It's A Beautiful Day

Although I have lived in New York City for five winters now, I can never, ever remember how much it hurts to breathe when it gets cold. Walking 10 blocks is a chore and my lungs are on fire (paradoxical when one things that it’s freezing outside) by the time I reach whatever destination I’m headed.

Which brings me to my news: today is the start of a new era. Obama is now officially our president and I have begun taking steps to pursuing a career direction change. I am now an intern at Writers House, working as a manuscript reader, mail girl, and all-around go-fer.

And I love it.

Granted they aren’t exactly paying me to do this, but hopefully with this internship under my belt, I can go out into the world and find a job that does pay me to read unpublished books and suggest editorial changes all day. Sounds pretty much like heaven to me.

(Actually, heaven would be working as an editor at Marvel or DC Comics. Preferably DC. Why yes, I am a DC girl, thank you.)

Writers House is situated in an amazing brownstone in Chelsea with crazy Victorian decor, Tiffany lamps, Bengalese rugs, chinoiserie wallpaper, twisty staircases, three floors and a garden level, and miles and miles and miles and miles of books. Miles. In beautiful glass cases. Imagine an eccentric writer from the 50s who smokes cigars and wears tweed jackets with leather patches on the elbows. Now imagine the house he might be living in. Yes, it looks exactly like that.

This past weekend was lovely and actually somewhat productive. Bear took me to school while he studied with his friends and I sat off to the side revising Elijah’s Chariot. The Kitchen Girls had told me that a certain scene in the second act just wasn’t working and after struggling with it for weeks, I came to the epiphany (late as usual), that they were right and cut it. There was no need to show the scene; other characters can reminisce about it later. The important part is the consequences of said scene, not the scene itself. Natch.

Reread both Jenny Davidson’s The Explosionist and Suzanne Collins The Hunger Games as I wait on pins and needles for The Queen of Attolia, The King of Attolia, and The Adoration of Jenna Fox to be delivered to me. They shipped from Amazon some time last week. I want new books to read, dammit!

Life is looking on the up and up. We have a hot new president (What? Don’t tell me you didn’t go there.), I’m on my way to breaking into my career of choice, revisions are progressing, and not even winter can dampen my enthusiasm.