I’ve recently made a couple of story sales that I can’t officially announce yet — one because the contract is pending but the other because I promised the publisher that I’d hold tight until they make their public announcement of the TOC.

The latter is interesting because the main character of the story is a fashion journalist. The day after I signed the contract, I received for free and totally out of nowhere a copy of the fashion magazine, New York Look. I don’t ever name the designer diva who appears in my story, but from a quick browse of the glossy pages I can see one or two designers who could have been the inspiration for her. For a woman with no name, she’s one of the strongest characters I’ve ever created.

Meanwhile, we just got back from seeing the Israeli magical realism film, Jellyfish. For some reason I have a very hard time watching a film where the main character is badly dressed and slovenly. It’s visual nails on the chalkboard. So I had to watch the film through a prolonged wince as I watched the main character droop, wrinkle, muss and mope all over the place. The actress character wasn’t any better with one lapel haphazardly tucked under her cardigan collar. Does no one in Tel-Aviv know how to dress? Although the little red-haired girl who walks out of the sea was absolutely amazing to watch, she couldn’t save the film from the dangers of being too much like a jellyfish — shapeless, transparent, and lacking direction. Many critics have referred to it as “moving,” but I didn’t feel a thing watching it. (On the other hand, the trailer for Live and Become nearly killed me.)

For what it’s worth, The Frenchman completely disagrees with me. But I won’t kick him out of bed for it.