Miss Snark brings us the tale of the Sobol Award. You can link to the site from there, but you should read the commentary. In a nutshell, the award is being offered by a literary agency for unpublished, unagented writers. It all looks very fishy, especially since there seems to be no literary agency by that name. They expect 50,000 entries, and each entrant is supposed to pay an $85 entry fee.
Whoop! Whoop! Sound the red alert! Yeah, I know: That means changing the light bulb. I did some digging into this and sent what I found to P&E and hopefully they'll find it useful.
The heat continues. Just in case you wonder why I have such trouble working in this weather:
I shot that in the office not very long ago. It's actually four degrees cooler in the living room. I guess it's the lights and the heat from the equipment. We keep the lights in the living room off. (The middle number is the room temperature.) I've got fans going, but it's still too hot to even think about writing. And that's bad as I've still got a killer deadline approaching.
Oh, yeah: I wasn't going to blog today. The trip to the hospital got postponed as the relative isn't ready to be released yet.
Still following Karen's saga about Wikipedia. I am simply stunned. Some people just don't get it. Oh, Karen gets it. I'm talking about others.
Better run and finish dinner before I go melt into a pile of sweat.