Try some; it's good.
Wherein I ramble about books, movies,
music, TV shows, my life, and occasionally, hot emo boys.
My Books
Current WiP
My ValentineGuide sequel = DONE
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Monday, October 29, 2007
Vacation's all I ever wanted...
Vacation
All I ever wanted
Vacation
Had to get away
Vacation
The blog's on hiatus this week since my progeny are out for fall break. I need to unplug from the Internet and spend some time with my kids. And finish this book!
When I return, I'll be refreshed and My Valentine will be complete. Try not to miss me too much.
Labels: vacation
Friday, October 26, 2007
Just a taste.
I'm sending you off into the weekend with something to leave you hungry for more. Want to know what I've been working on? Let me wet your whistle.
Here's a taste of My Valentine:
You like? It seems even more bittersweet because they do not, in fact, have years. They have merely days.
Here's a taste of My Valentine:
Beatrice opened her chamber door to find him waiting with an impatient look. After slipping inside and bolting the door behind him, he kissed her with a helpless need that left her breathless. If he didn’t want her, he had missed his calling on the stage.
“Long day,” he said when they came up for air. “Not unpleasant, but long. I missed you.”
She fought the smile that revealed her feelings too clearly. “Did you?”
“You know I did.” His arms came around her fully and he buried his face in her hair. Beatrice felt him breathing in her scent and felt glad she’d asked her maid to add a few drops of lavender oil to her bath, hours ago now. “You smell like heaven.”
She was new enough to the business of having a lover that her cheeks heated. Since he’d won her already, he didn’t need to ply her with sweet words. Turning her cheek against the soft lawn of his nightshirt, she could only appreciate his finesse.
“What would a man like you know about heaven?” The words were meant in a coquettish manner, but she’d never mastered the inflection. Instead they sounded vaguely accusing, the last thing she wanted. She didn’t wish to argue with him on their first night together, not when it would set the tone for what came after.
“Not much,” he said quietly. “Just the time I spend with you.”
As always, he humbled her with his candor. She was not used to men who spoke their minds. She had lived her life in the company of people who thought honesty ought to be avoided, truth best cloaked in inconsequential words.
She inhaled sharply and then let her breath out in an aching sigh. “You are too good to be true.”
Things that appeared so usually were. But Beatrice could not bring herself to break things off between them for fear of consequences or future pain. She wanted to live as she had so rarely done -- in the moment.
A haunted look crept across his face. “Hardly.”
Tonight she wouldn’t think about his secrets, or the fact that this affair was likely doomed to end badly. Beatrice wanted him in her bed. Wanted to see his face beside hers on the pillow, and know she could keep him until the first fingers of dawn stole over the windowsill. Then he would need to creep back to his own bed, a necessity that would likely chafe his pride.
How long could he bear to live like this? How long before she awoke to find him gone? None of her doubt showed in her smile as she tugged on his hand.
“Come to bed,” she said. “I would feel you close ere I sleep.”
His fingers wound around hers, warm and fast. “Only that?”
The implication shamed her. She found it hard to speak through a suddenly clotted throat, for she did not want to be yet another of his society ladies who made him feel like a thing to be used. And surely she should feel ashamed of the lambent heat that stirred like a gentle iron taken to a dying fire.
She wanted him; she could not deny that. And yet she did not like to admit it.
Instead she climbed up onto the bed and then pulled the bed curtains.
“If you wish,” she managed to say as she climbed beneath the light coverlet.
The window beyond stood slightly ajar, permitting the assorted scents of a spring night to filter through. In the shaded dark, he seemed more sensual ghost than man, a dream lover come to steal her good sense and possibly her soul as well. Not for the first time, Beatrice thought he was truly too beautiful to be real.
He lay down beside her in her husband’s place, though James had never shared this bed, never slept at Granville House. Because he did not immediately touch her, she knew something was wrong. Ren had seemed pleased to greet her at the door, so she must have erred in some fashion.
“I am your servant,” he said at last. “Does it matter what I wish?”
So that was bothering him again. His pride chafed at taking his living from her coffers, even if it provided the only solution to their mutual desire.
“Yes. If you don’t want to…” Her voice faltered. “Be with me. Tonight or any other, then return to your quarters. I do not command you to…service me, as if you were a horse I put to pasture with a mare.” Beatrice hesitated, and then the next words slipped out beyond volition. “I thought you wanted me.”
Stupid, she was so stupid. Now that he had a position in her household, teaching her daughter -- what in the world possessed her to do such a thing, putting Mattie at risk for such an infatuation -- he would break things off. It made perfect sense. Since her daughter had taken such a liking to him, she could hardly fire him, but she could warn the butler to watch their new tutor very closely--
“I do,” he breathed then. “So much it scares the hell out of me. Because now, for the first time in years, I have something to lose. I want to make love to you like they do in fairy tales, Triss. And I’m afraid I don’t know how.” He barked out a laugh that was somehow devoid of humor. “Absurd, isn’t it? I’ve been with so many women, but I don’t know think I know anything at all about being with someone like you.”
The knot eased out of her chest. Dear God, she might be falling in love with him. Each word he spoke nudged her a little closer to the brink, and it felt like dying, so much dread and uncertainty tethered to the tenuous hope that beyond the pain might lie something beautiful and bright.
“Just kiss me,” she whispered. “We have years to sort the rest out.”
Then he rolled toward her with a muffled moan, arms reaching for her. His heat seared through the thin fabric of their nightclothes. She wanted to learn the lines of his face as a woman who never saw so clearly with her eyes, wanted to trace his features with a potter’s fingers. There was such artistry in his making, even if he had no hand in it.
His mouth took hers in quiet demand, not fierce, but knowing. He nuzzled, nibbled, and toyed with her lips until she gasped. She’d never known such wickedly lovely kisses existed, sweet and sinful, the way he tasted her.
Beatrice couldn’t resist touching her tongue to his, an unintentional tease. He made a sound in his throat and rolled, drawing her on top of him.
You like? It seems even more bittersweet because they do not, in fact, have years. They have merely days.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
T13
1. Care. Don't underestimate the power of people reaching out to other people. You have blog friends, right? People you check up on now and again. If they posted something that struck you as sort of sad or blue, would you email them? Have you ever? Maybe you think you don't know them well enough, or they won't answer.
Well, I've emailed people I didn't know well. Offered my ear if they needed it. Sometimes I get ignored. I figure they've got their support bases covered, and that's all right with me. But imagine what that email would mean to someone who did need to hear somebody was listening?
2. Stand for something. "A man who stands for nothing, will fall for anything." Strong words, right? You know who said them? Malcolm X.
What do you stand for? What are you passionate about? Injustice? Battered women? Starving children? Wars that make the rich richer and tear a country all to hell that's already bleeding from so many wounds and so much loss that it could break a body's heart?
When I was a teenager, I thought it was cool to be uncaring. Blasé. Nothing moved me; I was the ice woman. I could've looked death itself in the eye and said "Fuck you."
Not anymore. These days, I don't want to be around people who care for nothing. Who look away when they see wrongdoing or pretend it doesn't exist. Or doesn't matter because it doesn't apply to them.
I care. But not about being cool.
3. Give back. What do you do for your community? How do you spend your time? No matter how bad off you are, there's almost always somebody who's got it worse. We could all do more, but we don't.
I spent time one summer, living in a homeless mission when I was fourteen. Not because I was homeless but because it was considered a good learning experience. I cooked, I ladled soup, broke bread, cleaned, chewed the fat, and played checkers with men that society had thrown away. I learned from them, even though people would tell you they have nothing worth giving because it can't be weighed or measured. All they had were their stories, but I fucking treasured them.
4. Listen. How often are you really there in a conversation? All the time? Can you say that? Or are you just sitting through their talk-y stuff so you can start rattling again? Are you engaged or just playing the part?
If we don't step outside ourselves and really listen to other people, just put aside our own shit completely, understanding that we will have our time and this is not it, what kind of friends are we? Spouses? Parents? Listening is a dying art.
If everyone truly listened with an open mind, how many arguments would be avoided? But people listen with filters and assumptions and preconceptions. Conclusions are jumped (and they don't like that, let me tell you). Makes 'em right cranky.
I've had friends who didn't have time to be there for me. Not to listen, or whatever I needed. I'm not a needy person. I'm not shouting for emotional support 24/7. But you bet there's a reason why I said "had" friends. Past tense. When people are important to me, I drop everything and spring into action, if they tell me they need me or need to talk. I am there, 100% in the moment.
For someone not to give that back, well, that's like a dropkick in the face. And you can bet I don't give them the chance to let me down again. This ain't baseball, people. Friendship is way more than that, and you just don't let down the ones you care about when they say, "I need you."
When people tell me they're too busy to listen to me or help me when I need it, you know what I hear? "I'm too busy for YOU." People make time for the things that are most important to them. And if I don't make the cut on their list, they sure as shit aren't staying on mine.
5. Don't Assume. We think somebody can't tell us anything new. It's just another old person, or just another Christian or just another...whatever. We've heard all their tired ol' crap before, same song and dance, right?
But how do you know? Can you be sure? If two people in dress clothes come to your door with pamphlets, do you slam the door in their faces without hearing a word? It has to be the Jehovah's Witnesses, so who wants to listen to their crazy asses when people have shit to do?
And maybe 9 times out of 10 it is. Maybe even 99 times out of a 100. But what if that 100th time, it was somebody raising money for literacy. They wanted to show you some statistics on the declining reading levels. When people start slamming doors, it just gets easier and easier, both physically and mentally. New ideas get shut out.
6. Be a philanthropist. I understand, people can't give millions of dollars and get hospital wings named after them. But small donations add up too. If the average person gave $20 a year to their charity of choice, you know how that would add up?
No, you don't get plaques or trophies or your name in lights. But that's not the point. The point is making the world a better place, a place we can be proud to live in.
