I finally have caught up with all the Olympic tapings I'd done. Time for a breather and a moment here. I truly do not mean to leave my dear followers in the lurch, but the Olympics occur only once every four years. I love every event. I found some sports I'd never heard of. Rules have changed on other sports. Life is so incredibly interesting in the world of sport and human behavior and tenacity and *happy sigh*
I do want to share this with you. It's not sports related. I wrote a story and received this comment from a reader. "What a story. This is brilliant, and unfortunately puts most of my efforts far to shame on characterization."
I remember having the same feelings when I first started writing. It seemed, at the time, that everything I wrote could not hold a candle to the books and stories I was reading.
Thankfully, a friend told me that I had to be myself. I bless the day.
Life would be horribly boring if we all felt, said, thought the same thing. The same is true with writing. Horrible boringness would exude from pages. Not a pretty sight.
I write in the style my Muse tells me to. She knows what she's doing. I can accept that style and even blush in a bit of humble pride as a chapter is completed and rings true and good and fun and suspenseful and wondrous.
My editor called the other night and we discussed the new portion to chapter 32. She liked it buts wants to see the whole thing. I'm sending it tonight.
I've got to really word on my MS in the next two days. It must be at the critiquer's by the tenth if I'm going to receive a critique at the SCBWI conference. Thankfully, it's only twelve pages and I've written those again and again and again. I think they are finished. *yeah* *sure*
Life is wondrous.
PS - I will try not to leave you again for such an extended period.