Jane Yolen's Blog, page 15

July 10, 2012-July 27, 2012

Well, there went the good intentions in all areas. Again. I meant to keep up better than this, though I have kept up doing my poem a day for a year and a half so far. But between writing and a social life (such as it is), working in the garden, major walks, keeping up with reading as well, there goes the neighborhood. Or the journal-hood.

Books:

That novel I was almost finished writing? Centaur Field. More good intentions undermined. I had a nagging, nagging bad feeling about it. Showed all but the last two chapters which weren’t yet written but vaguely outlined to my beta reader Debby and she hit me between the eyes with exactly the problems that had been nagging me but I was too bound up in finishing the book to listen to myself. So it’s back to square one (am up to chapter 10 now) and along the way I had to resurrect a major character I’d killed off in the first few pages, make him the center of attention and, eventually, the turning point for the solution of the plot. Lots of plot changes necessitated of course. AND I moved the entire thing back to the 1960s, with thalidomide babies, Beatles, Mr. Ed on tv and more. Why? Because my plot and its major secret made no sense in a world of the Internet, cell phones, the Cloud, where no secret can be kept.

In the meanwhile, I was also doing page proofs on B.U.G., copyedits on Jewish Fairy Tale Feasts, small revision stuff on end notes of Grumbles from the Forest, small edits on flap copy for several spring books, sending on requests to agents for a puppet show using The Witch Who Wasn’t, and a movie request for Except the Queen, trying to work out a list of possible illustrators for Thunder Underground. Worked with Heidi getting a first really good draft of First Day in Monster K for the illustrator. Got first copies of The Emily Sonnets (gorgeous), and pdfs of Rumbling Monsters, Tumbling Monsters. Also continuing small edits on Ekaterinoslav. Plus I wrote most of the talk I will be giving (a new talk called Soul Mates) in Duluth in October and began the death by a thousand cuts for the lecture I will be giving at St Andrews University.

How do I keep going? I find it all invigorating. And also because I believe this, which I wrote after reading something in Terri Windling’s wonderful blog, The Drawing Board:

 

Words Are Like Moles

Tunneling, always tunneling,

into the deep, the dark places,

the worm larders, the velvet night

where breath is moist and soft

and quiet is complete,

where there are no traces of light

until we poets hang the stars.

 

©2012  Jane Yolen. All rights reserved

 

And so I will continue to have the privilege and the chore of hanging stars to light the way for readers as long as I am able. And the hard work of it, too. Damn lights can be heavy, you know.

 

Play:

So what else did I do, besides dinners and teas with friends? Well, my friend Milbre Burch, magnificent storyteller, and her family were here for three (rainy) days, I visited the Wormiston House gardens for tea with friend Christine. Janie Douglas and two of her best friends and I did a big circuit at Cambo House. Went to a concert with cello (friend Claire playing), soprano, and organist at St Salvator’s chapel. Saw a couple of movies alone, and “Chariots of Fire” on the big screen with Nora. Went to the Friday night opening at the Pittenweem arts festival with Christine. And today–between sun and showers–watched an outdoor dance concert in which four people–two couples, one a man in a wheelchair who clearly did not have the use of his legs, dance a moving piece about love in its many manifestations in the small square between the town library and the church in St Andrews.

And boy! Are my wings tired!

June 29-July 9, 2012:

All good intentions washed away by the constant rain. According to the Met Office, this is Scotland’s rainiest summer since they started keeping accounts of it. Though I must say, it’s sunny out there right now though I am inside, once again felled by laryngitis.  But more of that anon.

 

Stuff in General:

I have been a very busy lady. Lots of visitors, and going places with friends. To the garden scheme at Balcaski House with friend Christine, for example. Even in the rain the garden  is gorgeous, elegant. An interesting house. A delightful young laird who came out and answered questions. Afterwards we went through the garden at Kelly Castle, my favorite. I bought flowers to plant at both places.

