My kids are on mid-winter break which means I didn't have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn today. Soooooooo happy.
The boys have been little vidiots since the got out of school. Corwin's been playing Halo like a fiend and Killian played W.O.W. until 4:30 am - the little dork. I called his name to wake him up at noon and he very sleepily answered, "Here." It made me giggle.
I've been working hard on writing, the day job and not much else...as plainly evidenced by the mountain of laundry and the dishes in my sink.
This week over at Writer's Evolution, we've been blogging about the awful manuscripts under our beds and I'm up today. I'd love it if you came over and had a peek.
I'll be announcing the winner of the contest tonight after 8 pm EST - so check back!
Friday, February 19, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Time to Squeeeee
I'm pretty damn happy today. I just found out that Just Right is number one at All Romance E-books! I'm not sure how long it'll stay there, but I'm freaking excited!!!
Also - the fantabulous Kris Norris made me a beautiful new website and I'd love it if you checked it out. It's all misty and blue and prettiful - I absolutely love it. I think she should start a side business of websites and book trailers! The woman does amazing work! She did her own website, too.
To celebrate, I'm going to give away a copy of Just Right. All you need to do to enter is leave me a comment on my blog and I'll choose a winner at Friday night at 8pm. Easy Peasy!
I hope you're all having a specfreakingtacular day, too!
Saturday, February 13, 2010
It's Dean Day!
What's Dean Day? I'm so glad you asked. Well, Janna, and Pixie decided that Valentine's Day is now known as Dean Day, where all us Dean Girls get together and list ten things we love about Dean.
Now, for those of you who aren't familiar with the wonder that is Dean, lemme fill you in. Last April, when Brynn went away to RT and I stayed home, she very cleverly got me hooked on a show called Supernatural. She doled out discs to me like they were crack, and like a good little junkie, I wrote the prerequisite number of pages, got my Supernatural fix and went back to Brynn for a new disc. I crammed four seasons of Supernatural into four months and managed to write two and a half books while I was doing it. Dean is very good motivation. Hell, who am I kidding...so is Sam.
In a nutshell, Sam and Dean travel the US hunting ghosts, demons and a host of other Supernatural/urban legends. There's a series long plot line about their family, good vs. evil, belonging...okay, I could go on, but I won't. On to Dean Day! (And yes, for those of you who didn't already know, I'm a giant nerd.)
Other Dean Day participants are Janna, Pixiedust, Veronica, Savory Tv, ggs_closet, Sayuri, JoJo, Eliza Gayle, Donna Grant, Leontine, Stacy, Sagi, Fallon Blake and Bellie7.
My Dean's Day list - in no particular order.
1.) Those eyes. Seriously - they're all bedroom-y and full of painful secrets. Yeah, it's that whole Dean-went-to-Hell wounded hero thing. Who doesn't love that? Also, they're green - my favorite color.
2.) Devotion to family - particularly Sam. Gotta love a guy who will do anything to protect the people he loves. And sometimes love means locking people up in a demon proof detox room.
3.) Those lips. Those kissable, bite-able lips. Le sigh...
4.) Love me some bad boy-ness. Never underestimate a guy that knows his way around weapons, rock salt, dead man's blood and iron...and also handy Latin banishing/binding phrases.
5.) Copious use of sarcasm and the best one-liners. He always makes me laugh and it's no secret, I love a man who can make me laugh.
6.) His emotional depth. Underneath that bad boy, who gives a fuck exterior is a guy who feels things deeply even though ninety percent of the time he's trying to hide it. For some reason, I find that attractive. I'm not sure, but that may make me somewhat dysfunctional.
7.) He personifies the word hero. This is a guy that never gives up - ever. Even in the face of overwhelming odds...like say, a war between Heaven and Hell, he keeps fighting even though he's emotionally and physically exhausted.
8.) I love his laugh and his sense of playfulness.
9.) Love that adorable smile.
10.) Yes, at the risk of objectifying, this guy is just hot. Typically not my type, but yeah, he totally does it for me.
The Choices I Make
Before I get on with today's post, check back tomorrow when I'll be having Dean Day in conjunction with Janna and several other bloggers.
