*)%$#@! It's Almost September 1

I'm in a coma. At least that's my latest excuse.  From the end of June until now my body's gone through the motions, but the mind has been elsewhere, at least when it comes to fulfilling my self-imposed writing goals for the summer.

I hate when this happens.  I used to be so good about deadlines, you know?

September 1 was rewrite goal deadline.  Have the manuscript done by then so my agent could package it and resubmit to the guys and gals in NY.  Had all summer, but fell into that dangerous avoidance mode.

The question is why?

I know where I want the story to go.  The words just haven't been there.  The enthusiasm that embraced me when the original story poured out--poof.

I need to get back to the heart of things.  Kind of like when an aging Rocky returns to his "beginning" and starts running through the streets of Philadelphia and up the concrete steps to victory, clenched fists raised to the sky.  I'm not drinking the raw eggs, though.  Nope.  Gotta draw the line there, especially in light of the massive recall.

So, why the avoidance mode?  Maybe it's facing rejection again.  It's been three years.  Had some close calls (et tu, Little Brown), maybe it's the underlying fear of going through the waiting game all over again.  The market's rough.

A dear friend of mine passed along an interesting article from Newsweek about authors that have self-published.  One gentlemen uploaded his novel to Amazon Kindle, selling his book for $2.99 and the money came pouring in streams.  Publishing the traditional way usually nets an author 8-9%.  Self-publishing yields 70-80%.

Interesting.

But there's the marketing aspect to consider.  One needs to have a platform and build a base.  Not to mention the stigma still associated with self-publishing and the vanity press.  Though, it would appear to be diminishing as some self-published books have been picked up by major publishers after demonstrating success in the market.

So, one more push going the traditional route.  Then time to regroup, rethink.

Right now, I need to write.

I'd don some sweats and go for a run, but it's raining.

And guys in comas shouldn't exert themselves.  It's on WebMD.  Look it up.