Later on the weekend, I had tea with friends Janie and Pam in the garden at Rufflets Country House. We were the only ones sitting outside because–yep–it was pouring rain. But we were under a great big garden umbrella and so had the place to ourselves.

The next morning a photographer came from Edinburgh to do in-depth photographs of the house for a book by Yale University Press on the Scottish Arts&Crafts movement. I thought it would be an hour at most,  but he was here for four hours and, since it was raining and he still needs a good outside photo or five, he will be back.

End of the week, Kathrine Langrish, a wonderful fantasy writer from Oxford, and her husband David, plus Lisa Tuttle (coming over from near Glasgow) arrived for a a couple of overnights. We walked into town for dinner. The next day was the third annual Wayside Luncheon for YA Fantasy Writers and, yes, it was bucketing down all day long. Debby and Bob Harris, Elizabeth Wein, Elizabeth Kerner, AnnMarie Allen were all in attendance. Two more who were supposed to come were both felled by illnesses–Caroline Clough and Alex Nye. By evening I had NO voice left from all the passionate gabbing. And now, a day and a half later, it is still full-blown laryngitis.

Writing:

I finished draft (oh, I don’t know) 7 or 8 of an odd retelling of an urban Red Riding Hood. Probably a short story, possibly something else. And a Wizard of Oz story in which Dorothy, whirled away by the cyclone, joins a circus in Missouri, second full draft down and probably a couple of strong revisions to go.

Rebecca Dotlich and I finished an on-spec picture book called The Mouse Poet which we have sent on to our agent.

I went over 7 different updated versions of the Ekaterinoslav poems in book format. It looks lovely ith archival (and family) photographs. I kept finding things I wanted to change, driving my usually calm editor Jim Perlman quite mad.

Wrote a new poem for Thunder Underground, which I had thought entirely done. Editor loved it, but that necessitated about ten backs and forths as well.

I wrote a number of poems for Terri Windling’s blog on writing and the artist’s life. Here is one of them:

A Visit to the Inquisitor

Yes, he knows the questions,

but he does not know the answers.

His brain knocks, nudges, puzzles,

does not let him sleep at night.

Not knowing is a pebble in the shoe,

that never ceases to annoy

even when the sock is stripped away.

Whatever answers I give him

breathed out in a forced breath

are not enough. He does not trust them.

He is mad with the dark pathways

that I dance down so easily,

If he is cruel with me,

he is crueler with himself.

I forgive him in the end.

I know where I am going,

the answers in my pocket,

the fork ahead a treasure.

It is all about the road.

©2012 The Drawing Board

 

Tomorrow I return to Centaur Field and try to finish it by week’s end. Wish me luck, and kiss me, Hardy. Tis a far,, far better thing, etc.

 

 

May 28-June 28, 2012:

Ah, dear and patient (and constant) readers, I am not dead. Not nearly dead. I have just been spinning about like a top, trying to get things done, becoming occasionally undone, and feeling ever increasingly guilty about this journal. So here you have a massive catch-up, a month’s worth. I will sound a lot busier than I actually have been because you are getting it all in one swell foop, as Mr. Spooner would have said.

Travel:

Yes, I got to Scotland on June 4, with no major hiccups, not like last year when a volcanic eruption made travel. . .um. . . interesting. Or the year before when my eardrum burst three hours before I had to leave for the Edinburgh airport. And except for a rather heavy landing and the fact that my wonderful friend Debby mistook the plane I was in on for another one which was an hour late and I had to hang around the airport without sleep for an extra hour, everything went smoothly.

 

Book Stuff:

*I have (finally and happily) sold my novel Trash Mountain and a picture book, Song of Seasons, to two different publishers,   but otherwise continued to rack up rejections of the nicest possible kind.

*I have been doing (and redoing) changes from editors on Thunder Underground, B.U.G., Grumbles from the Forest, How Do Dinosaurs Say Happy Chanukah, and about to get notes on The Hostage Prince. Please note–writing is not just writing and then revising, it is also under the editor’s fell eye noodling, modifying, condensing, re-arranging, arguing, augmenting, and being nibbled to death by ducks.

