Cover letter, check. First chapter and synopsis, check. Merde, that synopsis was dificile. From nine pages, I was able to whittle it down to eight and that was tough, but it's done. Marketing plan, check...well, that could use some tweaking. So, that's what I'm doing this morning--getting my package ready for a small press publisher. No easy feat, that's a lot of stuff to send out for un petite livre. Mais, c'est la vie aujourdui. That doesn't look right, doesn't it? But, I'm in the mood to speak French, so bear with me. I love speaking French. Anything to avoid that marketing plan!
For the last couple of days, le weekend complet, actualment, I went to bed earlier than usual. I had no plans with friends and woke up earlier. Huit heure matin is my normal waking time and then, it was seven and this bright and beautiful lundi morning, it was six. I was wide awake. I fall asleep thinking about my novel and I wake up thinking about my novel. I suppose c'est normal for a writer and I'm clear-minded in the morning, so the early morning hours works for me. So, bonjour mes ami!
At six this morning, my Pug, Ozzy, looked at me like something was seriously wrong. I pulled back the bedroom curtains and watched the soleil come up while Ozzy continued to snooze with one eye open. I don't know how he does that. Incroyable. I padded downstairs, Pug and Pierre, my cat, in tow and let Ozzy out. Pierre circled my ankles and jumped on the washing machine, meowing for breakfast, his favorite time of the day. Saumon et fromage est le menu du jour pour ma chaton, I told him as I nuzzled his neck. He's fluent in French, ya know. I speak broken French.
Minutes later, the Pug was sitting at la porte de la cuisine, staring up at me. His biological clock seemed to be stuck on eight o'clock. Maman, c'est fou! Je suis fatigue! I walked out and prodded him to pee. Ozzy kept looking back at me for moral support and courage like I'd just dropped him on a foreign planet. Pierre stood up against the kitchen door, his mouth moving as if to say, "Let ME out, I'll show him how it's done!" Non, Pierre. Tu est un chaton de l'interiur. I lured Ozzy onto the wet grass and of course...he pooped in my flower garden, right on les snapdragons, and my slippers are still wet.
NOTE TO SELF: Wear gardening gloves and look into some low fencing. Take a French refresher course, I need it.
The pets have been watered and fed, I brewed a nice cup of tea and my babies now napping. That didn't take long! So, now back to the marketing plan...wish me luck. Bonne chance a moi!
Happy Monday to you, wherever you are! Aren't ya glad ya read this Frenglish blog post?
Peace and love,