Ever Wanted to ReWrite Your Book/Novel After It's Too Late?
Posted: May 17th, 2014, 3:22 pm
I'd finished my manuscript for Leatherjacket Soldier and sent it to my publisher to add to the slush pile. An online acquaintance who is extremely knowledgeable about Baja California and the missions there reviewed the mss and pointed out a lot of errors I had made.
So, I went back to the publisher and pulled the mss.
Phew!
My acquaintance then directed me to a book, Antigua California, an outstanding work about the Jesuits and their efforts in Baja [lower] California. After scouring it at great length – reading and then summarizing and cataloging – I've discovered that I must completely write the historical novel I thought was finished.
Not only that, but I think I came up with a great start for it. Your comments? [Please remember this is the first, rough draft]
So, I went back to the publisher and pulled the mss.
Phew!
My acquaintance then directed me to a book, Antigua California, an outstanding work about the Jesuits and their efforts in Baja [lower] California. After scouring it at great length – reading and then summarizing and cataloging – I've discovered that I must completely write the historical novel I thought was finished.
Not only that, but I think I came up with a great start for it. Your comments? [Please remember this is the first, rough draft]
“Teresa. I am going to enlist in the cavalry.”
The young girl with curly light brown hair turned in her saddle to look at the thin youth riding next to her. “Why would you do that, Nandito? Can you not work at one of your brother's ranches?”
Fernando Rivera cringed at the girl's use of his childhood name. He had repeatedly asked – no begged – her not to do so. “They all have skilled mayordomos, Teresa and my half-brothers would not be able to provide the same stipend as my being a soldier.”
Her lightly freckled face formed a frown. “You would be going away to California?”
“No. I plan to go to the presidio outside of Tepic to sign up. They still need many soldiers to ensure the Huichol and Cora stay in the mountains and do not follow the lead of the Yaquis and Mayos in Sonora.”
Doña Maria Teresa Dávalos y Patrón rode for several moments in silence.
Fernando Javier de Rivera y Moncada watched her out of the corner of his eye. They had known each other all their lives and, when they were but nine years of age, their parents had made formal arrangements for their betrothal and wedding. It was to happen “when each reached the proper age for matrimony.” How may I support her as she is accustomed to? Fernando asked himself.