I'm going to be honest and admit that it has been painful to see The Time Seekers not get off the ground the way I'd want it to. But . . . I also understand why it didn't, and feel no animosity about the whole deal. Just a slight depression and guilt. It was a hard book to write and maybe it's a hard book to read. My mother loved it, haha. Though she's a tough critic and I do actually take her opinion with high regard. If she liked it and said it was good, then I believe her. Here's what I think happened: the publishing industry is inundated with a gazillion books, and most of them are super high concept, or they have that nice addictive quality that hits a person's 'sweet spot.' The Time Seekers is a quiet, secretive story about a marriage that isn't working, and a friendship that ended too fast, and Time. That kind of stuff doesn't compete well in a fast-paced world. The other explanation is that it sucks. But you know what's funny? I write what I like to read, and I've always loved really obscure books about relationships—the kind of books shoved in the back of a library with dust all over the cover. I can't stand best sellers. They irk me. Maybe I should take a drug for this condition? So. . . there you go.
But I am extremely happy to work on the third book and see it move toward publication. Maybe I can find a little bit of victory here . . . redeem myself. Lordy, lordy, lordy, let's hope it's possible.
So, we had a few awesome days here in Kansas and now it's awful again. I'm listening to Paul Simon and just trying not to be a huge asshole. What are you guys up to?
Life these days.
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