Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Tuesdays on Writing - letting go of the children

Gwen's here - in her proper spot after far too long - trip to Swaziland and deadlines for her - sister visit for me - and we're going to write. I went yesterday to meet with the woman who is doing my editing for me and we spent 3 hours (!) on the one-page synopsis. I don't know where I am with it but it is my task for the day. If I could just get one query package out I would be content. Okay, that's a lie. I would be somewhat more content - a hair less anxious - a molecule towards feeling my usual equanimity.
My car is at the garage. It died on Saturday. It is Tuesday. My computer keeps popping off and it is snowing. So just a little control in my life would be excellent.
Maybe I'm frightened of the open-ended script after I get my query packages out. This is the child that I've been holding on to. All the rest I was happy to get done and dusted - but True I laboured longer and harder over. I have great expectations for True and I may fear I will be swallowed by anxiety and rejection over it. Better it should stay at home in my pristine mind than dare the elements - the cruel elements of the publishing world.
Ah, well.
This is not like me, I hasten to add. Even my live flesh-and-blood children left home early with me cheering them on. I am the opposite of the modern mother who phones the dean of her child's university to make sure he knows that her darling gets a little blue around the late fall and needs extra loving then. Not me. I was happy when my plays were done and performed and the stage swept clean. I never got the blues over finishing anything before. I sent things out too early, raw and not ready for the world. Maybe that is why I've swung the other way.
Enough of this. I'm going to get to work now. Gwen has already started only I slide my eyes over to her computer and see that she is answering emails so perhaps...?
How about you and letting go of manuscripts? Are you good at that or do you tarry with it far too long in the doorway, straightening its little sweater, tucking strands of errant hair behind its ears?

7 comments:

Margot Kinberg said...

Jan - Letting go is such an interesting process, whether it's letting go of one's flesh-and-blood children or one's darling manuscript. But I think it really does clear one's mind to be able to do so. Do I let go? I try to. Can't say I'm perfect at it but in general I'm pretty good. Once something's posted, it's posted. And I find the best antidote to fretting over a manuscript that has "left home" is...starting a new one.

Oh, and want to know what's interesting? In my WIP, there's a character who is the child of what we in the education biz in the States call "Helicopter Parents." The kind who accompany their children to the professor's office...

Hart Johnson said...

So glad you are back to writing. And HOLY COW on 3 hours of work on a synopsis. Gads, I hate those things. Good luck pulling your packages together! Sorry about your car and sketchy computer!

As for True--let her fly, my friend!

niamh said...

I was fine with my last one, couldnt wait! Rushed it into a synopisis before I even knew where the body was buried:) This one is more wrenching because it holds more of me. (But dont tell anyone!)
Maybe for you this is 'the one', that may account for your feelings?
Agree with Margot - starting a new one works a treat (not with the children though!)

niamh said...

I was fine with my last one, couldnt wait! Rushed it into a synopisis before I even knew where the body was buried:) This one is more wrenching because it holds more of me. (But dont tell anyone!)
Maybe for you this is 'the one', that may account for your feelings?
Agree with Margot - starting a new one works a treat (not with the children though!)

Anonymous said...

sorry for doubling up!

Liza said...

Oh...I'll be putting an extra winter coat on the thing and buying it new boots. Eventually though, years later than scheduled, I'll send it out.

Gee, I wish I was going to Florida...

Rosalind Adam said...

I can't believe that it's snowing there. It's warm and sunny in Leicester UK for a change.

I'm afraid I tuck shirts in and lick the corner of my hankie to wipe smuts from the corners of my manuscripts' eyes just as I did (and still do) with my kids who are no longer kids. I just can't let go but it's because I care so that makes it all right, right?