I took a walk with Bernard, the soon-to-be copyediting squirrel, who was kind enough to let himself be photographed:
Bernard has a wisdom beyond (and between) his ears, though his reserved nature makes him hard to hear at times. As we strolled the trail, I asked Bernard how I could improve ‘Til Undeath Do Us Part. I believe the story is strong; I believe my grammar has punch; I doubt my vocabulary is potent.
Compassionate and kind as ever, Bernard patted my emerald green hiking boot just above my ankle and squeaked his sagacious advice toward my knee.
The last quarter of 2014–especially between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Eve–was busy. ‘Til Undeath Do Us Part is in digital format and awaits its sweeping edit. I had hoped to have it ready for distribution to beta readers by now, but it is only back in digital format. However, it is only a matter of time before I release my squirrel minions to promote my book.
Yes, that is what I did with the money I could have used to pay an editor: I armed squirrels. Well, except Bernard. He’s sensitive, so he’s taking copyediting classes at night school.
About half of Chapter One of ‘Til Undeath Do Us Part has been transcribed into digital format. I have a great page holder to type from, and it’s going pretty quickly. Well, it goes quickly when I’m actually doing it.
I admit I’ve been socializing on Twitter quite a lot in the past couple of months, and I’m currently inching up to 1500 followers. Sales on the Dome Trilogy are slow yet steady, and I am grateful that people are taking a look.
Currently, I’m researching how to approach literary agents with a strong fiction novel query. I’ve a half-dozen books on the subject and the internet to scour before I publish that article here.
I initially planned to serialize my 2014 National Novel Writing Month project here, but I was advised not to publish a work for public consumption without a good edit and polish. At some point, I plan to serialize a novel through this online journal. Now, however, is not the time.
So, I hope that people decide to jump back a couple of entries and read this:
When I finished National Novel Writing Month this year, I completed a novel. Its manuscript weighs in just under 85,000 words. It is ready for a clean-up and a potential run for the slush pile. I’ve done this for twelve years.
After I finished this particular novel, I was awestruck by what had happened to me. Only blank pages existed a month ago; now, an entire new book exists. I re-read page after page after I reached the end, stunned that a story formed from nothing.