A Century of Pages

Finally passed the hundred-page mark for The Pirate's Bride; 108 pages to be exact. This milestone actually occurred a few days ago, but I wanted to make sure I planned to keep what I'd written. (It doesn't happen often, but I do sometimes scrap whole scenes, and that would have taken me back into the nineties.)

Frankly, it doesn't seem like much for ten months' work -- only about 58 pages, 'cuz I had 50 when I started. I try to take into account, however, that I also completed a major and a minor rewrite to Slide in those ten months, as well as moved 1.5 households, provided serious emotional support to my dad as he coped with his wife's terminal illness and eventual death, and laid the groundwork for several other projects.

I would really love to knock out 50 more pages before November 6. That would still only bring my average up to about 8.3 pages per month... but who's counting?

Light the Sky and Hold on Tight

Ever feel like setting things on fire?

Not literally, of course. I am not an arsonist. But figuratively dropping the match on the pile of tinderwood you've been dancing around for months, even years.

I broke a friendship awhile ago -- shattered it, actually -- for a whole bunch of reasons, not the least of which is that it was time to let it go. Yet I keep a sort of minimal tabs online of the narcissitic personality in question. Why? Beats the hell out of me. Maybe it's the veiled references he is still making to/about me. Maybe I just can't let go of my anger.

I almost responded today. I almost poured on the gasoline and got out my flamethrower. Some nasty, dark part of myself kept whispering, "Burn it all!"

I wrote this instead.

Messing About in the Garden

As I write this, I should be working on The Pirate's Bride, for which I have managed to write about six pages in the past ten days, and a whole paragraph (okay, two) today. Chalk it up to the dental hygeniest appointment this morning, and then the errands I had to run, as well as the lunch I had with my dad to celebrate his birthday. (A larger celebration is planned tomorrow; though today is the actual date, we're celebrating tomorrow night.)

Those aren't much of an excuse, though, especially when I took the time to score 237,100 on Bejewled Blitz and look at my email umpteen times this afternoon. If I could play that game professionally, I think I would --I'd at least be getting a return on my addiction. But I digress...

And that's the problem. I'm digressing a lot these days, and regressing, and procrastinating, and all kinds of other "ing"s. Perhaps the problem with being self-motivated is that when you're not, there's no one to kick you up the backside and tell you to move along.

So I'm telling myself:

MOVE ALONG!

Bended, But Unbroken

Received the email I expected last night: we did not advance to the Semi-Finals for the Nicholl Fellowship.

Je suis desolee.

But I -- we -- will survive. It hurts, no doubt about it. I don't think we ever realize how much we are invested in something until it doesn't come to pass. I wanted this, and I try not to want very much... Except to have faith in the writing, to believe that we are good enough to do this professionally.

My faith is shaken but not lost.

Happy little planner that I am, I do not know what to do next. No doubt, however, something will come along.

Just More Questions; Different Kind

I'm not officially Catholic--or likely to become so--although as I told my husband the other day, I think I am genetically. The Irish is strong in this one, to paraphrase Darth Vader, and the long-suffering guilt of Catholicism steeps my DNA like a warm, insistent, soul-crushing lavage. Not that I'm complaining.

Or maybe I am. The phrase bucking for sainthood keeps coming to mind as I contemplate my current situation. From spontaneously agreeing to watch the neighbor's dog for the weekend to doing laundry for four adults (I volunteered) to redoing the dishes (not voluntary but necessary) to keeping the details of four lives in my head in order to organize a smoother existence (as much for me as for anyone), I sometimes wonder why I'm doing any of it. What if I didn't? What if I stopped?

I suspect it wouldn't make much difference, other than that the ensuing, low-level chaos would drive me crazy. So how can I be a saint to do it all if I'm really doing it for myself?

I'm not a saint. And I don't want to be a domestic engineer, either. I'm not even good at it--just have a look at the pile of cat hair collecting by the bookcase.

And I am tired of being called defensive; I am tired, too, of being the nag who insists people do what they know they ought to do. There are no children in my house.

