Well, so much for 'I'll be posting this week since I won't be at work'... funny how that's turned out. I will get this one sad scrawny little dribble out, though. Even if it doesn't account for much.
Ah, this week. This first strange 'I no longer work where I ALWAYS worked week'.
Let's recap:
Monday, the power went out because (hold your breath!) it snowed a whopping 4 inches... this, after the last storm took out every tree in the tri-state area. But at least it was only off for a matter of hours, cutting out at around 9am and coming back around 4. But I was still a grumpy mess for the day.
Tuesday, I spent recovering from Monday. This involved having the plug of the electric fireplace explode and melt creating a physical mess, and psychological nightmare for me (if you know me, you'll know I'm terrified of fire) and that had to be addressed and the fireplace replaced which I managed with the help of my sister. Then in late afternoon, I realized Saida (big old bony thoroughbred mare) was acting colicky. You might remember that at the first of the month, I lost my beloved Di to torsion colic. Needless to say, I verged on meltdown, seeing Saida displaying similar symptoms. I'm STILL twitchy. However, once dosed with banamine and xylaxine, Saida reacted the way you WANT them too, settling down and then going back to her usual self as the drugs wore off. Run of the mill tummy ache. Still, it was a rough night for me, waiting for something horrible to suddenly happen.
Wednesday was spent staring anxiously out into the field at two horses and a donkey who were acting completely normally. I did manage to go out to breakfast with my Dad and write some, but fretted on and off over the blissfully oblivious Saida. It's SO HARD not to be pensive this close on the heels of losing Di.
Today, I wrote some more on my new WIP, Shed The Wind, which doesn't quite know if it wants to be contemp, or magical realism... and wistfully peeked in over at the big PitchMadness hoopla going on, wishing someone was requesting something from me. I'm SO HAPPY for all of those who are competing!!! May they ALL get requests! I was going to try and get into the PitMad event, but that might be sidetracked because my phone has suddenly decided that its foray into first the lake and then the (clean) toilet last week has, in fact, had some sort of affect on it. So unless there's a miracle, I'll be talking with AT&T tomorrow, and possibly sending the phone off to be salvaged or replaced. I have insurance on it, but I'm sure I'm going to lose money.
Oh well. Things could be worse. I can't say that I haven't been occupied this week! And I've gotten some writing done, which makes me very happy.
Now, a question: I have a number of queries out, but the 10th or so of April will mark the one month time frame for the most recent of the queries. As of right now, I've heard nothing from anyone, so I'm assuming they're rejections. Presuming that I hear nothing by the 10th (one of the agent replies to all, but almost always within a month, so if I don't hear from him, I'll figure he's super busy, and I've been set aside to be rejected later, which is okay) I was considering resubmitting to Entangled Publishing. This is GONE MISSING GIRL, my contemp YA, and it was already requested, then rejected with feedback from Entangled. It wasn't a revise and resub, but they said that if I addressed their issues, they'd be happy to see it again.
Subbing directly to publishers is not what I ever thought I'd do. I worry about my ability to agent myself, and manage myself. But I'm at a point where the dystopian, despite it's numerous requests had fallen into the 'we're over it' category, and the contemp which has gotten so much attention from pitches and garnered interest via queries has never gotten much interest beyond that. My Beauty and the Beast retelling isn't nearly as 'out there' different as something like Cinder, or Scarlett (EPIC LOVE FOR THEM) and thusly seems to have a slim chance of becoming some dramatic breakout agent-snagger.
So should I go out on this strangely shape and unfamiliar limb of subbing to publishing houses? Well, to Entangled, specifically. I'm not ready to sub widely to houses yet. But what say you? Opinions?
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Friday, March 22, 2013
I Don't Even Know How to Write This...
This post will be a mishmash of things. I already know that because I've started it while we're waiting on the vet and I'm sure that I'll have to save it and come back later. Not just because the vet will arrive and I'll need to be there, but because this is probably my last chance to go out and meet the vet to deal with one of Castalia's horses.
The last time.
I've had so many last times recently, it seems, and not nearly enough first times to make up for it.
At least, that's how it feels at the moment.
When I first got a job at the farm, I couldn't imagine working somewhere every day. Thirteen years later, I can't imagine not driving down the driveway every morning. It's not even like moving away because once the property is sold, it will belong to someone else, someone who doesn't want strange teary-eyed women driving up their driveway just to reminisce. Then I'll have nothing but photographs and my own memories, which will fade in time, to look back on.
But I was here. And it was wonderful. And it has changed me forever. And will keep changing me throughout my life, the way things do.
But that doesn't help much right now. When everything is so new. So hurtful. Even knowing it was going to come to this.
And at this precise moment (I know, because I just checked my email) I don't even have a request for a full - a request for ANYTHING to make me feel better about the void of empty space that is me-without-the-farm that I'm moving into. I mean, obviously I'm going to write until they pry the pen from my cold dead fingers. But it's nice to tell myself that some day, I'll write as my job, and not around the other job that I have. That even if I still do have another job, my writing will be the center of my world, instead of an orbiting planet. But I'm a realist, if an optimistic realist, and I'm going to have to look at the possibility that GMG is not going to be 'the one'... which means shelving it and going back to the drawing board. Which I can't handle at the moment. So for now I'm going to crank 'Holding Out For A Hero' on my iPhone and pretend like something awesome might still show up in my inbox.
