I have spent much time this year preparing book proposals for agents and publishers. At the moment it is my Metaphysic that I am busy with, which has already been published in reduced form by the Philosophical Society of England. Every time that I submit a proposal, I first do some revision of the manuscript -- every submission representing a fresh motivation. But a metaphysic is not easy. Kant, as an example (not that I should be a Kant), complained that the Fates had spun the threads “so thin and weak for me”. I have struggled in particular with my opening chapters. Yesterday I did a rewrite of these chapters, feeling the weight of the mission, and I went to bed in darkness of mind. But when I awoke, and read the previous day's work, I was surprised by its lucidity. These chapters went off a few moments ago to an agent in London.
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