Lake Neuron

I still felt pretty crummy when I got up this morning, and I’ve left a message at the paper that I won’t be in this afternoon to work on the Sunday front page. I suspect I will feel better tomorrow, but I’ll probably be wheezing and sneezing, so I plan to bow out of cooking for men’s club breakfast at church. I want to make it to the breakfast if I can, because Marilyn Massengale will be our program, giving her moving rendition of the creation story.

Meanwhile, I got e-mail last night from my old scriptwriting professor. She and her husband, my film professor, were going to hire me to work for their production company after college, and I went down and lived with them for a couple of months in 1985, but their project fell through and I hadn’t really demonstrated much reason to be there. I have kept up with them through the years, though.

Anyway, Theresa thought I might have been near the tornado damage in the Tennessee and e-mailed me to check on me. In my response, I suggested that I might ask her to look at my novel some time. She e-mailed me this morning telling me to send it on, and I’ve done so.

This scares me, because Theresa is all about writing a marketable manuscript, and she will be honest with me about whatever she doesn’t find marketable. (She said in her e-mail she would take her “mean red pen” to it.)

Tags: NaNoWriMo, Novel