Oh, nobody tells you condensing 69,000 words of novel into a one-page letter is as easy as walking on a greased tightrope over a pit of piranhas. I’ve developed a USP, leveraged my marketing synergy and gone (more) mad, but it’s 95% there, and just in time for open submissions at a big publisher. Hurrah.
Miss Write is the best blog to keep me sane, though. If you’re interested in my answers…
1) The second book work-in-progress is 38,783 with no discernible ending. But it has a title. Priorities, yeah?
2) At the moment, a mashup of Tomorrow People and Mysterious Cities of Gold, because first draft.
3) I failed at making toast this morning 😦 (The 4am bedtime may be to blame there.)
4) Sleep is for the weak. E-numbers are tasty.
5) Spend 90 minutes watching sportball with me -> shove food into face -> accept 4am creative writing dribblings.
6) This one’s easy to sum up…
7) ‘Pete, can you trek up to this castle in the middle of winter so I can research brickwork?’ We’re also currently in a contest to see if his IBM Model M or my old HP PS/2 keyboard is noisier. (New technology? In this house?)
Oh, and creating characters really is literary multiple personality disorder writ large. There’s probably a whole post brewing just on this, but it’s like herding children around all day. If children steal beer from your fridge, play punk music at high volume and get in a huff with your husband when he comes in and imitates them in a silly voice.
8) I am fortunate enough to be grounded a bit in the real world on account of having a freelance day job and the taxing demands of brazen huswifery. I am also fortunate that my long-suffering husband probably ate into the mortgage fund to feed my mulled wine addiction.
9) Actually, Pete has started blogging more and writing about arty things I keep taking him to (like this weird and wonderful place ). And he has one of those ‘regular’ jobs that involves sitting down at a desk at 9am and leaving it at 5pm. I don’t understand this odd concept, I have to say.
10) I tried with the outfit. He refused.