*Inspired by Katherine Langrish’s lovely Forsaken, a 3,000 word “chapter book.” I have attempted some myself. Have been working on Red in the Wood (a Red Riding Hood redaction), First Flight (fairy-ish creatures and two sisters), and re-looking at Shlimiel Comes to America.

*Still writing a poem a day, though occasionally I write several poems and parcel them out amongst the upcoming days. Not sure if that is cheating. Along the way, I seem to be coming up with three distinct possible books of adult poetry: Growing Old (about the aging process), Blue Line (poems about writing), and Wait A Minute ( a calendar of New England weather poems). Also the possibility, though only have a few poems so far, less than ten in each, for Alphabet of Evil (Holocaust), and The Bloody Tide (political poems)

*Mostly though, am trying to finish the draft of the novel Centaur Field since it has a July due date. The trouble is that it keeps getting longer and that’s not good in this case as it is meant (by contract) to be short.

 

Fun Stuff:

Daughter Heidi and her daughter Maddison and Maddison’s boyfriend Brett came to Scotland for ten days. Mostly it rained. Mostly we ignored it. They visited the ruined castles of Dunotter, Tantallon and Dirleton. The ruined Arbroath Abbey. The ruined St Andrews castle. The ruined St Andrews Cathedral. (Are you sensing a theme here?) Some Pictish stones at Glamis and Aberlimno. The gardens at Glamis Castle. The Seabird trip around the Bass Rock. And twice into Edinburgh. I did some of this with them, did all of the driving. Loved having them, they are all smart and funny and fun, and it’s nice to show the house and the country off.  I adore my family. But it put me behind in my writing schedule and, as you will see a bit later on in this narrative, some other lingering problems as well.

I have seen the following movies: Snow White and the Huntsman (beautiful and even astonishing visuals, bad script, and Kristen Stewart proves for all times that she can’t act. But the Wicked Stepmother (as I have said elsewhere) chews all the scenery and anyone’s undergarments left in her way. Interesting I enjoyed Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Slayer much more. The script was tight, the battles horrifying, and the history amazingly intact.

In Massachusetts, before coming to Scotland, I went to a lovely (if rainy) party for Brett’s graduation. I also visited the Northampton Paradise Arts and Crafts fair with friend Karl, and had dinner with him later in the week. Once in Scotland–dinners in and out with family and friends began in earnest. Watched the Olympic torch being carried up our street, with hundreds of others onlookers. My first ever close up and personal Olympic torch encounter. Had a small party thrown for me at the Botanical Gardens in St Andrews to welcome me back. Tea dates (scones and cream and jam, yum!)Went to a music house party that was super. Took visiting friends around the East Neuk.

And of course I wrote, which was fun in its own way.

 

Medical  Notes:

Maddison arrived in Scotland with a sore throat, a cough, and snuffling. By the end of their ten days with me, I had caught. . . something. Laryngitis and sinusitis and then, oddly, conjunctivitis which I hadn’t had in maybe thirty-five years. My eye doctor friend Marcel told me that a sinus problem can also lead to the small c. So I ended up. just days after they left, compulsively washing my hands, my glasses, putting gunk in my eyes, and ended the siege with a day’s worth of stomach problems. NOT how I wanted to spend time in Scotland. Among other things, it meant missing a dinner with Debby and Bob, and missing as well going around the St A Open Gardens day with my friend Christine.

And that about sums it up.

 

*

 

 

 

 

May 24-May 27, 2012:

Full summer seems to have arrived early, with temperatures in the eighties. I do not do well once things climb over the mid-seventies, that is I have trouble thinking when it gets that hot. But living in air conditioning for more than an hour gives me ear-aches. This is one of the reasons (but of course not the only one) that I spend summers in Scotland. I let the house-sitters swelter here in Massachusetts. Well, there is always the air conditioning!