I think I need to adjust my attitude... Trouble is, I don't know what sort of adjustment to make.

It's Raining in Baltimore

We got back from North Carolina Friday night after a 13 1/2-hour car ride with my dad's two cats. It would have been nice if we could have made the same time going down (just under 11 hours, with an hour of stop-time for food & bathroom breaks) as we did coming back, but Dad did more of the driving. Guess I didn't get my need for speed from him. :) More important, however: the cats were well-behaved, and so were the people. Dad and I had some good talks, which made the time go a lot faster.

Spent the weekend putting life back into some semblance of order. Shopped for a mattress set for Dad; tried to find a dress for an upcoming wedding; did laundry; planned the 2 week menu and grocery list; grocery shopped; deflated the air mattress; installed the new bed; played with the dog; settled in the cats. Busy, busy.

Still trying to get used to the new house myself. Can't find anything. Always tripping over something. Frequently trying to help someone else find/do something. Not much time to think, let alone write.

Perhaps -- to quote Adam Duritz -- I need a raincoat.

Guess Who's Back? Back Again...

Long time, no write... To tie up some loose ends: the house deal worked out. We ended up taking it, and we got the seller to pay for the carpet removal. Then we shelled out a bundle to have the floors redone (they really really needed it). Near as I can tell so far, it's all been worth it. We have a nice place, and we all (people and animals) seem to like it.

News: After a two-and-a-half year fight, my father's second wife died from complications created by larangeal cancer. William and I attended the funeral in North Carolina in late July, and Dad has begun the slow process of moving up here with us. We are enjoying his company, but we are so sorry for his loss.

Other News: We made the first cut in the Nicholl Fellowship. Out of a record-breaking 6380 entries, 321 screenplays advanced to the quarter-finals. Slide is one of them. We are very excited, and of course, hopeful that we might make it to the semi-finals. (Between 110 and 120 entries will advance)

Travel: Tomorrow I head back to North Carlina with Dad to start wrapping up the selling of his house and the moving of his stuff, not to mention bringing his 2 beautiful cats home to Rochester. I will have limited Web access for a while, but I plan to pick up this blog upon my return. I even plan to start writing again soon -- with luck, when I get back, or maybe even a little before.

Stay tuned.

A Plague on All Their Houses (Redux)

This is not a writing entry...

I will admit I have a temper, and that I have my unreasonable moments. That said, I'm assessing the ridiculous situation with our real estate agent and the seller's agent as worthy of anger and desire for satisfaction.

We had a closing date. Because, in the words of the seller's lawyer, the seller was "not ready to vacate" because he "had other closings" he was dealing with, the seller's lawyer did not hurry to respond to our attorney or get the necessary paperwork to our lawyer. (As an aside, we also know that the seller just closed a sale on May 15 -- 1 day after we were supposed to close.)This delayed the bank, but the bank put through its approval in short order, because we were already pre-qualified and ably demonstrated our financial commitment and ability. At that point, we were 2 days past the original closing date.

Now, the seller's lawyer says there is some title problem that still needs to be cleared up. We won't be closing this week either. Monday is a holiday, so the earliest we can close will be next Tuesday -- and that's not guaranteed yet; we still don't have a closing date.

Because the delay has all been on the other party's side, we requested an additional concession, and not a huge one -- we want the carpets removed from the house, which is something we wanted to include as a contingency in our original offer, but our agent said that was an unreasonable request. So we made arrangements to have the carpets removed after we moved in -- and now those arrangements have fallen through because of the delay.

Our agent acts like we're asking for a pound of flesh. His agent won't even present the request to the seller. We're thinking of getting out of the deal all together.

We upheld our end of the deal; the seller and his side are dragging their feet. The house has soured for us considerably. If we don't end up walking away all together, I am looking for some solution to this issue that does not leave us feeling hard done by.

So -- I'm calling on all of the powers of the universe. Help us to resolve this dispute in a way that no one is hurt or upset, but that justice is served.

