Temporary Sanity

Toto, Toto!

2012-03-05T09:48:00.003-05:00

I am, of course, that person who makes inappropriate, flip comments in stressful situations.

Friday afternoon, I was sitting in my great glass elevator of a lab, and saw that there was a line of storms approaching the Greater Cincinnati area. Since I live south of the city, I couldn't decide if I should try to beat the storm home, or wait for the building to collapse around me:

It's a very pretty, cool looking building, but I don't have a lot of faith in the architechtural stability, and I KNOW it's not weather proof.

So I hit the road, and managed to make it almost home, when the weather guys started saying that tornados had touched the ground, oh, about 10 mile southwest of my neighborhood. So I did a little praying, admired the lovely hail and odd shaped black things that were falling from the sky, prayed a little more, and finally made it home.

The power went out, the storm passed, and we went outside to commisserate with our neighbors about how annoying it is that every time the wind blows, the power goes out, yada yada, wah wah wah. I mean, we had to read our kindles by candlelight! And the networks were so overloaded that our 3G smart phones took forevvvvvvver to load email! I am still trying to catch up with my Words With Friends games.

Finally, the power came back on, and I turned on the news, and immediately felt a little bit guilty for whining about a three-hour lack of electricity.

Because our neighbors, 8 miles to the south, got wiped off the map.

Three people near us died, but you've all heard about how many other people in Kentucky, Ohio and Indiana lost their lives, and everything else.

So, hey...if you are so inclined, I'm sure the Red Cross would appreciate a donation. You can skip the expensive sports car you were going to send me for my birthday tomorrow.

And The Next Contestant Is...

2012-02-27T08:04:00.003-05:00

I can't decide whether to gush over "Act of Valor" or "Walking Dead" this morning, so I'm going to skip both for now and talk about writing contests.

I'm pretty new to this contest thing. I joined RWA a couple of months ago and went to one chapter meeting...I'm definitely a "stick your toe in the water, wait five minutes, then submerge to one ankle" kind of a girl. Let's not rush it!

But then, since I was finally an RWA member, my crit parters, Mary and Dawn, suggested that I enter something in the NTRWA Great Expectations contest...so, after a whopping 48 hours of furious editing and emailing back and forth, "I" entered. I say "I", because if Mary and Dawn hadn't been willing to tear apart my entry six ways to Sunday, it wouldn't have gotten out the e-door.

Anyway.

"I" placed fifth out of 13 in the Contemporary Series category, and got some great feedback. Some of it was conflicting advice, which was also helpful...what one judge liked, another didn't. So I kept that part.

So now "I" have taken those suggestions; and have been tormenting Mary and Dawn again, and am going to enter NEORWA's Cleveland Rocks contest. We'll see. I may have edited the life out of it, but maybe not.

I'm also going to be judging, which is going to be even more interesting! I took a judging workshop, and learned a lot. I'm practicing how to say "don't quit your day job" in different words. Like:"Please keep writing in your spare time, some day you'll learn how to use "spell check.""

And, as The Big Guy often reminds me, I do know that I live in a glass house.

__________________________________________________________________________

And now for something completely different:

Last night was Zombie night. Yeah, I know, there was some awards show on, I did see J Low in a Saran Wrap dress, but I figure I'll get the highlights from MSN this morning and not have to sit through all the speeches and commercials.

I know I've said it before, but I love, love, love AMC's Walking Dead. They throw in a few nasty zombies every week, and last night's episode was especially crunchy and squishy. But it's not about zombies. It's about relationships.

Last night, Rick, who wears the white hat, had it out with his BFF Shane, who wears a camoflage hat.

I totally think Shane (on the right there), is smoking hot. It's that bad boy thing, dontchaknow.

Rick always tries to do the right thing...the traditional, what we all believe is the right thing thing.
But the zombie apocalypse has come, and the rules have changed. And Shane is working hard to redefine things. It's not quite clear how pure his motives are, but he does what he does with a lot of angst and nice muscles.

My Kentucky girl is also a bit in love with Daryl, who wasn't on last night. At. All.

In the last episode, Daryl hinted that his unresolved childhood issues might be coming to the surface. Okay, maybe "hinting" is a weak verb in this instance. He pretty much went on a rant at Carol, his possible love interest, and it was pretty clear that he wasn't upset about what he said he was upset about. That's as clear as the muddy water in an episode of Hillbilly Handfishing. You just had to be there. So maybe you should be there next week, and more will be revealed?

We also went to see Act of Valor yesterday. That's the movie with the real-life Navy Seals. It was pretty intense. It also requires kleenex.

If you Woke Up and Channing Tatum Said He Was Your Husband...

2012-02-20T09:08:00.001-05:00

Some things just don't add up.

My daughter and I went to see The Vow the other night, and after I got over my annoyance at all the skanky women in the theatre drooling over my imaginary boyfriend, settled back to enjoy the view.

If you aren't familiar with the story, The Vow is "based on true events" about this couple who are all in love, and they have a car accident, and the wife gets amnesia and doesn't remember meeting or marrying the husband. She wakes up thinking it's five years ago when she was engaged to another guy and living with her parents, and in law school.
So here is my problem:
When Rachel McAdams wakes up from her medically induced coma, and CT is standing over her bed, and he tells her he's her husband, she's all like, "Go away".

Ummm.

Really?

And he gets all devastated when she doesn't remember him right away...I'm no neuroscientist (Oh, wait. Yes, I am), but I know enough about head injuries (mostly from personal experience and reading romance novels) that doctors are going to warn you that there can be some confusion when the patient wakes up. But he's still run-out-of-the-room-and-collapse-next-to-the-Pepsi-machine devastated. I don't think that scene was necessary. I know that it was intended to show just how much he loves her and stuff, but it just seemed kind of too drama-queen for this moment.

Then, after she decides she's going to take his word that he's her husband (at least THAT part made sense), he brings her home from the hospital to a big-ass welcome home party, which doesn't go over well. And he does say, "I didn't know there would be so many people here", but still. Wouldn't you be more likely to go with, "Hey, some of our friends are going to stop by later", and then have too many people show up?

After those few dumbass scenes, the movie was pretty good. There was a lot of clever dialogue, cute, funny, sweet, romantic junk, while CT tries to make his wife fall in love with him. She never gets her memory back, and she moves back home with her parents, and there is pretty major Dark Moment stuff there (and a late-story Save the Cat moment).

And the nekkid butt scene was cool, but you gotta pay the $10 for that one, I don't have a picture to post here.

So here is my official review: Great Chick Flick, but don't bother trying to cooerce the Man Unit to go with you...he might snore as loud as the guy in the back row at our theater, and don't expect an Oscar Nomination for Best Actor, (or Best Screen Play) to come out of this one.

What does "Slow and Easy" Mean to You?

2012-02-17T07:49:00.002-05:00

Apparently, "slow and easy" mean completely different things to a 17 year-old boy and a 47 year-old mom.

But I'm recovered enough now to talk about it.

Last weekend, the Sam Stanley Experience and I went skiing in West Virginia with our Venture Crew (which is an older, co-ed version of Boy Scouts).

I learned to ski last winter at our local ski area, and I did...okay. Okay, if you don't count the minor head injury, the pulled hamstring and the anxiety attack on the ski lift (who knew? I'm afraid of heights!).

But like with childbirth, the memory of pain fades. When the chance to go to a "real" resort came around, I gladly waved my hand in the air to organize a trip. But this year, I decided I was going to do everything, but be extra careful. I would fight through my fear of heights and figure out how to ride the lift (and how to get off of it without too much damage), and I would go nice and slow and have a good time.

I found a nice instructor guy to help me figure out the ski lift, and I made it up the beginner hill. Then I came down the beginner hill. I felt a little wobbly--as in, my legs were shaking so hard that I almost fell over)--so I decided to take the complimentary beginner lesson. And I did GREAT. The nice instructor guys were very complimentary, and at the end of the lesson, said to go down the beginner hill a couple more times, then try Salamander Trail.

Okay: On that map right there, Salamander Trail is WAY over to the left, it's got a green circle on it. That means it's the easiest kind. It's also the longest trail in the area, at 2 miles.

And my son said, "it's slow and easy, Mom, come on, I'll do it with you!"

So I did. And it felt really fast. And I fell. So I got back up, went really fast again, and I fell again. All within the first 1/4 mile. And I was scared. And the Sam Stanley Experience was long gone.

So I took off my skis, and I walked down that hill. 1 3/4 mile, in 20 degree weather, with snow cannons blowing in my face, in God-Only-Knows how many feet of snow. Downhill all the way, fortunately, but O. M. G.

The upshot of this experience is that I got a major work out, and didn't feel guilty for taking off my boots and putting on my jammie pants for the rest of the day. I lay in my bunk reading a book. After that, I took a nice long shower and spent the evening, being the hot tea drinking person, with the other adults in the lodge playing Catch Phrase.

So. I get to cross something off my bucket list during the Decade of Living Fearlessly: "Learn to ride a ski lift without Xanax".
"Learn to go down a hill on skis" gets pushed back to next year. Maybe. And maybe with Xanax.

What does "Slow and Easy" mean to you? Get your mind out of the gutter. Or keep your mind in the gutter. Whatever.

Best Science Fair Project EVER, and How I'm Like a Navy SEAL

2012-02-06T14:58:00.002-05:00

My daughter's science fair is tonight (That's not her project, by the way). She did a good job, all by herself, with only minimal help from me...I was a test subject, and we now know that my heart rate is not affected by classical music.

Allow me to share the story of my own science fair project. I was in the ninth grade, and I wanted to examine the effects of water pollution on wildlife. I bought three goldfish, and put each one in a different jar.

I poured motor oil in one jar, and laundry detergent in another. The third was my control.

Interestingly, it took the motor oil fish a few days to die. I hypothesized that it was lack of oxygen that killed him, rather than acute toxicity, as in the laundry detergent jar...fortunately, I didn't do any further experiments to confirm this.

I also didn't get a very good grade.

But I DID go on to get both a BA and an MS in Zoology. Uh huh. Yeah. And I have been earning a living in science for a good 25 years now.

Anyway.

I am reading a book right now, The Heart and The Fist, by Eric Grietens, who is a SEAL and lots of other nice things.

In the first or second chapter, Greitens describes his own science fair project, which involved three tulips and a container of water, one of Coke, one of beer.

Do you see the similarity? I'm like, OMG, this guy and I could have been separated at birth, give or take ten years. We have SO much in common. I should totally write to him and invite him to dinner. We can talk about dumb science fair projects and...okay, maybe not much else.

Anyway. I'm really enjoying the book...it's not a complete testosterone-fest (not that I would complain about that), it's very well written, and this guy seems to be doing what he's doing for all the right reasons. He's also got this group, The Mission Continues, that gives fellowships to post-9/11 veterans to do service work. I'm a big fan of service work--not just because I'm a nice person, but because it is good for me...keeps me out of my own dark scary places. Check it out, it's pretty cool.

What about you? What is your science fair story?

Press One for American Sign Language

2012-02-03T08:17:00.001-05:00

I was watching the newest episode of Justified last night, loving my Marshall in the White Hat:

I just love this show. It's got all the good stuff...good guy in a white hat, his best friend who's a bad guy, but not a BAD bad guy; lots of BAD bad guys, some romance, humor, lots of plot lines, and a setting that is a little different.

If you aren't familiar with Justified, which is on FX, it's about a US Marshall, Raylan Givens, played by my imaginary boyfriend, Timothy Olyphant. It's set in rural Kentucky, and it's full of gangsters and drug addicts and drug dealers and gangster drug-dealing addicts. And most of them are white. And they live in trailers instead of tenements. They drive trucks instead of cadillacs. Their drugs of choice are meth, oxycontin, and good old fashioned marijuana--not crack, coke, heroine, or whatever other urban drugs are popular (okay, meth seems to be ubiquitous. But you know what I mean).

I don't love that rural Kentucky is being painted with a brush that suggests that most people living in trailers in the hills are drug addicts, but it's kind of cool that this show is shining a light on some reality...drugs and crime are hardly unique to urban areas. On the other hand, I don't think it's cool that people who drive through Appalacian areas are going to be even more worried about hearing banjo music (that was a Deliverance reference, in case I was being too subtle). If we are going to be doing racial profiling, is any ethnic group immune?

I was driving to work this morning (from Kentucky to Ohio) and followed a semi that had a big sign on the back that said something along the lines of "Why should I have to press one for ENGLISH?"

I thought, "Really? I guess if you live in ENGLAND you could be bothered--maybe. But you don't, dumbass. You live in A MELTING POT!" English was NOT the original language of North America. It just happened to be the language of the guys who had the most power at one particular time in history. There are a lot of Spanish-speaking people here. We need to learn some Spanish, maybe?

At which point I started thinking about how easy it is to assume that all Spanish speaking people are illegal immigrants, in which case...and then I smacked myself in the head...I don't know what the statistics are, but I would guess that the majority of Latin American immigrants in the US are here legally. But if you watch the news, you start to think that these people have all gotten here by crawling under some barbed wire and running from border agents.

Anyway. My point is, that as a writer, how do I know when chracters become offensive stereotypes? I am working on a story set in semi-rural Kentucky, and I've got some characters who are pretty indigenous to where I live. The truth is, I do have neighbors who drive trucks with gun racks and rebel flags. But I also have neighbors who are flaming liberals and soccer moms and Baptist preachers, and Catholic mothers of 13. Yes, kids, that was not a typo. 13 kids. Many of whom are home schooled. And all well-behaved. Although maybe we need to check behind the shed for a still--there's got to be a secret to how she keeps them all in line.

So if I include the Catholic mother of 13, can I keep my dental-impaired tobacco-chewing redneck?

The Replacement

2012-02-01T15:23:00.001-05:00

The kid thinks she's entitled to keep old What's His Name for her imaginary boyfriend, so being the good mother that I am, I've decided to step aside and find another one.

Jason Statham...now that's a REAL imaginary boyfriend's name.

What kind of pansy-ass name is Channing Tatum anyway? Totally made up. So have at him, daughter-mine!

See, my imaginary boyfriend is cool even in aviator sunglasses. And he rocks that unshaven look WAY better than you, oh scraggly Shaggy-boy.

Yeah.

Too Cute for My Imagination?

2012-01-30T10:20:00.000-05:00

My 14 YO daughter and I have been arguing over who gets to have Channing Tatum for her imaginary boyfriend. My husband says that's kind of hillbilly of us, but whatever.

I am thinking that I may have to let her have this one. He's just too damned pretty for me.

She Cried, He Roared.

2012-01-23T15:00:00.000-05:00

I picked up an old (10+ years) Sillhouette Something-or-Other to read last night. It's pretty good, and I'm definitely going to finish it. The problem is that the author used "she cried" and "he roared" about sixteen times each during one argument between the hero and heroine. Okay, maybe not sixteen, but a lot. Like more than twice.

Once was enough.

I got that they were yelling at each other right away, and unless one of them calmed down, I don't think I needed to be reminded about the volume of the speaker. I don't know if "he said, she said" would be better, or even if the dialogue needed identification...there were only two people in that scene, it was pretty clear which side of the argument each character was on.

Anyway--just wanted to share that, I thought it was a good reminder about taking it easy on those dialogue thingys.

Happy Monday!

Jealousy, Lies and Underhanded Dealings

2012-01-19T07:44:00.000-05:00

I mentioned a few posts ago that The Big Guy has been watching Spartacus on NetFlix. I tried really hard to ignore what he was watching, because, really...more Swords and Sandals? No thank you.

Except there are all these gladiators, and if they aren't completely naked, they are running around in something that I can only describe as a cross between a Speedo and a diaper.

Spartacus is not only smoking hot in his little outift, he's the ultimate tortured hero. I mean, seriously. Old Job would have a hard time being any more miserable than my sweet Sparty. He keeps getting betrayed, losing his wife, having to kill his best friend, wear a diaper in public...

Spartacus (hence the clever title), got himself stuck being a gladiator for this guy and his Skanky Ho wife:

Dominus (the gladiator master guy) has big aspirations, wants to be important, so he's always plotting to get ahead, and his Skanky Ho wife, Domina is always trying to help him and working her own little Skanky Ho plots, too.

Then there is this Evil Blonde Beyotch, who is the wife of the guy who double-crossed Spartacus early in the series. She has it in for him, and spends a lot of time trying to have him killed, even though in one episode they dressed up in dorky masks and got nekkid together, and appeared to be having a good time until they realized who they were nekkid with.

Then there is Poor Crixus, who is in love with a nice little Slave Girl, but keeps having to perform for the Skanky Ho Domina. He used to be the main champion guy before Spartacus usurped him:

This series is not for the faint of heart. There is a lot of nekkid stuff, and bloody gory stuff (and occassionally, the nekkid stuff and bloody gory stuff get mixed together, like the episode where a new guy got his winky cut off).

I would never have started watching this if The Big Guy hadn't dragged me kicking and screaming into it, but now I think it's totally worth the NetFlix subscription price. What the heck did we do before NetFlix and On Demand and Hulu, anyway? Oh, yeah, there were those DVD things.

Getting Lukcy

2012-01-17T08:07:00.001-05:00

I totally got Lucky this past weekend, and I just have to tell you all about it.

Is that not the worst cover ever? The guy on the cover is supposed to be a SEAL. You know, like this:

Okay, maybe it's not the worst cover EVER, but still...it's pretty damned bad. I've read all the Tall Dark and Dangerous books, most of them twice. I have them on my Kindle, a few paperbacks in re-released versions, but I always check the "B" section of the Book Rack, just because I want an original copy of Get Lucky.

When I heard Suzanne Brockmann speak a couple of years ago, she mentioned this cover, and described how mortified she was when this book was released. The hero, Luke (aka Lucky) is supposed to be the best looking guy on his team of SEALs. And the guy on that cover? Euuww.

It's so bad that for a while, she sent out "repair kits" with smiley face stickers to people. There is a collectors version of this book on Amazon for $38.

And this past weekend, I found it at my used book store for $1.25. How awesome is that? I'm NOT selling him on Amazon or Ebay, though. You'll have to get your own copy.

Whaaa? Where Did THAT Come From?

2012-01-11T07:39:00.001-05:00

I may have a slight book-acquisition addiction, and always have WAY more on my TBR list that I will ever read (unless something wonderful happens and I am snowed in my house for, say, three years with plenty of food and water), but I usually recognize the books I own.

After finishing Crash Into You,

( by my very first follower, Roni Loren, Hi, Roni!) last night, I went to pick something from by book case, and front and center was this book:

Honest to God, I have no idea where this book came from!
The blurb on the front is by JR Ward, which tells me that I totally would pick this book up and probably buy it if I ran across it in the used book store, or check it out from the library, or whatever...but I have no recollection of doing so.

It doesn't have the little stamp that says I bought it at the Book Rack, and it's not a library book.
I do buy new books, but usually new books by authors I haven't read go onto the Kindle.

So, anyway, I'm reading it. The first few pages have been a bit cumbersome, there is a lot of background world-building stuff going on--although, in all fairness to Ms. Anderson, I was trying to read while The Big Guy was watching Spartacus. Which has a lot of blood and guts and very nekkid hot guys in it.

Hot guys like that, and usually even more naked. And getting busy.

ANYWAY; in spite of the distractions, I have gotten to the meat of the story, and I think I'm going to like this series.
And if you are an author, and ever wondered if endorsements by other authors matter? Yeah. If JR Ward's blurb wasn't on the cover, I probably wouldn't have bought it, and probably would have given up before gettting through the explanations of the Mayan calendar.

But the arrival of this book is a great mystery: maybe a demon from the end of 2012 brought it to me, and I am supposed to read it and figure out a way to help the studly Night Keeper guys prevent the end of the world in a few months. It's possible.

Verrrry, verrry interesting! (and if you don't get that cultural reference, go watch some old episodes of Laugh-In. It was kind of the pre-Saturday Night Live).

Got a Week to Spare for Reading Blogs?

2012-01-09T08:02:00.002-05:00

I have a son who had a traumatic brain injury (TBI) when he was 11. My fear, once we knew he would make it, was that he could lose some cognitive function. He had been accepted to an accelerated school that would allow him to skip two grades and put him in the company of other gifted kids. Well, he is fine. He's a sixteen year-old college freshman now, and hopes to go to med school when he finishes undergrad. My own little Doogie Howser.

