This morning we had what you would call insignifcant rain--I came home from Central Market with the top down on my car, even though it was sprinkling and I finally had to use the windshield wipers. When you're moving, the raindrops don't seem to hit you; at stoplights, you do get a bit wet. But it was cloudy and much cooler than it has been. Rain in June is unusual for us, but this afternoon we had what I'm sure weather people would call an "appreciable" amoiunt of rain--it certainly soaked my porch plants for me. And it made for great napping. If it was a quarter of an inch, I'll be surprised. This evening, even though it's not hot, it's terribly muggy and still. Yet I'm grateful for the rain. Just wish my new grass had gotten in before it came.
On Sisters in Crime you read a lot about the importance of close communication with your agent, and yet I never hear from mine, so yesterday I started a campaign to get in touch with him. Today I've had emails, which report that two editors have passed on my manuscript and it's still out to five other editors. Somewhat reassuring. I fired back a list of questions and haven't heard yet. A bit frustrating.
Even more frustrating, I think I like the novel I'm currently writing better than the first two--shh! should I say that aloud? Maybe you always like the one in progress best, like the newest baby in the family gets the most attention. But I had a great idea for a plot twist today and am going to work on that tonight. What do I do with it? Tell the agent to save some editors for this new one that is completely unconnected to the other two? Sometimes I have the feeling that I'm just beginning to learn the ropes of this business, and at my age, I don't have a lot of time left to learn.
I had a brief visit with the new director of the press this morning, and he said writing is a release for him. I agreed. I can't imagine not writing. But it would be nice to see some of it in print. I've said this before, but I've read cozies that I don't think are as well written or as interesting as mine--yet they're published, and, mostly, I enjoyed them. Conundrum!
I haven't had a response to my proposal for a nonfiction book, though I got three CDs in the mail today relating to it--I'd paid for them, so I hope I get to use them. And I occasionally spot an article in the newspaper that is relevant, so I'm always on the prowl.
These days, writing is what I do, though I've thought about Jean Walbridge--what she does is weave, which is pretty much a solitary occupation, like writing, but she's also active in the local weaver's guild and goes to the Monday Book at the Women's Club. She's joined groups and gets out of the house. I need to do that, because sometimes I enjoy too much of my own company.