I gather I have been rather down at the mouth here, which is an unfortunate by-product of being really down in real life. You see, and it’s something I’m okay with, I don’t mask things here. I mean, I do, I don’t spill every time I fall off the Q-Tip wagon, or get excited because I cleaned the stairs and the baseboards yesterday (honestly, I had a dewy glow for at least 10 minutes afterward), but I do like to mention state of mind.

So. My state of mind is marginally better. I had an epiphany regarding the already-finished, at-the-agent’s book, which I’ll be working on in the next few days. I realized that I cannot sell books if I do not write them, nor can I get rid of pesky pounds if I do not exercise. Ergo, logic dictates I write and exercise, two of my ‘Take Care of Megan’ things to do anyway, especially helpful when life seems bleak.

And I dreamt about Clive last night. Le sigh.

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.

Visit Marianne Mancusi and Liz Maverick to see me in pure idiocy. And to see very nice pix of MM, LM, EKM and Leanna, whose birthday we were celebrating.

I don’t feel so bad anymore, though, ’cause of your nice comments, and the ebbing of time (Cindy, the story about your friend asking for more is just mind-boggling. WTF? I don’t think I’ve ever been so rude).

I sent my agent the partial of Road to Desire/On Bold Adventure on Sunday; we’ll see what she says. It’s much more traditional romance-y than That Subtle Knot/Road to Passion, but it’s still edgy.

I started reading Lover Enshrined yesterday. Already love it, already have rolled my eyes in several places. Isn’t that what a guilty pleasure is all about?

I just turned in the edits for Road To Passion to my agent (!); for Road To Desire, I’ll be making a playlist, plus a collage, if I can figure out how to do it on my Mac. Meanwhile, and not that you were thinking you’d go hunt these songs down, this is my Road To Passion playlist. It goes in progression from Alasdair’s initial mood–tortured, drug-fueld despair epitomized by the Birthday Party, on down to the hope he feels after meeting Mary, then onto the sex stuff, then the inevitable worries (Use Me), onto the acceptance of love and sacrifice.

Release The Bats The Birthday Party
Do The Du A Certain Ratio
Last Good Day Of The Year Cousteau
Talking To Myself Cousteau
I Don’t Know What It Is Rufus Wainwright
Me And Giuliani Down By The Schoolyard (A True Story) !!!
Shack Up A Certain Ratio
Use Me Bill Withers
Whatcha See Is Whatcha Get The Dramatics
I Got The Feelin’ James Brown
Erotic City Prince
Home Zero 7

At last! I am actually touching words that are my own (which sounds kinda weird, actually). I am editing to provide CLARITY and CONTINUITY*. And to make sure not as many people throw my book against the wall if it indeed gets sold, published and distributed.

I am still reading the same book I started a week ago. It’s odd not to be plowing through books. The rotten side-effect of a busy life.

Oh, and have I mentioned I am now averaging two pots of coffee, one pot of tea, and one can of diet Coke a day? Is it possible for one’s bloodstream to be made entirely of caffeine?

Megan

*My own interpretation of my agent’s notes. She was more specific, and not as generally damning. Yeah, welcome to my inner life.

I got my Mother’s Day nap, yay, and a hanger steak and key lime pie and this beer, a collaboration between Brooklyn Brewery and Schneider-Weisse (weiss beer is my favorite). I haven’t drunk it yet, it’s waiting for me. Like a golden liquid beckoning in the vista.

I got the first of some revision feedback today, so I can dive into Road to Passion and get working.

I called my mom on Friday, she STILL hasn’t called me back, so I didn’t bother trying on Sunday–I think that makes me a bad daughter, for sure, but honestly? A mother who doesn’t call her daughter back? Close to Mother’s Day, when her daughter is a mother? Pardon me for being pettish.

This weekend I wore the Goal Diet Jeans, the ones that I promised I wouldn’t wear until I could wear them comfortably. And now I can! I’ve lost about ten pounds, and want to go down a little bit more, so those jeans are loose and stuff. I guess moving, stress, lack of sleep, stress, panic, etc. does have its benefits.

The Shiny New Agent is sending a revision letter my way, which means my OCD refuses to let me start writing Road To Desire until Road To Passion has a delightfully chic fork stuck in it.

Now that I have the space in my office (!), however, I think I’m gonna do one of those collage-y things with pix of hero and heroine and baddie from RTD so I’m all set to go when RTP is done. Updates on if that works for me, or if it’s just a timesuck, later on.

Meanwhile, Happy Mom’s Day!

Posting a smidge early, but I am getting up exceedingly early to head to New England. So off to the Riskies you go!

This dreary, raw, cold, nasty day, I’m over at the Riskies talking smack about my heroine.

I told the P-I-C, Kwana, that I would rather write another book than write a synopsis. And it’s true.

I realized that before I send out the three chapters of Road To Passion, I have to write a synopsis for it. I HATE them with a fervent passion usually reserved for A-Ha, Frankie Valli, mussels, Crocs, Uggs, toe socks, dog-eared pages and Tom Cruise.

Gak. The P-I-C says she wants it by tomorrow. This is why I love my friends.

Megan