There has been fallout from his injury. He had ADHD before the injury, and it didn't exactly go away. We were warned that he could become more impulsive...whoooeeee, was that true! He was slow to develop a social filter, and sometimes still blurts out exactly what he is thinking, without considering that talking about someone else's bodily functions at dinner with Grandma may not be appropriate. But these are small potatoes. He kept his big heart, his amazing sense of humor, and his overactive imagination.

Anyway, it was one of those big events that changed our family: "Before the Big Bonk" and "After the Big Bonk" is one way we mark time.

I followed a thread through the internet the other day... a book review lead to an author I wanted to check out, which led to a blog, which lead to another blog, and I found myself here:

Being the Wife (Widow) of a Wounded Marine

And I haven't been able to escape.

This is a blog written by a woman (Karie) whose brand-spanking new husband was injured in Iraq, and the blog is her diary, starting about two years after the injury.

I spent a good portion of Friday evening and Saturday afternoon glued to my computer screen, reading posts (starting at the beginning), and I'm not even halfway through. I have shed quite a few tears for Karie and Cleve, and I suspect I haven't even gotten close to the hard part (because, as the title indicates, Cleve didn't make it). Cleve was injured by an IED and suffered an amputation, TBI and PTSD, followed by depression, addiction, sleep apnea... and the injuries were not just to Cleve. The fallout of this shit is pretty widespread. Karie wondered if she could also have PTSD because of what happened to Cleve. I'm not a licensed mental health provider, but I have to say, "Uh, Yeah."

Writers of fiction, especially romantic fiction, love to take these injuries and use them in our stories--we love a damaged hero, right? In our stories, we get to fix things. In real life, the love of a good woman isn't enough.

This girl, Karie, has more courage than I can possibly imagine--both for sticking around to deal with what happened to her husband, and for sharing her feelings so clearly with the world. When my son was hurt, we were enrolled in a study about the effects of TBI on the family, and had to answer all these questions about how much stress we were under because of it. I had a hard time with that--life is stressful! I had kids aged 8, 11 and 13--there was ALWAYS stress.

After spending time with Karie and Cleve, I can say that what we went through was NOTHIN".

What is really staggering is that what Karie and Cleve went through, and what Karie still goes through (even though I haven't read through to the current posts) is not unique. Thousands of soldiers and their families have been destroyed by the war on terror. That totally breaks my heart over and over. There isn't much I can do except throw money at the problem, but thankfully, there are plenty of organizations that help families with living expenses, caregiver support, life management skill development. It's not enough, we can't go back and undo the damage, but we can get in there and try to help.

And pray.

And say "Thank You" Cleve, for making my world safer, and Karie, for reminding me to be grateful.

Whoa! 2012 is Half Over and I Haven't Blogged!

2012-01-05T10:06:00.003-05:00

Okay, I might be just slightly prone to exaggeration, but the days have gotten away from me.

It's not really amazing, but still interesting to me how crazy I can get over other people's Life Management Issues (I think they call that co-dependency--and I'm really good at it). Without being too specific, The Big Guy had to make a decision regarding an employee's icky behavior, and this has led to an entire chain of events that has me wishing I hadn't stopped drinking.

Some of the things that happened have been uncomfortable (for me), but there have been some cool things, too.

For instance: My brother-in-law, who we'll call "Master Chief Uncle Guy", of MCUG for short, has moved in with us for a while, until we can replace the employees we've lost. He conveniently has the skill set to help us, but lives in the woods somewhere in Virginia, which is a bit of a commute--hence the moving in thing.

The Big Guy travels for his other job, and this is a week that he is out of town. So I am hosting MCUG, who I have known for 20 years but not spent any one-on-one time with, and not a whole lot of conversation, either. But I took a deep breath, showed him where the towels are kept, and fed him dinner when he got in. And it's fine.

MCUG was a chief on a Navy submarine for a long, long time, and then retired and moved to the woods, where he (and Mrs. MCUG) raises chickens and grows potatoes and hunt, and all kinds of other things that provide hours and hours of entertainment.

I'm learning how 150 men can live in a space that is about 100x30ft for months on end (150 men, 100 beds....hmmm), how to grow potatoes, how to fix cars (okay, maybe not that last part). I'm also getting fun story ideas...

My point is, when life throws you weirdness, make fiction!

Merry Two Days After Christmas!

2011-12-27T11:52:00.001-05:00

Wow. So I had this moment of "Oh, crap, I didn't do ANYTHING I wanted to do this year", so this is my annual "Oh crap, I didn't do the things I meant to do, but I did do some good stuff so I don't have to feel too bad" blog post.

I meant to lose 20 pounds. Instead, I think I gained 15. So that goes back on the list for next year, with some .

I meant to finish at least one complete draft of a novel. Instead, I let myself get sucked into obsessing over how to plot the perfect plot issues. So that one goes on the list again for next year. Not quitting.

What I DID do, however, was read Save The Cat by Blake Snyder, which is definitely helping things along. I "get it" now, I just have to "do it".
I also took a great workshop by Suzanne Johnson about quilting a plot, which also helped a lot.

Speaking of quilting, I made these:

These are The Dead Guy Shirt Quilts, made from the shirts of my late neighbor, for his daughters.

I also said goodbye to a good friend:

Lucy lived with us for 15 years. I wasn't the best dog-mom on the planet, but she loved the heck out of us anyway. Good Dog, Lucy!

But then said hello to:

Penny. Named for the character on The Big Bang Theory, which is our current favorite sit-com.

I had one child graduate from high school and start college at the ripe old age of 16, and have felt growing pains along with all three of my offspring.

So I'm not going to end 2011 with self-recriminations, but with the knowledge that 2012 has incredible opportunity for growth!

Just hopefully not another 15 pounds.

The Best App Ever

2011-12-12T12:48:00.004-05:00

Okay, I totally cannot figure out how to upload a video so it shows up here. I suck. I am inept. But it is very, very important that you all click here and watch this video. Go ahead, I'll wait.

Watch all the way til the end!

<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/VsyE2rCW71o" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe

Anyway. I have to go now, I have an App to download.

Watching for Backstory

2011-11-30T14:55:00.001-05:00

I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that I have gotten hooked on The Walking Dead, which is a series on AMC about the zombie apocalypse.

And okay, yeah, a big draw are those two guys standing in the foreground, Shane and Rick...best friends and coworkers at the beginning of the series. But then Rick gets shot, and while he's in a coma (or something) there is a zombie apocalypse, and he wakes up to a whole new world, with all new rules.

Here's the thing: I started watching the last four episodes of the first season, and then have watched all of the second season episodes. I thought: WOW, I have to go back and get the back story on all these people, because they are just all so awesomely flawed and appealing...There is so much going on here, surely I've missed something.

So I went back and got caught up with Netflix, and realized that I wasn't really missing all that much background information--only two episodes worth. How do these writers do this without even a speck of "As you know, Bob" going on?

The first time I saw Lori and Shane together, I knew that they had been doing the nasty (even though Rick was still alive, much to everyone's surprise!), even though I hadn't seen that episode. It was in a look that Lori had on her face when she realized Rick was still alive.

And then there is Darrel...backwoods white boy with attitude...brother of the Meth head who sawed off his own hand to avoid being eaten by zombies...with a sensitive side buried so far down he has to tear up barns to keep it from getting out.

My goal for the next month is to see how much backstory I can make up for people on the street, based on their mannerisms...and then try to write it.

I Surrender!

2011-11-21T10:18:00.001-05:00

Dagnabbit, I am not going to make my NaNo word count by the end of the month. I was SO on track, too. And then life brought me Penny.

The "little" white puppy with the black ears is Penny. The poor, brown, slob, laying down and taking the abuse, is Stella. In the 7 short days that Penny has been part of our family, Stella has earned the Princess of Patience award. Poor thing can't move without being impaled with puppy teeth. Ears, throat, belly, all bear the marks of her unwillingness to take a bite out of the baby.

Anyway.

Not doing so well with getting any kind of writing done at all. I have, however, lost five pounds this week...all that running outside for housetraining is more activity than I've had in a while.

The Teen Drama Queen, however, is on a roll. She sat down last night and asked me to help her figure out some stuff with a short story she's supposed to turn in at school today. I am in total awe at the level of detail in setting, dialogue, and character description she cranks out. She read me the opening for a story about four teens who discover (conveniently) four necklaces with magical witchcraft powers. The story she needed to turn in was supposed to be 1000 words, and she probably needs another 70,000 to get this complicated story finished.

I suggested maybe she should tell the story of the witch who created the necklaces...and in less than an hour, she brought me a completed short story, told in first person. It's about Mary Ash, a young married woman who believes her magic is a curse. She's kept her witchiness a secret from her husband, but then her evil twin brother "outs" her (we're talking Salem, back in the day) and her husband proves his devotion by swearing to hide the necklaces that hold her power, so her evil twin brother won't get them. But then Mary is burned at the stake (again...first person narrative*shudder*) and her brother undergoes spontaneous combustion.

I am so proud of this kid! She really struggles with school sometimes, but if her teachers don't suck the joy of learning from her, I think she'll be a great writer some day.

Reading While Driving, and Other Stuff

2011-11-18T09:09:00.001-05:00

Okay, I will admit that I have, on occassion, been so into a book that I was compelled to read a few lines every time I hit a stop light on my way home from work. This week's "OMG, I Can't Put This Down" selection is Because Of You, by Jessica Scott.

Ya'll know how much I love a beat down on an Alpha Male hero, and Sgt. Shane Garrison fits the bill. It's only $2.99 on Amazon right now...this is a first novel for Ms. Scott, and I can't wait for the next in this series. Hopefully the next book will come out on a day off or something, though, so I can avoid becoming a traffic hazard.

Onto safer Auto-Literature: Way back before the dawn of Kindle...heck, before the dawn of the home computer, there was born a human female who was raised by Cavemen:

And this human female, Ayla, proceeded to have a half-caveman baby, who she left behind when she left the cavemen people. In subsequent books in the Earth's Children series, Ayla became the MacGuyver of the prehistoric folk: domesticating wild animials, inventing sewing, discovering flint and steel....and so on.

Ms. Auel is one slow-assed writer. Clan of the Cave Bear was released in 1980. Yes, that's 1980...31 years ago. I was a sophomore in high school! My favorite of the series was the Valley of Horses, because that's when Ayla met Jondalar and discovered "sharing pleasures". Cause, you know, SEX.

The fifth book came out this year.

Ayla is aging well, and she has a kid, balancing motherhood and medicine-womanhood, she's still got that smokin' hot Jondalar as her mate (although they haven't shared many pleasures lately, as far as I can tell), she still hangs out with the horses, the wolf...

Anyway. I got the book on audio, and it's like 35 hours worth of listening. To details of preshistoric human life. There is a lot of repitition of detail in here, too...explaining relationships and how Whinny's pole drag (Whinny is Ayla's horse, the pole drag is a travois thing) is used to carry people and stuff...And not much plot. I'm about halfway through the CD's, and I'm GOING to finish this book, but I hope that when the next one comes out, in say, 2025, that Ayla goes through menopause and goes all psycho on someone's ass and creates some drama, because I'm in danger of drifting off to sleep while I'm driving and reading this one!

Like I Really Have Time for This

2011-11-14T07:48:00.001-05:00

A few months ago, my 15 year-old German Sherpherd/Lab Mix, Lucy, was ushered on to the Daisy Hill Puppy Farm in the sky, with many tears and regrets. Then The Big Guy had a couple of beers and suggested that we should get a new friend for Stella, our chocolate Lab. May I point out that TBG works out of town at least every other week?

I nixed that suggestion.

But there's this thing I go through every now and then, I call it Baby Lust. I went through it when my boys were toddlers, and I thought I was assuaging that urge by acquiring a puppy (Lucy), who was way more dog than I was prepared for at the time. And then, Oops! I I was so busy with two human puppies and one canine puppie that forgot to take my birth control pills a couple of days in a row, and was blessed with a Surprise Drama Queen (who is now almost 14, and the Abbot to my Costello, the Fruit in my Loom--not a mistake or an accident, but a wonderful surprise). Yep, getting a puppy resulted in getting a baby.

Anyway. Last weekend, I wandered in to my local Petsmart, which is when the Stray Animal Adoption Program has animals who are looking for a forever home. Sigh.

I tried really hard to ignore the idea of a new dog, I really did. The Big Guy had recanted his suggestion of a companion for Stella.

And so I would like to introduce you to Penny:

Penny is a 9-week old, at least 1/2, Treeing Walker Coonhound, who does not like to sleep alone in her crate, and is quite vocal about her displeasure.

Penny and The Bearded Wonder

Let us all say a prayer that the addition of Penny to the household will not result in TBG having a spontaneous vasectomy reversal.

Torturing a Hero: By Making Him Apppear in My NaNo Novel

2011-11-07T12:56:00.002-05:00

My poor hero is not having a very good time so far during NaNoWriMo. He was very comfortable living a life of seclusion, with a semi-new identity, avoiding the notoriety that came with being the Charlie Sheen of golf. But then I thought him up (along with some help from Kate). And I'm trying to torture him.

Except my hero, Chris, looks more like this:

He just used to act like C.S.

So far, he's had to sit in a hot parking lot waiting for his uncle to come out of the grocery store (how is THAT for an exciting first hero scene?), then Uncle Carl goes and has a stroke on him, and he finds out that Uncle Carl has neither health insurance nor a living will (so even if he wanted to pull the plug on the old fart, he can't), and NOW this weird, uptight scientist chick has shown up expecting him to give her golf lessons. Next thing you know she's going to be dragging him around where his identity might be exposed, threaten his hard-won sobriety, and probably make him fall in love with her or something.

What are you doing to your hero or heroine?

We Interrupt this NaNoWriMo For a Special Report

2011-11-04T07:39:00.001-04:00

My Imaginary boyfriend of the month, Channing Tatum,

has a new movie opening this week, Son of No One.
Your basic gritty cop drama with Ray Liotta, Al Pacino,sordid pasts and present scandals.
And apparently it's a stinker. Which is really okay, because there is alway the probability that Channing will have his shirt off at some point.

Unfortunately, the reviews I've read have been written by people who evaluate movies for the quality of the writing and the acting. Whatever.

OOOOOOOHHHHH, Scary, Kids!

2011-10-31T10:25:00.001-04:00

I got to work this morning, and had a bit of a shock:

That's my desk, and it's really, really clean. For a moment there I was worried that maybe I had been replaced, because I do NOT keep my desk that tidy. Except then I remembered that on Friday I was supposed to be reading a bunch of papers and writing a grant proposal, which motivated me to clean house--anything to avoid reading science on a Friday!

But wow, what a great start to the week...a tidy desk! I know where almost everything is, and I feel like I can start work with a reasonable clean slate. Which brings me to NaNo...Tomorrow is November! Woo Hoo!

I think I might celebrate with a brand new, clean memory stick. Yeah, I know, I could just delete or move all the crap on the 6 or 7 that I already have, but there is something about a new drive...kind of like a new box of crayons for the first day of school...it doesn't matter how many hundred old broken, peeled crayons you have...you need a new box on the first day of school.

Are you going to NaNo? What are you getting to celebrate the launch? A new pen, a new notebook, a new net book?

Add me as a Buddy! teriannestanley is my user name.

Oh, and I'm sure you need and update on my baby snails:

See that kind of crescent shaped black spot near the bottom right of the green algae fest? That's the big sister snail. There are three of four babies to the left, smaller black spots. Aren't they cute? See them waving?

Sweater Day

2011-10-27T12:14:00.002-04:00

Okay, I know this pic isn't as nice as Monday's. Not even close. But it's cold and nasty here today, and I finished this sweater yesterday, and while I prefer 70 and sunny, I'm glad I have a nice, warm sweater today.

Now if I could just get rid of that weird swoopy thing that my hair is doing, my day might be a little closer to perfect. And if I didn't have a day job and could spend the day writing or reading. With Channing Tatum, my pool boy bringing me frosty drinks.

ARRGGH!

2011-10-24T07:54:00.001-04:00

My desktop computer has been giving me fits. It kicks me off at random moment, usually right in the middle of a fabulous blog post, which it refuses to save. Could be that maybe I should be blogging from home instead of work...so until I can get to my laptop, I'll leave you with this, if I don't get logged off first:

Friday Fantasy

2011-10-21T07:42:00.002-04:00

Last night I dreamt that I went to live in a tree house, WAY above the jungle, on a mountain, in some South American country with:

and:

As well as my friend Diane, who kind of looks like:

And a couple of other people. It was a pretty nice tree house, considering. It didn't have real plumbing, I kind of remember something about a potty chair and plastic bags (I've always been more concerned with practicalities than with amenities like a flat screen TV). You had to get to the house by climbing a tree and crossing a long, long swinging bridge:

Diane bought a bunch of purses made by native people, and she was mad because they only sent her half of what she ordered.

Josh Duhamel had smuggled along a ton of prescription drugs in the back of his belt, I guess he had a problem.

I cooked breakfast the first day, which was fine, but I got mad because no one volunteered to clean up after me.

And that is all I can remember. What I REALLY want to know is what we were doing in that stupid tree house to begin with! Were we scientists, there to study something? On a reality TV show?

Anyone else have any ideas? This is going to bug me all day!

Warm up the Flash Drive

2011-10-19T08:11:00.001-04:00

NaNoWriMo is coming! I had a great time doing this last year, and managed to crank out about half of a shitty first draft (SFD). The novel is now languishing on a flash drive somewhere at the bottom of my jewelry box, hoping I will continue to ignore it for another 11 months. I think it will be pleased that I am not planning to start over on the same story.

I have another brilliant story in mind for this year. Brilliant, I tell you. It was actually inspired by CP Kate, when I was whining to her about maybe having to fill out a foursome for a charity golf outing. I am not a golfer under the best of circumstances, and even less so on a cold, wet October day.

She said something along the lines of, "Wouldn't that be a great setting for a romantic comedy?"

And I said, "Why, yes, Kate, it would. I shall steal your idea and run with it." I figure since it was my almost golf outing, I get to have the setting, even though she thought of it. Remind me to remove this blog post before I get sued for plagiarism.

I'm actually doing some plotting for this one, rather than just diving in at Midnight, November 1. I'm using a combination of stuff I learned from Suzanne Johnson's workshop on plotting, quilter style; and the "W" method, from another workshop taught by Karen Docter. I also like the snowflake method, I do a little of that, too. I have a little composition book, some fresh pens, a new flash drive, post-its, highlighters, yada yada yada. I'm plotting, ready to write!

I also have a couple of software programs, just to make things even more complicated. I use Microsoft Word, of course...it's pretty universal, I guess. I have just started playing with Google Docs, but not sure that's really useful. I like that I don't have to email everything to myself, or try to remember my flash drive, if I switch from my work computer to my home one...but if I'm on my laptop and don't have internet access (there are places without hotspots. Not many, but I can find them!), I can't get to whatever I've stashed there.

I really like One Note, which is also a part of MS Office...you've probably got it and never used it. It's like a virtual notebook. It has sections and pages, so you can have a tab marked "Characters" and put a character on each page, and another section for the actual story, with a scene per page or whatever...it's really easy to put text and pictures and circles and arrows and all kinds of stuff on the page. But that's not very portable. If I was only working on one computer, I would use it more.

I haven't delved deeper into actual writer's software...I'd love to hear what everyone else uses, and how you keep track of stuff. Are you going to NaNo? What is your plan of attack?

Are Zombies the New Vampires?

2011-10-17T07:44:00.003-04:00

I've been telling my student lab worker that I'm concerned that Zombies are the new Vampires. She just smiles politely and goes about her dishwashing duties. Of course, I don't think she quite shares my fascination with the Black Dagger Brotherhood. She'll come around.

Here's the thing: Used to be, Vampires were pretty much all around bad guys. Anyone remember Salem's Lot? No good guy vampires there. Dracula may have been some kind of sexy, but he was still a bad guy. But then vampires started getting all sparkly and junk.

Which is fine--sparkly vampires got my daughter interested in literature. The Black Dagger Brothers are just plain HOT. And Bill and Eric? Bring 'em on.

