I am dying today. Sheer exhaustion. My brain is full beyond belief! I was telling a friend that I wish there was some type of brain bulimia where I could just puke some of this information out of my head.

I am still sitting in my bed. There is a 3 foot pile of crap at my feet from the conference I still have to go through, a checklist 6 pages long of tasks I want to complete, and I've only had one cup of coffee because there is no cream in the fridge and this joint doesn't have room service!

It is so bad, I am still in my pjs and am only wearing one sock. I have no idea where the other sock went. I am pretty sure I had it on at one point this morning.

So here is the dealio. I AM writing my half of "The Lost Hour" as promised. And I am waiting for Wingman to get his shit together and get me his POV. (I don't care if he had a 12 hour travel day yesterday! Get me that copy Mad Man!) 

Some things I can tell you: I broke down and pitched my idea to an agent.

Yes, I already self published Dream Walker and had decided not to even try to pitch to an agent. But this agent specializes in screenplays and television, as well as books. So at the very last minute, because of another weird synchronicity that occurred, I decided to get in his line and spew an impromptu pitch at him.

While everyone else had spent hours, indeed DAYS, writing and re-writing their pitches...I sat down and winged it.

I TOTALLY have to give a shout out to Lee Tidball for helping me understand the LA/screenwriting/pitch thing. Using phrases such as "in the vein of" helped me get his attention. I also used the treasure: "transmedia potential" which I am sure gave him a boner. OH! And I also described my novel as "Quantum" fiction, rather than the generic "science fiction." His eyebrows raised and he started asking questions. Good stuff.

He asked me to send him my query, synopsis and chapters.

Either way it goes... I will either get a six-figure movie option deal or a beautiful rejection letter to frame and hang on my wall. Every writer needs one of those, right? Or maybe not. Maybe I can be the one and only writer ever on the planet to never get one of those! ROTFLMAO!

I also want to tell you that Ivan the Not-So-Horrible waiter got me out of my seat at breakfast yesterday, took me to the windows overlooking the city and told me even MORE conspiracy theories about the area that totally fit into my next book. I am beginning to think that Muse was channeling through this man, speaking to me in the flesh. Crazy, crazy shit!

Okay... I've got to go. I've got to go find my sock!

Shannan

We live in the fiction.