Okay...on to the actual post:
It's no secret that the vast majority of writers love writing - I say vast majority, because at any given time, someone's having a love/hate relationship with it. Sometimes that someone is me. Writers write because they need to - it fulfills a deep seated need to create. Granted, most of us would like to be making money at writing, but the truth is, we'd write anyway. Although, I'll admit, Dakota makes a good point about piracy, the money we lose and considering packing it in because of it. But even if I chose not to write for publication anymore, I'd still write for me. Probably not at this current, frantic feeling pace, but I'd do it.
Because I'm lucky, the day job and the writing can be done from the comfort of my living room couch, often with the warmth of a catghan. (Thank you, Chris for that awesome word.) However, because both my writing schedule and the day job are so demanding, I'm on the computer all day and well into the evening. There's rarely a point where I say, "Okay, quitting time," and walk away. Someday, I hope to be far enough ahead of my schedule where I can do that.
But, that's not to say my family suffers. Of course, there are those evenings when I'm on a particularly tight deadline and I put in the Do Not Disturb headphones. But most of the time, when my family is home, I'm actively engaged with them. We hang out while they do homework, I make supper while they do their chores, sometimes we'll watch tv together, I hang with the hubby when he gets home and we talk.
I love to write, but I love my family more. If someone held a gun to my head and said, "Choose." I wouldn't hesitate. My family brings me more joy than anything else. Would I miss writing? Absolutely, but not as much as I'd miss my family. When I'm deep in work mode, I remind myself that my kids' childhoods are whipping by. Do I want to crank out that next 1000 word right this minute or do I want to have fun with my kids while they're still interested in having fun with me? Fun wins. Are there days when they drive me nuts because I can't get anything done? Sure - they're kids and I'm a mom. It happens. Come to think of it, it happens with the hubby from time to time, too. But ultimately, I feel like we have a good system.
I also think that there's an unspoken life lesson here for my kids. Following your dreams and achieving them doesn't just magically happen. You have to be dedicated and work towards them, but you also have to make time for all the important aspects of your life.
Okay...on to the actual post:
It's no secret that the vast majority of writers love writing - I say vast majority, because at any given time, someone's having a love/hate relationship with it. Sometimes that someone is me. Writers write because they need to - it fulfills a deep seated need to create. Granted, most of us would like to be making money at writing, but the truth is, we'd write anyway. Although, I'll admit, Dakota makes a good point about piracy, the money we lose and considering packing it in because of it. But even if I chose not to write for publication anymore, I'd still write for me. Probably not at this current, frantic feeling pace, but I'd do it.
Because I'm lucky, the day job and the writing can be done from the comfort of my living room couch, often with the warmth of a catghan. (Thank you, Chris for that awesome word.) However, because both my writing schedule and the day job are so demanding, I'm on the computer all day and well into the evening. There's rarely a point where I say, "Okay, quitting time," and walk away. Someday, I hope to be far enough ahead of my schedule where I can do that.
But, that's not to say my family suffers. Of course, there are those evenings when I'm on a particularly tight deadline and I put in the Do Not Disturb headphones. But most of the time, when my family is home, I'm actively engaged with them. We hang out while they do homework, I make supper while they do their chores, sometimes we'll watch tv together, I hang with the hubby when he gets home and we talk.
I love to write, but I love my family more. If someone held a gun to my head and said, "Choose." I wouldn't hesitate. My family brings me more joy than anything else. Would I miss writing? Absolutely, but not as much as I'd miss my family. When I'm deep in work mode, I remind myself that my kids' childhoods are whipping by. Do I want to crank out that next 1000 word right this minute or do I want to have fun with my kids while they're still interested in having fun with me? Fun wins. Are there days when they drive me nuts because I can't get anything done? Sure - they're kids and I'm a mom. It happens. Come to think of it, it happens with the hubby from time to time, too. But ultimately, I feel like we have a good system.
I also think that there's an unspoken life lesson here for my kids. Following your dreams and achieving them doesn't just magically happen. You have to be dedicated and work towards them, but you also have to make time for all the important aspects of your life.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
I'd like to introduce you to my sister...aka Flypaper for Freaks
I'd like to introduce one of my favorite people in the whole wide world - my baby sister, Cait. I'm the oldest of five and she's the youngest and we've got three brothers in between. Anyway, Cait is not only the most freaking amazing sister I could have possibly asked for, she's also Flypaper For Freaks...just like me.
