Mal ,'Our Mrs. Reynolds'
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
I'll just leave him to the girlie that gets "monogamy" and "monotony" mixed up.
"I'm not spending another night with a woman whose favourite colour is beige." Incredibly Hot Scots Detective Andy in Minette Walters' perfect first mystery thriller, "The Ice House".
Also, in terms of punctuation, who is it who always yells "Fragments! There are too many sentence fragments!"
Huh? Huh?
I thought that was foreplay. Dang, I do that wrong, too? This is so not my week.
(suhNEEEEEEERK!)
Ha, ha. Well, at least somebody profits from my pain.
Deb: insent
I may have gone completely mad.
Yesterday I agreed to be the editor-agent chair for my RWA chapter's annual conference. The madness part is that for now I'm really excited about it. Basically, the job is to track down an appropriate and varied assortment of editors and agents (ideally 3 apiece), get them to agree to participate, and be their liaison throughout the process. Unfortunately I'm not allowed to stack the panel only with people interested in purchasing historicals that are non-fluffy, even slightly dark, but I'ma do my best to get at least one or two from my target list.
Go, Susan, with the mad networking skilz!
New drabble topic, delayed 1 day due to excessive holiday family-ness! (Sorry.)
Challenge #37 (talismans) is now closed.
Challenge #38 is falling. Take that any way you like -- falling off a log, falling in love, even those old "Fall into the Gap" commercials.
Panic Attack (falling drabble: 100 words):
When it grips me, it is sudden and total. One moment I am feeling fine--a bit off, maybe, but fine--and the next I am plummeting down hard and fast. My heart rate soars, my palms sweat, I lose my breath and my ability to reason and rationalize--I am swept down on waves of panic, of fear, of loss, of utter helplessness. My body is still, my hands clenched futilely in the blankets, but my mind is falling, falling, falling, and the only thing I fear more than the falling is the sweaty-toothed terrors waiting on the bottom.
At first, I felt bad that my article might be late, right? But I'm now upset with the editor because what part of "You sent it, but somehow I don't have it, so couldn't read and follow comments I couldn't open?" is hard to understand? Hello?