Thursday, September 16, 2010

Why I don't ask my husband to help me write!

I love him.
I really do, but sometimes I just shouldn't ask him about my writing.

It's like asking my cat not to hold a grudge.
I can ask but chances are I'm getting the fuzzy cat butt end in my face for days.

Here's what happened...
Me: "Honey, I'm having some trouble with my plot."
Him: "What seems to be the trouble?"
Me: "Well, I've got my characters over here but they need to be over there. If I don't get them over there then this will never happen and if this never happens then the story won't work."
Him: "This show sucks. I'm changing the channel."
Me: "But I need some help!"
Him: "You need something."


So, although he did sort of help me by letting me know that my story sucked, he didn't help me come up with an idea to fix it.


That came yesterday morning. And I re-wrote the entire section.


Then this morning at 4:00 am I came up with a whole new idea. A better idea.


Drastic edits occurred again today but I think they were for the best. Now I will just have to tie it all back together. But I think I got the characters finally where they need to be.


Almost in bed!


In other news:
I received my thanks but no thanks email back from the agent that requested my synopsis and first 50 pages.
'Not right for us at this time.'
'Don't give up!'


What's that line...It's great just to be nominated!

I was glad they gave me a chance. Hopefully it will catch on.
 

5 comments:

  1. Loved this post! When I ask my man for help, he totally rewrites my story and everyone usually dies in a bloody massacre. His imagination thrives on the dystopic. He doesn't get the HEA.

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  2. My husband writes, too, but completely different genre and voice. He can tell me if it's crap, but not much feedback beyond that. I need more writerly friends who are into my genre to test out whether I'm on the right track.

    Congrats on getting the requests, even though it still stings when they don't pan out. The more you get, the better your chances ;)

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  3. L.A. - My husband still thinks I'm writing about heaving bosoms. Well, I am, but we don't call them that anymore.
    If someone isn't wearing a WWII helmet, he probably wouldn't be interested.

    Angela - I hadn't thought of that. The more, the better. That has a nice ring to it.

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  4. the perfect agent will come at the right time (in my best mummy voice).
    That said I had to get a critique partner for the very same reason my husband is into academic journals and math

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  5. Men. Can't live with them. Can't leave them on the curb when we are through with them.

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