texas at the beginning of the year. It's been cooking now for about six months. When I first wrote it down, I really had no idea what I was doing. I had never, at least not on purpose, written a children's book. I have had many ideas for one, just never actually tackled the beast. As soon as I had the first handwritten draft, I understood how difficult it is to write a children's book. It's a mistake to think that because it's a short piece it's easy. Short writing is often the hardest kind. In the beginning I was so unhappy with the thing, I just took the pages and stuck them inside the laptop case and forgot about them.
And then I started reading about writing children's books. I made a list of books to read, even though I've done a lot of that already, having raised two children myself, both of whom loved to hear me read books. When reviewing books for the newspaper, I would often get assigned the children's books that came in, so I have done a bit of reading for children. But still, you can never educate yourself too much. So I have a list of books to read, and will do that as soon as we return from the trip we're about to go on to Montana.
I'm actually excited about this book, now that it's gone through it's second draft. There's still work to be done, but I decided Sunday, after I had worked on it all afternoon, that I would not reread it again until we're back from the mountains next week. And yet, I find myself wondering if I still have a few contacts that matter at a couple of publishing houses I've dealt with -- and wondering how to find out about that, too. Things change so quickly, and have changed dramatically since I've had a book published -- any book. But that's putting the cart before the horse, something I've preached against in past workshops. Get the thing written, a final draft, then worry about a publisher.
Why is it that writers, many writers anyway, don't consider any kind of work that doesn't result in a published book to be "real writing?" This puzzles me. It's as if the only measure of success is to have something between hard covers. I am constantly asked when I'm going to have another book published. Answering that question is one of the reason I've sequestered myself away from people and places where books and writing are commonly discussed. Most of the people around me now don't really think of me as a writer, at least not a writer of books, and that's OK. That's actually much more comfortable for me. I feel less pressured, and the outside pressure has been one of the things keeping my writing at bay. And anyway, isn't there real value in just writing for pleasure, maybe for posterity, or even just for yourself?
We are still not done with the roofers. I cannot believe how long it has taken them to re-roof this house. Yesterday I made a list of things they had destroyed along with replacement costs. I intend to present the list to the contractor when he asks for his final payment.
This book was written right after a trip to West Texas at the beginning of the year. It's been cooking now for about six months. When I first wrote it down, I really had no idea what I was doing. I had never, at least not on purpose, written a children's book. I have had many ideas for one, just never actually tackled the beast. As soon as I had the first handwritten draft, I understood how difficult it is to write a children's book. It's a mistake to think that because it's a short piece it's easy. Short writing is often the hardest kind. In the beginning I was so unhappy with the thing, I just took the pages and stuck them inside the laptop case and forgot about them.
And then I started reading about writing children's books. I made a list of books to read, even though I've done a lot of that already, having raised two children myself, both of whom loved to hear me read books. When reviewing books for the newspaper, I would often get assigned the children's books that came in, so I have done a bit of reading for children. But still, you can never educate yourself too much. So I have a list of books to read, and will do that as soon as we return from the trip we're about to go on to Montana.
I'm actually excited about this book, now that it's gone through it's second draft. There's still work to be done, but I decided Sunday, after I had worked on it all afternoon, that I would not reread it again until we're back from the mountains next week. And yet, I find myself wondering if I still have a few contacts that matter at a couple of publishing houses I've dealt with -- and wondering how to find out about that, too. Things change so quickly, and have changed dramatically since I've had a book published -- any book. But that's putting the cart before the horse, something I've preached against in past workshops. Get the thing written, a final draft, then worry about a publisher.
Why is it that writers, many writers anyway, don't consider any kind of work that doesn't result in a published book to be "real writing?" This puzzles me. It's as if the only measure of success is to have something between hard covers. I am constantly asked when I'm going to have another book published. Answering that question is one of the reason I've sequestered myself away from people and places where books and writing are commonly discussed. Most of the people around me now don't really think of me as a writer, at least not a writer of books, and that's OK. That's actually much more comfortable for me. I feel less pressured, and the outside pressure has been one of the things keeping my writing at bay. And anyway, isn't there real value in just writing for pleasure, maybe for posterity, or even just for yourself?
We are still not done with the roofers. I cannot believe how long it has taken them to re-roof this house. Yesterday I made a list of things they had destroyed along with replacement costs. I intend to present the list to the contractor when he asks for his final payment.
Onward ....
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