Book submission continues apace and it’s pointless to talk about it until something definite happens. Something almost happened last week. Something might happen next week. Things are in motion. I was disappointed last week and I could very well be disappointed next week. There are a hundred variables and so many people have to say yes across multiple departments that it’s pointless to even think about it. Like that stops me.

So I read these scripts for this company and give these notes to these writers and churn out copy for clients who don’t know what they want. Like that stops them from having opinions.

I worry I’m reading too many short stories because I worry the prose function in me is temporarily disabled and the multiple short story collections I picked up at the used bookstore down the street aren’t helping. Like other people’s words could stop me.

Someone wake me up when the book submission is over.

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