Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Fun fact: I thought Hermione was pronounced "Her-mee-own" for about three years

My pre-husband and I are moving on Saturday so, as you can see, my desk is surrounded by boxes. The clutter and the dust and the stain on the white carpet that I have to pay to remove (or pay to re-carpet) are making it darn hard to focus on my book. But I have to. Because I have to sort out copyright with Jehovah's Witnesses (more on that later) and because my agent wants to know a) How I would describe my manuscript, in 3-4 sentences, and b) How I would describe myself as a writer, in 3-4 sentences.

The first one shouldn't be too hard. I managed to sum up the book okay in queries. But the second? This will take some thought. I have no idea what kind of a writer I am. I don't have many awards to mention or accolades. I've just been working away, quietly, at my desk for years. Hmm. I may need a little magic to help me with this one. I'm hoping Lego Hermione can wave her wand and sort it all out.

Lego Hermione is just one of the many treasures I've found while packing, including old journals filled with terrible high school poetry such as this work of genius:

Balled Up

was it the vinegar on my popcorn
the extra lemon in my tea
or the overwhelming sadness
that’s raining over me

my path is a windy road
as the old cliché goes
never knowing where to turn to
or where the river flows

if you want to come with me
I’ll hold you in my arms
I’ll carry your bags like they were my own
place your toys next to my charms...

Oh my God, you guys. And it just gets worse from there.

I also found a four-page "like" letter that I had long forgotten about. That "like" was in high school, mind you, and it was not reciprocated. I had no idea what to do with boys back then. Still don't, really.

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