Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award

In less than a week, I'll know whether World of Mirrors made the first Amazon cut. If it did, I'll be weaseling around and asking friends, fellow-writers and even my wonderful blog readers who are also Amazon customers (is anyone not an Amazon customer?) to sign in, read my first chapter and write a short review. And do tell the truth. If you think it sucks, I need to know that, too.

This is so demeaning, but of course even more demeaning is if the chapter tanked/and or cratered with the reviewer and was rejected. Right now my self-confidence if at the bottom of the storm sewer with last year's leaves and a few old mouse carcasses. You get the idea.

And I have a cold. I never catch colds. I am blaming it on not eating meat for 2 weeks, and missing all that good zinc and B-vitamins.

We had chicken cutlets with tomatos, capers and wine tonight, ripped right out of the food section of today's Boston Globe. Very tasty, and enough for tomorrow. The tomato and parseley looked so cheery, almost like Christmas was back. It's always a shock when everyone takes down the Christmas lights and the night is so dreary again.

Made reservations for Sleuthfest today, and I continue to tweak the beginning of Promiscuous Mode. I decided it didn't have enough tension and conflict for the beginning of a crime fiction novel. Why did I ever start writing crime fiction? I don't even much like to read it anymore, however, I still want to read Sue Grafton's latest. I don't get tired of her. And then there's poor old Proust who I've been dawdling over for 13 months and 772 pages.

My first readings of Proust, I totally missed all the humor. How is that possible? There is a lot of humor, not in the romantic love parts, but in his descriptions of the daily life of the family. Humor enlivens any kind of writing. Humor enlivens life.

Rant alert! Boston is a dirty town, sad to say. The "T" is dirty--people strew newspapers all over. Sullivan Square was filthy. The sidewalk was a continuous garbage can. Disgusting. We came here from Chicago which was, by comparison, squeaky clean. End of rant.

Another warm day, but rainy, and I didn't walk because of my blasted cold. It's almost worse than having a broken ankle. Onward.


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