Book Status: You may be sorry you asked.
Okay, so a few of you have been asking me where I am on this road to publication. The key is, it's a long, long, long road full of potholes, dropoffs, and random brick walls.
I have made a lot of progress, but there's still a long way to go.
So, to simplify things, I have created a flowchart of the process. (Keep in mind, this is purely from my own perspective).
Oh, wait. That, of course, is the flowchart for the Hokey Pokey.
Let's try it again:
Whoops. Flow chart for the life of a dog.
One more time. My road. I am currently located at the large blue dot. Click on the image to enlarge it.
There has been much internet chatter of late about agents as "gatekeepers", and the frustration many writers feel when they can't get agents to take on their work. The complaints range from mild (do we need the middle-man?) to cantankerous (Agents are the Harbingers of Death).
I would like to weigh in on this. Yes, on some days, I want to bronze Ted, lovingly frame him and then hang him on my wall. On others (mostly revision letter days) he's probably grateful we don't live in the same city.
But he is not the harbinger of death. He is more like the harbinger of "Holy Cow, it's a freakin' better book!" He has spent countless (unpaid) hours poring over my manuscript, meticulously editing, suggesting, praising, and disciplining.
And if I had turned in my original manuscript to publishers, without Ted's influence, I think my road to publication would have hurled me straight into a landmine, and you'd find pieces of Brodi splattered from Heavens to Mergatroid. (As Yaya used to say).
Plus, he lets me sign my emails with "hugs and kisses." They don't come much cooler than that.
Okay, so a few of you have been asking me where I am on this road to publication. The key is, it's a long, long, long road full of potholes, dropoffs, and random brick walls.
I have made a lot of progress, but there's still a long way to go.
So, to simplify things, I have created a flowchart of the process. (Keep in mind, this is purely from my own perspective).
Oh, wait. That, of course, is the flowchart for the Hokey Pokey.
Let's try it again:
Whoops. Flow chart for the life of a dog.
One more time. My road. I am currently located at the large blue dot. Click on the image to enlarge it.
There has been much internet chatter of late about agents as "gatekeepers", and the frustration many writers feel when they can't get agents to take on their work. The complaints range from mild (do we need the middle-man?) to cantankerous (Agents are the Harbingers of Death).I would like to weigh in on this. Yes, on some days, I want to bronze Ted, lovingly frame him and then hang him on my wall. On others (mostly revision letter days) he's probably grateful we don't live in the same city.
But he is not the harbinger of death. He is more like the harbinger of "Holy Cow, it's a freakin' better book!" He has spent countless (unpaid) hours poring over my manuscript, meticulously editing, suggesting, praising, and disciplining.
And if I had turned in my original manuscript to publishers, without Ted's influence, I think my road to publication would have hurled me straight into a landmine, and you'd find pieces of Brodi splattered from Heavens to Mergatroid. (As Yaya used to say).
Plus, he lets me sign my emails with "hugs and kisses." They don't come much cooler than that.
