I have an appointment with an editor from Harlequin on Saturday. A real live editor, from real live Harlequin, who buys and pays real, live money for romance novels. She's going to be at the retreat I'm going to this weekend and in some bit of insanity, I told them I wanted an appointment. Actually, I don't remember saying yes. I remember saying I'll think about it. But, I figure that if I'm ever going to really and truly act like a romance writer, I'd better take the appointments as they come.
In the meantime, I need to slog through about 20,000 words before Fri, and come up with a "pitch" for my book, 25 words or less. Yet, here I sit blogging instead of writing.
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