In the last few days book and writing wise, I have done the daily poem, of course Worked on a first rough draft of the first chapter of the second book of the trilogy I am writing with son Adam (got that?). As yet it has no title. I have also fiddled with (technical term!) revisions on the ARCH poems and sent them to my agent. Fiddled with some other poems. Began going over the copyedited B.U.G. novel. And fiddled as well with a collection of adult poems called Just Wait A Minute: A New England Sampler,  a year/calendar of weather poems in and around New England, actually about five years worth of poems. Not sure what to do with it, though, or where to send it.

I finished reading a historical fantasy novel and am now in the middle of the hefty biography of Abigail and John Adams.

On the fun side: I went with Movie Bob to see “Headhunters” which turned out to be something like “Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” as directed by the Cohen Brothers. Or at least it felt like that: so much violence, it became slapstick, but really a story about the illusion, disillusionment, and then reassembling of a marriage. I also ran the annual Jane Yolen Writing Contest at the Hatfield Elementary School, had lunch with friend Mira to discuss our mutual project,  went to the monthly children’s book writers/illustrators dinner and martini party, enjoyed watching the Amherst Ballet spring performance in which Maddison danced twice, hauling along my friend Karl, after which we went up Mount Sugarloaf to look over the beautiful Connecticut River Valley, and back to my house for dinner and to watch “My Week with Marilyn” which we both highly enjoyed.

Now I am in full Get Ready for Scotland mode, with a few side journeys ahead, such as the Williston graduation annual arts/crafts fair at the Northampton Fair Grounds, my last writing group till Fall, lunch with friend Jodie. Lots to do, lots to do. Probably little writing this week.

May 8-May 23, 2012:

So much for promises. Time shot by and where was I?

Well, in-between the last post and this, I I have been to Boston, Stamford, Charleston SC. I have celebrated my twin granddaughters 9th birthday (and their father’s, my son Jason, on the same day); reunioned with 70+Yolen relatives and did my first public reading of some of the poems from Ekaterinoslav; said goodby at the memorial of my dear old friend, Anna; had an author friend–Steve Gould–stay over so he could take his daughter home when her first year of Smith College came to an end; signed books and presented to two large groups of second graders at a Charlesbridge Publishing party; took granddaughter Maddison to get new toe shoes; had dinners with friends, took an old college buddy around three museums and onto Mt Sugarloaf to see the best view in the Connecticut River Valley; heard Wendell Minor speak at the Eric Carle Museum; went Balkan dancing with my friend Karl in Brattleboro; went to see “The Avengers” with my friend Bob Marstall; did the radio show (interviewing Leslea Newman) without Heidi who had laryngitis;  read all the entries in the Jane Yolen Writing contest and chose the winners for my local elementary school.

And in-between, of course, I wrote and wrote and wrote. I revised (three times) Thunder Underground poems for the editor; I rewrote the ending of Trash Mountain for another editor, I worked on the poems in Arch, finished the poems in Famous Otter with Pat Lewis, did a new chapter in Centaur Field. Oh, I was a writing fiend.

And of course have begun the count down to Scotland.

Have I been a busy bee? Waspishly, yes.

 

May 5-May 7, 2012:

Trying to keep up a bit better, I am going to talk about the past three days which have been filled with writing and revising three possible books of poetry as well as adding a couple of chapters to Centaur Field.  I also went Balkan dancing with my friend Karl, attended a Computer Science Department awards dinner and talked with old friends and colleagues of David’s there (getting a bit nostalgic and weepy in the process), and visited the Eric Carle Museum to hear an interview with Wendell Minor, one of the premier illustrators of today and a friend.

The process of revising poetry is one that interests me because it is different from the process of revising  novels. Novels have that big sweep, characterization, landscapes both inner and outer. And while I always try to write them with as much poetry as I can, often the plot demands short, sharp verbs and fast movement instead of languid and/or lyrical lines.