She had this encounter a few years ago before she left for college and I've been begging her to write it down, so you could all see that it's not just me. It really does run in the family.
So please welcome Cait~
My sister has a way of making me do things. Maybe it’s the Catholic guilt we’ve both maintained, or the fact that she is so completely awesome that I can deny her nothing. Either way, I’m doing her bidding.
When I was a teenager, I used to hang around this dingy little coffee shop in the downtown area. And I mean the bad part of downtown. People only ventured this way if they needed a fix of some kind. Gritty sidewalks filled with grittier people, the occasional needle lying on the curb, “emo” and “scene” kids loitering about wearing their skinny jeans and their hair covering what I assumed to be dark painted eyes. Morningstar 76 seemed a magical place where dreams come true.
Oh nay, nay, friends.
I was there one night, seated in a chair that I’m sure hadn’t seen a good day since the 1970s, reading a novel, and chain smoking. Looking back, I know blame this entire event on my pack of Basics.
She was blonde and had black, thick-framed glasses shielding her blue eyes. Pretty girl. Pretty crazy girl.
Her: What are you doing?
Me: (already irritated) Reading.
Her: No, your cigarettes. Basics are terrible. They’re just the tobacco and sawdust swept from the factory floor. You need a real cigarette.
She handed me a Camel Light and pulled out her lighter. I thanked her and went back to my book. Mistake number two. The first had been acknowledging her at all.
Her: Good book? I like to read, too. My boyfriend has a great collection.
Me: Very cool.
Her: Yeah, he is. He’s so open and expressive. I’m really lucky.
Me: Sounds like. (page turn) Congratulations.
Her: Yeah. We’re really good together. Super compatible, you know?
Me: Mmhmm.
Her: Even in bed. I know it’s not the most important thing, you know? But it does matter, right?
Me: Indeed. (I stubbed out the gifted cigarette and returned to my book.)
Her: He’s really submissive. You wouldn’t expect it from him. See? (She pulls out a photo of said boyfriend.)
I kid you not, this dude looked exactly like Spike from Buffy. No, really. He did. Promise. Hell, pinky swear. He just doesn’t look like the type, know what I’m saying?
Me: No. No, he doesn’t.
And you don’t look the dominatrix type, but I’m sure in your world of vanilla kink you’re a regular Mistress of Pain.
Her: He likes the whip the best. And when I ride him like a pony.
Me: (I whipped my head to face her. This woman had my complete and horrified attention.)
Her: I really like it, too, but the outfits are my favorite. Especially when I dress up to use the good whip.
Me: …Good whip?
For those of you playing the home version, this was mistake number three.
Her: Yeah. It’s a cat ‘o nine. But improved, you know? We bought little round glass beads and tied them to the ends so that he gets that extra sting. His scars are really sexy.
Me: … I bet.
Her: Totally. He asks for it, know what I’m saying?
No, frankly, I haven’t a clue.
Me: Yeah... sure.
Her: I like the knife best.
Me: Right… of course.
Her: Oh! (Excited Sadist Time!) Last night was the coolest thing ever – he asked me to carve my name into his skin. It was pretty intense.
Me: Did he? And… you did..?
By this time, I forgot I even had a book. Hell, I had forgotten where I was.
Her: Of course. He’s been such a good pony lately.
As if this explained it all.
Me: Uh huh.
Her: It bled a lot.
Me: Well, that can happen. It’s the downside of carving into someone’s flesh.
Her: But it healed rather nicely. Wanna see?
Me: Fwuh?
Her: (Whips out two Polaroid pictures of a carved up penis and lays them on the table.)
Me: I couldn’t look away. Could. Not. Look. Away.
By the by…her name is Wendy.
Her: Anyway, now he has my name on his dick for the rest of his life. (Nodding.) He’s like my property. …. So what are you reading?
Apparently, being flypaper for freaks is a family trait. Yesterday, my ex theatre prof approached me with his hand shoved deep into his pocket and asked me if “rashes are supposed to be bumpy”.
Wish I were kidding.
