While I'm waiting for my first edits to come back from my publisher as per the timeline set forth in the editorial calendar, I started querying agents for a second novel. I would still like to be represented by an agent at some point in my career and thought this would be the perfect opportunity to send a batch out. The Blood Red Pencil has an informative post up about acquiring an agent and there are many other sources for "dos" and don'ts", Nathan Bransford and Janet Reid being two of my favorites.
I also need to start the process of creating an author website. Word Press has good templates and website building is a good accompaniment to the querying process. I already purchased my domain name YvonneOsborne.com so nobody can snatch it up. The plan is to put up pictures of my garden, my cat, my cluttered desk, dad's old Corona, the first strawberry of the season, etc. and start a sign up for my mailing list.
On a different track (warning...and some might find this inhumane and offensive) there was a family of baby groundhogs invading the garden, nibbling on the onion tops and the strawberry plants and eating baby cabbages when the wind blew the row cover askew. This is financial ruin to an organic gardener. You can imagine the time, sweat, and expense that goes into a one-acre garden. To cut to the chase, my sister and daughter, who were weeding the garlic, discovered the intruders hovering where the tall grass grows, but they were too squeamish to knock them over the heads with their shovels. Sister ran off to get her dog, the varmint killer, but Sarge arrived too late for they had all escaped back into the creek bed. All but one.
An hour later my husband was on the tractor, tilling the perimeter when he spotted a furry creature on the top of the deer fence half hidden by the wild raspberry canes. He called me over to "come see!" There it was with his sharp little teeth hissing away. Hubby said, "I should have had my pellet gun with me." I was like, well knock him down. Do something! He rummaged in the built-in tool box behind the seat of the tractor and came up with a can of WD40. He sprayed the bejesus out of him. I couldn't look, but he said it dropped like a wasp under a stream of wasp spray. The underbrush was too thick to find him, so he didn't know if it killed him or just taught him a lesson.
The next morning I found a dead groundhog outside my greenhouse door. What was this? The mama dragging him by the scruff of his neck to lay him at the feet of the perpetrator?
Anyway, that's it for now. Out and about, over the bend.