So what now?
While it’s off being proofread, I’m doing non-book stuff. I’ve finished tiling the laundry wall and am now laying the floorboards, and assembling cabinets, which is great fun, mostly because I have no idea what I’m doing but have power drill so will drill stuff. As for publication dates Under Ten Thousand Stars, watch this space!
Much love, Samantha.
I finished the copy edit on Sunday which, as some of my author friends will know, is a detailed process involving a read-through of the entire manuscript to check that every single comma and dash is in the right place, along with spelling, typos, suspect grammar, and repeated phrases. Really, anything that’s not quite right. On that note, I discovered my characters have a preponderance for sighing and nodding, which makes them all sound like a bunch of wheezy bobble-heads. Fortunately, I have the best editor on the planet who flagged this. I also discovered one of my main protagonists, Michael, spends a lot of time walking up and down hills. Fair call for a winemaker, but this was too much, even for him. What to do? I stuck him in a tractor for a couple of scenes because, a) it added to the authenticity of the story and b) it saved readers from the whiplash of watching him traipse hither and yon. Probably the most glaring oversight, however, was the change of seasons. No in the natural sense, but in my fictional world where it’s summer, then winter, then summer again… Wait, what? I’ve settled on late-summer, my favourite time of the year, and now hope that none of the characters turn up in any scenes wearing mittens. If so, please feel free to email and let me know!
IT'S DONE. I’ve finished my next book. Not just the latest draft but the whole thing is done and dusted and ready to go off into publishing land. That’s not the title above, in case you’re wondering if I’d written a novel about sharp instruments. It’s called Under Ten Thousand Stars, and it’s a love triangle set in wine country, where everything seems just a little too perfect.
How do I feel?
Tired. Ridiculously happy. Stunned. It’s strange, really, because for the longest time you’re knee-deep in rewriting, reworking, and thinking – so much thinking – about plotlines and character motivations that you wonder if you’ll ever get to this stage.
For those of you who have been following previous posts, you’ll be familiar with the story: artist has affair with pilot – it ends badly. There’s also wine, cheese, grief, loss, regret, and a lot of slamming doors. There is a criminal element to this novel, mostly because it’s the author’s prerogative to be able to kill people – hence the reference to aforementioned scissors– and not end up behind bars. And what I’ve discovered is that readers really like it when the bad guy gets it. It’s human nature, I suppose, and also wholly satisfying…for me.
MADE IN PIXEL TOGETHER