But poetry. . .I may rewrite a single poem anywhere from a three to three dozen times, reading them aloud, changing not only a line or two, a word or three, but sometimes an entire rhyme scheme along the way.

Here’s a poem from ARCH: A Span of Foot Poems and its consequent revisions. Just to see what I mean.

First draft: the poem was placed in the middle of the book as I worked.  In this first draft it seems a bit like a sketch for a poem, though I like where it leads:

Instep

Instep,

Step out,

Step over

Step off

Set off

Then finally

Sit right down

And rest your feet awhile.

 

 

Second draft: Still in the middle of the book, I still like the direction in which it’s going, though I have added a bit to the mid-section.

Instep

Instep,

Step in

Step out,

Set out

Step over

Step off

Set off,

Then finally

Sit right down

And rest your feet awhile.

 

Third Draft: I have repositioned it as the final poem. This placing has been dictated by the final three lines. I want the readers to rest a while and think about what they’ve just read. The title has changed a bit, too. As have the first lines. And the last lines have been slightly restructured.

 

Instep, In Step

Instep,

In step.

Step in,

Step out.

Set out,

Step over.

Step off

Set off.

Then finally

Sit right down

And rest

your feet

awhile.

 

Fourth draft: A tiny change within the body of the piece, making it structurally more balanced, and some errant upper case letters made lower case at the end part. Will it remain this way in future revisions of the book proposal as a whole? Only time (and an editor, if I manage to sell the book) will tell.

 

Instep, In Step

Instep.

In step.

Step in.

Step out.

Set in.

Set out.

Step over.

Step off.

Step around.

Set off.

Then finally

sit right down

and rest

your feet

awhile.

 

 

April 4-May4, 2012

A full month gone by? I can scarcely credit it. I have been so busy, I barely noticed it happening. But here I am, back with news, some musing, and a poem. Enjoy.

First book news:

I now have copies of BUG OFF! and LAST LAUGHS: Animal Epitaphs. I have seen a blad of WAKING DRAGONS. Have seen some of the artwork an the full dummy for GRUMBLES FROM THE FOREST: Fairy Tale Voices with a Twist. Yeah, it has been a happy book time.

As far as writing goes, Adam and I finished the first full draft of THE HOSTAGE PRINCE which is the first book of the SEELIE WARS TRILOGY and then I took the first revision pass on it after we sat down and discussed stuff that needed attention. It’s in Adam’s competent hands now. When he is done, I will go over it one last time after which it does to agent and editor simultaneously. The thing about these last revision passes (we revise each chapter several times as we go along so technically, ever chapter has been heavily revised a dozen or more times along the way already) is that it is the first time we really see the entire book whole. As I went through it, I took careful notes about things that needed re-threading throughout, making sure that hair color, emotional concerns, and even landscape remained consistent. Though of course I’m sure I have forgotten lots of stuff. Editor and copyeditor who will be seeing this stuff cold will catch most of the rest. Also, the editor and I discussed cover concepts and I sent them two (not guarantee either will be used, however.)

I am also about four chapters from the end of CENTAUR FIELD. Most of the work this month was on HOSTAGE PRINCE, but now I have returned with renewed enthusiasm to this book. Managed a new chapter, brought in an unexpected villain, (well, unexpected to the reader, not to me) to give a bit more plot twists. Will have a horsie friend read it for those kind of horse details I may have screwed up since it has been years and years since I have ridden. And then I will send it off.

Been working on some new picture books–THE STRANDED WHALE, GARGOYLE’S HALLOWEEN BALL, THE FAMOUS OTTER’S WRITING CIRCLE. Other stuff.

Saw Tara Chang’s dummy for THE TROUBLE WITH TAKING TROLLS TO TEA, a book we want to try and sell together.

Have been writing a lot of poetry, and seven poems just came out in Horn Book, and a long, multiple part poem called “Objectifying Faerie” came out in Asimov’s.

And of course along the way I had several picture books and a novel rejected. It’s all part of the greater plan to keep me humble!

