I’ve been hammering away at the first ten pages of an old project, trying to get it ready to send it out to be critiqued. I am shocked at how much difference the widows and orphans control makes in the over all length of the thing. Okay, so there’s that. I wound up with about half a page to obsess over. Half a page long one way… half a page short, the other. I’ve printed out a new copy for tomorrow, and I’ll go over it again.
Oh, yes… and they want a copy of my query letter, which gives me at least another roll of Tums worth of anxiety.
I think this is more nerve wracking than it should be. Not like I haven’t shared this stuff, before. I think that my problem is that I stopped. That long, isolation-related hiatus we’ve all been on is getting to me, and I feel as if I’m a complete newbie. Human language? What’s that?
I do like the changes I’ve been making, and I think the pacing is much better than it was the last time I sent it out. Maybe the stakes are more clearly defined from earlier in the book. Hmmm. I’m just going to sit here and think positive thoughts for a while. It’ll be fine.
At the very least, I’m hoping a gigantic, positive step in the right direction will get me going, again.
I like to remind myself that none of these people can ignore me any harder than they already are.