I'm getting to a point where I lost the original manuscript, and things are definitely going south for the characters. It is screwing with me less on a mental stage this time around, and a lot of the nastiness is at such a ... wet... level due to the stress at my job. Writing it is as much a relief as it is a foundation, and I'm finding myself enjoying it more this time around. I realize that getting it published is as long a shot as they come, but self-publishing has not been ruled out for it or any of the other manuscripts I have floating about. It will cut out the middleman, and I can negotiate things on my own terms that way. Ideal? No. This manuscript, however, may dictate it. The marriage of sex and violence done in such an unapologetic way may leave even the most jaded publisher a bit cold, I imagine. (And while the manuscript is not porno by any stretch of the imagination, the porno publishers would never touch it in a million years due to the subject matter.)
So where does that leave me? Fired the hell up, that's where. And now, as I get ready to go to the insanity that I find myself consigned to for the time being, I can't help but think that the end result of this manuscript and the drive to make the blogs succeed financially will be beneficial in almost every way possible in the end. Dreams of a mountain compound away from all but whom I want to be around and the knowledge that future is not only seizable but conquerable keep me sane.
Of course, I could be wrong ... but I would never dream of going off course as that is the ultimate kiss of death.
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