Got my report on The Gifting from The Literary Consultancy today. Groan. They really hated it. I was utterly depressed after reading through it – twice – and still am actually. I don’t think this is because there are particularly huge amounts of changes to do, from what I can tell – certainly I had more changes to do for A Dangerous Man, and the tone of the report there was very much more positive – but it’s just the overall feeling of this report that’s getting me down. Plus there was a lot of general stuff in it about things I already know. So I’ve struggled to glean from it the changes I consider they’re suggesting and which I can make. Unlike all the other reports I’ve received from TLC, it really doesn’t inspire me to crack on with it either. I suspect therefore that if – and today it’s a VERY big if – I use them again, I shall make sure to ask not to have that particular editor.
Lord alone knows what someone would have done if they’d been a first-time novelist and this was their first editorial report. God preserve them! Some of it was very condescending indeed. I’m more than peed off, and at least I’ve been round the writing block a few times. Still, it’s left me feeling totally gutted, and that I won’t be doing any new novel stuff for a while after I’ve got this rewrite out of the way. Shit like this just makes novel-writing feel like a chore, rather than enjoyable. And, as you generally get enough crap elsewhere in the writing world, novel-writing ought to, at the very least, be enjoyable.
Other stuff of today – work was so-so, but my lunchtime reflexology session was good. I think I fell asleep a couple of times during the session, so obviously needed that. Tonight, I’ve got to do the shopping on the way home (double groan), and there’s sod all on TV. Damn those autumn schedules indeed.
Oh and some nice stuff – at last! – I’ve joined the Erotic Authors Association, and thanks to Erastes for allowing me onto the membership list, even though only a small proportion of my novels are erotic. Maybe that’s a cue to do more – and not use bloody TLC again. TLC my arse, eh.
And I've just finished the latest edition of Brittle Star poetry magazine - very enjoyable as usual. Inspired by something (but Lord alone knows what), I've written this:
All the women
are wearing brown today.
Perhaps I didn't get
telling me what to wear.
Still, brown doesn't suit me.
neither does work.
Not much else has happened really, and I’m still feeling churned up and not really able to concentrate on much else. There are definitely two De-Stress pills with my name on tonight. And at least one good strong whisky. Maybe more.
Today’s nice things:
2. Joining the Erotic Authors Association
Pink Champagne and Apple Juice