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Showing posts from December, 2006

more better promo

If snark isn't your bag, check out this amazing video Michelle Pillow made for the book. Oooo. Those bodies! OOOoooo
She sent me the html but it seemed to hate my blog, so sorry, link only.

Win a Copy of Taming Him!

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Kylie inspired me, so she gets the first entry to this
FABULOUS CONTEST

I love the cover but I love snark just as much.

Tell me what those people on that cover are saying (with no reflection of actual content of book)

The best entrant wins his or her own copy of this great Ellora's Cave/Pocket anthology!

an example: "listen, you keep those spike heels outta my groin, honey, and I won't dislocate your kneecap with my super-strong fingers."

Kylie's entry: "You know,... a dab of clear polish will stop that run, baby."


Contest ends ummmmmmm Tuesday, January 9th, which I think is the official release day of the book (it's already available). You have to be 18 or older to enter. Enter in the comments below!

UPDATE: no limit to the number of entries per person. Since I don't have a warning on this site, better make it PG13.
Heh. So far I think we're safe. . . some are mighty hot but safe!

UPDATE TWO: I'm getting some great hot, not-really-snark answers a…
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Oh boy!

I just got a notice from Amazon -- Taming Him is shipping. (I wonder if we'll get any author copies?) No way the cover fits "Perfection," the story I wrote. I can't wait to read Kimberly Dean and Michelle Pillow's stories to see which story it illustrates.

lissen, you keep those spike heels outta my groin, honey, and I won't dislocate your kneecap with my super-strong fingers.

Hey, I love the cover. It's entirely unapologetic.

enough with the dream gunk

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this is post 666! mwhahahaha. Appropriate number because the adults in this house caved to the dark side this year.

After years of resistance, we surrendered. . .






We bought a gaming console--a Wii for the offspring. (yo, I've only played that one game.)

Boy two, on my left, tallest offspring points out that boy one (on far right) only looks taller because he's standing on one of those mini-trampoline things.

To continue our tour of this photo, if you look at the tree, you'll see the duct tape of decor (grey circle) and the 1983 bagel. I'm wearing my father's Christmas vest. He got it from a friend and hated it and gave it to me. Or I stole it? I can't remember. It's the cheesiest, happiest vest ever with real shiny pearly things sewn onto it for snow flakes.
Also for the first time in recorded history, the boys and I made a gingerbread house that did not fall down. I get kits and the goddamn houses never stand up for more than a few seconds. This Trader Joe…

Personal blessings--long, dull Moment Of Truth

Listen, you might want to skip this one. It's dull, but I promised Margaret I'd get the details down--she's one of the rare people in the world who likes to read about dreams. But this dream was one of those gifts (from the subconscious, I suppose?) of existence. Won't translate into the real world as so why bother trying? Because it's always good to recall the fact that these are part of one's life.

Actually my favorite life's gift wasn't a dream; it was a moment when I was about 13 years old. Spring in Washington, DC which is a blessing in itself. No city I know does spring better.

Anyway, I sat by an open window and a dog barked and a bird's wings rustled and a phone rang --okay, okay, things liked this happened, I can't remember exactly what they were--and for a moment or maybe even several moments, I was part of the whole thing, a piece of the whole, the whole was a piece of me. I read the same thing in that damn Herman Hesse book a few years…

and congratulations to Summer

Bronwyn said congrats to Summer for being nominated for a CAPA and I said, "silly Bron, I wasn't nominated." I knew I hadn't been nominated because I checked the list a couple of times.

I did see a lot of friends who had been: Alexis Fleming, Sandy Blair, Laura Hamby, Bobbie Cole, Shannon Stacey, Arianna Hart (twice) and other people I bet I missed.

Apparently the brain fog is dense** because there's a Summer Book after all, Invisible Touch. Ha!

Congratulations to me and everyone else, too.

_________________

** although in my own defense, it is a long list!

ho ho ho SBD cartoon edition and dreams

Boy3 and I are lying around in bed watching our cartoons and thank goodness Dexter is coming on because we've seen two treacly and absolutely Bizarre Christmas cartoon short movies in a row. These shows are kind of like the two singing Christmas trees my good friend L has given me (and I've lent back to her). They were designed by space aliens who've been exposed to years of Christmas from afar and think they know the props and characters but not really. And omigod, these shows that feature dogs and bad guys and elves are musicals, too.

No, I'm sorry. Mr. Magoo as Scrooge is totally wierd.

