I can't imagine WHY you'd want something whimsical and harmless in your inbox these days, but I thought I'd send it regardless. Along with a photo of my dog, because corgis are living memes of cuteness...
Now the light verse: I revisited my good ol' days of writing parody, the other week. I heard that song by The Nails, "88 Lines About 44 Women," and thought someone should write one about 44 women writers instead. Finding no one had, I went ahead and did so. You can read it here, and I think it will still be fun to read even if you don't know the (admittedly kind of obscure) song. And don't worry if you haven't read several of the writers listed. Confession: neither have I! I hadn't even heard of a few of them until doing research for the song.
As you may know, I live in Seattle, and times are especially eerie here right now, though it sounds like they're becoming that way globally. The best thing we can all do, I think—aside from obeying the advice about social distance and hand-washing—is keep planning for a brighter future. Write things, make things, think of solutions to things, plant things, take care of things and of each other. Keep your sense of humor and your appreciation for cute animals.
Meanwhile, I have Lava Red Feather Blue to finish editing, new books to write, and The Chicago Manual of Style to study, and I'm grateful to have all of that. May you find plenty to enjoy, even in this time of enforced isolation. Drop me a line and say hi. I truly hope you're well.