Today was one of those days where nothing particularly unusual happened,* but all of the usual happened all at once and never let up for a second.
I’m exhausted and tapped out and calling it a day before my nose hits the keyboard for the third time and I have to explain the odd checkerboard pattern embossed on my face to everyone all morning.
Actual content tomorrow, I promise.
Meanwhile, Janet Reid has some information on an interesting contest for aspiring, unpublished, American (sorry!) novelists (again, sorry!). It’s being sponsored by Fine Print Literary Agency and the prize looks pretty good.
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*Including, I’m sorry to say, the Incident Report I had to file this afternoon. I think things would be far less complicated if young men had antlers they could smack together—outside, if you don’t mind— to take the edge off.
Earful of Cider 