If ever I miss the UK, I read things like this. And, before you say something about how reading the news should therefore make me balk to the US… it doesn’t. Because this is mine. The US, that is. There’s this whole song about it, come to think of it. That and I don’t nearly think of the US as being quite so… ridiculous. Just. Ridiculous.
So, I’ve been a bit absent and, boy, are my numbers suffering for it. Which. Is more your fault than mine. I personally am at a huge crossroads and, anyone who’s been there (and if you’re older than thirteen, you should know at least conceptually what I mean) knows that even when you know the direction you’re going to take, the fact that you reached that fork in the road is still very intense. And though because of my historian’s temperment, I initially feel that I should record absolutely everything for posterity, I slowly realize that my life is actually mine before it is shared. Sounds like a “duh” concept, but no.
I will however say that I sent out a query letter today! O-O And one not lubricated by the support of an insider, at that. And a funny thing happens. When I approach something differently, I tend to like it even more. Which makes me wonder if I just like the “new”. For one thing, I dislike paraphrasing because I, myself, know every little thing that’s been left out. All of which seems paramount, bien sur, because I am aware of its absence. (Yes, I am describing what bothers everyone, I’m sure.) And yet, once I pass that initial threshold and accept the huge and gaping omission, the next cut is usually not only fine but freeing.
Doo doo doo-do, doo da doo do.