I managed to get in some writing time today. I wrote a query letter . . . nay, I lie, for I wrote three versions. You know, one version simply isn't good enough these days. Truly great autors second guess themselves and it isn't above them to write several versions. They care not about the wasted time and effort put into the never-to-be-sent-out versions. Nay, truly great authors rejoice in the writing of said queries, knowing if the version they submit gets rejected, they have backups.
Today is NOT a good day. It's a day when I say to myself, "Self, why are you doing this? Self, you are delusional to believe your work is good enough for publication!"
Are queries really necessary? Maybe I should just play the lottery . . . my odds of winning are better, right?
When I'm finished wallowing in self-pity, I'll remember I love writing (though not writing queries) and go back to my thousand versions (okay it was only three) and pick one or combine them all into a brilliant fourth version to stun editors and make them all beg for my novel (hey, it's my fantasy).
There are times when I read something and wonder why it made it into print (not mentioning any books specifically) and feel I may have a chance. And other times I read something amazing (again, not mentioning any specifics) and think I'm the worst writer ever.
I'm in a love/hate relationship with my fantasy novel at the moment. Couldn't tell, could ya? Today I thought about deleting the entire thing from my hard drive and starting from scratch. But said, "Self, there are some good things in there. Don't you dare hit that button!"
I really want to overhaul the-beast-that-is-my-novel, but haven't the stomach for it . . . at least not today.
And with the query giving me so much trouble, I wonder what the synopsis will do to me?! *EEEKKK*
And it doesn't help that I've decided my working title is lame and I need to get a shiny new one. Great, right? But I've called it by it's current title for so long that my mind is completely frozen to other possibilities. *WAAAAAAH*
And thus goes the 15th day of August, 2008. A day in the life of a stressed out writer. I'm off to get my kids from school now. Maybe I'll pick up 1 or 10 bags of chocolate on the way home. *grin*