I donated a book to Equality Now. All proceeds go directly to Amanda Sullivan -- the check gets cut in her name. Whether that's $20 or thousands of dollars, I'm trying to make a difference. Stone Maiden is a particularly appropriate book. Here's what a fan said about the heroine:
Muir: Her quiet strength, loyalty, willingness to sacrifice and absolute faith make her a wonderful heroine. Watching her develop and grow from being totally subservient until she is, for all intents and purposes, the most powerful and important person in two societies, is a beautifully told story. I love the way you portrayed her transition from being a totally subservient woman to one who is powerful and in control yet chooses to give and sacrifice without diminishing her strength and power in any way. She is a remarkable character.
Amanda Sullivan wrote:
"Thank you very much for your support of Equality Now. We are touched that you have chosen to support us in this way, through your work."
And that's enough for me.
7. Be positive. Stay away from people who put you down and don't believe you can succeed.
I believe in sisterhood.
I'd like to see the day when women celebrate each other's achievements and care about each other in a way that doesn't include talking about how fat somebody is, or what a whore she is, or stupid, or untalented, or whatever. I'm talking about personal attacks, mind you. Not whether I like Sally's new book. A book is not a person, no matter what some artsy-fartsy may say about having poured her soul into the thing. Unless she used wormwood, baby blood, and black candles made from the fat of a slaughtered virgin lamb, there ain't no soul inside a book.
And no, you don't want to know how I know that.
Womanhood could be biggest and best club that anybody could belong to, but instead we want to break it down into cliques and go around chattering like we were fifteen again and none too bright. You know what? It's foolishness.
I understand people don't get along, the world is not all rainbows, puppies, and butterfly kisses, but sometimes lines need to be drawn. Why not avoid the people that rub you the wrong way?
I believe in turning the other cheek. Not my face, mind you. I'm not opening myself up to be slapped, if they were dumb enough to do me like that. That'd be my butt cheek, thank you, and if people don't like my message, they can kiss my ass while I walk away.
8. Don't complain. My favorite quote in the whole world expands on this: "If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude. Don't complain." —Maya Angelou
She's such a wise woman and a great speaker. I don't know what else I can add to this. But I'll try. All the belly-aching in the world never changed anything. If you don't know what to do to make the change you want happen, then you need to figure it out. Because bitching in emails, on the Internet, to your friends, to your preacher, ain't gonna get you nothing but a sore throat and maybe sore fingers.
The woman who complains about her no-good husband all day long never gets shit done until she packs her bag and calls a cab.
Don't talk, act.
And if you feel like you're fucked, no matter what you do, hold your head high and remember, "This too shall pass." Sometimes it's not much comfort I know, but life is constantly evolving. And what seems hopeless today may look brighter tomorrow. All you can do is hold your head up and behave in a way that makes you feel proud of the way you're bearing your own personal load.
I used to envy other people. Wonder why this or that was so easy for them. But I eventually figured out I can't walk anyone's road but mine.
9. Smile. This may sound lame to you, but I've found, if you make yourself, even when you're dying on the inside, things feel a little lighter. People smile back. You stop feeling so alone.
There's some truth in the whole "fake it til you make it" saying. I've come to decide that happiness is more a choice than a butterfly that comes to light magically on your shoulder at its own whim.
Some people could be happy if they had one leg, no shoes, and a walking stick. And some people would complain if they had a bag of gold... cos it was too damn heavy.
I'm not Mary Poppins. I get in shitty moods like anybody else where I'd like to give a priest a finger and ask him why is the world like this if there's really a god who gives a shit about us? But I don't let those moods move in and stay anymore. I make 'em move on by pushing that shit out of my head. And I smile.
10. Love yourself. Fat, thin, black, white, straight, gay, bi, Jewish, Buddhist, whatever. Love what you are, as you are. Because if you have any self-hatred going on, you're gonna transfer that shit to the people who also display the traits you secretly hate about yourself.
Accept yourself 100%, as you are, no wishing you could have smaller hips or bigger tits or shinier hair or whiter teeth. No wishing you could sing or dance, or had a rich daddy. People who do that have a much easier time in taking other people as they come, easy-peasy.
11. Recycle. This is self-explanatory. We are ruining the world we live in, but it's not too late. We can live green and try to reverse the damage we've done. If we care. If we try.
12. Pay it forward. Perpetrate random acts of kindness. Hold the door for someone. Give the guy in line ahead of you that penny he's scrounging for. Smile and say, "Hi, how are you?" to someone you don't know.
When was the last time you did something nice for somebody, just because? Not a family member, either. Just a random person. Can you name the last time? What was it?
13. Keep an open mind. People who stop trying new things, new ideas, well, they stagnate. You know that grouchy old bastard who mumbles about "kids today" and their wild music, and stopped watching TV when Dragnet went off the air? You don't want to wind up that way.
Listen to world music, learn about a new culture, take belly-dancing lessons, learn Russian. Never, ever stop trying to expand your horizons, or one day you may find your world has shrunk to four walls and a roommate who pisses himself.
I'm not saying you won't wind up in a home someday anyway, but at least you'll be the coolest motherfucker up in there, what with your Thai cooking, your tai-chi, belly-dancing, Russian speaking, geriatric ass.
I'm gonna leave y'all with my favorite poem now (about how we lose the "living" in the day-to-day business of our lives) because I've bared my soul tonight, and frankly, I'm feelin' a little emo.
When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple
with a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
and satin candles, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired
and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
and run my stick along the public railings
and make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
and pick the flowers in other people's gardens
and learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
and eat three pounds of sausages at a go
or only bread and pickles for a week
and hoard pens and pencils and beer nuts and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
and pay our rent and not swear in the street
and set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
Peace.
Labels: Thursday 13
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
About a time when a blogger wrote an article about slander vs libel and fact vs opinion. In that article, she used an example about a particular person without naming names. This was intended, I believe, as an example of opinion not being actionable, but it came across as a poke.
Now, people who feel poked, often will poke back. Sometimes, in fact, they go for the bitch-slap. It depends on the person, what they do. People of placid temperament might even say "whatever" and go about their business. People of an irascible nature might light up the Internet like Christmas, Hanukkah, New Year and the 4th of July rolled into one.
Now I could've said all this over all Dear Author, but sometimes when I have a particularly long and rambling point to make, I feel like I need to take my nonsense on home and stash it on my own blog. So I'm doing that.
I need to make a break away from all the crap that's been said. I don't want this post tainted by any of that. Because the fact is, too much shit was said there that ought have been kept quiet, or better yet, never thought at all. Lots of feelings were hurt, I'm sure, and I've only seen a couple of "I'm sorries."
To be honest, I'm not even a practicing Christian, but people forgot a couple of key points over there. Religion aside, that whole Golden Rule thing? They're onto something with that. And I've never wished I haven't been nice to somebody, you know? You might regret sharp words that you can't take back, but you never regret a kindness. At least, I don't. Good deeds are not pennies I have to hoard, and being good comes back to you.
Now I know I sound like motherfuckin' Snow White on E, but whatever. I'm not ashamed of having a warm heart. And I'm not ashamed of thinking the best of people, even when I'm proved wrong. You see, that's on them. Not me.
So I try to judge people on an individual basis. What they do. Character will out. And I don't care how bad you are at math -- two wrongs never make a right.
Change comes from accepting each other and trying to find the ways we're alike, not the ways we're different. Black, brown, pink, tan, coffee, cocoa, bisque, Bailey's Irish cream, we are all human beings. We share this world, and we're on our way to destroying that too because people would rather drive their SUVs and die for oil.
Think about that when you're squabbling on the Internet, won't you?
We are ALL human.
And I'm out.
Now, people who feel poked, often will poke back. Sometimes, in fact, they go for the bitch-slap. It depends on the person, what they do. People of placid temperament might even say "whatever" and go about their business. People of an irascible nature might light up the Internet like Christmas, Hanukkah, New Year and the 4th of July rolled into one.
Now I could've said all this over all Dear Author, but sometimes when I have a particularly long and rambling point to make, I feel like I need to take my nonsense on home and stash it on my own blog. So I'm doing that.
I need to make a break away from all the crap that's been said. I don't want this post tainted by any of that. Because the fact is, too much shit was said there that ought have been kept quiet, or better yet, never thought at all. Lots of feelings were hurt, I'm sure, and I've only seen a couple of "I'm sorries."
To be honest, I'm not even a practicing Christian, but people forgot a couple of key points over there. Religion aside, that whole Golden Rule thing? They're onto something with that. And I've never wished I haven't been nice to somebody, you know? You might regret sharp words that you can't take back, but you never regret a kindness. At least, I don't. Good deeds are not pennies I have to hoard, and being good comes back to you.
Now I know I sound like motherfuckin' Snow White on E, but whatever. I'm not ashamed of having a warm heart. And I'm not ashamed of thinking the best of people, even when I'm proved wrong. You see, that's on them. Not me.
So I try to judge people on an individual basis. What they do. Character will out. And I don't care how bad you are at math -- two wrongs never make a right.
Change comes from accepting each other and trying to find the ways we're alike, not the ways we're different. Black, brown, pink, tan, coffee, cocoa, bisque, Bailey's Irish cream, we are all human beings. We share this world, and we're on our way to destroying that too because people would rather drive their SUVs and die for oil.
Think about that when you're squabbling on the Internet, won't you?
We are ALL human.
And I'm out.
Monday, October 22, 2007
My So-called (Glamorous) Life
I know you're all agog to hear what I did on Saturday. No, really, I can hear you gogging all the way in Mexico. You might want to get that checked. You sound like a St. Bernard choking on a chicken bone.
Anyway, as for my Saturday? Well, I downloaded Mask of the Betrayer, which is an official expansion for Neverwinter Nights 2. And I pretty much played it all damn day with the occasional breaks for meals, walking around, and bathroom time. I did this in an awesome flannel nightgown, by the way, because it was chilly. Don't worry, I didn't totally grunge out. I showered in the morning!
