If you care, A/C got replaced the same day. Puppy ankle's looking good. Still cranking on the manuscript, and I'm making very edifying progress. I'm almost, but not quite proud of myself. There is still a long haul to go, after all. So, another slapdash entry here.
Someday, all the searchers for text on the blonde teen missing from the island will be gone, and my hits will drop precipitously, and we'll be back to our intimate crowd: you, me, the people who join us from arcane searches for midgets and woodpeckers. Meanwhile, if you came here for the blonde teen, I'd love it if you'd tell me in the comments what you'd hoped to find. Maybe I can provide some flimsy version of your expectations.
From the gossip and entertainment industry site, Defamer, which I'm often too "outside" to decode, I found this link to a blog I'm currently enjoying: Query Letters I Love.
I've written before about the process of pitching novels and how it compares to film. These are actual screenplay pitches that some wisely-anonymous entertainment-type posts for general mockery. This seems cruel (and it is), but it's also amusing and enlightening if you weren't sure why most modern movies suck donkey balls. Reading these skidmarked ideas, I hope you'll realize some of their craptastic nature is built into the design. Even a great film would be reduced to inanity by this format. But as I imagine people who've migrated to L.A. to leap into film careers sitting around the Big Boy regurgitating ideas in smeared ball point into their spiral notebooks of genius, it's funny. Maybe it's just grim. Look, I'm on a deadline and under pressure not to screw up my own execution of what began as a good idea. I'm assuming the temporary license of being heartless about other people's spitballed notions.