Woo Hoo Deborah! Now may your agent get whatever the maximum bucks that are practical for this.

Gar, what I think we're going for is a draw against advance. Basically, an "expenses" sum - could be a thousand dollars, could be twenty five thousand - that I'd get upfront, to ensure I make something off the project, whether or not it sells.

Then when it sells - and it will, considering who he is and what the market it - the draw would be deducted from my share of the agreed-upon advance.

Also going to see about royalties and subrights.

Seriously? I want a gorgeous proposal ready for his people to hand an editor by Halloween, and that means me doing at least a third of the book by then.

Oh, my. This is a week for book stuff, apparently.

I just got an email from my friend Victoria Zackheim (she wrote a very good novel called "The Bone Weaver"). She'd asked if I wanted to participate in an anthology, about women dealing with illness or ageing in their lives, and how it affected their writing.

I said, hell yes, and sent in a one paragraph blurb for consideration: Deborah Grabien developed a fictional protagonist based on her first great love, who suffered from chronic illness. But it wasn't until her own midlife diagnosis of multiple sclerosis that she really understood what living with illness of her own is all about. I promptly forgot about it.

Just heard from Victoria, the anthology sold to Seal Press, and they want mine.

Hoo boy. Major serial, but not really....

Animate

It's wrapped in gauze, layer upon layer. It's been there a long time, hardening, petrifying, ossifying, layers. For thirty years, I've been afraid to touch it.

I'm touching it now. Somewhere under all that dust, all that hard sharp stuff that was once soft wrappings, easy songs around my heart, an arm around my shoulders whose faintest touch could turn my soul and body to butter, there are eyes, and a mystery.

Layers off, one by one. I find myself expecting flame-ruined eyes, blackened teeth, ugliness.

Instead, I find me, the mystery itself, end of story: I died in 1976.

Hooray for all the goodness coming Deb's way!

If this gets published, it may be the first mention of slash in a disability publication.

That would seriously rock.

Seriously, I'm kvelling because how often do you see "us" getting 'shipped with *anybody*? Well, okay, Louie DiPalma Learned A Lesson by dating a blind chick in a Very Special Taxi once. House's love life, gay or straight? Not gonna play out like that. That's a big deal. And it's not often that I'm watching somebody play disabled and not thinking things like "His posture's too perfect...her clothes are never rumpled! No fair.(Because oftentimes it can be difficult for me to maintain basic levels of "hevel" after all day...I can't be the only one!) But watching House use his cane to hold the door open feels completely real.

The book with Daymond is a go. Just got off the phone; he's having his office book me a flight to NY, early June.

Le WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

yay, Deb. Very cool.

WooHoo!!! Go deb!!

Wheeeeee! And I bet I know where you get to stay, you lucky duck.