I sit here, hanging fire (old phrase, look it up),waiting on the good/bad news from the editor and feeling my stomach complaining about it all. Writing is difficult; I have now five WIPs all in disarray (except maybe one, I’ll know tomorrow). It is not yet post-partum depression, but maybe a dress run for that, if and when I publish. I have a formatter/designer llined up for when I rework after the editor returns, and the publication date is still September 18, but, hoo-boy, does it all look dicey. My cover artist is waiting for me to tell her the final page count so she can do the spine and all, and I don’t even have a blurb written yet.
So what do I do to cheer me up? I watch the Red Sox which is passing strange since the are trying hard to imitate a cellar dwelling club. An occasional bright moment, like last night when they beat Chris Sale amidst the gloom. They have two more innings after this one to lose this game, and I will watch to the bitter end.
Three of the WIPs take place in Peary’s world. One is an actual sequel, and it’s the one that seems to be moving. Two are the same story with different protagonists. I have discovered this world has griffins. I refuse to call them gryphons. My college mascot is the griffin The funny thing is that the two books take place about twenty-five or thirty years before Ascension of Peary, and the characters from the two are about to show up in the sequel. So I guess the two (and I’m pretty sure which one I’m going to keep) are the origin story for the griffins. It’s too complicated but I guess I’ll start getting it straightened out on September 19.