The woman creates a pseudonym and hides behind it like a worm

...was nearly said by...

I've decided to write under a pseudonym and hide behind it like a worm.

The pseudonym I have chosen is J.K.Rowling. It will be wonderful to publish without hype or expectation, and pure pleasure to get feedback under a different name.

Do you think I'll sell many books?

(Of course, once my true identity is revealed, sales will rocket up by more than 507,000%)

I think it will be more successful than my previous bid for anonymity, using an anagram of my name:

Corona Lexicon made me appear just that bit too stuffy and intellectual...

"Reading Girl" by Gustav Adolph Hennig (German, 1797-1869)

So... J.K.Rowling it is.

The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.

Today, I'm taking my inspiration from Confucius Hesay (Yes, I DID once think that was his surname.)

 And in a typical Caroline almost non sequitur leap...when I was at university in Liverpool, I used to listen to dear old Radio City. The very best bit was the quiz section. (And this REALLY HAPPENED)

D.J. :What was Hitler's first name?

Very long pause...

Contestant :(tentatively) Heil?

Your Monday morning entertainment, courtesy of Caroline's Random Memory Bank.

Back to small stones and the carrying away of them.

I have to confess that sometimes I DO get a bit resigned - all this applying and pitching and submitting my work, the contents of my soul, and seemingly, very little or nothing coming of it.

It's important not to lose sight of the mountain to be moved. The bigger picture. What is important to me. That which makes all this stone-carrying mean something.

Yay!

Caroline came to a fork in the road.

'Which road do I take?' she asked.
'Where do you want to go?' responded the Cheshire Cat.
'I don't know,' Caroline answered.
'Then,' said the Cat, 'it doesn't matter.”

From Alice Caroline in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll. Maybe.

                                                                                                                                                                        

By John Tenniel

Was still wrestling with the same dilemma - the dilemma so eloquently (or pitifully) described here

So - I have come to a decision! And, as the Chesire Cat says, since I'm uncertain, then it doesn't really matter which decision I take.

I am going to give myself another three months to find a publisher. I've researched and discovered some small, independent companies which take unsolicited manuscripts directly from authors, not via agents.

They seem like my sort of companies too. Friendly, looking for something a bit different, rather than wanting a safe formulaic pot-boiler. Quirky, even.

SO...I feel heaps better. Some sort of time-limited strategy rather than this endless flip-floppy amorphous limbo-land I've been inhabiting lately.

In fact, I'm almost grinning from ear to ear like...

You will be judged (or you will be ignored)

Those are pretty much the only two choices.

Being judged is uncomfortable. Snap judgments, prejudices, misinformation... all of these, combined with not enough time (how could there be) to truly know you, means that you will inevitably be misjudged, underestimated (or overestimated) and unfairly rejected.
The alternative, of course, is much safer.

To be ignored.

Up to you.

This was Seth Godin's post, yesterday

What's that spooky music? Okay, it'll have to be Psycho, but that's not the one I meant.

Anyway - that post came exactly at the right moment yesterday to spur me on, to swallow the fear of being 'misjudged, underestimated (or overestimated) and unfairly rejected,' and send the first ten pages of my YA novel, Of Night And Light, to a literary agent, and send the screenplay of The Melting to a film producer.

Now, all I have to do is wait...for something...

I'm mean, seriously...what IS the point of me writing all this stuff, pouring my heart and soul into it, and then NOT DOING ANYTHING WITH IT?

Sometimes, I could get quite cross with myself.

The power of small

Or - how little things can make a huge difference.

By Carly Allen-Fletcher at http://carlydraws.com/

So yesterday, there was the Goliath in my life that I was battling, my feelings of resignation about my creative writing, my thoughts that I'll NEVER be J.K.Rowling - for that is Peter's idea of the successful author he would like me to be (which is not actually my ambition!)

Funnily enough I do believe Peter's aspiration for my future has little to do with the quality of the work or my creative fulfilment...more the size of the bank balance. Hard to imagine, eh? Quite often when I'm struggling away to perfect a recalcitrant phrase, he'll say 'Why can't you just write something like J.K. Rowling does and then you can keep me in the manner to which I'd like to become accustomed?'

I could almost hate J.K.Rowling...

Anyway - I was girding up my loins (as I am in biblical metaphor mode) to write a query letter to an agent when...David arrived in my In-Box, fully armed with anti-Goliath sling and handy pebble...

...in the form of a film producer from Connecticut requesting one of my scripts and also wondering about me being involved in a rewrite of a feature.

I'm not stupid. I KNOW that a) he's probably sent the same e-mail to a zillion other people and b) in all likelihood, nothing will come of it....

but, boy, did Goliath collapse at once into a crumpled heap.

So far, he hasn't got up again.