I'm not sure how one segues from penis pictures to what are you reading, but apparently Wendy was a special kinda crazy. Sadly, Morningstar 76 is no more, and luckily Cait's found better, Wendy-free hangouts.
She had this encounter a few years ago before she left for college and I've been begging her to write it down, so you could all see that it's not just me. It really does run in the family.
So please welcome Cait~
My sister has a way of making me do things. Maybe it’s the Catholic guilt we’ve both maintained, or the fact that she is so completely awesome that I can deny her nothing. Either way, I’m doing her bidding.
When I was a teenager, I used to hang around this dingy little coffee shop in the downtown area. And I mean the bad part of downtown. People only ventured this way if they needed a fix of some kind. Gritty sidewalks filled with grittier people, the occasional needle lying on the curb, “emo” and “scene” kids loitering about wearing their skinny jeans and their hair covering what I assumed to be dark painted eyes. Morningstar 76 seemed a magical place where dreams come true.
Oh nay, nay, friends.
I was there one night, seated in a chair that I’m sure hadn’t seen a good day since the 1970s, reading a novel, and chain smoking. Looking back, I know blame this entire event on my pack of Basics.
She was blonde and had black, thick-framed glasses shielding her blue eyes. Pretty girl. Pretty crazy girl.
Her: What are you doing?
Me: (already irritated) Reading.
Her: No, your cigarettes. Basics are terrible. They’re just the tobacco and sawdust swept from the factory floor. You need a real cigarette.
She handed me a Camel Light and pulled out her lighter. I thanked her and went back to my book. Mistake number two. The first had been acknowledging her at all.
Her: Good book? I like to read, too. My boyfriend has a great collection.
Me: Very cool.
Her: Yeah, he is. He’s so open and expressive. I’m really lucky.
Me: Sounds like. (page turn) Congratulations.
Her: Yeah. We’re really good together. Super compatible, you know?
Me: Mmhmm.
Her: Even in bed. I know it’s not the most important thing, you know? But it does matter, right?
Me: Indeed. (I stubbed out the gifted cigarette and returned to my book.)
Her: He’s really submissive. You wouldn’t expect it from him. See? (She pulls out a photo of said boyfriend.)
I kid you not, this dude looked exactly like Spike from Buffy. No, really. He did. Promise. Hell, pinky swear. He just doesn’t look like the type, know what I’m saying?
Me: No. No, he doesn’t.
And you don’t look the dominatrix type, but I’m sure in your world of vanilla kink you’re a regular Mistress of Pain.
Her: He likes the whip the best. And when I ride him like a pony.
Me: (I whipped my head to face her. This woman had my complete and horrified attention.)
Her: I really like it, too, but the outfits are my favorite. Especially when I dress up to use the good whip.
Me: …Good whip?
For those of you playing the home version, this was mistake number three.
Her: Yeah. It’s a cat ‘o nine. But improved, you know? We bought little round glass beads and tied them to the ends so that he gets that extra sting. His scars are really sexy.
Me: … I bet.
Her: Totally. He asks for it, know what I’m saying?
No, frankly, I haven’t a clue.
Me: Yeah... sure.
Her: I like the knife best.
Me: Right… of course.
Her: Oh! (Excited Sadist Time!) Last night was the coolest thing ever – he asked me to carve my name into his skin. It was pretty intense.
Me: Did he? And… you did..?
By this time, I forgot I even had a book. Hell, I had forgotten where I was.
Her: Of course. He’s been such a good pony lately.
As if this explained it all.
Me: Uh huh.
Her: It bled a lot.
Me: Well, that can happen. It’s the downside of carving into someone’s flesh.
Her: But it healed rather nicely. Wanna see?
Me: Fwuh?
Her: (Whips out two Polaroid pictures of a carved up penis and lays them on the table.)
Me: I couldn’t look away. Could. Not. Look. Away.
By the by…her name is Wendy.
Her: Anyway, now he has my name on his dick for the rest of his life. (Nodding.) He’s like my property. …. So what are you reading?
Apparently, being flypaper for freaks is a family trait. Yesterday, my ex theatre prof approached me with his hand shoved deep into his pocket and asked me if “rashes are supposed to be bumpy”.
Wish I were kidding.
