1. My favorite book-buying kid just stopped into the shop again tonight. He bought another Captain Underpants, explaining that his school only has two copies of this particular volume and they are in high demand. I replied that I hate giving books back, that it’s much better to own my own copies. He answered, “That’s exactly why we’re in an economic crisis right now” and then gave me a 20 cent tip.

2. I’m still dreadfully behind in my blog reading. I know you’ll forgive me, but that’s not enough for me. I want to be there, all up in your business. I miss you. And listen, if something huge has happened to you and I’m the dick who hasn’t commented in some way? Never be afraid to email me a verbal slap upside the head. I’m not kidding.

3. Since you were all so curious and supportive about this past weekend, I’ll just tell you: I was meeting with magazine editors. It was like speed dating for writers, like seven job interviews in a row. It was exhausting, terrifying, and ultimately exhilarating. Now you know.

4. The contest has ended! The new owner of Alicia’s beautiful pair of earrings is Cathy at Noble Pig. Congratulations!

5. Finally, the announcement.

If I had to guess, I’d say it’s about 400 square feet. Maybe even 500. I was so excited I forgot to ask.

It is old. It is rich with character and water stains, built-ins and cobwebs. It has freshly scrubbed window sills; a carefully swept pine floor, painted brown. It has stairs for sinking down into inspiration, high vaulted ceilings for dreaming up. It has a donated desk carried in by friends, and a vase-full of fresh flowers delivered in person by my worried but always supportive husband.

The copper key seems to sparkle even more in my palm.

It is a writer’s studio, and it is mine.