Daily Stats:
Words: yes
Caffeine: morning cup
Evil Calories: those waxy frosted animal cookies with the little sprinkles
Reality TV: Top Chef reruns
Well, it's happened. My computer has caught the plague, and is dying a slow, painful and alarmingly loud death. I'll just be tapping away on it and all of a sudden the hard drive sounds like the engine of my old Plymouth Arrow (which, by the way, was my very first car when I was a teenager. It was a hunk, wouldn't go over 35 mph and I had to drive fifteen minutes out of the way to and from school because it couldn't make it over the big hill on Las Positas, and then some asshat broke into it just to get his hands on a Night Ranger tape). Anyway, my only hope now is that Apple lists some non-cringeworthy priced refurbished MacBooks, or else I'm stuck trying to write on the demonic shitbox of a desktop upstairs. It eats files for breakfast and has a passion for kernel panics. That is not good for my calm.
On another note, just peek, PEEK, at my word count meter for After Charlie (don't stare, you'll make it uncomfortable). I'll say no more lest I throw a monkey wrench in my groove. Groove being the key word, in that, yes, oh, yes, it came back and now we're groovin'.
And lastly, I realized something yesterday. As I was writing my first book, I was sure, and could feel, in every nook and cranny of my bones, that it would be published. Which is probably why my life sucked rocks for a little while when I couldn't find an agent and had to bury it my "poo smells" folder. This book, I feel the opposite. Though of course I have the occasional delusion of grandeur, I'm fully aware of the fact that it probably won't be published, nor will it land me an agent. I can't figure out if this is good or bad. I'm still writing it with the same passion and fervor and when it comes time to query I'll give it my all. But, I don't know, that whole process just seems like an afterthought to me right now. Call me crazy.
8 comments:
The whole getting published or even finding an agent is as mysterious as how the internet or fax machines work or how W got into office - twice. I'm with you - just write and love every minute of it. BTW: I'm following you, but I'm not showing up in your "Follower" - what gives?
Do you know...I follow your blog and, seriously, I could read you til the cows come home. Not that I have cows that come to my home. But you know what I mean.
If your book isnt picked up, the literary world has gone crazy and there is no hope for us mere dabblers.
And seriously, I want to read your book. So you damn well get one copy printed on Amazon if nothing else, and I will buy it.
I'll even slip you a few dollars for postage and packaging :)
Just enjoy the writing, Vivi. It is it's own gratification.
As long as you do that, publication will be inevitable. Hopefully it won't take you ten books -- like it did me.
After Charlie looks HAWT with those amount of words.
Hawt.
I just peeked. I hope I didn't make Charlie blush!
I didn't realize that there was more to writing than just, er, writing. It's crazy.
I peeked. (Love the cover and woo-hoo for the word count!)
I love the writing groove. I'm hoping to find mine again.
Oh no! You caught the computer plague too?
Quick! Quick! Everyone disinfect their monitors!
(And yay for the burgeoning word count meter!!!)
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