I honestly don't feel like I can possibly do much more with "The Linen Butterfly." I've refined it to the point where I'm fatiguing myself trying to find things wrong with it. But there are things I can still fix, and if I let myself I could keep fixing them indefinitely. It's time to put the project to bed and trust in my skill.
I was just thinking tonight how my goals have changed. With "Vimana" I was hoping for a big success from a small publisher. I didn't go huge but there are signs that people definitely noticed me. With "Butterfly" I'm hoping for a small success from a big publisher.
What can I expect? With "Vimana" I set out to write something on the level of what was cutting edge in the late 60s and ended up with something slightly more polished, which is good. But the bar is set much higher nowadays than it was when Dick, Disch, and Lem were ramping things up. SF is much more fiercely competitive.
I've tried to get my ideas, my prose, and my characters all in top form. I've rewritten the story so many times it bears little resemblance to the story it derived from, because I wanted a strong narrative. I worried obsessively about pacing. I went through the manuscript with a fine-toothed comb multiple times even when it was "done" and I'm only walking away from editing now because it's far better than anything I've done to date.
I think my perspective on what I can expect as a writer has changed. A small success with a big publisher suddenly seems plausible when I consider that "Vimana" did pretty well for niche fiction from an indie publisher. It's doable. But I'm intimidated beyond words.
My I Ching readings have predicted a rough ride with a lot of biting my way through, tricky situations, powerful allies whose power is a double-edged sword, and situations where my goals may be temporarily waylaid by miscommunications. One thing they didn't predict was utter failure.
I get the distinct impression that I'm about to unlock a new level, and it's going to be much harder. Great rewards bring great risks. Powerful allies can become powerful enemies. I won't fool myself; if my writing career hits critical mass here and now, this will not be easy.