But now I'm realizing that since vampires are good guys(and werewolves have almost never been bad guys, just poorly trained puppies), we need new bad guys.

Bring in the zombies.

Brain dead, human eating, slow and stupid; yet relentless and hard to kill (since they are already dead, right?). Zombies are just nasty. They're not only cold and ugly, they are rotting. There is no amount of Old Spice that is going to take care of that.

But if vampires used to be bad guys, and now are good guys, and zombies are now bad guys, does that mean that zombies are going to be good guys sometime soon? Who would the bad guys be then? Talking sea slugs?

Putting on My Big Girl Boots

2011-10-13T10:03:00.001-04:00

Last weekend, the Big Guy and I went to Nashville, Tennessee to celebrate his 50th birthday. I got lots of good presents. I got a new car, and I got some REAL cowboy boots! And yes, I did say that it was BG's birthday, but whatever, he got a leg lamp and a gift card to Sears.

ANYWAY, back to me. I've wanted cowboy boots FOREVER. But the real ones (as opposed to the Payless variety) are just so damned expensive! And when I've had a little extra money, there's always been something more sensible to spend it on. But I got paid for a side job last week, and the money was burning a hole in my (patent leather, Payless) purse, so when we got to Nashville, and went for a walk down Broadway, and passed Betty Boots,
I had to stop and drag BG inside. And bought me some real cowboy boots. I did sign a waiver stating that I would not wear them with Daisy Duke shorts or a mini skirt. There is a definite age limit on that sort of fashion statement. And a thigh diameter limit.

We then proceeded to visit a great many fun bars, listened to some awesome music, and watched people. If you like country music at all, you've got to go to Nashville at least once. I got one of my kids a T-shirt that says "Viva Nash Vegas", and it really is, on a smaller scale, without the strippers and the gambling. The neon and entertainment factors are incredible.

We also went to the Grand Ol' Opry and saw an overgrown hillbilly boy band (Rascal Flatts) get inducted into the Opry, which was v. cool.

Anyway, back to me. My friend Dawn Alexander sent me a book, The Me Project, and I'm working through it. This is going to help me do stuff that I've always wanted to do without feeling guilty for doing something for me...one of the things that holds me back is a fear of seeming selfish. So I'll keep you posted!

And I'll be doing it with my boots on!

Little Kid Stuff that Becomes Big Kid Stuff

2011-10-07T08:34:00.000-04:00

I love all kind of fiber arts. I spin, I knit, I quilt, I've been into the whole paper crafting/rubber stamping/scrapbooking scene, even was into making my own paper for a while. As I was sorting through all the email I get from crafty magazines, I came across this knit stocking inspired by Little House in the Big Woods, and I'm like, OMG. I totally have to make these socks. When I was little, I wanted to do all the stuff that Laura did. Sew, make maple syrup, eat honey that Pa rescued by killing a bear (could never convince my dad to do this one for me).

I'll put the stockings on my To Do list, behind "finish this stupid first draft" and "glue rhinestones to this posing suit" and "finish those quilts from the dead guy's shirts for his daughters".

But anyway. Thinking about the Little House books takes me back to elementary school. I. Loved. Those. Books. The TV show, not so much, though I did watch it. The show always kind of made me uncomfortable, because Laura was always doing stupid stuff that you KNEW was going to be a problem. I mean, come on, Laura! Can't you hear the "you're going to get hurt or endanger someone else" music? And that Mary, burning down the barn because she was reading? Whatever.

Reading Ramona The Pest led me to pulling Kelly Kamrath's springy blonde hair and dyeing my Barbie's hair with markers.

Reading Charlotte's Web kept me from being afraid of spiders and made me want to be a pig farmer (that one, interestingly, didn't pan out, but I do still love a good trip to the petting zoo). I must have read that book 12 times, and I STILL cry when I see the movie and that stupid spider bites the dust.

I called my brother Ape Face for years after I read Freaky Friday (did you know it was a book before it was a movie--with Jody Foster, before Lindsay Lohan?).

So what kid's book inspired your aspirations as a kid? Which ones still resonate?

Macarena and Cheese

2011-10-05T08:57:00.000-04:00

I have two really wonderful crit partners. I med Kate Pembrooke at my first online writer's workshop. She said something that resonated with me (probably about being a newbie lurker) and we started to chat away from the loop, decided to buddy up. We send each other stuff we've been working on, and encourage each other, and forgive each other for getting caught up with our families and procrastinating. Kate writes Regency, and she has a great knack for characterization. She's been submitting stuff for contests, and I bet she's going to start getting some nibbles soon. So get back to work, Kate, finish that book!

I connected with Dawn Alexander on twitter. We both follow @roniloren, and started chatting there, and decided to connect to do some critting. She writes suspense, which I am trying to write, too. She's the plotter of the family. I read the last manuscript she wrote, and it had everything: scary bad psycho nut job, a little clairvoyance, secondary characters which BETTER be getting their own story soon...oh, and an ending.

Dawn is also a blogger, and a few weeks ago she asked me to be her tuesday featured writer. Most of the time she has REAL writers who have actually published something, but she must have been feeling sorry for me, because she invited me to be her guest this week. Anyway, check out Chasing Someday . Maybe then you'll understand my post title. Maybe not, but that's okay, too!

Whatcha Readin' While You're Laying There With That Box of Kleenex?

2011-10-03T08:14:00.002-04:00

Last week I took Drama Queen (13) and The Sam Stanley Experience (16) to a Toby Keith concert. DQ was very excited, TSSE took his iPod in case the country music made his ears bleed (but he wouldn't give up his ticket, wanted to check out the concert experience, he said).

We had lawn seats, so our roof was the starry, starry, er...pouring down rainy sky. But I paid $40 a piece for those tickets, goldarnit, ya'll are going to stay to the end of this concert and like it! We gave up on staying dry after the opening act and just kept our plastic ponchos on to try to retain body heat.

As a side note, the lawn seat crowd for a Toby Keith is a little, er, smokier, than a Brooks and Dunn crowd. DQ was a bit shocked to see a man older than me smoking something that may not have been a cigarette.

DQ: "Shouldn't he be old enough to know better?"
Me: "Well, yes, I suppose he should."

DQ: "Doesn't he know, or care, that there is a 13-year old CHILD standing right here?"
Me: "Well, I don't know, but at least I am sure that YOU know better."

DQ: "Is he going to get weird and mean?"
Me: "Only if you get between him and the pizza booth."

So, innocence stripped away, DQ managed to enjoy the show anyway, and I even caught The SSE singing along a couple of times (although, maybe he was just standing to close to the "I'll Never Smoke Weed With Willie Again" crowd).

Me, I had a blast at the show, but spent the weekend with tissues and all of my favorite cold remedies. Four hours of standing in the cold rain and mud were just enough, apparently, to dispell any doubts that you can catch your near-death of cold in the cold!

But I did some reading this weekend.
I finished

which was fun. Nothing like getting kidnapped by a highlander and dragged through the cold, wet highlands to not mind the mud and rain of a Toby Keith concert so much.

Then I read a few chapters of

I've started it a few weeks ago, but then The SSE snatched it to read. I finally got it back, and am catching up on Katniss and Peeta, about to enter the fray once again.

I also started
.
Nothing like a little Parisian Man-whore story to take the edge off of the Young Adult literature.

What did you read this weekend?

2011-09-28T08:52:00.000-04:00

Who is going to be the next Harrison Ford? Well, maybe the guy in the purple shirt?

His name is Sung Kang, and he's not exactly been in anything I've seen, but them what's "in the know"
(Fall Movie Guide)
say he's got the cool hard-ass thing going on. Based on this picture, I might agree, but not sure I could sit through a "Fast and Furious" film, no matter how cool he is. Unless he takes of his shirt. Then I might secretly rent it on DVD

And Ryan Gosling might be the next George Clooney. If so, I'll be happy to sooth George's bruised ego. And anything else that might be aching.

I do, however, welcome Jeremy Renner to replace Tom Cruise. Maybe he knows more about neuropsychology. And maybe he's taller. Okay, even if he's not taller, he's got my vote.

Have a great day!

I'm off to get a mammogram...jealous?

Half Full Monday: No More Donut Mondays!

2011-09-19T08:42:00.001-04:00

Mondays don't suck. Mondays don't suck. Mondays dont suck mondays dontsuckmondaysdont....

I'm a fairly optimistic person, in spite of my genetic predisposition for snarkiness and irony-detection. But I do get sucked into the whole, "Oh, man, it's Monday, here we go again, wah, wah wah" thing.

Does anyone remember the Dunkin' Donuts commercial about "Time to make the donuts"?

That's a Monday kind of a commercial.

But I sit here before you today (I'm practicing for when the president comes to Cincinnati on Thursday to look at the bridge I cross twice a day to tell us that it's falling apart) to tell you that we are NOT going to have a Donut Monday!

Murphy aparently visited the lab over the weekend, and I came in to find several experiments that are going to provide me, not with frustration over mistakes, but with Learning Opportunities!

I am going to get my WIP out when I get a break from science and find, not a disaster waiting to be deleted, but a chance to Make Lemonade!

I'm going to go the gym later, not to challenge the limits of spandex, but to...okay, Challenge the Limits of Spandex!

Have a great day!

Swords, Sandals and Socks

2011-09-15T09:51:00.001-04:00

No, this post is not about hippies run amok.

I would have illustrated this with a picture of myself from "back in the day" but my kids might visit this blog someday. Or worse, my mother-in-law...

It's sock knitting season again, and I always like to have a good TV series DVR'd for those long, dark, damp days of winter (yeah, I know, fall isn't until next week, but we are having a BOOM it's not summer anymore kind of a week here right now).

I does love me some drama. A few years ago, a friend told me that she'd become addicted to 24. Well. Never one to let a good opportunity for obsession pass by, I ran out and rented the first disc. The Big Guy and I watched it...and found ourselves bargaining with sexual favors in exchange for the other running to Blockbuster to rent the next disc. I think we watched 24 hours worth of...24 in about 48 hours. That was the weekend the kids learned to cook for themselves. Then there were a few seasons of Lost, at least until it got too weird for even the smoke monster to understand. And then there are all of those re-runs of The Unit...

Last winter, spring, whenever it was, The Big Guy got hooked on this series on HBO, Game of Thrones. You've probably heard of it, you can't walk past the book department in Kroger or Walmart without tripping over one of the tomes that the series is based on (that is, if a copy of The Help doesn't get you first).

Anyway, I ignored it. I don't generally dig swords and sandals movies, even though King Arthur was my first love. After Donnie Osmond. I couldn't get into the Lord of the Rings movies, even though my boyfriend Viggo was in it (I liked him better as a fake Russian mobster and Master-Chief-Suck-My-Dick).

Sigh.

Back to Game of Thrones. Every so often, a particularly interesting naked part would divert me from whatever I was reading, but I didn't really clock in to the plot, having fallen asleep during the first episode.

But it's sock season again, so I thought I might as well try that first episode again, since I just couldn't bring myself to watch another reality show on regular TV. Thank heaven for On Demand. Yeah, I found my next TV addiction. Except I'm pretty sure all the heroes I've already fallen in love with are going to be dead by the end of the season.

Eddard, played by Sean Bean

Khal Drogo, played by Jason Momoa And Just in case you can't see him under all that eyeliner:

Sigh.

Meanwhile, I have high hopes for season 2

Okay, who needs me to knit them a pair or six of socks to wear with their Birkenstocks?

Warriors

2011-09-09T11:25:00.000-04:00

I'm all about the Warrior-Hero, and if you can beat the hell out of him and twist him up significantly, I love him even more. Hence my supreme adoration for Navy Seals (real and imaginary),

And those Black Dagger Brotherhood vampires (sadly, all imaginary):

And all kinds of other warrior types: Men in kilts (because I think, by definition, any man who can get away with wearing a skirt has to be kick-ass), Men in Tights (especially Batman), and men in silky shorts:

There is a new movie opening today, Warrior , and hey...I love it already.

Buff men without shirts beating the hell out of each other? What's not to love? If you aren't familiar, this is a movie about two brothers who mix it up in the Mixed Martial Arts arena...the School Teacher Family Man brother and the Home From War brother, and their messed up dad, Nick Nolte (who I have loved since Rich Man, Poor Man, which was a TV mini-series a hundred years ago).

I am going to do everything I can (even if I have to drive all the way to the theater and buy tickets) to see this movie this weekend...If you see it, let me know what you think!

Teen Idols

2011-09-06T12:22:00.002-04:00

When I was a kid, there was this little bookstore not too far from our house. One day I was there with my mom, thinking about spending my allowance on another Nancy Drew mystery, when I looked up...from across the room, our eyes met...a little quiver started in my tummy...and I knew I was in love. Later, Nance, hello, Donnie Osmond and Tiger Beat Magazine.

Sigh.

As I was looking for a picture to share with you, I came across some of my other, temporary crushes: Leif Garrett, Randolf Mantooth (he was Gage, or deSoto, or...anyway, he was an EMT on the show Emergency!). But it was Donnie who was my main love, until I met Peter Frampton and his hair. When he had hair.

Then

Now

Sigh.

Last weekI listened to the audio recording of I Think I Love You, by Allison Pearson . It's the story of a Welsh girl who was THE ABSOLUTE BIGGEST FAN of David Cassidy. Ever. It's a great coming-of-age and love story, I highly reccommend it, no matter who your big celebrity crush was. I was not a huge DC fan, but I will confess, I did have a couple of posters of him and his skinny little hairless chest on my wall.

Sigh.

I moved on to real boys in middle school, but have to confess that I had a brief regression phase when I was in my twenties, when the New Kids on the Block were big. I would have totally done Donnie in a heartbeat (there's that "guy named Donnie" thing). Obviously I had transitioned from the squeeky clean cutie pie phase and into the grungy, tough, bad-boy (albeit with styling products) phase.

Whimper. I would STILL do Donnie. Wahlberg, not Osmond.

The Drama Queen, who is now, at 13, almost out of the Teeny Bopper crush business, has been mostly a Jonas Brothers fan, though I couldn't tell you which one is the star of her fantasies. I feel a little creepy just googling them for a picture, like some kind of Cougar Alarm might go off any moment.

What about you? Who did you hang on your bedroom wall? Who, all grown up, would you have as your romance hero?

Pass Out the Cigars, and More Than You Maybe Wanted To Know About Snails.

2011-08-30T06:17:00.000-04:00

I've been really, really busy the past few weeks, what with those danged offspring of mine requiring attention and those danged summer students requiring supervision, all that science to do, and the plotting workshop I took online...but I have to take a breath here to show you some baby pictures.

Yes, I am the proud foster mom of a herd of baby snails! Umm...you see that semi-clean spot there that has a little black dot about 2/3 of the way down? then look up to the right, there are more of those little black spots. Those are baby snails. I think. The little black spots have moved since I took the picture, and I don't think they are floating frog poop.

I got some new snails for Esther's new tank, and I brought them to work from home in her old tank.

Esther's there, sitting on the rocks by the trunk of her bamboo tree.

Normally, we spend our day in the lab trying to get nerves to grow in dishes, but we took a break the other day to find out about snail sex--hey, it's Biology, it counts! Here is what we learned: Snails are hermaphroditic, which means they have both boy parts and girl parts. But they can't get themselves pregnant. They have to crash into another snail in order to get lucky, and snails move really slowly--as slow as snails--so the chances of meeting up with another snail are slim. They have both kinds of parts because if they only had boy parts or girl parts, and the only snail they managed to hook up with was the same sex, there wouldn't be baby snails. So they have both parts. Convenient!

Here is a link to stuff about snail sex. I would say it is NSFW, but I think that only counts if you are a snail. Here is some science geek trivia: the "rock hard rod" of the animal kingdom is collectively referred to as an "intromittent organ", because they aren't all penises. If it's the thing that puts sex cells into another animal, it's called an "intromittent organ". Not all species have them. Some, like most birds, just bump cloacas (the cloaca is the opening where pee and poop and eggs and sperm come out...the butt, without separate openings to the outside world).

Anyway, the snail has a "love dart". Seriously. Try that euphemism next time you are writing a love scene. Go to that snail sex website I linked to. There are pictures. Just be careful who is looking over your shoulder. I don't want you to get in trouble for downloading porn at work.

Football Season: When Hope Springs Eternal, or, I'm a Bengals Fan

2011-08-17T08:00:00.001-04:00

Grrrrrrrrr.

Cue music: Welcome to the Jungle, by Guns N' Roses.
Granted, our "jungle" is more like a weedy playground right now. The Bengals have a long history of stealing defeat from the jaws of victory, but we love to hate them anyway.

Every year, The Big Guy says he's not even going to bother watching. And yet, every Sunday, we find ourselves at home, eating pretzels and watching our Bungles, praying for the impossible. Last year was supposed to be a great year, but it was not. This year is supposed to suck, so maybe there is some hope!

We've lost a couple of key players:

Carson Palmer

Chad Ochocinco

I think I might miss the Chad. He came to Cincinnati as Chad Johnson, on a team full of other Johnsons (and I mean guys with the last name "Johnson", not guy with "johnsons", although that metaphor might be pretty applicable, too. Anyway. Number 85 changed his name legally to Ochocinco. We all rolled our eyes, but went out and bought new 85 jerseys. Chad also tweets alot. We rolled our eyes and got a twitter account so we could follow him. Then there was the reality show. We rolled our eyes and set our DVRs. But now Chad has left us for New England. We rolled our eyes and said, "Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out!" Actually, I do wish him well. Who will we roll our eyes at now?

Part of being a Bengals fan is being optimistic, in an ironic, bitter sort of a way. It's like being Eeyore, you know? My cup is not half full, but it's not half empty, either. My cup has room for more. And this year, I am setting my sights on this guy:

His name is Andy Dalton, and he's like, fifteen years old. Okay, not really, but he IS young enough to be my son, so I'm not going to be all creepy stalker-ish over him, but my goodness...what a cutie! His hair matches the stripes. And his name is Andy...isn't that name just...sincere? I have high hopes that Andy will do well. And look...he wears his watch with his uniform! He'll be on time for every game.

Life Blurbs

2011-08-16T00:14:00.000-04:00

I've just been to 8th grade orientation at my daughter's school, and I am completely exhausted. They do this mini-schedule thing where you go from class to class and sit for five minutes in each room, hearing a little overview about the upcoming year, before running to the complete other end of the hall to hear about the next class, fighting a stream of parents doing the same thing in the opposite direction.

Not one teacher got her whole spiel out in the allotted five minutes. I think they all need to go to novel writing school.

I've been thinking about summaries and synopses lately, since I'm taking this great plotting workshop from Suzanne Johnson over at Savvy Authors. Our first assignment was to write a one-sentence overview of our story, and then we had to write the blurb for the back cover of the book (Hey! I thought my publicist would do that for me, you know, after I get the $500,000,000 contract).

This was a great exercise. I really had to think about what my book is about, besides just, "There's this really hot, but troubled guy, and this really nice girl with some issues, and they meet and solve each other's problems and live happily ever after." And I had to do it in a fairly concise manner. Not my strong point, but useful, and very applicable to middle school teachers, too:

Take, for example, History, where they'll be studying the Civil War (and beyond) this year. Let's rename it something more appealing, shall we? Let's call it: Love's Rebel Flame.

The one-sentence pitch? "When a Northern State tries to fight the evils of slavery,a Southern State must learn to surrender its old way of life in order to gain true freedom and reunite with the states that make its country complete."

And then for the cover, they need to get Abe Lincoln to put on a kilt (and nothing else, except maybe that sexy hat) and pose on a hillside overlooking the White House.

Cant... Find...Khakis

2011-08-10T07:40:00.000-04:00

Oh, for Heaven's Sake. Really? How hard can it be to find a couple of pair of khaki pants, you ask?

Well. If you have to ask, then you clearly don't have a 13-year old daughter going to Catholic school with a khaki pant dress code.

"Mom, don't forget I need at least three new pairs of pants, last year's don't fit me AT ALL."

"Okay, honey. Do you want to go to Target?"

"Sure."

*go to Target, fight over buying new binders when there are perfectly good binders taking up space in the computer room. Fight more over buying new spiral ring notebooks. Etc.*

"Okay, if last year's don't fit, then you need a bigger size."

"No, Mom, I wear a nine."

