What is it, exactly, that I’m supposed to be doing? I get bored. I’m not sure what to do with all that time. I feel that I should immediately start crafting another novel–but what should this one be about? I had such a fabulous time writing from the perspective of my male characters in SP (again, SP is the book I will be contacting agents about as soon as it’s 2008!) that I’m thinking my next book will be seen entirely from the minds of men. I like how they think. It’s so primitive–and by that I don’t mean dumb, I mean straight to the point. I’m picturing a group of otherwise respectable dudes converging raucously on Las Vegas for a weekend of debaucherous fuck-all, unbeknownst to their significant others, with strippers and hookers and drinks and drugs and thousands of dollars and perhaps even a race to the nearest clinic to obtain a morning after pill. Does it sound like it’s been done before? Probably because it has–every weekend here in Sin City.

Or, I could work on the sequel to SP–the silly little plot of which is already developing in my head and the first few pages of which have already been typed into a document on my computer. I won’t give too much away, but the sequel to SP (which we will call HP, going forward) will be a parody of society’s burgeoning obsession with celebrity gestation and will involve the kidnapping and ransom of a teacup Chihuahua named Honeypie. Most of the characters from SP will return and there will be a host of outrageous others added to the mix. If you want to know more about the faux, yet very realistic version of Hollywood that exists in these books, please write your nearest literary agent and acquisition editor to beg their publication.