Hobkin is not a joy in summer. He’s a bratty terror during the warm months. He would not take “my alarm doesn’t go off for another half hour, lemme sleepzzzz!” as an excuse to postpone his (very early) breakfast. ‘Course, he doesn’t usually in winter either, but there’s an added level of insistence, as in “I will totally piddle on the carpet if you don’t get up NOW to feed me” that isn’t there so much in December. fosteronfilm actually got up to give him a snack so I could have a few more precious minutes of shuteye. And he’s been blowing his coat something fierce for what feels like months now (Hobkin, not Matthew). Fall needs to hurry up and get here.
I want to say again that I lubs me my new job. Some of the rose-tinted glasses-glow will undoubtedly fade in time–like I note that under each editors’ desk, we have our very own personal space heater, which bodes scariness come winter (note to self: bring sweater), and there’s a gigantic, framed Shakespeare poster hanging behind my desk which is there to cover a huge hole in the wall*, something I find charming now, but expect I’ll want to roll my eyes at down the road**–but I’m still deep into the honeymoon phase of my shiny, new career.
And my muse is starting to perk up from all the new stimuli. I’m thinking I need to write a story set on a transit train . . .
*At least it’s a Shakespeare poster which is so much cooler than one of those lame motivational ones.
**Especially if there’s a chilly draft out of that hole come the cold season.
I got an email from a publisher/editor asking for my permission to reprint my column, Writing for Young Readers, on their website. I’m a bit surprised since it just started last month, but also quite flattered. The first column is still under an exclusive publication agreement with Writing-World and will be for several more months–as I told the editor/publisher–but I’m more than amenable to discussing future reprint options. ‘Course, they didn’t mention payment, and when I hopped out to their website, I couldn’t find their guidelines, but I’m pleased to have been asked.
- 200 on a piece of fiction. Woo!