*looks at shorts that are crawling up the size "nine" butt.*

"Darn, sweetie, they are out of nines."

"Here's one."

*Sigh. Eye roll (by both parties). DQ goes into dressing room, comes out with nines on, barely buttoned.*

"Honey, you need the elevens."

"But Mom, these fit perfectly."

*Mom eyes the outline of the pockets, visible because pants are so tight, and pantie lines*

"Honey, you have Camel Toe."

*Sigh. Eye roll. Goes back in and puts on elevens, which Mom thinks fit fine*

"Mom, these are HUGE! Besides, they arent' the right shade. I want the darker ones. Can't we go to Old Navy?"

*Pull up in front of Old Navy. Get into staring match with little old lady over parking space. Lose, because she's driving a Lincoln Continental and I'm driving a Honda. Find spot five miles away, trudge through 99 degree heat to blessed coolness of Old Navy.*

"I don't know, Mom. Last year we bought pants at Old Navy and I outgrew them in like, two weeks."

"Honey, I'm pretty sure it's not the pants' fault that you outgrew them."

"Can't we just go to Aeropostale?"

And so on. Thankyou, God, for JC Penney.

Must. Find. Ibuprofen.

2011-08-03T10:20:00.000-04:00

My 71 year-old mother has decided to run for city council in my hometown. I'm not going to campaign for her here, she REALLY doesn't need my help. I'm proud of her, she's always been interested and involved in politics (whatever, insert eye-roll here), and she's got the courage to stand up and say what she believes in.

But really...City Council? NOW? This year has been a disaster for my parents; my dad has been in the hospital about a million times this year (and considering there have only been about 200 days so far this year, that's a lot). He's doing better now, but this is probably going to send him into a permanent coma (maybe that's part of her plan...hmmmmm). Anyway, maybe this is her way of doing something for herself, a chance to claw her way back into living life instead of keeping a vigil for it.

Before we could have her declared Totally Nuts for running for office, she decided to take me, The Bearded Wonder, DQ, and The Sam Stanley Experience on a zipline Adventure yesterday (this was an alternative to skydiving. Do you see where I am going with this?).

this is not me.

I think this is all part of her evil plot, not to kill my dad (especially since he didn't go, thank God), but to distract us from her plan to take over the world. See, if she tells everyone that she went ziplining, noone will think its weird that she's running for public office, because really: old ladies on a zipline? How much weirder can you get? THEN, as she works her way up to state representative and then the US House of Representatives, she can unseat John Boehner (she's from his district).

I just hope I don't have to wear high heels to the inauguration thingy when she's president. I look ridiculous trying to walk in those things.

Studmuffins and Aliens

2011-08-01T13:02:00.000-04:00

Happy Monday!

I'm going to be quite busy this month, I've signed up for Suzanne Johnson's Savvy Authors Workshop Quilting 101: Patchworking the Perfect Plot, and I plan to take my WIP by the ears and give it a face slam on the desk until it submits to my will. Or something.

The Big Guy and I went to see Cowboys and Aliens yesterday, all by ourselves! DQ didn't want to go, The Sam Stanley Experience had to work and The Bearded Wonder saw it on Friday. I know it's gotten some mixed reviews, but let me just say: LOVED. IT.

Not the greatest movie evah, but it was a total Western. With a capital "W". And Daniel Craig, duh.

Harrison Ford was great as the horrible, evil, mean-ass cattle baron with baggage (spoiler alert: he turns out to be not so bad). And did I mention that Daniel Craig is in this movie?

In case you didn't hear me, I'll repeat that. DANIEL CRAIG IS IN THIS MOVIE.

That is all.

O.M.G. I've Been Writing, and other fascinating stuff.

2011-07-28T08:33:00.000-04:00

I made a little resolution to get my S*i# together and stop waiting for things to fall into place, so that my life would be perfect. Every now and then I find myself wallowing around with the committee in my head, agreeing that I suck and should probably just give up and get in line to be a guest on Jerry Springer. Not sure what my "issue" would be, as my kids all look WAY too much like The Big Guy and me to belong to my lesbian lover (I DON'T HAVE ONE, NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT) and my high school sweetheart (I did have one of those, but he's a non-issue).

Anyway, I took a look at my calves, the flash drive that doesn't have my novel on it, the mountain of un-mailed graduation thank-you notes, and started making a list of goals. Exciting stuff.

1) Get back on a food plan (which is recovery-speak for "diet")
2) Get some exercise (besides working my mouse clicking finger)
3) Act healthy (this is the "Fake it 'til you make it" theory)
4) Write a damn book, already
5) Get organized and efficient at work (ummm...probably by not spending so much time blogging?)
6) Get a "Better Home". Not aspiring to be Martha Stewart here, just to fix real food for my kids once or twice a week. Remember to water the grass. Pull a weed now and then.

So, not being one for half-measures, I dug out the most hardcore book I could find in my personal library, Body For Life. Part of my reason for pulling out that book is that I have a new posing suit client. She'll be doing a women's figure competition in October, and working with these women is always eye-opening (I have no aspirations, not even secret fantasies about being this buff. But finding the time and energy to exercise? I do fantasize about that). And learning to walk in stripper heels. I think The Big Guy might like that.

Anyway. I looked at the book for a while, and then logged onto Sparkpeople instead. There are half-measures and there is reason. Can I just tell you that substituting grilled chicken for salami has resulted in a loss of six pounds in four days? Okay, maybe the elimination of donuts and ice cream is a factor, too. And running to the bathroom sixteen times a day because I've been drinking so much water.

As for those goals? I'm hitting about 500 right now. I've been doing SOME writing everyday, churning out a perfectly shitty first draft.

Haven't made it to the gym. Pulled a few weeds, but the mosquitos were pretty bad, and I haven't unearthed the bug spray yet, so I went back inside. But here is the biggest news of all:

My son, the Bearded Wonder, came into the kitchen last night and said, laughing, "What's for dinner?"

I pointed at the stove and said, "Grilled chicken, salad, and brown rice."

He stopped laughing. "Really?"

"Yes. What did you think I was going to say?"

From the living room (Drama Queen) and the basement (Sam Stanley Experience) and the Bearded Wonder came, all together now, "Whatever you make for yourself."

YES! I get extra points for that one.

Making Waves in Kentucky, Part III: In which the book is kidnapped by a pirate.

2011-07-26T08:29:00.000-04:00

I have been so overwrought these past few days that I've been unable to recount the events of Friday last, but thanks to much Diet Coke and a few hours on the River, believe I can now share with you my experience; I will share the facts and allow you to draw your own conclusions about the hazards of internet friendships.
I have been blogging and tweeting about my tour of Northern Kentucky with Tawna Fenske 's book MAKING WAVES, and recieved a suggestion to visit the fair city of Verona, Kentucky, just a hop and a skip from my own home. So I went.

What a quaint little town!

As I toured this one-stoplight town (sorry, no picture of the stoplight, it was green and I had to go), I spied author Keri Stevens, with whom I've tweeted (yes, it was she who suggested visiting Verona. She said there was a semi-nekkid statue in the cemetery there, so I wanted to check it out). So I stopped and said, "Hey!" and took the opportunity to snap a picture of her with the book:

She opened it to a good part. She likes it, hey Mikey!

Apparently, she liked it a little too much, because before I could put my camera away, she was STEALING IT!

Can you believe it? Pirating a book about pirates?

I was NOT going to let this slide. That's my book, dammit, and I want it back! The chase was on. Over hill and dale, past horses, cows and tractors, I pursued the pirate disguised as a soccer mom:

Beware writers driving SUV's: it makes 'em look trustworthy.

For a few minutes I thought I had lost her. But I am nothing if not determined. I used every bit of knowledge I gained from years of reading Nancy Drew mysteries--and there is also a good bit of Stephanie Plum in this soul. Using high powered surveillance equipment I found a clue!

It's the Wine Canoe!

I had found the Dread Pirate Stevens! I chased her again, scared the heck out of her whole family, the dog and a couple of cats, and finally caught her on the back patio:

There was no blood spilled, but there might have been a bruise or two (which I got falling on my butt after she let go of the book).

Since I am an aspiring romance writer, I have to give this story a happy ending (But not a romantic one. I don't swing that way, and I'm pretty sure Keri doesn't either). After the big climactic battle scene, I explained that Keri could get her own darned copy of MAKING WAVES.

Look! You can order it for your Kindle!

Phew. That was exhausting. Fortunately, Verona offers vittles, if one needs to refuel after fighting pirates.

Verona Vittles. Yum!

Keri, it was great meeting you! Maybe next time, you can show me the semi-nekkid statue, unless that was just a ruse.

Making Waves In Kentucky, Part II: Cody's Ass

2011-07-20T07:48:00.000-04:00

There is this really great secondary character in MAKING WAVES, by Tawna Fenske (by the way, go to her blog and check out the details on how you can get a skinny drink coaster). Anyway, this character's name is Cody, and I don't think I'll be giving too much away if I tell you that he's a slightly (okay, maybe more than slightly) quirky, former professional football player with a fair amount of skill in the kitchen.

Even before I started reading the book, I thought I would make a stop at Cody Pass part of our Great Making Waves In Kentucky Book Tour. How delightful to then start reading and make Cody's ( I mean, Cookie's) acquaintance!

Don't you just want to know who lives on Cody's Ass? Me, too.

Since Cody is such a great cook (and because we were volunteering in a friend's booth), The Big Guy and I took MAKING WAVES to the Queen City Sausage Festival Sunday evening. I might point out that the Queen City is Cincinnati, and the Queen City Sausage Festival was held in Newport, Kentucky. But whatever. You can see Cincinnati from Newport.

A view of Paul Brown Stadium (home of the Bengals, be afraid. Be very afraid. Or not.). Also, the Roebling Suspension Bridge, built by the same guy that did the Brooklyn Bridge (and we'll sell you some of our bridge, too. Note the artsy sunset photography. The smog in the Ohio River Valley is very conducive to pretty colors at sunset.

I suspect that Cody, I mean Cookie, might have appreciated the Andouille Sausage and pasta, although I can highly recommend the goetta Reuben. If you don't know what goetta is, you gotta getta sample. It looks nasty, but is seriously tasty. Google it.

I can also recommend the Cottage Pie Bites. Not the name, but the pastry itself.

One of the fun things about the Ohio River, between Cincinnati and Newport/Covington/Ludlow/Bellevue, is the boating. I know you can't hear this, but the drunken revelers on this raft of boats must have had binoculars, because they started chanting "Tawna! Tawna!" when they saw me carrying the book around on the shore. Really.

Okay, maybe not. But they looked like they were having fun, and I bet if I'd asked them too, they would have started chanting. Come see us during the WEBN Fireworks on Labor Day Weekend. They'll take off their clothes and chant then, too.

Thus concludes Part II of the Great Making Waves In Kentucky Book Tour. We have a couple more stops to make, but I've been so busy reading the book, I haven't gotten out to take it places. The 115 degree heat index isn't helping, either.

Oh, BTW, a shout out to Gregor Mendel, who would have been 189 today. Eat some peas in his honor.

Making Waves in Kentucky, Part I

2011-07-18T11:04:00.001-04:00

As I mentioned last week, I won a blog contest at Don't Pet Me, I'm Writing. What I won was an ARC of Making Waves, the debut novel of Tawna Fenske. And the opportunity to take Making Waves on a tour of Boone County, Kentucky.

Northern Kentucky may not seem like the most interesting destination on the planet. Yeah, we have Cincinnati just to the north of us, but, really...it's Cincinnati. Northern Kentucky is considered by most to be simply "Southern Cincinnati". But I would like to point out that there are a great many interesting places to visit in NKY, especially if you have a dirty mind.

So I bring you part I of the Great Making Waves in KY book tour. Yeah, this is going to be a multi-parter, because I need blog topics this week.

Day 1: I arrived home late Friday night to find a big brown envelope in my mailbox. I took it to my favorite place in the whole wide world:

Here I am, about to make the aquaintance of Alex and Juli and the rest of the crew: Cody, Jake, and Phyllis. Can I just mention that, before I became Teri, that I had an evil twin named Phyllis?

Then my daughter and I went to our family's campsite. We have a little spot near the mouth of Gunpowder Creek.

I introduced Making Waves to Grandpa's boat, but Grandpa wasn't there to take us for a ride.

Fortunately, The Big Guy was able to get our boat fixed so we were able to get out on the water.

When I was in college and drove down I-75 with my friends on our way to Spring Break in Daytona Beach or Ft. Lauderdale, we always giggled at the signs for Big Bone Lick State Park. Well. I never thought I would find myself living so darned close.

Or, as the Sam Stanley Experience called it (before he could read): Big Bone Lipstick Park

People don't believe me when I tell them that this stuff is real, but you should really visit the thriving metropolis of Sugar Tit (actually, most people, especially the mayor and the post office, call it Union). There used to be a sign, but it got stolen. Huh.

I bet more people would go to services here if it were called the Sugar Tit Baptist Church.

In case the Union Baptist Church doesn't work for you, there is also:

OR:

Yes, if you zoom a bit, you can see that this is the Beaver Lick Baptist Church.

Just in case you are not Baptist, there are some other options, but none are quite as interesting.

And thus ends the first day of the great Making Waves in Kentucky Book Tour. You can follow our exploits on twitter, look for #makingwavesinKY !

Work in Progress

2011-07-13T10:08:00.000-04:00

I just thought I would give you a glimpse of my WIP, tentatively titled Safe Harbor. I am really proud of myself, because I've spent months feeling like a big faker, like a poser, like someone who just wants to be a writer without actually doing any writing. I've started and abandoned several projects, but keep coming back to one in particular. I have the opening scenes, I know the characters, but have been dragging my feet because I didn't really have the plot clear in my mind. It was really hard to come up with scenes to write when I wasn't really sure what the point was. To quote my boyfriend, Toby Keith, "If you don't know where you're going, you might end up somewhere else"

Anyway, as of last night, I have FINISHED AN OUTLINE!

That's it: That little brown notebook, the flash drive and the post-it notes. My outline and first few chapters.

I realize that I do not deserve a Medal of Honor or anything.

Thankyou, Leroy, you are my hero!

I don't deserve a brownie button, or even a brownie. But I can pat myself on the back today, because I know where this story is going, and I am not afraid to put on my sneakers and keep it moving. There is a line in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous about Trudging the Road of Happy Destiny, and I totally love that imagery. They weren't talking about the road TO Happy Destiny, as though happiness were a destination, but I think they were saying that being on the road, trudging along, IS happiness. And it's so much easier to trudge if one can see a few steps ahead on the path.

So. What are you working on that is giving you some sense of purpose and accomplishment today?

Performance Anxiety and Monday Stuff

2011-07-11T13:39:00.000-04:00

My blog posts keep getting diverted today. First thing this morning, I was going to tell you about how I am going to take an ARC copy of Making Waves, Tawna Fenske's upcoming release, on a bloggy book tour of Beautiful Boone County, Kentucky. If you don't know Tawna, you have to check her out. She's here: Don't Pet Me, I'm Writing. Then I though, well, maybe I should wait until I've already done it, in case something goes wrong. But then I didn't have anything to talk about. And Lord knows, I need to talk about something.

Then, I thought maybe I'd show you some cool pictures of science stuff. I have some really neat pics of the work I'm doing...Below are some neurosphere cells that are either alive (green) or dead (red). How exciting is that? Yeah, I know, but I have to give those summer interns something to do, and counting cells keeps them from making bombs out of the dry ice.

Here are some more neurosphere cells, but these are a little older, and some have been scraped off. Then we watch them grow back and see how far they grow. I know, you're very jealous, and can't understand why I might want to be a fiction writer, but I am just very, very selfish. These guys are red because we stained them with an antibody that detects astrocytes. I know, cool, right?

But wait! There's more! If you stay just one more moment,you get NEURONS at no extra charge! Those are the green ones:

While you are all trying not to be jealous of my exciting life, I'll be in the microscope room, taking more pictures of cells for undergraduates to count.

Entertainment Today

2011-07-06T14:02:00.000-04:00

Wow, didn't realize I left the Dead Dog post up for so long! It's been a busy couple of weeks at Casa del Stanley, getting ready for a graduation party and so forth. Plus, The Big Guy has been home this week, which always throws off my routine.

Anyway. I have been doing a little writing, following the Civil War thread and realizing that I am WAY under educated on the topic. But whatever. It's ficiton. If the citizens of the Commonwealth of KY can create a Confederate heritage, I can certainly make up details about life in an era about which I know nothing.

I have also been reading and stuff, and here's a rundown:

Okay, WOW. I had been studiously ignoring everyone who was so excited about this series. You know, YA, not enough nekkid parts to keep me interested. But I gave in, and WOW. It's like, Lord of the Flies and Survivor combined. And, okay, I didn't actually read Lord of the Flies in high school, but I did read the Cliff's notes, so I know the gist. I'll be chasing down the next two in the series soon.

The Big Guy and I watched this last night. Not the most original concept, really, but Good VS Evil always works. Great Abs and tattoos help, too. And an angel/zombie apocalypse is always nice. The ending was a little corny, but fortunately it came at...the end...so it's not like I had to overcome major corniness to enjoy the bulk of the movie.

Speaking of corny:

Rob Lowe: This look says it all: "I know I'm going to make an even worse Navy SEAL than Charlie Sheen, this mustache itches, and I have to fart."

There is a reason none of us have ever heard of this movie. When I saw the listing for it, I thought WHAT!? There is a Navy SEAL movie that I haven't seen? And it's got ROB LOWE is in it?

Ugh. I lasted about twenty minutes. I'm not sure if it was the ridiculous mustache, or the Officer and a Gentleman Wannabe-ness that got me, but I'm still shuddering a little. Thank GOD our boy Rob has recovered so nicely:

And finally, it's once again the season of the Vampire: True Blood is back!

I have to say that I was not terribly impressed with the first episode of the season. Too much going on, too many stories to get caught up with, and in a bizzare "Who Shot JR?" kind of a thing, Sookie experienced a bit of a time warp. If you don't get the "Who Shot JR?" reference, Google "Dallas".

The second episode was better, but Bill isn't looking so good. He's got kind of a Dick Clark thing going on...his hair is too dark, and it contrasts poorly with the sexy little signs of aging that would go nicely with salt-and-pepper hair. There was a lovely scene of Bill doing nekkid stuff with...someone...but I was distracted by the fact that The Bearded Wonder and The Big Guy were both in the room with me while it was on, and honestly: The Bearded Wonder IS an adult now, but I don't need to know that HE knows where to put tab A. Fortunately, we DVR'd it, so I can go back and watch again in slow-mo without my offspring around.

And hopefully next week, there will be more ERIC!!!!!

Good Dog, Lucy

2011-06-30T08:35:00.000-04:00

Lucy and Sam's leg. Lucy almost never stopped moving, even up to the end, so we have almost no decent pictures of her. If there is a black blur in a photo, it's probably Lucy.

I had to have Lucy put to sleep last Friday. She was 14 1/2, and she was a good dog. A pain in the neck, but a good dog.

When she was almost a year old, and I was pregnant with the Drama Queen, she got into some rat poison and almost died of internal bleeding. We joked at the time that I should have stayed at work an hour longer. Then she wouldn't have made it, and saved us a lot of time, money and trouble, but we didn't mean it.

The Drama Queen almost didn't learn to walk, because every time the baby stood up and tried to take a step, Lucy was there "helping" her. The kids would complain, "Mom! Lucy WAGGED me again!", because she had the world's most extraordinarily powerful tail, and she was a very happy dog.

Lucy was, I am sure, greeted at Heaven's Gate by all the other creatures she sent before her. There were a few turtles, some baby bunnies, a hamster, a parakeet (that last one is a story best left untold).

Our other dog, Stella, seems to be doing okay. She's been laying in Lucy's spot on my bedroom floor, and may be losing weight because she no longer gets to steal half of Lucy's food. She spent a day sitting in the hallway, unwilling to budge, but I think that was probably more because she's waiting for Sam to come home from Boy Scout camp than Lucy.

I was doing okay until yesterday, when I checked the mail and found a sympathy card from the vet's office, signed by the entire staff.

Good Dog, Lucy!

Kentucky History: Who knew?

