Ode to a sinus infection

There was a little Neti pot

Its spout was cold as ice

They promised it would heal my world

But all I found was vice

I gathered up my courage

I swore I wouldn't flip

But all I found was evil

As my nose began to drip

Well I've had better Januarys. I've spent the last few weeks in a sinus infection-induced haze of vertigo and cold meds and it has made me make a few questionable choices such as sending off a ghost story instead of a more historical piece (will be remedied this weekend) and buying a truckload of essential oils to make my hair grow long and lustrous. Right now I smell like a field of flowers barfed on my head.

Promotion for the Girls' Ghost Hunting Guide is kicking into full gear, I have a meeting next week to bandy ideas about with Sourcebooks. My husband is ready to market the heck out of the chicken ghost on the Today Show though I'm trying to talk him out of sewing a rooster waddle onto a ski mask and frightening children in the crowd. We're planning on hitting the plaza in late May/early June so stay tuned for us being drug away by New York's finest on camera.

Remember the Ghost in a Jar auction on eBay years ago? It launched a thousand tiny cottage industries with t-shirts and spin-offs. How does something so silly get so out of hand? Genius, my friend. I wish I had thought of it.  Maybe Bryan's onto something?

How Daniel Craig is helping my writing process

Last night, as I was feverishly wading out of an inner ear infection and rampant vertigo, I started concentrating on my next project to get my mind off of falling out of bed. It occurred to me that the process for fiction may be broken down into manageable chunks, or in this case – hunks.

Ergo:

Any questions? Naturally there's more to good writing than just staring at a perfectly formed man and... what was I saying? Anyway, Mr. Craig will be soon be framed and hung (hush now) over my bed monitor in case I need a little inspiration. 

Which part of the body are you on in your manuscript?