To Boldly Go

I hired a freelance editor for my novel yesterday. That seems to make this whole project more real. Yikes.

As I've said before, my novel is called "Weight" and it's about a 475-pound astronaut, but I'm not going to tell you people any more than that. For one thing, it's not that I don't trust you people, it's that I don't trust that guy sitting next to you. For another, if I tell you about it, you won't go buy a copy. I'm not in this business for my health, you know!


I've been a wannabe writer since elementary school, but this is the first time I've completed even a first draft of a novel. The prospect of getting it into some kind of professional shape exhilarates and scares me, and that's before we've decided what sort of profession we're talking about.


A public thank-you to my writing teacher for referring me to this editor, along with a set of gold-plated steak knives and a gift certificate to the nearest White Castle (which is probably at least 2,000 miles away, but never mind).

Benshlomo says, I need a Maxwell Perkins.