Dear Miss Snark,
No more! No more! You wile spawn of hell. I am so tired of re-writing this fucking hook, I'm just going to crawl in a corner and blow my brains out.
I have to confess that there's a lazy part of me that figured that all I had to do was obsess over my book and I'd find someone to read it. Glancing through your blog and other sites I'm beginning to see just how many aspiring writers are out there, many who obviously don't have the patience.
I don't know if my book will be something anyone wants to read. I think it's good, but then we all do, don't we? But reading back through the greveyard of Crapometer entries, I've noticed that, even well written queries and passages eventually run together into one monotonous narrative with very few moments among them to -- what's the word I'm looking for? oh yeah -- hook my attention.
I used to think that going through a slush pile would be fun, the anticipation, the fresh voice, but it's not, is it?
A gin and tonic would go nicely right about now, but I'll check the hook one more time to see if I can make it better.
I do not loathe and disdain the slush pile. Some of the contents may annoy the snot out of me (posts about them are sprinkled throughout the Snarkives) but I regularly find good writing there and I've sold many a good novel that came over the transom.
The poet said "hope springs eternal" and that is exactly how I view the slush.
The crapometer doesn't produce books for me to sell but it has many other benefits and I'm actually looking forward to seeing what you all are dreaming up to entice me with next weekend.