drunk post

So you know it's rippin, raw, and real.

First of all, Other People Suck. It's not been a Happy Time in Sexland. I won't go into why, but Other People Suck. Not you, you understand. Other People. Expect long lines and delays. Your call may be recorded for training purposes.

Thoughts on strategies to withstand the Great Sucking Sound That Is Our Economy. (Thank you, George W and Cronies.) (My. That's A Lot Of Caps.) So. Why submit to agents who aren't going to take new authors on cuz editors won't take new editors on... and so on, and so on, and so on. I'm focused on short stories right now. They keep crashing out of me like one of those coffee bean dispensers at Target.

My kid pulled one of those one time. Coffee beans everywhere. Cats and dogs, living together...red shirts came a'runnin...

Actually, no, s/he didn't. That's the balance of that nasty 60/40 truth split. See header for disclaimer.

Turkey is yummy. So is punkin pie. We Americans are so lucky. Don't forget to buy a bag of food for the hungry this holiday season. Whaaa? Can't afford it? You can afford a computer and Internet service cancha?

We had a pre-Turkey Day party tonight. All snacks, nothing resembling what we're going to eat tomorrow (beyond the alcohol, which was considerable). Highly recommended.

And, just because it's going to make him blush terribly: I had a dream about Conduit last night. No. Not like that. Happily married 17 years if it's a day. SHEESH. I did dream he came to the US on a big book tour to promote THE GHOSTS OF BELFAST. Sold a bunch, he did. (I'm a writer. Detailed dreams.)

Oh. And he gave me a hug. :P And I gave him one back. And then we had beers like old mates from way back.

I hereby announce that if I've known you via the blog for longer than, say, 3 mos, you're due one hug and one beer (yes, or wine, Stephen). On me. Whether you want it or not.


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