It's Perfectly Simple

Current Mood: Anticipating the weekend

Playing on the iPod: "Indestructible" by Disturbed

1. Tonight, I gave Starshine explicit instructions after dinner: "Go upstairs, brush your teeth for TWO MINUTES, then get in bed and do your reading."

2. Starshine managed the first, then got sidetracked with the idea of messing around with Daredevil in my bathroom (Daredevil's explicit instructions included taking a shower.)

3. This required me to go upstairs and intervene to get everyone back on track. I shooed Daredevil into the shower, then turned to Starshine and said, "Go brush your teeth."

4. He replied, "Okay, but first I have to destroy Massachusetts."

5. Of course.

6. However, Starshine learned a valuable lesson: Dental Hygiene and Appropriate Bedtimes trump plans for World Domination (everyone knows you have to conquer Massachusetts to get anywhere) every time.

7. I was awarded an "I Love Your Blog" nomination from one of my readers (Chiron).

8. I'm honored!

9. The instructions include copying the icon, pasting it on my blog, then nominating other blogs I love and going to their blog to leave a comment so they know about their prize.

10. I've been too busy to pull it all together, but I will. I don't know if I'll choose 7 or more blogs like others have done, simply because I rarely have time to consistently read so many, but I'll certainly bestow the honor on my particular favorites (Brace yourself, Florida Girl, you're on the list.)

11. I'm pulling a looooong night of writing tonight to make up for the shambles of a schedule that was my pathetic attempt at revision this week.

12. I promised a particular agent I would get this ms. to her this week, and I have three others patiently waiting so I'll prop up my flagging energy with caffeine (though not toooo much...I want my writing to actually make sense) and stay up as long as I can manage, then finish it off in the morning if necessary.

13. Tonight, Daredevil needed math homework help.

14. It's a bit humbling to realize that much of 3rd grade math is beyond me (at least if you need to know the PROPER way to show your work...), and facing 5th grade math (for the Scientist) is an excellent way to inspire a mass extermination of brain cells I'm pretty sure I need.

15. My hubby handles all the math questions around here. I'm the go to girl for speech writing, paragraphs, vocabulary, and spelling.

16. Also, my hubby handles arts and crafts, but that's another post entirely.

17. Anyway, my hubby was helping Daredevil with his math homework, getting him to show his work (using the teacher-prescribed method), when he hit a stumbling block.

18. He spent another minute on it, then turned to me and said (in what MAY be his famous last words): "I need a simple math mind for this. Come here."

19. Turns out, he was making the solution too complicated. I don't have that problem.

20. He's lucky he has so many redeeming qualities.

21. Reader Question: What was your favorite subject in school? Does it still influence your life in any way?

Hoist The Bobble Heads!

I've decided the undergarment industry could do with some "Change We Can Believe In" campaigns of their own. For starters, I'd like at least one company to realize that gravity is a harsh mistress who attacks more than just the breasts.

Furthermore, my breasts are not the only things than need lifting and separating. There's the matter of my derriere. Also, I believe I'm passing the point where the lifting and separating of my breasts is any kind of solution at all.

Separation is no longer a problem. It's corralling them both into a semblance of their original position and then holding them there that causes difficulty. And I don't need a garment that promises lift. I need one that is prepared to hoist.

I need NASA to take on the undergarment world. I figure if NASA can master g-force and rocket thrust, break through our atmosphere and defy gravity, they ought to be able to design a bra that makes me look like my breasts aren't going south for the winter. Perhaps they could use some sort of pliable metal so that I'm not only hoisted into position, I'm not in danger of catching a stiff breeze and poking out the eye of someone behind me as my breasts fly willy-nilly over my shoulders.

It's like having two organically-grown bobble head dolls permanently attached to my body.

Voting, Public Service Announcements, & Cake

1. I think it's cool that my local bookstore is giving away free drinks from their coffee shop to anyone who votes today.

2. Unfortunately, by the time I work all day, then stand in line to vote, then run home to make dinner...I won't have the time or energy to run out for coffee. :)

3. Worked on more revisions last night. Most of it is little stuff now. Just a few plot points to clean up.

4. I've opened a new doc and am copying and pasting each chapter, reading through it, making any corrections, then moving on.

5. I didn't use this method for polishing up DTR, but then again, I barely revised DTR, more's the pity.

6. I'll be entering SF in the Golden Heart this year, though I don't know if I can attend the conference ... might conflict with our trip to China.