Back to Dexter vs. Santa Claus. And yes, it is even farther removed. It's written by space aliens who only watched the space aliens' productions. But that's what we like about Dexter. He's shaving Santa! And there's Dad! And we learned that Christmas is all about The Presents. Now that's a space alien production that works.

And now Jimmy Neutron is saving Christ…

speaking of which, did you know

This week or last was some kind of International Delurker Week. Megan asked people for their favorite numbers and colors. I'll ask what's your least favorite number or color? My answers:

9 because I stank at the 9s timestable and everyone insisted it was the easiest
and
puce because the word is ewww and it is actually the color of flea's blood.
Or maybe that means it's my favorite color. Sometimes.

and another thing. . .

I miss Wenlock.
What is it with writers who decide to have lives and careers? I mean it--people like Stephen and Nonnie St. George (sob) should be given grants to write whatever they want and whenever they're in the mood.

snivel redux

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huh.

I don't usually interpret silence**, but for some reason, I wanna know what it means that no one's left messages under the pictures of me and the dog. I was expecting something along the lines of . . .
"Kate, what's with the bags under the eyes? Get some rest, woman."

"Dude, have you considered getting a manicure, and get one of those workout hand thingies guys use in B movies to look tough?"

"Where's your dog's face?"

In other news, I got a great present for the kids but I won't say what it is because they might still check this blog.

And Samhain is having a sale until December 24. You can buy ebooks at ummm [runs over to check] fifteen percent off the regular price!

No reviews of my latest book yet. No notes to Summer about how it isn't up to the standards of [previous title] or how it could have used [interesting plot twist]. Usually by now I have a couple of nice and/or peculiar emails.

My first theory: it wasn't bad enoug…

faster'n the pony express, maybe

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Wow. Telecommunications in the 21st century! I got a cell phone with a camera a few weeks back. I started messing around, taking and sending pictures to my email address. I figured I didn't know what I was doing because I didn't get the pictures.

They arrived this morning.

The only ones that aren't blurry messes feature me with dog. I was trying to show:
1. How much shinier dog fur is than my hair. (we both got the shine treatment)
2. The spot where my wedding ring left a dent (extra bonus feature--dog nose upper left)
I think I missed an important notice about life and writing. I got left behind. I'm feeling like one of those people who walk up to nearly every conversation and interrupt with "huh? what?" and everyone waits for her to go away so they can talk again. And to complete the self-pity portrait, I have to go microwave my version of Beth's wilson.

The good news is we all survived last night's concert. Only three more to go. Oh and I did get saag paneer for supper so life can't be all that bad.

Thursday Thirteen FAQ

These really are the most frequently asked-of-me questions.

1. Where do you get your ideas? (Jodi just asked me this yesterday!)
I get most of my ideas about three blocks south and west of my house. When I'm having trouble with a plot, I go for a walk and something usually comes to me.

2. Who's your agent?
Emily Sylvan Kim. I love her. I hope some day to make us both lots of money. (aw, jeez, I hope I didn't jinx anything by writing that.)

3. What does Hilary Sares like?
Nice heroes. If I knew more details than that, I'd probably write the book she absolutely hadto buy.

4. I have an idea for a book. It's a great idea but I don't want to write it myself. Can you? Or do you know anyone who will write it for me?
No, thank you for thinking of me though. Check these people out.

5. What kind of money to you make?
Not much and I never know from month to month. Sometimes I get surprised by a check for a foreign sale. Not any more and never often enough. Oh, Lordy, don't ge…

more blog hopping

I've been visiting writing blogs and found the latest kerfuffle described over at Sybil's. I'd never heard of Godwin's law and I like it.

I also read a bunch of FAQs at authors' blogs and I can't help noticing that none of the FAQs are questions I'd want to ask (I probably would anyway). Here's a sample of a few standard questions:
Where were you born?
What inspired you to become a writer?
Who are your favorite authors?
That kind of thing. My questions would probably be . . .well, if anything were fair game I might ask:
Have you ever been involved in an online discussion in which you compared your opponent to terrorists or nazis?

House in 12 seconds

disclaimer: I love Hugh Laurie and the show is great fun even if it did give boy 3 nightmares for weeks.

A link to House, every episode. Really.

advertorial

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Ta Da!
It's RELEASE DAY for a SUMMER DEVON e-book, Revealing Skills!


Go! buy! read!
Enter the contest at end of e-book! Get another book! And good chocolate!


