Not the Led Zeppelin song, but The Novel. That is the title I've finally decided on for the project formerly known as either Meg or Garden of Weeds.
One day I was cruising down the road, stereo volume hovering around 16, as is required for Led Zep listening when it just hit me.
"Since I've been loving you, I'm about to lose my worried mind.
Everyone tried to tell me that you meant me no good."
And now in her third year of shuffling from door to door, nose pressed a la Stella Dallas against agents' windows, peering into the world of warmth and love reserved for the few chosen ones, but never knowing such herself, poor little Meg has dusted herself off and is once again in search of her place in world.
Thor sez: Does this mean you'll be cussing at the printer again?