Yesterday evening, I spent a long time on a long blog post and then saw the message that I wasn't connected and couldn't save. Couldn't copy, couldn't print--lost the whole damn post which was a lament about my book in print and how sad and get out the violins and pour the 100 proof booze and let's all cry in our drinks about the fate of books and authors and bad luck. You get the idea. I had really bared my soul, never a good idea, and now I'm kinda glad the post was lost.
I read my book and was struck by how lively it was and all the good detail and plot turns and how had I ever managed to pull that off and why hadn't a major publisher ever taken it. Still don't know. Move on. Move on. Now I am unhappy with Festival Madness which seems kind of pedestrian next to The Shadow Warriors. The thing with TSW was that I didn't know where the plot was going from one minute to the next so I surprised myself with all the twists and turns and surprises. For Festival Madness I always had a plot and a synopsis and knew who the characters were and who the killer was and all that stuff from day one and so it has been kind of a slog to get from beginning to end and maybe that isn't a good thing. Of course I didn't plan to be writing about Ultralights and small planes and the Adirondacks, but the plot seems more pedestrian and less twisty. Hmmmm.
I worked and reworked and slaved, no other word, for years on The Shadow Warriors, and it shows. The characters are really cool and the settings, all the detail takes you to Singapore, Hong Kong, Cambridge, MA, Germany, and so forth. Hadn't realized how the hard work to take the reader there had paid off. I must have been reading Story or something. Don't think it was the critique group who didn't particularly like the story. Well, whatcha gonna do?
Work harder on Festival Madness which isn't even finished yet, and yet again and always suck it up.