Yesterday morning I decided to step away from the desk and join the Geneva Writers Group to listen to three literary agents – Ayesha Pande, Oliver Munson and Nicola Barr – talk about the current state of the publishing industry. I was really curious to see what the prospects are for non-published writers. There were a couple of articles recently trying to convince people that writing cannot be considered a “real” occupation as the chances to strike gold are bleak, to put it mildly. Although the three agents weren’t as straightforward – or cruel – to put it that way, they didn’t sugar-coat the fact that, especially since the economic crisis (2009, that magical year), publishers are taking fewer risks.
I know most people make promises they can’t keep for the upcoming year. Continue reading
I imagine myself walking into a crowded room, making my way down the isle, to a podium on a stage. Faces turn to look at me as I walk, feeling that overwhelming heat behind my ears that lets me know I’m nervous. Some faces are kind, others indifferent, but all of them turn to look at me. Continue reading
Ok, I think what I need at this point is a new goal. If anything, to make sure I don’t give into despair and delete this manuscript, which, I should say, seems to be screwing with my brain. Every time I work on it I feel as if the characters are all looking at me from the page, saying “Are you joking? Are you seriously suggesting I do this? What’s wrong with you?” Continue reading
If I had the feeling September went by slower than usual, the speed with which October is wooshing by makes up for it.
I managed to get a few words out this morning (now up to 6,565) while The Angry Chef went out for a run (he’s at 10 km, by the way). Continue reading