It’s been a trying and tiring post-concert day. But I did get a chunk of reading and planning done for the monograph, also set up the next fairytale salon and did some wrangling. Sad that I haven’t done any fiction writing this week. I’ve been too mentally and emotionally unsettled by [redacted]. So much so that this week has become a Cheat Week. At this rate I’ll put on a kg. Sigh.
I was nearly about to just give up on Watermyth but Agent Bro sent me such a strange rejection that’s now transformed into a revision request that I realised I have so much more work to do to get more unequivocal responses. All of the personals I’ve received so far seem to be saying the same thing. They seem to love the prose, the worldbuilding but they don’t seem able to connect with the style. I suspect some of this is because I *am* trying to do something very different with narrative. I really need an agent who is a hybrid between literary fiction and speculative fiction, someone who will appreciate what the novel is trying to do. But what if I never find that agent? And on the other hand, I do acknowledge that the novel needs some dramatic heft, and I could lose a few of the perspectives like nice Agent Bro suggested.
I’m kind of keen on Agent Bro because he’s been very quick to respond all the times I emailed him, and we communicate well. Communication is I think really important for me. I need an agent who is on the ball and who will keep me abreast of what is going on. Also seems an all-around nice fella and feels safe. Safe is good.
I was also keen on Superstar Agent Bro but he’s ghosted me since January and he has a huge and very impressive roster of clients. Readers, I don’t think he’s that into my novel. I expect to get a rejection sometime next year. I mean, ex-Dream Agent did eventually get to rejecting me. Though her rejection was really helpful and incisive.
I don’t think Tiffin is going to happen tomorrow. This week’s also been an intensely menstrual week. The past 3-4 months my period’s been quite scanty, albeit regular. But this month it’s back to being heavy. Not horribly heavy, but with godawful pains. I dunno why. Maybe I was stressed because I was pushing out articles, and the past two weeks I’ve basically not been working on articles and just doing readings/plannings for the monograph? Maybe. Maaaybe. Or maybe I am feeling okay because I’ve submitted all those articles. All I want to do after the last class tomorrow is to come home and pull on pjs. So I am a boring old fuddy-duddy but you know what, it’s nice to just come home and pull the covers over me. And I want to write. No, I need to write.
Someone has apparently put me in the Nebula Reading List. Wasn’t expecting to be put on anything this year. Grateful for it. That’s three years in a row. That’s something, even if I never get nominated. But there are thousands of good stories out there, so…who am I to presume.
Listening to: Yes, Anastasia — Tori Amos