I'm a geek. I love video games. I pretty much play them only on weekends or I wouldn't get anything done during the week (which is sometimes okay), but not when I have a project in progress. My favorite games have been by Obsidian and Black Isle.
I'm not a fan of console games because they tend to be twitchier than I like. I'm into the computer RPGs, especially those that have a romantic subplot. Bingo! There's the tie-in. You'd be surprised what a good job some of these game designers do in crafting dialog for a relationship, and your answer impacts the tone of your developing relationship. Certainly responses win you points with your man of choice, others discourage him, and still others can stop the whole thing dead. Sometimes they adopt a PC game, like the KotOR ones, or Jade Empire, and that works out great. I loved chilling on my couch while working through the Jade Empire storyline.
I used to play MMOGs, but it's a huge time waster for someone who gets drawn into things like I do. Suddenly nothing is more important than getting online so I can attend this raid so I have a chance to get the Uber-Awesome Sword of Head Chopping. Cos everyone who is cool in game has one, and I don't. Plus it's sparkly! So I quit that, and I think I've grown out of that phase in my gaming. I don't crave loot anymore.
But I do love the combination of action, puzzle-solving, and hint of romance that the best games offer these days. I prefer single-player ones because I can pick up where I left off, anytime, and the pause button is magical. I would like to think my books offer the same addictive experience, but we won't know for sure until February.
Sunday I was a little better. We went out for brunch, and then I worked. I limited myself to a couple hours in the game, and spent the rest of the time with my family.
Off to do my pages!
Anyway, as for my Saturday? Well, I downloaded Mask of the Betrayer, which is an official expansion for Neverwinter Nights 2. And I pretty much played it all damn day with the occasional breaks for meals, walking around, and bathroom time. I did this in an awesome flannel nightgown, by the way, because it was chilly. Don't worry, I didn't totally grunge out. I showered in the morning!
I'm a geek. I love video games. I pretty much play them only on weekends or I wouldn't get anything done during the week (which is sometimes okay), but not when I have a project in progress. My favorite games have been by Obsidian and Black Isle.
I'm not a fan of console games because they tend to be twitchier than I like. I'm into the computer RPGs, especially those that have a romantic subplot. Bingo! There's the tie-in. You'd be surprised what a good job some of these game designers do in crafting dialog for a relationship, and your answer impacts the tone of your developing relationship. Certainly responses win you points with your man of choice, others discourage him, and still others can stop the whole thing dead. Sometimes they adopt a PC game, like the KotOR ones, or Jade Empire, and that works out great. I loved chilling on my couch while working through the Jade Empire storyline.
I used to play MMOGs, but it's a huge time waster for someone who gets drawn into things like I do. Suddenly nothing is more important than getting online so I can attend this raid so I have a chance to get the Uber-Awesome Sword of Head Chopping. Cos everyone who is cool in game has one, and I don't. Plus it's sparkly! So I quit that, and I think I've grown out of that phase in my gaming. I don't crave loot anymore.
But I do love the combination of action, puzzle-solving, and hint of romance that the best games offer these days. I prefer single-player ones because I can pick up where I left off, anytime, and the pause button is magical. I would like to think my books offer the same addictive experience, but we won't know for sure until February.
Sunday I was a little better. We went out for brunch, and then I worked. I limited myself to a couple hours in the game, and spent the rest of the time with my family.
Off to do my pages!
Friday, October 19, 2007
Short post
Hey everyone, today's post will be short. Why?
Well, I need to get my word count in, for one thing. My lack of motivation on my WIP is a thing of the past. I was having a hard time with it because it wasn't different enough. I love writing books that push the boundaries and aren't going to be the same as everything else you find out there. Well, My Valentine didn't qualify. Until now. I've revamped it, and it's now a paranormal interracial erotic romance. This book kicks ass and takes names.
Check out this blurb:
Y'all are gonna love it. I sent an excerpt to Dee, my BFF, to see if I was on the right track, and she said, "That's beautiful."
No excerpts for you, though. I'll do that another day, when I have cover art to show you.
So I have a book to write, and later I'm taking my kids (who are out of school today) to see The Dark is Rising.
For now, go read this interview. It's the first one I've done, so tell me the truth. How'd I do? Was it interesting? What do you think?
Well, I need to get my word count in, for one thing. My lack of motivation on my WIP is a thing of the past. I was having a hard time with it because it wasn't different enough. I love writing books that push the boundaries and aren't going to be the same as everything else you find out there. Well, My Valentine didn't qualify. Until now. I've revamped it, and it's now a paranormal interracial erotic romance. This book kicks ass and takes names.
Check out this blurb:
Then…
Once upon a time, a lady named Beatrice loved a dissolute lord, who gave her a child and never knew. They shared a brief, magical affair that ended at swordpoint. And on Valentine's Day, after watching the man she adored (and then betrayed) breathe his last, she died for their love.
Now…
Darnell Valentine used to be a geek. His life is pretty good these days, other than the odd déjà vu and the occasional sense he's been there and done that. He has just one significant problem -- he's been in love with Maya Hanoush forever. And she won't give him the time of day.
But he has a funny feeling time is running out, so this year, he'll claim Maya as his own. He somehow sees the way things should be, instead of as they are. Can a beta go alpha and teach his woman she can trust him with her very soul this time around? Only if they put the past behind them for good.
Maya Hanoush has no trouble getting men, but she can't keep them. For reasons she doesn't even understand, she keeps Darnell at arm's length. Though they've been friends since childhood, she always feared taking the next step with him.
Lately, she's been having crazy dreams and flashes of things she shouldn't remember, things that never happened. She might just be losing her mind.
Ancient secrets, treachery, longing and despair lie between them, unresolved, unseen, and unsung, adding to the weight of a secret shame Maya guards like a junkyard dog.
But if she doesn't put the pieces together in time, she'll lose him forever. Again.
Y'all are gonna love it. I sent an excerpt to Dee, my BFF, to see if I was on the right track, and she said, "That's beautiful."
No excerpts for you, though. I'll do that another day, when I have cover art to show you.
So I have a book to write, and later I'm taking my kids (who are out of school today) to see The Dark is Rising.
For now, go read this interview. It's the first one I've done, so tell me the truth. How'd I do? Was it interesting? What do you think?
Thursday, October 18, 2007
T13
Before you condemn me for this list, I present the following article. Can you imagine America's commander in chief enjoying this kind of humor? Why, it's a US tradition! One that goes back a long way, apparently.
Anyhow, enjoy the jokes.
1. One day a lady went into a fishing shop to buy her husband a fishing pole for his birthday.
She picked up a really nice looking pole and asked the salesman how much it was. The salesman says, "I'm blind but if you give me the pole I can tell how much it is by the weight."
So the lady gives him the pole and he says, "That pole is worth $45." She's amazed at how cheap that is.
So then she picks up another really nice pole, hands it to the man and he says, "This pole is worth $55." She decides that's also really cheap, so maybe she can afford the best in the store.
Next she picks the nicest looking pole in the place and hands it to the man and he says, "This pole is our best and it is $70."
She tells him she'll take it.
As she's getting the pole rung up, she has to fart really, really bad. She decides since the man's blind and can't ID her, it doesn't matter if she farts in front of him so she just lets loose.
All of a sudden the man says, "Your total is $80."
Confused, the lady says to him, "But you said the fishing pole was only $70."
He answers, "It is. It's $70 for the fishing pole and $10 for the duck call."
2. 2 Blokes (Japanese and American) are playing golf. The Japanese guy is getting ready to tee off and suddenly starts talking to his thumb.
American bloke says: "What you doin?"
"Oh, don't worry, with Microtechnology I had a Microphone inserted in my thumb. I was just recording a message."
The 2 men carry on golfing, but all of a sudden the American man makes a funny sound, that amazingly sounds like a fart. The Japanese man looks over at him. 'Oh,' says the American. "Don't worry, I'm just receiving a fax."
3. A guy sits in front of TV all day, farting like there's no tomorrow. The wife, understandably is angry as fuck, and says: "One day, honey, you're gonna fart your guts out."
The next Sunday, as wife is preparing a turkey for lunch, Hubbie falls asleep. Wife spies an opportunity to get her own back, so she takes the innards of the turkey and stuff 'em in the boxers her husband is wearing. She then goes back to cooking the turkey. Later on that night, her husband comes to the dinner table looking very frightened.
"What happened?" asks his wife.
"Well," the man says, "you were right. I farted my guts out."
"Oh no!" the wife exclaims. "What'd you do?"
"Well, with the Grace of God and these two fingers, I got 'em all back up in there!"
4. A bloke is taking a piss down a lane when a Copper spots him. "Oi Guvnor, you can't do that here!!! It'll cost you a 45 quid fine."
The bloke gives him a 50 quid note and the Cop says: "But I haven't any change."
"No worries, you can keep it," says the bloke..."cos I dropped a couple of farts as well."
5. How can you tell if a woman is wearing pantyhose? If she farts, her ankles swell.
6. "Darling," says a husband coyly to his wife one evening, "I'm in the mood for something different. Let's swap positions tonight."
"What a good idea," she replies. "You stand in front of the sink and do the dishes and I'll sit in front of the TV and fart."
7. What is Green and Smelly? Hulk farts...
8. What's invisible and smells like carrots? Bunny farts.
9. A man goes to visit his doctor and says, "Doc, I've got a rather embarrassing problem, my farts just don't sound right."
"Well, how do they sound?" inquires the doctor.
"They make a HONDA sound."
The doctor looks puzzled. "Hmm, is there anything else I should know?"
"Well, I also have a terrible boil on my arse," replies the man.
The doctor looks pleased. "That's it then. We'll lance that boil and you'll see a difference immediately."
"Why's that then, Doc?" asks the man.
"It's well known," laughs the Doctor, "Abscess makes the fart go Honda."
