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DwarfWillow of Bloom
Jun. 26th, 2018 10:26 pmThe mystery of my mother's care continues, as Mr. Science exchanges polite emails with the facility administrator, declining another phone call and reiterating our desire for a response in writing. Tonight, when I talked to Mother, the pressure stocking was ON. Perhaps that was one good result of this email exchange. Who knows.
Just around the corner from our neighborhood, there's a very fancy street with houses on it that cost up to a million dollars. Maybe even a little more. They don't look that fancy from the outside, but apparently they are. The street cuts through from our neighborhood to The Village, and the park by the small lake where I like to hang out. There's no sidewalk, but the fancy-house people at some point created a narrow asphalt walkway, probably to aid in walking their fancy dogs, so people like me can enjoy walking down their street to the The Village, about a mile away. I have to cross a couple of fairly busy streets to get there, but there are lights, so it's not hard to do. The Village has a very nice smallish fireworks display every year, over the lake. The city has a giant one downtown, but it's more work to go there. I used to walk over to the Village quickly and easily, before my joints started acting up so much and when I was in better shape. I really want to go to the fireworks this year, but I was worried that it would be too hard to walk over there. So, this morning I thought I'd take a walk before it got too hot. I can't say it was completely easy, but I managed quite well, there and back, so yay! I see fireworks in our future. We could, of course, drive, but that spoils the pleasure of going somewhere in the neighborhood and not having to be in traffic.
Later, I finally got some writing done on the Angel Bait sequel. I came up with a way to start it, and had to try it before it got away from me. Then I made the mistake of re-reading my synopsis. I should send it to some more agents. I'm a terrible writer of synopses. It always makes me start thinking maybe I'm a terrible writer, period. Then I read the website of an agent I was thinking of sending it to. She gave a lot of rather peremptory information about how to write a query letter, making it sound to me as if the writer were a naughty child in need of firm discipline. And she said that the normal time to wait for a reply was three months. Sigh. That seems a bit excessive to me, but it's how things are these days. At least this agency apparently will actually reject you, after the appropriate time of waiting, instead of just leaving you to twist in the wind till you get tired of it. I come away from the professional side of writing with one thought in mind: I NEED CAKE.
Just around the corner from our neighborhood, there's a very fancy street with houses on it that cost up to a million dollars. Maybe even a little more. They don't look that fancy from the outside, but apparently they are. The street cuts through from our neighborhood to The Village, and the park by the small lake where I like to hang out. There's no sidewalk, but the fancy-house people at some point created a narrow asphalt walkway, probably to aid in walking their fancy dogs, so people like me can enjoy walking down their street to the The Village, about a mile away. I have to cross a couple of fairly busy streets to get there, but there are lights, so it's not hard to do. The Village has a very nice smallish fireworks display every year, over the lake. The city has a giant one downtown, but it's more work to go there. I used to walk over to the Village quickly and easily, before my joints started acting up so much and when I was in better shape. I really want to go to the fireworks this year, but I was worried that it would be too hard to walk over there. So, this morning I thought I'd take a walk before it got too hot. I can't say it was completely easy, but I managed quite well, there and back, so yay! I see fireworks in our future. We could, of course, drive, but that spoils the pleasure of going somewhere in the neighborhood and not having to be in traffic.
Later, I finally got some writing done on the Angel Bait sequel. I came up with a way to start it, and had to try it before it got away from me. Then I made the mistake of re-reading my synopsis. I should send it to some more agents. I'm a terrible writer of synopses. It always makes me start thinking maybe I'm a terrible writer, period. Then I read the website of an agent I was thinking of sending it to. She gave a lot of rather peremptory information about how to write a query letter, making it sound to me as if the writer were a naughty child in need of firm discipline. And she said that the normal time to wait for a reply was three months. Sigh. That seems a bit excessive to me, but it's how things are these days. At least this agency apparently will actually reject you, after the appropriate time of waiting, instead of just leaving you to twist in the wind till you get tired of it. I come away from the professional side of writing with one thought in mind: I NEED CAKE.
