I called work this morning and discovered Asheville got virtually nothing compared to us, and yes the office was open. I shoveled the driveway in record time (wrenching it into utter agony, I must admit; I'm getting old) and drove in. We're expecting more snow tonight, threatening tomorrow's play starring Your Sister's high-school celebrity crush.
I had two opportunities drop in my lap.
1. A writing contest for a new creator-owned super heroine. A large publisher wants to start a new series with a brand-new character, and they're taking brief descriptions from applicants. Then voters will determine whose proposal becomes a comic. It's comics version of American Idol. I have plenty of these characters ready to package this way, and I'm giving myself a ten-proposal quote to fill.
2. A local book publisher needs a creative director, and the job sounds right up my alley. Unfortunately, it's also in Asheville, so unless it pays much more than the current job, it does me no good to apply. The commute would still be a problem.
I'll keep you informed.
Moving Picture of the Day
Your Sister says hi.
The GOP primary in South Carolina is tomorrow, and Huckabee is courting the locals by equating homosexuality with bestiality and supporting the state's right to fly the Confederate flag.