I have been silent for several months. This is not my fault. My nom de real life decided to pack her bags and move halfway across the country, without pausing to consider how a move of 850 miles might inconvenience me.
Fortunately I was able to influence her into relocating to a strategically valuable destination. My car now serves as a marketing tool, for instance:
That's Lucy's license plate, completely accurate, even down to the state. Free publicity, every time I drive.
Our new home is ideally located for my research. We are near to Cherokee, Lucy's ancestral homeland on her mother's side, and Asheville, the setting of Lucy's first book, Witch Way.
Speaking of: in response to my queries, three literary agents have now asked to see my manuscript. That's not too shabby. According to the best stats I could find, literary agents solicit manuscripts in response to no more than four percent of the queries they receive.
Agents then offer representation to less than one percent of those manuscripts, but I'd rather not think about those odds just now.
Instead I will be grateful that I am now in the same time zone as New York City, the ancestral homeland of literary agents. There will be no confusing time adjustments, should one of those agents decide my manuscript makes the cutoff.