Heh. I'm the youngest by a lightyear, so I watched the dynamic with a canny eye.

Heading offline for a bit, but before I do, I want to share: my Gallery page at Readerville has been updated (how do I love thee, karen Templer, let me count the incredible number of ways) with a nice teasing excerpt from Famous Flower.

The Prologue, in fact. Happy me.

Cool!

I just discovered that both of my Lois & Clark stories are still findable online, and received occasional reviews and nominations for awards long after I left the fandom. The internet really is forever.

Popping back in because I have just got the best kind of feedback: a good review from Publishers Weekly.

gawdDAMN, I was worried about this one. But here it is:

More ghost story than crime caper, Grabien's second novel to mix historical sleuthing and old English ballads makes good use of its source material. As in The Weaver and the Factory Maid (2003), theater producer Penny Wintercraft-Hawkes and her boyfriend, Ringan Laine, a folklorist and restorer of period buildings, combine their separate passions with a not always welcome affinity for legendary ghosts. The unexpected inheritance of an abandoned London theater from a practically unknown aunt allows Penny to give her company the luxury of a home base. The aunt not only left her the theater but thoughtfully supplied funds to restore it. Unfortunately, the theater is home to an active and vindictive female ghost, whose presence is forcefully announced even before Ringan can begin renovations. In order to lay the ghost to rest, the well-matched Penny and Ringan must discover who she is and what happened to her. Effective storytelling gives the ghost's manifestations a gloss of credibility, while Grabien's grasp of theater, folklore and history provides a feast of enjoyment. Agent, Jennifer Jackson at Donald Maass.

Man, short of a star? Couldn't be happier.

That's wonderful!

Really relieved. I had no idea how tense I was about this one.

So what if the conversation's moved on, my ISP was down yesterday.

Editing as you write. I generally do edit as I write, especially on fic that's getting "published" before the whole story's done. I can't leave grammatical or word choice problems alone, because I know I made the mistake, and it sits there like a big hunk of garbage in the middle of the floor as I'm trying to create something better all around it. Much simpler to swoop down and grab the thing and fix it so it's not continually distracting me.

Susan, re: bitchy Portia: I had the same thought regarding critiquing clothes choices, but I was thinking more on the line of "Really, dear, I'm simply amazed at how well that color works on you. I would never have thought it would work. And what a unique choice of ornaments." Just enough to make Lucy start double checking herself--unless she's on to Portia's games.

It depends on the nature of your virus.

Right. Also, you might want to be parsimonious about how many different results happen from this one virus. It's possible to create an array of symptoms, that are all related to one underlying cause (e.g., Dostoevsky Syndrome, with the pixie face and the hyperverbal abilities, goes back to a flaw on one gene that happens to affect both facial bones and brain structure). But too many mutations at once will result in miscarriage.

Actually, as harbingers of a germ cell virus go, a spike in the rate of miscarriage is a pretty good one.

On the Portia/Lucy dynamic, maybe the answer is for Portia to be bossing Lucy around on the dress's design/colors? Like, that fake-nice "Oh, no, sweetie, I know best and will pick something for you that you would never be able to pick yourself." Especially if Portia is the avowed visual artist of the pair, Lucy might defer to her despite the snottiness of the tone, or be unable to object without sounding ungrateful.

Wish me chutzpah, you guys...cause I'm gonna be in the same room with Diana Kerry tonight and I want to have the guts to give her "my" Mouth(Not my mouth, although God knows I kiss well enough that Senator K. might have to rethink that marriage thing.;)) But I'm thinking it could be a real education for Mr. President...uh, the Senator to read some unvarnished disability stuff. And I'm thinking my showing up=photo op in a can. Might as well use it. If I don't chicken out. I could sign my piece, too.

Deb, that's a great review from PW.

Susan, I'm more familiar with novels of the latter half of the 19th century, but in those, the catty types were always saying things like, "You have such a ... healthy waistline" and suggesting fussy hairstyles for the heroines (who always looked best in simple styles, of course) and dresses and colors that would make the heroine look bad. The catty types also tend to say things like "That's such a timeless style, which is good because not everyone can have the latest things" and "Not everyone can pull off that color" in an extremely dubious tone.

Great review Deb!!