Enough with the moping already
About submitting and The Beagle Diaries, continued.
Emerging from hiatus has taken eons longer than I thought it would.
Many years ago, the very brilliant Francine Prose said that for every day you spend away from something (ie writing) it will take you that much longer to go back to it. And part of me knows that she is right.
At the beginning of this year, compounding my dazzling proclivity for laziness, I had a pesky case of pneumonia which just wouldn’t quit. It lasted a good month. It was then followed by a cough that girls like Mimi in La Boheme end up dying from. Even attempting a podcast was unthinkable.
But Reader, I am pleased to report that I didn’t die!
Now, half a year later, the voice has restored itself. I’ve resumed listening to high energy folks describing how to get an agent and getting a book deal and so slowly, slowly, I’m getting it together. As for Marigold, my work in progress, there was a brief wading into the waters of rejection. Now, I’m resolved to swim in it.
Those of you who’ve been in the querying trenches, I humbly salute what you’ve been through, and for those who’ve come out the other side with offers of representation, or indeed, publication- even without an agent, I really salute you.
For me, the submission thing is so unnerving, that I’ve even considered throwing in the towel and becoming a tidy person instead. But I’m not ready to become a tidy person.
I’ll have to keep writing and just start submitting.
From the Beagle Diaries:
If you look at the left -hand corner of this photo, you’ll see a sprayer on the mantlepiece. Written in sharpie is the name Lucy. All that’s inside is water. No one likes a scolding with squirts of water. Thus, the sprayer lives -poised for readiness- on the mantle. Because our home life is pretty conflict free, I rarely use it. But, if Lucy is particularly belligerent, I’ll say, “Where’s that sprayer?” Forgetting that it’s at the mantle, immortalized every time I take a picture of my beloved hound sitting on the ottoman.
Being the teen Beagle that she is, Lucy keeps us on our toes. Being the anxious parents we pretend not to be, she now sports a GPS, that tells us where she is should she give us the slip. It’s helped a lot, but it is a little bit absurd. Yet the incessant barrage of media and outrage with which we’ve been inundated has rendered so much of life caught between complete absurdity and a breathtaking darkness.
At least, there’s always, always a choice as to which way we’re going to lean.
Angry Dead Women New and Improved is coming soon, on a social media platform near you.



I love your writing. The absurdity and breathtaking darkness rings so true.
Being tidy is overrated. I don't know how I know that, but I do.