7. I've asked my hubby to make a castle cake for me for my birthday.

8. He seems less than thrilled with that prospect.

9. Perhaps if I offer to pay?

10. I need to take a trip to Chicago sometime in the next year as research for the series following Fate.

11. I know, tough life, right?

12. I'm getting emailed offers from various people asking if I'd like to feature this, that, or the other on my blog.

13. Sometimes I say yes, sometimes I say no, but here's a little piece of instruction for anyone hoping to be interviewed/have their product featured/experience their 6.3 seconds of fame (It's only 15 seconds if you make it on something like Letterman):

14. When I ask you for specific details/dates etc., GIVE THEM TO ME.

15. When I ask you questions to potentially be put up on the blog, ANSWER THEM AS IF YOU ARE A DECENT, INTELLIGENT HUMAN BEING.

16. If I follow up on my initial email with yet ANOTHER email asking for clarification and/or details you failed to give me the first time around and you STILL don't comply, feel free to read this blog 'til I turn 89, accept my crown as the Geriatric Sequined Wonder, and cut myself off from the ethernet--you still won't see mention of your name here.

17. Also, it's okay to say you've stumbled across my blog through my link on [name appropriate writer's site]. It's not okay to pretend to be a reader of the blog when you aren't.

18. If you're a regular reader, you should know the definition of the following words: Starshine, 9-4, and Zooweemama. Also, you should know the name of my current manuscript.

19. This has been a public service announcement.

20. Reader Question: What kind of cake should my hubby make for my birthday? All ideas are welcome.

Get Me Started! - #2

*From Jen's first sentence.*

Some days, life hands you roses. Other days it manhandles you, bludgeons you over the head, then dumps you face first in the crapper.

This day was shaping up to be the latter. Not that many of my days recently have been anything to write home about--as if Dad would let Mom open my letters--but still, on a Days I'd Love To Erase scale of one to ten, this one was heading for twenty.

Fast.

It all started at seven a.m. with the goat. Not that my useless boss, so far into a bottle of Jack Daniels he could've given a brewery a run for its money on smell alone, didn't contribute. And I'm not discounting the obnoxious blonde with her I Took Out A Loan The Size of Kentucky breasts. Her little rat-dog holds a fair amount of responsibility too.

Still, at the heart of my problems lurked a barnyard animal with horizontal eyes, teeth the size of nickels--all the better to rip your Coach handbag apart, my dear!--and zero respect for anyone's personal space. It was the goat's fault. I was sure of it.

Trying to convince the irritated police officer facing me across the smooth steel surface of the table in Interview Room A was another matter. He was the no-nonsense, wear a badge for life type who'd heard every excuse in the book and wasn't buying any of them.

"A goat?" If he'd been trying to scrub his tone clean of any trace of mockery, he'd failed.

"Yes. A big one." My fingers drummed against the table until I ordered them to stop. When they started again, I shoved my hands in my lap and put on what I hoped was my best I Am Not A Crazy Person face.

"And where is this goat now?" He asked, shuffling the many witness statements piled in front of him, as if the goat's location would magically appear.

I was pretty sure most of those statements said things like "set an historic monument on fire," "screamed nonsense at the top of her lungs," or--and for this I had no regrets--"stuffed an I Heart NY bandanna into an irritating blonde's mouth, thus silencing her for thirty blessed seconds."

"I don't know."

"Do you usually walk around Manhattan with a goat, Ms. Ledbetter?"

"Of course not."

"Could you identify the goat in a line-up?" He asked, his tone thick with amused sarcasm. "Maybe work with our sketch artist to put a composite together?"

"Very funny."

"No, it isn't funny, Ms. Ledbetter. You've destroyed a chunk of property, much of it historic, offended the sensibilities of the mayor's wife--"

"That shrieking harpy was the mayor's wife?"

"Singed most of the hair off her dog," he went on as if I'd never interrupted, "and robbed her of a diamond ring worth well over a million dollars. There's nothing funny about that."

"The dog part was sort of funny," I said, before the realization kicked in that sarcasm was unlikely to earn me a Get Out Of Jail Free card.

"I don't want to hear another ridiculous story about goats knocking over Jack Daniels and chewing through purses. I want to know where Mrs. Harper's diamond ring is. Turn that over to us, and we can cut you a deal." His dark eyes were stern.

"That's easy. The goat--"

"No more about the goat!"

