It sure sucks to live here. Bleh.
I'm having way too much fun with this. I remember all the mistakes I made when we first moved out into the country very well. You know the stuff I'm talking about, the stuff I started blogging about, with mouse nests in the ceiling, and goat escapes, dog escapes, sanity escapes ... the good old days that just won't stop happening to me. The question my kids keep asking is how close to the present will I write into this? I have no idea. I keep getting new material every day, like my ongoing obsession with January gardening, which is somewhat reminiscent of my late evening gardening where I contemplated gardening by torchlight to extend my gardening day.
I'll write until I find a good stopping point, I guess.
Latest Kami-brained scheme--raising chicks in my mini-greenhouse on the deck. I'll let you know how it goes. It could be full of awesome, or fail to the max. Either way, I suspect that little greenhouse will never be the same again.
Heck yeah chickens will go into the book. The House of Goats just wouldn't be complete without The Smartest Chicken in the World.
Some links to peruse:
Scott William Carter has started a new blog series about writing.
Dean Wesley Smith writes about agent agreements.
Hard-Boiled Mystery Writer Robert B. Parker, RIP--died with his boots on (at his desk)
FYI, on Dean's page, you'll notice that the Agents Know Markets myth post has 96 (or more by now) comments on it. Good stuff.
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