we three kings of orient are

I would love to be a king of the orient. Sadly, I am merely a middle manager in a mainstream tech company, with delusions of becoming a successful novelist. I shall persevere, though, even if it means continuing to feel like I have two full-time jobs until one of them is either so successful or so all-consuming that I quit the other one.

I'm committing to writing more frequently in the romance blog (sararamsey.blogspot.com). Or at least, I've done it for the past two days; we'll see how long I can continue, but it's important to start building my online presence while I'm beginning the long slog towards publication. It seems a little strange to spend more time building an online presence for a pseudonymous persona than I do on genuine personal online interaction with my real friends -- but my real friends can't sell my novel, so my capitalist heart says c'est la vie. That doesn't mean that I intend to cut my real friends off (I'm actually setting a goal for the new year to either stay in touch with the people I'm still in touch with, or get back into touch with the people I see/talk to rarely), but it will likely happen over email or coffee (depending on location) rather than the ubiquitous Facebook.

I had a good day in the heartland. I finished wrapping some more presents, read most of the book on pitching to agents (more on that on the romance blog in the next couple of days), and escaped the house for an hour to run an errand with my father. While it was warmer today (~30), it still didn't get above freezing, and the two inches of snow we got last night merely added some padding to the thick layer of ice that still covers the roads. We're supposed to get more snow tonight, so we shall definitely have a lovely white Christmas. I must say that, while I wish it were a bit less icy, I'm glad that there's so much snow -- in a freezing winter wonderland, abandoned farmhouses and bleak landscapes look picturesque rather than depressing, and you can revel in the charm for a few moments before you remember that your homeland is rotting away.

But tonight is not a night for melancholy; it's the night before Christmas Eve! Merry almost Christmas!