I'm reading "Winter Sea" for review, and all I can think right now is about my own novel and how I haven't gotten very fair with draft 5.
My ending still sucks and my one lead male is missing an element that's driving me batty-coata.
It's turning into one of those days. I've been doubting my own ability the last few weeks and if writing is really what I should be doing.
It's coming rapidly on the two year mark that I've been working on this novel. Two years! I've never put so much energy into a novel before. I've never had characters that meant so much to me before either. It's like I just know this is the novel that will finally get printed.
The other two finished manuscripts were written back in 1998 and 2003. Neither of which took me longer then three months to write and neither of which got more then two drafts. Just so easy to write, so easy to smoothly create the characters and their lives. Neither of which I ever bothered to even consider being good enough to show anyone.
This one, I've been trying to get an editor for; for the entire time I've been writing it. I've had two people start to edit it for me and one did nothing but take my money, the other found my work offensive. I've had three people say they would work on the cover art and I still have nothing in that regards.
Too many brick walls are hitting me and you know, I'm just ready to quit everything.
This is not the life I wanted.