Writing excitements
Note from my agent on Friday saying the marked up manuscript of Plain Kate is on its way home to me. She says only a spit polish is required. Oooo! I hope so! She also sends an exciting and intimidating list of potential editors. People like Arthur Levine are on it. I picture my manuscript darting through traffic by bicycle messenger, on its way to the people who edit some of my YA heros. In less than a month, my plain-speaking plain-jane little hero will be cutting someone off in downtown Manhattan.
Meanwhile I'm fiddling with The Teleportation of Gilbert Perez, writing random scene, or even lines, scribbling down idea after idea, and (of course) research problem after research problem, getting to know the characters and beginning to glimpse the shape of the novel. Soon I will be able to turn this heap into a book proposal. Yikes! I've never even seen a book proposal. (Does anyone have one I can look at?)
James gave me a great idea for who causes the teleportation business in the first place -- though were they get the power I don't quite know. It has something to do with the wheel of the Aztec calendar and the ceremony held every 52 years, in which the sun dies and is reborn.
I'm beginning to get amazingly excited, and have already fallen in love with Gilbert.
I also seem, almost against my will, to be writing yet another book about those hobby horses of mine: memory, regret, and second chances.
Meanwhile meanwhile, we got pictures from Nora's baptism.
Lots more on flickr.
Meanwhile I'm fiddling with The Teleportation of Gilbert Perez, writing random scene, or even lines, scribbling down idea after idea, and (of course) research problem after research problem, getting to know the characters and beginning to glimpse the shape of the novel. Soon I will be able to turn this heap into a book proposal. Yikes! I've never even seen a book proposal. (Does anyone have one I can look at?)
James gave me a great idea for who causes the teleportation business in the first place -- though were they get the power I don't quite know. It has something to do with the wheel of the Aztec calendar and the ceremony held every 52 years, in which the sun dies and is reborn.
I'm beginning to get amazingly excited, and have already fallen in love with Gilbert.
I also seem, almost against my will, to be writing yet another book about those hobby horses of mine: memory, regret, and second chances.
Meanwhile meanwhile, we got pictures from Nora's baptism.
Lots more on flickr.