What Next?

The deconstruction of Hafan Deg is going fairly well and shouldn't take me very long. I am working with a much more positive attitude now. Christopher - who's such a know-it-all - seems to know it all, after all, and I am in awe of his succinct, perhaps not always welcome, suggestions.

As I remove said chunks of words, I find myself wondering what that bit was about and why I felt it was imperative to include it. Someone recently wrote that some backstory need never appear, as long as the character is influenced by it through the story, and I see that this is true. Another writer echoed this. The history of each character is a totally separate exercise, outside the manuscript itself, and will be obvious to the reader from the careful drawing of each character.

I think I always knew this. I've been writing for decades, and read everything I could about the craft. Yet I blythely ignored these writers' tips, believing - what? - that I was above it in some way?

So the streamlined version is coming along nicely. The original, larger MS is still on the website, but I will replace it when the shorter one is finished.

In this final slowing-down period, where the worst is over for the creation of this book, I've already begun to think about the next one. Should the manuscript of Hafan Deg be taken up by some agent, or publisher, it could be months, even a year or more, before publication. This isn't the time to sit back and lazily follow its journey. I intend to begin the new one in the next few weeks. I'm also considering a re-write of my first book, because it's a nice story, and no one else has done it, as far as I know.

So I feel the pressure is off for the time being. Christopher has been quite clear about my need to de-stress over it. When I began this blog, I had hoped for clear, firm, constructive criticism - mixed, I'd hoped, with some sympathy, even empathy, to soften the blows. Christopher has done a stellar job of that. Thank you, Christopher.

And I didn't mean it about McDonalds...

Hafan Deg - First Three Chapters Only

On Friday, I said I would be leaving my complete novel - all 500 pages exactly, how weird is that? - on this blog for one month - well, I said until the end of February. I received a nice comment - very positive about the book, by the way - suggesting I was unwise to show the whole MS online.

I've thought about this a lot during the time I've been posting, and wondered why so few others seem to do it. I simply figured they weren't brave enough.

The book was copyrighted in December through the Canadian Intellectual Property Office, Registration No. 1063562. So that, you'd think, does away with the fear of plagiarism, which, in itself, seems a rather arrogant fear, considering my amateur status. But, you never know...

It's more likely that my helpful reader was concerned that an agent would have no interest in a book that was available free online. I think this is what he meant. I've asked him to clarify, by the way, but nothing to report to date. Whatever his feelings were, I felt that he was right, and I took his advice. That's why there are now only three chapters here.

So, for all of you who genuinely enjoy Hafan Deg, who are Followers of this blog, I'm happy to give you the website where you can read it all to your heart's content, possibly without ever feeling the need to read this blog again, which might be a bonus for you. Just comment and I'll respond with the details.

I have a bit of tidying up to do with my writing docs. I'll probably spend the day fiddling around with them, dumping a lot of stuff, archiving material I didn't use - yes, there was quite a bit that I left out, believe it or not.

And next week I'll begin the query process. I kept the original synopsis and query letter that got this MS into the hands of Allen & Unwin, in Sydney, in the first place. It was successful in piqueing their curiosity then, so I'll undoubtedly incorporate it into my current submissions. Oh, and the book was only 385 pages then. I certainly had a lot more to say. Let's hope it's an improvement.

I was thinking it might be cute to put up some sort of meter, showing the number of submissions, and the number of rejects, with dates. If that sounds coldblooded, well, the publishing world is, isn't it? I'm not so naive as to expect less than a dozen, fifty, or more rejections.

The one thing we don't talk about, the thing that is always uppermost in my mind, is how much all of this is going to cost! 500 pages has to printed many times, I hope, so there's the cost of ink casettes (I'm running it off myself), paper, boxes or sturdy envelopes, stamps. Sheesh! That could add up.

Once again, my thanks to all of you who have been following me. I hope you'll continue the journey with me. I really enjoy knowing you're there.

Chapters Twenty-Three through Thirty Tonight

I had wanted to complete the revisions on Hafan Deg (which you all know, who have been following it, means Safe Harbor in Welsh) by this evening. Tomorrow, a brand New Year, my manuscript should have been waiting only for all those lovely agents to come back to their offices next Monday (well, I intended to give them a few days to settle back in) all refreshed and renewed, like the year, and they would all be ready for the earnest queries I intended to send them.

But I'm not quite finished...

I believe there are four, possibly five, chapters to go, and they are the trickiest of the lot, being the culmination of the story, the final resolution of the various emotional strains and stresses my poor heroine had through the previous 400 pages.

I have to admit to shedding tears during these last chapters. Silly, when you consider it's 'only fiction', but those of you who write, those of you who, as serious readers, deeply identify with a book, will know the characters are alive and well inside the writers' mind. And, if they're not, then they have no place on the written page, for what would we find moving about them? So I've gotten a bit too excited at some of the romantic couplings, and I definitely shed those darned tears during the really sad bits.

New Year has always been a far more important time to me than Christmas, since my children left home. New Year is the promise of better things, new and exciting opportunities, and I usually shed tears watching the various cities around the world as they each, in turn, celebrate. The cities can be safe - well, as safe as any city these days - or they can be war-torn, or politically at odds, recovering from floods and riots, and all the horrible things we see on our news. Yet, at New Year, the people gather with that same incredible, almost child-like, anticipation, waiting for the chance to begin again. This time it will be different. This time it really will be better.

So, watching that, seeing that lovely optimism, that adds to my weepiness. No one can ever say I'm not sentimental. It's just that I don't show it much in public, but get it down into my writing instead.

Hold on for the last few chapters of Karen's story. Nearly there.

I hope you have a wonderful, safe, and rewarding New Year.

Have to go now, because I need another tissue.