Another rejection

Slider's Son garnered its second rejection this week. "Not enough historical detail" is what Calkins Creek said. George is baffled by that (maybe more than I am, even), so he's going to ask them what they meant by that. In the meantime, I'm going to spread in some more Depression-era details into the manuscript. I was mostly concerned with the character in the small town and making his life real. Guess I'll try to make the national news come home to roost more than it does already.

I have some ideas. I'm going to add some of them this weekend.

I wish I could get a book right the first time. Or second, third, fourth, fifth, or sixth. Wonder what it means that I have to revise at least TWELVE times before anything gets published.

It mostly means that I should do nothing but write and maybe I'd get a book done WAY faster (and be with my kids, and be with friends, and ride my bike, and play with Freya--oh, yeah, and teach and grade papers).

Oh, well. I'm heading out on my bike to THINK in a few minutes.

Goofy Newfies.

So, this morning...it's raining and Freya went outside to do her business and came RIGHT back in before she finished. At least we know she's smart enough to come in out of the rain. When the rain let up, she ran way out into the cornfield to do it! Good dog! I was so proud of her...until I noticed her foot prints...uh, maybe this will accelerate my ripping up of the carpet in my house.

Yesterday, Gwen and Roger brought Buster Brown, their brown Newfy up to play with Freya. We had a blast. Dogs swam, retrieving things unto exhaustion. Here they are, shaking in tandem. There was quite a bit of slobber in the kitchen all at once.

Photos on blogger: I give up. I put them up in order; I rearrange them. The way they appear has nothing to do with how I posted them. It's not worth spending time rearranging. Back to working on my writing.