The Dry Heaves of Destiny

Well, folks, I went and did it.  Did one more cut n' polish (down from 124,682 to 119,516, HA!), formatted, saved, attached, and sent to the Agent of My Dreams.

After thirteen years, I am no longer Writing a Book.  I have Written a Book.  I am Shopping a Manuscript.  I am Actively Seeking Publication.

I have pupated.

And I wouldn't have gotten this far without truly phenomenal people in my life.

So I was hoping y'all could help me celebrate.  If you're game, reply here with a link to a favorite post on your blog.  It can be anything - just anything you're especially proud of - and on Monday I'll post them up here so that we can see, notice, and applaud your most potent stroke of genius.  (With a tip of the hat to Jon Gibbs, Mr. Fur-Face himself, from whom I have received this sacred ritual.)

In the meantime, I'm off to have a quick barf, and then it's forward and onward to ArmadilloCon.  Gimme some good stuff, guys - as of now, I am fresh out!

Sorry, Venkman.  I'm terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought.