Have been expanding sideways and allways at alarming rate. This has no connection at all with new chip, I mean tempura, fryer. Into 2nd week of New Regime, not allowing myself to switch computer on until completion of Darcey's Pilates and skipping 50 skips.
The rejection came in from the agent in the middle of last week. It was a quick and friendly response. I wasn't too despondent because I knew I was sending it out too soon. It's finished, in as much as I've reached The End, but a further rewrite is necessary. The fact that this was one of the super-agents e-mailing me so fast means the subject-matter is on course and sellable, and I have some really good feedback I can address.
HOWever, the exercise takes priority now, and then if there's any work I have to do that first. I am so grateful that survivial (day to day anyhow) isn't dependent on whether the fiction sells or not. I don't know how many years the novels have taken priority, about six I guess. I have been determinedly one-track about it. The thing is to rise above it and keep on going and enjoy it for what it is, for the doing of it. Journalists get a lot more respect. And it can nearly all be done via e-mail. I can send queries and get answers and all is done and dusted. I've never even spoken to my editor, but I occasionally get e-mails like 'man - you're good' which really perk me up and get printed and stuck onto the fridge door for weeks on end.
Am also doing some more photography this week,for the Kew Ball which will be fun in my favourite, outsidery kind of way.
Bye bye, thanks for visiting, come again soon.