Let karma be served, too, to our agent, who has failed repeatedly to advocate on our behalf; to his agent, who behaves as if he's more important than the other people in the deal, and who has intimidated our agent; and to the seller, who seems to be up to something that is at least questionable (more than mentioned here). As for the seller's lawyer, well... he's a lawyer. I think karma's already been served there.

Oh, and if you're local -- think twice before dealing with Nothnagle Realtors.

Cue the Theme Music from "Rocky"

I am not giving up.

Got the latest rejection from an agent today. Boy, they're so nice. I wish they would read the book, but at least they're nice.

I am not giving up.

I read so many books that are truly crap. We have not written the great American novel, but it's entertaining, and it's as good as so much of the stuff that's out there.

I am not giving up.

We will find someone to read this book. They will find someone to publish it. The public will enjoy it. Hollywood will snap it up. The movie will earn everyone money and maybe a few Oscar nominations. We'll keep writing more and let success breed success. We'll help other people be successful.

I am not giving up.

Tomorrow, I will send out the next query letter.

I am not giving up.

"P" Is for Pertussis

So... I've been coughing for over four weeks now, and from my Internet research and a friend's husband (who happens to be a professional), we've deduced I have pertussis, otherwise known as whooping cough. I didn't realize that despite being immunized against it as a kid, it's still possible to get a milder form of the illness, and anyway, after 10 years or so, the immunization kinda wears off. (Makes you wonder about the other immunizations we received, doesn't it?)

It's very little comfort to know what it is, as there's really nothing I can do about it but cough until I stop coughing. Fabulous. I should be writing, getting back to The Pirate's Bride or storyboarding the next screenplay.

Or barring writing, I should be packing for the move. So far, I've packed one box. One. And that's one more than anyone else I live with. We're a motivated group, I'll tell you what.

Oh, well... it will get done. Or it won't. And this cough will go away. Or it won't.

Everything's eventual.

It's Out of My Hands (For Now)

It's official: on Friday at about 1:38 in the afternoon, we submitted Slide and our application for the Nicholl Fellowship. We feel we've submitted the best version of that screenplay that we could, and I guess that's all we can hope to do.

Now we wait. With something over 5000 applications for the Fellowship, it takes months for them all to be read, so we're not complaining. It's a great thing to know that our entry will be read at least once.

Here's the basic timeline for notification:
Quarterfinals: mid-July
Semifinals: August/September
Finals: October
Winners: November

In the meantime, back to work on The Pirate's Bride, and time to start work on our new screenplay, Come Dancing. It should keep our minds off things.

I Am I Don Quixote

Received yet another very nice rejection letter, this time from Agent #3. The courtesy that the agents we've contacted have shown is exemplery, and we do appreciate that. I just wish we could get one of them to read the book. I think they would be pleasantly surprised, enough so that they would actually represent us. What the hell are we doing wrong?

I'd hate to think that it's all about who you know, because if it is, we're screwed.

Well... time to keep tilting at windmills.

Could It Be? Yes, It Could...

Updates, updates, updates.

Sent out the latest agent query for The Long Black Veil.

Completed the initial edit of Slide. Need to re-read it tomorrow and check accuracy, consistency, spelling, format, etc. Closing in on done, though.

Started the application for the Nicholl Fellowship (which I have been misspelling up to now). Doesn't appear to be terribly hard to get the basic information submitted properly. All online, due no later than 11:59 PM on May 1st. (I thought it was May 3rd; glad I double-checked.)

It's good to have things in motion.

Restaurant Haiku

Burger King's on fire.

I can hear The King screaming.

You want fries with that?

~ Bill Gibson & Bobbi L'Huillier

A Little Less Conversation, A Little More Action

Argh. Spent Tuesday editing and rewriting 65 pages of the Slide screenplay, for a total of 86 pages DONE (out of the latest count of 105).

BUT... Hit a big snag. Have one major bit left to amend, and we're just not sure how to do it so that it

• Doesn't add too much extraneous material; and
• We don't end up "telling" instead of "showing" the action.