10. One day around Christmas time, an Avon lady was soliciting her products in an apartment building. She had just got on the elevator to go to the top floor when she had an overwhelming urge to fart. Seeing as how there was no one else in the elevator she decided to let it rip. It was the most intensely disgusting fart she had ever smelled. She quickly sprayed a new pine scented air freshener with the intent of covering up the smell of the fart.
An older lady got on at the next floor, turned very red in the face and quickly got off on the next floor, so she decided to spray a little more of the air freshener. Two floors later a drunk man got on but did not seem overly distracted by the smell.
She took the opportunity to advertise her product. She said, "Excuse me sir, but I’d like to ask you what you think of our new line of Christmas Scent air fresheners?"
He sniffed the air intensely, hiccuped, and said, "Smells to me like somebody shit a Christmas tree."
11. What is the sharpest thing in the world?
A Fart. It goes through your pants and doesn't even leave a hole.
12. What did the maxi-pad say to the fart?
"You are the wind beneath my wings."
13. And finally, what fart list would be complete without this? Oops, I Farted Again - the super flatulent mega-hit!
EDIT: Bonus joke, best of the best! In order to get the full effect, you must imagine it's being told by your extremely genteel grandmother (As related in comments by Kelly McCrady):
Queen Elizabeth was out riding with a friend, on a rather flatulent horse. On a slow part of the trail, her horse broke wind, and being the lady she is, she apologized.
The gentleman turned to her and said, "That's quite all right, Your Majesty. I thought it was your horse."
Admit it, you laughed at a couple of those.
Leave your link below!
Labels: Thursday 13
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
All the other kids are doing it...
I just had an interesting experience. People have been talking about the Black Dagger Brotherhood books for the last two years. I stubbornly refused to read them because they didn't sound like my sort of thing. At all.
But two days ago, I caved. Not because I desperately wanted to read the book(s), but because I was tired of having nothing to contribute to the discussions when people brought those books up. So I paid my money and took my chances.
Now I'm no longer standing in line with my empty bowl while my peers are like, "Back of the line!" I know all the secrets about Butch, Vishous, Zsadist, Wrath and Rhage. Although I still don't know why only Wrath gets to have his name spelled right. Is it because he's king? Only the king gets correct spelling? And his men are subject to the fiendish misappropriation of Hs to keep them humble? MAYBE THE EXTRA Hs STAND FOR HUMILITY! Holy crap, I'm a genius.
Anyway, I digress. I think there's an interesting phenomenon attached to this and it goes all the way back to peer pressure in high school. Yhou knowh, being nudged into doing something you don't necessarily want to, but you want to fit in. You want to wear the right shoes and read the right books, and have a clue what people are talking about when they ask, "What's doing?"
It makes me wonder how much influence "buzz" exerts over our reading choices. Makes me want to re-examine whether I actually want to read something, or if I just want to conform. In this case it was the latter. I could've gone my whole life without checking out the Brotherhood, dig? But I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I wanted to contribute to discussions. I wanted to know what had everyone else so excited.
I'm not a trend-follower. Most times, I'm so oblivious that trends have come and gone before I ever register a shift. But it's intriguing, nonetheless. It makes me wonder whether people have gotten on board with this series in order to feel part of something. In the modern world there's often a sense of alienation and estrangement. People look for ways to belong, and will sometimes do some wild, desperate things in order to evoke those feelings. (BDB Book 4 actually deals with that in some respects.)
For some people, it's church. For others it's family. And for others, it's friends. Then there are people who belong nowhere at all, and feel like nobody gets them, divided, isolated. They die alone. So give someone you love a hug today. If you have no one to hug, email me. I can't come to your house and deliver the love, but I'm a good listener.
'fess up. Have y'all ever bought a book just because other people were talking about it? A CD? Gone to see a movie? You didn't want to be the only one who'd really rather watch a Nature Channel special? Or are you cool with your outcast state?
PS - If this post has been weird, disjointed, and too depressing for your taste, come back tomorrow. I'll post a stupid T13, made up of fart jokes. That should put the smile back on your faces.
But two days ago, I caved. Not because I desperately wanted to read the book(s), but because I was tired of having nothing to contribute to the discussions when people brought those books up. So I paid my money and took my chances.
Now I'm no longer standing in line with my empty bowl while my peers are like, "Back of the line!" I know all the secrets about Butch, Vishous, Zsadist, Wrath and Rhage. Although I still don't know why only Wrath gets to have his name spelled right. Is it because he's king? Only the king gets correct spelling? And his men are subject to the fiendish misappropriation of Hs to keep them humble? MAYBE THE EXTRA Hs STAND FOR HUMILITY! Holy crap, I'm a genius.
Anyway, I digress. I think there's an interesting phenomenon attached to this and it goes all the way back to peer pressure in high school. Yhou knowh, being nudged into doing something you don't necessarily want to, but you want to fit in. You want to wear the right shoes and read the right books, and have a clue what people are talking about when they ask, "What's doing?"
It makes me wonder how much influence "buzz" exerts over our reading choices. Makes me want to re-examine whether I actually want to read something, or if I just want to conform. In this case it was the latter. I could've gone my whole life without checking out the Brotherhood, dig? But I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I wanted to contribute to discussions. I wanted to know what had everyone else so excited.
I'm not a trend-follower. Most times, I'm so oblivious that trends have come and gone before I ever register a shift. But it's intriguing, nonetheless. It makes me wonder whether people have gotten on board with this series in order to feel part of something. In the modern world there's often a sense of alienation and estrangement. People look for ways to belong, and will sometimes do some wild, desperate things in order to evoke those feelings. (BDB Book 4 actually deals with that in some respects.)
For some people, it's church. For others it's family. And for others, it's friends. Then there are people who belong nowhere at all, and feel like nobody gets them, divided, isolated. They die alone. So give someone you love a hug today. If you have no one to hug, email me. I can't come to your house and deliver the love, but I'm a good listener.
'fess up. Have y'all ever bought a book just because other people were talking about it? A CD? Gone to see a movie? You didn't want to be the only one who'd really rather watch a Nature Channel special? Or are you cool with your outcast state?
PS - If this post has been weird, disjointed, and too depressing for your taste, come back tomorrow. I'll post a stupid T13, made up of fart jokes. That should put the smile back on your faces.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Wicked Writes!
Email me your address and I'll get the Lisa Kleypas book mailed right out to you.
Thanks for playing! Good times. Good times.
Monday, October 15, 2007
The nominees are...
The lovely and talented Dionne Galace picked the top four, therefore I'm removed from accusations of bias and what-not. Without further ado, here are your Embarrassing Story finalists.
Wicked Writes:"I rise late from le boudoir and feel like dinner instead of a late lunch. I know the Chinese place across the street has great deals and I quite fancy some of the 'special mixed meat curry'. It tastes divine going in but ends up watery coming out the back door.
So? I figure everyone gets the bum squirts now and then and it's no bid dealio. I'll just wear a panty liner to keep my knickers from getting streaked.
Eventually the ass gushing stops and I am left with a smelly toilet and a rubbish bin in my bathroom full of poopy panty liners.
I forget about it. I can sort it out later. There is some serious ovarian histronics happening because Tarzan is on tv and he is FINE.
The phone rings. I am selling a fishtank and some dude wants to come pick it up and pay me monies.
Whatever. Back to Tarzan.
Now, I live with 2 bastard catses. Babycat is an adult but behaves like a toddler on a sugar high and Afrocat is the grumpiest bitch on the block. Both are going full scale maddo running up and down my hallway and in and out of all the rooms.
I ignore them and watch more smexy Travis Fimmel. I pray his lil buttflap thing will fall off but it doesn't.
Doorbell rings and dude is here for the tank. He pays me and I leave him to pick up the tank and get the hell out.
*CRASH*
There is an almighty skidding, banging and mewling screech.
I roll my eyes. Cats.
Dude is leaving and needs me to hold open the front door for him. I am a lazy pig and huff about leaving my tv. We head into the hallway and nearly get tripped up by Afrocat being pursued by Babycat.
The smell hits me first...
Uh oh. Shit.
Afrocat gallops past us wearing a couple of my used vag liners complete with skiddy crap marks. She is furiously trying to outrun Babycat and get the sticky pads off at the same time. She looks like she is having a seizure and the smell is enough to make you gag.
The dude looks disgusted and then looks everywhere but at me and makes some comment about the weather. The weather? WTF? Did he not just see the funneh? My cats are cute and he should be cooing and awwing over their splendidness. So what if one has a few ass gravy painted panty liners stuck to her? She was PLAYING. I resist the temptation to ask him if he wants to stroke my pussy... It is hard.
I give him mercy and reach down to pick Afrocat up. She glares at us with hatred. Her growling sounds like a rottweiler and she twitches trying to get the pads off. I peel the shitty liners off her (taking a good lump of fur off too) and release the poofball. She saunters off to watch us from a more queenly vantage point. Babycat follows her.
I am pushing dude out towards the front door with the liners wadded up in my fist.
I manage to peek in the bathroom on the way past and see the bin is on it's side and the contents are strewn all over the floor.
Oh well. These things happen. I hold the door open for dude, thank him for the money and smile. He looks green. I offer him my hand to shake and he visibly winces before rushing away as fast as possible. Kinda rude, if you ask me.
Anyway. I put the rubbish back in the bin, tied the bag and disposed of it properly. I also washed my hands and then went back to watching TV. Deadwood would be on soon. I likes me some sweary western fun!"
