I stopped at J.C. Penney's, intending to pick up another pair of jeans to go with my size 12s. Just for kicks, I tried on the 10s... and they fit! (Snugly, and with a bit of muffin-topping, but no more snugly than the 12s were when I got them back in November or December.)
And I went to the Chocolate Affair with Vicki Saturday night. Which blew my diet a
I slept in a bit Sunday morning, and woke up with an idea for how to set up my characters for a problematic scene in the story I've been headworking for the last week or so.
And in the afternoon, I got an email from Torquere Press that started off: "I read your story, and I'd like to take it for publication..." and went on to discuss the general terms, including the royalty percentages to be paid quarterly. Can I say that again? Royalty percentages. It's not a huge press, but even if it only sells 10 copies of the novella over the 2 years of the contract, I'll still be a paid author. That made my day. My week. Possibly even my whole month. Professional publication has been a huge item on my bucket list for at least twenty-five years, now.
(Of course, it'll be interesting when it's time to share this wonderful news with my family, as it's not exactly the most family-friendly thing I've ever written. But that's a bridge that I'll cross when I get to it. I may wait until I've signed the contract and have a solid publication/availability date.)
And today, of course, I'm not at work. Which timing couldn't be better if I'd planned it that way.