On Sunday, the Philadelphia Inquirer published a very nice review of Eight Survived. I'll try to post it here. Wish me luck!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
I am waiting.
I'm waiting for an email that tells me what to do next with the youth novel.
I'm wating for the return of another email so that I can call a certain editor and talk with him about a project.
I'm waiting to assemble a proposal for that project, waiting because I haven't had that phone conversation.
I'm waiting, but I don't have to be idle. There are at least a half dozen stories I could start.
Instead, I visit internet sites, read the news, bang on the piano, talk to Zippy, the cat.
I confess that this is nothing new. The impending has always thwarted the fresh and new. I seem incapable of stepping on the kick-starter because another engine is running some place, and I can't have two of them working simultaneously.
So tomorrow, I'll probably drive to Robin and see how's she's fared during the recent wind storms and assess the work that needs to be done inside her frigid cabins. If I had a bit of carpentry waiting to be done, I'd be doing it. But the only such projects are boat work, and it's still too cold for that. So I'll visit dear Robin instead, talk with her a bit and then return here to my desk in the loft ... And wait.
I'm waiting for an email that tells me what to do next with the youth novel.
I'm wating for the return of another email so that I can call a certain editor and talk with him about a project.
I'm waiting to assemble a proposal for that project, waiting because I haven't had that phone conversation.
I'm waiting, but I don't have to be idle. There are at least a half dozen stories I could start.
Instead, I visit internet sites, read the news, bang on the piano, talk to Zippy, the cat.
I confess that this is nothing new. The impending has always thwarted the fresh and new. I seem incapable of stepping on the kick-starter because another engine is running some place, and I can't have two of them working simultaneously.
So tomorrow, I'll probably drive to Robin and see how's she's fared during the recent wind storms and assess the work that needs to be done inside her frigid cabins. If I had a bit of carpentry waiting to be done, I'd be doing it. But the only such projects are boat work, and it's still too cold for that. So I'll visit dear Robin instead, talk with her a bit and then return here to my desk in the loft ... And wait.
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