Well, there I was working on my new Jamie Quinn mystery, "Jeopardy in July", trying to write a serious scene where Jamie is having a crisis and I end up with a ridiculous typo that just "cracked" me up. I also invented a new article of clothing! Check it out. :-P
Being a drama queen was so much easier than I'd thought.
All those years, I'd assumed my clients had to work at it. The recipe was
simple--take one mundane life, turn it upside down, shake vigorously. But, unlike
my client who had chained herself to the flagpole in front of the courthouse, or
the one who had smashed her husband's prize guitar in his workplace lobby, I
wasn't into performance art. I was more brooding, angsty. When my mother had succumbed
to cancer four years earlier, I'd found myself in a rut and for six months had hardly
left the house. Butt hat wasn't me anymore. Since then, I'd been through so
much and faked it so often that even I thought I had my act together.
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