So, over at Bam's a while back there was a discussion about the cover. Do you think the cover model looks like Natalie Imbruglia, Anna Paquin, Tori Amos or Geena Davis?

window shrink wrapping 101

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motivation:
80-year-old drafty house with bad windows. Outside temps below 20 F
with high winds seem to be oozing into the house. Why look! The curtains are moving.

ingredients:
special sheets of plastic (clear)
double-sided sticky tape, approx 1/2" wide, endless length, with white plastic paper on one side so it's usuable.

action:
Put sticky tape down so that it runs along all four sides of window pane with no gaps. The trick is to make sure the whole window, including as much of the ledge as possible, is covered. The sheet of plastic will prove to not be large enough and you'll have to reapply the tape.

Pull off protective white top layer on tape, accidentally detaching the tape from window. Try to reattach tape to wood and not your fingers, then pick out dog hair that gets caught on now-exposed, twisted sticky tape.

Take big sheet of plastic and try to attach it to sticky tape. Fail. Pull it off and try again, only this time using a new, unripped piece of plastic. Settle for cr…

Kvetching and Moaning

Two concerts down, four more to go. GODDDDamn, I hate concert season.

The sweet voices? Love them. My kids? Love them too.

The rest? I hate concert season. The parking-three-blocks-away-on-a-cold-night, the orchestra's endless pieces, the band's endless pieces, the singers (not endless, because those voices are so lovely, even doing horrible holiday medleys and singalong Rudolph), the national anthem (wtf?) and occasionally, the Fruited Plain song. Wartime made this township particularly patriotic.

Each section punctuated by the announcements from administrators about how wonderful the teachers are. Teachers announcing how wonderful the school system is, how supportive the school administration is, how wonderful our kids are, how wonderful we are for driving our kids in to practice. We are to give ourselves a round of applause for being so wonderful. The concerts last, no kidding, a few hours.

Yes, the teachers, the school, the kids are wonderful. It's just the concerts and cr…

Stuff

Here's one way to tell the difference between me and Nora Roberts. I'll bet you a dollar that when cold weather comes around, she doesn't shrink wrap her windows. Actually I find it a relaxing process, and the hair dryer scares the bejeebers out of the dog. heh. Damn, my great graphic won't load.



* * * *
Remember the pedophile? And the letters sent home to every elementary and middle school family in town?

That didn't take long. On December 5th, outraged residents assemble with tar and feathers. . .nah. It's the 21st century. We just shove guys like that out of town. Somebody Else's Problem. Kind of a relief it wasn't worse--I imagine it's exactly the outcome the police and the superintendent hoped for (in the article the super said he "felt a moral mandate" to send out the letter).

We don't truck to none o' that particularly nasty criminal kind 'round here. We got Wild Oats and Whole Foods in this town! And boutiques! And a bakery…

Lyvvie's meme

another meme and it's another list. They're good things, lists, and memes keep me from having to think about what to write.
This one is tough: Six Weird Things about Me is hard because I know I'm utterly normal. Does that count as number one? But I am, dammit.

1. I'm the absolute most normal person on this planet. On a scale of 1-10, I'm 5. On "yes, maybe, no," I'm maybe. On "strongly approve, somewhat approve, no opinion, somewhat disapprove, strongly disapprove" I'm somewhat approve to somewhat disapprove on bad days. On the color wheel, I'm between cerulean blue and cobalt, sky blue but not at sunset or sunrise and not on a cloudless day. Not a blue that anyone would remark upon unless there've been days of rain. The kind of sky that takes up a lot of space. (I still need to lose weight)

2. I used to have rituals that made no sense. I'd walk around a particular building twice before going in, and if the door I used was locked…

stolen from Shannon

A holiday meme.

1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate? both, but not together. I think? Hmm. Maybe I'll try that. .
2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? Until last year he just shoved everything under the tree and then the husband asked boy aged 8 if he wanted to help. Oops. BA8 hadn't known the truth. Whoowee were the other two kids pissed off at us. They'd done a careful job maintaining the myth.
3. Colored lights on tree/house or white? We have white and only on the tree. We like to see lights that are colored on everyone else's house. We love the huge blow up things in front of our neighbors' houses. Love. Them.
4. Do you hang mistletoe? No. Dog would eat the berries I bet.
5. When do you put your decorations up? Sometime nearish Christmas. When we are bored one day, usually on a weekend.
6. What is your favorite holiday dish? Mary's sweet potatoes, but that's for Thanksgiving. We don't do a big meal at Christmas. It used to be an extended f…

Helpful Hint

If you're going to listen to a book on CD on your computer, make sure you've turned off your audio player's music scramble.

It's pitiful how many tracks had played before I figured out there was a problem.

