Bryce's Ramblings

No doubt thanks to all of your kind supportive thoughts, I'm feeling much better today. Yesterday I ended up watching a lot of television (including finishing off Salem's Lot, a made for TV TNT movie that made me forgive Ted Turner somewhat for his crimes against HD. Somewhat. It's not really all that scary, but just about as scary and gory as I like a movie to be. I'm not all that masochistic when it comes to scaring myself.

I also got the first of my rejection letters from the queries on Ichabod that I've been sending out. Getting a query rejected is much easier than having a manuscript rejected. Especially when said query is for a mutant multi-genre book by a first time author. In other news, I've officially embarked on the rewrite of Barboy. Count me excited.

Those of you holding your breath to find out the first response to Ichabod may now resume your normal breathing activities. It's a no. A very polite and well-phrased no, but a no nonetheless. I'm not really sure if I trust myself to blog too much right now. Rejection can be a dicey thing to handle, and while I'm getting better at it, it's still difficult for me to separate myself from my writing enough to look at things objectively. In any case, I can't say it's not disappointing, but I know it's important to pick the novel up and send it out again. I have a couple of avenues available for this one in particular, and I'll take some time today to explore a few more before I decide where Ichabod shall bravely traipse off to next.

I'm also reevaluating what I'm working on right now and whether I want to continue that project or go in a different direction. I'm not sure if adult conflicts appeal to me as much as young adult stories do, if that makes sense. It's taken me a bit of writing in this setting to begin to see that.

Rest assured that today will probably end up getting more than its fair share of self reflection.

Do you ever have something that pops into your head and sticks around for a while, even though you know it's silly? I'm not talking about the lyrics to Real 2 Reel's I Like to Move It. (Although that certainly qualifies as silly. I like to move it move it. I like to move it move it. Ahhh!!!!!)

No, I'm talking about wishful thinking. Dreams that you know have pretty much a 0% chance of ever coming true, and yet you toy with them in your head, just because it's fun. The one that's been kicking around my brain for the last while is that I'd like to have one of my books adapted into a successful Broadway musical, along the lines of Wicked. See what I mean? I'm not just dreaming small here. No--none of this "I'd like to have a book published" junk. Skip all those preliminary steps and jump right into the big time. I think Ichabod would make a really cool musical. Sort of Kiss Me Kate meets Wicked. Of course, my other Ichabod dream is that Tim Burton and Johnny Depp would read it after it's published and decide they like it so much that they want to do another stab at Sleepy Hollow, with Depp returning as Ichabod. That would be cool.

What's the worst, of course, is when these silly notions affect me enough that I start to actually dream about them coming true at night. It's a peculiar sort of let down, when you're lying there sleeping, convinced for a moment that Depp and Burton were making a great flick based on your writing, only to wake up when the alarm rings and ONE-TWO! You're hit with the double blow of knowing not only that you have to get ready to go to work, but also that Depp and Burton will almost certainly never do a sequel to Sleepy Hollow, let alone base it on your book.

Oh well.

For those of you who don't know, my new house comes complete with a woodstove. Now, it's not the kind that has the cool glass window to look at the fire--it's much more utilitarian than that. Big. Square. Metal. We've fired it up, and it does a darn good job at heating our house. Of course, the first few days it smoked a lot, since it had just been refinished before we bought the house. But that's all out of its system now, and it's working like a charm. We just had another 2 cord of wood delivered yesterday, so we're in business for the winter. (Just have to stack that two cord . . .)  I actually like the woodstove a lot, though I think I'd like of like a version with a window, just so I could see the fire and add some ambiance to the kitchen. Of course, maybe that would make it less safe . . . Any of you out there woodstove experts?

In other news, I'm sick. Just a cold (I think), but it has me feeling droopy and drowsy and other dr- words that I can't think of right now. Too bad, since it's Halloween and all. But I'll still suck it up and head out with Tomas this evening to go to a Halloween party and do some trick or treating. He's very excited--he's going to be a cat. I'm going to be a librarian. Or a father. Or Eeyore. Depending on how I feel.

Writing's going well. Ichabod isn't nearly as bad as I feared it might be. The first Act was a beast to revise, but I flew through Act 2, and I'm well into Act 3 now. I know the climax has issues, but I think I might get this book done sometime in November. Then I'll be needing some new readers to give me a final verdict before I put the finishing touches on and send it off to the agent. I'll likely see if there are any victims--I mean, volunteers--here at my library, but are any of you interested? Just give me a holler.

Got another 3,500 words written today.  I think I'll be done tomorrow or the day after--so that'll mean that I finished the whole thing in about two months--so much better than my last book.  The question now is what I'll be writing when I finish.  Just not writing isn't an option, but I allow myself to plan, instead.  Looks like I'll be getting some planning practice soon.  That's okay--I need it.

I feel like this book has gone very well.  There are some aspects of it that I'm not sure about, but that's what writing group is for--to help me figure out how to solve those trouble spots.  Anyway--that's it for today.