The latest interview is up at Cat and Muse. You get to meet Ingrid, an intrepid television reporter who's up to her elbows in trouble (finding a dead body at the anchor desk will do that) and who daydreams about Keith Partridge.
I'm wondering: How's Cat and Muse doing? Do you like it? Does the talk-radio format work? What about being introduced to other authors' characters -- yay? Nay? Neither? (I know, some of you are like, "Cat and What?")
So now everyone is back from Germany -- last week was the Frankfurt Book Fair; big big BIG for the publishing industry. My agent was there, and I think my editor was too. Anyway, everyone is back, so I'm hoping to hear from my agent about a couple of projects. I'll give details as soon as I can. Wish me luck...
In other news, Hell's Belles hits the shelves in 84 days. Not that I'm counting or anything... Actually, I'm a basket case. You'd think that all would be happiness, that I'd be blissful over the upcoming launch. But no. Instead, my stomach is churning over whether I'll get good reviews. (Bam, if you're reading this, remember, I am happy to resort to bribery.) And if I'll make my numbers. (Whatever that means.) And whether my editor will like The Road to Hell. And, of course, the other projects that I mentioned that I didn't get into.
What ever happened to being satisfied with what you've got? Instead of taking pleasure out of my accomplishments, I keep working toward the next goal. ((Jackie shakes head sadly)) Which is all fine, of course. Except I'd also like to smell the roses, as Melpomene would suggest.