Slept til 8:30. Walked Finny. Read poems by Charles Wright. Made a lunch designed to empty as many containers as possible: reheated pesto penne with cherry tomatoes, corn on the cob, the last wedge of cantelope, and for K, a heated up salmon burger with avocado and impromptu aioli.
So now I’m upstairs and already identified another agent I’d like to query (why do they all look like they’re 28 and, does it matter?). It’s an online form submission, which is tedious in the extreme. All those boxes to fill!
I’ve written a query letter and a synopsis by now. I’ve assembled the requisite comparable titles. But I still struggle with bio (I like dogs?) and blurb (aka elevator pitch). How do I say what my novel is about in three sentences? It gets me every time.
It was an unusually busy weekend. Hallelujah for that! We went to Boston’s MFA on Friday to see the Philip Guston show that Maggie mentioned on Instagram. More later?
And last night we had a nice dinner on the North Shore with fireworks as an unexpected finale.