An annoyingly discreet and oblique post

[desperance]

Umm. I ought not even to be posting this, because if I've learned anything in thirty years (man and boy at the word-face, wheeze, shuffle, arthritic cough), it is that disappointment is always the order of the day, and nothing carries any weight until offers are made and contracts are signed.

However.

Someone I love & admire has just expressed an unexpected degree of enthusiasm for something I've written. No offer or anything, you understand, at the moment it's just being shared around the office for other views; but, well, I just hadn't expected this, y'know? So I am foolishly excited despite my wiser nature, and not at all focused on my day's proper work.

Also, this was said:

"I wanted to cut a fair amount (just phrases, really: he says something once beautifully, then again more beautifully, then again even more beautifully, and after a bit of that you just want him to stop indulgences and get on with the story)"

and that just made me grin, because it is so familiar and (I am sure) so true; and before that, this was said:

"Well, I loved this, of course I did,"

and that just made me grin also, because that is so exactly my own turn of phrase, and I'm not sure if it was a deliberate parody or an unconscious taint of voice, but either way I'm grinning. Pattern recognition.

There is a promise made, that we will hear again next week. I don't, of course, believe this. But it's nice to have in my pocket all the same, to carry me through the weekend.

Comments

[desperance.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

But that's such good fun, isn't it? If a thing doesn't sometimes thrill & sometimes devastate us, why bother doing it?

Oh, you're right, of course. My scalp is still all prickly with excitement, and yes, I love it. Like when I'm on a roll with the words, and I write a page or a paragraph or just a phrase and I know I couldn't have written it better. But I do still have this thing about needing to keep my own mundane self in neutral when I'm working, so that the hopes or glooms of my real life don't come between my writer-self and the page. Uh, does that make sense...?

With a phrase like that, I'm afraid I'm off to order one of your books . . .

Don't be afraid. Try "Bridge of Dreams" - I think you might like it.

[melissa-writing.livejournal.com]

I ordered DEAD OF LIGHT :) I was debating btw it & DISPOSSESSION, but it looks like there's a sequel to DoL so I went for it instead.

RE: "But I do still have this thing about needing to keep my own mundane self in neutral when I'm working, so that the hopes or glooms of my real life don't come between my writer-self and the page. Uh, does that make sense...?"

It does. I'm miserable abt keeping real self & text apart though. I sunk into fits of gloom during parts of the second novel, & of course, the inverse happens as well--bliss out here in the real world filters into text. I just keep a few texts in progress so if I have a mood out here I can mine it for story purposes. All things are potential for textual integration. . . and really, I'm such a moody bitch so I can't actually keep my self neutral, so I figure I'd better find a way to use it ;)

[desperance.livejournal.com]

I just keep a few texts in progress so if I have a mood out here I can mine it for story purposes.

Hee. A story for every (internal) occasion... "Oh no, I can't be in a temper today! I finished my bad-tempered story last night!" etc

Let me know what you think about Dead of Light - it's sort of a proto-urban fantasy, before the genre had really cohered. "A thriller? With magic? What were you thinking?" Nobody knew whether it was crime or horror or what - but then I got that a lot anyway.