Skip to main content

September Catch-Up



Dear Reader,

Ah, feels like I can breathe again. No pressure, no plot holes, no character flaws, no shitty first draft manuscript to rewrite.

First of all, a huge thanks to the three awesome individuals - you know who you are - for taking on the gargantuan (in my opinion) task of beta reading. I will forever be grateful.

One of my beta's apparently couldn't stop reading and it took her only 3 nights to critically motor through 78,000+ words. The feedback was so positive that I've decided to pursue submitting to literary agents.

On Tuesday 24 September I will be taking part in the Manuscript Wishlist or #mswl Twitter event 9am-5pm NYC time, which means 3pm-11pm this side. This is a first for me and I'm hoping to connect with at least one literary agent amoung the extensive list of talented agents calling for submissions. Fishing has never been my strong-suit but this will kind of be like trawling so I'm bound to catch something, right?

Of course, I will keep you posted. And now, we've reached the bane of my existence phase: rewriting the synopsis. Gosh, me hates it so. Basically the ad to seduce professionals into reading my noname scribbles. Oh, and rewriting my bio in an authentic way showing who I am - a "sneak peek into the person I am about to meet, a glimpse into the brain behind the book." (blogpost by lit agent Devin Ross, MSWL site). All in all the recipe for a batch of disaster.

I've just spotted two agents accepting submissions as we speak, so here we go. My beta is cracking the whip for next book. In the near future you will be able to check out my website (coming soon) for a hint on the name of the follow-up to Supernova - you will be able to find the title on a certain page in the first book. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Getting published is still just a dream away. Nevertheless, happy dancing to Twenty One Pilots' The Hype right now.

Exciting times.

EL

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Wild Woman

Dear Reader, The Wild Woman has been on my mind for some time now. My husband and I had a discussion this past weekend about the premise of the book Women Who Run With The Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estés. I'd been fervently devouring its pages when I recently realised this book shares a similar theme with a manuscript I've working on for the past couple of years. When I tried to explain to him the need for women, the need for me, to be wild and free, he asked, 'But what is it that women want to be freed from? What does it mean to be wild?' I've married a good man. Unlike those who came before him, he's never tried to tame the wild feminine out of me. Not only does this unique man embrace every aspect of my wildness, he encourages it. I've never met a person who "gets" me like he does. Men like him are few and far between and I can say this with a fair amount of certainty, because experience. I know what every male representative of ...

Short Story Monday - The Day The Applebaum's Met

The Day The Applebaum's Met Being part of a family which consists of an inventor for a father, an artist for a mother, and five siblings which differ from each other on every imaginable level might sound delightful. I can assure you, being in the company of this particular group of Applebaums is everything but a delight. We try our very best to avoid gatherings. We keep it simple: a one-on-one meeting is a lot less volatile. There’s not much potential to get into a heated argument with just one of us. And if the pawpaw hits the fan the possibility to outrun only one was far greater. The odds would be favourable in such an instance. And we have all run away from each other at some point or another. I must admit, when I see other families getting on like a house on fire I am envious. And when I say like a house on fire I mean it in a good way, not in the Applebaum way, like the day we attended our grandmother’s funeral. It was Francis who had started it. Even though she is the ...

Confessions: I Often Disappear

The hours of my days and the days of my life belong to a tiny individual with a big presence. Some days are tougher than others. There is no me, only her. I disappear. On other days I receive rejection letters from literary agents as well. During those tough ones it feels like even the memory of me too will fade and no one will remember that I'd ever lived. On those days I have to actively seek out the happy.  So here goes. My happy is in the sound of notes resonating from the strings of my husband's guitar. It's in the sweet scent of fresh blooms and in the taste of a slice of cake for breakfast. It's in the blue of the ozone, the fragile guardian of our planet. It's in the golden glare of the setting sun over the mountain. It's in a cool breeze carrying the smell of the sea through my open window. It's the latest New Girl episode. It's  Bad Lipreading . The adoration for me in my husband's eyes. My daughter's giggle and the way h...