Page Proofs and Hair Dye
Today I’ve got the page proofs for Redemption Alley to go through–gods but that book is getting close to having its cotillion. (Or being presented at Court, or whatever way you want to view it.)
It probably says something for my mood that I’m comparing a book to a debutante. *snerk* RA was exceedingly hard to write, but I’ve written so much else in the interim I’ve kind of forgotten the bloody chunks of the book I had to pry out of my cerebellum. (I am unsure if this is where the books actually come from. My vote goes for the lizard-brain, actually, but cerebellum sounds so much nicer.)
You can’t wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club
–Jack London
That was the Quote of the Day. I laughed until I was sick because it’s so TRUE. You can’t sit around waiting, you have to do.
Finishing the last YA book (still pretty much untitled, that’s why I keep calling it “that second YA book”) was hard on me. The hardest thing was that it seemed to vanish without even a splash in the murky sea of my life. I wanted pats on the head from the people at home around me, and nothing…happened. Because I didn’t open my mouth and say something. So you see, it was my own damn fault–but I’m still feeling a little snivelly over it. I saw the Selkie afterward and she patted me on the head–which I needed–but the feeling’s grown into a “waaaaah nobody loves me I’m not special waaaah…”
Sometimes I don’t want petses after a book; sometimes I do. The trouble is, if I don’t open up my mouth and demand them, I don’t get them. It would be nice if people could read my mind and serve up the peeled grapes and fanning (not to mention bonbons and the waiting hand and foot) when I wanted it. But in a house full of oblivious children, that’s not gonna happen. And I should set a good example by asking for what I want openly.
You’d think I’d learn that this type of reaction (“waaah, pet me!”) is normal after the huge emotional investment in a book. There’s a lot of delayed (or, let’s face it, never-arriving-at-all) gratification in this field. You wait to get read, you wait to get accepted, you wait to see it in print, you wait to get paid, you wait to see reviews…and some reviews aren’t the kind of gratification you’re waiting for AT ALL. On the one hand, it’s good training for life.
On the other hand, it’s bloody annoying.
Also, today I’m getting my hair dyed in preparation for the train wreck that is going to be my new author photo. I hate getting my picture taken; it’s a flaming passionate hatred I reserve for few things. But, my friend Make Me is going to dye me up, and Alluring Images promises to make me look, if not pretty, then at least less of a total blot upon the face of humanity. I don’t think it’s doable, but they assure me it is, so I am supposed to trust them. Make Me in particular is twisting my arm like it’s going out of style, and I’m glad and grateful she is.
I think I’m better off with proof pages, but people have been asking for an updated author photo for months now. Eh. I might as well.
In short, I am a big heaving ball of neurotic today. Even the workout didn’t help, though I should feel good about achieving a state where I can steadily and consistent run for more than a half an hour. If the infrastructure goes down and the zombies start chewing on people, man, I’m ready.
Over and out.
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January 12th, 2009 at 2:43 pm
Do we get to see more cool blue in the dye job or something else? Way to go keeping up the exercising!
I forget, have you read World War Z yet? Brandon loves it and is anxiously awaiting my book queue allowing me a chance to read.
January 12th, 2009 at 6:02 pm
I have noticed that many people that have alot of personality do not like to get their photos taken. I think this is not so much that they are not pretty or attractive but because what is on the photo is not “them”. Then add in a bunch of self doubt from inside their own psyche, the media’s forced image of beauty and voila a photo phobe is born.
You will look wonderful. And I can’t wait to see the new photo. I like to know what the author looks like, although I don’t know why. Maybe to picture them slaving away at a computer or with a pen in their mouth in deep thought. My way of vicariously enjoying the process?