My proposal for the new novels isn't entirely sucky. In fact, my agent really liked my sample chapters, though she thinks the pitch paragraph needs more work, so that's what I've been working on, plus an additional sample chapter just because I kinda felt like writing it. So, Monday it'll go back to her and we'll see what she thinks. My agent is great with editorial feedback, and she gets back to me quickly on stuff, so I'm a very happy client right now. I'm also excited about these books. I really want to write them.

I just emailed a proposal for two books to my agent. I'm hoping she thinks it's absolutely perfect as-is and that I'm shopping for my private yacht by the end of the week.

Today's office was the Ocean Beach Pier Cafe, which is that little white speck at the end of the pier.



I was able to pick up bunches of wireless signals, even a couple from Crystal Pier in Pacific Beach, miles and miles away. I wonder if all that open water with no buildings in the way makes the signals bounce or something. Anyway, I couldn't actually sign onto any of those networks, not even the one for the cafe, but it was just as well, because it meant I spent less time websurfing and more time watching the surf.

They weren't really set up as a coffee joint. More as a quaint and salty breakfast/lunch joint. The waitress wasn't quite sure what to do with me in the nearly empty room. She even offered me a refill of coffee, which is so unlike a coffee joint that I'm afraid I stared at her for a while in utter confusion. Ultimately she brought me some water, and I think that satisfied her.



And apropos of nothing, man, I wish I lived on this street in Dana Point:

Rush!

Yes, I saw Rush again, last night, in Irvine. This time Lisa got to go, and we used the occasion of the show to have a leisurely drive up the Pacific Coast Highway between San Clemente and Laguna Beach.

In San Clemente a guy in traffic got me to roll down my window and asked if we were, in fact, on the Pacific Coast Highway, and if it would take him to Irvine. I told him we were, in fact, on PCH, and that even though we'd never taken this route, we believed it went to Irvine, as that's where we were headed. Even though the show wasn't for another five hours and we were probably only an hour away from Irvine, and Irvine's a city of almost 200K people and there are many reasons to go there that have nothing to do with Rush, he held up his Rush baseball hat with a questioning look, and then we hung devil's horns and screamed "RUSH!!!" at each other until traffic separated us.

The show was quite terrific. Of course. Even though the crowd was kinda lame. I mean, who sits during Neil Peart's drum solo? Who sits through "Natural Science," for crying out loud???!!

I did quite a bit of head banging, which aggravated my sore shoulder which I made sore last weak by sitting. I'd call this a sign of aging, only I've been doing stuff like this for decades.

The fact that I've been doing this for decades -- 21 years of Rush shows -- now that's a sign of age.

***

On the way up we stopped at a very nice coffee joint in Dana Point, where I finished a draft of a proposal for two books. I used Scrivener for this, and I loved how easy it was to juggle notes, an outline, a synopsis for each of the two books, sample chapters, and be able to quickly display and reference the short story these books are based on. I might try to draft the first book this way. Assuming somebody buys the books.

So, I'm writing a proposal for a series grown out of my story, "The Osteomancer's Son."

Among the dramatis personae are the protagonist's ex, Carmen, and their daughter, Miranda.

I named them Carmen. And Miranda.

This wouldn't make me cringe quite as much if they hadn't already appeared in the story, published two years ago.

ETA: Okay, I must be tired. In the story I actually named her Connie. So I was only about to introduce new error rather than repeat existing error.

So tired. Rush show was awesome, fun time had by all. Bought a tour shirt, my first since "Hold Your Fire" in 1988. That one was a flimsy, long, narrow tube with sleeves, like a t-shirt made for asparagus. This one is very much more shirt-like.

Since there was miraculously no traffic between San Diego and LA, I never once had to dip below 70mph and made it to Culver City with time to spare, which I used productively at a coffee joint to do some outlining-type stuff on the new novel.

In the news, a teacher is accused of wizardry for making a toothpick disappear.

Starting a new book!

Just tippy-typing some notes so far, actually.

I'm at a very pleasant coffee joint in Pacific Beach. I like this neighborhood. It's far enough north from Garnet Ave. that it might not be full of bar-hopping knuckleheads at night. And I can see ocean when I look down the street. Definitely an area to check out when the current lease runs dry in a few months.