I'm not sure how one segues from penis pictures to what are you reading, but apparently Wendy was a special kinda crazy. Sadly, Morningstar 76 is no more, and luckily Cait's found better, Wendy-free hangouts.
Monday, February 8, 2010
So, my husband...
We were both laying in bed reading the other night - I was reading Shiver by
Maggie Stiefvater
and Matt was reading one of the Dresden Files books by Jim Butcher. I was nearing the end of this amazing book and crying because it's absolutely gut-wrenching - beautiful, painful and uplifting. For those who won't read a book with a sad ending, this ends well - and it's about shape shifters.
But anyway, I was reading...and crying...like you do and Matt, never looking up from his book, hands me a tissue and says, "I thought you'd vowed to never read a Nicolas Sparks book."
I stared at him for a minute after blowing my nose and told him to fuck off. It seemed like the only reasonable response at that point - but I couldn't help but laugh. Honestly...like I'd read an N.S. book - no offense, Mr. Sparks, but there's more than enough depressing in the world. Thank goodness I have Matt around to make me giggle.
Maggie Stiefvater and Matt was reading one of the Dresden Files books by Jim Butcher. I was nearing the end of this amazing book and crying because it's absolutely gut-wrenching - beautiful, painful and uplifting. For those who won't read a book with a sad ending, this ends well - and it's about shape shifters.
But anyway, I was reading...and crying...like you do and Matt, never looking up from his book, hands me a tissue and says, "I thought you'd vowed to never read a Nicolas Sparks book."
I stared at him for a minute after blowing my nose and told him to fuck off. It seemed like the only reasonable response at that point - but I couldn't help but laugh. Honestly...like I'd read an N.S. book - no offense, Mr. Sparks, but there's more than enough depressing in the world. Thank goodness I have Matt around to make me giggle.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
My day job is trying to suck my soul.
I'm having one of those weeks. It's one of those never ending projects that I can't seem to make headway on no matter how hard I try. Of course, it also could be that I'm procrastinating.
I need to preface the following conversation by explaining that I hate housework. I also hate to cook. I not only hate it, but I suck at it. My family has adjusted to the fact that the house is a bit chaotic and supper will never be elaborate and lovely because I'm so not that person. I always have books going as well as the day job and I'd rather hang with the fam at night than clean.
So anyway, my husband came home the other day and looked around in surprise.
Matt: Wow...it looks really nice in here.
Me: Thanks.
Matt: No really. It looks great.
Me: Thanks.
Matt: And supper smells really good, too.
Me: Thanks, honey.
(long, dead silence)
Matt: You must really hate that project.
That man knows me sooooooooo well.
Over at Writers Evolution we've been talking about writers' conferences and I've posted some DOs and DON'Ts. Yes. . . some of them are from personal experience. Think of me as a walking talking PSA.
I need to preface the following conversation by explaining that I hate housework. I also hate to cook. I not only hate it, but I suck at it. My family has adjusted to the fact that the house is a bit chaotic and supper will never be elaborate and lovely because I'm so not that person. I always have books going as well as the day job and I'd rather hang with the fam at night than clean.
So anyway, my husband came home the other day and looked around in surprise.
Matt: Wow...it looks really nice in here.
Me: Thanks.
Matt: No really. It looks great.
Me: Thanks.
Matt: And supper smells really good, too.
Me: Thanks, honey.
(long, dead silence)
Matt: You must really hate that project.
That man knows me sooooooooo well.
Over at Writers Evolution we've been talking about writers' conferences and I've posted some DOs and DON'Ts. Yes. . . some of them are from personal experience. Think of me as a walking talking PSA.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Begone, January! Begone!
I've been a bad blogger this week - mostly because I've felt like crap, and I've been trying to keep up with my day job. I've had a rotten kidney infection since last Friday night, and I got in a lovely car accident on Thursday.
A (very nice) lady pulled out in front of me because apparently I was in her blind spot. Unfortunately, it was icy as hell, and I couldn't stop. Thankfully, I didn't have my kids with me, and neither one of us was badly hurt. I'm sore, and my car is out of commission for at least a week, but it could have been so much worse. The car is fixable, and she got the ticket. And I got a free loaner car even though it's not part of my insurance. (I think the body shop guy just felt sorry for me.) See? I'm trying to find the positive.
