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I hardly ever node these days (since finishing the Animorphs Series a while back, anyway), and I've never made daylogging a habit. But I still pay attention to what some of you folks are doing, still occasionally vote for things and distribute C!s, and still say something off-topic and pointless in the catbox now and then.

That said, for some reason I felt like writing a daylog.

Weird things may be about to go forward for me in exactly the way I've been chasing for years, so for some reason that's caused me to revisit my roots. I've been revisiting my memory boxes and reading old paper journals from ten, even twenty years ago. Reminiscing about people I met whom I still know, and people I would have completely forgotten if I hadn't written about them. I read my sister's old abandoned LiveJournal and read about her first date with the guy who became her husband. I found worksheets I did in elementary school. I reread rants I drafted during six years of being a retail slave in a bookstore. I found a thirty-five-year-old piece of paper my dad was taking notes on while I was being born. It ended with "6:30 AM: Baby girl."

Moving forward. I recently got a literary agent. I've been trying to find representation for my fantasy trilogy since late last year, and after twenty-something rejections (and a few close calls) I got an offer. We've been working out all the kinks and deciding how to spin it for a while, and now my book is slated to start that whole pitching-to-mainstream-publishers-in-New-York thing. On the one hand I feel like it's no big deal, because I'm fine with rejection. On the other hand, if no one wants it THEN WHAT HAPPENS??, so sometimes I get nervous. My agent thinks I have nothing to worry about and that I'm going to get multiple requests and eventually sold at auction. I think it's weird that in this case she's the optimistic one. Isn't the agent supposed to be the jaded businessperson while the writer stays wide-eyed and idealistic?

A long time ago when I wrote my homenode text, I included the phrase "future bestselling author." It was a joke.

Who knows?