I’ve been inexcusably quiet here the last few weeks, and no, it’s not because of NaNoWriMo. Again, real life and things got in the way of that. Let me tell you, there’s nothing I would have rather done than write a novel from scratch, revel in the joy of creation, and bask in the awesome of writing for the month of November. But life has a way of being a stinkypants sometimes, and that’s totally what happened. I won’t get into the details of the personal life stuff, but it comes down to the fact that I’ve been job hunting, working on GeekMom, doing the holiday thing, working on Crossed Genres, and using my extra time to catch up on some anthology submissions (and a sale) as well as edits for Pilgrim of the Sky. When I had less work to do, NaNo was far easier.
In addition, we just released the first issue of Crossed Genres edited by Jaym Gates and myself. A momentous occasion, to be sure, as I’ve never been an editor of such proportions before. I really enjoy the process of finding those stories that shine. I’m particularly fond of the steampunk/Chinese influenced world of Jaymee Goh’s story “Lunar Year’s End“, but the TOC is really strong all throughout. What other magazine brings you such a width and breadth of genres? It’s truly fun to be part of the Crossed Genres team, and we have lots in store for the months to come.
Also important to note, I decided to axe the original ending of the Pilgrim of the Sky in favor of something more… transcendental. The book now contains 100% more quahog and 100% sphinx. I will rework some of the 10K I chopped, including the climax scene, but my heroine needed more punch. And now she’s got it.
Meanwhile, I am doing my darndest to focus on Pilgrim and edits and publication and try not to let other issues in the publishing industry get to me. But it’s hard. My husband is always the first to remind me that I’ve made a huge amount of progress in the last few years, but I can’t let go of that annoying voice in the back of my head. The one that doubts. That tells me I’m really not terribly marketable (squids and exploding eyeballs and whatnot).
Then I tell myself to shut up. Because, in the end it doesn’t really matter, does it? It comes down to the fact that, hell or high water, I write. And writing will happen whether or not I’m marketable. Maybe one of the weird ass books I write will start a trend. Or maybe it won’t. It makes me happy. And that’s the most important part. *cue the strings*
Anyrot! The gears do keep on moving, and I am the machine. So tally-ho!