Robin:"Years ago, I was on day 3 of my first serious career-track job. My company was hosting a seminar presenting our project to 500 industry leaders. My mentor, a corporate heavy-hitter, forgot to order a translator for a non-English speaking government official who was due to speak. In a bind, he "asked" me whether I would be willing to stand up in front of 500 VIP's to do simultaneous translation (which I'd never done before). Remember it's just my 3rd day on the job. I was backed into a corner and said yes. Only catch? The ^%$%$#$@# Minister had never had anyone translate before AND NEVER STOPPED TO LET ME SPEAK! By the time he'd droned on for 5 straight minutes I'd completely forgotten what he'd said when he started! I literally froze halfway through and stood there with my mouth hanging open until the Mayor stood up from the audience and finished the translation. And to top it off, afterwards the Deputy Mayor had the nerve to tell me "wow, you really screwed up out there, didn't you?"! Utter and total humiliation which took over a year to live down. I'm cringing at the mere memory."
Kim W: "I accidentally tucked my skirt into my pantyhose when I was in the bathroom. I worked in a large office building at the time. I went all the way from the lobby area to my office with my behind hanging out. I saw a few snickers and wondered what was up. It wasn't until I walked through the door of where I worked and the receptionist started laughing at me when I passed by that I knew. Of course I had no panties on so that made it even worse."
L: "I can remember a time long, long ago. I was a mm, clumsy child and I lived with oldest sister.
Who obviously hated me, because she made go to a church where old people said "bless your heart" like I was diseased for being biracial. That's not the worst of it, though.
She made me wear a gigantic poofy dress. Gigantic as in...you can move without toppling over.
So I waddled like a penguin to church.
I was like, five, and there was a boy who was cuter than cute, but who is now uglier than ugly.
I sat down looking away from him...
onto air...
and flat on my ass.
Nobody helped me up or nothing.
The poofy skirt flipped up and out onto my face showing off my underwear to the formerly cute but now very ugly boy.
I died. Like five times.
It took people like ten minutes to help the poofy dressed one up.
There was no hurrying.
That was the moment when I realized I had the potential to be the greatest pyromaniac a five year old could be.
Long story, short, my sister shipped me back to my parents."
And you choose...
You have 24 hours to vote. The poll is set so it won't let you vote for yourself repeatedly, but you can have all your friends and family stop by if you'd like. Feel free to be shameless.
Tomorrow, we'll have a winner!
In the meantime, let's talk about my favorite new discovery, Ayo. She's huge in France, y'all. She's got a simple acoustic feel along the lines of Tracy Chapman or Sade, but she has her own magic. Check her out!
What's your favorite singer / band that other people have probably never heard of?
Wicked Writes:"I rise late from le boudoir and feel like dinner instead of a late lunch. I know the Chinese place across the street has great deals and I quite fancy some of the 'special mixed meat curry'. It tastes divine going in but ends up watery coming out the back door.
So? I figure everyone gets the bum squirts now and then and it's no bid dealio. I'll just wear a panty liner to keep my knickers from getting streaked.
Eventually the ass gushing stops and I am left with a smelly toilet and a rubbish bin in my bathroom full of poopy panty liners.
I forget about it. I can sort it out later. There is some serious ovarian histronics happening because Tarzan is on tv and he is FINE.
The phone rings. I am selling a fishtank and some dude wants to come pick it up and pay me monies.
Whatever. Back to Tarzan.
Now, I live with 2 bastard catses. Babycat is an adult but behaves like a toddler on a sugar high and Afrocat is the grumpiest bitch on the block. Both are going full scale maddo running up and down my hallway and in and out of all the rooms.
I ignore them and watch more smexy Travis Fimmel. I pray his lil buttflap thing will fall off but it doesn't.
Doorbell rings and dude is here for the tank. He pays me and I leave him to pick up the tank and get the hell out.
*CRASH*
There is an almighty skidding, banging and mewling screech.
I roll my eyes. Cats.
Dude is leaving and needs me to hold open the front door for him. I am a lazy pig and huff about leaving my tv. We head into the hallway and nearly get tripped up by Afrocat being pursued by Babycat.
The smell hits me first...
Uh oh. Shit.
Afrocat gallops past us wearing a couple of my used vag liners complete with skiddy crap marks. She is furiously trying to outrun Babycat and get the sticky pads off at the same time. She looks like she is having a seizure and the smell is enough to make you gag.
The dude looks disgusted and then looks everywhere but at me and makes some comment about the weather. The weather? WTF? Did he not just see the funneh? My cats are cute and he should be cooing and awwing over their splendidness. So what if one has a few ass gravy painted panty liners stuck to her? She was PLAYING. I resist the temptation to ask him if he wants to stroke my pussy... It is hard.
I give him mercy and reach down to pick Afrocat up. She glares at us with hatred. Her growling sounds like a rottweiler and she twitches trying to get the pads off. I peel the shitty liners off her (taking a good lump of fur off too) and release the poofball. She saunters off to watch us from a more queenly vantage point. Babycat follows her.
I am pushing dude out towards the front door with the liners wadded up in my fist.
I manage to peek in the bathroom on the way past and see the bin is on it's side and the contents are strewn all over the floor.
Oh well. These things happen. I hold the door open for dude, thank him for the money and smile. He looks green. I offer him my hand to shake and he visibly winces before rushing away as fast as possible. Kinda rude, if you ask me.
Anyway. I put the rubbish back in the bin, tied the bag and disposed of it properly. I also washed my hands and then went back to watching TV. Deadwood would be on soon. I likes me some sweary western fun!"
Robin:"Years ago, I was on day 3 of my first serious career-track job. My company was hosting a seminar presenting our project to 500 industry leaders. My mentor, a corporate heavy-hitter, forgot to order a translator for a non-English speaking government official who was due to speak. In a bind, he "asked" me whether I would be willing to stand up in front of 500 VIP's to do simultaneous translation (which I'd never done before). Remember it's just my 3rd day on the job. I was backed into a corner and said yes. Only catch? The ^%$%$#$@# Minister had never had anyone translate before AND NEVER STOPPED TO LET ME SPEAK! By the time he'd droned on for 5 straight minutes I'd completely forgotten what he'd said when he started! I literally froze halfway through and stood there with my mouth hanging open until the Mayor stood up from the audience and finished the translation. And to top it off, afterwards the Deputy Mayor had the nerve to tell me "wow, you really screwed up out there, didn't you?"! Utter and total humiliation which took over a year to live down. I'm cringing at the mere memory."
Kim W: "I accidentally tucked my skirt into my pantyhose when I was in the bathroom. I worked in a large office building at the time. I went all the way from the lobby area to my office with my behind hanging out. I saw a few snickers and wondered what was up. It wasn't until I walked through the door of where I worked and the receptionist started laughing at me when I passed by that I knew. Of course I had no panties on so that made it even worse."
L: "I can remember a time long, long ago. I was a mm, clumsy child and I lived with oldest sister.
Who obviously hated me, because she made go to a church where old people said "bless your heart" like I was diseased for being biracial. That's not the worst of it, though.
She made me wear a gigantic poofy dress. Gigantic as in...you can move without toppling over.
So I waddled like a penguin to church.
I was like, five, and there was a boy who was cuter than cute, but who is now uglier than ugly.
I sat down looking away from him...
onto air...
and flat on my ass.
Nobody helped me up or nothing.
The poofy skirt flipped up and out onto my face showing off my underwear to the formerly cute but now very ugly boy.
I died. Like five times.
It took people like ten minutes to help the poofy dressed one up.
There was no hurrying.
That was the moment when I realized I had the potential to be the greatest pyromaniac a five year old could be.
Long story, short, my sister shipped me back to my parents."
And you choose...
You have 24 hours to vote. The poll is set so it won't let you vote for yourself repeatedly, but you can have all your friends and family stop by if you'd like. Feel free to be shameless.
Tomorrow, we'll have a winner!
In the meantime, let's talk about my favorite new discovery, Ayo. She's huge in France, y'all. She's got a simple acoustic feel along the lines of Tracy Chapman or Sade, but she has her own magic. Check her out!
What's your favorite singer / band that other people have probably never heard of?
Friday, October 12, 2007
Free Loot Friday
You know, sometimes I think I'm going about this blogging thing all wrong. Everyday I try to come up with something interesting that'll make y'all wanna come back.
Now I'm thinking I'll go at this from another angle, at least on Fridays.
You've gotten a free ride off me long enough. It's time for you to entertain me!
So here's the deal. Every other week (that'd be every second Friday) I'm gonna pose a question and the best answer wins a prize. This time, I'm asking:
What's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you?
Toilet paper stuck to your shoe? Skirt tucked up in your hose at church and nobody told you? Spilled a pitcher of tea into your boss's lap?
I wanna hear about it! Make me laugh, make me cringe, make me feel sorry for you. But make me feel something, for sure, because if I'm bored, you don't get the prize.
And it's worth winning. Ever thought about picking up Lisa Kleypas's contemporary, but you weren't sure you wanted to invest that much in a hardback you aren't sure you'll like? I have a copy of Sugar Daddy with your name on it. Well, not literally. But if you win it by sharing your most embarrassing moment, you could write all over it, cos I'll mail it to you.
Here's the rules. You have until Monday at noon to post your story here in comments. On Monday afternoon, we'll vote on the best story, and on Tuesday, I'll send your book! Sound fun? Let's get started.
And two weeks from now we'll go again. No, I'm not telling you the question or the book you could win. You have to come back to find out.
Go on, you may as well bookmark me on your favorite places, cos you know you can't resist free books. You'll be back.
PS - if you wish to enter under a nom de plume, I completely understand.
Now I'm thinking I'll go at this from another angle, at least on Fridays.
You've gotten a free ride off me long enough. It's time for you to entertain me!
So here's the deal. Every other week (that'd be every second Friday) I'm gonna pose a question and the best answer wins a prize. This time, I'm asking:
What's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you?
Toilet paper stuck to your shoe? Skirt tucked up in your hose at church and nobody told you? Spilled a pitcher of tea into your boss's lap?
I wanna hear about it! Make me laugh, make me cringe, make me feel sorry for you. But make me feel something, for sure, because if I'm bored, you don't get the prize.
