I was supposed to drop my manuscript to the interested publishing parties, but then things changed two weeks ago. (By the way, I feel like hell in a handbag. Really strange and unfocused. Everything feels different now, though it all appears to be the same. It's like crossing over some threshold you didn't know about, and now you're on the other side. How do people do it?) I'm glad I didn't deliver the manuscript because I see now that the last section needs some more layers. Somehow, working on adding texture is about the only thing that makes sense, which is a bummer for the people who employ me. Everyone is being super nice. Anyway, it does occur to me that I finished my novel and my dad died. Anyone who knows my story knows that that's just plain weird.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Closer to Done, But Where Am I Again?
I was supposed to drop my manuscript to the interested publishing parties, but then things changed two weeks ago. (By the way, I feel like hell in a handbag. Really strange and unfocused. Everything feels different now, though it all appears to be the same. It's like crossing over some threshold you didn't know about, and now you're on the other side. How do people do it?) I'm glad I didn't deliver the manuscript because I see now that the last section needs some more layers. Somehow, working on adding texture is about the only thing that makes sense, which is a bummer for the people who employ me. Everyone is being super nice. Anyway, it does occur to me that I finished my novel and my dad died. Anyone who knows my story knows that that's just plain weird.
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4 comments:
I think this is a time to rely on your writing as a way replenish your spirit. Just work on your novel as a labor of love. Forget about the crappy world of publishing.
I lost my dad when I was a teenager. It sucks. I'm blessed with a family of my own now, which has helped fill the void he left, but I still often wonder what life would be like if he were still around.
What Native Ink said. Time to look after yourself. Take advantage of the kindness of friends and strangers. We're here to take care of each other.
My father died five years ago, very suddenly. I know how off-kilter you feel; the whole world is pitched. It isn't the same, will never be the same -- but somehow, after some time goes by, it's OK. He's in my heart; in the stories I tell my daughter; in the way I rest my hands on my knees.
Big squeeze to you.
E.
I can't imagine what it feels like. Many sympathies for your loss. Give yourself lots of "kid glove" treatment because you're bound to be fragile. I recently lost an uncle - someone I didn't even know very well, but he was a great guy - and it's been much harder than expected. So losing a dad must just suck 1000X worse.
Please know that you run a fantastic, thought-provoking blog, and we other writerly types appreciate your honestly and rants and raves here.
Be good to yourself right now. You deserve it.
Dan
I was actually thinking of you when my dad was visiting this weekend and felt grateful that I'd had that time with him. Something I just took so for granted when I was younger. With each passing year, you just never know.
I know the novel is your comfort, but it's probably a good time to get outside your novel and truly take in why it everything feels so different. I don't know why I'm saying this--I don't even know you. But I know I like you.
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