Life, I Love You (really, and I love peaches, too)

Next week, we begin our first week of home-school. My classroom will consist of one high school student, one middle grade student, one first-grader, and one preschooler who contributes to the overall well-being of the others by head-butting us when he’s being ignored.

The thought of beginning yet another year is overwhelming to me. Because of that, I haven’t had the heart to blog, not after the long days I’ve had trying to prepare for the new school year. The problem, of course, is that my days were actually no longer than any other; they have just felt that way.

What have I been doing? Oh, the usual–putting up boxes and boxes of peaches and looking through the new books and devising a schedule, while also attempting the great feat of revising my proposal for one book and writing a proposal for its sequel. By book proposal, I mean the synopsis, the tag line, the overview, and the comparative market. It’s good to have these things at the ready–just in case. And I’m not very good at writing clever stuff, either, so it takes me ten times as long as the average person (I have no statistics to back up that assertion, by the way.)

I had almost decided to give up blogging for a while, but I don’t think I can let myself off the hook that easily. So I have a busy life. So what? So does everybody else. Sometimes, I appeal to my husband or to God when I want somebody to tell me what to do. That’s not honest. I appeal to them when I want them to tell me not to do those things that I don’t want to do. My husband very rarely complies. Generally, he tells me to do whatever I think is best. God laughs at me. All right, I’ve never actually heard him, but I have this sinking suspicion he’s up in his domain at the very least shaking his head at me.

Ultimately, I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to continue blogging. I will, therefore, post a new chapter next week. As the school year rolls along, I might have to change my blogging schedule (which I never keep, anyway).

Meanwhile, I’m having a bit of trouble finding the comparative market for my sequel. It should be rather obvious that it fits into the same market as its predecessor. It does. However, it also has a seventeen-year-old heroine, and I’m afraid that might change things a bit. The first has a heroine who is thirty-five, and I’m calling it women’s fiction with a supernatural twist. I’ve found several comparative books–maybe not the only ones, but ones which I’m familiar with, such as Bonnie Grove’s Talking to the Dead. Can I call a book with a teenage heroine “women’s fiction”? What do you think?

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