They didn't say no! I queried an agent about the first novel I completed, because I realized I didn't have a clue who to approach with it (publisher wise) after THE BIG REJECTION. (Read this as "a good rejection, a rejection with lots of suggestions for improvement that none the less flayed the flesh from my bones. I wasn't kidding about needing to develop thicker skin.) I call it a paranormal mystery -- but that doesn't quite fit. And the only publishers I could find to approach on my own were e-type. And I want to see the thing in print. I want to hold the book in my hand. So, I thought that approaching an agent might be the way to go.

However, I still wasn't quite sure what to call it, genre-wise. I'm absolutely certain it's not a romance (although, if you dig hard enough, there are romantic elements there), it's not a comedy (either in the modern or classic sense -- although, there are bits and pieces that are pretty darned funny, and it does have a happy ending. Sort of.), and it's not a tragedy. So, I emailed and asked if they were interested in something I was calling a paranormal mystery. They got back to me the next day, and they didn't say no. So I sweat blood for two days trying to develop a teeny tiny synopsis that caught the flavour of a paranormal comedic murder mystery, with a touch of tragedy and romance thrown in for good measure. Put one together -- 267 words -- who knew I could actually pull that off? Not me, that's for sure! And I sent it off. Now I wait to see if they truly are interested enough in something I call a paranormal mystery to see the first three chapters.

And, I sent out the first query for my second novel. There, both novels out the door. No excuse for not starting the next one. (Hah! Queen of excuses here!)

Finished the character sketch of the bad guy for my next novel -- and understood how he could be vanquished as I wrote it. Yahoo for that! He was a bit of an enigma to me. I could see him physically, but it was hard to get into his soul and dig around. But, I did it. Took me longer than I thought, because I'm still fighting the "popular science fiction writer as teacher" thing. Didn't help when I got an email from the great man himself, welcoming me to the class. There are only 8 of us in this workshop, so it feels like microscope time. So I have avoided starting this novel by working on queries for the other ones. Not a bad bit of avoidance, since my plan is to have my work published, but... I should be putting words on paper for this novel, too.

Watched the first part of a BBC documentary called "The Power of Nightmares" a short while ago. Really amazing piece about how myths become reality, politically speaking, and the impact this has on the world. However, I wasn't able to watch the second half (happened the next night, and my daughter had a ball game. And I have priorities.) So I emailed CBC's documentary people, to find out if they were running it again. Found out that was the third time it had been run, so as far as CBC was concerned, I was out of luck. But, the kind person who answered my plaintive email said it could be found on the internet. So I dug around, and there it was. My husband and I now have a date one evening this week. We will make popcorn, chill beer, and then plop ourselves down in my office to watch all three episodes of the documentary. It can be found at www.informationclearinghouse.info/video1037.htm. (And sorry about no link. I couldn't make it work, nasty little error message, I'll keep playing and try to work it out.)

An old friend dropped back into my life after an absence of nearly 10 years. She came to Edmonton to visit her son -- and decided to look me up. (Looking me up can't really be done on a whim. I'm not easy to find. Trust me.) The first time we met was when my family had been banished to Ontario in the 80's. I'd gone to a writing workshop at a beautiful college that, under normal circumstances would not have allowed me in the front door, and saw a Delorian parked in the lot. I can remember laughing to myself and deciding I wanted to meet the person who owned that Delorian. That person was Anne Marie, and for the next few years, she and I were friends. Writing was our bond.

We lost track of each other, primarily, I believe, because I stepped away from writing. I was trying to put my life back together, and writing didn't fit for me at the time. But now, I'm writing again. And now, Anne Marie is back in my life. It used to be, if I thought about the coincidences and bits of synchronicity that happened in my life, I would get really creeped out about the whole thing. But lately this happens so often, I'm starting to believe there is something else going on. That we truly do attract those people we need and want into our lives. I don't know how we do it -- maybe it's by being clear enough about what we're going after, or something. Generally, I don't think about it much, past noting it and throwing a thanks out to the universe. It never hurts to be thankful. And it's pretty neat the way it works. (However, when you're on the other side, and attracting gawdawful people into your life, it doesn't seem quite so neat.)

I must start working on the new novel before it gets too hot to think. So it's farewell, until I get back here, with a word count. I promise!