The application MUST be postmarked no later than 5/3/09. And I haven't fully read the application materials yet. And it's already 4/9/09.

So why the hell am I wasting time blogging?

Counting All My Blessings

So many reasons to be thankful...

March coming to a close.

Great friends who provided incredibly useful feedback on the Slide screenplay.

The possibilities of a new house.

The extended network of friends all over the country who are always so supportive.

The five kitties and the puppy.

The family members who offer their expertise and tremendous wit in equal measure.

The chance to get to know Dad again.

The way Jeannine, William and I work so well with one another, whether we're on vacation or buying a house together.

Time Tells Everything, Given Time

Not writing much here, but writing elsewhere...

Spent a few days in Dover, Delaware, marking the first anniversary of my mother's death by playing the slot machines at Dover Downs and hanging out with J and W. A strange tribute, some might say, but Mom would have loved that place. And Rehobeth Beach was gorgeous even in March.

Spent the past week or so editing the screenplay for Slide -- first to get it ready for a reading with our great group of friends, and following the feedback from the reading, to prepare the script for the Nichols Fellowship application due by May 3rd. We fully expect not to receive the fellowship, but the act of faith committed in trying for it is a good, good thing.

Holding off on sending to a new agent just now... the time doesn't feel quite right yet. Soon, I hope. By the by, should any of you have contacts in the literary/publishing field, we have no qualms about begging for your assistance. Just let us know you're willing to be groveled to.

And finally, we're house-hunting again. Fascinating stuff. May have found a place we like, though not certain yet. That too will come in time, no doubt.

Why I Love to Read Crap Books

Just finished one last night in fact. Oddly enough, just after I bought the crap book (used), I was flipping through channels and discovered it had been made into a Lifetime movie. You know, Lifetime... Television for Victims.

So why did I enjoy reading the crap book that (no doubt) got made into a crap movie?

'Cuz it gives me hope. The Long Black Veil is not the great American novel, but it ain't crap either.

Wahoo!

Make That a 2-fer

Got the first contact rejection of the year today; a brief but very nice response from the agent who doesn't feel the manuscript (The Long Black Veil) is right for her list.

I hope that's not code for "your writing sucks big time", but if it is, at least she put it nicely.

And at least she responded.

Guess it's time to go for the hat trick...

Maybe Monday.

We're Thinking of Getting Him A Car

Our Maine Coon cat, Jake, turns 16 today. I was in college and broke when I drove to Copenhagen, NY, to get him as a gift for Jeannine on her 25th birthday. We like to say he's a gift that keeps on giving.

We drove him cross-country (with 2 other cats -- Dauntless and Harry) to Oklahoma City when we moved there from Watertown, NY; and we drove him back eight years later with three other cats (Yuri, Fox and the Monkey) when we moved from OKC to Rochester, NY. He's been a faithful friend, always quick to come see what's wrong if any of us is upset, or happy to bitch at us when we're not doing what he wants.

He has a thousand nicknames, or somewhere in that neighborhood: Jacob, Yakov, Grape Ape, Poopoo-Lala (his Indian name), Rodan, Yar, Lion King, the Dragon, the Pooh, Mr. Poopoo, and on and on. And songs. You don't want to hear the songs, trust me. Well, maybe one...

I love the Poopoo-Lala

I love the Poopoo true

I love that Poopoo-Lala

Oh, Poopoo I love you!

Happy birthday, Poopoo-Lala!

Circling

Since deciding to chuck the traditional workforce for writing full-time, I think I've developed ADD or ADHD or whatever the hell one fits. My symptoms include an inability to keep my posterior in the chair for more than a few minutes (unless I'm playing an online game or Spider Solitaire) when I'm actually trying to, oh, you know, WRITE.

I never used to be like this: I used to be able to concentrate for hours on whatever I happened to be working on. And I used to be largely indistractable: for example, I used to do homework in front of the T.V., sometimes with music playing simultaneously, and usually with my parents fighting in the background. And in spite of missing a minimum of 36 days of school each year, I still made good grades -- 37th in a class of 250 in high school, magna cum laude in college in a 3-year accelerated program. Imagine what I might have done if I had actually applied myself!

