Marissa Lingen (mrissa) wrote,
Marissa Lingen
mrissa

"I can do that no problem; I can do that here, but it'll take tools, and it'll take time."

Not that long ago, someone on the friendslist was saying she didn't feel she was allowed to hope about her book. (I think it was a locked entry, or I would say who. It may not be, though.) I am in an extremely eccentric orbit that way. Perigee: This is the best book I've ever written, and someone really ought to want it, because it's good and also weird, so if I can just get it out.... Apogee: It's not that great, and anyway it doesn't matter how good it is if it doesn't hit the right editor the right way on the right day, so do not get your hopes up, Miss, because you have written the best book of your life to date before, and has it landed a contract on your desk? It has not.

Mostly I am not in danger of falling into the sun or out into the cold of interstellar space with mostly hydrogen and a passing acetic acid molecule or two to keep me company*. Mostly I recognize that the goal is to continue to write the best book of my life with each book I write for the rest of my life, and also that this may not be a realizable goal and that there does not need to be (surprise!) a total ordering. (You knew I had to work total orderings in somewhere, didn't you?) Mostly I recognize that the steps are: write the book, revise the book, submit the book, write the next book.

Sometimes it's really hard not to get excited, though, and I am excited again, in the middle of this revision pass: markgritter sat down with me to talk about computer architecture, so I can improve that considerably in a matter of a few words every few chapters, and I have notes from myself, notes from my alpha readers, notes and notes and notes, scattered around my desk. You know the scene that introduces Jordan in "Real Genius"? Yah. That. That's where my brain lives right now. (What do you mean you've never seen "Real Genius"? Go, go, see it!) Except in my world, everyone seems to be showing up for the mutant hamster races, and there are lots and lots of entries in the Mme. Curie look-alike contest, even though many of them will still be disqualified later.

I would love porphyrin even if she hadn't done this, but she wrote, "I want a story about this!" by all the spots where I already have stories started about that, and it makes me happy and excited and ready to do more more more. (Also she wrote it by the "magical walruses in the Yukon" line, so I'm not sure I'll be able to oblige her across the board. I know my writerbrain too well to declare definitively that I won't be writing a magical walruses in the Yukon story, though, because that kind of declaration is what got me into this mess in the first place.)

In other news, I have fallen madly in love with my blueberry soup (blueberries! and cardamom! and wine! and mango! and it is so pretty!), and I'm actually looking forward to getting my wisdom teeth out tomorrow so that this part of things is done. Crazy? Possibly. But still. I'm ready.

*Yes, really. Acetic acid in interstellar clouds. I love this universe. It's the best universe I've ever lived in.
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