And it's worth winning. Ever thought about picking up Lisa Kleypas's contemporary, but you weren't sure you wanted to invest that much in a hardback you aren't sure you'll like? I have a copy of Sugar Daddy with your name on it. Well, not literally. But if you win it by sharing your most embarrassing moment, you could write all over it, cos I'll mail it to you.
Here's the rules. You have until Monday at noon to post your story here in comments. On Monday afternoon, we'll vote on the best story, and on Tuesday, I'll send your book! Sound fun? Let's get started.
And two weeks from now we'll go again. No, I'm not telling you the question or the book you could win. You have to come back to find out.
Go on, you may as well bookmark me on your favorite places, cos you know you can't resist free books. You'll be back.
PS - if you wish to enter under a nom de plume, I completely understand.
Labels: contest, free loot friday, fun stuff
Thursday, October 11, 2007
T13
1. dirty sock2. dead cricket
3. live cricket
4. clean sock
5. pair of black tights
6. a small lizard
7. one old slipper
8. stuffed skunk
9. my new shoe
10. a baby turtle
11. a shredded roll of toilet paper
12. one mangled plastic bag
13. string of beads
And a partridge in a pear tree. My cats fancy themselves mighty hunters, so won't you "ooh" and "ahh" over their prowess? Amazingly enough, the turtle suffered no ill effects (even though he was missing for days and endured a frightening stint as a kitty toy). Never fear, Splish has been returned to his aquarium and is doing fine.
No turtles or lizards were harmed in the making of this post. Sadly, one cricket did not survive.
Labels: Thursday 13
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
I am, I said
I am, I said
To no one there
And no one heard at all
Not even the chair
I am, I cried
I am, said I
And I am lost, and I can't even say why
Leavin' me lonely still
I am single-minded.
Others might use different words. O-C might come up, for instance, if someone knew me really well. I don't suffer from Monk-levels of neuroses, but I definitely have my quirks.
For instance, with comments? I like to have even numbers on my comments at all times. Unless, of course, the comment ends in five, in which case, it's all right. Don't ask me why. But if the number ends in nine that bugs me, and I'll have to comment myself in order to bring it up to the next set of numbers. 29? No way. Gotta be 30. Same with 19. Bugs. Me. But 15 or 25? That's fine. I can let that go.
I also can't post my own comments back to back. If I think of something else to say, or I notice I accidentally missed someone who commented before me, I have two choices. I can delete my own comment and re-write it. Or I can wait for someone else to comment. If it's a pressing need, I do the first thing. Otherwise I just bide my time.
Another instance, I fiddle with paragraphs on my blog until they look just right. I delete words if I wind up with a widow. (One word by itself on a line) I'm driven slowly insane by owning two different computers. If it looks awesome on my Ibook, it's probably fucked up on my desktop downstairs. *headdesk*
(I know, right? I'm... quirky).
Anyway, back to being single-minded. In some respects, this is a good thing. It gives me the ability to cleave to a project until it's finished. It gave me the determination to stick with writing, no matter what anyone else said, or how grim my prospects looked.
But in other ways, it's not so good. Because say I fix on a need to do something (whether it's buy new shoes, open a bank account, get a cat, hire a publicist), then it's all but impossible for me to shift gears until I get that one thing taken care of. It preys on me. I think about it. I try to figure out ways I can get this thing done to the exclusion of all else.
Everything doesn't hit me like that, though. I mean, I can say, "We need milk and eggs," without immediately fixating and trying to scheme ways to get milk and eggs at midnight. So I don't know what the trigger is: why I obsess over some things and not others.
For instance, when I decided I wanted this blog redone... my web designer had a personal issue, and said there would be some delay before she could get to it. I totally understood. I'm not a heartless harpy. But the thing is...
I. Could. Not. Wait.
Once I made up my mind I wanted a new design, I fiddled and fiddled until I figured it out myself. I couldn't write, suddenly, because I was thinking about my blog template. How could I fix it? What could I do to make it look better? Was there any way I could do it myself?
I hate waiting on other people. Does that make me a control freak? It's not that I mind paying to have work done; I just hate having stuff out of my hands. And I hate not having it done right when I want it. I don't particularly like what that says about me, but I own it.
Being a mom means multi-tasking. Y'all know that, I'm sure. It means checking homework, reading books, looking at projects, checking supplies, making dinner, and what the hell did the dog do now? Given my single-minded bent, this is often hard for me. I have one thing on my mind and I don't honestly give a shit about the 1000 other things that need to be taken care of. Why? Because I work in a linear fashion. I don't make lists, but if I did, I'd want to work through them in order.
The older I get, the more weird shit I see in myself. (I'm starting to like Neil Diamond, for instance. Gawd. One day, I might be rocking out to Engelbert Humperdink in my polyester double-knit jumpsuit. Sigh.) I don't go around touching light posts or washing my hands compulsively, but I think I'm definitely west of normal. What about y'all? I can't be the only one with weird habits. So spill it!
Labels: Random Tuesday
Monday, October 08, 2007
movies, romance, and stuff
So I went to the VIP Cinema with my husband on Friday night for a proper date. We were intending too see Resident Evil 3, but it had already been shunted off to the regular theaters. Since the gorgeous leather reclining seats and impeccable service were the reason we went to La Cuspide, we examined our other options.
Turned out we watched Superbad for our date. I thought it was really funny and Andres said it captured the co-dependent angst of two best guy friends moving on with their lives perfectly. I wouldn't know about that.
I don't think it was quite as good as Knocked Up, but Andres hasn't seen that, so we couldn't really compare / contrast the two.
I will say this: Seth Rogen is awesome.
Also saw I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry last week. Much better than I expected. Yeah, yeah, I know. I have terrible taste in movies. But I'll watch just about anything that will make me laugh.
About the only movies that were just too stupid get a laugh out of me were the Dumb and Dumber ones. Hell, I'm the one who keeps Rob Schneider thinking he's leading man material.
I was pondering that this morning. Well, sort of.
See, I don't really get crushes on actors. Not like I want to put their pictures all over my computer, or look for photos of them naked. But all the same, I get a warm fuzzy over guys like Kevin James and Seth Rogen making it in Hollywood. It gives me hope that normal people, or people who aren't drop-dead gorgeous, can be seen as leading man (or leading lady) material.
What about in your romance novels? Elizabeth Hoyt did something interesting with The Raven Prince. Edward de Raaf is not by any stretch good-looking. To be honest, he's not even nice. Have y'all read it? What did you think?
I have to say, I admire authors who can take an unpalatable character and make me fall in love with him or her. What books do you recommend where this happens? I'm tired of the pretty people.
Labels: books, movie madness
Friday, October 05, 2007
Bits and pieces
First, I'm excited to report that I'm now official at Two Sisters Promotions. We've been working on this for several weeks now, and all the details are squared away. If you're unclear on what this means, well, I have a publicist! As of yesterday, it's a done deal.
Second, a new review came in for Boundless. Ordinarily, I don't make a to-do about reviews, good or bad, but I really liked what Lindy said. Check this out:
I can't accurately depict the awe and wonder that comes over me when I read these words: "...Annie Dean is one of my favorite authors."
My first reaction is me? Really? ME?
See, I have favorite authors. People I think are insanely gifted and whose words make my breath catch in my throat, whose books captivate me and keep from getting other things done. So when someone comes along and tells me that, for them, I do the same thing, I don't know what the hell to say. I want to gush like a fangirl yet I check myself so I don't come off like a giant rubber bouncing goober. I say, "I appreciate hearing that" sedately and add, "I'm so happy you enjoyed the book" (warning, warning, Will Robinson, understatement meter overload!) and then, "thanks so much for taking the time to write me."
Whilst inside me there's "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" going on. This doesn't change. No matter how often I hear it, I still have that reaction. There's a five-year-old in my head, running circles with overexcited glee. You know how kids do that until they fall down? In my head, I so do that when someone tells me they enjoyed a book, a story, or that they like my writing. And when someone says I'm one of their favorite authors, OMG. Picture the five-year-old sucking down a Pixie Stick first. Then commence the running. I know, right?
I know this makes me an enormous geek. But I figure it's better to own it. I am an enormous geek. And you readers thrill the pee out of me on a daily basis. Well, not literally. Y'know. Except at the usual times.
I love British humor, sci-fi flicks, superhero movies / TV shows, hot emo boys, alternative music, and all kinds of books. I'd rather buy books than anything except possibly purses (and yes, that includes shoes). I'd rather stay home with my husband than go to a club. I am what I am.
Thanks for liking me this way.
Second, a new review came in for Boundless. Ordinarily, I don't make a to-do about reviews, good or bad, but I really liked what Lindy said. Check this out:
"She takes a very dark character and makes him not just palatable but kind and even gentle. Once again I see why Annie Dean is one of my favorite authors. Her creative flair and likable characters take a dark and seemingly impossible scenario and turn it into a tender love story with a wonderful depth."You can read the entire review here.
I can't accurately depict the awe and wonder that comes over me when I read these words: "...Annie Dean is one of my favorite authors."
My first reaction is me? Really? ME?
See, I have favorite authors. People I think are insanely gifted and whose words make my breath catch in my throat, whose books captivate me and keep from getting other things done. So when someone comes along and tells me that, for them, I do the same thing, I don't know what the hell to say. I want to gush like a fangirl yet I check myself so I don't come off like a giant rubber bouncing goober. I say, "I appreciate hearing that" sedately and add, "I'm so happy you enjoyed the book" (warning, warning, Will Robinson, understatement meter overload!) and then, "thanks so much for taking the time to write me."
Whilst inside me there's "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" going on. This doesn't change. No matter how often I hear it, I still have that reaction. There's a five-year-old in my head, running circles with overexcited glee. You know how kids do that until they fall down? In my head, I so do that when someone tells me they enjoyed a book, a story, or that they like my writing. And when someone says I'm one of their favorite authors, OMG. Picture the five-year-old sucking down a Pixie Stick first. Then commence the running. I know, right?