2011-06-27T15:07:00.000-04:00

I live in Kentucky. I've lived there for 12 years now. Before that, I lived across the river from Kentucky, in Ohio. I went to school in Ohio, and didn't take Kentucky state history, so I have an excuse for my ignorance, but...

Did you know that Kentucky was NOT a confederate state during the civil war?

I didn't, not until Friday. I have this idea for a historical story set in Kentucky, during the reconstruction period, just after the end of the "War of Northern Aggression". And there is a doctor in it, so I thought I'd see what I could find out about the history of medical schools in the region, and one thing led to another, and all of a sudden, I'm reading that Kentucky was not a confederate state, it was a Union state.

I suspect there are an awful lot of other people out there with the same misconception. Why is that? Well, for one thing, although KY didn't leave the Union, it was still a slave state, and so it was still a big deal for slaves to make it across the Ohio River on their way to freedom. That's why the National Underground Railroad Freedom MuseumNation is in Cincinnati.

Apparently, Kentucky wanted to stay neutral, because they thought they'd be better off financially. Even though a lot of people owned slaves in Kentucky, the economy wasn't as dependent on slavery as the deeper South. It's all very complicated.

So aside from the whole slave thing, why would I think Kentucky had been a confederate state? I am exaggerating here, but it seems like half of everyone in the state with a pick up truck has a confederate flag hanging in their rear window (FYI, the other half have "Dale Earnhardt #3 stickers).

I actually found a book someone wrote about how Kentuckians kind of created a confederate history for themselves after the Civil War, so it's not just me who is confused. And a third of the soldiers from Kentucky fought for the Confederacy, so there was some definite rebel sentiment...but 2/3 is more than 1/3, so you'd think that the majority would have ruled after war, especially since the UNION WON THE WAR (there are those who, apparently, haven't yet been informed that it's over).

Anyway, now that I have THAT straightened out, I am on a quest to learn more about Kentucky. I wonder what else I am misinformed about? Secretariat was really a girl with a strap-on?

Bo and Luke Duke weren't related to Daisy? Wouldn't that have made the series more interesting?

My brain is shutting down.

More Help= More Work

2011-06-24T12:18:00.000-04:00

I've been back from vacation for a whole week and have had like -10 minutes to read ya'll's blog posts, much less write one of my own. The reason? We have been flooded with summer students in the lab.

Not sure what the deal is, but in addition to our graduate student, our part-time paid student helper has gone full-time over the summer, and we have three volunteer student workers here to work in exchange for experience. "Here to gain experience", loosely translated, means, "Never been in a lab before."

So not only do I have to teach them all about our projects and make sure they have something to do at all times, I have to teach them things like, "You CAN'T wear flip-flops in here because we spill nasty chemicals." "You CAN'T chew gum in here because the radiation safety Nazi's come around and give us demerits, even though noone in this lab has used nukes in 6 years."

It's all good in the long run, we have some very bright and willing people here (even though three of them are named "John". We have John, New John and New-New John. The latter is actually the oldest of the bunch, he just showed up last. We have Johns. Hey! Get your mind out of the gutter! We're not that kind of a lab. Granted, we would be if we could be.

Anyway, my blogging might be a bit sporadic this summer, because I can't seem to get that middle of the experiment time which I normally use to bug my writer friends. I have to actually work. WTF?

A vacation from my vacation

2011-06-20T19:13:00.000-04:00

I would love to shower you with great pictures from my vacation, but I didn't actually take any.
Naturally, my big plan to get up in the morning and drink coffee on the deck while writing lines and lines of brilliant prose didn't actually happen. I did get up in the morning and drink coffee, but there were too many people floating around for me to concentrate on writing.
It was nice, though, honest. There is no place like Lake Cumber
land. It's absolutely gorgeous, the water is incredible, the people are nice, there are sunsets, wildlife, interesting rock formations, and best of all:

WADE'S DISCOUNT GUNS, FURNITURE, and FAMILY FITNESS. I kid you not. There IS a picture of this place, but it's on the camera of the Bearded Wonder's girlfriend, so I have to wait for her to send it to me. I think there is a martial arts center in there somewhere, but really, what more do you need? Unfortunately Wade's wasn't open when we drove past, so we didn't stop in to shop.

Maybe next year.

Traveling with the Drama Queen

2011-06-10T08:41:00.000-04:00

We are heading south next week for a lakeside vacation. This is the first time we've a) taken the Significant Other (the Bearded Wonder's on again girlfriend) and b) left one behind. The Sam Stanley Experience has to work at his Manly Job saving lives of drowning rich kids (he's a lifeguard at a country club).

That means that two of our three delightful progeny will be happily occupied for the week. The Drama Queen, unfortunately, is harder to entertain. She has exactly two friends that we would be able to tolerate for more than two hours at a time, and they are both busy next week, so she's coming without human companionship (the Big Guy and I don't count, for obvious reasons).

Last weekend DQ and I went camping with the girl scouts. She bitched and whined about going. "I'm only in Girl Scouts because you want me to be. I'm quitting after this year." We got there, she had a great time, recieved her Silver Award for a service project that involved helping a friend who has a Neurofibromatosis. We got back in the car to drive home and she reverted to Psycho Bitch From Hell.

She spent this week attending a volleyball camp for a sport she ASKED ME TO SIGN HER UP TO PLAY, but DID NOT want to go to the camp, because she ALREADY KNOWS how to play volleyball, and this CAMP IS STUPID because she SUCKS at volleyball, she doesn't have the right shoes, the right shorts, any knee pads, everyone else there is mean and already knows how to play and her arms hurt and she really wanted to play basketball and she's going to deliberately fail the try-outs for the team if I make her play....

And now I'm going to spend a week with her in a house on a lake with no other kids, no cable, no internet. We are going to have SO MUCH FUN!

Pray for me.

Caught Between The Sad Dog and The Sad Vet

2011-06-08T09:41:00.000-04:00

Okay, so first of all, this is NOT a picture of Lucy, my old dog. Lucy has black eyes, and hasn't sat still for a picture in 14.5 years. Every shot I have of her is a blur of black. But she kind of looks like this, with a little more German Shepherd to her. Her momma was a German Shepherd, but her daddy, obviously, was not. Oh, the scandal that must have caused in the neighborhood!

Anyway. Lucy is 14 and a half years old. that's like, 700 in dog years. When she was 1, and I was 8 months pregnant with the Drama Queen, she ate rat poison. I came home from work and found her collapsed from internal bleeding caused by the coumadin in the poison. The Big Guy said at the time, "If you'd just stayed at work an extra hour we could have saved $500 in vet bills." Sensitive soul, my BG. but she recovered and became the barking scourge of two neighborhoods...cops in two counties have come to talk to us about this dog (who, I have to say, has never been left outside for longer than 15 minutes at a time--and still barked enough to annoy every neighbor in town).

Lucy has a "vigorous" tail, and repeatedly knocked down the kids as she enthusiastically encouraged them to play. "MOOOOMMMM! Lucy WAGGED me again!" Poor DQ almost didn't learn to walk, she was wagged so much.

About 10 years ago, she sprained a knee and started getting touchy about being petted or brushed near her back end, and bit Grampa once when he was petting her. Oops! She'd never gotten along with other critters, and attacked any animal that came within 5 feet of any of us. This was great as far as feeling my kids were safe in the yard with her, but not so much for baby bunnies who wandered into the yard. Or turtles. Or other dogs.

Then, six years ago, The Sam Stanley Experience had a severe head trauma, requiring brain surgery and a long, boring summer in which he was not allowed to run, jump or otherwise act like an 11 year old boy. While camping one weekend, he came to the camper all excited because he'd been found by a lost, starving, flea and tick riddled little chocolate lab. I panicked when he opened the camper door and let Lucy out, sure there was about to be carnage. The little lab rolled on her back, exposing all her soft bits. Lucy walked over, sniffed her and went off to pee on a bush, and Stella was invited to join the family. Stella kept Sam company during his convalescence, and Lucy didn't mind.

Anyway, Lucy's delicate hiney has gotten more and more sore. She frequently falls down steps and drags both of her back legs. She's peed on my floors so much that I can't have company until I get new carpet.

I took her for a check up yesterday, and the vet said she probably has some nerve damage back there. I'm sitting there thinking, "Duh, she's 14. I need her to move to the next level so I can de-stink-ify my house and have company again. I'm tired of having to remind the kids to let her out every hour on the hour." Of course, as I was thinking this, I started to cry.

So the vet said, "We can give her some anti-inflammatory drugs and see if she perks up a little, but I'm not promising anything."

And I'm sitting there, thinking, "Uh, Dude, I really need you to tell me that it's time to put her to sleep."

Instead, I took the drugs, spent another $200 on vaccines and bloodwork and took my dog home. Do you think maybe she'll have a heart attack in her sleep in the next few weeks so I don't have to make a decision?

In Which I Over-Think the Pen Name Thing

2011-06-06T11:51:00.000-04:00

I've finally decided to take the plunge and join RWA. I haven't done it so far because I just wasn't sure I wanted to spend the money to join a club that I'm not sure I'm worthy of joining. But I've connected via twitter and blog with a few local writers and have been encouraged to come to the local chapter (OVRWA) meeting, and I figure I might as well do it. Get my feet wet. Dive in. Can you tell it's 99 degrees outside here and I am jonesing to get in the pool?

Okay, so I've downloaded the RWA application. I'm getting ready to fill it out and fax it in with my credit card information (or maybe I'll write a check, and send it in. I need to agonize over that decision for a couple of hours).

Now after I deal with the check vs. credit card issue, I have to decide who I am. I have been blogging and tweeting as Teri Anne Stanley since last fall. That's not my real name. My real name is Tracy. Get it, Tracy/ Teri, both kind of derivatives of Teresa? And my mom's name is Ann, and Stanley is just...well,he's my favorite Brockmann hero. It's better than Leon, which was the name of my diary when I was in middle school. Okay, this is not complicated, I can see the space on the application for my given name and the space for my pen name, such as it is. I can deal with that part!

But when I show up for the meeting, do I just introduce myself as my original self, or my pen name self? Is it totally nerdy to use a pen name when I haven't actually published anything? It's not that I am trying to keep my daylight self secret from you writer peeps, it's more that I'm trying to keep a bit of a screen between my girl scout troop, sunday school friends and science geek co-workers and my super-secret fantasy world of romance, smut and intrigue.

Why do I have a pen name?
First of all, because I have another blog under my Day Name (that's what I'm calling it now), which my girl scouts, and kids' friends' parents visit on occassion. I don't want them googling me and coming up with a discussion of why size may or may not matter...or, God forbid, finding me on Twitter in the middle of a discussion about almost anything...Anthony Weiner has nothing on wildly Tweeting romance writers!

Secondly, my boss thinks romances are only read by pathetic people. I have taken up the sword and defended our genre, suggested she might read something written later than 1978, and she now believes me to be pathetic. I am okay with this, I think she kind of thought I was pathetic before she knew what I like to read; but it's a fact that a lot of people in academia have prejudices about what is intellectually worthwhile. So I don't really want to open myself to derision from the "intelligentsia" of the Cancer and Cell Biology department. And I don't want my boss to see how much work time I spend online.

Finally, I am afraid that if it gets out among my casual friends that I want to be a writer, then they'll start asking me about it. Asking to read stuff, asking when my books will be available at Kroger (as if!). And then, if I decide to pack it in and go back to knitting and watching sit-coms at night, they will think I'm a loser for giving up.

Maybe that last reason is totally wimpy, but it's there.

Anyway, what do you think? How do I introduce myself in real-life? Do you have a pen name? What do you do?

What is it about MEN?

2011-06-02T09:14:00.000-04:00

I have come to the realization that men are different from women. Writers, that is. I know, duh, there are anatomical issues, and male writers write different stuff than women. And granted, I am primarily a romance reader, so I kind of expect a specific outcome for my protagonists, the Happily Ever After. The heroine falls for the hero, he falls for her, they fight, they work it out.

Now granted, sometimes the hero might fall for the other hero AND the heroine and trice-versa, or some variation of the theme. Sometimes the heroine might shop around a little bit before winding up with the hero, but we always know who is supposed to get with whom.

Last week I read two different books by male writers, and in both books, the heros wanted to get with a woman. But I got the distinct impression that it didn't need to be a specific woman. In both books there were a couple to choose from, and the most convenient woman "won". WTF? Now, granted, neither was a romance. Both were thriller/suspense/mysteries, but in both, we know, early on, that the hero has a love interest. And it changes somewhere along the line, and it's like, "Oh well, that one's not working out, but this one's here, so I'll do her instead."

I was kind of swishing this thought around in my mind, and then I read a story by Chloe Cole, "Conned" in the recently released anthology, Undercover Lovers, (which I highly recommend when you are in the mood to be "in the mood"). In "Conned", human sexuality professor Cricket and biology professor Tuck decide to do an experiment with aphrodisiacs. There is a discussion of what works for women, and what works for men. Cricket says that "A man can literally F%3k a watermelon..."

And yet somehow, still, Cricket and Jack find their HEA! Of course, maybe it just wasn't watermelon season.

Exhibit A: Long Lost, by Harlan Coben

Let me just say that I LUUUUURRRVE Harlan Coben novels. He is the Supreme King of the Universe of bizzare plot twists. I especially adore the Myron Bolitar series. Myron is a former almost-professional basketball player turned sports agent and crime fighter. I also love Myron's main trusty sidekick, wealthy ne'er do well and slut puppy, Win, who also sidelines as not only a trusty sidekick but closet ninja warrior in his own right. Myron is an all-round good guy with a hero complex. He's NOT a slut puppy, except...

As Long Lost begins, Myron is in a relationship with a nice woman with children. He gets a phone call from a long-lost lover (hence the title, I'm guessing), who invites him to Paris for a good time. He is conflicted. Conveniently, his soccer mom girlfriend gives him the heave-ho. Myron shrugs his shoulders and heads to Paris. Really? Come ON, Myron! Now granted, he needs to get with the long lost lover in order to run into international terrorist and rescue damsels in distress and give Win a chance to do his thing. But I need Myron to feel a little more angst over switching bedmates so easily. Not that I won't give him a second chance. Or even a third.

Exhibit B: Dinosaur Hunter, by Homer Hickam

This was a fun book. I downloaded it as an audiobook from the library and it got me through hours of manipulating photos of cell culture scratch wound assays (you don't want to know what that means. It's not very exciting). The basic premise is that this retired cop-turned-cowboy is living on a ranch, in love with the woman who own the ranch, and some dinosaur hunters show up and want to do a dig on the property. There are Russian mobsters:
(I alway picture my boyfriend Viggo Mortensen when I think of Russian mobsters), small town politics, survivalist/right-wing separatists, teen love, all kinds of stuff. But here's the thing: At the beginning of the book, Mike tells us he's in love with his lady rancher, but it's love from afar, he's afraid to act on his feelings, maybe she's still in love with her dead husband, yada yada. Mike's had an affair with the married mayor of the nearest town, but that's over. Then the dinosaur hunter guy shows up with two women assistants. Both seem willing and interested in doing Mike. Almost arbitrarily, it seems, he winds up with the Russian one. And okay, she's the more damaged of the two women, needs a hero, etc., but early on, it appears that Mike really doesn't mind WHO he gets with, as long as he gets with someone. He falls in love with the one who crawls into his tent.

Is this true of all guy-thrillers? I'm thinking that I had the same issue with the John Sandford novels, though it's been a while since I read him.

I've been thinking of diving into the Jack Reacher novels of Lee Child, but I need to maybe wait until summer is over and there aren't so many watermelons laying around. But by then the pumpkins will be ripe. Sigh.

This Week's Midlife Crisis

2011-05-31T08:30:00.000-04:00

I have to confess that I haven't been writing at all for the past several weeks. Between The Sam Stanley Experience's high school graduation and the Drama Queen's, well, drama, I haven't had much energy to face any of the projects I have unfinished on my flash drive. I was taking a mini-nap yesterday afternoon and as I was drifting off to sleep, I had these thoughts:

I am 47. Soon I will be 50. Then I only have 10 years before I am 60. When I am 60, I'll be old. I have less than 10 years to get my sh&t together and do the things I want to do.

Okay, I know that 60-47=13, which is more than "less than 10". But I was in the doze-zone, so my reasoning may have been a little off. More to the point, who says that 60 is old? I mean, I realize that 60 is closer to old than, say, 30. Then a friend told me about a relative who died of a heart attack at the age of 50. Which is definitiely not old. I also know that I could get hit by a runaway Metro bus on my way to the parking garage after work today, in which case "old" is irrelevant.

I am working to redirect my perspective to constantly remember that ALL WE HAVE IS TODAY. This is a pretty common statement in the recovery community...that whole "One Day At a Time" thing is not only about sucking it up and getting through life without your addictive substance one day at a time, but also about enjoying the moments that you have. Plan for the future, but live in today.

I find that I do much better if I have a plan, a schedule, some organization. If I just get up and say, "Okay, world, lets just do whatever," I don't get much done and I end up tired with nothing done. If I have a plan, I get stuff done. The funny thing is, it's not necessarily the stuff on the list, but it's still good stuff! I believe that this is an old Jewish adage: MAN PLANS, GOD LAUGHS. And I'm okay with that! I have a great sense of humor. I used to get really twisted up if I had a plan and someone came along and threw me a monkey wrench. I would pout and fuss and do the door slamming thing. But something--maybe it's the AA thing, maybe it's maturity--has allowed me to adapt to detours. I have my own personal motto, which I am trying like heck to get the Girl Scouts to adopt: We don't have to "be prepared". We can IMPROVISE!

So for today, my PLAN is to clean up the lab, organize my project plans and recent data, make sure my independent study students have plenty to keep them busy, and in the slow moments, open the file that contains the outliney/synopsis thing for one of the WIPs I have, and expand that a bit. Maybe I'll go for a walk.

Now, my boss might come in here in a few minutes full of shower ideas (she gets her "best" ideas in the shower. It is my job to listen politely and explain why none of those experiments are worth our time), and I might have to spend the rest of the day trying to stay awake while reading journal articles, researching a whole new project, one of my kids might call me and need to go to the doctor or something. A Metro bus could crash in front of my building and I might be needed to rescue people.

You just never know! What I do know is that I have a great life, and I'm going to enjoy the next five minutes!

Goal Setting Goals

2011-05-25T11:59:00.000-04:00

I am setting a goal today...to set some goals. I have been in a micro-funk the past few hours (which some of us might call "waking up on the wrong side of the bed") and have decided to yank my whiney ass out of it. I have had a bit of "writer's block" which is really "Writer's Unwillingness to sit Down and Write".

So I'm going to set some goals and cross "set goals" off of my to-do list.

1) Finish a novel

One word at a time. I can do this! I just have to open that notebook again! Unfortunately, the title "Love's Secret Sniper" seems to have been taken. Damn.

2) Do the Couch to 5K thing.

I've been playing around with this idea for a while, and actually went out a couple of weeks ago and bought new shoes and jogged a couple of times. But that hurts. My sciatica flared up, my arches are whining, I am whining. Which means I should maybe slow down a little and not aim for a five minute mile...maybe I'll just sign up for something in the fall, and try to aim for running half of it and walking the rest. One step at a time.

3. Lose thirty pounds.

Can you say: "Body Image Issues"?

Eh, Whatever. One pound at a time. Starting tomorrow.

I really mean it this time!

Do it WRITE from the beginning? I think not.

2011-05-20T08:59:00.000-04:00

I've spent so much of my writer-life time worried about whether I am a panster or a plotter that I probably could have written six novels by now. Add in the time that I spent agonizing over word choice in one of my many first-draft works in progress, and I probably could have finished them all.

A recent discussion with a crit partner about making characters three-dimensional led us down the path of how to flesh out our characters without dragging down the action. She sent me the opening of a WIP and it's great...the conflict is laid out right away, and it's clear who the protagonists are, and they are very likeable. It's going to be a great story.

But what does the hero look like? Does he have a mane of golden waves begging for hands to run through it? Gawd, I hope not. Maybe his hair is perfectly appropriate, but mussed as though he's been running his own frustrated hands through it, and our heroine has the completely inappropriate desire to smooth it into place.

What does the heroine think when she sees him for the first time? Hopefully she doesn't immediately have diaper-changing floods of arousal, but does she feel anything physical when she sees him? A rush of hot and cold adrenaline when she realizes the tight spot she's in, and with whom she's in this spot ?

