And onward we march....

My agent sent my humble little Egyptian historical novel out on wider submission today. I am flattered, excited, intimidated, and generally discombobulated by the list of publishers who will be seeing my book -- or at least the pitch letter for my book. It's really a great list of houses and imprints. What an exciting thing, to have a chance to run with the big dogs!

Here's hoping for the best. I will try not to make myself crazy while we wait. I vow that I will check my email only three times per day. The rest of my time will be spent working on Book 2 and percolating all those other great ideas that want to turn into historical novels.

I'm tinkering with some plans to do my own take on Aristophanes' The Birds (god, that sounds so pompous -- who the hell am I to do "my own take" on Aristophanes?! But I just love the story so much, and it would be so fun to play around with it.)

The Pocahontas idea is still sloshing around my brain. I haven't done nearly enough learning about the people or the setting, though, for that idea to be anything other than a meager little zygote.

And I am still in love with my Harry Houdini novel, and will eventually get back to researching and outlining that one. The problem with it is that it wants to be long. Really, really long. It's definitely one that will have to wait until my career is well established and editors are happy to look at books by Libbie that far exceed the usual 90,000 words.

I think, though, once I've gotten the Thutmosides out of my system, I will then start putting serious work into The Horse Fiddle, a book I've been sort of mentally writing for several weeks now. It will be set in ancient Mongolia, and it will allow me to exorcise all the emotional torment I am currently feeling over my personal situation(s). Grief and sorrow are at least good for fueling memorable prose.

I like the way Stephanie uses cool pictures in all her blog posts, so I'm going to do the same from now on. It's fun. Why not?