I'm averaging a weekly post and, given the lack of anything interesting or noteworthy in so far that I'm observing, I guess that's not too bad. I could always stand to post more frequently though, dear blogspace, so I'll attempt to do so.

Query rejections are bound to happen. So far, my queries I've sent out have garnered a 33% rejection rate. The other 67%, however, are simply no-replies. Having that query in agency-pick-up limbo, suspended in some cruel, unknown balance, is worse than getting a "no." But, life's a bitch.

I saw a writer's pitch coming up on Monday. The plan is to attend and knock it outta the ball park, major league style (minus the frothy 'roid mouth, of course). I think I stand a good chance of success in the long run. After all, I'm not setting out to write the next young adult blockbuster saga, or the next Great American novel, dripping with timeless satire and social meaning.

My goal as a writer is to craft comedic works, whether cheap laughs or intellectual wit, and thus etch out a meager to moderately successful (moderately is relative) living. If bringing home the fatback bacon bucks is the real American dream, I'll settle for some nice salami dollars; tasty enough, but not so rich that my arteries clog.

I wish I lived in New York right now so I could watch the pigeons do their thing. I sometimes experience spontaneous familiarity with flying rats. Go figure.