Clearly this stuff is important...but when do you put it in the story? I tend to be in such a hurry to get the action down that I forget the details, and the details are the spice. Otherwise it's just, "There's this guy, and he meets this girl, and they have some problems, but they work it out and live happily ever after." As a writer, do you add detail right from the get-go, the first pass, or do you go back and flesh stuff out later?

I ask this because my perfectionist self says that if I am going to do something, do it right. And that somehow translates to doing it right from the beginning. I get so bogged down in perfecting my first few chapters that I run out of enthusiasm until the next great idea crops up and I start all over, trying to do it perfectly from the beginning.

And don't get me started on rearranging plot details as I go!

Have a great weekend, and go out and write something!

Whatcha Readin'?

2011-05-16T11:04:00.000-04:00

Once upon a time, when I was a kid, I had two or three books in progress, and my mom said, "I don't know how you can do that. I can only read one book at a time."

For whatever reason, the committee in my head decided that reading more than one book at a time was a BAD thing. It probably fits in with the fact that I am really good at starting things and not finishing them, but with books, this isn't the case, unless the book suck. Even if the book sucks, I feel guilty if I don't finish it. Kind of like how I feel guilty if I divide my day lilies and don't replant the ones that I am casting out of the spot next to the front door. I feel like I am committing flower murder. But I'm Catholic, I can live with guilt.

ANYWAY, as most of us do, I have spent many hours of my adult life overcoming the lessons I learned as a child (and instilling different, but no less damaging values in my children). I now have three or four books in progress (kind of like writing...how many WIPs do I have? Ummmm....)

I have a little book I keep in my purse with a list of books I want to read...back list stuff of authors I like, books that other people have recommended, that sort of thing. I decided that I would also keep a list of books I've read in this little notebook. I'm not keeping a list of the ones I'm working on, though...so I think I'll share the past week's reading list with you:

On audio disc, in the car: The Heart of a Soldier, by Capt. Kate Blaise.

This is a true story of a couple who fell in love in high school and both became soldiers fighting in Iraq. It's an awesome memoir. The true-life love story, the details of life as a female soldier in the first days of the invasion of Iraq...I have been in tears at least four times so far, and I've only listened to half the discs.

On my Kindle: Dead Witch Walking by Kim Harrison

This is the first book in the Hollows series. According to the Suzanne Johnson system of identifying a genra by it's cover, this is Urban Fantasy (badass woman with tattoos. If it was a guy with rock hard abs, it would be a Paranormal Romance, FYI). We are reading this as a book club thing on Suzanne's Preternatura Blog, 2 chapters a week. Come join us!

Paperback #1: When You Dare, by Lori Foster.

I'm a Lori Foster fan from back in her Harlequin Blaze days. I loved most of the MMA fighter guy books, so have hopes for this new series. Not sure I am buying how this Hard Core Alpha Guy falls so instanly in love with the woman he accidentally rescued, but the story doesn't suck, either. Definitely going to finish it!

Paperback #2: Premeditated Murder, by Ed Gaffney

This one is a legal thriller, and I should put in the disclaimer that Ed Gaffney is the husband of my hero (have I mentioned this before?) Suzanne Brockmann, which kind of prejudices me to like it before I open the cover. I met Ed last October (which gives me the right to call him "Ed" and not "Mr Gaffney") and he was a really nice guy. I'm only a couple of chapters into the story, and there are a LOT of POV's going on, which is a little hard to track, but the plot has got several threads...there is a regular kind of guy who killed a bunch of terrorists, the president, a lady reporter, a couple of lawyers, some other seemingly unrelated deaths. I kind of run hot and cold on legal thrillers in general, but I like the characters I am supposed to like (at least I think they are the ones I'm supposed to like!) so I'm definitely hooked.

On my Crackberry Kindle app:
Tied Up, Tied Down by Lorelei James

Yeah, kids, this is this week's Smut Selection. I've actually read this whole series already, and it's worth a re-read. Definitely Ero Rom, and some of it's a little cheesey; but there are great secondary character story arcs all the way through this series.

I am also sloooowly but surely critting a great "suspense with romantic elements" for the lovely Dawn Alexander. I am pushing her to ramp up the romance, maybe we can start a twitter campaign for some nekkid parts (although I'm only halfway through. Maybe there will be nekkid stuff and I just haven't gotten to it...).

That's what I've been reading. Any surprise I haven't been getting my writing done? What have you been reading?

SEAL of the Week: President Obama

2011-05-12T09:29:00.000-04:00

I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. I really am done obsessing over SEALs. I mean it this time.

Everything I know about the history of the world, I learned in a Romance Novel.

2011-05-06T06:46:00.000-04:00

I wonder how many internet searches have been done on Navy SEALs this week, and how many of them were done by horny romance-reading women?

Okay, this picture is just hot. I think it came from the Washington Post. Note the fine muscle tone, the edgy tattoos and the scar. Is that a knife wound? Hot. Just hot. Would it be tacky of me to us this as my desktop background at work?

Over at the Smart Bitches blog, Sarah even did a post all about romances featuring Special Forces (or Special Ops, there is a difference, although as long as there are muscles and testosterone, who really cares?). I would like to point out that my hero Suzanne Brockmann's first Troubleshooters book, The Unsung Hero, is the primary suggestion.

Anyway. I've notices that every day this week, MSNBC has had some sort of story about SEALs and people at work have been talking about them. One of the student in our lab said to me, "Wow, you sure know a lot about Navy SEALs". Ummm. Well, I read a lot. I didn't specify that I haven't necessarily been hanging out in the military history section of the library.

Come to think of it, I know a bunch of stuff about the world, all thanks to romance writers who do research. I would have NO idea about Bonny Prince Charlie if it weren't for all those shirtless men in kilts. What about you? How has your romance reading prepared you for Jeopardy?

My Plans for World Domination and Other Stuff

2011-05-04T10:10:00.000-04:00

So I have a new plan to save the world. I don't really want to dominate the whole world...although I might be convinced to take charge (ahem) of certain people if they beg (heh).

Here is my plan: Let the Navy SEALs and CIA guys all retire to be cabana boys and replace them with 13 year old girls, led by my daughter, Drama Queen. DQ can roll her eyes, cross her arms, slam doors in a way that makes waterboarding and other "enhanced interrogation techniques" obsolete. She can then chatter about absolutely nothing until the bad guys just roll over and beg to be sent to Guantanamo.

My imaginary boyfriend Master Chief Viggo in GI Jane

Being a cabana boy would be the perfect retirement job for any SEAL. They would get to run around on the beach, roll around in the sand, carry heavy thing (trays of drinks and my beach bag). They would also be allowed to do it semi-nekkid (oh hell, who am I kidding? Completely nekkid!) instead of having to wear all that nasty equipment (Well. Some equipment can't be dispensed with, of course *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*).

In between thinking up great ideas, I've been critting a story for the lovely and talented Dawn Alexander. You should visit her blog, she has all kinds of fun ideas percolating around. I'm also participating in the Dead Witch Walking Book Club at yonder Preternatura Blog, hosted by the equally lovely and talented Suzanne Johnson. She's got some short stories you need to check out, because her upcoming book is going to totally rock.

Not sure what those CIA guys should do in retirement...any thoughts?

Deciding how to think about the Death of BinLaden

2011-05-02T11:05:00.000-04:00

"Faced with the death of a man, a Christian never rejoices, but reflects on the serious responsibility of everyone before God and man, and hopes and pledges that every event is not an opportunity for a further growth of hatred, but of peace.”

My friend posted this on her facebook page today...it's from a statement released by the Vatican about the killing of OBL. I think it's a profound reminder for today. So I'm trying to keep this in mind in between doing the happy dance and googling for pictures of Navy Seals.

Semi-Nekkid:

Kinky:

Fallen Hero:

Bad Hair Day:

Okay, that's all. Have a great Monday, everyone!

I want to be a Romance Novel Title Picker

2011-04-26T20:05:00.000-04:00

I spent a few minutes at the Book Rack this afternoon, browsing the "these are so old we can barely give them away" pile, and I found some that were definitley worth the .50 I spent on each of them. Not sure they'll be worth the time to read them, but I'll give it a shot.

First up is Song of Autum, by Mary Cummins.

Perfectly cheesey 1976 romance cover picture. This is not a Harlequin, it's a Magnum. Whatever. The first line is what jumped off the page and grabbed me:

"Nell Merryman stepped down from the bus in the main street of Cockermouth, and looked round with appreciation. "

How can you not want to read this book? Have I ever mentioned that I live really close to Big Bone Lick State Park? Maybe I don't have room to talk, but I have GOT to go visit Cockermouth. Whereever it is.

Next up: A Flaunting Cactus, by Wynne May

WHAT THE HELL IS A FLAUNTING CACTUS?

I mean, really. Maybe it's like a Christmas cactus, but I've never heard of one. Doesn't mean it doesn't exist, but that's just the dumbest name, ever. I thought Harlequin was really bad at contemporary titles, which are pretty lame: The Cop's Secret Baby, or the Sheik's Secret Bride or whatever. But at least you have a hint about the contents of the story. This one has a couple in formal dress on the cover. Not a cactus in sight. Maybe "cactus" is a metaphor. We'll just have to see. Stay posted.

I also bought an early Harlequin Temptation. A Touch of Madness by Deirdre Mardon, we'll see how it stands up to later Temptations. I like the cover on this one, though, because if you squint, it kind of looks like an early Ted Danson there about to get some spit swappage.

Anyway. It was a fun trip to the used book store. What have you found lately?

What's in a Dirty Word? A LOT, Apparently.

2011-04-25T10:23:00.000-04:00

Anybody ever read a story that started with the line, "I never thought it would happen to me..."?? Just wondering.

I've talked before about how important it is for me to have an emotional connection to a character before the sexy stuff gets started, and now I want to talk about what happens after I am in love with the hero.

For some reason, this weekend, my Twitter Feed was being blown up with pet peeves about erotic writing (maybe because I follow a lot of erotic writers?). Now, let me just say here (in case my mom has discovered by pen name and is reading this) that my goal as a writer is not necessarily to write smut. I was kind of aiming for the romantic suspense road, but seem to keep getting sucked into (so to speak) stories that just lend themselves to going down (so to speak) a lustier path.
I don't know where I'll end up, but while I am on this little literary detour, I'm thinking about what works for me and what doesn't when I read a sex scene. And it doesn't matter if it's classified as "Erotic" or "Contemporary" or "Paranormal", there is a lot of great sexy stuff out there. There is also a lot of stuff that sounds icky or takes me out of the story, or just plain doesn't work for me.

There is a great series of posts at the Dirty Birdies blog about this kind of stuff (I'm not linking you to any specific post, because today's isn't specifically about this topic; it's written by my pal Tiffany Reisz about her upcoming release, The Siren, so I'm doing some pimpage while I'm ranting).

My freshman year of college, when we all realized we were old enough to BUY P#*N, many of us subscribed to Playgirl Magazine. I can honestly tell you that there is not a single nekkid photo that I remember from those magazines (mostly, probably, because there was some rule about the guys having to be, um, floppy, and how boring is that?), but I do remember the stories. We would howl with laughter and highlight the alliteration (we were in college, and we knew words like "alliteration" and how what it means). My favorite was "Rock hard rod." Fortunately I don't run across "rod" as a euphemism any more. But as bad as some of that writing was, I read it. And I started sorting the good from the bad.

Some of the issues that crop up for readers is body position. As in: How on earth does he get his mouth THERE when his YOU KNOW WHAT is THERE?

Other people hate first person point of view. I have to admit, it takes some skill to write first person POV in a sex scene, but I've seen it done.

Many of us have "ick" words. "Cream", "Seed", "moist" and "Channel" were mentioned on Twitter last night. I guess maybe it depends on your genre, because those words don't bother me so much when used in historical love scenes; but in contemporary ones, I keep thinking about how cream has a white, thickened consistency, and that, in certain body areas, is an indication that a trip to one's gynecologist is in order. Just sayin'.

My personal "Bleh" word is "erotic" when used to describe something, well, erotic. "His kiss was the most erotic kiss ever." BZZZZZZ. Sorry. Word fail. "His kiss scorched her from the inside out" might work better for me. "Erotic" is a total "tell" word for me. If you are telling me I'm supposed to be turned on, you might as well unlock the door and make some popcorn, because my obstinate nature will shut you down.

Okay, I'm going to stop here and ask you all: Who do you think writes really hot love scenes? Not necessarily specifically erotic writers, although I love those, too...but who would you recommend as a model of a writer who does "it" right?

Imaginary Research

2011-04-21T11:16:00.000-04:00

I have a theory, based on fourteen seconds of email conversation with a writing friend. We are both happily married and have lots of imaginary boyfriends. I know that there are people out there who think that reading romance sets us up for unreasonable expectations from real relationships, but I read somewhere that married women who read romance "get lucky" twice as often as women who don't (which makes sense to me. I've read Tom Clancy, Stephen King and Dan Brown, and rarely have those writers put me "in the mood").

I wonder if the same romance-reading women are twice as likely to stay faithful? Are we more likely to stay married? I mean, if we can crawl into a fictional Happily Ever After, every now and then, does it take the edge off of the "O. M. G. What was I thinking when I said yes?"?

As of yesterday, The Big Guy and I have been married 20 years. O. M. G. We are working our way through our Happily Ever After--sometimes it's a walk in the park, many other times it's a labor of, well, LOVE. I suspect that making it this long without killing each other (and only occassionally wanting to) is due in equal parts to Love, Hope, Faith and plain old Unwillingness to Quit; but I am willing to give the Romance Writers of America their percentage, too. Sure hasn't hurt things any!

The Great Author Quest

2011-04-18T09:37:00.000-04:00

Good Morning, and Happy Monday! I can say this because noone can smack me upside the head through the computer. I am not REALLY cheery this morning, but I'm working on the whole Power of Positive Thinking deal. I've been such a fuzz brain for the past month that I'm determined to find my way back into the light.

Yesterday The Big Guy and I started on The South Beach Diet. As a confirmed Food Addict, I know that the word "diet" is considered a major no-no. The politically(?) correct term is "Lifestyle Change". Whatever. "Diet" means "The stuff you eat", so TBG and I are eating the stuff that is suggested on the South Beach program. I got on the scale this morning and I lost five pounds since yesterday. TBG said the inevitable "It's just water weight", but that's okay...that "water" weighed five pounds. I am thinking positively.

Anyway, that's not what I'm here to write about today. While perusing the Monday morning Blogpost extravaganza, my friend Jessica Lemmon wrote about an author (Gina Wilkins) she discovered last week while laying around trying to survive an earache. I hastily scribbled down the name in the "Authors to Check out" section of the little notebook I carry around with me.

I suppose many of us compulsive readers keep a list of books they've read, books they are looking for, that sort of thing. I have a cute little black and pink plaid notebook with pages and pages of author names and their books. I'm a big fan of series, so I love to find an author I haven't read and hunt down all of her/his books, in order. I go to Fictiondb.com and look up my writer. This site is great for listing the series that a writer has, with the books in order. Then I copy them into my little black book and start the hunt. I am not a big user of goodreads. I think it could be useful, especially if I didn't blog or tweet, to connect with other readers/writers; but I can't carry it with me to the bookstore (wait, is there an App for that?). I still need my little black book to keep track of my TBR list, and I'm not inclined to double dip the organization...one list is enough!

I usually start my search at the library. I am fortunate enough to live in an area with three pretty decent public library systems. Each has a branch or two that is close me at some point in my day (work, picking up kids, home). Then if the library doesn't have it, I'll hit The BookRack, which is my favorite used book store. They don't pay cash for used books, they give you store credit...which, for me, pays off pretty well. After the BookRack, I will hit Half Price Books. Last, but not least, Amazon.

Now let me stop here and say this: When I find a writer that I love, I will buy her/his books new. I totally want to support writers. After all, one of these days, I'm going to have something out there that I want people to buy! But in the beginning stages of my love affair, or when I can't find a new copy of something, especially backlist stuff, I do used. I am like the Crocodile Hunter, sneaking through the stacks, hunting for sight of the elusive first novel of my latest author crush.

What about you? How do you keep track? Which authors do you love to hunt?

Studying the English Language HAD been fun at one time.

2011-04-14T08:58:00.000-04:00

Okay, not really, but the topic of past perfect verb usage has come up in conversation lately. When is perfect not so perfect (and why is it called “perfect”?)?

I dragged the lab copy of The Transitive Vampire off the shelf (yes, even Science Geeks find good grammar to be useful) but found it to be fairly useless on the subject. “Had” is used as a helping verb in the past perfect tense, but there isn’t much explanation about how to use it to write a best-selling novel (or even one that passes muster with one’s critique group).

I am kind of an intuitive writer, and usually can get my verb tenses, pronouns and numbers to agree without too much thought. I think. Had thought. Whatever. I need help with commas, of course, and have to remind myself not to end a sentence with a preposition; but most of the time, I think I do okay (all right, all right…yeah, there is that run-on sentence thing. Whatever.).

Past perfect is used to express an action completed in the past:

Dave slammed the door and ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the short strands. Regular old past tense, which is how the action of the story is told.

What the hell had Carol been thinking? She had stepped in front of the bank robber with no regard for her own life. Now we are into past perfect: the past of the past.

That seems pretty straight forward, but it gets really tedious to read, especially when we are delving into back story (especially really ridiculous backstory):

Dave couldn’t fall in love with someone who had no regard for her personal safety. It made him think about his mother. She had jumped in front of a speeding train to rescue a baby seal who had been stranded by a psychopathic zookeeper. She hadn’t been killed instantly, but instead had lingered: her body had been shattered but her mind had remained intact. Knowing that his mother had been aware of her condition had been the worst thing to watch…

So what are the rules here? I did the usual Google search, and came up with plenty of websites with specific rules about how to use past perfect.

This website was helpful, and has exercises to practice on:

http://www.englishpage.com/verbpage/pastperfect.html

But what about a long paragraph, or even a long flashback?

Blog wisdom seems to suggest that using past perfect at the beginning of the flashback (or whatever) and then switching to regular past tense is appropriate, as long as you are clear about the time change when leaving the flashback for the “real” time of the story.

http://tracey-rolfe.blogspot.com/2007/06/past-perfect.html (I love that this is another Tracy/Tracey/Traci worrying about this stuff)

http://forum.wordreference.com/showthread.php?t=442276

If I were to rewrite the previous paragraph intuitively I would probably do this:

Dave couldn’t fall in love with someone who had no regard for her personal safety. It made him think about his mother. She had jumped in front of a speeding train to rescue a baby seal who had been stranded by a psychopathic zookeeper. She wasn’t killed instantly, but instead lingered: her body had been shattered but her mind remained intact. Knowing that his mother was aware of her condition had been the worst thing to watch…

And okay, that’s just messy. Granted I would never submit a manuscript with my verbs highlighted to emphasize their lack of agreement. What do we call that: tense hopping? I am terrified of head hopping, now that I know what it is.

Now that I am thinking about this past/past perfect tense thing, I am wondering if I should find the nearest Grammar-holics meeting. Anyone want to be my sponsor? I am sure there are books out there I should buy…can someone tell me which is the Big Book of Grammar-holics Anonymous?

Not all vampire junkies dye their hair black. Who knew?

2011-04-11T10:27:00.000-04:00

There are a lot of writers that I really like, and there are a few that I absolutely LOVE. These are the writers who create characters that crawl into my psyche and take up residence. They tend to write series with ongoing character arcs. I suspect that's how a great character finds his way into my heart. He starts out as a bit player in someone else's story and starts to grow, having his own point of view scenes until he has to have his own story.

I am pretty sure that I have mentioned Suzanne Brockmann here before (ya think?). She does this character thing as well as anyone I can think of, although she's just kind of tied up her Troubleshooter's series for a while. I am anxious to see what is next, and to try to figure out how she does it.

My other hero-author is JR Ward, creator and WARDen of the Black Dagger Brotherhood and Fallen Angels. Lover Unleashed was, um, unleashed a couple of weeks ago. I LOVE those vampires. They are big, bad, kinky, damaged heroes. At first I was kind of horrified at the dorky names: Wrath, Vishous, Zsadist, Phury, Torhment...really? But I got over that and the names started to seem normal-ish, to the point that I'm thinking I might have to rename a couple of my kids. In true fan-geek fashion, I bought a copy of Unleashed for my Kindle so I could read it right away, but made plans to attend the signing she held in Cincinnati on April 9th.