I know this makes me an enormous geek. But I figure it's better to own it. I am an enormous geek. And you readers thrill the pee out of me on a daily basis. Well, not literally. Y'know. Except at the usual times.
I love British humor, sci-fi flicks, superhero movies / TV shows, hot emo boys, alternative music, and all kinds of books. I'd rather buy books than anything except possibly purses (and yes, that includes shoes). I'd rather stay home with my husband than go to a club. I am what I am.
Thanks for liking me this way.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
t13
1. We shared a room at National in Dallas.
2. We kept each other up until stupid o'clock, giggling.
3. She can make me laugh just by saying "Turk!" in a particular accent.
4. The airline lost her luggage on the way to Dallas and she spent the first day worrying she'd have to wear a Killers t-shirt for four days. (And do all her pitches in it too!) Happily, they found her stuff, and she rocked the house at National; both her pitches resulted in requests for mss.
5. She's written an absolutely amazing historical romance, called Redeeming Will Scarlet.
6. She was inspired by Christian Slater in Prince of Thieves.
7. There are some super action scenes in this book, unbelievably vivid, and with almost cinematic color / clarity. Even if you don't ordinarily like historicals, you'll want to check this one out. It's on a whole 'nother level.
8. Did I mention her hero is hawt? Will is burn-the-house down hawt.
9. Her heroine, Meg, is mean as a sack of snakes, and I love her. She's strong, unique, and fabulous -- she's an alchemist! How cool is that? The historical detail is so kickass. I mean, all the cool shit Meg does in the book is all scientifically accurate. Oh, and she's blind. Carrie does a freakin' amazing job compensating, writing for her other senses. The whole book is astonishingly raw and sensual.
10. The love scenes are swoon-worthy. Exhibit A:
“Kiss me,” he said, hearing a plea buried in his command.Daaaaaaaamn, right? What a punch she packs with that question.
“Where?”
“By the saints.”
He closed his eyes, hammered by the thrill of her question. A shuddering breath did not douse his ardor. Pain and pleasure blurred the boundary between waking and dreaming...
11. Carrie recently signed with Caren Johnson, who also reps the lovely & talented Caridad Ferrer. (Yes, the one who won the RITA.)
12. As if you aren't already dying to get your hands on Redeeming Will Scarlet, here's a snippet of what Susan Wiggs (yes, you read that right!) said about the book: "Readers will delight in this inventive foray into a legendary place..."
13. And finally, here's the important bit: she recently made a two-book deal with Hilary Sares / Kensington Books for Redeeming Will Scarlet and a sequel. Redeeming Will Scarlet hits bookshelves as a Zebra Debut in September '08. Go Carrie!
Make sure you stop by her blog to show her T13 some love today.
Labels: Thursday 13
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Can I be serious for a minute?
And this is where you say, "I don't know, can you?"
The answer is -- yes, yes, I can.
I read the discussion over on Dear Author, called The Hysterical Reader, along with all the pertaining comments. It's a long bunch of stuff, which you can read (or not), as you like.
Well, I'd never tell other authors how to do their jobs and any attempt to regulate their behavior according to my standards certainly falls under that heading. But for me? That's something I'd never do.
I'd never post an excerpt from an email I receive, good or bad, without permission. If I get a fan letter that's particularly exciting, I still email and ask for permission to use a snippet on my blog or website.
I think it's matter of trust, honestly. I don't know if other authors feel this way, but I see readers as my customers, my clients. And if you work at Nordstrom, what's the first thing you learn? The importance of good customer service. That doesn't include using my 'status' to try and prove my own superiority.
The fact is, I'm not superior. I just write books. True, it's my dream job, but I still find myself dazzled to have it. Perhaps that will change, the longer I go on. But I hope not. I don't want it to.
Each letter I receive is important to me and I answer every one. Maintaining a good relationship with my readers is important to me. No, not everyone will like my books, but when I do get that sort of mail, I'll write back with, "Thanks for taking the time to express your thoughts. I hope you'll like the next book better." Now chances are, this person won't buy any more of my books. And that's okay too. If he or she goes on to harangue me further, I simply won't respond. I've acknowledged the first letter privately, and to my mind, that's all I need to do.
Further, it's all I should do.
I would never want to behave in a way that makes readers feel they can't trust me. I want them to be sure I can be relied on to keep their confidence (not that I necessarily want to become a personal confidante), but I want to be seen as an ethical person, someone who wouldn't share private information on impulse or because it might benefit me in some way.
I just wouldn't do that, in the same way I wouldn't kill off a beloved character on a whim. These are trust issues, and whether authors want to acknowledge it or not, there is a certain rapport that ought to be present. When authors consistently display disregard or disdain for their readership, it gives me a sinking feeling. Without readers, I'd just be jilling off by writing my books, a specialized form of mental masturbation.
And so it behooves me to treat readers with the same sort of respect I'd want to receive. I don't get to indulge in hissy fits, at least not in public. Because I'm a professional, and I don't roll like that.
The answer is -- yes, yes, I can.
I read the discussion over on Dear Author, called The Hysterical Reader, along with all the pertaining comments. It's a long bunch of stuff, which you can read (or not), as you like.
Well, I'd never tell other authors how to do their jobs and any attempt to regulate their behavior according to my standards certainly falls under that heading. But for me? That's something I'd never do.
I'd never post an excerpt from an email I receive, good or bad, without permission. If I get a fan letter that's particularly exciting, I still email and ask for permission to use a snippet on my blog or website.
I think it's matter of trust, honestly. I don't know if other authors feel this way, but I see readers as my customers, my clients. And if you work at Nordstrom, what's the first thing you learn? The importance of good customer service. That doesn't include using my 'status' to try and prove my own superiority.
The fact is, I'm not superior. I just write books. True, it's my dream job, but I still find myself dazzled to have it. Perhaps that will change, the longer I go on. But I hope not. I don't want it to.
Each letter I receive is important to me and I answer every one. Maintaining a good relationship with my readers is important to me. No, not everyone will like my books, but when I do get that sort of mail, I'll write back with, "Thanks for taking the time to express your thoughts. I hope you'll like the next book better." Now chances are, this person won't buy any more of my books. And that's okay too. If he or she goes on to harangue me further, I simply won't respond. I've acknowledged the first letter privately, and to my mind, that's all I need to do.
Further, it's all I should do.
I would never want to behave in a way that makes readers feel they can't trust me. I want them to be sure I can be relied on to keep their confidence (not that I necessarily want to become a personal confidante), but I want to be seen as an ethical person, someone who wouldn't share private information on impulse or because it might benefit me in some way.
I just wouldn't do that, in the same way I wouldn't kill off a beloved character on a whim. These are trust issues, and whether authors want to acknowledge it or not, there is a certain rapport that ought to be present. When authors consistently display disregard or disdain for their readership, it gives me a sinking feeling. Without readers, I'd just be jilling off by writing my books, a specialized form of mental masturbation.
And so it behooves me to treat readers with the same sort of respect I'd want to receive. I don't get to indulge in hissy fits, at least not in public. Because I'm a professional, and I don't roll like that.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Easy Meme-age
So Carrie Lofty tagged me with this meme, and it's an easy one, so I'm gonna do it. I know everyone is dying to see what my desktop looks like. So without further ado...
Lessee, what else am I supposed to do? Oh, explain my desktop. Well, I like the picture, and I can't have naked men on my screen since I have children wandering in and out. I keep my computer desktop pretty clean, along with my office. I find it hard to work when I'm surrounded by clutter, and that goes for my desktop too. About once a week I delete stuff and sort all my e-files to the folders where they ought to be (music, Word, pictures, and such).
Here's how you play:
A. Upon receiving this tag, immediately perform a screen capture of your desktop. It is best that no icons be deleted before the screen capture so as to add to the element of fun. You can do a screen capture by going to your desktop and pressing the Print Scrn key (located on the right side of the F12 key). Open a graphics program (like Picture Manager, Paint, or Photoshop) and do a Paste (CTRL + V).If you wish, you can "edit" the image, before saving it.
B. Post the picture in your blog. You can also give a short explanation on the look of your desktop just below it if you want. You can explain why you preferred such look or why is it full of icons. Things like that.
C. Tag five of your friends and ask them to give you a Free View of their desktop.
D. Add your name to this list of Free Viewers with a link pointing directly to your Desktop Free View post to promote it to succeeding participants.
List of Free Viewers:
iRonnie, Thess, Rebecca, Knoizki, Beng, Tina, Rachel, Alice, Julia, Darla, Carrie, Ann
I tag:
Cora, Ciar, April, L, Devon
Some of you astute souls out there may have noticed that my desktop theme is part of my new blog template. Right you are! I spent most of last night redecorating around here. What do you think? I was going for something more streamlined, and I'm quite liking this.
EDIT: Woohoo! Problem solved.
Cynthia Eden's husband, Nicholas, who is as handsome as he is brilliant, troubleshot (is that a word?) my template, and the inline comments look just as good as the rest of the template.
So how do you like it? I think it's sleek and tasty.
Lessee, what else am I supposed to do? Oh, explain my desktop. Well, I like the picture, and I can't have naked men on my screen since I have children wandering in and out. I keep my computer desktop pretty clean, along with my office. I find it hard to work when I'm surrounded by clutter, and that goes for my desktop too. About once a week I delete stuff and sort all my e-files to the folders where they ought to be (music, Word, pictures, and such).
Here's how you play:
A. Upon receiving this tag, immediately perform a screen capture of your desktop. It is best that no icons be deleted before the screen capture so as to add to the element of fun. You can do a screen capture by going to your desktop and pressing the Print Scrn key (located on the right side of the F12 key). Open a graphics program (like Picture Manager, Paint, or Photoshop) and do a Paste (CTRL + V).If you wish, you can "edit" the image, before saving it.
B. Post the picture in your blog. You can also give a short explanation on the look of your desktop just below it if you want. You can explain why you preferred such look or why is it full of icons. Things like that.
