Got my first response to my latest draft of The Vanishing of Owen Taylor, today, and it was pretty much a complete rejection. Boiled down to it needs to be cut in half and has too many characters. So...what does that mean? Well...nothing, just yet. I do have a previous response that isn't supposed to count; the reader wants to go back through to be able to give me better notes because he got lost in it...i.e. loved it. I'm waiting to hear from a couple of others, as well, before I make any decisions about what to do next. But it cuts you.
Doesn't help that I'm also still kind of off-kilter from the trip. The flight back from Hong Kong got off late, arrived late, and felt really, really long. And my brain was not doing well in the focusing department, so I watched their entertainment selections. First up was the first season of Prime Suspect...and damn it's still good. Better than 99% of the police programs on TV even now, and that's with it being 25 years old.
Another offering was SPY, with Melissa McCarthy, Jason Statham, Jude Law and Rose Byrne -- and it was a hoot, to my surprise. It got a little silly in parts, when Melissa was being bad-ass, but overall? I'd watch it, again. I actually got startled into a snorting laugh in the middle of this deathly quiet airplane. I think I woke up a couple of people. Very embarrassing.
One major disappointment about Hong Kong this year, aside from the heat index being 9000? The lack of good-looking men to glance at. The best one was a book dealer from the UK, whom I've known for a while and sighed over for just as long, and whose name shall remain unknown...and who was smart enough to have his pretty wife with him. Dammit.
But outside the venue? Nothin'. I remember the first year I went to this fair, I practically stalked this gorgeous Frenchman up to The Peak. The weather was cool so I had on a pullover, and he was wearing a neat leather jacket. I got some decent photos of him...somewhere. I'll have to see if I can find them. Of course, he noticed me doing it and cast me a Get the F away glare. Not that it mattered; once on The Peak, half a dozen caught my eye...including a couple who were coupled.
Still...some spy I'll never be...
Doesn't help that I'm also still kind of off-kilter from the trip. The flight back from Hong Kong got off late, arrived late, and felt really, really long. And my brain was not doing well in the focusing department, so I watched their entertainment selections. First up was the first season of Prime Suspect...and damn it's still good. Better than 99% of the police programs on TV even now, and that's with it being 25 years old.
One major disappointment about Hong Kong this year, aside from the heat index being 9000? The lack of good-looking men to glance at. The best one was a book dealer from the UK, whom I've known for a while and sighed over for just as long, and whose name shall remain unknown...and who was smart enough to have his pretty wife with him. Dammit.
But outside the venue? Nothin'. I remember the first year I went to this fair, I practically stalked this gorgeous Frenchman up to The Peak. The weather was cool so I had on a pullover, and he was wearing a neat leather jacket. I got some decent photos of him...somewhere. I'll have to see if I can find them. Of course, he noticed me doing it and cast me a Get the F away glare. Not that it mattered; once on The Peak, half a dozen caught my eye...including a couple who were coupled.
Still...some spy I'll never be...
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