But back to the farm, and all of that. Realistically, I could write for pages and pages about the farm. About all of the things that went on, the experiences and the growing I did while here. I could tell you hysterical stories (some of which could, maybe, show up in some format, some day, possibly, is all I'm saying) and tragic stories. Tales of cranky old lady ponies and spry babies who tried to stand before they even cleared their mommas womb.
But I won't do that. Instead, I'll bow out before I start to ramble. Which, technically I've already been rambling because it's taken me several days to write this post. This next week will be an interesting mix of straightening up around the house and acclimating to things, so I'll have time to post again, and I fully intend to start getting that done on a weekly basis rather than letting it lag, as I have been the last few months.
The last time.
I've had so many last times recently, it seems, and not nearly enough first times to make up for it.
At least, that's how it feels at the moment.
When I first got a job at the farm, I couldn't imagine working somewhere every day. Thirteen years later, I can't imagine not driving down the driveway every morning. It's not even like moving away because once the property is sold, it will belong to someone else, someone who doesn't want strange teary-eyed women driving up their driveway just to reminisce. Then I'll have nothing but photographs and my own memories, which will fade in time, to look back on.
But I was here. And it was wonderful. And it has changed me forever. And will keep changing me throughout my life, the way things do.
But that doesn't help much right now. When everything is so new. So hurtful. Even knowing it was going to come to this.
And at this precise moment (I know, because I just checked my email) I don't even have a request for a full - a request for ANYTHING to make me feel better about the void of empty space that is me-without-the-farm that I'm moving into. I mean, obviously I'm going to write until they pry the pen from my cold dead fingers. But it's nice to tell myself that some day, I'll write as my job, and not around the other job that I have. That even if I still do have another job, my writing will be the center of my world, instead of an orbiting planet. But I'm a realist, if an optimistic realist, and I'm going to have to look at the possibility that GMG is not going to be 'the one'... which means shelving it and going back to the drawing board. Which I can't handle at the moment. So for now I'm going to crank 'Holding Out For A Hero' on my iPhone and pretend like something awesome might still show up in my inbox.
But back to the farm, and all of that. Realistically, I could write for pages and pages about the farm. About all of the things that went on, the experiences and the growing I did while here. I could tell you hysterical stories (some of which could, maybe, show up in some format, some day, possibly, is all I'm saying) and tragic stories. Tales of cranky old lady ponies and spry babies who tried to stand before they even cleared their mommas womb.
But I won't do that. Instead, I'll bow out before I start to ramble. Which, technically I've already been rambling because it's taken me several days to write this post. This next week will be an interesting mix of straightening up around the house and acclimating to things, so I'll have time to post again, and I fully intend to start getting that done on a weekly basis rather than letting it lag, as I have been the last few months.
Friday, March 8, 2013
The Strangeness of Life...
I'm typing this on my iphone, wasting battery life. We've been three days without power. The lines are down in the field and the equines are not amused, as they've been locked up in a teensy dry lit the entire time. I've been hauling water to them by hand. Horses drink a lot. But at least they appreciate me. And really, I'd give anything to be heaving water for four hooved ones, not just three. Still having sobby moments over that matter. Probably will for a while yet.
The cats think this is the best sleepover ever. All but SealCat, who's shown us that she maintains an unholy hatred for the sound of the bedroom phone ringing. With no power, that's the only phone that works. It rings. SealCat growls. It rings. SealCat growls. This goes on until the phone is either answered or the call is swallowed by whatever strange ether exists to consume phone calls that ring through to answering machines that can't function. Perhaps that phone has taken possession of a little girl named Carol-Ann and SealCat is the only one who can hear her asking about the light.
Really, that's what all of us want to know. When will we have light? Power? Running water??? Yeah, no idea. The latest news suggests maybe Sunday, or Monday. *sigh* So much technology, and they're thrown totally off when they can't use it. Not that I really blame the linemen. I know precisely how hard it is to lug stuff by hand over this kind of terrain. I'm doing it daily for my horses.
But I CAN tell you this: Scarlet (The Lunar Chronicles) is an AMAZING read!!! I'm tucked into When We Wake, and might end up reading it cover to cover. And it's kinda fun to write by lamplight. As long as you don't have to do it for a week...
Also, apparently it is impossible to 'tag' this post using my phone. Poop on you, technology.
The cats think this is the best sleepover ever. All but SealCat, who's shown us that she maintains an unholy hatred for the sound of the bedroom phone ringing. With no power, that's the only phone that works. It rings. SealCat growls. It rings. SealCat growls. This goes on until the phone is either answered or the call is swallowed by whatever strange ether exists to consume phone calls that ring through to answering machines that can't function. Perhaps that phone has taken possession of a little girl named Carol-Ann and SealCat is the only one who can hear her asking about the light.
Really, that's what all of us want to know. When will we have light? Power? Running water??? Yeah, no idea. The latest news suggests maybe Sunday, or Monday. *sigh* So much technology, and they're thrown totally off when they can't use it. Not that I really blame the linemen. I know precisely how hard it is to lug stuff by hand over this kind of terrain. I'm doing it daily for my horses.
But I CAN tell you this: Scarlet (The Lunar Chronicles) is an AMAZING read!!! I'm tucked into When We Wake, and might end up reading it cover to cover. And it's kinda fun to write by lamplight. As long as you don't have to do it for a week...
Also, apparently it is impossible to 'tag' this post using my phone. Poop on you, technology.
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