(I warn you. This is a bragging “I” piece. For those looking for literary excellence. It ain’t in this post. There is some fabulous writing on WordPress but is not this one. Sorry. )

Hello, again. I have not fallen off the planet but I have been buried under an avalanche of life. Just life. Seems my plate has not been large enough for all the things I am doing right now.

It is necessary to tell you that I am, and always have been, a “spurt” worker. I wander around doing other things until I sit down and suddenly start to write or weave or memorize music. The issue becomes a bit unmanageable when I want to write/weave/sing at the same time. It is somewhat easier if I have already memorized the music and then I can weave in time to whatever I am singing. But joining either weaving or singing with writing does NOT work. The weaving and writing together was rather physically impossible.

Well, there were weaving projects that HAD to get done ’cause people paid for them. (I know, people actually paid me to weave something! That is astounding enough!) So I wove for a few days. Worrying all the time about my music and my writing.

 

Then there was that pesky little  Vocal Arts concert in which I was the narrator, among other things. The other things included singing and playing costumer. It was great fun but HELL week was, well, Hell week. We sang six nights out of seven. By the time I returned home at night I was lucky to find the bed before I fell asleep. Couldn’t write or weave.

Then, it turned out that I could go to the Commemoration ceremony of the monument to Edward Bransfield, in Ireland, in January of 2020. I get to be there when the Edward Bransfield Commemorative Tartan scarf is handed to a direct descendant of the man who discovered Antarctica! So I began working on a plan to make that happen.

At that point the Universe said, “AHEM! You have a book to write. It has been rolling around in your brain and it must be released from bondage.”

I don’t outline, I spurt write. It comes in hunks and sections and itty-bitty pieces. When I wrote as an attorney is was a series of Post-It notes all over my office. Sometimes they went into a file but mostly they were just hanging around making a mess. Sometimes I would attach one to another by string. It really looked like a scriptwriters dream!

I didn’t want to change my methods but I didn’t want the dogs eating my work. (Gracie has an addiction to paper, we think.) So I went on-line and found a writing program that I could operate without too much consternation and blue air.

I had the good fortune of meeting an agent at the Central Coast Writer’s Conference who listened to me pitch my book idea. She handed me her card and said, “I want to see the first 50 pages.”

After the weaving and the singing and the new writing program I got an amazing spurt of work. I don’t know how many hours I spent, but in just 3 days I had those 50 pages. I was astounded and thrilled and unable to walk much as my disagreeable hip did not like sitting for long stretches and I ignored her. She was not happy.

But I couldn’t send a first draft to an agent. Are you NUTS?! It has to have some polish somewhere. That requires an editor. I know they abound but where do I find one I trust?

Where else but the CCWC brochures! I had picked up information from every vendor. I even spoke to a couple. So I reached out to one who advised me that editors do NOT do partial edits. They do books.

THEN, (I know this is getting boring but I gotta scream!) I was referred to an editor who WOULD do 50 pages! Really! Good creds and all that.

I then contacted the agent, just to remind her of our long-ago conversation. She replied “I wondered where you went to.”

Well, there was weaving and singing and the dogs and the spouse and the kid and the house. But as soon as my (that’s right–MY) editor is done and I correct and reprogram and rewrite and ponder and weave and sing, you will have it.

I need a bigger plate.