I live in Northern Kentucky, and the Barnes and Noble where the signing was is about a 40 minute drive from my house. The signing was scheduled for 2 p.m. on Saturday, which was right between The Sam Stanley Experience's boy scout pancake breakfast fundraiser and prom. Since the Prom Date Goddess lives in Cinci, I thought, Well, lets head out around one, get the book signed and I can get TSSE to PDG's by 4, no problem.

Wrong! Have you heard the adage, Man Plans, God Laughs?

We got to Barnes and Noble at 2 on the dot. Sligtly later than 357 other rabid JR Ward fans. I know this, because I got a line ticket that was number 358. TSSE immediately got nervous.

"Mom, we are never going to make it. Can't we just skip it?"

"No. I just paid $20 for a hard copy of this book that I already have on my Kindle, I'm going to get it signed. I love this writer, I want to be her when I grow up."

So we got in line, somewhere in the religion section, and began slowly, slowly inching around the periphery of the store. I was amazed at how many people were there, how many DIFFERENT people, all humming with excitement. I have to confess, I had some preconcieved notions of what a JR Ward fan would be like. I expected mostly young goth/ comic-con type women with dyed black hair and multiple piercings, tattoos and boots. And there were some.

There was one pair of girls who had home-made BDB t-shirts with their chosen warrior's name on the back (for those of you who are not in love with a Brother, here's the deal: In the Black Dagger Brotherhood, a male has his bonded female's name tattooed on his back during a mating ceremony. Any true hard core female would totally get her male's name on her back, too.). What was really awesome was that they had a guy with them, presumably a boyfriend, who was also wearing a BDB t-shirt. I didn't get close enough to see who he had on his back, but I was quite impressed that he had been roped in to appearing in public.

Meanwhile, Sam was getting more and more nervous about getting to PDG's on time. There was a couple behind me in line, who seemed very much like average middle class suburbanites. Like me. Turns out they were very much like me. I am all about meeting people who are different than me and finding common ground, but I am not prejudiced against soccer moms, so we started to chat. They actually live about a mile from me. How crazy is that? We had driven separately, 40 minutes away, to meet in line at Barnes and Noble. I complimented Jim for being such a good husband and willingly suffering through the experience. Not that The Big Guy wouldn't have done this with me, I just didn't ask him.

Behind Jim and Dawn were the most surprising fans of the day. Two handsome young men in their thirties, getting books signed for their wives, who were at a Pampered Chef party. My comment to them, "Oh, boy. You are getting SOOO lucky tonight!" Which they both agreed was part of the plan. One of the guys had read the books and liked them. His comment: "Lots of violence and sex. What's not to love?"

A few steps further and TSSE and I had made it past Religion, into History, and there was no way in hell that we were going to make it all the way to the travel section, where the WARDen was holding court, before we had to leave. Dawn and Jim graciously took my book and I gave them my cell phone number. I figured I could run TSSE to PDG's and get back before Jim and Dawn got to the head of the line. I didn't need to bother to stick around to take prom pictures, that's what PDG's parents were for.

What happened instead was that Jim called just as I was pulling in to PDG's driveway. They already had the book signed. Would I like them to drop it off for me when they got back to KY? How cool was that?

I am very sad that I did not get to bask in the aura of one of my favorite writers, but the sad thing is totally cancelled out by everything good that happened. TSSE got to PDG's on time and I was able to stick around and watch the preparations and the arrival of the limo and meet PDG's parents and neighbors. I got Dawn from the bookstore's email address and we are going to talk books. How 'bout those warrior vampires...not only saving their own species, but uniting humans across the tri-state!

Oh, Carlos.

2011-04-07T15:14:00.000-04:00

This is the only picture I took in Mexico. I really would like to say something clever, but really...a picture is worth a thousand words. As a writer, I know I should try, but all I can say is that this is a real drug store in the Cancun airport...and you just walk in and pick up your little blue pills (and the antibiotics with which to chase them) and pay for them. No messy prescription needed.

We really had a great time on our anniversary vacation. The Big Guy and I went with two other couples who were also celebrating 20 years of wedded...Bliss, yeah, that's it! We stayed at the Now Sapphire resort on the Mayan Riviera. Great resort. Not a complaint in sight.

Okay, one complaint. The background music that looped endlessly through the dining/pool/bar area was really, really weird. It was this easy listening kind of jazzy, light, female singing covers of stuff that didn't quite hit the easy listening, kind of jazzy, light sound mark. I was almost okay with 3 Little Birds (Bob Marley) done elevator style, but Buffalo Soldier? Followed by Satisfaction. My friends heard a version of Sweet Child of Mine, but I missed it. The kicker for me? Radiohead's Creep.

Anyway. I learned several things in Mexico.

1) Carlos was supposed to be a six-foot tall cabana boy with six pack abs. Instead, he was a five-foot tall shyster in the airport, who sucked us in to buying discounted snorkeling trips in exchange for suffering the time share experience at the Moon Palace Resort (which was lovely, but still).
Lesson: Keep Walking. TBG, the only one of us who suggested we NOT take Carlos up on his offer, was very nice, and never even once said "I told you so."

2) Carlos was supposed to be a six-foot tall cabana boy with six pack abs. Instead, he was a five-foot tall shyster in the airport.
Lesson: Mexican men in Mexico are, on average, no taller than the Mexican men in Kentucky. Someone was passing a link around last week with a map of the world and average, uh, man part lengths which suggests that Mexican men don't need to be tall, but I can't verify that this is true. Anyone?

3) To a Mexican bartender, "Virgin Margarita" sounds just like "Frozen Margarita." I was really good and didn't spit tequila across the bar when I took my first sip of alcohol in 8 years. I also didn't fall off the wagon. It was just a sip, it wasn't intentional, I didn't feel a buzz, and I didn't drink anything else. I never got to go to an all-inclusive resort as a drinker, and I might have felt like I didn't get my money's worth, but I remembered the most important Lesson of all: Free tequila is never really free.

Cancun is absolutely beautiful. We did get our snorkeling trips and I found Nemo. He's safe and sound living next to some purple fan coral of the Isle Mujeres. The people of Mexico were delightful. The guys on the boat ride to the snorkeling place did the best Titanic skit I've ever seen, and they do a lovely impression of Ricky Martin singing YMCA (You kinda had to be there).

But now it's back to real life, laundry and carpools and science experiments that don't always work. I found my favorite pen and I'm all recharged and ready to do some more writing!

Confessions of a Closet Writer, a guest post by Kate Pembrooke

2011-04-01T08:00:00.001-04:00

I'm kinda busy with my cabana boy, Carlos, and my hubby, The Big Guy right now: In another three weeks or so TBG and I will have been married 20 years. We've actually been nice to each other for part of that time, so we are celebrating in Cancun. We are with two other couples, all of whom aspire to be the least fancy people possible, which totally rocks, because there is no pressure to have "the right clothes". I am pretty sure I might even lose the rattiest sweatshit contest.

My very first writing friend, Kate Pembrooke has graciously agreed to do a guest blog for me while I watch The Big Guy arm wrestle with Carlos for the right to rub my feet. Kate and I met in an online writing class. I was the obnoxious one in the back row, heckling the teacher and she was the nice one in the front row who told me what the homework was when I fell asleep.

Our lives as writers are pretty similar. Kate is who I would be if I weren't too lazy to do the research necessary for historical romances. And she would be me if she was inclined to raunchiness. Unfortunately, she has a thing against Ohio State, but I am practicing my open-mindedness.

Without further ado, I bring you...Kate!

Confessions of a Closet Writer

My name is Kate and I’m a closet writer. For years it’s been in the back of my mind that I’d like to try my hand at writing a book. Someday. When the kids got older, when I wasn’t homeschooling any longer, when life got less hectic. So I’d jot down story ideas and sketch out scenes. I completed some short stories and even dabbled in writing poetry. All to keep a connection with writing even though it wasn’t the writing I really wanted to do. Well, the kids are older, I no longer wear my teacher hat (or at least only in a supplemental way to help with homework), and, well, I’m reconciled to the fact that life will probably always be hectic.

So about a year ago, I decided the time had come. It was time to stop thinking about writing a book and get busy doing it. I started taking online classes through RWA. (In fact, that is how I met Teri Anne. We were both taking a plotting class and we connected with each other since we were the newbies of the bunch.) I set writing goals, which, sadly, I didn’t always meet. But for the past year I have been writing. Not as regularly as I should, but steadily at least. I completed NaNoWriMo and, in the process, learned a lot about myself as a writer. Namely I really can write more words in a day than I thought I could. It all comes down to BICHOK. (Butt in chair, hands on keyboard)

This year I joined RWA and my local chapter of RWA. And let me say right now that the writing community is filled with some of the nicest, most generous people I’ve ever met. Initially, my main reason for joining was because I know myself, and I always take something more seriously if I’ve forked over money for it. But the encouragement and support I get from the writers I have met at the monthly meetings has proven it was money well spent.

I’m slowly transforming from a writer wannabe into a writer. I’m still a closet writer though. I haven’t reached the point where I feel comfortable boldly proclaiming that I’m working on that book I’ve always wanted to write. I don’t mind sharing my writing ambitions with other writers. They understand and, more often than not, are eager to offer suggestions to help me along my writing journey. The circle of people who know I’m writing has expanded since a year ago. One of these days I may even let my friends and extended family in on my secret.

The Big Smoocharoo

2011-03-29T08:14:00.001-04:00

I know that you are all still devastated that I lost my post yesterday about strong heroines...but as a wussy heroine myself, I am still wallowing and not quite ready to try again. Besides, I forgot what I was going to say.
Fortunately, MSN this morning has a link to the 25 most fabulishious Movie Star Kisses, at least according to "In Style"

Of course, the first kiss up is Rhett and Scarlett, duh. I didn't even really "get" Gone With the Wind, but I totally would have thrown down with Rhett Butler. Ashley Wilkes? Oh come on. His name is ASHLEY fer chrissakes.
Some others on the list:
Lady and the Tramp

When Harry Met Sally

Pretty Woman

Ghost (So the kiss referenced is the one where Whoopi Goldberg channels Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore kisses him/her. That didn't really work for me, but the pottery scene was pretty hot)

Titanic

Love Story

Twilight (kissing cold dead guys really doesn't work for me either, but hey...that leaves more warm guys for me!)

Slumdog Millionaire

Say Anything (and I don't remember the kiss from that movie. What I remember is John Cusack standing outside holding a boom box playing "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel. The. Most. Romantic. Scene. Ever.

Breakfast at Tiffany's

From Here to Eternity (which looks great, but I can't stop thinking about all that sand getting in the naughty bits)

So what movie star kisses are your favorites? When writing a kissing scene, do you try to channel Patrick Swayze, or do you practice on your pillow?

Monday Alert

2011-03-28T09:31:00.000-04:00

I just spent half an hour writing a BRILLIANT post about Marshmallow Fluff heroines, complete with well-developed examples and insightful analysis of how to have a wimpy-on-the-inside-tough-on-the-outside heroine, but then my sweater sleeve got caught on something, I hit the wrong button and now it's all gone.

It's Monday, that's what happens. As a tough-as-nails heroine myself (yeah, right), I'm just going to reload and move on.

Have a great Monday, maybe I'll try again later...but I'm also going to Cancun in a few days, and I need to get my toes polished so that I won't be self-conscious when the cabana boys are rubbing my feet.

It's all about the Brownie Buttons

2011-03-24T11:44:00.000-04:00

I am a sucker for a reward system. I belong to Spark People and get little fake goodies for loggin in, reading the healthy stuff, exercising, all kinds of good stuff. I am a girl scout leader, my girls get badges and awards for fulfilling requirements for a particular activity. I have a son who is working towards becoming an Eagle Scout.

And now I have a reward system for being a writer! Ali Cross, the Writing Ninja has just developed a belt system for us writers who are struggling with where we are in our process. I totally LOVE that I can now proudly say, that I am a White Belt with two stripes Writing Ninja (I don't think I'm ready to be turned loose to save literature from television yet, but I'm working on it!).

Go, me! This means that I have done the following:
1) decided to call myself a writer
2) actually started writing
3) started a blog
4) started following other blogs
5) have been writing in earnest for six months
6) have been blogging for six months.

How fun is that???
After I've been blogging for 12 months and joined a writer's association, I'll get my yellow belt! Yay.

When to Be Nice, and When to Keep The Pie Hole Shut

2011-03-23T16:28:00.001-04:00

I have been diligently reading Breaking the Rules this week, I'm a little over halfway through.

I can't read all the time, though; fortunately it's easier to minimize my screen while I'm blogging than to hurredly shove my Kindle in a drawer if my boss comes in, so I can still get my fiction fix.

Anyway. I was perusing Twitter the other day, while I wasn't reading, and an author, whose work I like, posted a link to a blog where someone said some pretty mean, critical stuff about her. I commented, because I thought what the blogger said was mean, and I felt like I should say: "Hey, if you don't like her work, don't read it. If you don't like HER, keep it to yourself." Of course, I tried to say this in a rambling, blithering way, and I suspect that I probably should have just kept my mouth shut. Or my fingers still, as the case may be.

I have been learning a TON of useful stuff about being a writer since I started blogging, and it's not all about not using adverbs and how to "show not tell". I am learning the business lingo, and maybe, one of these days, when I finish something, I'll be educated enough to pimp my work. I've also learned that maybe I shouldn't offer to review something and blog about it, unless I've already read it and love it. I don't mean I am unable/unwilling to post an honest opinion of something. If something doesn't work for me, I don't think it's a terrible thing to say, "This scene didn't work for me because...", but on the other hand, I don't ever want to say, "Wow, this whole thing really was unreadable."

I do understand the Golden Rule of opinions: "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all". But what are the exceptions? If someone else is being mean to someone, what would you do? On the one hand, it might be best to just stay the hell out of the fight. But if someone is being picked on, and you feel like you need to defend that person, do you speak (type) up? What do you say?

(I just realized that I used "on the other hand" in the paragraph before I used "on the one hand". Hopefully I'll learn to stop doing goofy stuff like that!)

I'm much better at this in person. When one of my kids says something mean about another kid, I know how to shut that down. I know how to bite my tongue during office gossip parties (I know how. I didn't say I actually DO bite my tongue). So what about here in cyberspace? I don't want to get voted off the Island before I've found the immunity idol!

Reading Slumpage

2011-03-21T10:32:00.000-04:00

We interrupt the nail biting excitement over the impending release of (my hero) Suzanne Brockmann's newest (and dare we fear LAST--at least for a while--Troubleshooters Book?) for some whining over the state of my brain.

But first, let me interrupt the interruption to gush:

Which is being released on March 22, which is in 13 hours, 46 minutes. Not that I'm counting, or anything. If there is some Bizarre fluctuation in the Amazon Kindle download force, I may have to go Postal on some virtual customer service rep. But that's not what I meant to write about today.

Okay, back to the original interruption:

I am in a reading slump. I can't seem to find anything new that interests me. How freakin' bizarre is that? Okay, so I've been re-reading my favorite Troubleshooters books, just to refresh my ardor for Izzy, and Danny (*whimper*) and Sam, and Jules and Robin, and Decker, and...

And I've been re-reading the Black Dagger Brotherhood books, because, my other hero, J.R. Ward's newest,
Is coming out on the 29th. And those books totally interest me, but I know what happens, I am just re-reading because I know I'll get that "oof" when the hero and heroine's hearts collide, break open, and reform better and stronger than before.

But I am completely stressed about what to do after this!?! I mean, I'm going on vacation in a couple of weeks for Criminy's sake (who is Criminy?)! I need a new series to obsess over and fall in love with. I might note: I will totally be done with both of the new books before I leave for vacation, and there is no way in heck I'm going to "save" them. WTF? Nuh huh. Immediate Gratification is my middle name.

What should I read???? I am not looking for one heroine who is the protagonist of everything. I love Sookie, VI Warshawski, Stephanie Plum, all those ladies. But I REALLY love a good series of romantic suspense, or paranormal romance, that I can load up on. I love a good, strong, damaged hero, and a heroine I can like (don't need to love her. I'm just going to replace her with ME while I read, LOL). Dirty, kinky heroes are welcome, but not an absolute requirement. I like a good story arc, where I can follow secondary characters from one book to the next, and see how they struggle and finally get to their HEA.

Whatdya think? Any suggestions?

What About the Beta and Gamma and Delta Males?

2011-03-17T14:37:00.000-04:00

I got to spend an hour at my favorite coffee shop yesterday while I waited for the Saminator to finish track practice. I had my trusty Novel Planning Notebook with me, so I sat down and worked on some lovely scene brainstorming and character development worksheet stuff.

Fortunately, I didn't have my laptop with me, or I would have opened my WIP file and deleted everything, because I realized that I am writing a hero who is NOT ALPHA. Which means that I totally suck. There is really no point in continuing this charade of a writing life. I don't know what the hell I am doing, noone will EVER want to read what I am writing, it's BOOOORRRRING.

I mean, everything I love to read has an ALPHA MALE in it, doesn't it? All those Black Dagger Brothers are Alpha. All those Troubleshooters boys are Alpha. Vampire Bill WAS Alpha, at least in his little arena, until Sheriff Eric showed up, and then Sookie dumped Bill like yesterday's dirty underwear (and took an almost detour with Alcide, who's an Alpha Dog. Sam is totally not an Alpha Dog, which is why Sookie's never gonna get busy with him).

According to my homies at Wiki: "The term "alpha male" is sometimes applied to humans to refer to a man who is powerful through his courage and a competitive, goal-driven, "take charge" attitude. With their bold approach and confidence "alpha males" are often described as charismatic. While "alpha males" are often overachievers and recognized for their leadership qualities, their aggressive tactics and competitiveness can also lead to resentment by others"

I also found information on How to Be an Alpha Dude, in case any guys out there need help with this.

So what about all the rest of the men out there? Are they not getting ANY? I can ask this question, because, honest to God, I have one of those Alpha Dudes of my own. His abs could use some work, but other than that, he totally qualifies. And while I'm at it, is everyone in England the offspring of royalty, since only the Alpha Dukes and Lords and Counts got lucky back in the day?

What is it about the Alpha Dude that works in romance? According to Smart Bitch Sarah:
"readers are more likely to read about Alpha males with strong moral integrity, a hidden tenderness or the ability to be lethal while consistently choosing not to be—those make for some delicious heroes. Alpha heroes could be anything. They could be the alpha of a wolf pack, a literal alpha. They could be commanders or military officers or police chiefs. They could be lords or, depending on the mythology or theology of the romance in question, The Lord. (Heh—God, the Ultimate Alpha Male, particularly in the Old Testament.)."

Here is what works for me with the Alpha Dude: He's commanding at work, around other Dudes, and he kicks ass on a regular basis, but here's the thing: He's secretly terrified that someone will find out that HE'S NOT REALLY ALL THAT. And here, of course, is where the heroine comes in. She strips away all that tough guy crap and see's through his armor; and he has to learn to trust that she will still want him if he's vulnerable, yada yada; then Hijinks Ensue and we all go home with satisfied smiles on our faces.

So what if our hero is just a guy? Okay, an above average, smart, cute, funny guy; but not necessarily The King of The Universe (just Master of his own Domain?).
I am thinking of Goodnight Tweetheart, by Teresa Medieros, in which the hero is just a guy, as far as we know. We don't actually see him interacting with any other men, so we have no idea where he is in the food chain. And maybe that's how he gets away with the heroine...his only competition is himself. But that's the only recent example I can think of.

So help me out here...what other kinds of heroes are there? What books with really totally sexy hot heroes (who don't have to be in charge all the time) can you reccommend?

66.66 words a day

2011-03-16T10:16:00.000-04:00

I have really been on a roll the past week or so...okay, not really. I started off the month of March with a bang, determined to get into NaNoWriMo mode and crank out a lot of words, to really get the Shitty First Draft out of my head.

I scribbled together a sort of an outline/treatment/synopsis and sent it to a couple of friends for their (biased, because they are nice and they like me) opinions, got some suggestions, and started writing. First day, 2000 words, YES!