"Swallowed the ring," I finished and watched his face turn an unbecoming shade of red.

"Are you telling me you fed Mrs. Harper's million dollar diamond to a goat?" His voice rose on every syllable until he was shouting in my face.

"No. I'm telling you Mrs. Harper dropped the ring while scrambling around trying to control her miniature terror--"

"Terrier."

"Terror. And the goat was already eating everything in sight. He swallowed the ring, the fire started," here I decided to remain rather vague as to the cause, "and by the time you all decided to arrest me for theft and vandalism, he was gone."

"Ms. Ledbetter--"

"I'm telling the truth. Find the goat and you'll find the ring."

He sighed, scrubbed his hands over his face, and stood. "Stay here."

"I didn't realize I had a choice," I said.

He scooped up the witness statements and walked toward the door. "I can't believe I'm about to put out an APB on a goat."

Smell New York City

This idea is just strange enough to be alluring. I wonder what scents they'd have to box up to encompass Nashville?

Want Me To Test Drive A Mustang For 7 Years?

Yesterday, I mentioned on my facebook status (Hot Tamales!) and on a Twitter update (Yes, I've finally caved and am on Twitter. Please do NOT expect me to ever utter the asinine statement "I'm twittering." That's not a verb.) ... where was I? Oh, yes, I mentioned that I don't think I actually like Jordan Almonds (Chanel Pistol Heels!) all that much, but I find them addicting.

I think it's the crunch and the combination (Hot Tamales!) of sweet and nut. I don't know. I don't think I care. (Chanel Pistol Heels!) I'm pretty sure you care even less.



Anyway, I got an email from someone who does marketing (Hot Tamales!) for ohnuts candy company wanting to send me free samples of Jordan Almonds so I could review them on my blog. I browsed their site, (Chanel Pistol Heels!) found two flavors of Jordan Almonds that looked interesting (cappuccino and cinnamon) and agreed.

Then my devious mind (Hot Tamales!) began scheming...are other marketers googling their product names, (Chanel Pistol Heels!) hoping to find a fan who will agree to sample stuff and then blog about it? If mentioning Jordan Almonds just once on this blog gained a marketer's attention (Hot Tamales!), would subtly mentioning other products (Chanel Pistol Heels!) work as well?



I decided it was worth a try. There are many worthy products out there, (Hot Tamales!), but only a few so amazing, I'd be willing to sacrifice my dignity (Chanel Pistol Heels!) and sell my blogging soul to own.

If this works, I may have to work in product names throughout various posts more often. Just think of the opportunities! Yankee Sparkling Cinnamon candles. Williams & Sonoma (any product will do). Cherry-red Mustang Convertible.

The possibilities are endless.

Shredded Cabbage, Anyone?

1. We have 543 pieces of candy in our house.

2. 543. Starshine and I counted them this morning.

3. That's obscene.

4. What's especially obscene is that a few misguided souls in our neighborhood thought Raisinets were an acceptable Halloween offering.

5. Raisins, little dried up globs of grape, are not candy. Not even if they're partially disguised with a chocolate coating. Or, perhaps, especially if they're partially disguised with a chocolate coating.

6. Although, that's hardly the worst thing I've ever seen plopped into an unwitting trick-or-treater's bag. One year, my gym teacher gave all of us a sandwich baggie full of raw broccoli.

7. That's an excellent way to get one's home egged.

8. Not that I ever did anything like that.

9. I'm in the final re-arrange, edit, polish stage for Shadowing Fate.

10. I'm very excited about the finished manuscript. It rocks.

11. In my humble opinion.

12. I'm scheduled for 34 hours at work this week.

13. Yay! for the money. Boo! for the time wasted there that could be spent writing, cleaning, ironing ...

14. Oh, alright. NOT ironing.

15. When I have a conversation with an agent offering representation and she asks me my career goals, one of the first things out of my mouth is going to be "One day I want to be able to afford weekly maid service."

16. Followed closely by, "Then, I want to be able to afford the World's Most Amazing Stiletto Collection.

17. Since my plan to take over the world using nothing but a ball of twine, a cloak, some pickled okra, and one very recalcitrant goat doesn't seem to be going anywhere, I'll have to sell my writing to get what I want.

18. Yesterday, I learned how to make enough coleslaw to feed 250 people.

19. I can't imagine how that skill will ever come in handy.

20. Reader Question: Where is the most interesting/amazing place you've ever been? What made it special?