Moving house all week took the pain away from knowing that the editor and another Fremantle Press associate were about to take my manuscript to a 'pitch' meeting on Tuesday. Apparently this is when they sit down with the number crunchers and executives and persuade them that my manuscript is going to be a viable proposition.
I was unpacking old journals and diaries (the ones that survived the fire) and had fallen into a teary maudlin state that besets me whenever I 'accidentally' open one of those time bombs and start reading. An interesting juxtaposition when I think about how that incident with the diaries changed me as a writer.
Georgia, the editor, rang me.
I bin signed.
Yes!
Yes.
Yes.
Yes!
I had to walk around in circles and swear quite a bit, before sitting down. Tom Stephenson reckons I yelled at him on his blog and that his ears are still ringing. But he was very nice about it.
In July last year I sent Fremantle Press the unfinished book, which was a bit of a narratorial shambles when I think back. They said, "Yes, you are onto something here. Now go away and finish it and then rewrite it." In the months towards the end of last year I rewrote the whole book. If the Old Salt book were a 1974 HG Holden, you would call it a total rebuild. Then 'finished'. Printed.
I suddenly got the heebie jeebies and rang the editor. "I can't send it. I've just realised I haven't written a story about sardines. I've gotta get on a sardine boat. That will take at least another few weeks." It is quite horrifying looking at a pile of printed pages and thinking, 'This is it and I'm not ready.' Artists do it. Stonemasons do it. Even game hunters and seine netters do it. We all think, 'Is this the best I can do? Because I'm not getting another shot for a while.'
She said, "Get it off your desk, Sarah and send it to me."
Yes!
Fantastic news ST!
ReplyDeleteCongratulations, it'll be brilliant :)
YEH SARAH! what a drama...we all knew you would make it. Funny how the 'artist' is always the one who doubts. Just had an 'oh my god the painting isn't finished' myself. but handed it to Centennial hall all the same. YES, YES, YES! good on you lov!
ReplyDeleteBloody brilliant, that word Yes. Good on you for getting the painting off the easel and over to Centennial. Good luck!
ReplyDeleteYES is the best word in the English language - especially when it comes regarding your work! Oh, congratulations Sarah - your enthusiasm leaps off the computer screen. And yeah, of COURSE I'm following you. Saw a taste of your work on Tom Stephenson's blog and was suitably smitten. Your work reminds me of the writing of Laurita Miller, who lives in Newfoundland, on Canada's rocky east coast. It has that simple lyrical quality that I find so engaging.
ReplyDeleteBest of luck with your book.
Now, what about those sardines???
They were delicious Cathy. Seriously though, I know just the sardine fisherman to take me out. I'll have a look for Laurita Miller too. Always felt a bit akin to that coast for some reason. Thanks for the tip.
ReplyDeleteCongrats! If you wrote your book like you write your blog posts it isn't any wonder they said yes.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, I found your blog through Cathy. She has such a knack for finding the good stuff.
Aaand, I just noticed that Cathy just pointed you my way in her comment. :) I'm glad we've been introduced.
ReplyDeleteStoked! Now about my invitation to the launch...
ReplyDeleteThe client who ordered my latest carving job asked me when it would be finished. "Oh", I said, "in about two weeks". That was two months ago.
ReplyDeleteI really don't know when something is finished until about 5 minutes beforehand, and then - when it is being taken away - I am still following the truck, trying to make it look better.
Nothing is ever 'finished'.
I have heard that - in dread of creating a perfect and heretical masterpiece that flies in the face of God - the ancient Egyptians would deliberately build in faults to avoid the heresy.
That was their excuse...
It'll be great. No doubt about it.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations and on to the next!
That made my heart jump....bloody marvellous but I knew it was going to happen anyway.
ReplyDeleteYes, I am so grateful for supervisors and art-critic friends who say: that's it, it's done, get it out there. I am so familiar with the: 'it's not finished, I'm not ready yet' scenario. But I have developed a strategy of: well, it's finished for now. The question I now make myself answer is: does it say SOMETHING of what I want it to? NOT: does it say ALL that I want it to in the best possible way?
Congratulations Sarah - well deserved.
Nice to meet you too Laurita!
ReplyDeleteI like that idea of inserting flaws Tom, however most of us don't have to worry about offending God with perfection. My friend Cathy, whose paintings I post on A WineDark Sea sometimes, makes a point of never quite finishing her work. She says that if it is slightly unfinished then it makes the painting all the more intriging, which is kind of the same as what Tom and MF brought up. You can't 'say' everything, otherwise there is nothing else to think about.
That said, it's still horrifying getting it off the desk. Like you wrote MF, that is the job of the supervisors and editors. Thank goodness for them!
Thanks Ciaran. This book will take so long to get out (it's in the queue for late next year) that the 'next' will be just about ready to go anyway. Which takes the dreaded second novel scenario out of the equation.
Merc, of course.
YES. YES. YES. Can sex be any better than a call from a publisher?
ReplyDeleteFantastic news, Sarah. I never doubted it!
ReplyDeleteYou may not have doubted Barbara but I have been SWEATING for six weeks now! I reckon you know the feeling. Thanks for your faith.
ReplyDeleteMr Hat, I suppose there is such a thing as bad sex or a bad call from the publisher. Or no sex and no call. Wait. Um.
lovely.
ReplyDeleteYaaaay that's spectacular news!!! Can't wait to read it!!!
ReplyDelete