|I don't write by hand on paper in the water without a shirt, but the alligator thing?|
Happens ALLTHETIME. It's kind of ridiculous.
This is one of those posts where I say, "Oh, hey there, let me tell you things!" and then you run away rather quickly, and I chase after you shouting, "I AM IN MY WRITING CAVE, WRITING WILDLY, AND HAVE NO TIME FOR FOOD OR DRINK OR SOCIAL INTERACTION ON THE INTERNETS," which of course is a lie, because a) I'm chasing after you telling you these things and b) while I am writing wildly, book 2 is wrapping up fairly well and I haven't even started to panic very much yet, much, yet, at all, much.
At least I think book 2 is wrapping up well.
I hope it is.
MY MOM LIKES IT OK. O_O
Annnyway. I'm feeling busy. A lot of things seem to be happening at the beginning of June this year.
First and coolest among them is Book Expo America. I'm not going, so technically it doesn't add to my busyness at all, but I'll be thinking about it, and every time I think about it, I'll be like yaaaaay, because then I'll think about Bologna, and books, and people being excited about books, and it'll make me excited, too.
There are going to be galleys of The Peculiar. Somewhere. I assume at the HarperCollins booth. And my editor will be talking about the book on the MG buzz panel on June 6th, so if you are there, you lucky dog, you should go listen to her.
The day after the buzz panel is my birthday, the day after that is an annoying test at the conservatory which is OPEN TO THE PUBLIC because apparently it's ok to torture students, and in the afternoon is a lonnnnng rehearsal, and the day after that is a concert.
Birthday is number nineteen, by the by. Which strikes me as a fairly grown-up age and makes me feel like I should be acting older. And maybe looking older. May have to grow a beard. And act sophisticated.
Whatever. That is all. Back to WRITING. Rawr.