Just spent the bulk of my inheritance, which I have yet to inherit, because, as mentioned in my last post, Chicago girls are tough (joke, Mom, joke).* Where was I? Oh yes, I have just spent all the money I could ever hope to make on royalties, on three writers conferences, so I’d get a chance to make royalties.

*I doubt Mom will read this. At the moment she thinks she lives on a boat.

Definition of an excellent 24 hours: killing it (pun only sort of intended) with our mystery in Lincroft, pizza in Freehold (sorry NYC, but NJ pizza is way better. Chicago pizza is the best, of course*). Then an email from my excellent teacher/editor saying there were ‘no major problems’ with the last 3,000 words I sent her. Almost as good as saying, “It was brilliant, shimmering prose.”

*Do not argue with me on this one. Never argue with a Chicago girl. We are tough.

Especially when it’s so you can watch the Nats clinch the Eastern Division title.

*That was figurative, you silly. I stopped using cursive even before nobody knew what ‘cursive’ meant.

So I’m now in the editing process with a second novel, and I keep thinking “Wow, this is way better than the other (finished) one! Why didn’t I finish this one first?” Can hardly wait until I start editing the third one…OY

Are five blog posts a week too many? No, don’t answer, unless, of course, you mean that I’m putting too much stress on myself.*

*Trust me, it’s not stressful, it’s self-indulgent.

I once went out with John Travolta, but it was only because he needed a date for an opening night party. Also, he wasn’t famous yet, and he was very young and didn’t know better.

OK, I admit it. There is absolutely nothing about dominoes in this post, but I was correct in assuming that the word ‘dominoes’ does bring visitors to my humble site, visitors who probably now deeply resent me. 

On to the actual content. Yesterday morning I was going through one of those “My writing sucks and if it does get published, it will be posthumously” phases. Then my teacher/editor said she ‘likes the voice’ in the first three chapters of my second novel, and I was suddenly overcome with joy. I am so easy.*

* Not that way, you silly. I am extremely square that way.

I write two different kinds of manuscripts; the ones I’m so insecure about I’m afraid everyone else will think they’re boring, and the ones I love so much I don’t realize everyone else will think they’re boring.*

*And don’t tell me I’m being neurotic. I KNOW that. You should have seen me before I had ten years of therapy (no, really). Also don’t tell me you can’t see me now. It’s a figure of speech, ok?

Trying to condense 287 pages into a 1 page synopsis is making my brain hurt.

Today I successfully performed my first Lookectomy, a very delicate operation by which I was able to remove 50% of the words,’look,’ ‘looked’, ‘looking,’ etc., without damaging the rest of my manuscript. This is no mean feat*, as anyone who ever tried to find an appropriate synonym will tell you. I also managed to get rid of a whole bunch of ‘Ok’s’ a far less challenging task.

*Why are feat always so mean? Do you think a Snickers would help?