I have a ledge. My Charli ledge. It is where I go in those moments of panic, self doubt, uncertainty, anger, frustration, did I mention panic? My poor critique partners, the ones who were with me throughout my first WIP, the whole year, know this place very well. I have even seen a few of them from time to time out there. I am considering renting space out.
Tis a very nice ledge.
I was there yesterday. Pacing, stewing. I think my MS is too long and may have a hard time getting published. So I was thinking of making this first story, the second in the trilogy. But that would mean actually writing the first, then revising BGA again, taking out what I managed to put in the new one. I am rambling here people and to be quite honest, I am typing from the ledge. I didn’t even notice when I get transported there. I just look up from my keys, and there I am.
I will be here for a while as I am on the query super highway. Wondering if I jumped the gun sending them out. What is killing me is that my gut feeling is to make BGA the second in the series, the same instinct that had me changing plot after plot.
We all have our ledges. Open up your window to yours, peek out and say hello. I will probably still be sitting there, talking to myself. But last I checked in, AJ was out there with me.
Cost of joining me on the ledge, a cyber hug or kick in the ass when needed.
Signing out but still on the ledge.