I forgot to mention last week that I submitted Chapter 1 of my book (#3 of course) to a new agent. I can't wait around forever for the formerly besotted agent to read my revisions (which I sent to her in November) and get back to me. Besides, she actively encouraged me to offer it around, and suggested no timeframe in which I might expect to hear from her, so it was starting to feel kind of foolish for me to keep that candle burning in the window. In case you read my blog every so often, but are starting to get a little tired of so much me, me, me - and Lord knows, I'm starting to get tired of it - I decided to start interviewing fellow unpublished, or published but unfamous, writers. For one thing, I don't know any famous writers to interview, and for another thing, if you like reading my blog, then you must be at least a little interested in what it's like to be a struggling author. So, keep watching for the interviews to start trickling in.
And one other thing. Valentine's Day. Today at work I posited the theory that it's a holiday invented from whole cloth by Hallmark, but my friend then sent me a link to prove me wrong. So, in case you were wondering: there may or may not have ever been a St. Valentine - there are at least three mutually exclusive legends about such a person - but if he did exist, boy was he a romantic. But even more interesting, to my warped mind, is the fact that, going back to Roman times, the middle of February marked the Lupercal. This lovely festival was celebrated by priests called Luperci slaughtering a goat, cutting its hide into strips, dipping the strips into its blood, and then going around town carrying these bloody strips and playfully whacking young, nubile maidens with them. So, you are probably wondering, did the maidens go into hiding as Lupercal approached and the festivities began? Au contraire, my friend. Evidently, they just couldn't get enough of being whacked with bloody goat hide, because, you see, being the lucky recipient meant that you were going to get married within the coming year. Oh, those crazy, crazy Romans! What a party crowd, huh? I am not making up one single word of this. If you don't believe me, look it up. And then, focus on the bright side: no matter how lousy your Valentine's Day might be, at least (I sincerely hope) no one is doing you a favor by assaulting you with the insides of a dead goat. See? Didn't that brighten your day? XXXXOOXOXOX