Okay, this is very weird.
There’s a bird–very pretty in itsÃ‚Â fluffy brown, mocha, and tanÃ‚Â feathers and piercing red beak.Ã‚Â But, for the past few days it’s been ramming itself into two windows on opposite sides of the house.
And it watches me watch it do that as though very normal behavior for both of us.
Today, in major frustration over my path to novel publication I thought I might have way too much in common with the mentally challenged bird.
It’s very clear the bird has business to attend to in the house.Ã‚Â But he can’t communicate it and even as I stand there looking around the room, trying to figure out what’s in the house that he wants to get at or why the hell he needs to take a path through the house instead of around it, he just keeps ramming away, getting nowhere.
This is where I am in my writing.Ã‚Â Novel writing, anyway.Ã‚Â Something isn’t getting across to agents and editors and I don’t know how to remedy it.Ã‚Â It’s not that I don’t want to, but with disparate criticism, what am I supposed to do?Ã‚Â Whose advice do I take?Ã‚Â Do I simply trust myself and keep querying?Ã‚Â But changing my manuscript–trusting one person over another hasn’t resulted in my books being sold to editors.Ã‚Â Is it a wrong agent match?Ã‚Â Maybe it’s as simple as I just don’t know what the hell I’m doing and never will.
I do write by instinct, mostly.Ã‚Â Not that I don’t tear the manuscripts apart, butchering them in whole and part, splicing them back together or reinventing out of whole cloth.Ã‚Â I might bitch about the revision process but I’ve never avoided it, thought myself above it, but what if it’s just fruitless?Ã‚Â What if I’ll never communicate to the fricking idiot looking at me from the other side of the glass–that thin sliver of barely there glass–what it is I’m doing?
I believe in this book wholeheartedly and will continue to shop it to other agencies.Ã‚Â But today’s put an emormous dent in my will to write another (I’m on number 7.Ã‚Â Don’t think I’m being a spoiled baby giving up after number 1).Ã‚Â And yes, I know all the stories of best sellers requiring 100’s of submissions and all the rest.Ã‚Â I hate to even entertain this type of pouty post because I think it’s bad Karma, sends the wrong signals into the universe.Ã‚Â Because tomorrow I’ll end up back at the computer writing as though I know what the hell I’m doing.
But, for today, for right now, I’m sick of writing for no pay off other than the “manuscripts in the attic for the grandkids” angle.Ã‚Â I’m just tired of it.Ã‚Â I’m sick of being the f’ing brainless bird.