With all the other stuff on the burners, it's been a while since I
sent anything out into the cold, cruel, world. Unfortunately, the
world has not yet beaten its path to my door to throw money at me.
Bummer. Guess I still have to pitch my stuff like everyone else.
So this week I've sent an old short story set in the Great Dustbowl
to Burnt Offerings Books, and less than a minute ago I shot an angry
little piece off to The Dark, a magazine that publishes dark fantasy.
Both stories are ones that hit you in the heart, as well as all the
nerves that run down your spine. Being in love doesn't stop you from
needing to put food on the table, and anger can do a lot if you just
focus. Fame and fortune can't be far behind, right?
Snicker.
Our new dog is slowly coming to grips with the fact that the cats are
not going to ever be the sort to enjoy big, sloppy licks in their
faces. The cats are absolutely refusing to accept the possibility
that this big, funny-looking stranger with a cold nose is going to be
around for the duration. Diamond keeps trying to give her new pact
mates a friendly sniff, but one hiss and she runs away whimpering.
Try to imagine a puppy with the awkwardness of a teenager who is
terrified of two cats a quarter of her size, but who jumps between a
stranger and my wife, barking and growling, when that stranger
appears unannounced. Fortunately, the 'stranger' was a friend who
had just changed clothes and her hair.
Still pounding on In The Dark, and still working on what I want my
website to look like.
Still writing, now with a dog sleeping at my feet.
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