Also, my kid is 15 months old and I'm still suffering the ridiculous memory frazzlement that started when I was pregnant. Do I ever get to regain my sanity?
I've got to go out soon, so I've decided to not start writing my mammoth scene that will probably take a solid hour just to get through. Maybe more if my characters are being difficult. (Yes, Selena, I'm looking at you!)
I am writing! It's the internets'ss's fault. Shiny, shiny internet. And the phone calls asking me to do stuff. And email! Fluffy, fluffy email. Shut up. I am writing.
My agent has three - yes 'three'! - to sell. When she sells one (notice I said 'when', not 'if'. I still haz a hope.), I'll pick up where I left off on the fourth one.
It's spring, and my mind has gone into obsessive gardening mode. Poor novel, it may get looked at a time or two, but for the next several months it will be lonely.
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