sjrozan

Because you guys are here when I rant and whine, I wanted to tell you I had a damn good day today. Started out with a phone call from my agent, who's had my new book for a week, not that I was checking my email and phone messages every five minutes or anything. But every time you finish something, there's that possibility, until someone else reads it, that it's absolute unmitigated totally incomprehensible crap. I don't know about you, but with me the feeling it's exactly that grows stronger all the time, starting from the moment of done-ness, when I stare at the last line in disbelief, and then, when I start to believe it, with a sense of "Well, all RIGHT." Then I polish -- I've been rewriting all along, and done-ness includes final rewrites and polish -- and send it to my agent, or if it's a short story, to the editor who offered to pay for it. Then, in direct proportion to my distance from that moment, the feeling keeps getting stronger that I've terminally embarrassed myself by letting this garbage be seen by other eyes.

On this one -- THE SHANGHAI MOON, by the way, out sometime in 2009 -- I've had the benefit of my writing group, where they've read the first half (I write much faster than we meet) and they claim they like it; and of a read by Joe Wallace, a terrific writer and a guy who would have told me if he thought it was junk. Still, of course...

Anyhow, my agent says he loved it. LOVED it. LOVED IT! Or so he says. Not even any big notes. So it's ready to submit to my publisher. Wotta relief.

Then I had breakfast with another writer, a good friend from out of town I don't see very often. That was nice. Then I went to the doctor, had my blood pressure checked. I was by way of coming in from the cold -- I was ready for the drugs, etc. You've heard my whine on THAT subject, but I was prepared to face reality. Well, my blood pressure is 120/80. So if anyone asks you if giving up salted nuts and smoked fish -- okay, and canned soup -- works, you can tell them yes.

And then I got home and found my short story "Hothouse" has been chosen for this year's BEST AMERICAN MYSTERY STORIES, to be published this fall.

So it's been a good day.

sjrozan I'm a writer, at work on my 11th book. This blog is a record of random and less-random thoughts. If you want to know more about me, check my website, linked here. I also had a blog going from spring through late fall 2004 about the publishing process for my 9th book, ABSENT FRIENDS. That blog's called "Progress" and you can find the link here. I won't make any more entries but I'm leaving it up in case anyone's interested; the process is more or less the same from book to book.
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Previous Entry :: Next Entry Read/Post Comments (13)		2008-01-30 6:51 PM Some days you eat the bear Because you guys are here when I rant and whine, I wanted to tell you I had a damn good day today. Started out with a phone call from my agent, who's had my new book for a week, not that I was checking my email and phone messages every five minutes or anything. But every time you finish something, there's that possibility, until someone else reads it, that it's absolute unmitigated totally incomprehensible crap. I don't know about you, but with me the feeling it's exactly that grows stronger all the time, starting from the moment of done-ness, when I stare at the last line in disbelief, and then, when I start to believe it, with a sense of "Well, all RIGHT." Then I polish -- I've been rewriting all along, and done-ness includes final rewrites and polish -- and send it to my agent, or if it's a short story, to the editor who offered to pay for it. Then, in direct proportion to my distance from that moment, the feeling keeps getting stronger that I've terminally embarrassed myself by letting this garbage be seen by other eyes. On this one -- THE SHANGHAI MOON, by the way, out sometime in 2009 -- I've had the benefit of my writing group, where they've read the first half (I write much faster than we meet) and they claim they like it; and of a read by Joe Wallace, a terrific writer and a guy who would have told me if he thought it was junk. Still, of course... Anyhow, my agent says he loved it. LOVED it. LOVED IT! Or so he says. Not even any big notes. So it's ready to submit to my publisher. Wotta relief. Then I had breakfast with another writer, a good friend from out of town I don't see very often. That was nice. Then I went to the doctor, had my blood pressure checked. I was by way of coming in from the cold -- I was ready for the drugs, etc. You've heard my whine on THAT subject, but I was prepared to face reality. Well, my blood pressure is 120/80. So if anyone asks you if giving up salted nuts and smoked fish -- okay, and canned soup -- works, you can tell them yes. And then I got home and found my short story "Hothouse" has been chosen for this year's BEST AMERICAN MYSTERY STORIES, to be published this fall. So it's been a good day. Read/Post Comments (13) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top