March 3, 2020
You might have noticed I haven’t written many blog posts. (At least on this blog anyway.) Really, I don’t believe many people will find my writing journey to be any different from any other writer’s journey. It’s hard work. End of story.
That said, I finally finished writing the novel I think has a solid chance of doing something…of going somewhere. The four others I’ve written are on the shelf I put them on once I was done writing them. These shots are a bit more shoddy, a bit more wobbly, as I developed my writing legs on them. Unless I decide to revisit them, take them out for a spit and polish, they’ll stay there.
Today, this new child of mine will go to a developmental editor and then…well, I’m just not sure. Writing is in my blood but the business of writing turns my gut sour. My first thought today was…what the hell do I do next? Do I seek an agent? Do I beg some publisher, obscure or otherwise, to do me a solid and hoist my baby on their shoulders? What if they drop my baby? Hell…what if I drop my baby? Do I or do they…this is the question facing me today and I’m truthfully at a loss for how to proceed.
Step back, I told myself, and look at your goal. Well, it’s to get my work into the hands of readers. I have to take my journey to its most elemental level. This is my goal. Scoring an agent or deal with a traditional house is one way to get there but it’s not the only way. I have to make a decision, live with it, and move on. I have more stories to write.
For now, more research and gallons of wine. Stay tuned.