Writer’s freakout

Today is the First Day back at the keyboard after finishing the rough draft of the book on divorce and Wicca. I’m going to change the title to something catchy and borderline offensive, like “Divorcing a Real Witch.” I need to give this work the best chance that I can give it, after all, and if that means a less-than-appealing appeal, so be it. Titles are tough for me. Although I’ve noticed that the titles that draw the most attention actually are cliche’ driven.

I knew the mini-crisis I’m sitting in is brought on by the whole momentousness of finishing a first draft and thinking, “OK…now what?” I also realize that completing an entire first draft is not what a publisher or agent might want me to do. I fully expect to rewrite all of the book in any case, so having that draft on hand makes life just a little easier for me.

Now I’m attempting to gather my wits for creating a book proposal. I’ve written outlines before, sure, and in the 90s I sent out a few book proposals. All but one got some genuine interest, and then I promptly chickened out. At that time I needed someone who had been there to talk me through it, but at the time those people just weren’t around. Those that were qualified to offer such advice wrote for academic fields and were usually just as uncomfortable with my writing for the commercial market as they were with me writing about witchcraft. Because of the obvious discomfort, I chose not to go to them with these project success/failure points. I guess I wasn’t a great mentee.

As it is, I suspected myself of stalling work this morning when I suddenly felt the need to cook myself up a huge breakfast, linger over my morning pages, and then I did what I never do… I checked my phone before 3 pm.

Lo and behold, some friends needed a babysitter now. So I opted for a day that ended with me bribing a three year old to pull a wagon while I carried his easily motion-sick brother the rest of the way home. ((Child handled motion sickness by gradually tipping over in the wagon until he rested on his head. I am so not cut out to be a mother. His brother recognized the situation and took advantage of it, with an actual “I won’t pull the wagon unless there’s something in it for me.” Little bastard.)) So my morning time went, and I’m blogging now. While I am looking up how to do book proposals, mostly I’m just getting some panic noises in the front of my brain.