Old Writing Space

My desk arrives tomorrow. I haven't cleaned up yet. I'm not sure whether to hope for an early arrival or a late one. For this afternoon, I found an hour between work and my exercise class, so I'm sitting in one of my favorite writing spots: Starbucks.

It is really freaking cold in here. I could sit outside, but there are no power outlets and too many smokers. It's like 95 today, and I'm wearing jeans, and I'm shivering. I may have to add a sweater to my laptop bag.

This week has been interesting. I posted an attempt at a query letter to an online critique site, and got some interesting feedback. No, the novel's not quite complete, but I thought I'd at least see if I'm on the right track. Interestingly, none of the feedback was grammatical or structural. It was more about how I described my characters (I guess it sounded like a lot of sleeping around), and my heroine's job (she's a realtor who's rehabbing houses...the word "flip" is hitting hot buttons I guess). Because of my chosen subject, I might indeed have trouble finding a market given the current economy, even assuming that anyone finds my writing worth considering. But I can't write that part out, it's too integral to the story.

I'm not heartbroken over the comments--all of my work for my day job goes through peer review, which is much the same thing as a writing critique (but with less focus on spelling and grammar). It is not the sort of commentary that makes your heart sing and puts wings on your feet, though. And that is a good thing because my h&h have some serious reconciliation to do. I'm about a scene or two away from a happily ever after.

And then, back to square 1 while I let this one age a bit. When I come back to it, hopefully, it will resemble a fine wine more than fuzzy macaroni and cheese.