What are you doing the rest of your life?

Today I got the news I'd been waiting for.

If you read my blog regularly you know that a few months back I learned that my romance publisher, the Arabesque line (most recently owned by Harlequin), was dropping me. I have been waiting for an explanation ever since, and quite frankly, I was beginning to think I'd never get one.

I confess that this treatment did give rise to some "What's wrong with me all of a sudden?" feelings, although I couldn't imagine why. My sales have been respectable, especially considering that my romances are missing much of the fantasy element that many readers adore. I haven't cussed anybody out or done anything otherwise to tick them off. So why was I getting the shaft, and why no explanation other than some vague mumbo-jumbo?

That syndrome didn't last very long. I took a peek at the upcoming title list, and it doesn't take a Ph.D. in neuroscience to figure out what direction the imprint is headed and why I don't fit into it. But it's nice to hear it directly from the horse's mouth (well, directly through an intermediary), even semi-officially.

So what happens to my writing career as far as romance is concerned? (My mainstream is alive and well, in case you're wondering.) Where do I fit in? Do I even want to fit in?

What I'm going to do right now is nothing. I'll be Fedexing a manuscript in the mail to my mainstream publisher early next week (because I want it there by Friday and I'm too cheap to use anything but Ground service), and then I'm going on vacation with my husband and celebrate my birthday. I'm turning fifty and will probably ponder a lot of things in the coming weeks, like what I want to do with the rest of my life.

Time isn't exactly running short, but at this point it's safe to say that there are more yesterdays than tomorrows. I don't necessarily want to spend it trying to fit in.