I've been trying to find the positive all month long, but mostly there's been a lot of stress, and I'm ready for it to go away. Usually, I like January - it's a new beginning. Everything seems fresh and clean. Anything seems possible. February, on the other hand, usually sucks ass and is the most miserable month of the year.
But, back to January...I can't think of a single person that I know who's had a great month. Sickness, job difficulties, surprise surgeries, deaths of loved ones, the list goes on. In retrospect, I feel pretty lucky - my kidneys will eventually like me again and Squishy (my car) will get fixed. I'm trying to be all zen about it. I'm also hoping that maybe this year, February and January are just switching places, and just maybe we've gotten all the crap out of the way for the rest of the year. I'm gonna go with that.
In the meanwhile, I think I might read a book. Not one that needs to be edited - or one that I need to work on in any way. In fact, I think it might even be completely devoid of sex. Gasp! If you're looking for a great book to read, head over to Writer's Evolution where we've been talking about reading outside our genres. I've list some of my all time faves, and I'd love to know what you're favorites are. Despite my limited time, I'm always looking for a good book.
A (very nice) lady pulled out in front of me because apparently I was in her blind spot. Unfortunately, it was icy as hell, and I couldn't stop. Thankfully, I didn't have my kids with me, and neither one of us was badly hurt. I'm sore, and my car is out of commission for at least a week, but it could have been so much worse. The car is fixable, and she got the ticket. And I got a free loaner car even though it's not part of my insurance. (I think the body shop guy just felt sorry for me.) See? I'm trying to find the positive.
I've been trying to find the positive all month long, but mostly there's been a lot of stress, and I'm ready for it to go away. Usually, I like January - it's a new beginning. Everything seems fresh and clean. Anything seems possible. February, on the other hand, usually sucks ass and is the most miserable month of the year.
But, back to January...I can't think of a single person that I know who's had a great month. Sickness, job difficulties, surprise surgeries, deaths of loved ones, the list goes on. In retrospect, I feel pretty lucky - my kidneys will eventually like me again and Squishy (my car) will get fixed. I'm trying to be all zen about it. I'm also hoping that maybe this year, February and January are just switching places, and just maybe we've gotten all the crap out of the way for the rest of the year. I'm gonna go with that.
In the meanwhile, I think I might read a book. Not one that needs to be edited - or one that I need to work on in any way. In fact, I think it might even be completely devoid of sex. Gasp! If you're looking for a great book to read, head over to Writer's Evolution where we've been talking about reading outside our genres. I've list some of my all time faves, and I'd love to know what you're favorites are. Despite my limited time, I'm always looking for a good book.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Look What Kris Norris Made For Me!
It's great to have friends who are infinitely more clever than you are. Case in point: this awesome book trailer that Kris Norris made for me. Thank you so much, Kris! be sure to pop over to her blog and check out her wonderful trailers, too!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
An Open Letter to an Author and Cute Kitties
This week over at Writers Evolution, we've been talking about advice to new authors, I've written an open letter. Feel free to go take a peek and add your own advice.
I can't believe how big Willow and Morrighan are getting. Willow's lounging on her sister's belly and they're both hogging the couch. Wenches.
Don't ask me how, but Willow keeps crawling in this drink holder. My kids insist we can't get rid of it because she enjoys it so much. Spoiled kitten...
This is my youngest, Corwin. He's currently grounded from all electronic entertainment due to some unfortunate homework drama. (I have the kid who does his homework...he just doesn't turn it in. Actually, that's mostly in English class. GRRRRR) But anyway, he pulled out the chess set, and Willow decided to join him for a game this afternoon.
I can't believe how big Willow and Morrighan are getting. Willow's lounging on her sister's belly and they're both hogging the couch. Wenches.
Don't ask me how, but Willow keeps crawling in this drink holder. My kids insist we can't get rid of it because she enjoys it so much. Spoiled kitten...
This is my youngest, Corwin. He's currently grounded from all electronic entertainment due to some unfortunate homework drama. (I have the kid who does his homework...he just doesn't turn it in. Actually, that's mostly in English class. GRRRRR) But anyway, he pulled out the chess set, and Willow decided to join him for a game this afternoon.
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