There’s a lot going on in the world right now, here and elsewhere, things I’m upset about or stressed over that I won’t go into, but I’m trying so hard to keep the troubles at bay while I finish up this manuscript—which will magically transform itself into a completed first draft by end of this year (if not a couple days into 2010; I refuse to be disappointed in myself if that happens).
E says I get a present when I complete the first draft, but not before, since it would only be a distraction.
I’ve already given myself this, but it’s not supposed to ship till January 5, so don’t worry it won’t distract me:
(I want you all to know that I have read an earlier form of Some Girls Are by the astounding Courtney Summers and it’s so searing and fearless I love it so much and I must own my own copy. When it arrives, I plan to read it again.)
It’s gotten starred reviews from Kirkus and Publishers Weekly, but I’m giving it my own star because I said so. Go pre-order it right now.
But I think E will get me a first-draft-completion present too—he’s seen how hard I’ve been working. He knows I want this:
Is there ever a point in life when you can read too many Alice Munro stories? I would say no. I used to want to write like her. I now only want to write like myself, but I will continue to read her engrossing stories as I did before because my addiction to short stories abounds, and she’s a master.
I also want this (maybe these, maybe some others):
Because it’s winter and I didn’t get boots last year (because they were all HIDEOUS; yes, fashion industry, your boots were HIDEOUS) and even though it’s possible to avoid most snowbanks in the city by leaping the curbs, my feet did get cold and I think I just need something practical. (Apologies to my baby sister; I refuse to get those ugly stumpy boots everyone says are so warm and comfortable… HIDEOUS.)
But mostly, as a reward for finishing my first draft, I want this:
I want the significant people in my life to like my first draft. Honestly, leave me bootless and bookless all winter and I’ll be OK, just so long as someone was pleased by what I’ve written.
I’m a childish, insecure, fragile writer, what can I say? Please, please like me.
What would be the best first-draft-completion present ever? Give me ideas and I’ll tell E. Please, nothing expensive, so that knocks out Hawaii. Also, please don’t try to convince me to get Uggs. I would wear garbage bags over my sneakers before putting those monstrosities on my feet. I will not be swayed.