Apparently, people come here looking for different things. Here's the top ten searches this month:

#1 LOLCats (check)

#2 BJ jokes (there was the one about the penguin and the seal...)

#3 Laura Bradford + agent (Just email me. I'll be happy to answer questions, so you don't have to lurk, hoping for tidbits of info)

#4 lite bondage (Hmm. No. Unless you mean in My Valentine, and in which case... yes.)

#5 wwnd, nora (Archives, april or may, I think)

#6 ann aguirre (that's me!!! you came to the right place!)

#7 dangling dick pix (Come on, really? I thought I had made it crystal clear how I feel about candids of the dangly bits.)

#8 girlie sci-fi (check)

#9 gaudy purses (oh, double check!)

And #10... you ready?

emo olympics.

I must've used that phrase or something, but I'm pretty sure there is no such thing. Sorry, it's just a figure of speech. But what events would that involve? Sighing, painting your nails black, leaning on stuff, letting your hair fall in your eyes, and piercing random body parts? Anyhow, it's been too long since I posted a hot emo boy for your pleasure.

His name is Romeo (really? well, that's what his profile says), and he's from El Salvador. He likes long walks on the beach (at night!) and listening to the Cure; and his turnoffs include sunlight, bright clothing, and people who smile a lot. (I just made most of that up.)

Enjoy.


PS - You're allowed to admire him in an aesthetic sense, but don't go thinking impure thoughts. He's only 17. But don't despair -- you can lust after Harry Potter legally now!

Seriously, though... (OMG, I can't believe I baited you in here with a hot emo boy pic and then sprang an issue on you! It's diabolical.) I was reading a story on Reuters called Older White Women Join Kenya's Sex Tourists. The gist is how well-to-do baby boomers in their 50s and 60s head to Kenya, and pick up some hot young 20-something. The ladies play sugar mama for the duration of their vacations, buying presents and providing walking around money for their boytoys while they're around.

"It's not love, obviously. I didn't come here looking for a husband," Bethan said over a pounding beat from the speakers.

"It's a social arrangement. I buy him a nice shirt and we go out for dinner. For as long as he stays with me he doesn't pay for anything, and I get what I want -- a good time. How is that different from a man buying a young girl dinner?"

I'm not quite sure how I feel about this. I mean, in one sense, it's clearly not prostitution. They're not exchanging currency directly for sex. It's a bit more muddied than that. Part of me wants to say, "Have fun!" to these adventurous old chicks. I mean, they're widowed or single, looking for a good time? If they can attract a hot stud with their bankrolls, why not?

However, I do think it's creepy when old dudes keep chasing young tail, so why do I think it's ok for a woman to get some this way? That makes me feel like I have a double-standard, which I don't like to admit.

Do these men feel devalued? Or are their lives such that they're just happy to get what they get out of it? What bothers me is inequity or imbalances in power in a relationship, but this is more of a vacation fling, so as long as both parties are legal, single, and nobody gets hurt, what's the harm?

And is it really any different than a rich old dude flashing his bankroll and picking up some young honey? I don't know. Readers, what do you think?

Labels: brooding emo boys, google-what?, random

Well, maybe you don't care, but I'm telling you anyway. Here's what we have in store.

I've enjoyed my time off, but with My Valentine in the can, it's time for me to get back to work. On Monday, I'll be starting Doubleblind, book three in the Sirantha Jax series. Just fyi, I'll be doing my usual 3K a day until done, which will mean I won't be blog surfing much. If you want me, look for me here or via email. I'll still be blogging, of course, and I always answer emails. You know where to find me.

More exciting news.

My agent has a new website design, and I'm too thrilled to be on the homepage. Go on, click it! How cool is that? Gorgeous design, and there's Grimspace, looking mighty fine, if I do say so myself.

Oh, my editor's assistant, Cam, emailed me to tell me that I'm getting Grimspace proofs. Since she overnighted them, I should have them by Monday. I'm so excited over that, I can't stand it.

EDIT: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! The FedEx man just delivered my proofs. I'm looking at them RIGHT NOW. I have a title page, dedication, acknowledgments...

It's SO beautiful!

Holy crapweasels. My contracts from Laura arrived at 1:42pm.

The goodness hasn't stopped either. The postman just brought me this:

Now I can read the Sonchai books over the weekend! Damn, it's been a good day. I think I need to buy a lottery ticket!

My writing gig has landed on the Autobahn, and I'm so on board.

And you know what? There's more. But I'm not talking. Yet. Have a great weekend, everyone!

Labels: random, WIP, writing

Life is change.

That's not an arguable point. No matter whether we want changes or not, our lives are constantly in a state of flux. There's a certain charm to being adaptable, being able to roll with the punches. I'd call that a handy skill.

But sometimes people and events array themselves in what seems to be the perfect way. What if you don't want that to realign into some formation that's less than what you had? Now at this point, I could say a bunch of junk about that being good practice, and you never know what's around the next bend, it could be better still, right?

But the truth is, sometimes I feel like a little kid. And I want to demand, "Why?! Why can't things stay the same? I like my life this way."

