Chapters Five and Six were this week added to the imaginary list of 'Book 2 chapters I've done but am not necessarily completely happy with but will do for this draft'. I should probably keep my imaginary list titles shorter. Or perhaps stop using my time to imagine lists.
Chapter seven is over halfway there, with bits and pieces already floating about for eight, nine and ten. It was one of my aims to have the first ten chapters done by the end of the summer break and I'm hoping that I might just be able to get it done, provided I don't get another attack of the grumps which leads me to believe that I'm useless at writing and that I'll never get anything published so what's the point.
My second aim of the summer isn't moving along so well. I started work on my query letter today, using an earlier version which was originally written for a module on the MA. I was pretty convinced that it was shite then and reading it today hasn't really changed that mindset. It's alright when it gets going I suppose, but the first paragraph makes me want to pull my metaphorical teeth out.
I also need to find a shed-load of agents to write to. So far I've got a grand total of one, though that's really just because I was only required to find one for above-mentioned MA assignment. Whenever I read a book in the genre I'm writing in, I always look at the agents they mention but it seems to me that they're always US- or Australia-based. I don't know much about the rules of agent-begging but I should imagine we have to be in the same continent.
My brand new idea from last week refused to shut up so I've decided to go with it, to some extent. Nothing substantial, just notes and so on, but I couldn't be bothered to argue my brain into submission and make myself bad tempered in the process. So I'm having a ponder about this new interesting bunch of characters and the world they inhabit (a whole new world, rather excitingly) and writing down odd and ends about them as they occur to me. I'm sure there are plenty of people who would tell me that I'm an idiot for thinking about more than one story at once but I don't make a habit of listening to people. I'm in my own little world over here.
I finished off reading John Green's Looking for Alaska yesterday in the lovely sunny garden and may - depending on where my head wanders off to this week - write a review of it. Hopefully containing something other than 'Why do you do this to me John Green....?'