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Fake Santa

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All this week I have been plowing on through my presentation for my novel. I have a synopsis on one page, a synopsis on 2 pages and even a 3 sentence synopsis. I have reviewed my covering letter, its now on its eighth draft, and to be honest, I don't think I can revise it any further.

I even watched 'because of win dixie' to ensure that my MG fantasy is pretty similar to Kate DiCamilo's work. (A beautiful writer).

In short, I have had a very stressful week getting a portfolio together.

Then, to sodding cap it all, I went to the supermarket today in Nyon, Switzerland, and tripped up on a Christmas tree, it was lying in the path.

'Oi, Santa, you wanna watch where you are leaving the trees', I said, in french to the shop assistant dressed as Santa, smoking a cigarette. He just shrugged his shoulders and looked the other way.

'Vous n'etait pas le bon santa' I said in response to his indiference.

Sometimes this author lark takes out the worst in me.

Has the writing process ever affected your daily routine in any way?
 
I hope you're OK, KG?

Wot a stinging rebuke to le maudit Santa.

He deserves nothing but a placard for Noel, saying Defense de fumer.
 
I've observed that I experience different moods, in the creative writing, editing and querying stages.

While making a new story I'm keen, alert to possibilities and happy with how things are progressing. Ideas come to me unbidden, at unexpected times—even while sleeping.

Editing feels like an eternal round of house cleaning, dusting away at the manuscript and doubting my sanity as I notice mistakes that I've missed twenty times before. I feel like a drudge, and though I know I'm improving things it doesn't feel that way.

Querying literary agents means crawling on broken glass to the tradesmen's' entrance for writers at the back of an agency's ivory tower—to shove my manuscript through their letter box, where it lands on a huge pile of other supplicants' work—all to a deafening wall of silence. I feel wretched and more than a bit angry during this stage, and usually, consider returning to self-publishing. But that would mean becoming a marketing demon, so I resurrect my optimism and write another novel.
 
I suppose it probably has, now I think about it. Sometimes I'm on a writing high, sometimes I'm in a funk, and I'm sure it shows in the other parts of my life. But the other parts of life affect my writing life, too. I have to say that I've been really thankful for a no-nonsense non-fiction book and marketing plan to work on for the last couple of weeks--between the US election and the recent earthquake, my muse has taken to hiding under a rock.
 
I hope you're OK, KG?

Wot a stinging rebuke to le maudit Santa.

He deserves nothing but a placard for Noel, saying Defense de fumer.

With hindsight, I may have been 'caught up in a world of my own' after an intensive editing session, worrying about agents, synopses, etc. But if you are going to dress as Santa, you may as well look the part. Imagine going to Disneyland and seeing all the Mickey Mice chatting up the Minnie Mice with a smoking fags and the Minnie Mice on their Instagram devices. Just not what you expect from a 'Winter wonderland experience'
 

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