I don't say any of this to boast; I say it with a deep mourning for what used to be. Nowadays, I have to write a few words,then get up and sweep the floor; write a few more words, then go get a drink; write a little more... you get the picture.

Oddly enough, though, I'm still making progress. At least there's that.

Ambition Can Creep As Well As Soar

In some magazine or another that I was reading on the plane as I came back from North Carolina, Amy Tan said that she was a "late bloomer" because she didn't publish The Joy Luck Club until she was 37.

Wow. That only gives me 7 months to meet Amy's deadline.

Fortunately, I'm not as enamored of (or cowed by) a devotion to youth culture and its illusionary definition of success. I haven't forgotten that Richard Adams didn't publish Watership Down until he was in his fifties; Laura Ingalls Wilder didn't publish The Little House series until she was in her sixties. Likewise, Raymond Chandler didn't publish his first short story until he was 45, and his first published novel, The Big Sleep, didn't appear until he was 51.

Of course, Richard, Laura, and Ray all had their breakthroughs more than 35 years ago when America at large clung a little less to the definition of youth being an essential component of success.

I'd better get cracking.

In Like A Lion...

Back after a busy week-and-a-half with much accomplished, including the Jean-Marie Memorial Garage Sale. It was huge and messy and pretty successful, and now there's a lot more room in this old house.

Lots of ideas percolating too, including the continuation of The Pirate's Bride and an idea for a memoir (thank you, Jennifer, for the original suggestion). Tentative title: The Fred & Jean Show. Mom and Dad continue to loom large within the blurry lines of fiction and nonfiction.

Let's see what happens next.

Stop Worrying Where You're Going... Move On

Finally, FINALLY getting some work done this week. It feels good.

Need to dig out Slide and get to work on that too.

One small step for me & Jeannine, one giant step for... well, me & Jeannine, I guess. Maybe you too if you like the stories we tell.

Success Is Like Failure, It's How You Perceive It...

It was a successful weekend, I think; I succeeded in surprising my husband with a weekend "away" at a hotel downtown. It was nice not to have to drive too far to get where we wanted to be.

The success of the weekend led to a discussion with my dear husband about success in general. What is success? Public recognition? Making a lot of money at something? Having your name on the side of a building?

I don't feel as if I'm having much success these days, at least not professionally. Then again, what is success? Is it just making money, or is it doing what you want to do? I am doing what I want to do, for sure. But is that enough? And does wanting both kinds of success asking too much?

Anyway, it was a lovely weekend with my Valentine.

Think Pink

This does not appear to be much of a writing week... considering that I haven't written anything, that may be an understatement.

It is, however, a week for planning. Planning is good, and I'm hell at it. Planning of Valentine's Day surprises, for one... and family vacations for another. Oh, and Oscar parties, too. And the next agent contact, for sometime next week. No word from the last agent contact, so time to move on.

And maybe... just maybe... I'm planning the next chapter of the book. That would be righteous.

Asking the Universe Part 2

Had to take a break to help some family members last week, but here I am again. And I'm borrowing from an old post format, although the goal this time is somewhat different, so read on...

Wanted: 1 agent (male or female) skilled at shepherding novels and screenplays to critical and financial publishing/production success. Race/religion/location not important but a strong sense of ethics is necessary.

Must have: Book industry contacts; ability to strike and complete lucrative deals; tact; concern for clients; fairness; great communication skills; commitment to assisting clients that he/she believes in; faith in LBV and in our other projects.

Would prefer: A sense of humor; tenacity; moderate politics; an interest in a long-term agent/client relationship.

Must like: Strong women; big dreams.

Must not: Give up easily; take more than his/her share.

Dealbreakers: Dismissiveness; greed; lying.

