There are so many mysteries in life. I’m a deep
drinker thinker, but I just can’t wrap my brain about some things. You guys are smart. A little help here?
When the driver gets off the bus, who closes the door?
Why do we turn down the car radio when we are looking for an address?
Where is all the information on the Internet stored?
What do blog spammers possibly hope to accomplish?
Does anyone own a Ginsu knife?
Who was the first person that looked at an oyster and thought, “Yum-o. That looks delicious. I think I’ll eat it. Better yet, I’ll add a dash of Tabasco and eat it raw.”
How do weeds grow in the cracks of the sidewalks yet some flowers in my garden are struggling?
Excuse me while I gag, but who in their right mind thinks having gauge earrings is a good look?
The list goes on and on, but my last one for you is a really poser . . . a stumper . . . a noggin’ scratcher. Albert Einstein failed the entrance exam for Mensa because he couldn’t answer the question.
Drum roll please.
How can I have the wherewithal to write 76,000 +/- words in my manuscript but I can’t compose a query letter?