It's now March 16, and I have gotten to 3000 words...that is 66.6666666 words a day. Occassionally I've done 133.33333 words in a day because I had to skip a day...but still.

Granted, they were really, really good words.

Okay, that's all!

Songs About Leaving

2011-03-14T12:05:00.000-04:00

My husband travels a lot for his job. He's a consultant, and works for companies that are out of state. It's challenging, because we have three teenagers and I also work full-time AND we own a tire/auto repair business. We seem to be making it work. We've been doing things this way for two years now and have a bit of a routine. The weekends are pretty packed full with pick ups from the airport, catching up the books for the shop, doing laundry and packing again, dropping off at the airport, and, oh yeah...spending time with the kids AND having a marriage. And then there are the weekdays I spend trying to coordinate carpools and doctor appointments and getting work done at my real job (and I really think I have time to be a writer?).

But you know what? I am grateful. My husband is a consultant. In the U.S. I get to see him every weekend, and while I know accidents happen, I don't worry that he's going to get blown up by a roadside bomb or come home with PTSD (although some of those layovers in Atlanta can be pretty awful, I understand). And hey, there are the frequent flier miles that we are accumulating!

Anyway, as it happens, I was dropping off the Bearded Wonder (my eldest, the one who, thankfully, drives) to pick up the Hubby's truck at the airport this morning, Gary Allan's "Watching Airplanes" came on the radio. What a great song:

Sittin' out here on the hood of this truck lookin' up
At a caramel colored sunset sky
Checking my watch, doin' the math in my head
Countin' backwards from when you said goodbye
Well, those runway lights are getting brighter.

I'm just sittin' out here watchin' airplanes
Take off and fly
Tryin' to figure out which one you might be on
And why you don't love me anymore
Right now I'm sittin' out here watchin' airplanes

I won't post the whole thing here, but this song always sends me off into my head, making up stories about this guy and his troubled heart. It seems that songs about leaving do that for me, get my creative juices flowing.

One of my very first favorite songs was "Leaving on a Jet Plane", which I just Wiki'd and learned that, even though it was made famous by Peter, Paul and Mary, John Denver wrote it. I loved that song. "My bags are packed, I'm ready go.."

Ya'll are SO lucky that you can't hear me sing over the internet. SO lucky.

I was never crazy about "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" by Paul Simon (although I love just about every other song he's ever written), but "Last Train to Clarksville" (the Monkees)...now that's an old heart breaker.

So. Songs about leaving get me going, because I really like to think about what coming back must be like. I want all my stories to have a "My baby, she wrote me a letter" scene in them, too!

Do you have a favorite "Leaving" song?

Diary of a Science Geek

2011-03-09T10:26:00.000-05:00

A friend loaned me a copy of look me in the eye by John Elder Robison, who has Asperger's and is also the brother of Augusten Burroughs.

Augusten Burroughs, you'll remember, wrote Running With Scissors, a memoir of his (excuse my %$'s) F$@&*'d up childhood, as well as Dry and Magical Thinking .

This got me thinking about all the great memoirs I've read. So I thought I'd try to list some of the ones that have had the biggest impact on me (which means that I remember them, not that they necessarily changed my life)
I'll Sleep When I'm Dead is the story of Warren Zevon, as told by his former wife.
Noone Here Gets Out Alive, about Jim Morrison
Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, by Chuck Barris, of Gong Show fame...wherein he claims to have been a CIA agent. I don't know if this is true or not, but I sure do remember reading that and going, "Huh."
Operating Instructions, by Anne Lamott, which is about becoming a mother, and Traveling Mercies, about spiritual stuff.
In the eighties, when I was really cool, I read a lot of Hunter Thompson, which might be autobiographical, except...yeah.
I also read The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, which isn't strictly memoir, but was pretty darned interesting.
I seem to read more memoirs by Rock and Roll types than Movie Stars, or even Writers (who are usually too busy writing, to write, I guess).

Okay, there have been many, many more, and I'm sure I'll think of them all as soon as I hit "Publish Post". But I would really like to know what the rest of you have read...who is interesting to you? Why?

I've been Outed! No Biggie.

2011-03-07T09:19:00.000-05:00

I went to a fundraiser dinner/dance/auction thing the other night for my son's school. I was walking around with a casual acquaintance looking at the baskets available for the silent auction, and we passed a basket of paperback books. She said, "Oh, I want to know about the writing thing you go to." I was flabbergasted. She must have meant the Central Ohio Fiction Writers conference that I went to last fall, because I am not a member of RWA (yet) so I don't actually "go" anywhere writerly except here on the internet. The thing is, I didn't tell anyone except my husband that I was going to that COFW thing. I did post a picture of myself and my close personal friend (okay, my idol who I would stalk if I lived closer) Suzanne Brockmann on facebook, but I didn't caption it with "Hey, look at me, pretending I'm going to be a real writer some day!"

Which means my husband outed me. I imagine it went something like this:

My friend: "Why isn't Teri here at the cross country meet this weekend?"
My husband: "She went to a writer's conference in Columbus."
My friend: "No kidding! I didn't know she writes."
My husband: "Yes, my wonderful wife can do anything, and now she wants to be a romance writer, and I'm sure she'll succeed and I will support her all the way to the bank."
(okay, maybe he didn't say any of that except the part about hoping to become rich and famous. He's a bit delusional, but I love him anyway).
My friend: "That's so cool! I write, too. I'll have to talk to her about it."

How anticlimactic! Here I am thinking that when/if the people that I see everyday find out that I aspire to writerhood, they will line up on Fountain Square, strip me naked and point and laugh. Granted, it could still happen. One friend down, several dozen to go.

This got me to thinking about how many other things have been so much bigger in my mind than they are in real life. And vice versa. How many things, that I thought I would breeze through, became way bigger challenges that I expected. For me, the latter example is motherhood. Yeah, I know, I might have considered that being responsible for another life would be tough, but I had NO IDEA. Thank God, I had no idea. I probably would have kept my legs crossed.

What about you? What things have you been terrified about that turned out to be no big deal? And what did you think was going to be easy peasey but turned out to be a ginormous mountain?

When is Bad Taste Appropriate?

2011-03-02T10:08:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I have actually managed to squeek a few minutes of actual fiction writing time in this week, and I am working on a kind of a flirty email prologue thing between my H/H. She lives in Kentucky, he's originally from Kentucky, and moving back. So there is witty banter regarding Kentucky life.

Let me state here: I live in Kentucky. I love it. It's beautiful, the people are great, there is history out the wazoo. And it's funny. I have, in my county, important landmarks like Frogtown Road, Big Bone Lick State Park, the Beaver Lick Baptist Church, and the towns of Rabbit Hash and Sugar Tit. There is also the Creation Museum, but that's not something I'm as thrilled about as Sugar Tit, Big Bone, and Beaver Lick.

Anyway, I like to make gentle fun of Kentucky, but my idea of gentle fun might not be as gentle as someone else's. I tend to think it's acceptable to laugh about needing to stop and put on our shoes before crossing in to Ohio, and getting back across the bridge before the border closes at night. I laugh about being considered a hillbilly, white trash, whatever derogatory term you chose because I know it's a ridiculous designation. But I also know that I am pretty lucky--I'm a middle class white girl, a product of fortunate circumstances. I am fortunate, but I have also been insulated from experiences that might allow me to be sensitive to inappropriate ridicule.

The safe thing is to avoid poking fun at anyone. I certainly wouldn't want to hurt anyone else. How do you know when self-fun-poking gets away from you? Feel free to insert your own KY (jelly) and self-fun-poking joke here.

Maybe I Shouldn't Have Watched This in February

2011-02-28T10:28:00.000-05:00

Last night the Dear Hubby convinced me to watch Sunset Limited, an HBO film adaptation of the Cormac McCarthy book. Cormac McCarthy also wrote "No Country for Old Men" and "The Road". DH had seen it before, and warned me that it was "pretty dark." DH has an eclectic taste in movies, and occassionally hits on a winner.   And so does HBO, so I decided to give it a go. Besides, it starred Samuel L. Jackson and Tommy Lee Jones (who also directed). How could it suck?

I knew this was basically a two-man one-act play, but it still took me a few beats to follow the dialogue. S.L.Jackson really rocked his character, Black.  He was as good, if not better, than he was in Pulp Fiction, another movie with some major dialogue delivery (although who can forget Snakes on a Plane? Now THAT was some dialogue!). Black is a blue collar worker (not sure that we ever learned exactly what he did, but he wore a uniform like a maintenance guy or something) who rescues White, a professor (we don't know what he professes, besides despair), when White tried to commit suicide by throwing himself in front of the Sunset Limited. FYI, the Sunset Limited is a train that runs between New Orleans and LA.

Anyway, Black drags White home with him, and spends the next hour and half trying to convince White that life is good, and needs to be lived. Black thinks life sucks, what's the point?,  Let's end it all now. Tommy Lee Jones, who has kind of a hang-dog look about him to begin with, was a very convincing depressed guy. His accent was a bit subdued in this film, I notice.

There were a lot of great lines, but my favorite is the blessing Black said over the food he served White:
"Lord, we thank you for this food and the many blessings we have received from your hand. We thank you for the life of the professor you have returned to us and ask that you look after him because we need him. I don’t know why we need him, I just know we do.”

That kind of sums up my personal philosophy--we rarely know the meaning of the lesson until class is over, but by golly, I'm gonna keep trying to figure it out.

I really don't know who won the argument. I think that maybe you take from this movie what you brought to it. If you are a nihilist, then White won. If you are an optimist, then Black won. Hopefully more of us are on the side of Black!

Less Fear: Almost Fearless!

2011-02-23T20:05:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago, Andria, over at yonder blog My Meandering Musings had a word for 2011 contest, and I entered. Andria's word for 2011 is COURAGE and she made herself a v. cool banner to remind her of this. I entered, because I love a good contest, and because I had a word, FEARLESS, which I am trying to apply to my life this year. I won! I opened my mailbox today, and look what was inside:

Oh, for heaven's sake. It's upside down. I don't seem to be able to turn it right side up, and my photography is crappy, so it's not like you can read it anyway, but it's lovely, and it says FEARLESS in red sparkly letters.

I don't think of myself as a big chicken very often. I realized during my skiing experience that I am not a big fan of heights, but the fact that I was skiing for the first time ever was a huge step into fearlessness for me, so the ski lift thing was small potatoes. I have trouble asking for directions, and I have a fear of seeming ignorant. Yes, I, a female of the species, HATE to stop and ask for directions. My husband, however, has no problem with asking for help. Is that weird, or what?

I am afraid that people I know might laugh at me if they find out I have been writing romance. I suspect this comes from some deep-seated intellectual snobbishness that I ingested in college (There might have been a few other things that I ingested in college, I'm a little fuzzy on the details). I work in science, and my female boss has (more than once) made a comment about romance novels "all having the same plot" and "you know, she does that romance novel learned helplessness thing."

I love my boss. She totally rocks. Except for the romance novel prejudice. I might have been PMS-ing a little the last time she made the "learned helplessness" comment and jumped down her throat and suggested that she might want to try reading a romance novel that was written later than 1976. I aimed her towards the Smart Bitches, Trashy Books website. Not sure if she went, but I felt pretty fearless for meeting her disdain head on (without getting fired). After all, one of these days I might just finish something, get a jillion dollar publishing contract and quit that stupid little science geek job.

Yeah.

Anyway. I am plugging away at it. Sharing stuff with people. Not quite out of the closet with my family and co-workers, but I'll get there. The year is only 1/6 over!

Thanks a million Andria! This came at a perfect time. I've been at the hospital with my dad again, he's got some sort of infection or something that is causing him terrible pain, and everything just keeps getting out of whack. He originally went in to have a heart valve replaced, and did really well for a couple of weeks after the surgery, but then he got pneumonia, congestive heart failure and his surgical incision got some sort of persistent bacteria growing in it. They got THAT dealt with, he was doing really well, and now he's back again with...we don't really know. They've pretty much done every test available, and can't find what is causing his current fever or the horrible pain he's in. Although they did give him a morphine pump today. I'm a little jealous about that. I really could have used a dose, either before or after I had to help him use the urinal today. Of course, they put the Foley catheter back in after that...and THEN my brother showed up. Coincidence? I think not.

So there it is. I'm scared about my dad, although I know God's got him. I am not fearless, but I have less fear, and I have a banner to remind me that there are somethings, like being a writer, that I can strive for fearlessness about. Wow. Thanks for letting me ramble!

I am Number Eleventy-Seven. I Hope.

2011-02-21T11:56:00.000-05:00

So, the husband and the Princess of Angst (aka my 13 year old daughter) and I went to see "I am Number Four" on Saturday night. I think the husband was hoping for Star Wars meets Tron. When we came out, Princess Frowns-A-Lot jumpied up and down, saying, "That was AWWWWWsome!" The husband looked at her, looked at me, and said, "I didn't know I was going to see a CHICK FLICK!"

Ummm.

Okay, I have to tell you, this was not the greatest movie ever made. In brief, the story is that this kid, who starts off as Daniel Something, and then becomes John Smith, is a refugee from another planet. He has been sent to earth to avoid being eaten by bad guys with gills on their faces and bad dental hygiene, who drive around with a truck full of something that eats alot of frozen turkeys. Every few years, one of Daniel/John's brethren are killed and poor Daniel/John gets a big rose-shaped scar on his leg, and Daniel/John and his protector, Timothy Olyphant, have to move and change their names to keep hiding from the gill-faced guys.

One small problem is that John really just wants to be a normal teenager. He moves to a town in Ohio, which we are led to believe is somewhere near Cleveland, because the abandoned house he and TO move into has a Bernie Kosar poster on the wall. At some point, however, John has to make a quick trip to Indiana, which makes me think that maybe he's a little closer to Toledo or Cincinnati, but whatever. Another small problem is that there is no way anyone in their right mind would believe this guy is seventeen years old. Maybe if I was a 13-year old girl, I would be able to suspend disbelief. As a 46 year-old woman, I had a little trouble believing that Timothy Olyphant could be old enough to be the surrogate father of a 17 year-old alien, but I was okay with that. If he'd taken off his shirt, I might have been even more okay with it, but I am not complaining.

*whimper*

There is a girl, of course, who is a bit of a social outcast (we really don't need to see what she looks like, do we? She's a girl, she has blond hair, she wore berets, which made it clear that she is a little edgy and artsy fartsy). There is also the geeky side-kick, who is picked on alot, especially because he believes in aliens.

In spite of the fact that all John wanted to do was go to school and fit in, he spent alot of time walking around with his head tilted down and to the side, the classic posture for the insecure bad boy. Of course, maybe that's just Alien scoliosis, I don't know. John DID take his shirt off, and since he can't REALLY be 17, I didn't feel too creepy for appreciating the time he must have spent doing crunches during alien fighting classes.

There was also a mean ex-boyfriend of Artsy Girl, he picked on John AND side-kick boy. He was kind of a James Spader (see "Pretty in Pink") preppy jerk face guy, with dark circles under his eyes. No WAY should Artsy Girl have really gone out with him, but it was a small town, so maybe she didn't have any other choices.

So, the aliens find John. John, artsy photographer girlfriend, geeky side-kick and mysterious Other Blond Girl ((who will no doubt be in the sequel (she is Number 6. Where is Number 5?)) take on the aliens and live to fight another day. Sorry, I know I just wrecked the ending for you. But a reminder: Daniel/John takes of his shirt. It's worth the $10, even if you know how it ends.

Oh. I forgot the cute dog:

He never even bothered to put a shirt on.

In Which I Indulge in a Midlife Crisis

2011-02-18T10:23:00.000-05:00

Okay, so maybe it's not really a crisis. Maybe it's just noticing that life is for living. When I announced to my husband that I was going to try my hand at writing, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "If not now, when?" This comment led me to start working on a bucket list. It's not a fancy bucket list. I'm not going to tell you what's on it because I keep adding stuff. I have already done some cool stuff in my life. I've been in a hot air balloon with the US Navy (why didn't I appreciate that more when I had the chance?), I've been to Paris, Nashville and Las Vegas (where else do you need to go?). I can do all kinds of stuff and have had a varitey of jobs: teacher, scientist, fiber artist, bodybuilder posing suit maker.

What I have never been is an athlete. I've tried a couple of times. I played soccer for one season, when I was in the 8th grade (a LONG time ago, soccer had just been introduced to the midwestern US, so no one else had ever played, either). I did really well at practice, but when the game started, I would completely freak out. I remember feeling like I was standing in the middle of a busy highway with traffic rushing by in both directions, a helicopter beating the air above my head, and a thousand people with bullhorns, all yelling different instructions to me.

I joined a "wallyball" team in college, which is volleball played on a raquetball court, but I was really only there because it was a co-ed team and they needed girls. The guys knew that I would stay out of the way and not try to actually participate. We became the West Hamilton YMCA Wally Ball champions, thanks to my non-contribution.

Anyway. In an effort to try to get my 13-year old daughter up off the couch more often, I signed us up to go skiing last weekend with my son's boy scout troop. Oh. My. God. First, let me say that I had a ball, and I can't wait to go again. Second, third, and forth, "Ouch".

I used muscles I didn't know I have (and I used to teach anatomy, so I know which muscles I'm supposed to have). On the beginner slopes, there is this conveyor belt thingy, instead of a chair lift, and I fell getting on it, I fell getting off. I did great going down hill, though! Then, when I finally felt confident enough to go down a bigger hill, I tried the chair lift. Tried. I did fine getting on, got up in the air, and learned that I have a tiny fear of heights. I'm 46. You'd think I would have noticed this before, but apparently, like allergies, phobias can develop at any stage of life. I also fell getting off that one. There was a very nice young man waiting to lift middle aged ladies, however, which almost distracted me from my humiliation.

But you know what? I'm ready to go again. I still can't bend down far enough to tie my shoes, due to the hamstring I pulled. I also have a mysterious rash on my left shin, which my son said is from not putting my boot on correctly (I suspect it's flesh eating bacteria from non-sanitized rental boots). I am really not a fan of being cold, but it's 60 degrees out today. If the snow machines are still working out there and it's open, I'm going to drag that teenager back to Perfect North tonight.

Is this a sign that I am finally losing my grip on reality? Or maybe I am more of an adrenaline junkie than I thought? Maybe, like with writing, I am in "keep trying until I get it right" mode. I'm going with the latter option. And maybe I should go find those balloon pilots again, cause I don't think I did that right the first time, either.

Reflections of a Disordered (but VERY creative) Mind

2011-02-11T10:45:00.000-05:00

My boss gently pointed out yesterday that perhaps my record keeping skills are not where she would like them. Perhaps not even mediocre. As a scientist, keeping good records is pretty important. Although I would argue that creativity is a big deal, too. Unfortunately, I put my 99% into inspiration and 1% into perspiration, and I think it's supposed to be the other way around. I would like to point out, however that I DO write almost everything down. It's just usually on a paper towel or in Farsi.

Sigh

I have the same problem with writing fiction. ADHD much? I am making yet another stab at organization and record keeping. One of my complaints about modern science is that there are way too many places to keep information. The old fashioned way was to put it in a lab notebook. By hand. With ink.

I have one, and I like it, I use it as a kind of a journal of what I am working on. Unfortunately, I am working on a bunch of different things, so one experiment may cover six non-consecutive pages, so chasing down information requires some indexing, which is usually beyond me.

So I also have a bunch of looseleaf binders. I can photocopy pages from the lab journal, and put them in the binder (Yeah, right).

The Before Picture

Except there is this thing called a computer.

And the boss likes the computer. She likes having every thing typed in exquisite detail. Whatever.

Okay, so I'm on board with that. I can type up my experiment notes in Word, make and Excel sheet of data, make a little Powerpoint of the results and even keep it all in the same folder. I can email each file to my boss for her to work on. But where do I keep the folder? On the desktop, where it is easy to find while the experiment is active. In documents when I am about done with it. But wait, there is more! We have a shared departmental drive where we really keep the bulk of our data...but if I change something in one file, I have to go around and change it in the bajillion places I have the experiment stored.

And don't let me get started on the Flash Drives.

And then there is the fiction thing. Eee Gads! How do you all keep your writing organized? HELP!