In Which I Discover My Destiny

So, first, the important news. I have learned from a recently played game of MASH that it is my destiny to marry Jason Bourne. We will have 32 kids and live in a house in Alpha Centauri, and we’ll drive a sparkly, polka-dotted duck boat. I will spend my days as a fire eater, and live happily ever after.

Personally, I’m a little surprised about the sparkly, polka-dotted duck boat. It sounds a bit conspicuous for Jason’s tastes, not to mention rather unmaneuverable when the inevitable high-speed chase occurs. I can only assume this means that once Jason moves to Alpha Centauri he’ll begin to feel like less of a hunted man, and have the chance to lighten up a bit. Good for him. He deserves a break from constant pursuit by politically-motivated and highly-armed head cases. Also, I’m totally psyched about the 32 kids, because, well, have you ever seen a baby goat? They are the cutest animals ever, and I’m sure that as they mature, Jason and I will find good homes for all of them — keeping a few of the best milkers for ourselves, of course, because nothing is more delicious than fresh goat cheese.
In other news, in about two weeks (June 27-28) I’ll be going to ALA in Anaheim, and, um, I’m nervous. There will be a Dinner With Me on Friday night, and on Saturday morning, from 9:30-10:30, I’ll be signing Graceling ARCs at the Harcourt booth. If you’re there Saturday morning, please stop by! If you’re lucky, you just might catch me bursting into tears out of sheer fright! Just kidding. Seriously, this is going to be my first public thing that I do, and I’m half so excited I could squeal, and half scared to death. *breathes* *breathes again*
One more startling piece of news: It seems that one night while I was sleeping, aliens came and transported me to the planet of This Is Not My Real Life. I know this is true, because on Saturday, my agent called to tell me to expect a call on Monday from a person at Famous Movie Studio We’ve All Heard Of, because they’re interested in possibly optioning Graceling and have some questions about the back story of the world I created.
Sure no problem.
By the way, alien captors, are the radiation levels on the planet of This Is Not My Real Life safe for humanoids? Because, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for space travel and all that, but when the day comes that you’re done with your wacky psychological experiments, I’d sure like to get home safe and sound.
(After all, I have a husband and 32 goats waiting for me in Alpha Centauri.)