Outline the Heartache.
I stopped writing for a while. Well, here I did. Writing, though, is a daily occurrence. There's a new novel in the works, even though I'm still committing guerilla warfare on trying to find an agent. Or something like that. More like they are committing omission by silence or bizarre notes of "we love what we read, but we can't take you." Sounds like the story of my life. Always. Auto, rinse, repeat. There's a new academic piece coming out next month, or this. . . Depending on the press's literal press. There's a new academic piece, part of the forthcoming monograph I have a soft offer on, coming out next fall. My last monograph should hit paperback next month. There's a short story under final review. Wouldn't that be grand? The one aspect of my life I haven't broken into the publishing world on that I always said was what I wanted to do. As of recent, I'm waking up from seven days in the hospit...