I just looked back at all of my blog posts from July.
With the exception of a couple of spectacular You Tube videos and some contests, I didn't really offer much by way of content. (Except for the pic of me with no make up and editing hair, but I figure if you make such a picture accessible to the world at large, no one can use it for blackmail.)
As to why my readers were treated to a month of fluff: I received my edits on June 30th.
Much like the month of May, when I was consumed with the DO THE WRITE THING FOR NASHVILLE auction, I don't really remember July. I know every spare second was spent with my revision letter and my manuscript. I'm pretty sure I changed lots and lots of things. You know, I like, revised and stuff.
I'm pretty sure I did a lot of research on subtext. Also, the following might have occurred:
My mother: How are edits on The Book? (I kind of think she doesn't know the name of it.)
Me: I'm working on subtext.
My mother: Give me an example of subtext.
Me: Every conversation we've ever had.
I might have had an unexpected phone conversation with a rather well-known actor, but we'll save that for another post. You know. When I've recovered. (I.E.: Stopped sweating profusely.) Oh okay, I'll share one tidbit (the only one I really remember). I ended the conversation with:
"Enjoy your hat and your day."
Because I might be a masterful conversationalist. Or I might be incredibly awkward.
I might have gained six (okay, eight, dammit) pounds. In one month.
My ass might now be as flat as the state of Iowa.
I might have met my friend Victoria for lunch without remembering to brush my hair.
I might have forgotten to wash out my conditioner on the very day my friend Jessica (who is also my hair stylist) came to drop off some books.
I might not be able to remember the names and ages of my children; they might want to take up permanent residence with their grandparents; and my husband might be considering replacing me with a robot. Or Sookie Stackhouse.
My bathrooms might be comparable to every gas station bathroom in America. Specifically, those that haven't been cleaned in a month.
I might have run a couple of stop signs in my neighborhood while trying to figure out a particular plot point.
I might have reenacted several scenes from the book, out loud, with blocking, while playing every part. And it might or might not have involved costumes.
Every plant in every pot on my front porch might be so dead that they're cripsy.
I might have been persuaded to buy a puppy, and I might have named him Harry Potter. And he might be the cutest puppy in the world.
And finally, I might have turned my revisions in, on time, on Sunday.
But I'm not sure.
I don't really remember July.
Enjoy your hat. And your day.