Since I last wrote, I finished the novel and sent it to Shannon. That was in November 2011. She came back with encouraging words and the task of removing 100 pages! So here I am, plugging alone with that and was doing okay, up until April. Then a few things happened: first, I'm renovating my loft and after about 2 years doing that, light appeared at the end of the long tunnel! The job was nearly done and encouraged by that, I devoted all my time to that -with real measurable results. It looks amazing!
This also meant my writing has suffered and I began to wonder about my novel. A year goes by so quick and unlike my renovations, what tangible result do I have? An unfinished novel with no apparent end in sight; just more editing and rewrites. Bleak thoughts. I have so many things to do; my life is busy. I know I shouldn't give up but, gods, after all this time and work, my chances of being published are so low. sure, one must never give up but I am getting one year older every time my editor sends it back for more work. Even if everything goes well, I'll be 50 in a few years...
I don't know.
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