I would put it aside, but I just want to get it done. I want to have it all plotted out and written and then never ever think of it ever again. I don’t even know what iteration I am on, since usually I force myself to finish iteration $$x$$ before going on to iteration $$x+1$$ but that’s all up in the air now and I’m putting in the verbatim package in LaTeX so I can comment out huge chunks that just don’t work.

Plus I just hit my hotkey to compile LaTeX to publish this wordpress post in HTML so I don’t know. Wolf Children is taking over my brain. Why did I ever watch Wolf Children (the movie) with Tesfa? It is being added to my list of things to fix when I build my time machine and go back in time. We’ll watch an illegal version of Big Hero 6 or The Book Of Life instead.

I just want it to be done. I made a sighing noise there but likely it didn’t come through via the computer.

This week I’m going to start an all-out assault on indie Canadian publishers. Please publish me! I’ll cry. Chirp chirp will go the crickets. And then, maybe I’ll give up.

Because of changes in the market we are only taking on projects we are really enthusiastic about reads a rejection, the lit-version of an agency saying It’s not me, it’s you.

I would be interested if you had a novel, in placing that says another No.

You have almost a novel says Geoff. Your story about faeries.

But I’m out of love with that story. Plus, it needs a Book Two.

I don’t know what to write. I don’t have enough for a novel. I only have bits. So how to stitch all my bits together and convince people that it’s a story?

I don’t know. I’m about three thousand words into my Wolf Children story before there are even wolves. I think my writing has ADD.

I epubified by short story collection I’m shopping out. Should you or you or you wish to be a early reader/helpful proof reader, all you have to do is let me know (send me an email or leave a comment) and the epub is all yours.

I think I have to start my wolf children story.

Again.

Stupid story.

We went away when there was still snow on the ground. We come back and the grass is edged with green. It feels like a new world, a new home. A vacation reboot of my physical location.

The slushing continues. Got a reply, very complimentary but not accepting short story collections as they are too hard to place. If you have a novel the email says. If I had a novel. Isn’t that the thought. If I had a novel maybe this would all be something different. I feel chuffed that this is not the first literary person who wants to read a novel from me, but I also feel realistic in the fact that a novel has so many words and so much concentration and I’m reading 2666 right now and cannot even imagine myself writing all those words (although I am bogged down pretty heavily in The Part With The Crimes section).

A novel.

All those words.

I see why people do MFAs. To have someone hold their hand as they write The Novel. I suppose I could do that. Then I remember I did a novel writing course with my Afghanistan/Pregnancy/Academia/Racial Politics barf of a novel and it went (let us be polite rather than accurate) poorly. It went quite poorly indeed. So maybe I don’t need tutelage. Maybe I just need to try.

So will I try?

So I’ll finish Wolf Children story. Have to proof read Faerie Story Book One (shout out to all my FtD friends helping me out with that). Have the rumblings of (another) story about bad mothering.

Or I could sit.

And look out the window.

I should really train myself to write fiction first on the computer rather than longhand. That would save me some time.

I got a nibble on my query letter — please send full manuscript. So there’s that 🙂

My sad and distant story is making me sad and distant.

I need to write something happy and hope it affects me the same way.