Unsurprisingly, BP's plan to clog up the hole in the ocean that they left did not work. I saw a video about ten minutes ago that showed how the coast guard and BP were stopping news crews from shooting on the beach.
I debated whether or not if I should mention this, but I've decided to do so, given that it's over now. Lately, I have been debating what's good to talk about on this blog, and what isn't, and for a lot of the time, I've been holding back. I guess, after everything I've said and done, I've just grown to like the quiet, and I've taken to that idea that professionalism means keeping your mouth shut, which is certainly not true. There's too much silence about a writer's experiences trying to sell in this industry, and me, while I'm popular on the exam board in Germany, I'm a pretty low rung author, and my experiences match that, so I figure some people will find it interesting to hear the story of last week's bad week, which included bad news that I already accepted.
The thing about bad news, however, is no matter how much you know it, it still sucks to hear it. Think about the time you've been seeing someone, a girl or a guy, either way, and you dig them a little more than they dig you, and you begin to realise it isn't going to last, and you know one day is going to come and everything will end. You know it, but it still sucks to hear it when it does. Part of my news last week was of that variety. See, around later November of last year, Angry Robot expressed interest in buying Beneath the Red Sun. There were a couple of hoops to jump through, but it looked fairly promising, to the point that I'd hear back within a few weeks with a welcome to the imprint kind of thing. Well, a few weeks passed, a month, queries went unanswered (this is one of the worse traits the publishing industry has) and eventually I took the hint and figured it had fallen through. It sucked, but what else you going to do? Later, like everyone else, I heard about Angry Robot splitting from Harpercollins and joining with Osprey Publishing Group in the UK. Later, like a few other people in my position, no doubt, I got a polite email telling me what I had already figured.
It was sixteen months from submission to almost sold to nothing, and a lot of things happen in that amount of time, most of which is you get older, and you feel the weight of not working how you want work press against you. Personally, I chilled out on writing for a bit, though I wouldn't really recognise I did it until earlier this year--all of this, plus agents, other publishing sagas, and personalities can leave you feeling a little bit empty at the end of the day, and I felt like I'd had a long day. Longer, with the tales of agents, on some days. There's a lot of people out there who will do a single deal for you, take some cash, and leave you with nothing afterwards: I may be wrong, but I figure you want to stay away from them. You know, there was even a global financial crisis in that time.
But, at the end of the day, all you can say is that some shit happened and it didn't go my way. Maybe next time.
I bet you all want to be a writer now.