August Rock isn't called August Rock any more...my ghost Toby isn't any more and worse of all...I'm only half way through rewriting it and I have just a month to go until deadline. I was so foolish to think I knew this book. It is changing on me daily. The problem is that I hear every criticism that was made of The Cornish House and I'm trying to make sure I don't fall into those traps again. I am cursing myself that I missed them in the first place. All of this doesn't make for a happy writer. It makes for a slow self concious one who questions everything and doubts that I'm a storyteller at all.
I know from other writer friends that this is normal for book two and beyond...
But in the meantime I've messed up my family's summer hols and made myself a wreck. I must get a grip on myself and pray that I can pull this together in time.
Please come by on Thursday and visit with Biddy...while I wallow and write in the pit of despair!