bittersweet musings
Apr. 18th, 2005 11:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thehefnerNew Eugene Levy "Mighty Wind" icon. Because there's never a bad time for Mitch.
The final draft of the novel was turned in today. The Humanities thesis is OVER. Hot damn! I wrote to a novelist friend and informed him of the good news. His response: "Happy to introduce you to my agent if you'd like. But first, write the best, short, concise, short, short, concise, short cover letter you can. Tease them, pal. It's all marketing with this (sadly)."
My worst fears have come true, to summarize my 330 page tome in two-three sentences. Here's the first one I have so far: "Sam Bluestone is a naïve aspiring novelist who joins the local police department for story research. He unwittingly finds himself made a pawn in a conspiracy that is plotting to reignite a bloody and century-old gang war within the city. And one of the chief conspirators is his estranged childhood best friend." Shit, it's rough. How I long for the day when I can pay somebody to do this for me.
I still have 30-something pages of Cherry Orchard thesis to write. Told 'em I'd have it done by tomorrow, but fat chance. Also, have to memorize two Macbeth scenes for Thursday. Don't ask. And if I can, I want to write a few more pages of script for the Tammy play. It's been going over really well with the class so far; I've just to make sure it stays good and doesn't become self-indulgent. So you see, I have plenty of work ahead of me tonight and this week.
But for now, I'm just gonna relax for a few minutes. I'm feeling reflective, a little sad, and rather bittersweet. Those old feelings... meet the new feelings, same as the old feelings. Sigh. Sometimes I wonder why I don't write more long angst-ridden posts behind lj cut tags. Maybe I'm just not trying to advertise my feelings as much as I used to. It's hard being an open book. Having no skin, much less a thin one. Being sensitive, beyond the negative connotations of the label.
But hey, at least I'm not Mitch. I can take comfort in that.
The final draft of the novel was turned in today. The Humanities thesis is OVER. Hot damn! I wrote to a novelist friend and informed him of the good news. His response: "Happy to introduce you to my agent if you'd like. But first, write the best, short, concise, short, short, concise, short cover letter you can. Tease them, pal. It's all marketing with this (sadly)."
My worst fears have come true, to summarize my 330 page tome in two-three sentences. Here's the first one I have so far: "Sam Bluestone is a naïve aspiring novelist who joins the local police department for story research. He unwittingly finds himself made a pawn in a conspiracy that is plotting to reignite a bloody and century-old gang war within the city. And one of the chief conspirators is his estranged childhood best friend." Shit, it's rough. How I long for the day when I can pay somebody to do this for me.
I still have 30-something pages of Cherry Orchard thesis to write. Told 'em I'd have it done by tomorrow, but fat chance. Also, have to memorize two Macbeth scenes for Thursday. Don't ask. And if I can, I want to write a few more pages of script for the Tammy play. It's been going over really well with the class so far; I've just to make sure it stays good and doesn't become self-indulgent. So you see, I have plenty of work ahead of me tonight and this week.
But for now, I'm just gonna relax for a few minutes. I'm feeling reflective, a little sad, and rather bittersweet. Those old feelings... meet the new feelings, same as the old feelings. Sigh. Sometimes I wonder why I don't write more long angst-ridden posts behind lj cut tags. Maybe I'm just not trying to advertise my feelings as much as I used to. It's hard being an open book. Having no skin, much less a thin one. Being sensitive, beyond the negative connotations of the label.
But hey, at least I'm not Mitch. I can take comfort in that.
