Dear Lovely Laser Eyes,
I understand you’ve got gobbledygook in your brain. You’ve decided to cut the word count of your novel from 121,000 words to 70,000 words? You’re sick.
It sounds like self-punishment, I know. But I think it might be self-love.
Last week, I got some advice from an author with a lot more experience in publishing. I asked her for some help with my pitch package. She took one look at my word count and told me, “No agent will look at your YA book with a word count of 121,000.”
When I was writing my book, I knew the word counts of YA were hovering around 60-80,000 but I ignored those numbers. Now, after getting over two dozen rejections from agents with zero requests for partials or fulls, I’m ready to kneel at the altar of the word count gods.
My goal has always been to publish traditionally. If you want to publish traditionally, you have to play by the industry rules.
Wish me luck, writer friends. Hopefully I’ll return with my sanity.
Seeing my mom decline has been one of the saddest experiences of my life. It has made me see that our system of dealing with old age is broken.
Should we be keeping people that have Alzheimer’s and dementia alive? I personally don’t want that for myself and I bet most people, if given the choice, wouldn’t either.
I’ve talked to several people in my generation that say, “yeah, I’m going to get a pill and take it when the time comes.” Suicide when the time is right.
95% of the time, that’s not how it goes down. Where did I hide that pill? I forget because Alzheimer’s crept up on me. Or, one minute you’re happy, you’re 85 and still loving life and then you have an event. Like a stroke. Your brain is affected and you can’t think for yourself anymore.
I’m going to die someday. That’s inescapable. So I want to be able to plan my death. I want to be able to go further than just have a “Do Not Resuscitate” order in my will. What if I get Alzheimer’s or dementia? I don’t want to put my family or myself through that. Planning how I die should be my right as a human being. To say that when I don’t remember who my loved ones are, put me to sleep! Have a ceremony for loved ones so they can say goodbye. Make is special. So they can recount the good times we’ve had and laugh and cry.
Play some Oscar Peterson,
play some Madness,
and of course, play “The Final Countdown”.