In return: We offer a mainstream, literary and plot-driven novel, marketable to both men and women, particularly those interested in America's Civil Rights Era. The Long Black Veil, our first novel, recently took second place in the national Xerox Aspiring Authors competition judged by Emily Chenoweth, fiction editor for Publishers Weekly, and Maureen Corrigan, NPR’s book critic. Ms. Chenoweth described The Long Black Veil as “a well-conceived, carefully imagined melodrama [that is] poignant and suspenseful…” and said “[r]eading The Long Black Veil was an absolute pleasure.”

Professionally edited and completed manuscript available upon request. All serious requests considered.

Just Pick A Direction

I've been working on The Pirate's Bride at all hours of the day and night, mostly 'cuz I can't seem to sleep normal hours.

I've also been working on the synopsis for The Long Black Veil... which is to say, I have a synopsis already, I'm just not sure it's quite right, so I'm rewriting it.

And of course, I've been working on the query letter, too. We sent one, but if we hear nothing (as we've done so far... I know, not quite a week, but I'm impatient), then I'll feel compelled to tweak it before we send the next one.

And now I'm working on the screenplay of LBV. Again, I have one written, but I made at least 50 edits so far in just the first 15 pages.

All of which is to say that I'm working, I'm just not sure I'm making an progress.

I think I might need to get out more... just maybe not at 4 AM.

Doong Sa... Do Not Be Afraid

If you're a John Irving fan, you may recognize that "Doong Sa" is Vietnamese for the second half of this post-title: "Do not be afraid". I assume John got it right; I never checked beause he used the phrase so effectively in A Prayer for Owen Meany that if he did get it wrong, I don't want to know.

Fear is a subject with which I'm intimately acquainted. Blame it on parents with overactive imaginations, or blame it on my own. Chalk it up to pride, of which I have a wide streak. Attribute it to the chaotic world in which we live, where fear is sometimes considered a gift.

The fears I wrestle with most these days have to do with failure. It's the what ifs -- you know them -- what if it's not good enough? What if we never get it sold? What if I'm just a two-bit hack who doesn't write as well as that [insert derogatory comment & expletive here] Diablo Cody? (I hated Juno. Hated it. On multiple levels. And that was before I knew that woman got her start writing a raunchy blog. Not that there's anything wrong with that, I guess, but writers don't get taken seriously as it is. She's not helping.)

But I started this blog to hold myself accountable, so it's time to face my fears. We sent out our first query letter in three years on Wednesday, January 21, 2009. I wasn't going to say anything here, because almost all query letters end in rejection and getting rejected publicly is supposed to be humiliating, right?

Forget that. Instead, I'm going to take advice from -- of all people -- Bob Dylan, who said: "...Experience teaches us that silence terrifies people the most."

So... no more silence. I'll post about the silence of the agents we contact, if that's all we hear from them. And I'll post about the form letters and the no thank yous and the please send some more followed by more silences if that's what we get. Why not?

Doong sa... do not be afraid.

Hope

Where Friendly Paths Intersect...Looks Like Home for a Time

That's Hermann Hesse paraphrased in the title of this post, just to give the author his due...

I've been thinking about home quite a bit lately. The one I came from, the one I went to, the one I have now.

The North Country haunts me; how could it not? The setting of The Long Black Veil reveals some of my ambiguity about where I grew up, though in the end, the fictional town (Ballantyne) is truly a composite of many towns small and large that institutionalize a quiet racism while pretending morality.

The setting for The Pirate's Bride is even further north, and colder, its desolation as much a part of the tale as the characters. That bleak winter landscape leaves its mark on the people who live there and who have witnessed its unique frozen beauty. It's a fascinating hell.

And though I lived there for eight endless years, it's highly unlikely that I would ever set a story in Oklahoma. I'm sure many people feel at home there, but I never did. The lessons I learned there brought me back East, though, so I am grateful for the knowledge gained.

Maybe someday I'll write about where I live now, though this place does not entirely feel like home either. Maybe I'll never have a true home, except perhaps in the pages of my stories. Or maybe home is less about place and more about a person in whom we find peace and understanding. My husband has given me that.

And maybe that's enough.

