Fifteen months, 362 pages and 94,457 words. The End.

Squee! I typed The End. Seriously, what other six letters with a space can give a writer that much pleasure?

Unscrew the Asti-Spumanti or Mountain Dew and Sharpie your name on a plastic party cup, because I just sent off my Badass Novel (BAN) to two First Readers.

Agreed, my manuscript is still  a little rough, a few typos left in just to see if the FRs really read the darn thing, but the bones are there, with a lot of muscle. A little fat.

Even if I never get this thing published, I've marked one big thing off my bucket list: Written the Big Badass Novel.

Laundry? Paint the kitchen? Mais non! I'm going to spend the next week working on my "I'm a Real Writer, Yes I Am" website because luckily that's what one of the things I do in real-life, before I get back to the edits from my First Readers.  Then off to query agents whilst enticing them with fresh baked snickerdoodles.  Didn't I read somewhere that agents love snickerdoodles? Maybe it's cupcakes.

But for now, join me. Pour yourself an Asti, douse a Ritz with extra Cheese Whiz; c'mon there's plenty for everyone.  Then sit back and let's enjoy the steam coming off the Dell.

It All Happens in the Thinktank

Writing takes a lot of time.  So does laundry.  And cooking.  And cleaning.



I suppose I should toss in a couple of "real job" hours in there as well.

And Finding Things, Lost and Hidden.  That takes a lot of time, too.

What I need is a laundry knight, a self-starter with a bright shining team to swoop in, and not only bring the dirty clothes down from their smelly spot in the hamper, but sort and wash them in my basement laundry dungeon-- the room unabashedly known as the thinktank of this Sparkly household.  Hopefully, once done folding, mister fancypants will slip on those shiny *metallic is so hot right now* thigh high boots he's tucked into the laundry basket (see photo) and bring everything upstairs.

Until my chain mail'd dude in lather appears, or until my Badass Novel is finished, the piles reach epic proportions. I wonder if this has anything to do with my sudden yen to climb Mount McKinley.  I'll bring my gear and scale the mess -- tomorrow.  After I finish one more chapter.