Greetings, fellow readers, writers, and other lovers of the written word. My Manuscript is back from the editor and I have gone through each of the suggested revision points. I applied those that I deemed complimentary to my work (which was most of them) and discarded a couple that altered the direction of a particular protagonists plight or adversely affected the story in some other way. I found the following message from the editorial team very encouraging:
“Your editor has reviewed your manuscript and determined that your writing is strong enough that the editing package you selected would not provide a great benefit.
Therefore, the service has been changed to the standard Comprehensive Copyediting service, which will offer you the best benefit in cost and for your writing.
A refund in the amount of $427.00, the difference in cost between the two services, has been approved and is currently being processed.”
Wow, I didn’t know this type of thing actually occurred. I find it quite promising that a professional editor, one whose eyes fall upon countless manuscripts in a given year, is telling me that my writing is strong, and that they would not have put as much effort into their process in order for my manuscript to be developed into a publication ready piece. Nice!
Stay tuned… more will be revealed.
I needn’t come to terms with why I do the things that I do. I know what I’m doing. I am comfortable with it. What is intuitive to one may seem a compulsory act by another. Who is to say what makes up the intellectual interests of one mind over another, what fills the heart of one than another… to another? This is not for me to say of others nor should it be the mission of others to say of me. At this moment I am sitting in a cafe in the Oak Park neighborhood of Sacramento hunched over my computer, double mocha half reach to my right, doing what I love… I am writing. Surrounded by like-minded souls in a cafe of an eerily similar name we gather each week for the same purpose. Seeking, striving to attain the same goal which is not really a goal at all, per se… more a need. For some of us, perhaps an obsession. An obsession to write. The product of my efforts, or hers; his; theirs, are unimportant to you. They are all important to me… to us. I write for the pure joy that the creation of life on the page gives me. I write for the sake of dropping a dime on that little voice in my head that tells me that I have no time. I have no desire. I have no-thing to write. To this voice I say nothing. I pay it no heed, give it no power whatsoever as it has no power unless I empower it.
This is what we do. This is who we are. We are writers. Ghostly images reflecting in a cafe window, the diminished opacity of our true selves seemingly negating our very existence… still… we write. – JLJ