My deadline is in 8 days. This is for a new publisher so I don't want to be late. Well, I wouldn't want to be late anyway, but especially not now. So of course everything that could possibly go wrong, does. Take my toilets for instance (please take my toilets and give me new ones!) I flushed the other day and it started to overflow. I cranked off the water and caught it just in time, scratching my head in confusion. Then my son remembered to tell me that when he flushed last, he'd just gotten out of the shower and pulled the shower curtain closed and one of my shower rings flew off, a lovely little angel with wings, and where else would it land except for the swirling waters of the toilet. He claims it was too late to grab for it. But personally, I don't think he would have anyway. So now I have an angel stuck in my toilet.
I tried to fish it out with my hand. Not fun. And it didn't work. Then I tried a pathetic little As Seen On TV declogger tool that I already had. The angel is apparently beyond it's reach. I went to Home Depot and bought a snake, but it's not working either. It's too big and clunky. I've tried everything except call the plumber, which I refuse to do. Mainly because I would have to clean my house before I would let him in, and I don't have time to clean my house. I have a manuscript to finish. I haven't even turned it in to my beta readers yet. I will get that angel out, darn it. In the meantime we're stuck with only one working toilet in a house with four people. And that, folks, ain't fun.
Another interruption in my deadline was much more fun. I attended the Virginia Romance Writers conference in Virginia Beach on Saturday. I drove down Friday night and hit the worst storm I've ever driven in. Lightning so bright it felt as if it pierced the brain. The rain was coming so fast the roads were covered. Traffic was doing 20 mph on I-64. When I finally got there, I got to meet a fellow Book Cents gal, Lara Nance, a super lady who is sooooo gracious. She's the president of Chesapeake Romance Writers and she had put out a spread of food, Tapas, that was just amazing. I wasn't even hungry and I ate like a pig. I stayed up late chatting with her and my agent, the amazing Christine Witthohn.
I roomed with Christine. We got far too little sleep and the next day was filled with workshops ranging from Voice with Barbara Samuel O'Neal (which was a fantastic class) to butlers and doddering housemaids to CIA operatives. I don't write historical, but I adored Janet Mullany's class on English servants. Very enlightening and fun. Just listening to her accent was fun. Another class was given by Alma Katsu Understanding the Intelligence Community. I discovered that I knew even less than I thought I knew. She's amazing. She looks like a kid and she was an analyst for something like 30 years. I want her beauty secrets. She swears she looks young because she's short. But I'm short and it isn't working for me. I sat next to a group of ladies at lunch and am now feeling a little more inclined to exercise my will power muscle. After I find it, that is. I didn't realize until halfway through the conversation that one of the ladies was Karen Solem, Lori Foster's agent. I adore Lori Foster. Cathy Maxwell was the speaker. She inspired me and made me laugh. She was funnier than stand up comedians I've seen.
And if I didn't have enough distractions, there is drama in the house from the kids. Caleb's ex girlfriend is trying to get him back and using his little sister to try to do it. Geez. I'll never get this book polished.