Ninth Grade Sucks
Now that I've sent off the final Wonderland outline to my fabulous agent for his thoughts, I'm taking a Dillon break and spending some time with Vlad, brushing up the completed first draft of Ninth Grade Sucks. When I initially read it over, I cried. It was awful. But now that I'm keyboard-deep into it, it's really not so bad. I really don't think it'll be long before I'm mailing off the second draft to me amazing Crit Partner and fantastic readers. Of course, I'm having an optimistic day...things may change.
Last night I had a very bizarre dream. I dreamt that Vlad showed up at my door in the middle of the night. He said he didn't want to drag me into this, but he had nowhere else to turn. Then the big baddie from Eighth Grade Bites shows up and threatens to hurt my family if I don't hand Vlad over. Well, I explain to him that I CREATED him, so he can't boss me around. It didn't work though...and man, was it scary.
I think I'm spending too much time with my characters.
Maybe next time I'm out, I should pick up a life.
Last night I had a very bizarre dream. I dreamt that Vlad showed up at my door in the middle of the night. He said he didn't want to drag me into this, but he had nowhere else to turn. Then the big baddie from Eighth Grade Bites shows up and threatens to hurt my family if I don't hand Vlad over. Well, I explain to him that I CREATED him, so he can't boss me around. It didn't work though...and man, was it scary.
I think I'm spending too much time with my characters.
Maybe next time I'm out, I should pick up a life.
posted by Heather Brewer at 8:44 AM
5 Comments:
Ha! You created him so he can't boss you around. Well, dearest, you have children, don't you? Did that line work on them every time you told them to eat their vegetables, clean their rooms, do their homework or go to bed?
But then, you hold the purse strings for the little offspring-minions and the keyboard to Vlad's continued existence.
C.
Oops! I meant the Baddie. Of course Vlad is going to continue to live. He's a vampire.
C.
C, you crack me up. :)
Heh. This reminds me of something my son told me. (He's four years old.) He had a dream, which he was telling me about. He said there were friends, and family, and dogs. And it was a good dream. And there were monsters, which weren't good. So he had to punch the monsters' heads off.
Knock the Bad Guy's head off, Heather, and tell him to get his own damn dream. :-*
Ah, see, there was my mistake. Next time, I'm punching his head off :D
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