Loose Ends

To keep track of where my various projects stand, for my own good if not for anyone who may read this, here’s my current fictiony status:

Dead and Dying has officially been downgraded as just Dead. There are still two full manuscripts floating around out there–two of the three I received, in fact–but I haven’t heard anything on them since May when I sent them in and I’m done waiting. If something still comes of the book, then great. If not, that’s okay, too.

Project Superhero has been sent to five or six people to read. Hopefully, I’ll start getting some feedback over the next few days so I can see what horribly embarrassing mistakes I have to fix. I’m nearly settled on a title, but I’m still mulling it over while I continue to tinker with the manuscript here and there. I also started working on the query letter last night and will continue to work on it over the next couple of weeks until I feel good about it. Then, a couple of published (or soon-to-be published) writers have offered to check out the letter and offer their insights.

New Literary Fiction Project is still in the planning stages and I will probably begin the rough draft in the next week or so. Scary, but in a good way.

“The Luckiest Man on Earth” is a short story I’ve sent out to one mag so far hoping to find it a good home. I think it’s one of the strongest shorts I’ve written and I’m moderately optimistic that it will land somewhere, sometime.

“Visible Man” is another short I think might have a good chance of reaching publication, although I’m still looking for the ideal market. I’ll probably think more about sending this one out next month after I have the new novel going a bit.

That’s the top-of-mind stuff at the moment. I have a few other things in various stages of completion, but none of them near enough to done or promising enough (yet) to worry about amidst all this other work.

I did have a pleasant experience today, though, that I think bears mentioning. I went to Arby’s for lunch and the young girl at the counter noticed the book (Don DeLillo’s Underworld) in my hand and asked what I was reading. She then took it from me and proceeded to read the inside flap while I contemplated my order. When I was ready, she returned the tome, smiled, and said, “I’m a book person.”

Maybe there’s hope for the young, after all.

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