She Also Remembers Things I Wrote When I Was Seven (We Do Not Speak of It)

Posted on 23/08/2011 by


So I’m feeling kind of okay about the structure at the moment, as opposed to ‘oh god, oh god, what did I do?’ so that’s good.
I laid it out, wrote in the bits in the gaps, and finally have something that I feel like I can show someone without killing myself. And it’s about time because this ‘little beginning section’ turns out to be 19 chapters and 45 000 words. Which is… well the phrase I used was holy mackerel. Although you probably shouldn’t because that’s weird.

So I’m nervously sending it to my primary beta reader a.k.a. my mother before whom I cannot be embarrassed because she remembers every one of my goofy childhood haircuts and that there was a time when I still wore pink and put my hands over my eyes when there was kissing in movies.

My mother and me at six months, in front of Lake Kyle

Oh look, wasn't I a dork, even as an INFANT.

So if I’m making a idiot of myself in front of her with this… well, it won’t be the first time. Which is good. Because I still have this horrible feeling that it makes no sense at all and I’ll have to start over with it. Which… okay, yes, I would do that. I once rewrote a book from first person into third* in four weeks because… well… That wasn’t entirely my fault! But I had to and I did it. So it will not be the end of the world if this doesn’t work. Will not. If I repeat that often enough I don’t start gnawing on my fingernails.

Ooh, I know, I’ll go and do another round of query letters cause it’s about time, and that won’t make me crazy at all.


* Which, by the way, is not simply a matter of changing the pronouns.