Author J. R. DuBois: Unfiltered

I feel like I'm desiccating. Not that I'm not alive. Not that I'm sad or depressed. I'm restless . I feel like a suped-up car, throttle down, revved up, my wheels spinning into the ground, going nowhere despite how hard I'm pressing the gas. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of toiling. I'm tired of putting all of my efforts towards things which don't seem to appreciate the effort. ( Matthew 7:6 "...do not throw your pearls before pigs, for they will trample them under feet, and turn and tear you to pieces." ) I feel torn to pieces. I feel yanked in different directions. I feel like I can TASTE what I'm supposed to be doing, where I'm supposed to be going, how maybe I should be doing it, and yet stunted for trying to get all the answers now, and to do it my way, on my terms, in my time. When I was with my friends in Georgia, I felt... whole. Now, that's a lot to put on some friends. This is me telling them, in the event that they...

 Howdy Ho! ((Why won't this thing let me post a picture!? It says I have to sign into Google, but I did, dang it.)) Since my previous post, I've had some significant traction, where the creative process goes. I heard back from one agent, but she desired me to cut my words down from 173,000 to 120,000. Give that this story was already going to be a trilogy turned duology turned single book (with series potential), it had already had a plethora of words sliced from it, but I did my best. Instead of 50,000 words, I was able to slice a little more than 11k. Not too shabby, considering there was little I could slice from the plot. I did reach back out to her, but am still awaiting feedback. Additionally, I submitted to the last remaining agents on my list for 2024, and have already received one rejection. I am grateful I was even given an actual rejection, as ofttimes, you are waiting until a certain time passes to know if you were rejected. (Perhaps I shouldn't say YOU, but tra...

 Hello and good morning. Except it's afternoon. Actually, I think it's the start of the evening. Is 4pm evening? *shrug* It is when you wake at 330am for your 5am clients! Anyway. Conduit of Fire is officially complete. The only thing that remains to be seen with it is for me to hire a professional editor and follow the publishing procedure--ASSUMING I don't get picked up by trad-pub. It has officially been 4-5 months since my last submission to the 3 folks prior to. No dice. I have 6 other names I can submit to, and I intend to, but it's weird how life interrupts your intention. So the James River Writing Conference is coming up, and one of the agents I paid to speak with suggested I go to it. It will be about $400. The cost isn't the reason I'm deciding not to go. It is because 1) there's also the Hampton Roads Writing Conference I want to go to, and 2) it is also $400, and 3) [the main reason] I really want to have a full rough draft of my second book bef...