I’m working steadily on the short story I’m going to print out and present to Adam on Tuesday evening. I don’t think it’ll be a very polished story by the time I give it to him, but it’ll be readable. My husband isn’t a writer, but he’s a reader, and I know I’ll be able to point out where things don’t flow, or if the plot stops dead, or if a character says something unbelievable.

I sent a query letter and the first page of my novel to Miss Snark, for her Labor Day Weekend Crapometer (i.e. she’s critiquing people’s queries and openings on her site), but she ended up with tons of entries and only selected a random sampling to be snarked on in public. I won’t be in the random sampling. Boo. I don’t think my query was half-bad, particularly in comparison to a lot of the queries she’s posted so far. Yikes. Her snark heartens me.