One Slight Drawback to the Day’s Events

I just realized I’m going to have to start pitching in on some household chores. Drat!

Probably starting with some dishes. To put it mildly.

I also have completely stalled out on the quilt.

And I’m not sure if the last paragraph in the novel exactly works. It’s funny that Coble was right. I was feeling so good about it this weekend and then today I’m all “It sucks. It doesn’t even make any sense. Who would buy this piece of crap?” I mean, what genre is it even? It talks a lot about God and being a Methodist, but it’s not Christian. Supernatural things happen, but it’s not a supernatural thriller. Most stuff in the book happens in relatively rural settings.

Man, I have to hope that the “unsettled ministers’ kids” market is sizable or I don’t know.

It Worked

I texted the Butcher to ask him how his interview went and I didn’t hear anything and I didn’t hear anything and finally, just now, I got a text that said, simply, “Working now.” And I am crying like a baby. I feel like an enormous weight has been lifted off my shoulders, that I am not the sole breadwinner in the house any more.

These are such terrible years and I know we’re not alone in that regard.

It is hard out there, still. And I am glad he found something, finally.

In Place of Actual Blogging

I invite you to go read this creepy story instead. (Thanks to Elias for pointing me to it.)

Fingers Crossed and Book Stuff

I can’t even talk about the Butcher, I am so nervous for him. Please, please, send good luck thoughts his way.

As for the book, I’ve realized I’m going to need a diverse group of people to read through the rough draft when it’s done and that group must include a minister’s kid or two or three to make sure that stuff sounds right, a Methodist minister or knowledgeable lay person to make sure that stuff is right, and someone familiar with the logistics of anal sex in a small bathroom, bonus points if you’re familiar with anal sex with the Devil, additional bonus points if you’re familiar with anal sex with the Devil in a small bathroom, which, now that I write it out, I realize I want to be the name of my first single, when I become a folk musician. “Anal sex with the Devil in a small bathroom.” It’s a love song, obviously.

Anyway, here’s an important thing I’ve learned. Write a book you like, but don’t love. That way it’s enjoyable to spend a lot of time in it, but you can bear to fix shit.