Resignation to Fate

I’ve ceased my crusade to find a new course to enrol in next semester. Ange quite bluntly advised me the other day that a full time course would be a large investment in time, as well as a three year commitment. Of course she was right, but my pride refused to acknowledge that until some heavy introspection today.

One of my options is to go back to work, hopefully negotiating part time hours. It seems that I will pursue my other option first, requiring some significant swallowing of pride.

The upside of this is my renewed determination on finalising and marketing Harbinger. Today I wrote a very healthy 1600 words (including some notes). Not only am I close to finishing this latest Brand chapter, I have an exact idea of the run home. In fact, I know the material so intimately, it’s almost a paragraph by paragraph course I’ve plotted as I slide toward the finish line. Unfortunately I have yet to receive replies to my queries sent to US agents, so I’ll get onto them later this week.

Also Disparate Whispers is floating around in the back of my mind. The Fremantle Arts Centre Press crew are overdue for a response, so I shall also query them soon. Likewise, Robert Stephenson hasn’t sent anything yet for the Alternative Time anthology I am assisting him with, so a query email will be sent in that direction too.

It seems the life of a writer is chasing your tail. Actually, it’s like releasing a thousand butterflies and then waiting for them all to be retrieved by a handful of men with tiny nets. Or some other obscure similie…

Oh yeah, I finally heard from Damien by email today. It’s good to know he’s still alive. Coincidentally, I received his birthday present today – a very cool looking Pinhead (from Clive Barker’s Hellraiser) figurine. It is hand painted, with an enlarged ceramic head that wobbles (set on a spring – one of those ‘bob head’ things). It even has real pins! How cool is that? It now resides on my writing/computer desk, next to the celtic skull/stationary holder and skeleton-covered coffin that Mum gave me, as well as the evil looking hand and hear/see/speak no evil frogs I bought from Thailand. Yeah, I’m a horror writer all right. It shows.

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