Whyfor the flail, sweetie? This is all good news, and we're all here as backup for the sample-chapter stuff.

Oh, I know. However, I'm still in the OMG a literary agent contacted meeeee! And thinks my stuff is publishable! stage.

Jilli! Can I borrow your flail...?

You do realize that it's a toy bat that makes squeaky noises, right?

I'll take it. I need to re-hook with a humongous shadowy ghost from my past. Anything resembling a flail would be of the good and all of mine are blunt objects that damage the floors.

sj, that kicks ass. I just hope the blonde said it loud enough for the crowd of little wannabitchbe's to hear.

Thanks. Yes, she did, that day and many many times after that. That was the day I met T. She nearly got suspended one time for bitching them all out in the school yard when I was out sick one day.

Nice Agent Lady e-mailed. She liked the chapter outline (and said that some of it made her laugh out loud). Next up, writing sample chapters, and bribing Pete for some more illustrations so we can create a couple of sample pages for my agent to show to editors. Meep!

Woo Hoo!!!

Deb, I am sorry that the publishers are being so evil.

My god, I feel so totally author-slacker. I feel proud of myself for getting a few paragraphs done in the fic, much less the original book.

No, This Really Doesn't Suck (100 words)

Bill Gates has never shared a plate of pot stickers with Juliana, basked in her devastating smile, nor walked by her side through the streets of North Beach, feeling the envious eyes of every man he passed.

Steve Jobs has never laughed himself hoarse at one of Deb's parties, nor felt Nic's strong arms around him when he thought everything was going to hell.

Wayne Gretzky has never woken up sandwiched between his wife and his very best friend. Actually, I don't know that for sure.

The 'in' crowd can kiss my ass -- I like my life just fine.

Aw... But I feel like I should be mad...I had a serious hate-on for life and humanity in general and Karl broke it. Mom, I'm telling! Karl messed up my bile! You're just always doing that...touching stuff that doesn't belong to you. Did I ask to be affirmed today? No, I didn't. You try to live your life awash in bitterness and petty jealousy, and then somebody comes along and...?! Smooth move, ExLax. Thank you.

Wayne Gretzky has never woken up sandwiched between his wife and his very best friend. Actually, I don't know that for sure.

I love this line so much.

I was just going to post the same thing, Plei.

deb, is naming the focus character in NSK "Rebecca" a Daphne du Maurier shout-out (what with Cornwall and all)?

Edited again. Got rid of the he said/she saids

Joining the In Crowd

What I noticed first was her kindly smile; it took a moment to spot the unyielding eyes in that Barbie doll face. I recognized her from her photos of course; that and the fact that no one else could see her was the only evidence that she had been dead for more than five years.

I forced myself to walk up to her, locket in hand. “I’ve been told this belongs to you.”

Her tone was completely friendly. “Then what are doing with it?”

Tendrils of cold crept up my arm. “Ben said you wanted me to have it. From the – incidents - lately, it seems he was misinformed.”

She stared at me a moment. “That Ben, what a card.” The chill intensified, then faded a fraction. “I was going to give you a severe - scolding. But it seems Ben is the one due a good - talking to.”

I held my ground; never give up a living soul to the dead. It’s a rule. “I don’t think Ben meant any real harm.” I kept all empasis from my tone.

“I can’t let this pass. But since you ask I won’t be so very - harsh. You could join me, you know. It happens to everyone sooner or later, and it is rather like joining a club. You gain all sorts of special knowledge”.

I don't think I showed anything but calm. “I’d just as soon pass.”

She held my gaze a minute. To my surprise she shivered a bit. “I won’t force the issue then. Nobody wants to join the - “In Crowd” - before they have to.”

Gar, I think it needs a bit more feeling and a bit less detachment, maybe. But on the right road.

Wayne Gretzky has never woken up sandwiched between his wife and his very best friend. Actually, I don't know that for sure.

BWAAAAAAAAH!

Besides, bro - Mr. Jobs has never been to one of my parties because he's never been invited. I don't like him much. Yes, we've met. I don't ask people I don't like to my parties; he struck me as a damp-handed jerk, frankly.

I only ask cool people to my parties. He isn't one. I'm a complete snob and my parties don't need dreary self-important bores. I only invite people I like.

edit: Raq, nope. I'd actually settled on Rebecca as her name when I was going to write her in to Bruton Town, the fifth book Jenn didn't sell SMP last January. Her name predates Cornwall in the series.