sailing the craft
Jul. 2nd, 2010 11:23 amThere is something both sad and liberating about sending off the proofs to a book. Next time I see it, it will belong to the readers, not me.
I keep thinking that there should be something more to write about that, some description of how I feel, some mishnah on what it means to let go of a project, to accept that it has reached a final stage, and will be what it is, not what you had dreamed or hoped or plotted or feared...
But no. It's just... yeah. No longer mine. Soon to be yours. And that's always the point.
And I have new stories to write, now.
(although, dearly beloveds, I could use a month or two off. Maybe in....2012. Yeah, I think I can fit something in then.)
I keep thinking that there should be something more to write about that, some description of how I feel, some mishnah on what it means to let go of a project, to accept that it has reached a final stage, and will be what it is, not what you had dreamed or hoped or plotted or feared...
But no. It's just... yeah. No longer mine. Soon to be yours. And that's always the point.
And I have new stories to write, now.
(although, dearly beloveds, I could use a month or two off. Maybe in....2012. Yeah, I think I can fit something in then.)
no subject
Date: 2010-07-02 05:05 pm (UTC)But one year, he had a panel in the Norwescon art show, and I was very excited for him until someone bought a large, elaborate back and white he'd done called "Blind Tiger." I loved that piece.
When the person came to pick it up, it hit me that the painting was really, really gone, and I would never see it again. I began to understand why most folks sell prints and put NFS on the originals. With our books . . . at least we haven't completely lost them (smiles).