I acknowledge the selfishness of that response, however. It would be wrong of me to limit other people's growth just because I like the niche they occupy in my life. So I don't cling anymore. And when I see people drifting away, I just let them go. Sometimes it's hard to do so cheerfully, but it's better than petulance. Though it took me years to figure out, I've come to accept that things just never stay the same, no matter how good they were (or how bad).

There comes a point when I just have to step back because I'm not getting out of something what I put into it. That realization necessitates a quiet withdrawal that never fails to make me sad, but it's better than riding the drama llama into an unwinnable confrontation. You can't get an answer to a question like, "How come you don't care as much as you used to?"

Sometimes I wonder if it's something I do wrong, whether I just don't have the knack for long-term friendships. People latch onto me for a short time, wring out all the support and encouragement they need, and then just wander away. It is, truly, a puzzlement. If I could stop being hurt by this, I could consider myself truly enlightened. It would be enough that I'm helping people when they need it. And really, that's okay too. I live largely inside my own head anyway.

Forgive the gloom, good readers. I examined my heart as to what I had to say today, and this was it. I'll entertain you better on the morrow.

Labels: random, sad-making

So how important are titles, really? Would a bestseller by any other name still smell as sweet? Let's examine some plucked randomly from the NYT list, past and present, and find out.

NINJAS AND DEMONS by Dan Brown
Huh. Is it wrong to say I like this one better? I bet I'd have liked a book that could live up to this moniker better as well.

SHY POON by Nora Roberts
With this title, could the book be about anything other than the virgin spinster librarian and the town physician (and secret internet porn star) who loves her? He'll have to convince her that her underused va-jay-jay is just what the doctor ordered.

DEVIL MAY SULK by Sherrilyn Kenyon
Can't get enough emo? This story is for you! The hero will sit in a corner, arms folded and glare at you during commercial breaks. He was emo when emo wasn't cool.

A THOUSAND NASTY NUNS by Khaled Hosseini
Yep, this would've been a much different book. Good reading, though, I suspect, but it might've gotten Mr. Hosseini whatchallit'd. Excommunicated? The Pope might've taken off his pointy hat and everything to lay the smackdown.

INEBRIATED IN DEATH by J.D. Robb
Eve gets drunk at the precinct Christmas party and nearly stabs a bitch. Roarke has to use his money and connections to get her off the hook because there's a killer preying on drunken women, and they need Eve on the other side of the cell. What? It could happen!

THE BISCUIT by Rhonda Byrne
Need to know the secret to winning your man's heart? It's all here in this Southern cookbook.

THE ELVES OF CILANTRO by Terry Brooks
Where Mexican fey come to Shannara. Need I say more? This one writes itself, I think.

FORCE OF MANURE by Suzanne Brockmann
An ex-Navy seal buys a pig farm in Arkansas, wanting to leave all the violence behind him. But when danger comes to his sleepy little town, he's not afraid to fight dirty, country-style.

CUTICLE by Robin Cook
The medical world has never known a crisis like this one. Every second, millions of people suffer from this insidious illness and there is no cure for... HANG NAILS. We need a manicurist, stat!

STAY THIRTY by Sandra Brown
A woman gets caught breaking into the municipal building, determined to erase all records of her true age. Now that she's 50+, she's finding it harder to date younger guys, but if she could just wipe her file, she could... STAY THIRTY forever.

THE FRENCH FRY LANDS by S.M. Sterling
A book about America, duh.

Look like fun? Go here, and then you do one! I had a blast with these.

Tomorrow, I have Pepper Espinoza, author of the ass-kickingly dark and wonderful Mad World, as my special guest. You won't want to miss it.

Labels: books, random

This post is going to be a mishmash of stuff I need to mention, but which aren't worthy of a whole post. Therefore, expect this to be more disjointed than usual.

First, I am in no danger from the hurricane. I am touched and heartened by the outpouring of concern via email, but Cozumel is a good long way from Mexico City. Think Ohio to Florida. However, I feel all Sally Field about it. "You like me! You really like me!" Well, maybe some of you hope I'll get swept out to sea, but it ain't happenin' this week.

Second, I added a bunch of new links to my blogroll, people whose blogs I visit regularly, and who stop by here often as well. If you haven't been added yet, it's not because I don't love you. Just email me, and I'll make it happen. I don't have any of that mystic backlink magic other people possess. If you read my blog quietly, decide it's becoming a favorite, and add me to your sidebar and/or blogroll, I won't know unless you tell me. I don't have any inclination to track that and have five red lights go off in my inbox each time Google does something with my name.

Third, Deena has added a couple of new pages (FAQ and Appearances) to my Ann Aguirre site. Check it out, especially the FAQ page. If something isn't covered, ask in comments, and I'll make sure my answers are incorporated in the new batch of updates.

Fourth, I got my RWR for August this afternoon (like a month behind everyone else), but I got it. Yay! I love getting this. I think I'm gonna buy an ad for Grimspace on the front inside cover, full color. Just because. And I'll beg April to design it. Anyway, inside this issue, there's something called "Calling All Workshop Presenters", so I read it. And they're taking applications for workshops / panels in SF next year. The deadline is November 1. Part of me says, "Oh no. Not just no, hell no." But another part of me says, "You know, it would be good experience. You should put something together."

