The Frenchman and I have started watching this series. I just accidentally got a spoiler when reading a Salon article. Dammit! No more spoilers! We just saw Episode 7. There is much potential spoilage.
I have my ring back! It’s shiny and gorgeous like it was when I first got it. Maybe more so.
Meanwhile, I’m plugging away at getting out of here and writing at the same time. Oy! This afternoon I’m sending out “Though Thy Lips are Pale” to Chris Cervasco at Paradox. His reading period opens tomorrow. I do think this is the best fit, especially since he’s the first person I thought of when the story fell in my head at the Cluny.
As I was getting bounces from Slate’s submissions email address, I had an epiphany about the France article and immediately dug into it. It’s not only leaner by a thousand words, it’s much meaner. That thing comes out swinging now. We like that. I also realized that Mother Jones is an excellent place for such a thing. I’ve retitled it, “The Other France: Sex, Guns and the Sarkozy Presidency.” Titillating, ain’t it?
Hopefully I’ll be getting some news either way about a couple of other stories. We’re standing on the lip of June and no word yet from Matt about “Saturnalia” for his Holy Horrors anthology. No news is good news. And as for the story I sent Cemetery Dance…well…it’s been a year and a month. I know it passed the first reader and sits with Richard Chizmar. I can’t get an update for my life, so what’s a gal to do?
Back to the grindstone.