Yes, there's definitely a post-librum collapse in spirits. Last night I felt so liberated and happy - I really felt TRF was IT - that nothing significant could be added, and this morning I cheerfully sent it off to The Agent - the sun was shining and I felt full of oojah-cum-spiff... Now, an hour or so later, it is raining, I feel a bit glum - despite some innocent fun on Facebook.
Why? Well, I suppose there is something of bereavement about it. Also, unlike sex (the original quote is post coitum...) there is no shared pleasure. No one to turn to share the rapture with. Oh yes, there is a husband, but he is not a naturally rapturous person, and rejoicing with me isn't one of his virtues. So I have lost the thing I loved, am alone in the world, with only the prospect of writing another novel to sustain me. I would love to think the Agent will give herself a shake and decide to read it this weekend, but it seems most unlikely. I expect I will have to wait until October (3 months) before I can politely suggest I she's had it long enough and perhaps it is time someone else had a look at it.
I forced Anna to hear brief synopses of my 3 half-written works, and choose: she opted for 17 years - but said I must do a lot of chopping between the two alternative lives... I also like the idea that the sections are named after the men and only very small sections are Izzy's own life. I think I may take a few days off, there is stuff to do for the Arts festival and so on, and I have to write and picture research my talk on "Naked men wrestling in sand: The Ancient Olympics".
Meanwhile, I shall put another page or two from TRF on the blog - as a way of farewell.
Why? Well, I suppose there is something of bereavement about it. Also, unlike sex (the original quote is post coitum...) there is no shared pleasure. No one to turn to share the rapture with. Oh yes, there is a husband, but he is not a naturally rapturous person, and rejoicing with me isn't one of his virtues. So I have lost the thing I loved, am alone in the world, with only the prospect of writing another novel to sustain me. I would love to think the Agent will give herself a shake and decide to read it this weekend, but it seems most unlikely. I expect I will have to wait until October (3 months) before I can politely suggest I she's had it long enough and perhaps it is time someone else had a look at it.
I forced Anna to hear brief synopses of my 3 half-written works, and choose: she opted for 17 years - but said I must do a lot of chopping between the two alternative lives... I also like the idea that the sections are named after the men and only very small sections are Izzy's own life. I think I may take a few days off, there is stuff to do for the Arts festival and so on, and I have to write and picture research my talk on "Naked men wrestling in sand: The Ancient Olympics".
Meanwhile, I shall put another page or two from TRF on the blog - as a way of farewell.
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