Friday, March 27, 2020

The Little Things

At chez Too Many Cats, we're concentrating on the little things. Repotting plants, some of which have stowaways. (That's a frog in that pitcher plant. This is a problem because the pitcher plant will kill the frogs. We rescued this one, even though he didn't much want to be rescued.)  We're playing with felines, cooking, wiping down all the doorknobs and heavily used surfaces with disinfectants every day. We're taking more walks. The whole neighborhood is, it seems. I've seen more of my neighbors in the past few weeks than I've seen since moving in here over a year ago. The friendly quotient has gone way up. Everyone waves or calls hello, simply glad to have the access to other people, I suspect. We cross the street when we see one another coming so we can all keep that distance we're supposed to keep. 

And I write. At the moment, it's The Never Ending Synopsis from Hell. It's for a book that's finished. An agent has requested the full. Yay. It was a bit of a shocker because I hadn't realized I was subbing the MS when I participated in a workshop my local RWA chapter put on awhile ago. We sent in our first three pages of a story and it was critiqued by an editor or an agent. I honestly thought that was the end of it. So it surprised me a bit when I got an email asking for the full. Sure. No problem! I have the book right here -- aaand no synopsis. Woo. So that's what's on my mind. Little things. Story summaries. Frogs being digested by carnivorous plants. And, of course, here's what's on my lap. My coworker doesn't respect my personal space, much less social distancing.

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