It was my birthday yesterday, Gentle Reader, so I took a break from not writing to not write some more. That being said, I returned to writing today and made changes to March requested by my fabulous agent. I feel this book is so close to done I can taste it. I am ready for it to be out of my hands for a while and at the whim of the publishing market.
I don’t know if I really mean that.
The publishing market is a fickle, scary beast, so I’ve heard, and my entire life, I’ve wanted to be an Author. Not just a Writer–which I am–but an Author–which I am not, yet. When other little kids are dreaming of being firefighters, or presidents, I was dreaming of being a Novelist, an Author, a Scripter of Books. It is the one sustained dream of my entire life, and I can’t let it go, no matter how much I try.
But so much of it is not in my control. I know that, I hear that, but I don’t fully comprehend it.
So, in the interest of the New Year, I am going to Stop Worrying and Learn to Love the Book. That is, worry LESS about the publishing market–that’s what I have an agent for, after all!–and worry MORE about the writing of the books I want to write.
Not a bad New Year’s resolution. What are your resolutions, Friends?
The Postmodern Bluestocking 