Article in weekend WSJ today about how writers are getting book contracts for grinding out stories using Jane Austen characters, TV characters (eg. House), Star Wars, Harry Potter, all popular characters from the media. Gee, that's really cool is you want to write derivative stuff about characters someone else has already invented.
Sound of a huge sucking up.
Post in Miss Snark (you do know about Miss Snark, don't you? If not, google her) about what bad form it is to approach an author with the idea of getting a recommendation to an agent. Or asking author to read your drivel. Or pitching to agent during social times. Quite frankly, I have given up ever having a published author actually recommend my work to anyone, even their dog. Reputedly it happens, but it doesn't happen to me. Midlist authors are scrambling to keep their own stuff in print. Speaking of dogs, it's goddam dog eat dog out there. I have had generous writers introduce me to agents. They were gracious, and I won't forget such kindness and generosity, even if it came to naught, which it what it did.
So no Jane Austen, House, or what have you here from my pen.
Today I wrote a five page synopsis of Promiscuous Mode. Came out better than I thought it would. A little polishing, add a few choice quote and it will be ready for prime time or the two agents who wanted a "complete synopsis," not the one-two page view from forty thousand feet.
Now I am going to try to find something to watch on Television, always a dicey business. We had seared scallops with brussels sprouts and bacon for dinner. A New England winner. I worked in the garden and put the hummingbird feeder back up. The little dickenses are still here. I do like those tiny critters. Maggie, the old Scottish Highland cow is still vastly preggers with calf. All the news thats fit to print.