Many celebrations this week in the Pacific Northwest. It's SeaFair in Seattle. We've had several days of Blue Angels fly-bys. While SeaFair happens every year, this doesn't: I turned 4-0! My mother thinks it's crazy, and so do I, but regular readers know that I am too old to have read the Babysitter book series and old enough to be a mega-Springsteen fan, so 40 is about right. As per the marital settlement, Mr. Richland made a lovely cake. His other masterpieces are here and here.
I spent much of my birthday with a Guide to Literary Agents list, crossing off the already querieds, questionable reputations and/or dead ends. A bit of desperation mixed with my productivity. The night before, Mr. Richland and I saw "Salt" and I had an extended self-doubt moment. The Soldier will never be that taut and thrilling, I can't write action, I can't write romance, why would anyone want my stuff when things like this are out there, boo hoo. Usually good plots inspire me to say "I want to do that too," but something about the combination of a birthday, edits, and queries led to a "what am I thinking" moment. I emoted to Mr. Richland while drinking champagne cocktails (can't feel too sorry for myself, reading that). He listened, and left me to work undisturbed the next day, and voila, mojo back.
It's Monday and I'm thinking Rosie the Riveter. We Can Do It! By Friday night, I'm going to send 5 more queries, finish synopsis revisions, and enter the Golden Pen contest. That's a birthday present I can give myself. Post your week goal, writing or otherwise, in the comments. I'll report Friday on mine.