OK. I had a good day yesterday. My agent said my (x) novel is likely to be sold quickly and for approximately double the advance I got on the first one. They're calling it crossover, thriller to literary. It's rare and at an early stage, but it's possible it's exactly where I've been aiming my zen arrow all these years. It would be nice to be "taken seriously" at writers' conferences, though I don't hold out too much for that. I mean, afterall, with the NPR crowd, success is pretty much not a good thing. I call them the snicker crowd. That's the peak of their creative expression--the snicker at middle America who doesn't and will never "understand" or appreciate them. They like to laugh, that's sort of a good thing, even when it's at the expense of others. Wait, I take that back. I just got a mental image of a group of Taliban types snickering at the mess they made out of an American GI they tortured. Hitler and Stalin and Mao might have had more than their share of laughs (and temper tantrums for that matter). But I diverge. I have a day off. Should I write or walk around in my loincloth? Dare I watch a movie. No, I can answer that one. But "veg"? Maybe. Maybe I should veg a bit and call it--what did she call it?--meandering time.
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