Helping Through the Millennia

I have a sister, but we’re one of those sibling groups that’s not been the closest, which is putting it about as loose as one can get.  We’ve went years without speaking, and when we have, it’s been a lot of pleasantries and not much else.  We don’t share the same interests and we have different personalities.  If I really want to be blunt about it, she’s pushy and loud, set on getting her way no matter what.  She, with the rest of my family, live many states away, so having to be in physical contact with her is something that happens once in a decade, if that often.

It isn’t necessary to have any kind of meaningful conversations with her during this lifetime.  I can’t imagine what it’d be like if we had to coexist throughout a few thousand years.  It’d probably be painful–

It surely wouldn’t be like what Erin and Talia have.

My muses are into their tea, and getting deeper into their concerns for each other.  It’s obvious that they care for each other–as much as immortal goddess-like being can–and it seems as if Talia is not only aware of all the issues Erin has had in the past with her charges, she’s concerned she’s getting set up for another big hurt.

Ah, Sisterly Love.  You gotta wonder if they ever argued over whom was wearing whose favorite toga.

Chapter Nine is coming to a close, and then it’s into the double-digit chapters as I inch that much closer to the end.  I’ve pushed the word count over thirty thousand, and I’m beginning to wonder if there’s another chapter in this story, because I’m thinking Keith needs a bit of a spin out at work.  I think it’s needed because I feel a break coming on, the need to Keith to push off the last part of his old life as he heads on into the new.  Not that I would have done anything like that had I left my last position because I was working on a novel:  oh, no, not at all . . .

I’m not going for an extra chapter because I need to up my work count; I’m a wordy enough bitch without that.  But it’s part of the plot, it’s part of what makes the character grow.  And it also sets up the last couple of chapters, which are already there, are already going to be written–

All a new chapter does is add context for what follows.  Makes sense, neh?

Hard to believe that after a month I’m already at the half-way point.  The writing hasn’t been a steady as I would have liked, but I’m near that end, and I should get this story in around sixty to sixty-five thousand words.  Though I know one of the chapters will run a bit long, so who can say if I might not run longer.  By the time I get to the last few chapters, I’ll know for certain.

Maybe having tea with sister muses is helping my outlook on the story.

I should do this more often . . .

Ninety Days Hath September

It’s time, more or less.  If my calculations are correct, ninety-six days have passed since I submitted my novel, Her Demonic Majesty, to The Great Harper Voyager Cattlecall.  Every day I have scanned my inbox looking for an email from Harper Voyager, sending me congratulations that out of all the submissions fired off in the first twelve days of October, mine was worthy of publication.

Alas, no such thing happen.  It is safe to say that my novel has not been among the lucky to make the cut—

That doesn’t make it, or me, a failure.

Allow me to explain.

Writing seems to be a lot of “doing”.  If you want to make a story, you have to do the writing.  If you want to finish the story, you have to keep doing the writing, day after day.  If you want to get it published, you have to do the editing, and do the submission package.  If you want to self publish, you gotta do the cover, and you gotta do the special editing that ebooks need, and you gotta do the upload and get it out on all the different ebook sellers.

It’s a lot of doing.

This is something that people who have already played this game, the writing game, know.  They’ve been here, they’d happily danced in the moonlight, and they’ve shuffled their feet through fallen leaves of disappointment.  They understand this game, they know the insides and outs . . .

If there is one thing they know, it’s that you are not a failure if you are trying to make your goals become real.  If you are hard honing your skills, developing your craft, then you are not the failure people will make you out as—and trust me, they will.

I’ve one rejection; I’ve may have another (what is this?  Read on . . .).  Both are for the same novel.  Does this make me a failure?

Are you kidding?

See, I’ve done my work.  I’ve went from A to Z, and filled in all the points between.  I’m put my package together, and I’ve sent it off with my fingers crossed.  I’ve done of the “dos”, and someone looked at it and gave it thumbs down—

But they looked at it.

The harsh truth is, there are a lot of people sitting on various Facebook groups going on about finding people to sprint with so they can get their five hundred or seven hundred, or even a thousand words in for the night, and then they’re off doing whatever the hell else it is they’re doing.  And a year later they’ll sitting around bitching about how no one realizes what a great writer they are, and if they could find someone to sprint with, they could finish this novel they’ve been working on for the last year . . .

That’s failure.  That’s someone waiting for opportunity to not only knock, but to escort them to the limo and drive them to the salon for a mani-pedi and hair styling before taking them shopping for the dress they’re going to wear to their book signing.

It’s all fantasy fulfillment, thinking that if the right person sees their novel, they’re going to be The Next Big Thing.

About a week ago I posted a quote by Dwayne Johnson.  Say what you will about him, but the guy pretty made himself after coming very close to hitting bottom.  There was another quote I saw attributed to him, one that I will say many people I know should take to heart.  It’s simple in its pronouncement:

 

Hey, stop saying, “I Wish”, and start saying, “I Will”.

 

Wishing works in many an interest story:  I know, I’ve written a few.  But in real life there are no jinn who are going to make your life easy.  There are no magic coins to give you what you want.  You wanna publish, you need to stop wishing and start willing.

There is a quick update here, however.  Apparently Harper Voyager had so many things sent in that they discovered it was going to be impossible for them to get notifications to everyone by 15 January.  In fact, they’re saying they’ll actually send out rejections, instead of not saying anything, which is what they’d said a while back.

This means there is still hope.  This means it’s still possible Her Demonic Majesty may be picked up.  It’s a real possibility.

The only thing I know for sure . . . I ain’t a failure.

I leave that for the wishers.

 

 

Kunti on the Loose

Today I’m doing a guest blog over on the Romance is in the Air, the blog of Linda Bowers Bolton.  Though not a lot of romance today:  I’m presenting an excerpt from my horror story, Kuntilanak.  So pop on over and check it out!