Outside my window on this crisp Chicago morning, I can see a worker in a brown Carhartt jacket halfway up a shiny ladder, head and shoulders lost in the shadow of the apartment building’s green awning.

I’ve got my six Tier 1 agents, though only one of this bunch wants an exclusive look. I’ll mail that office today or tomorrow, and mail the other five when the window of exclusivity ends. In the interim, I’ll split my energy between new writing and revisions to Witch of the Colonies.

I can see the workman coming down now. Turns out he’s the guy who owns the building.