 

Travel:

I went to Chicago for IRA (International Reading Assn) and was on a panel/workshop/reading of humorous poetry with J. Patrick Lewis, Marilyn Singer, and Sylvia Vardell, plus did 8 signings, all of which went splendidly and we ran out of books! Scholastic debuted the dinosaur hall costume and many photographs ensued!

I went to Minnesota for Minicon, an sf convention, but also to see son Adam and his family. Adam and I talked books. I snuggled with my grandkids Alison and David, and Betsy and I went out shopping for her birthday clothes.

Mid month I went to Hattiesberg, Mississippi where I was awarded he deGrummond Medal at the Un of S Mississippi. Spoke several times, the silver medallion is gorgeous, with my face on one side, and an owl flying across the moon on the other side. And the people–the people were all so warm and welcoming and lovely!

I also went down (not much travel time at all) to the New England SCBWI conference which this year was being held in Springfield, MA, just 25 minutes from my house. I spoke a couple of times, gabbed with everyone, but got to sleep in my own bed.

 

Heidi and Me and “Once Upon A Time:

We host a monthly radio show for WHMP and converse/interview local children’s book creators. This month it was Scott Fischer. Gorgeous artist, lovely man. We had a marvelous time.

 

Being Social:

Lots of tea dates and dinner dates with friends, movies dates, went to Annie Boutelle’s poetry reading, hosted the WMIG monthly meeting, spoke at Betsey Harris’ folklore class at Smith, went to a wonderful dinner celebration for visiting children’s book writer/scholar Betsy Hearn and heard her presentation at the Carle.

 

Valedictions to two friends:

It was so hard saying a final farewell to two friends–Peg Davol and Anna Kirwan, both dead too soon of cancer. I had mentored both of them, called them friends, colleagues, admired their work and work ethic. And loved them both. They both died serenely, comforting those around them. And they both will be missed terribly.

 

And here is the promised poem:

 

A Specific Gravity

Sometimes a poem,

sometimes merely a thought,

reaches a specific gravity

and greenness begins.

Like a fingerling swimming

against the pool’s pull,

dark green question mark.

Like the uncurling fern,

the top of a fiddle,

never to be played

except in the retinal memory.

Like the quick thrust

of daffs before the winter

is quite over,

before spring quite begins.

Quick green thoughts.

Sometimes just like that.

April 2-3, 2012:

Mourning friends simply does not get any easier. I suppose it is a sign of how old I am. But dear Peg Davol died last week and this week I went with my writing group to sit for awhile with our friend, colleague, mate Anna Kirwan who is in hospice care at her home. She is serene and accepting. I wrote this poem about her:

 

For Anna, Luminous in Her Dying

 

You have the face of a medieval angel,

hair a halo of gray curls,

and the birds by your bedside,

alerted by our conversations,

sing hallelujahs into the air.

I do not think I can be a celebrant

at your death bed, it would be indecent

since I do not believe as you believe,

the throne of glory and all that stuff.

But I can hold your hand, make metaphor

of your face, your curls, your parakeets,

And that will have to be enough,

if only for me, not you, who has that whole

God in Heaven, next adventure thing going for you.

Me, I just have grief.

 

I have a life, too, though in the face of Anna's moment, it seems very–oh, I don't know–prosaic. I received a copy of Conclave magazine with three of my poems leading the pack. I got ten copies of son Jason's coffee table book Kiawah which is just gorgeous. I wrote a bit on Magnus, thought a bit about the Centaur Field book and fiddled with it. Entertained Peter Beagle, Connor (his business manager) and Connor's wife Terri. We went out to dinner. They stayed over. We gabbed and gabbed and gabbed. I made them breakfast in the morning. Went for a back doctor check up. Did some pre-packing for my forthcoming trip to Minnesota.

But all the while, Anna's luminous face was before me.

Selah.

