I really like both my editors (John, Kensington) (Nick, Alyson), but today I REALLY like Nick, who did his Norma Rae for Tim and me. Now if we can just get the cover we want for THREE FORTUNES IN ONE COOKIE, work will be good.
Last night I dreamed that Tim is going to be Michael Stipe’s groupie. Maybe this R.E.M. obsession is getting too intense.
I’m almost finished with my 2004 paperwork, which means I can file my taxes sooner. If only I could afford my accountant.
The manuscript for Three Fortunes in One Cookie is officially on its way to the editor. And thus ends more than a year’s work on two novels. I’m sooooo tired.
Tim and I have been pushing ourselves so hard for so long, dealing with a zillion stupid things we should never have had to deal with, getting mired down in other people’s needs and whims…
Tonight, as Tim does his edits to 3F, I am forcing myself to just get re-energized. R.E.M. is flowing from my headphones into my brain, but the BIGGEST charge comes from hearing from the first group of readers as they’re finishing I’M YOUR MAN.
There is nothing more humbling and gratifying than knowing that characters and situations from our imaginations touch other people. Make them laugh. Cry. Even if they get pissed off at us, it means they’re engaged.
It makes all memories of the crap go away and inspires me to do it again. =)
I was reading a movie review when the reviewer sounded what for me is a familiar and dissonant chord. Why is it that regarding movies or books, people are quick to point out “coincidences” as if they are not credible?
Sure, unless a movie or book is completely about coincidences, they should be used sparingly, but they happen in abundance in real life. In fact, we don’t even KNOW how often they happen, how connected we all are, and how seemingly random moments often have a cause and effect we’re not aware of.
The thrill of watching a movie or reading a book is that it gives us, for a moment, a god’s eye, when we get to witness it all and know how it fits together. Why is fiction supposed to be less amazing than real life?
Tim and I stayed up all night working on the new novel. Then we talked to our editor about various things and got a reprieve. Instead of having to be there the end of this week, it can be there next week. So we’ll ship the manuscript on Monday, I hope, one week from today. And then we might implode.
But at least I slept for five hours today. Tim is still up. But don’t worry. He’s not armed with anything except a razor sharp wit. And I suspect even that may be a bit dull right now.
…at the compound. We had snow last night for the first time in years. It melted quickly, but for those few hours, we had a white Christmas. Food was eaten, presents were opened, attention was demanded and given.
And today, things are back to normal. With one person hiding under the covers and the rest glued to TVs.
Me, I just want to finish writing a book before it finishes me, and to that end, I’ve been keeping company with noctural creatures. Last night I was sure there was a mouse in the house, but I think it was just my own delirium.
Off to eat prime rib and play cards with friends.
Merry Christmas to all, and if that’s not a holiday you celebrate, then just have a great day. =)
I hate it when I have to delete several pages I’ve written because they just didn’t go where I hoped they would.
Time and page constraints… two evil phantoms when I’m trying to let the characters take the story. But I don’t have months to go on journeys with them or the freedom to submit a manuscript of endless pages…
….I may eventually even get the hang of this.
If anyone reading this ever goes to bookstores, and you see an author sitting all alone at a table waiting to sign books, just buy one. So what if it’s “Favorite Midwestern Recipes Using Jello?” An autographed book always makes a nice gift for your Aunt Hazel or someone.
It’s very hard to be an author sitting all alone at a table. That’s why I have writing partners.
What’s THE DEAL? It’s a novel. By Timothy J. Lambert and Becky Cochrane. But that’s not what I meant.
What’s the deal? Why am I writing a live journal? Simple. Just one more way I want to be like that writing partner of mine.
Except that I’m supposed to be w-r-i-t-i-n-g. And not an online journal.