Rise baby rise

I have forty-five minutes before I have to leave for work so pardon typo’s and other asshole mistakes because I want to post this NOW.

Resurrection is an odd word, depending on what is being resurrected, Christ, yeah we all get that, there’s relationships, jobs, and attempting again that which has been at times considered a  failure.

Seven years ago I wrote a book; a first book.  Like most first attempts at novel writing a lot of me is in there, not directly, but as something to draw upon.

Early on I queried that novel, and early on it was rejected, and should have been. The book was crap, the story wasn’t. On the shelf it went.

Then something magical happened and again out of the ashes it rose, rewritten a few more times, queried often and again...back on the shelf. A third time I took it down off the shelf and handed it around to anyone who would read it and I was brought to my knees weeping by the positive responses, but they weren’t pros, they were readers; query, cry, on the shelf.

Seven years and I have decided I’m going to resurrect and try again until someone; anyone with the gatekeeper’s power will have at it.

An on-line writer friend recommended I read something about structure, (thank you D) and what I discovered is that by chance my novel has the characters, elements, structure and the story, which according to the experts are the fundamentals of a successful novel. Who would have thought I did it by chance?

Okay so this in MY opinion. I get that. But I’m running out of shelf space. My fire is built and as the smoke billows, my bird has spread her wings and is flying again.

When do you give up?