SBD, generic edition

Jeez. I'm in a bad mood--I'm not selling anything, and I want to sell books to publishers, dammit. So I feel like bitching, but other than that. . .hmmm. . . the whine isn't flowing freely as usual.

How about a sex kvetch? I read yet another book where sex was the only bond between the hero and heroine. Lots of hot, creamy (god, I hate the cream. The heroines all have flipping yeast infections. Goop shouldn't be pure cream all the time, y'all) sex. No shared humor, no knowing glances other than the "I want you NOW" kind. I'm frickkin sick of one track minds. Tension is fun, but it's not the only reason to exist.

Okay, that's an old, used up SBD. Everyone's talking about that.

How about Stephanie Plum? Have I moaned about her before?

That'll make a nice change of bitch pace.

Just as I was ready to call it a day on Evanovich's character, Evanovich got the message. Plum is no longer TSTL. She has matured. She's better at her job. Th…
remember my indignant carryings-on about the note sent home from school? I emailed the principal and every member of the school board. It turned out to be a letter sent to all the middle school parents, too, so the principal wasn't to blame.

I never got a single response from any of them. Not a word.

Every time I email someone inside the school system I don't get an answer. Teachers, administrators--doesn't matter. They never ever respond. And no, I know what you're thinking, I'm not a crank. My friend L, who is also not a crank, also doesn't get responses from them. Bah.

okay, so anyone tell me how to make a search within blogger?

I keep making reference to my promo post and then have to go back and back to find it.

Plus I mean, there are other posts I like. Recipes. The three pussies and a cock post. Those sorts of things. Anyone want to tell a noob like me what to do? I've looked and can't find it. Clueless one.

UPDATE:
Bad news--The comment from Beth confirms it's true; I can't find my ass with both hands.
Um, Kate? At the top of your blog - I'm looking at it right now - is a dark blue navigation bar. There's a little box to type in. Next to the little box, it says SEARCH THIS BLOG". If you type something into there and click the "search this blog" button, you get your results.

Good news--We went to the library and they have every episode of "Firefly."

peacock without much conviction

Another hair post! How boring--I am vain about my hair. It's not my fault, I tell you. When I wear it down and brush it, a rare event, people tell me how gorgeous it is. They ooh and ahh. . . Of course it's a nice, innocuous compliment about appearance. Can't exactly say to someone "Wow, your breasts look great today. Get a new bra?"

The hair doesn't just attract compliments. I've been told I'm too old to have long hair, which naturally made me rethink the haircut I'd been planning to get. If it's not exposing lots of skin, then any fashion labeled too old is just silly, thank you. (If it is exposing lots of skin, a fashion is probably too silly for most of the population, young and old.) If I wanted to, I'd even claim the right to wear Mary Hartman puffed sleeves--and that tells you how old I really am. PPPffth on any who say we can't, shouldn't, mustn't.

Back to the hair.

Since I'm into passing the buck, allow me to add that…

hey

We're watching a CD we got from the library--Firefly--and we're liking it. How come this didn't get big? Huh? It's very cool.


UPDATE: The boys are using their precious screen time to watch it AGAIN. And it's actually holding up. Love the little touches like the Chinese influence and the music. . .and the adaptation of all the old west stereotypes. I say it's a crime that shows like Trump's Apprentice thrive and this goes pppppppppfffff

I feel like I do when I discover a new author on par with Loretta Chase.

UPDATE 2: The tense lawman and hostage scene and Mal, walking onto the ship, ends it without breaking stride and then tosses the body overboard. Omigod. That is fantastic. It's better than that Indiana Jones and the pistol moment. And Wash with the Dinosaurs. "We shall call this land. . .'This Land'"

What were those Fox types thinking? Cancellation of this show is an even more egregious offence than the fact that they give Bill O'Re…

Hmmmm

This gist of this post made me roll my eyes until I got a serious headache.

Why? Because I'm willing to bet my next huge contract that the writer would have the same response I would: If I wrote a book and two different publishers said they wanted it--an ebook publisher and a NYC publisher--I'd go for the print NYC publisher.

And this despite a lot of factors: I love the ebook people I deal with, the ebook process overall is more personal (they care about my input on covers! wow!), I think ebooks will be huge[r] soon, and I don't have a bee up my butt about the whole thing--that is, I don't have a need for the validation of being in print.

I'm willing to think about my career in long-term and I think publishers like Samhain are the future, but my family wants money and except in rare cases (some EC writers, I hear?), the NYC publisher gives an author more money and more recognition and that's a seriously important bottom line for people who want to be professional…