Greetings, KuKd Strong Mommas and Inquisitive Guests!
A few of you have asked me for news flashes on this and that, so here you go.
1) Book - I am finally crafting a query packet to send to some publishers and agents. Eeeeeek! Somebody pass the Tums! This book became a sprawling (albeit cathartic) monster of a project, once I realized that, oh yeah - I actually have to somehow articulate a theme for my book! That is, my book has to actually be about something other than my own neurotic cancernoia! Imagine that. I think I've got some themes laid out, but still, rejection looms large.
I can picture exactly how it happens: a thick envelope containing my first five chapters lands on a tired agent's desk at 5:00pm while he or she is just getting ready to go meet friends for happy hour. He or she opens it up, sees the word "miscarriage" in the middle of a paragraph, and goes oh no. Another sappy survivor story. Boo fucking hoo. That's it. And then a gigantic leaden mallet with "YOU'RE A LOSER" comes down hard and goes BOOM really loud, I can hear it echoing all the way from that agent's swank office in uptown Manhattan. I'm already bracing myself.
2) Genes + stress = tooth grinding, and yes, I'm still doing it. I grind even during the day (not THAT kind of grinding, puh-leez!), as I've caught myself doing, usually when thinking about fertawindows and such. The last time I went in, the dentist stuck something in my mouth without warning and shaved some peaks off my right molar, making burnt-tooth-smelling smoke come out of my mouth. I personally thought it was: a) really mean to do that without telling me first; and b) counterintuitive to wear down an already-worn-down molar in hopes of somehow curbing the grinding effects. I've been meaning to look up her dental credentials online but haven't gotten to it yet.
3) Dark elixer - back on it full swing. Even brought an espresso machine to work, as if THAT isn't setting myself up for failure. Oh well; life is short.
4) No, I am not pregnant. You'll be the first to know if I am. Well, not really, but you'll be number ten or eleven at least.