1. I am no longer sick. The Spouse seems to have caught it, though.

2. I am trying to write when I have a spare hour, like this one, so I’ll still not be so chatty here. Plus my life is as dull as it’s always been, so no news there.

3. I have 143 pages done of the current WIP. Yay! Likely heading towards 400 pps.

4. I like hockey now, thanks to HDTV and the Olympics. I cannot find a good pic of Ryan Miller, but I thought he was amazing.

5. Next weekend I might get to see the Delightful Phone Friend; seeing the Picky Vegetarian at the end of the month in Portland. SO EXCITED.

6. Still waiting to hear on a submission. Many digits crossed.

7. Okay, off to write. More later.

When my son was small, like four years old kind of small, he would say he was allergic to “cats, dogs and dingos.” We had no idea where the dingos thing came from, it’s not like his parents are Aussiephiles (although one of us is an Anglophile, guess who that one is?).

But now it is raining cats, dogs and dingos, and I have to go out in the weather, ugh, and do two errands.

Things are better than they were, but all kinds of stuff has been kicking my ass, so it’s been hard for me to focus. BUT the Delightful Phone Friend read the first 100 pages of the revision and said they were fabulous (that’s her word of choice, but she really meant it). Makes me want to do the remainder real quick.

Anyway. Off to buy things and listen to people and stay as dry as I can.

So the Delightful Phone Friend will mock (”Ratface!”), but I am experiencing a tremendous urge to watch North And South. Dunno why, it’s kinda like a tide coming into my body or something. It’s weird. At random moments, I’ll think “I MUST see it again!”

Only I haven’t done it yet. Huh. Maybe I am good at delayed gratification (and if so, tell that to the coupla handfuls of cashews I devoured earlier in the day).

Oh, and I wrote again today! Inching ever closer to 25,000 words, which is my stopping point so I can send it to the aforementioned DPF for feedback. Will then go work on festive paranormal idea.

Megan
*Now this is a total in-joke between me and my dad. And since Dad isn’t here anymore, it’s now a total in-joke with just me. Which means that I have officially crossed the line from zany to crazy. But I cannot read a compass, not for the life of me, and I cannot understand its point. Hence the compass joke.

So we haven’t done it in awhile, but last night, the Super-Smart Lawyer (you know, the one I made go to The International with me. Yes, she is still speaking to me. Yes, she does love me, why do you ask?) came over for dinner and a movie.

She brought this lovely Moscato d’Asti, so fizzy and sorta sweet, but not, and it was delish. Sometimes she brings dessert, too, but we are both dealing with excess winter avoirdupois, so she did not. Anyhoo.

Based on Netflix randomly saying, “hey, Megan, you’re a freak for anything British, and pre-20th century, howz about you check out this here movie?” I looked at Firelight, and it looked good, so I took a flyer.

It was really, really good!

Firelight is set in 1838 England, a dark, edgy, not standard romance featuring–I’d say landed gentry, the guy bred sheep and lived on an estate–and a poverty-stricken woman. They strike a deal for her to bear him a child because his wife is in a 10+ year coma.

But, you know, they see each other when the child is about six and, you know, romantic mayhem ensues.

It had a lot of unexpected twists and turns, and that’s saying a lot, I think, given that I am likely featured somewhere in Netflix’s archive as ‘that batty subscriber who never met a British film or actor she didn’t like’ (amongst others of you, you know who you are).

The romance gave me that deep, heart-rending poignancy that I feel in watching North & South, Persuasion and Pride And Prejudice. And I keep thinking about it, and how much I liked it.

It starred Sophie Marceau, who was in that execrable version of Anna Karenina with Sean Bean, and Stephen Dillane, who was also in AK, but not in the same version.

(Myretta, aka the Delightful Phone Friend, told me I’d like it, and she was right. Although I do wonder if she trusts my taste anymore because I said I liked the version of Jane Eyre with Ciaran Hinds. AND the MacFadyen/Knightley P&P.)

Tomorrow, I’ll be going Asian with Farewell, My Concubine. Can you tell the Knicks are at home this week, hence keeping the attention of the Knicks Season Subscriber Husband?

Tonight, like so many of you, we’ll be watching the Debate. Got nothing really to say on that one, except I am astonished to find myself so involved and passionate. I’ve always thought of myself–rather dismissively–as kind of laissez-faire. Not anymore.

I got good feedback from the Delightful Phone Friend regarding On Bold Adventure, which I’ve been working on consistently. Still no word from those editors to whom New Agent sent The Book Formerly Known as Road To Passion to; but at least I haven’t gotten resounding thumbs down.

So I must slog on. I’m not much of an optimist, but I am trying.

Megan

*with apologies to Elvis Costello.