Lost at Sea

So I drew a diagram of just exactly what it feels like to try and get published.

I'm lost at sea at the moment. My very ability to tell a good tale has been, for the first time, really, cast into doubt... self-doubt. I mean, I never thought I was the next Tolkien or anything, but I did at least think I could spin a pretty good yarn.

Now... not so much.

I've begged a ginormous favour of someone I know who has been, and continues to be, published. She's reading my manuscript for me, and giving me an honest opinion of whether it's good... or not.

I'm chewing my nails for the fret.

What if it really isn't very good at all?

What if I can't actually write?

What the hell am I supposed to do then?

I'm feeling lost and adrift... just like I did when I found out I needed glasses and couldn't fly fighters; directionless, listless.

Until the most excellent, I-owe-her-tonnes-and-tonnes, author gets back to me, there is little I can do except continue to write.

And ask everyone's opinion on something. The agent who most recently rejected my manuscript (without actually reading it) had this to say:

It looks like you have a single story arc that you split... you had a six page synopsis and split each page into a book.

The thing is, it's not that far from the truth. I do have a single story arc. Julian's story. This series is all about how a innocent and gentle child became on of the greatest, and most feared, heroes in all of history. It's a long journey. A great deal happens to poor Julian before he gets to be that terrifying hero.

While I would love to hand in a single volume on Julian's life, a 600 000+ word manuscript seems a little... extreme.

So I broke down Julian's journey into individual steps, each major step on his journey getting it's own book. In The Third Prince, Julian is sent to Medrim to become a soldier as a punishment. He starts off a very poor soldier indeed, but grows to become the best damned warrior Medrim has ever seen. Clue: the use of the word 'damned' here was very deliberate.

The series looks like this, essentially:

... only better drawn. 'A' represents the very beginning, 'G' the very end, and each dot along the way the major steps Julian took getting from A to G. For example, b represent Julian as (basically) a super soldier. The black lines are, therefore, each a book.

Now here's my question for you:

Does that seem an unreasonable way to go about constructing a series? No flattery. Be honest. This is stuff I need to know, even if it hurts a little... or a lot.

The other issue was the ending of The Third Prince. To spoil the book completely, Julian fights a demon in single combat - and defeats it. It almost costs him his life, but he is saved from certain death by a... well, by someone. The book closes with Julian alive, but unconscious.

Is this a terrible ending for a book? The agent stressed that cliff-hangers were not allowed at the end of books, though the book might be part of a series. She's probably right, though I would argue. That might just be me getting defensive though. So, seriously, is that a terrible ending?

Again, no flattery allowed. Be honest.

Well, now I'm going to disappear into writing and try very hard to not read the answers until lunch hour. Until then, then.

Wet Finger

It probably means as easy as turning over the leaf [page] of a book... or tracing a lady's name on the table with spilt wine. With a wet finger, easily, readily.

- Walter Skeat's Glossary of Tudor and Stuart Words, 1914

When Things Went Awry

Well, last night was an exciting time. I read an email from a potential agent who had some concerns over the ending of The Third Prince and wanted me to re-write it.

Not a problem, thought I. So long as the story remains relatively intact, I can do that. After all, I kinda get what she means.

I neglected to read the second email she sent me which stated that she just wasn't thrilled enough to take on the book.

I read that this morning.

And now I want to cry.

You know that sinking feeling you sometimes get when your life appears to be a big, empty void - a colossal chasm filled with dreams never fulfilled? I have visions of me sitting at this very desk, twenty years from now, still single, plumper than I should be, embittered and defeated.

Right now, I want to quit. Who needs to be published, anyway?

Trying was a stupid idea.

Of course, I'm not especially bright, so I'm going to keep trying. Like a hamster that never learns to stop touching the electric frikkin' wire.

Maybe I'll self-publish it.

I don't want to, but who knows? Maybe it's the only way this story will see the light of day. And this story deserves to see the light of day.

Let me stress, I'm not in any way, shape or form, angry with the agent. Actually, she was excellent at keeping me abreast of where she was at with my submission and I appreciate her candid explanation of why she wouldn't take on the manuscript.

Besides which, I would much rather have an agent who was thoroughly excited about my stuff.

There just seems to be no such beast.

Well, I'm going to go hide in a hole for the rest of the day, probably cry some and think a great deal. Here's today's Forgotten English to keep you occupied while I do:

Bowdlerize

To emasculate through squeamishness. From the name (Bowdler) of one of Shakespeare's "purifiers." [Occasionally still used.]

- John Hotten's Slang Dictionary, 1887.

Happy Monday, Can There be Such a Thing?

Biwrixle:

To change, transform.

- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1888

Just to change things up a bit, I decided to put today's Forgotten English at the beginning of the post. If you're only reading for the Forgotten English, you can stop now.

Friday, as predicted, I didn't write. That's not a bad thing as I usually give myself Fridays off anyway. Instead, I chose to read through the Beta Reader comments for The Third Prince. They are actually quite encouraging. I will be finishing that before I write the next little bit of Overlord.

Overlord is actually getting pushed back twice, as I will also be writing a guest blog post for All Things Books (who gave me that lovely review of The Dying God & Other Stories). That, too, will take place before I get started on my daily three thousand. I don't feel bad about it at all. I am so far ahead of the game, that I only need to write two hundred words to get to today's target. Of course, now that I've said that, I'll start falling behind. Isn't that the way it usually works?

Oh, in case you were wondering, the sparring workshop on Saturday went very well. I was thoroughly owned, largely because I really don't like sparring and so don't really practice sparring. I was quite mad at myself for falling so far behind, and made a quick resolution to spar more. Now I've decided I probably won't. It's not like I intend to compete. Can you imagine! Me, in a kick boxing competition? Hah (read here: not bloody likely)!

Right, there's a lot to do today, so I must sign off. Have a terrific Monday (well, as terrific as Mondays can get, anyway).

Bubble's Burst

Well, after receiving a wonderful review for The Dying God & Other Stories, yesterday I received a rejection for the same work.

Sigh.

I am a little disappointed, though I do understand that short story anthologies are stupidly hard to sell, even if you're an established name. Chances were slimmer than most for trying to get an agent for this work.

There's nothing to do but move on. I have one and half more books to write, and I can't slow down or they'll never get written. Oh, and seeing as how I'm speaking of The Great Man series, I have some cheerful news.

My mother has very helpfully agreed to be a Beta Reader for this series (and that's a lot of work). She sent back the manuscript a couple of weeks ago (and I still haven't had the chance to look at it) with a lovely note:

She loved it. She's desperately in love with Julian and fears for his soul.

That's the reaction I was hoping for! That makes me happy. So very, very happy.

Also, speaking of The Great Man series, I had best get on with writing it. Before then, here's today's Forgotten English:

Pree:

To taste; as, "Pree my sneeshin," taste my snuff.

- John Jamieson's Etymological Dictionary of the Scottish Language, 1879.

To taste. The Scotch think this phrase, "I preed her mouth," a poetical way of saying, "I kissed her." Its literal translation into common English, "I tasted her mouth," doesn't sound like poetry, while its Cumbrian form, ""I teasit her feace," sounds like anything rather than poetry. The different versions of the phrase illustrate the difference of character on the two sides of the border.

- Alexander Gibson's Folk-Speech of Cumberland, 1880.