Sunday, January 15, 2012

stuck up world

It's a curious world for the author who either rubs against the contract by carrying the dream or tilts with her own place in the world. What rights do the dreamers have? All at once there is the option of self publishing or accepting the fine margins of the editor's market. I recently received a sweet rejection; my title didn't fit their market and they were only accepting two manuscripts for the year. So you think you can write? Absolutely, if you are free enough to part with the hand that feeds and trust your passion. Life could be better than that.
The manuscript itself seemed polished enough, according to appraisals. I will toss it back in the mail to other publishers, and move on. I put my ear to the sky for another book to work on. I have several in process, if writing is ever so sterile as to call it a process. I was once told to write the book that begs to be written, so I was asking. A story that was started about ten years ago piggy backed me as I listened, it pleaded and growled as I tried to look at the others. I've loved it and hated it over the years. It's made me laugh and cry, but was never quite right. I had hacked it and started over so many times that it almost felt redundant. But I still care about the main character.
I must make him live.
It's all in my hands.

No comments:

Post a Comment