The Agony

For my funeral, I want the classic New Orlean’s Jazz package please.  I want my coffin in a horse drawn carriage led by jazz musicians.  Following behind, I want weeping mourners all dressed in black with veils and everything.  At the grave site, I expect there to be old women wailing and moaning, and I really like at least one of them to fling themselves on my casket.  If you have to pay for this effect, please do so.  It’s important to me.  One last request, please tuck a couple of good books in the casket with me.  Make it at least two – there might be a long wait and I’m a fast reader.

Why am I mentioning this now?  No, I haven’t had any disturbing news from a doctor or anything like that.  It has become the Sister’s goal to whip my first novel into shape – AGAIN.  It’s been a year and 1/2 since I finished it – the first time – and we’ve learned so much since then that we can see big flaws and plot holes, etc that need to be fixed.  I have a plan for obtaining an agent/editor so while we wait impatiently for the mechinations to fall into place, now is the time for the It’s Clearly Love overhaul.  We’ve given ourselves 2 months tops.

Here’s the thing. It’s killing me.  Ava is brutal.  I know she’s taken a chain saw to the book with love and its best interest at heart, but still, it’s excruciating and I want to throwup.  I once read that your book is like a child: you feed it and nourish it and take good care of it, watch it grow and when it’s all done you have to kill it.  Not that I’m advocating killing children, but you see the point right?  She’s killing my baby!  I know I’m over reacting but, regardless, I’m freaking out.

I need a shot of something stiff and a deep cleansing breath…….if you need me, I’ll be sucking my thumb in the fetal position over there.