March 10-April 1, 2012:

Two hacker attacks on my website later, and am trying to post this. I mean–how small can you get, hacking a website where kids to go to to do research for author studies? Hey, guys–go mess with a multi-national arms dealers or rotten credit card companies or super pac political organizations.

During the time small-minded hackers were shutting me down, I wrote about  twenty poems, worked up to the next to last chapter on The Hostage Prince (son Adam who is co-writing it is writing the last chapter) and a couple of chapters in Centaur Field (almost to the end of that as well.) Also, I rewrote the Magnus/Unnatural History Museum piece which I'm doing with Mira Bartok and set it into short chapters, which is about a third of the book, I think. I wrote a couple of short (compressed) pieces, the promised essay/intro for a new Margot Lanagan collection, did some work on a picture book called Monster K which Heidi and I are writing. Heidi and I went to Watertown/Boston to work all day on final edits of Bad Girls with the editor and art director. Reveled in the art work by Rebecca Guay. Managed a few final edits on Grumbles from the Forest, a book of poems Rebecca Kai Dotlich and I have written. Got movie contract for the How Do Dinosaur books.

Along the way, sold three poems to Conclave Magazine, one short piece to a magazine of Compressed Lit, had the Lanagan piece accepted.

Books in: first copy of Last Laughs: Animal Epitaphs, ARC of Curse of the Thirteenth Fey, paperback bookclub edition of Pretty Princess Pig.

Other stuff: Regular swim therapy, writers' group meeting, teas and dinners with friends, the Amherst Ballet fete, a poetry reading at Smith where friends read, regular (new) WHMP radio show with Heidi, on a panel of writers for local public radio to raise money, went to hear Alan Reid at the Iron Horse, saw "The Hunger Games", flew to Michigan where I gave a talk at the Battle Creek library (and had a touch of food poisoning), went to a Balkan folk dance evening with a friend where I realized I am not the dancer I used to be, celebrated my granddaughters' birthday with a dinner at the Go Ten, went to the illustrator guild's meeting, and was on four or five panels at an sf/fantasy convention at Smith College, as well as a celebratory party for Mira Bartok who's marvelous book The Memory Palace recently won the National Book Critics' Circle award for memoir.

Am I tired? Yes.

Will I do this sort of thing again?

Of course.

Its my job, my love, my fascination, my enduring passion.

Interstitial Moment:

Time for a small rant.

As part of publishing's attempt to make-things-easier-or-at-least-faster, some misbeguided and misbegotten techie invented something called "track changes" a couple of years ago. The editor sends a manuscript as a attachment and on that online attachment are purple/green/blue sticky-like notes with queries or copyeditor changes on them. Dotted lines point to the place where said changes or queries come from.

In theory, possibly fine.

In practice, a bloody mess.

The print is tiny and if one tries to put it in a larger font, everything goes whacky. If more than one person is working on the mss. (ie a co-author, a copy editor, and the editor) things are incredibly hard to read.

I hate it. It makes me crazy. And I act like some elderly diva (well, maybe that's an accurate description) who simply can't move forward with the times. But I am of the if-it-ain't broke school of writing. And I don't want to be constantly at war with the machinery while I am trying to put final touches on a manuscript.

Last night I began one of two manuscripts that came to me that way. The easier one, I thought,  (a small book of poetry) I began at once. I left the novel for the next day. Along the way, the computer ate my changes and crashed five separate times. I finally had to save after each tiny change just in case. I managed to finish it up and send it out first thing this morning. And then I tackled the novel. Amazingly, there were so few copyedits, that things went pretty smoothly. Oh, not entirely. I only hated it slightly less than the poetry TC.

So, let me state in no uncertain terms in case you have missed the point of this rant. "Track Changes" slows things down on the writer's end and makes the writer (or at least me) miss major things. In the end, it will be more costly because I will be making changes on the page proofs.

In essence, even though copyeditors and techies love this new toy, I think it is counter-intuitive for the creating artist.

Or at least it is for this one. I am opting out, thank you. Give me my manuscript pages back. I can track the changes that way, computers be damned.