So here's the deal. All of a sudden I have IDEAS! For novels! Lots and lots of novels!
This is really, really unusual for me. I'm the kind of writer who's always sure that this will be my last post. Or column. Or article. Or novel. BECAUSE I WILL NEVER EVER HAVE ANOTHER IDEA! Yup. That's right. I'm positive that the old Idea Well will have gone dry the next time I go drilling. But for some reason right now, baby, I am Jed Clampett striking oil. And that's (kind of) my problem right now. To mix my metaphors here, I don't know which idea I should persue, commit to, marry, have a kid with, etc. Because I think that's what you should do. Commit. Otherwise you'll end up chasing possibilities and never eally setling down to anything. Still. It's hard. Because yes. There are just a LOT of good-lookin' ideas out there . . .
On another completely unrelated note I went to the Festival of Trees with my friend Doni this weekend. AND I wore a Christmas Sweater, which takes a certain amount of confidence these days because they're always telling you on HOW NOT TO DRESS that no one except the elderly and first-grade teachers should wear holiday sweaters in public. But come on. Who can resist a turquoise sweater with pink and lime green applique snowmen on sale for half-price at Smith's Marketplace?
Not me, apparently.