Hell is dipping precariously toward 32 F.

I know this because I'm holding an e-ticket confirmation for Jet Blue, destination LA. I swore I was never leaving NYC again after freezing to death in Boston last month AND having to forage for vittles cause a major water main break closed most of the eateries in the hotel's hood. (The fact that I found THREE wonderful potential clients assuaged my pain of course).

But here we are now heading toward BEA season, and BEA is in LA. If I could find an mp3 of a primal scream, I'd insert it here.

Fortunately Eric Stone has been kind enough to offer to fetch me from the Aerodrome. I hope he's bringing a portable bar. I'm bringing a stun gun; I've seen LA Story, I know what it's like out there in Lotusville.

However since Hell is now close to freezing over, I figured I'd better sharpen my skates. And maybe ...practice.

I love my job, I do!

One day a letter arrived in the mailbox. It was short and sweet and had an SASE. I read it. I replied. Over the course of the next month more chapters were requested and mailed. I read them with increasing urgency.

When I finished the book I knew I had to have it. I just HAD to have it. I called the author. She sounded a bit shell shocked. I convinced her I wasn't her sister having a joke, or her office colleagues teasing her.

When she signed the author representation contract she included a cover letter mentioning she was waltzing the cat around the kitchen with euphoria.

If I'd had a cat, I'd have waltzed it too.

To make a long story short, I sold the novel today, and god help that poor cat, cause we're, all three of us, pretty damn excited.

Here's the deal announcement on Publishers Lunch:

Kennedy Foster's STANDFAST, in which a rancher and a ranch hand come to love each other in the austere terrain of Eastern Washington; overcoming cultural misunderstandings, the threat of deportation, the looming menace of a lien holder, and the problems of a loving family, to Abby Zidle at Pocket, in a nice deal, for publication in July 2009, by Janet Reid at FinePrint Literary Management (World English).


That short announcement doesn't begin to tell you how fabulous this book is. I love it passionately. I can hardly wait for you all to get a chance to read it. Most of you are going to be shocked to learn that no one dies, no one catches fire, there's hardly any bad language, and godhelpus there's a romance and a happy ending. You KNOW it has to be good to charm a curmudgeon like me.

I love this book. I'm so happy...wait, who's got a cat I can waltz?

There I was at Borders...

The reason this is a bit blurry is cause I was quivering with happiness to see Jeff Somers' The Digital Plague so prominently displayed at Borders next to Penn Station. Yea baby indeed.

Dying to Win!

It used to be if you were dead you were only eligible to vote in Chicago, and only then if you were a Democrat.

Now Slate tells us that it's possible to be dead and still eligible to vote in several other places. There goes one of my favorite punch lines of all time. Damn.

Concetta Bertoldi's book Do Dead People Watch You Shower should have a follow up: The Dead Will Help You Win an Election! (Concetta's book was utterly charming even to a hoary crabby grumpy skeptic like me!)

It's been one of those days

One of my favorite people in the world sent me a picture from the Edgars. After I insisted he burn it, I took the copy he'd sent me, cropped myself out and told my dear slithery competitor Barbara Poelle I was going to post it on my blog.

Not too many minutes went by before this arrived:

Can you wait to post a picture of me where I don’t look like I am on a black tar heroin binge? How about instead, you post this photo of me having one of the easy days in publishing…


So, here it is.
Caption to be determined but I'm leaning toward:

"Next time we order take out sushi, I get to drive the helicopter"

Hey who's that blue sleeve in the corner?

There's a nice story in Galleycat about Orbit's expansion (yay) and a nice picture of Devi Pillai, Orbit's fabulous editor who spotted Jeff Somer's work in an online zine and made him the rich and famous pantsless author he is this very day.







<----If you look closely though, you'll see a wisp of a blue sleeve. That's Our Man Somers, now excised to the only thing that truly matters: his writing arm! Here's the picture before Jeff was cropped down to size:

But will he be wearing pants?

Jeff Somers is on the air tonight! The Joey Reynold show is on at 1am so technically it's tomorrow but you'll still want to stay up late and listen. Call in too!

I want to know why he feels compelled to annihilate my favorite city in The Electric Church and The Digital Plague. I mean really now, what the heck did little ol New York ever do to him!!

Why I will soon be living at Trump Tower

There are lots of ways to get a fancy address in New York City.
It never dawned on me that stealing the building was one of them.
I'm all over this. Change of address forms coming soon!.