Now that’s a good title eh?

It’s not mine, though perhaps it’d be appropriate. Plenty of heat going on: in the book, and in reality. Yesterday was supposedly cooler, but definitely not actually cool.

Not that I’m complaining. Love summer. Love it. But prefer if I can sit still, not far from the fan, with a glass of iced fizzy lime juice, a book, and within earshot of two peacefully sleeping babies.

Yeah, I could be doing that right now, but that brings me to the trepidation part of the story. I’m trepid. (I’m going to be intrepid with spelling and pretend trepid is a word on its own.)

I’m trepid about two things:

– which agents/publishers to approach (so as not to waste their time or mine, so as to receive as few rejections as necessary, so as to hopefully work out a decent deal… and to get a deal at all)

– whether I’m really ready for this book to be out there and read by people who I know.

I’ve been getting heaps of lovely positive feedback and interest from friends and family about my first chapter. Which is all good, except that I’m wondering if I’ve been a little misleading as to this novel’s genre and nature. This is the romance writer’s quandry, I suppose, and shouldn’t come as a great surprise to me…

– how do I feel about people I know reading the saucier stuff that I write?

– and, alternately, how do the people I know feel about reading the saucy stuff?

My near-finished novel is a romance and there are many types of romance, of course, but this one is sexy in places. So, I’d love to have readers but if that sort of thing is not your cup of tea then maybe give this one a miss.

I have plenty more ideas, and several other drafts… with any luck I’ll finish editing two manuscripts and write another first draft before year’s end. There will be other fish in this particular sea, is what I’m trying to say.

Now, back to fine-tuning chapter two. In a short while I’ll be off to buy the ingredients for frozen mocktails and then we’re going to a friend’s place where the kids will play with water and whatnot, and us mums will sit around with frozen fruit drinks and fan ourselves.

Ah, the baby cries. Might not manage that last bit of chapter two after all.