I’ve spent the last five months stuck in a virtual slush pile. It’s a fairly depressing place to be. My husband is constantly cheering me on saying, “Don’t give up! That email is coming.” And although his words offer a momentary comfort, I would like to publicly state that I am not even close to giving up. In fact, it would be an injustice to do such a vile crime, and here’s why. I have two completed novels (pat on the back, thank you very much) and seven other novels in the works, plus a MG book that I am writing for my daughter. If I threw in the towel now then think about the unresolved conflicts that I am leaving just hanging in a virtual vortex. How cruel would I be to my characters then? I’d have a demon holding a sword to the angel she’s in love with, a vampire salivating in hunger for a little girl, a man haunted by flashbacks of his past lives, a woman watching her lover hang for a murder that she in fact committed and a child nursing a mermaid back to health. Madness, I know. That’s what it’s like in my head. I have these stories filed away in separate compartments, my brain is my own personal library. Whenever I feel the need to escape, I pull out a file and see how I can save someone today… or ruin them, depending on my mood.
The point is, I’ve invested too many words, emotions, and hours to give up. I don’t think I ever will.
That’s my life in the virtual slush pile.