Tag: writing profession

Lettin’ It Ride

I recently sold and was paid for my first two fiction sales.  This has been a lovely thing, validating and warming and, sure, money is a nice thing to have.  I’ve been wondering one thing, though.

What do I do with the money?

I could go frivol it.  I could have a great, knock-out binge at the book store or pub.  I could buy an elegant antique tea cup and eat it.  Somehow, though, those things seemed inappropriate.  If I were a business owner, I would take the proceeds of my business and roll them back into the business.  How do I do that with the writing — buy groceries?

Let me introduce you to Jarvis, a MSI Wind Notebook computer.  He can do everything that GoGo (my laptop) can do, but weighs in at about a quarter of the mass.  He is as portable and sturdy as Neo (my Alphasmart), but has a full-screen display, letting me see more than six lines … besides which, Neo has developed a warp that takes away his space bar sometimes.

Jarvis cost just a tad bit more than I grossed on the two stories.  His battery capacity is around 2.5 hours, which makes him a good companion for the Max ride to and fro, plus a bit of writing at lunch.

I was a bit worried about the size of his keyboard, but I’ve been typing this entry on him and haven’t had any issues. 

Perfect.  

Now, if you’ll all excuse me, Jarvis and I have a novel to write.

Crossposted from Epinephrine & Sophistry

I am dot-commed

I have purchased RScottShanksJr.com. I am going to give myself rewards relating to it; write and post a basic web-page placeholder, write and work on my Hero’s Rosary webpage, write and … you get it.

Professional (in progress) authors have web pages, after all, and I’m the sort of author who has things out for submission and stuff. Better get a web page up so people can go gawk at the sorts of things professional authors put on the web.

Crossposted from Epinepherine & Sophistry

Submission

No, not that kind. Freaks.

At the behest of Lisa, who knows all things, I have just submitted Sight Unseen (1,300 words of psych. horror) for professional consideration. And, in a professional sort of way, I documented where and when I submitted it, because we professionals are all about documentation.

And now, bed.

Crossposted from Epinephrine & Sophistry

The weekend

I have just spent a weekend of romance, just me and fifty women. I was the only man.

Yes, I was awake. Yes, this really happened.

I attended this, at the behest of my mentor, Lisa. She told me I had desperate need to go to this, to take part, to absorb it all, and she was right. I’ve been unable to revise my completed first drafts (the problems are too HUGE — and I didn’t know what they were, just that they were HUGE), only able to go and create another first draft…and the most recent one was going all drifty, just as the other two had. No clue how to stop it from following them on their rambling, unexciting ways.

And now I have. Debra Dixon is my hero. Lisa is up there, too, for dragging me to the workshop. And Shannon, for enduring a weekend of solitary confinement while I was off gallivanting with 50 strange women.

I go now, to eat and create the GMC and storyboard that will make my first drafts mutate into second drafts.

Dare I envision a final draft? I dare.

Crossposted from Epinephrine & Sophistry