erika, Susan has an infant in the house. Don't tempt fate.

Susan, you can write. And you have completed a book, something most of us do a lot of talking and thinkin about. And you've started a second, and are reworking the first. You not only can write, you do write, and I suspect you have to write. I am so sorry for the rejections and the delays. I think the writer of that second letter must have been pretty impressed with your work, to take the time to write it. Encouragement to you.

Of course we'd Xpost about projectile vomiting. Help! I've been typecast in aisle two.

Reading between the lines of the second one, it's clear that the agent believes your book is worthwhile, but doesn't think it will sell in a bad market -- it's not you who is failing, the market isn't there at this time. Which may or may not be true.

Susan, insent to your profile addy.

Beverly, would you mind resending to my gmail address? My profile addy seems to have gone wonky today--no sign of your message, and I didn't get one deb sent last night either.

I thought about that after I hit post...um, without a rain of toads? Hang in there, Susan.

Ok, just got back online. Will resend as soon as I re-find the sent message. Heh. May have to reconstruct. Working.

Okay, it's disappeared into the ether. Basically, it was just a keep your chin up-don't let the bastards get you down sort of thing. Which I entirely mean, but I can't accurately reconstruct, the moment's passed. But yeah. I believe in you, and I take a sort of sisterly pride in your perserverance.

Thanks, Beverly!

I'm feeling a bit better this morning. Nothing like your first proper 7-hour sleep in over a week to restore humanity and courage. But I am bothered by the incessant buzz on how the historical romance is in trouble. And I'm especially bothered that the publisher reaction seems to be, "Let's turn out even more imitations of what already works," instead of, "I wonder if the readers would like more variety and some fresh voices."

Well, keep your chin up, and don't let the bastards get you down. Um, or words to, you know, that effect.

In other news, I have had to cancel my residency at Weymouth this week. At least two, possibly three, of my writers group is going tomorrow, staying through Friday. The weather promises to be glorious, and my mind's eye can see the heron fountain and the formal gardens from the wavy-glass windows of "my" room. However, my MIL is having surgery this week and has asked me to stay with her for a few days. As there's no one else she can ask, I feel I must, as well as being pleased that she asked and that I can do something for her.

On the other hand, she's an overactive control freak sort of person, so there are personal trepidations about my stay. Thank dog my BIL has internet access there for his visits from NYC, even if it is dialup.

My mom and her friends aare big fans of historical romances, Susan. Keep plugging. Your time, it will come.