Words: 4
Caffeine: morning cup of boring, lame-o decaf that tastes like toes mixed with stale cigarettes
Evil Calories: chocolate, chocolate, chocolate, chocolate, cinnamon roll, frosting, frosting, chocolate, chocolate, chocolate, bacon
Ladies and gentlemen, members of my devoted fan base (you there, mom?), esteemed sock monkeys on my "I'm too pregnant to fit into anything but my pajama pants" pants...the time has come. Yes. That's right. The book is done. I've gotten fabulous feedback from my beta reader. I've made changes, polished it up and threw some holy water on it. So there really is nothing more to do than query the ever living crap out of it.
I know what you're thinking. "That sounds like fun!" Well, then, there's something wrong with you. Because in order to query, you have to have this pesky little thing called a query letter, which makes most writers want to stick fondue forks in their eyes and cram their heads down the garbage disposal. My main problem with the query letter is that I have two paragraphs to relay a 95K word novel. I'm not an "in a nutshell" kind of girl. I've been writing this blog for almost three years. I have 217 posts. Can you remember one thing I've really said? Cuz I can't!
But, alas, the query is the only way to tap on the door, so I'm left to try and cram all the key points of my novel into those two dreaded paragraphs without sounding like a ferret on crack. And obviously, from my 217 posts about NOTHING, I definitely have a "ferret on crack" tendency. Have I mentioned that I'm currently with child and I cannot drink? I can't even enjoy a simple glass of Merlot to lessen the "ferret on crack" ratio. Luckily being pregnant makes me really tired, so that might help a little. Maybe it'll be more like "ferret after a knife fight with a Yettie". Much better. Yeehaw.
So, wish me luck. Or just send me chocolate. And olives. The green ones stuffed with pimentos. And some cheese puffs. And some fried shrimp. Thanks.
4 comments:
Best of luck, Vivi! You will do awesome.
Your writing is so good that now I am wishing I had shrimp to fry and cheese to puff.
To eat. And to send off to you.
Really happy for you, buddy. On both fronts. I'll tip a Guinness for you tonight.
So are you showing?
Thanks, you guys!! And, yes, V, I am showing. I'm finally out of that awkward, "looking like I had a few too many Twinkies" phase and now I actually look pregnant. (And, yes, I wear the sock monkey pajama pants outside. I just claim hormonal mania if anyone looks at me funny.)
Chocolate? Yes. Olives? Not so much. At least not with chocolate.
CONGRATULATIONS! =)
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