7 Jun
          One of the Corporals at work is having trouble with rabbits raiding his garden. Problem is, his wife won't let him shoot or trap them, and asking them politely to leave has gotten him nowhere. I suggested maybe he plant some garlic. See, that way when the rabbits eat it, they'll get this real bad case of bunny breath, severely cutting down on their chances of ever getting laid. Eventually, no more bunnies. With ideas like that, is it any wonder I'm a Master Corporal?

          Women interact on a totally different social level than men do. For the past few weeks Pen had been getting gifts from people at work--going away presents from customers, co-workers, and friends. She's gone out to lunch with several of them, they've laughed, cried, and basically made a total spectacle of themselves. My experience at work has been totally different, of course. More along the lines of: "What? You still here?"

12 Jun
          I just got a lovely form letter rejection for Darkside from Anne Sowards at Ace Publishing. Oh well, at least she actually replied. I'm having my mail forwarded to the new address for six months. With the way publishers and agents are, that's probably not near long enough. Is it just me, or does it seem like all of my friends are getting agents or getting published? I'm starting to feel like the smelly kid at school.

13 Jun
          Editors, agents, and publishers will have you believe that they're just ordinary people. That they actually enjoy reading, are searching for new authors, and would like nothing better than discover some unknown talent from the slush pile. HA! They're spawns of hell, I tell you. Well, if not actually spawned there, I'll bet you dollars to dog nuts that's where they're headed when they die. 
          Ninety percent of them are nothing but frustrated English majors. These are the people who conned you into watching The Piano because of its "artistic merit," and go ga ga over Thelma and Louise. (At least half of them are frustrated women--although the part at the end where they died wasn't bad). They probably couldn't write a novel to save their lives, know nothing about marketing, and the only qualification the do have for the job is the fact that they're willing to work for peanuts.
          They're evil, I tell you. Just when you think you might actually be able to coast through life a bit--you know, no major ups or downs for a while--they dig out that form letter rejection they've been holding onto for the past six months and mail it to you.
          But I'm not bitter.

17 Jun
          The movers are here to pack up my stuff, including this computer, so I'll be relatively out of touch until I arrive in Victoria. Until then I'll be checking my email at sks_perry@hotmail.com. Of course, that means this webpage will go down soon, too. I'll send everyone the new link as soon as I have it. Until then:

Be Well, Live Well.