Keri Culver

I am shaking like a leaf… I don’t know if that’s good or bad. Since my last post I’ve worked very sporadically on my book. If I had to guess, I’d say I was chickenshit about getting more rejections, so I’ve worked but without direction, without deadlines, without goals.
I’m back. I started another round of edits a month ago and have been working steadily if sporadically on them. I found a big problem in the book that had to do with its timeline, so I’m going through and finding those flow errors.
But above and beyond any mechanical activity I can do, I suddenly have momentum again. Motivation. I talked with a professional consultant who works with people to bridge the gap from writing a book to getting it published. (Thanks, Christine Simpson Sachs, for the introduction!)
In my real life, the one where I can’t fall asleep, or smoke too much, or watch TV instead of tackling the list of things I’ve set for myself, I have had motivation issues. There are any number of encumbrances that serve as perfect pretexts to avoid bookwork: I am, genuinely, busy at work. Ramon is here from Spain. Elena made a fish dinner. I’m traveling for field data collection. WhatEVer.
I won’t say that I won’t be watching TV tonight, with Ramon, eating fish, and not working on my book. But I will say I am FIRED UP about the path I’m on again, the one that leads to finishing this book with a flourish. Fame, fortune, movie options. Maybe it’s unrealistic to think I can get my book in front of the eyes of a Big Six Publisher or, even more remote, a Hollywood producer that wants a fresh idea for a series. BUT TO HELL WITH REALISTIC. If all it gets me is small, local dreams, what good is realism? I swear, I feel the same feeling right now that I feel being in love. Except I’m in love with me, with my book, with Nathalie (the main character), with the dreams I have about being a real author who makes people laugh and turn pages like there’s no tomorrow.
So realism can eat my shorts.