Last night I made up my mind I needed a Tumblr account. I really, really tried to conquer its many offerings. Then I realized that I’d filled up the last remaining space in the technology compartment in my brain.*

If I put anything more in, something else will fall out the back, e.g., how to use my Nespresso machine. One must have her priorities straight.

*If I had any left I’d use it to figure out how to make this blog look a less like a high school essay.

Starting work on a 4th novel when you’re not finished with revising the first three yet. Think of what an oeuvre I’ll have by the time the first one gets published!*

*Do not say anything snide. It would be too easy. Also, I would hurt you.

And I’m proud of myself, as I was running low on funds and shelf space. I finally broke down and bought A Sense of the Infinite in hard cover tonight at Politics and Prose  Hey, you have to support your local independent bookstore, right?

Because it’s supposed to be a mystery, but there’s no mystery until chapter 7, and, um, it’s not a very interesting one. I have read everything by Henning Mankell, so I know whereof I speak.*

*Also I’ve coauthored a few mysteries (scripts), and they are very mysterious, I think. At least they’re funny.

I can’t get to the bookstore*, not an unread novel in the house and I HAVE TO READ SOMETHING. My options seem to be Revolutionary War histories, biographies of composers, and Talmudic discourses. Where is David Sedaris when you need him?

*Yes, I know there are libraries. Can’t get there either. Also, I like to own books. That’s why I’m poor.

It has been at least a week since my secret admirer from Brazil  visited my blog. I suppose all good things must come to an end, but I hate losing my Sao Paolo fanbase.

I’m such a damn romantic. I wanted the guy to get the girl from page one, and he didn’t, which upset me, even though the ending made perfect sense and was more interesting. Tell us the name of the book, I hear you cry. Nu-uh, because then I would have to write Spoiler Alert.

It pairs writers with great concepts, but limited writing skills, with writers with great writing skills but not much imagination. Oh, wait, it’s already been done.* It’s called Celebrities and Ghostwriters ‘r Us.

*Not really

How did I not know about this wonderful book? It’s older than I am. I could have read it as a girl.* Maybe I wouldn’t have appreciated it then, though. I only learned to love Jane Austen as an adult.

*I was never a boy, so I didn’t have that option.

Fun fact: Dodie Smith, the author, also wrote The Hundred and One Dalmatians.

For those of you not familiar with it, it’s a website where nascent ( and some post-nascent) authors post there works to develop a fan base and/or edit. It’s a great editing tool. I use it for that purpose. But many of the posted stories are written by young women and girls and an occasional male. The writing is hideous and I can’t get past the first chapter. They may have several million followers, despite. But I digress.* The point is I found a delightful and well written novelette by an established author** and I read it twice.

*The eight or nine of you who regularly read this blog will note that I always do. At least I use asterisks.

**Her name is Colleen Hoover and the story is Finding Cinderella, and I’m not her agent or publisher, though I wish I were, even though I’m not an agent or a publisher.