Well, this is not a completely asinine idea. I was President of Thespians, for goodness sake. I was on the debate team. So I'm not a novice at public speaking, although it's been years. I'm also doing panels at OmegaCon in March, so I'll have gotten my feet wet once before RWA. Whether that's good or bad, I have no idea.

So do you guys think? Should I do it? Never mind the fact that I need to have a 6 book series proposal done by Sept 15, along with requested revisions on the first book. And never mind that I have a novel contracted that needs to be finished by Dec 1. And surely let's don't mention all the marketing and publicity stuff, or the stuff my kids keep expecting me to do. Like feed them. Hehe.

No, really. I'm a master of getting shit done, so I'm positive I can put together a panel before November 1. But should I? Part of my hesitation is that I'm not sure who to invite to participate in it alongside me. But ok, if someone else has something already cooking and you need another author, email me! I'd totally love to hitch a ride on your presentation. Er, I mean collaborate with you on whatever you like. Cos I'm easy like that. Well. Y'know.

To recap, post questions in comments that you'd like to see answered on my website. Asking anonymously is fine. And get back to me on the SF RWA panel thing. I need guidance. I am a little lamb lost in the wide...yeah, whatever. You get it.

Whew. I think that's enough for one day. If there's more, it'll keep.

PS -- a random commenter will win an e-ARC of Boundless. You'll get it on my birthday, August 27, a full week before anyone else can read those yummy stories. How nice am I? I'm fixin' to give someone else a present on my big day. Get commenting!

Labels: contest, random

I was listening to Leonard Cohen last night. If you don't know who he is, listen to The Future. He's a spoken word poet turned musician who has this amazing, gravelly voice that makes my toes curl even though I know he's like 75. That does not, however, stop him from being a total pimp. Somewhere back in the 90s, when he was in his 60's he went on some talk show, maybe Letterman, and arrived with Rebecca DeMornay on his arm. They were engaged, no joke. I don't think they actually got married, she woke up one morning and said, "Dude. He's 65, even if he has the voice. Maybe I better not go there."

Imagine if some old lady was sporting a boytoy on her arm, some 35 years younger. Would we think she was a pimpette or a dirty old lady? I totally want to be as cool as Leonard Cohen, even when I'm old. You ever notice that some people age and others just get old? I really don't want to turn into some old bat that talks about (a) people's gall bladders and (b) my own gall bladder and (c) how many people I know that have died. And then old people wonder why relatives never come see them. I hope somebody has the heart to shoot me if I ever get like that.

This is pertinent because of the cranky old guy who lives next door to me. We live next door to the Consulate of Nepal. Yes, he's actually a government official and he handles the complaints of Nepalese citizens living in Mexico. He's like the embassy, only smaller. There has to be a certain population to support an embassy. Otherwise you get a cranky old dude as your "Consulate."

So I'm totally in an old school vendetta against this guy, even though I didn't actually start it. Apparently the cranky old dude who lived in my house (before I moved in two years ago) put the trash basket too close to his front gate as a mortal insult. (We have high-off-the-ground wrought iron baskets, very decorative, hung on posts, where you put the trash because there are a lot of wild dog packs in the city that roam the street and will get into the bags if you let them.) Since the pole the basket hangs on is rooted in the ground on a cement block, old Mr. Nepal had best get over it because we're not moving it. Our failure to move said basket (even though its lodged in the ground on a cement block!) seems to have sparked Vendetta No 2. Now he bitches at me anytime he catches me outside, sometimes in his drawers, usually regarding what's IN my trash basket. Honestly, I'm not in charge of the trash in my household. My maid takes it out and the garbage guys collect it on a daily basis.

But old Mr. Nepal will come out of his house to bitch because it's not tidy enough. I'm like, "What the hell, it's TRASH. You want a ribbon on it?" Then he will further cheese me off by saying, "Have your girl take care of it." That makes me want to sock him in the jaw because my "girl" is probably fifty and she's a very nice lady who works twice as hard as anyone else I know because her husband is disabled. The lack of respect in his tone makes me want to kick him. So I put out a bunch of really stinky meat the next day since I'm not allowed to go around starting international incidents with the Nepalese Consulate.

This glimpse into my life serves as a segue, believe it or not. See, I put this Google code on my site, and now I know where my readers are. And to my amazement, I have a BUNCH of them. They must lurk because they don't comment, but wow, was I excited. I am international, baby! The keyword is "international." Say it with me, boys and girls.

So here's a shout to my readers, worldwide. Yo, I got people in Tokyo, Seoul, Kampong Bujit Hijau, Aalsmeer, Galway, York, and of course all over the US, Canada and Mexico. What, no love from Australia? Damn. I gotta work harder. So here's the thing, my sweet lurking friends. I want you to say hi, even anonymously cos I'm happy as hell you're here.

PS - If you came here looking for Ebook Thursday, check on Bam's site. I've got a review over there.

Labels: Ebook Thursday, random