Winter Seed Catalog Moon
Got my manuscript back today from the copy editor, Robert Klein, at quickproofs. I haven’t looked at it, but I will, probably not seriously until I get back from Denver. Some nervousness about it, because after I accept or reject his various edits then I have to get serious about submitting it to agents. This is the point at which I’ve clenched over the years, a combination of perfectionism and self-doubt. I’m determined to push through that this time.
Imbolc New (Bloodroot) Moon
All morning reading Missing. I’ve taken the Finding Your Writer’s Voice advice and decided to read through the whole thing, not revising, just taking in the story, marking spots where the pace/action sags, taking notes on characters and places, but mostly getting the story firmly in mind before I begin revising.
As I read, I have the thoughts of my beta readers present to me and the ideas those thoughts have generated. When I get to the end of the reading, it should be clear what I need to do for this third, and I hope final, revision. Final before a line-editing one, I mean.
Reading my own work is peculiar. Sort of like a mechanic working on a car she built. At each point I think, gee, I could have designed that differently, better. The desire to tinker can get in the way of reviewing the overall design. Feels good to make progress.
Spring Beltane Moon
Still reading Missing, catching up to the end, so I can write it. That’s an amazing aspect of writing a novel. I can read what I’ve written so far and I can decide how it resolves. Of course, the entire corpus before the end represents limits on that ending, it’s not entirely open, yet there is a plasticity to it, a fungibility that is mine to shape.
Then into the Minneapolis Convention center for two hours of volunteer training for my four shift on Sunday. Some big museum association is in town and all us museum volunteer types were solicited to help out. I said yes. I’m still trying to recall just why.
After that training, I drove the short distance to the Minneapolis Institute of Arts since I had a 7 pm Sports Show public tour. As I approached the museum, the streets had cars parked everywhere. There was a stream of people going in and out of the museum. On a Thursday night? Not a third Thursday.
Then it hit me. I’d taken a substitute tour on the opening Thursday night of Art in Bloom. OMG! There were no takers for the Sports Show tour, not a big surprise. The people watching was great though. Lots of women in very, very short skirts. I mean practically non-buttock covering. Men rolling their eyes as their wives exclaimed. It was a sub-cultural moment.
Glad to be home.
Imbolc Garden Planning Moon
Hey, how about that Santorum? Way to mix it up. The longer the Republicans savage each other and the longer the nomination drags out without a clear victor the better. If the economy can right itself a bit more, unemployment come down and consumer spending go up (think those two are related?) the Democrats might look better in the fall.
I’m working right here at home, filling up my day and working out at twilight, then reading. A couple of tours tomorrow and I’m looking forward to them right now because I’ve been writing and doing Latin for 5 days in a row with a bit of a break on Monday. The productivity feels great, but a change of pace will be welcome.
Grandson Gabe has a bad cold or croup or something respiratory. Grandma Kate got a chance to pass on some knowledge to Jon and Jen last night. She’s a good one to have your corner if you have a kid.
Imbolc Garden Planning Moon
Still plugging away at 1,500 words a day. The novel is sort of baggy right now. Lots of words, probably, as the Emperor famously said to Mozart, too many words. I’m not quite at the Mozart level where I can comfortably say every word is necessary. I’m not even in the Salieri league. Hell, I’m at best playing Legion ball, hoping for a look from the scouts.
Which is not to say, however, that it will not improve. This novel will receive much more attention after I finish the rough draft. Much more. It will reach a point where it contains as many words as I mean it to have, no more, no less.
This time I’m eager to get to the rewriting. Writing is in the rewriting. Though this blog rarely gets rewritten.
So, the superbowl. Well, I don’t have a dog in this fight. Haven’t had a football dog since the late, great now permanently retired Brett Favre returned for one season too many. I like having Sunday afternoons free in the winter.
As to the weather. Hell.