Back Again, Gone Again

Well, I'm back from Writer's Weekend and sufficiently caught up on sleep to be more or less cogent. It was an absolutely worthwhile trip. Although I'm tempted to give a blow-by-blow account, necessity compels me to keep this brief.

It was lovely to catch up with the folks I'd met at last year's WW. The conference was much larger this year than last, so I got to make a lot of new acquaintances and match a lot of faces to the names I see go by on lj. Welcome to all the new folks who've friended me. (And dthon, which one are you?)

To my very great surprise, I'm the program chair for next year's WW. It's a little daunting, but fun so far. Suggestions for next year and feedback on this year's panel topics, speakers, and scheduling would be welcome. (And thanks, alg, for helping me get off to such a good start!)

Okay, I've buried the lead for long enough. Here's the best thing that happened for me: a shiny new agent at an established, respected agency has requested the first three chapters of the massive manuscript, as well as the short story that's the kernel of the stand-alone prequel I'm planning to work on next. "You do understand," I said, "that this manuscript is 250,000 words and change? And that it can't really be cut into smaller bits without the story falling apart? And that the market is not hospitable to a book like this from a first-time author?" But scarletbronte had already praised the book to the shiny new agent in such glowing terms that the answer was, "I don't need to hear your pitch. Just send it. How fast can you get it to me? I want it right away." She'd have liked to see the full manuscript, but over the past year, I've taken the thing apart for repairs to such an extent that it'll take at least three months to put it back together well enough for the engine to run.

Of course, it's still possible that the book won't appeal to her tastes, or that she'll conclude she can't sell it, despite its merits. This isn't the kind of news I can take to the bank, but it's better news than I expected. No matter what she does next, I'm glad to have met her. She's both kind and gutsy, a cool person to know.

Why the brevity about WW, when I'd really like to be effusive about it?

By the time Dan got me home from the airport, we were already down to 48 hours before the moment when we need to set out for festival. I won't kvetch too much about all the things I need to do to get us packed up for the trip, especially since so many folks on my friends list are working so much harder on FSG prep than I am. (The festival coordinator, the parking coordinator, the priestess of the main ritual, the person who built the nine-foot-tall costumes for the main ritual, etc., etc., etc.) They need me to be one of the fresh horses once I get there, and I've already spent my best strength in Seattle. Remind me not to commit myself again to two five-day, out-of-state, volunteering-intensive trips in consecutive weeks.

Not too much kvetching. Just this little bit:
All the laundry in the cosmos is here in my house. I am washing laundry for the sins of the world. Also, in addition to digging up and airing out all the camping equipment an eleven-year marriage can amass, I need to cook beef goulash for 20 and vegan goulash for 8 in time to pack it up and freeze it hard overnight. And did I mention that my car's in the shop? Okay, all done kvetching now.

I promised the shiny new agent I'd ship out that parcel within a week of getting home. Given all the things I'd like to clean up in those first three chapters, and all the things I've promised other folks I'd help with for Solstice, it may be a bit of an adventure to make that happen. Wish me luck.