C. Tag five of your friends and ask them to give you a Free View of their desktop.
D. Add your name to this list of Free Viewers with a link pointing directly to your Desktop Free View post to promote it to succeeding participants.
List of Free Viewers:
iRonnie, Thess, Rebecca, Knoizki, Beng, Tina, Rachel, Alice, Julia, Darla, Carrie, Ann
I tag:
Cora, Ciar, April, L, Devon
Some of you astute souls out there may have noticed that my desktop theme is part of my new blog template. Right you are! I spent most of last night redecorating around here. What do you think? I was going for something more streamlined, and I'm quite liking this.
EDIT: Woohoo! Problem solved.
Cynthia Eden's husband, Nicholas, who is as handsome as he is brilliant, troubleshot (is that a word?) my template, and the inline comments look just as good as the rest of the template. So how do you like it? I think it's sleek and tasty.
Labels: fuckin' memes, new template
Monday, October 01, 2007
New diversions
First, I'd like to thank everyone who commented last week. I actually feel a bit humbled by the number of people who showed up to congratulate me. No, I didn't spend the week celebrating. I have kids and they get sick, and viruses don't time their arrival for when it's convenient, unfortunately.
But my husband did bring me so many flowers that it took three vases to contain them all. He's proud of me. *silly grin*
A number of you are asking when my Touch books are coming out. Truth is, I don't know just yet. We're still working that out with Anne, but as soon as I know, I'll post my release dates. Anyhow, enough book-y stuff for the time being.
For the past year, I've had a very finite number of shows I can be arsed to watch every week. First it was Bones, Supernatural, and Monk. Then USA (I think it's USA?) added Psych to the lineup.
I love this show. It's Shawn and Gus's comic chemistry that keeps me coming back week after week. But I even like Lassiter and Jules. And Shawn's mega-control freak dad, Henry (played by Corbin Bernsen of LA Law fame) is pretty funny sometimes too.
So the number of shows I watch per week went up to four. I could handle that, right? That's not hard to keep track of. Well, then Bones and Supernatural went on hiatus. But it's not on the same schedule as the summer break you get in the States. I have no idea when these shows will resume and start season three. I think maybe sometime in March.
Anyway, my husband starts trolling for new TV shows. This is never a good idea because if he gets me hooked, then I have to watch it every single week. I am not a casual TV watcher. This is why I make it a point to limit my TV viewing. Witness my past addictions to weird and random shows from Barney Miller to M*A*S*H to Angel to the X-Files. In recent years I've done really well in preventing my TV addiction from becoming overwhelming.
However, since we were down two shows that we normally watch together, I agreed to some experimentation. So now we're watching Jericho. I didn't know it was a CBS show initially. We watch it on AXN. But it's seriously pretty good. It's a post-apocalyptic show (which was all I needed to know in order to sell me on it). I'm still waiting for the zombies from the radiation-poisoning, but surely they'll come in time. I mean, can you really do a post-apocalyptic show without zombies? That's what I thought. This show is scary in a low-key, what-would-we-do-if-someone-bombed-the-US? sort of way.
The next new show that I'm really liking is Torchwood. This is a Doctor Who spinoff, developed by the BBC. Frankly I've never watched Doctor Who. All I really know about DW is that he wears a long scarf in one incarnation. But Torchwood, set in Cardiff, is enough of its own animal and has a clear enough setup that you don't need to be a Who-file. We watch it on People+Arts every Tuesday night.
As if that's not bad enough...we're both Matthew Perry fans. Chandler, from Friends? We tried to support his lackluster movie career, and when we heard he had a new show (and Warner started showing it here) we had to watch it. Sigh. I wanted to hate it, honestly. Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip?
I was so hoping it would suck. But I love it. It's clever, great comedic timing, layered characterizations... which means, of course, it will be canceled, so I won't have to worry about the addiction.
ACK! EDIT: I forgot about Heroes. This show is beyond amazing, and we actually plan our Friday nights around it (when it's on). "Gotta be home by 9, Heroes is on tonight." I could write a whole post about this show and its colossal awesomeness, but I'll save the fangirl gushing. Suffice to say, we love this show too (but it's on hiatus at the moment, which is why I forgot it).
That leaves us gearing up for yet another show that I'm hearing is fantastic. Burn Notice. Yet another USA show. I swear, they make the best cable TV shows out there. Sorry, I don't watch anything on HBO or Showtime. Those shows may be awesome too, but I can't swear to it.
So we've been hearing great things about Burn Notice, and it begins here in October. It has Bruce Campbell in it. I mean, my God. I have to watch it. I'm a huge Bruce Campbell fan -- even more so since Bubba Ho-tep, only the best horror-comedy ever made!
Now here's the problem (and it makes my brain hurt). Bones = Tuesdays, 10pm. Supernatural = Tuesday, 10pm. No problem so far, right? We have a TiVo, so we record one, and then watch it right after the other show finishes up. But just wait.
Torchwood = Tuesdays, 10pm. Now there's a problem. But it gets worse. Burn Notice = Tuesday, 10pm. *headdesk* When the first two shows come back from hiatus, we are so screwed. (But maybe they'll be staggered so we can just alternate? Maybe all four will never be running at the same time?!) Yeah, right. That'd just be too lucky.
Why TUESDAY?! The rest of the week, we've got nothing to watch, practically. Is this some kind of cosmic joke? (Is it possible to hook up multiple TiVOs to the same TV?) How would you guys solve this? These are all must-watch shows! What are your must-watch shows? And what would you do if they were all on at the same time, on the same night?
HALP!
But my husband did bring me so many flowers that it took three vases to contain them all. He's proud of me. *silly grin*
A number of you are asking when my Touch books are coming out. Truth is, I don't know just yet. We're still working that out with Anne, but as soon as I know, I'll post my release dates. Anyhow, enough book-y stuff for the time being.
For the past year, I've had a very finite number of shows I can be arsed to watch every week. First it was Bones, Supernatural, and Monk. Then USA (I think it's USA?) added Psych to the lineup.
I love this show. It's Shawn and Gus's comic chemistry that keeps me coming back week after week. But I even like Lassiter and Jules. And Shawn's mega-control freak dad, Henry (played by Corbin Bernsen of LA Law fame) is pretty funny sometimes too.
So the number of shows I watch per week went up to four. I could handle that, right? That's not hard to keep track of. Well, then Bones and Supernatural went on hiatus. But it's not on the same schedule as the summer break you get in the States. I have no idea when these shows will resume and start season three. I think maybe sometime in March.
Anyway, my husband starts trolling for new TV shows. This is never a good idea because if he gets me hooked, then I have to watch it every single week. I am not a casual TV watcher. This is why I make it a point to limit my TV viewing. Witness my past addictions to weird and random shows from Barney Miller to M*A*S*H to Angel to the X-Files. In recent years I've done really well in preventing my TV addiction from becoming overwhelming.
However, since we were down two shows that we normally watch together, I agreed to some experimentation. So now we're watching Jericho. I didn't know it was a CBS show initially. We watch it on AXN. But it's seriously pretty good. It's a post-apocalyptic show (which was all I needed to know in order to sell me on it). I'm still waiting for the zombies from the radiation-poisoning, but surely they'll come in time. I mean, can you really do a post-apocalyptic show without zombies? That's what I thought. This show is scary in a low-key, what-would-we-do-if-someone-bombed-the-US? sort of way.
The next new show that I'm really liking is Torchwood. This is a Doctor Who spinoff, developed by the BBC. Frankly I've never watched Doctor Who. All I really know about DW is that he wears a long scarf in one incarnation. But Torchwood, set in Cardiff, is enough of its own animal and has a clear enough setup that you don't need to be a Who-file. We watch it on People+Arts every Tuesday night.
As if that's not bad enough...we're both Matthew Perry fans. Chandler, from Friends? We tried to support his lackluster movie career, and when we heard he had a new show (and Warner started showing it here) we had to watch it. Sigh. I wanted to hate it, honestly. Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip?
I was so hoping it would suck. But I love it. It's clever, great comedic timing, layered characterizations... which means, of course, it will be canceled, so I won't have to worry about the addiction.
ACK! EDIT: I forgot about Heroes. This show is beyond amazing, and we actually plan our Friday nights around it (when it's on). "Gotta be home by 9, Heroes is on tonight." I could write a whole post about this show and its colossal awesomeness, but I'll save the fangirl gushing. Suffice to say, we love this show too (but it's on hiatus at the moment, which is why I forgot it).
That leaves us gearing up for yet another show that I'm hearing is fantastic. Burn Notice. Yet another USA show. I swear, they make the best cable TV shows out there. Sorry, I don't watch anything on HBO or Showtime. Those shows may be awesome too, but I can't swear to it.
So we've been hearing great things about Burn Notice, and it begins here in October. It has Bruce Campbell in it. I mean, my God. I have to watch it. I'm a huge Bruce Campbell fan -- even more so since Bubba Ho-tep, only the best horror-comedy ever made!
Now here's the problem (and it makes my brain hurt). Bones = Tuesdays, 10pm. Supernatural = Tuesday, 10pm. No problem so far, right? We have a TiVo, so we record one, and then watch it right after the other show finishes up. But just wait.
Torchwood = Tuesdays, 10pm. Now there's a problem. But it gets worse. Burn Notice = Tuesday, 10pm. *headdesk* When the first two shows come back from hiatus, we are so screwed. (But maybe they'll be staggered so we can just alternate? Maybe all four will never be running at the same time?!) Yeah, right. That'd just be too lucky.
Why TUESDAY?! The rest of the week, we've got nothing to watch, practically. Is this some kind of cosmic joke? (Is it possible to hook up multiple TiVOs to the same TV?) How would you guys solve this? These are all must-watch shows! What are your must-watch shows? And what would you do if they were all on at the same time, on the same night?
HALP!
Labels: tv goodness
