On Writing OR OH NOES, Ranting May Occur

I recently finished the first draft of Deadsville, a humorous urban fantasy mystery.  That's probably my first problem; I can't decide what genre it is, not that I finished the first draft.  I think I have to call it something so that I can sell it.  Urban fantasy works best I think.  I will write a brief line about its content and you all can tell me what it is.

Tavie Stone dies and then her day just gets worse.  She wakes up in Deadsville, where deadies hang out waiting for Reapers to come and take them away to their final judgment.  However, it's taking a long time because there are a lot of deadies and not a whole lot of judging.  In the meantime, Tavie discovers that Deadsville isn't just a static place with nothing going on.  On the contrary, there's mystery, murder, and mayhem, not necessarily in that order.  What's a former living police detective to do?  Why become the Sheriff of Deadsville, of course.

It is, of course, the first in a series, and I had a lot of fun writing it.  Plus I had help.  Even my daughter was suggesting funky ways for people to have had died.  There are whole websites dedicated to weird ways that people have died.  Plus there's the Charles Darwin Awards which is great reading for individuals who can't believe how stupid people really can be.  A Facebook fan suggested the show 1000 Ways to Die, which was almost as helpful.  (Of course, the difference between the two sites is that the Charles Darwin is, barring any that slipped past Snopes, is real, stupid people doing real, stupid stuff that ends up in death.  In some cases there's honorable mentions when they live.  The other site is about a show on Spike that presents an odd death and asks the viewer if it's real or urban legend.  We've all heard about Mikey and the coke with the Pop Rocks.  The actor probably giggles about that every time someone asks.)

See Mikey likes it.  And he's not really dead from consuming Pop Rocks with soda pop.  In fact, he's an advertising executive somewhere, which is almost the same thing as being dead from consuming Pop Rocks with soda pop.  (I have an urge to go buy some Pop Rocks.)

Jeez, I meandered.  What was the point of this blog?

Oh, yes, writing.  So I wrote the book.  Now I have to edit it.  I have to get some other people to edit it.  I have to write a synopsis, which is like the curse from the mummy's tomb.  Then I have to contact literary agents in order to convince them that they want to represent my shizz in order to sell it to a traditional publisher, which probably means that I won't be published for the next five years.

I think my relatives think I sit on my ass eating bonbons.  In fact, I don't even know what a bonbon is.  In fact, I'm pretty sure I have never eaten a bonbon.  Maybe I'll get bonbons with Pop Rocks.

Okay, off to work.