A bit like Pebbles

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Thank you to Chesapeake Ribbons for the lovely hair bow!

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Dear New Writer (Who Probably Googled 'Book Publishers for New Authors' to Get Here)

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This just landed in my inbox, and I'm going to publish it here because I get a variation of this letter at least once a month. It's starting to make me a little loopy. Dear Jenna, I've completed my first manuscript a few months ago and have since received 7 acceptance letters, however 5 are from "self-publishing" companies. One from PA and one from Dorrance. PA has already sent me a sample contract and an Aug. 1st deadline but after reading your comments, now I more confused then ever. Bottom line, I have no funds for Publishing law firms nor Self-Publishing companies. I'm looking for the name of a legit company that can help me without costing an arm and a leg. Okay, new writers, this one's for you. Let's dissect what's wrong with this question: He says has received 7 acceptance letters, but five are from "self-publishing companies." (Which are not actually "acceptances," but rather sales pitches.) Our first dilemma is that he ...
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The "My Words Matter" Pledge

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Okay, I've found something important to do. Been a while. The word "retard" makes me physically ill like no other word possibly could. Today, I've begun asking for trouble. I'm showing up on message boards and blogs and asking people to take a pledge not to use the words "retard" or "retarded" as synonyms for "stupid." Yup. I know I'm going to get flamed. Yup. I know people really, really enjoy using the word "retard," and some people think it's just dandy to make fun of retarded people. But I'd be a lousy sister if I sat back and didn't say anything and didn't try to do something to make his world a little better. I think I'd rather get smacked for trying to do something right than to keep hoping someone else will fix this problem. I figure that someone had to be the first person to ask people to stop using the word "nigger," too. Hence this little pledge. Perhaps you'll sign it? Read i...
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Excuse my bumbling background erasing skills

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but this is one of my favorite pics ever. Also, the other day, I bought Sarina a toy guitar at a garage sale, and there were no batteries in it. Sarina spotted the guitar and tried pressing its buttons. "It broke," she told me. "It just needs batteries," I said. She walked into the living room, pulled out the television remotes, and removed the batteries from them. "Got the batteries!" she announced. 17 months old. I love this kid. P.S. I'm getting divorced. It's not something I want to talk/post about, but it's something that's awkward having people not know about for so long. So there it is.
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