I logged on to blogger last night and noticed that, at 2:00 am, you get lots of foreign blogs being updated. Lots in Portuguese. A few in Finnish. Maybe I should move to Europe--our schedule would be right on there.
Daniel is at that "Does Something Cute Every Day" Stage. I was counting at him (I don't know why, but it wasn't a "I'm gonna count to three and then...." kind of count), and I said, "One," and he piped up with "Two!" I said, "Three, four five!" and he said, "Six!" Surprised me.
He also now says, "Woof" and "Meow", and he thinks that "Mama" means "Kisses."
He also just developed stranger anxiety, so we missed the "get him used to a babysitter" window. Shoot!
Tim is downstairs recording new songs (big surprise, right?). He wrote this gorgeous Christmas Pop song, like something a boyband would sing in perfect harmony and all the teenage girls would cry along with. Sounds like it should be on the radio. And he does this off the top of his head, without any agony, and then doesn't take it seriously because it's so easy. Naturally, this one is going to be a comedy bit. That's what he does. But it just amazed me that he can write classical AND pop AND jazz AND comedy, and it's all so easy that he doesn't even try to sell it or anything because, you know, it's like breathing. You don't sell that. Go figure.
I rewrote the beginning of my novel over and over following all the instructions from well-respected people online. And then I thought it was done, and gave it to Tim, and looked at it again, and it was Total Crap. So I went back to square one and said, "Time to delete and start over--just the first chapter"--and I came up with this great first line for a novel: "Kate hated to read." Then I remembered that That was the first line before I started messing with it. Oh. So I went back to the way it was before, and, lo and behold, I LIKED it. It wasn't any of what I had imagined it was. I would say the editing was a waste of time, but it actually got me into one more rewrite where I found several more rather big inconsistencies in the characters' behaviors (like why does Robin Hood explain Everything to Kate? Head Spy in Serious Trouble wouldn't give all his secrets away to a stranger. Duh. And its not necessary for the story). So, with those fixed, I managed to cut 28,000 words (yikes! that's a lot of dead wood) from just the first half of the book. I thought I might cut 20,000 more from the last half, but the last half is already really good. It was just the beginning that wasn't. Hopefully now it is because I found several more agents I'm interested in working with.
Just now I have to determine once and for all who my audience is. It doesn't feel like a Young Adult novel (think "Over Sea Under Stone" or "Ella Enchanted" for YA). But it's not chick lit (no sex or corporate stresses). So I need to figure out what to call the "16-26 year old smart female" audience--a book for the same age/gender as chick lit, but for people who want escapist fiction, not relationship fiction. What is THAT audience called?