I know blogging has been light here lately. I’m revising a novel—the middle-grade that’s coming out from McElderry next year—and still working on the YA for Knopf, and now, joy of joys, bits and pieces of art are starting to come in for certain other projects (I can’t wait until I’m allowed to share peeks at stuff, but it won’t be for a while yet), and in short this is just a busy busy busy time.
But VERY SOON the novel will go back to my editor, and I will breathe a huge, liberated breath, and I might even start reading books again.*
I can’t read novels when I’m deep in a revision. Can’t get anyone else’s story mixed up in my brain. Which means it was TERRIBLY FOOLISH of me to read a third of the way into Connie Willis’s Blackout right before my manuscript was due to arrive with my editor’s notes. That is not a book to leave lingering for weeks on end.**
*That was a joke. I’m on a Cybils panel—of COURSE I’ll be reading books. Graphic novels. Delicious. I’m salivating already, and compiling my list…
**Which means Blackout will be back-burnered even longer. WHAT WAS I THINKING??
Yes, I Am Delusional
Reading, ’Riting, Rambling (Our 3 Rs?)
Philo! Philo! Philomathian!
Commonplace Book: Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s Poetry As Insurgent Art