Ack! It's there, in my inbox, the long awaited first pass from my editor. I hesitate to open it, my stomach bottoming to my feet then climbing back up and into my throat. Kinda like the feeling you get on a roller coaster. I don't like roller coasters, never did, still don't. Consequently, that excited, optimistic, overjoyed feeling of a manuscript being returned after editing, has never happened to me--and never will.
I have no idea how other writers feel because I haven't asked them. I could, I suppose, but bringing up my obvious insecurities suck so I prefer to announce them to the world through my blog, not one on one. That is far too personal.
*sigh*
Of course, the e-mail is still sitting there in my inbox, unopened. *taps fingers* While I write this blog.
At this point I could grab a drink--of water--because I have Crohn's disease, but I would much prefer something stronger. That is not doable at this point in time. I don't have any tranquilizers or anything else that will stop the pounding of my heart and the staccato pin pricks of knife-like anxiety hammering my stomach.
I take a deep breath and double click while closing my eyes. I don't open them for a few minutes because, well, because if I don't then what is now on my computer isn't real until I acknowledge it.
I learned this from my dog, Aggie. She's a pure bred fox terrier a friend left me when she passed on. Aggie was rescued from a puppy mill, her being the mother of numerous litters until she grew too old and was destined for the gas chamber. We have four dogs and if one of the other dogs barks or growls at Aggie, she'll turn her body and face the other direction. You can try to get her to look back, or move, or something, but she'll sit facing the opposite direction until the danger is over. Not that there was any danger to begin with. It is as if she wills the dog, bark, growl, away until she's ready to move on. She's an odd one, my Aggie. I can identify.
One eye slides open.
Louann-- Overall, the manuscript flows quite well and the characters and storyline grow sensibly from the first Gemini Rising novel into this sequel.
Good! She likes it! Happiness leaps.
Although your strategy to dangle bits of information to the reader like a carrot leading a horse is an effective took to engage the readers, I feel that too many questions left unanswered for several chapters end up confusing the readers.
OMg. She hates it. No middle ground for me. It's either/or. I haven't been able to move beyond this comment. Suck it up, Lucille. Yes, that is my real name. Sssshhhh, don't tell anyone. *finger to lips*
As I flip through to the next page, I get it. And it's not as bad as I'd hoped or as good as I wished. My entire life has been this way. My goal is to write a novel that needs little to no editing. I realize this is impossible, but hey, one must have a goal. I wonder why I don't want a NYT best seller rather than an edit free book. Must say something about my hatred of criticism.
But then I wonder: Why do I hate criticism?
"I haven't any right to criticize books, and I don't do it except when I hate them. I often criticize Jane Austen, but her books madden me so that I can't conceal my frenzy from the reader: and therefore I have to stop every time I begin. Every time I read Pride and Prejudice, I want to dig her up and beat her over the skull with her own shin-bone." --Mark Twain
Well, at least no one has threatened to break my head open with one of my bones. Dear, dear, Mark Twain. *shakes head*
And so, the opening salvo read and digested, I am on my way into the first chapter. More on that next week and thank-you for dropping by my blog.
Blessings to all!
Louann
I have no idea how other writers feel because I haven't asked them. I could, I suppose, but bringing up my obvious insecurities suck so I prefer to announce them to the world through my blog, not one on one. That is far too personal.
*sigh*
Of course, the e-mail is still sitting there in my inbox, unopened. *taps fingers* While I write this blog.
At this point I could grab a drink--of water--because I have Crohn's disease, but I would much prefer something stronger. That is not doable at this point in time. I don't have any tranquilizers or anything else that will stop the pounding of my heart and the staccato pin pricks of knife-like anxiety hammering my stomach.
I take a deep breath and double click while closing my eyes. I don't open them for a few minutes because, well, because if I don't then what is now on my computer isn't real until I acknowledge it.
I learned this from my dog, Aggie. She's a pure bred fox terrier a friend left me when she passed on. Aggie was rescued from a puppy mill, her being the mother of numerous litters until she grew too old and was destined for the gas chamber. We have four dogs and if one of the other dogs barks or growls at Aggie, she'll turn her body and face the other direction. You can try to get her to look back, or move, or something, but she'll sit facing the opposite direction until the danger is over. Not that there was any danger to begin with. It is as if she wills the dog, bark, growl, away until she's ready to move on. She's an odd one, my Aggie. I can identify.
One eye slides open.
Louann-- Overall, the manuscript flows quite well and the characters and storyline grow sensibly from the first Gemini Rising novel into this sequel.
Good! She likes it! Happiness leaps.
Although your strategy to dangle bits of information to the reader like a carrot leading a horse is an effective took to engage the readers, I feel that too many questions left unanswered for several chapters end up confusing the readers.
OMg. She hates it. No middle ground for me. It's either/or. I haven't been able to move beyond this comment. Suck it up, Lucille. Yes, that is my real name. Sssshhhh, don't tell anyone. *finger to lips*
As I flip through to the next page, I get it. And it's not as bad as I'd hoped or as good as I wished. My entire life has been this way. My goal is to write a novel that needs little to no editing. I realize this is impossible, but hey, one must have a goal. I wonder why I don't want a NYT best seller rather than an edit free book. Must say something about my hatred of criticism.
But then I wonder: Why do I hate criticism?
"I haven't any right to criticize books, and I don't do it except when I hate them. I often criticize Jane Austen, but her books madden me so that I can't conceal my frenzy from the reader: and therefore I have to stop every time I begin. Every time I read Pride and Prejudice, I want to dig her up and beat her over the skull with her own shin-bone." --Mark Twain
Well, at least no one has threatened to break my head open with one of my bones. Dear, dear, Mark Twain. *shakes head*
And so, the opening salvo read and digested, I am on my way into the first chapter. More on that next week and thank-you for dropping by my blog.
Blessings to all!
Louann
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