So who's in the mood for some music?
It's now April second, and I'm sure there are a few intrigued souls out there who are now wondering, "Where the hell is the singing? The bongos? The unabashed, falling-on-your-knees worship of the winner?
Honestly, it's going to take a little while for this to happen...or for a winner to be chosen.
The last 40 days have been quite interesting - which, if you ascribe the the old Chinese parable, isn't necessarily a good thing. Mercedes and I have had massive sickness and personal trauma, suffered from exhaustion and walleye from staring at a glowing monitor for much too long. Writing 2500 words a day for 40 days definitely seems doable when you start out, but when life intercedes, things can get dicey. And not all of us are as prolific as Amanda Hocking. Woe is us.
But before anyone goes and thinks I'm starting a pity party, I'm not. All I'm trying to say is that because of these outside (and inside) stresses, the fine Mercedes and I have decided to push our Gauntlet deadline back to May 1st. But that, my friends, is final. There will be no more extensions after that.
Now, there will be one (self-imposed) revision to the rules, however. Due to the extension, the fact that I've made some FANTASTIC progress, and the reality that I don't have to deal with the added stress of a child growing inside me and the complications that can arise from that, I now have to not only complete the full manuscript, but also a pair of edits. In other words, if Silas isn't in the hands of my betas come May 1st, I lose.
As for Mercedes...I'm not holding her to anything but getting her novel and essays finished. If she wants to add more stress to the mix, it's all up to her. Personally, I think she has enough to deal with. But in all honesty, she probably thinks the same thing about me. Check up on her blog, A Broken Laptop, if you want to hear what she has to say about it.
So there you go, folks. I know it's disappointing that you have to wait another 30 days for the satisfaction of observing out utter embarrassment, but hey, we gots to do what we gots to do.
It's now April second, and I'm sure there are a few intrigued souls out there who are now wondering, "Where the hell is the singing? The bongos? The unabashed, falling-on-your-knees worship of the winner?
Honestly, it's going to take a little while for this to happen...or for a winner to be chosen.
The last 40 days have been quite interesting - which, if you ascribe the the old Chinese parable, isn't necessarily a good thing. Mercedes and I have had massive sickness and personal trauma, suffered from exhaustion and walleye from staring at a glowing monitor for much too long. Writing 2500 words a day for 40 days definitely seems doable when you start out, but when life intercedes, things can get dicey. And not all of us are as prolific as Amanda Hocking. Woe is us.
But before anyone goes and thinks I'm starting a pity party, I'm not. All I'm trying to say is that because of these outside (and inside) stresses, the fine Mercedes and I have decided to push our Gauntlet deadline back to May 1st. But that, my friends, is final. There will be no more extensions after that.
Now, there will be one (self-imposed) revision to the rules, however. Due to the extension, the fact that I've made some FANTASTIC progress, and the reality that I don't have to deal with the added stress of a child growing inside me and the complications that can arise from that, I now have to not only complete the full manuscript, but also a pair of edits. In other words, if Silas isn't in the hands of my betas come May 1st, I lose.
As for Mercedes...I'm not holding her to anything but getting her novel and essays finished. If she wants to add more stress to the mix, it's all up to her. Personally, I think she has enough to deal with. But in all honesty, she probably thinks the same thing about me. Check up on her blog, A Broken Laptop, if you want to hear what she has to say about it.
So there you go, folks. I know it's disappointing that you have to wait another 30 days for the satisfaction of observing out utter embarrassment, but hey, we gots to do what we gots to do.
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