(I just shared it with my mom. Cause it describes them too!)

::Has happy memories of Ginger's books::

Guess who just went into what was supposed to be strictly a group Q&A at a writers conference with an editor from one of her target houses, no pitching allowed...and it ended up with the editor strolling in, asking how this thing was supposed to work, and then having everyone pitch their books.

Guess who had five minutes to talk, and hadn't prepared anything beyond her 25-word elevator pitch, because she wasn't expecting to pitch, as such, just to try to connect with the editor.

Guess who fleshed out her pitch on the fly, and had time at the end to answer the editor's questions about her background, what gave her the idea, and the logic of her alternate history. (And, incidentally, guess who was surprised when the editor knew what she was talking about when she explained the importance of the Battle of the Nile in real-reality.)

Guess who somehow managed to get a request for a partial out of all that improv...

Awright Susan!

Go, Susan!

I have to say, groups were always a nightmare for me as an editor. All those faces! And I never knew how to handle it. A lot of the time I did exactly what she did and said, "Take turns and let 'er rip." Because, honestly, you know that what's the authors would like to do anyway.

Yay! It's possible that you were better off winging it. I often am, because otherwise I tend to overthink things.

It's possible. I certainly didn't let myself get bogged down in the intricacies of the plot. I considered giving a brief synopsis, figured I'd stumble into overexplaining, and stuck to stating the premise and a bit about the role and motivations for Wellesley as my central protagonist. Then I looked at him expectantly, and he started asking questions. It was pretty clear he was trying to tell if I knew my stuff historically and had thought my AU premise through, and I'm confident I came out OK on that front.

Time to venture into the wilds of Portland in search of dinner...

Go, Susan! I think better things happen out of sheer luck, than anything we can plan. We don't have to worry about expectations not being met, when we didn't have any to begin with!

good for you, Susan!

Nice, Susan!

Ginger, I shared your poetry with my mom and she liked it a lot. THEN, she adapted it to apply to my brother. I hope you don't mind.

Adapted from a poem by Ginger

Car Parts

The new shelves are measured, they're empty and neat.
They're measured in inches, they're measured in feet.
The movers have measured in boxes and pounds,
But car parts still pile up in undignified mounds.
They capture the table,
They conquer the floor.
They have to be shifted to open the door.
From now on I'll be good, I'll learn to be tough.
A garage lined with metal shelves is surely enough.
One engine, two clutches, three boxes from parts fairs.
Car parts climb off the shelves and head for the stairs.
Though I’ve looked and I’ve looked,
There’s one thing that's certain:
The most needed part this job requires,
Cannot even be found in my mountain of tires!

(It totally cracked me up. He is to car parts what the rest of my family is to books.)