As I said previously, the files for DEATH BY BASEBALL got switcharooed somehow and I went back to the rough draft stage. Well, I am sick of this book.
Do you ever get that way, sick of the book you put many hours and days into? I do. I get sick of every single book I write. Long about in the middle of the book I think it’s trash and it’s time to trash the whole thing. Right after I write the closing scene and step back, I say how trite it is. Time to junk it. The thing sits in my computer’s memory for at least a month before I can look at it again. By that time, I get to reading and sit back in awe at the manuscript I produced. It surely is not a Hemingway, but then I don’t like Hemingway – except for OLD MAN AND THE SEA.
Now my Beta readers are putting their hearts into the manuscript again. I am on my fourth read in two weeks. The story is dumb. The cover sucks. The ending is too obvious. The middle is boring.
So, yesterday I got down one of my favorite books full of short stories. I have just read this book a dozen times and once was three weeks ago. Guess what? The stories were dumb. The cover sucks. The endings are to obvious. The middle of these short stories are boring.
Back to DEATH BY BASEBALL.