Evening With A Friend
Last night
Jeff Shelby came to town, to the
Tattered Cover to sign the second Noah Braddock mystery,
Wicked Break. Jeff is a good writer who Mario and I miss a lot. He was part of our critique group before life and his wife's promotion took him to Dallas. He reminded me of the vagaries of the writing life. He's negotiating a new contract and the uncertainty of having no control over your career is scary. You work so damned hard as a writer to get an agent, get a contract, make a name for yourself. And yet, you have no control. Not really. Makes me wonder why anyone wants to be a writer.
Just finished the first draft of the third in the Anna Strong series. It's with the remaining members of the aforementioned writers group. For twenty-four hours I wandered around the house wondering what to do with myself. The book was finished. I couldn't start editing until I got comments back. I wrote a short synopsis for books four and five to send my agent, but I really missed the daily communion I had with Anna. I realized I LIKE spending time with her. She constantly surprises me, delights me, shocks me, challenges me. She's strong, smart, brave, loyal. All the things I wish I was. Okay, she's a vampire. She's not perfect. But who is?
I realize something in writing that last paragraph. I know why I want to be a writer. I want to spend time with characters I like. In real life, you don't always get to do that.
Watched the
Stephen King mini-series. I loved the first episode. William Hurt is such a good actor. I wonder how long it took him to memorize his lines? Extra added bonus--shown commercial free. How great is that?