Writes of Passage.

A visitor here recently asked me what I write. He told me not to answer back, "Words." I hate when people steal the perfect quip from my fingertips.

Right now I'm working on short stories which is perfect for my short attention span. I have a story submitted for a Lesbian Valentine's Day anthology. (Yes, I am married to a man - why do you ask?) I think it's a fairly good story. If it doesn't work out there, I'll try my level best to find it a home elsewhere.

I also have a few other projects rattling around, including a vampire tale. I cannot say more - I've just read a book which tells me emphatically that talking about works in progress jinxes them.

And I write the blog which makes the whole world ping! I had another blog and I've abandoned it. I must return to the nice people and direct them here. My other blog's template was a horrendous shade of yellow, pink, and blue - like icing on a child's cake. I feel guilty to abandon it when it's all dress up in such a Spring-y outfit.

Quite possibly the main reason I never pursued writing before was a fear of failing at something that mattered to me so much. What an absolutely embarrassing, cowardly thing to say. True though. Then I recalled that I am almost psychotically stubborn; the whole of the publishing world cannot hold out as long as I can hold on.

The only things I've really wanted to do professionally was work with animals and do something with words. I've done the animal thing and now it's time to put my ever-so-slightly argumentative (and verbose) nature to good use.