So, I've been terrible about blog posts lately, but I have been busy (sort of, not really, well, let's agree to disagree on that). In the last few weeks, my husband returned from deployment, I redecorated my house, finished a WIP, and bought a new motorcycle. Not to mention my guy's new job means a lot of ongoing responsibilities for me (busy military wives, holla!). Lots of fun new things. Also, my husband decided we'd go all Virgina Woolf, create a publishing company, and try to self-publish one of my older novels that I'm in the middle of editing. He has a business degree and seems quite excited by the prospect of advertising the book and doing all the necessary stuff that his hermit, writer wife doesn't want to touch with a ten foot pole. I don't even like talking to strangers on the phone (or in person). I should probably see someone about it, but that would mean calling a stranger and then going to meet with said stranger. Yeah, not happening. But the husband's plan should be interesting. I'm still sending out queries for my other projects, but it'll be cool to see what might happen going the self-publishing route. Not sure what I did to end up with such a supportive guy. He might even believe in my writing more than I do.
Speaking of queries, I have a full manuscript out with an agent right now, so let's see where that goes. I always plan for the worst, so after I fix this current project so my husband can do his magic, I'll edit my NaNoWriMo novel and get it ready for submission sometime before or during the summer. After that, the novel I finished last month. After that, the novel I went through whilst here in FLA on spring break that needs a serious rewrite. I hate querying (maybe even more than I hate calling strangers and I REALLY hate that), but the shit has to be done.
And guess what? My house actually looks like adult people live in it. I successfully (and expensively) decorated it to surprise the hubs and he loved it (of course, he didn't see any of the bills, but...). Now I want to redo every single room and get rid of any piece of furniture not purchased in the last three months. I believe I'll have to slow my roll on that, but in the next few months/years, we'll have all new stuff. Now that I know a few things about decorating (emphasis on 'a few'), I hate all the old stuff. Daily, I'm like, 'who picked out this horrid crap?' and then I remember that I did. Damn it.
In the next week, I need to send out a few of my short stories to lit magazines. I've polished them several times (see how sparkly they are?), so now I just need to bite the bullet. They're so pretty though. It's like sending a child out alone into the wild--she might make it to her very important destination but, more than likely, she'll get beaten to a pulp. But you'll never know if you don't send her out there. I did write another story a week or so ago that took an interesting (and dark, of course, because it's me) turn. It's pretty bad when you feel sorry for a character you made up and dragged through hell. Still, I left the awful stuff in there. I'm glad I started writing shorts again. I forgot how much fun it was (I'm finished way before I start wondering why I started the piece in the first place). It feels kind of like cheating. Just a jump in, then a jump out. Easy peazy. And I can edit them a bajillion times without it taking hours. But now I need to stop editing and actually send them out. That's the hard part. They always seem like they need more work. Could post one on here for feedback. Hmm...