Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored" as the days become even with the nights, and the long descent into darkness begins. Autumn and winter are my favorite seasons, but the dwindling hours of sunshine can really take a toll. Oh well. On we roll.
I think I mentioned that Mr. J will have a book coming out in a store near you next spring. The last time I mentioned it here on this site, I used Mr. J's real name, and I got all kinds of weird email from people who are Googling that name. Mr. J, you see, had a famous father in the sportswriting biz. So for now, I'll just stick with calling a K a J.
Mr. J's book was received with vast enthusiasm at the publishing house. He had the lightest edit I've ever seen on a full-length manuscript. The press is going to put photographs at the head of each chapter. Okay, I know the guy is my husband, but I think this book is going to sell.
While Mr. J was visiting with the editor in New York, he mentioned that I had written a novel.
Yes, I did do this, about a hundred years ago. I even had a small press willing to print it, until the economic downturn put an end to small presses everywhere.
Long story short, Mr. J's editor said he'd pass it along to the editors of my sort of fiction at the publishing house. The publishing house is St. Martin's Press.
It is extremely difficult to get a novel into print these days, unless you're James Patterson or a good friend of Oprah's. Apparently two editors will be looking at mine, weighing it in the profit-vs.-loss balance, and getting back to me.
At this equinox, I would like to think my chances are 50-50. Or maybe there's a bored goddess of writing out there who wants to give me a boost.
Beam me some luck. It's a good book, and writing it was one of the highlights of my life.