Happy Little Planner

Here is how you know when you have too much time on your hands: you start planning your Valentine's Day surprise for your significant other more than a month before the date of the overrated and largely pointless pseudo-holiday.

And it's not as if I don't have anything else to do, between painting the upstairs, going through our accumulated years of crap in the attic & basement, writing The Pirate's Bride, and trying to work up both my nerve & a good query letter for The Long Black Veil -- not to mention the usual maintenance of running a house & prepping it for an additional person/sale/or both. But I like to plan things way ahead of time.

Which reminds me -- we're throwing a costume party for our friends (and my 39th birthday) in October of 2010. Start planning your get-ups, kids -- no time like the present.

It's the End of the World As We Know It (...And I Feel Fine)

The History Channel is running a docudrama on Nostradamus and the end of the world in 2012 as predicted by repeated mentions of the Maya culture & their astronomical prowess and Nostradamus' name. Wow. Based on this show, I will not be flying anywhere in December 2012.

However, since we've got a couple years left, I guess I'll try to finish The Pirate's Bride and maybe finish painting the upstairs hallway.

At least now I have a deadline. Thanks, Nostra! (Can I call you Nostra?)

The Universe Works in Mysterious Ways

Three years ago today, I met for the second time the man who became my husband on October 6, 2007. At the time, our situations were complicated, and while I still wish that our beginning had come at no cost to anyone else, I wouldn't change the outcome. I never believed I could love someone as much as I love William. He is everything I wished for in a friend and partner, and I am so grateful to God and/or whomever/whatever else brought us together.

And I know now the Universe does listen to our most heartfelt requests. About 3 months before we met at a party in New Orleans that second time, I posted the following to a blog I used to write:

25 October 2005
Ask and... Well, Who Knows? Anything Might Happen

Wanted: 1 adult male (no children masquerading in an adult’s body). Age range: 28-50 (ish). Looks/race/religion not that important, and excessive vanity discouraged: no hair longer than mine (mid-back), and no one with more facial/skin/body products than I have (a good bit of wiggle room there.)

Must have: intelligence & common sense; a sense of humor; a job (no pimps or dealers); some financial responsibility (ie don’t borrow money on a weekly basis); some social responsibility (no litterbugs); some faith in something (your choice as to what); respect for (but not necessarily agreement with) my opinions; a liking (or at least tolerance) for cats & family; ability to entertain self while I’m writing; general understanding that all good things come from moderation.

Would prefer: kindness & patience; quick but gentle wit; someone not easily embarrassed (I am so easily embarrassed); talented hands; a good debater but reluctant arguer; an artistic soul; an appreciator of books & music; a good dancer; electrical and/or carpentry skills; a calm, pleasant voice; panache & gallantry.

Must like: quiet (at least sometimes); New Orleans; women only; monogamous sex

Must not: pursue strange or kinky sexual gratification; believe self or any family member is Messiah/Napoleon/Dracula/victim of alien kidnapping/a rock star (unless self or they actually are any of the above); consider fists/feet/additional weapons as the final arbiter to any argument; find constantly undermining others a sport/life calling

Dealbreakers: smoking, serious drugs, excessive drinking/gambling/other addictions; violence; serious lying; failure to support my writing (emotionally, not financially)

In exchange, I offer: reasonable intelligence; strong verbal, editing & writing skills; a willingness to fight fair; amazing massages; keen insight (usually); an appreciation for history/film/gallows humor/politics/Ireland/exercise/beauty; style & flair (at least I think so); some cooking ability; love, valor, compassion; a healthy distaste for real-life relationship drama; good legs & large breasts; warmth; stamina (when interested in task); charm; passion; loyalty; determined innocence; home ownership; occasional insanity & moments of despair; impatience for dithering; good phone voice; faith; hope; color & light Undecided on: marriage; children; place where I want to settle down. Convince me. References available upon request. References required. Serious candidates only need apply.

With the exception of electrical & carpentry skills, he's got it all, because even though he says he can't dance, I sure love to dance with him.