For the last few days I’ve been revisiting a middle grade novel I started five years ago. I got busy with other projects and put the long story down with one chapter to go. After rereading it, I think the story has merit. I have a window now big enough to allow me to get back into the dormant story, so here goes.I still haven’t sold my first two MG manuscripts. Maybe the third time with be the charm.
Time for some serious goo foffing.The turtles are calling. I can almost hear them singing to me.
In spite of them, I will remain productive and be in touch. Same time, different place.
They’re everywhere and think they own the place. There is always a period of adjustment before we can agree on who’s in charge and settle down to coexist. Trust me, I’ll work it out.
I had a fine time last night as JEFF HOUGHTON’s guest on The Improvised Mystery Hour. The room, which is part of the Cuban restaurant, La Habana Vieja on Springfield’s Commercial Street, was filled to capacity and then some. Jeff is a great host and he and cast entertained us with clever, witty improv skits before and after my guest spot. It was all good fun. My thanks again to Jeff.
I have noticed one thing about my speaking persona. I tend to frown and scowl a lot. At the time I’m doing these things, people are laughing appropriately. It’s not like I’m in pain. I’m really enjoying myself immensely. Hmmm.
As I walked out of our garage for the paper this morning, I nearly collided with a skunk (not the one pictured but one just like it). It was emerging from a hedge that grows along the front of our house. Its fur was fluffed out for protection against the bitter morning. It was as surprised to see me as I was to see it.
We stopped. From a distance of three feet, we each made a quick assessment. The skunk didn’t seem agitated so I continued the way I was headed, walking slowly toward the paper. The animal was gone when I retraced my steps a minute or two later. The garage door was up, the lights were on, and it was warmer in there. Could the skunk have gone inside?Seeing and smelling no sign of a visitor, I closed the garage door and made my way back into the kitchen. Just another encounter with a citizen of Goose Lake. Another memory.