kate rothwell

Just as I'd suspected, I have a double standard. Our latest book finally got a meh review (over at Goodreads) and the person writing it only mentioned Bonnie Dee, as in she seemed to indicate that Bonnie was the only author. This is something I've whined about before and I've always had the urge to say hey! hey! hey! I wrote it too. I do not have that urge at the moment, but I suppose I ought to say something. Right? I mean if I'm going to get all HEY and barge in when there are good reviews, I should about the other kind, too. Right? Yeah....especially since the reviewer didn't like the beginning of the book and I think (I have to look, though) that I was responsible for much of that writing.

So A Civil Campaign , which takes place on a distant planet in the future and Frederica , which is set in Regency England, are more alike than you'd expect. I'd actually pick up and consult the books for this comparison, but 1. I'm lazy 2. I just read them both** 3. the humor is my idea of fun, so I haven't forgotten those bits of the stories. Even though I'd stumble if someone asked me to sum up the Bujold book, because it was jammed with subplots, I did not forget that dinner scene. Nosirree. The plots, eh, in the end they're both all about marriage. Granted the plot of Civil Campaign is more convoluted and has more characters. But there's love and courtship and the humorous scene that I'm thinking of -- Miles's disastrous dinner party--reminded me of the Lufra the Barcelona Collie scene. The way the people dealt with the physical funny bits was what mattered most. Yup, the humor in both books is physical. A jumping dog vs. some jumping bugs and ...

I'll get around to SBD but first, I have a dilemma. I asked Mike what I should do and he said "I dunno. ask the facebook world." Eh. Well. It's less bizarro than those people asking if they should have a baby or not. . . My question: Do I save a tooth or yank it out? Here's its dental history. (Warning: ugh. Teeth. UGH) The thing had a cavity, then a bigger cavity. And then a root canal. And now it's acting up again. There's an infection at the very way bottom of the root. So the dentist said, okay it's dental surgery time. They go in via the gum and jaw and do things that I don't want to think about. I said what about just yanking the damn thing? He looked shocked, but he would being a dentist and all. I'm thinking the stupid tooth has had its chances and it keeps acting up. Maybe it's time to say goodbye. It's a molar sort of a tooth, maybe two or three one in from the last back tooth. That missing tooth look doesn't shock me. ...

Here's a fabulous recipe I found somewhere online: bag o' cranberries (I used a mix of frozen and fresh) 3 cups raspberries (trader joe's frozen for me) 1/2 cup sugar 1/3 cup crystallized ginger. Chop the ginger by hand (the food processor didn't manage it well for me.) then toss it and cranberries into food processor. Grind it up, but not to a pulp. Just enough. Add sugar and then sprinkle in the frozen raspberries (not need to thaw them), stir not too hard so most of the raspberries stay whole. Let it all sit for a few hours. Eat. Oh, boy. YUM.

O car, why do you require a new transmission? O dog, why do you need these visits to the vet? O children, what is this clamoring for new shoes? And, O WHY, do you want those presents next month? Alas, powerball ticket why are you so worthless?

I'm not going to think about this story I'm writing. I'm going to cruise around. . . and WOW, would you look at that? Straight from Lamebook, a dumb back and forth between Willow and some other people -- and then.... howdy, Bristol. My first response: five minutes of my life, gone, reading idiocy. The focus of the MSM article I read is the faggot and gay stuff. The fact that there was gay and faggot calling in that thread isn't even slightly shocking to me. Here in fancypants liberal enclave CT the middle schoolers still throw those words around easily. They're being trained, but the words are still there. What took me aback was how the Palin Jrs went snarling grizzly bear so fast. Aren't they used to that kind of trash talking by now? And come to think of it, the "hated the show" remark is hardly calling their mom a whore. Haven't the handlers taught them how to ignore bad press? Then I got smug. I happen to know my kids were raised better'n t...

I'm working at Borders (hi, Linda! hi, Helder! hi, Guy whose name I've forgotten--whoops) and I'm listening to Pandora as I write. The music was movie themed stuff and I notice that when I work to all that orchestrated splendor, my writing is always more fascinating and heroic....or so it feels as I thump out the words. Wait, it's not the writing that gets all glitterific. The characters transform into more than people. That uplifting effect is obvious in the movies themselves. What an unfair advantage, having audio to pump up your audience's response. Pfah. Anyway, I moved over to jazz and my characters were suddenly laid back and uninterested in the conversation. Too cool for school. Back to something neutral, maybe New Age. I don't want superheroes and I don't want schlubs. (I'll take Plain Old Interesting People for a thousand, Alex.)

I LOVE BOOKS> LOVE THEM, love them, love them. I love stories and collections of dry facts and poems and analysis (sometimes) and fluff and even that bio textbook that's been sitting on our dining room table since the beginning of time. I want to read them all---every single one. As long as there isn't a test at the end and as long as I don't have to retain the actual content anywhere in my mind, I'm there, baby.

A few years back I realized the problem with having no religion is that I don't have rituals. I needed my own Day of the Dead. Jarhzeit candles. Post the names and losses on the back of the church bulletin. Bow my head over some sort of altar. Some formal grieving. The point of that realization is that I had to make one, do something, or I'd never shake off the autumnal blues. Once I figured that out, well, it was almost as good as actually having the ritual. But I've never actually gotten around to evolving a ceremony. Bake a cake and each bite is a goodbye to something? Stand in front of a mirror and read aloud? I get the point of group rituals. The more people taking part, the less you feel like a silly person (though I must say the instances of grace I've felt were when I was alone). I think going into a field and looking at dead grass is the best I'll manage. Not bad, but not particularly lovely -- unless you count the field itself. That's pretty good. M...

I'm reluctant to post because it'll push our NEW BOOK down. For some reason, book releases and my books out there have become more exciting again. I wish to cradle the precioussssss excitement of hey! look! People! Look! A book! I helped write it! A BOOK! But tradition is important too, and it's Monday. SBD, bitches. I read a book -- or rather, I listened to one. It was my very first Lee Child Reacher book. Number five in the series, but I wasn't lost, which is great. I do like Reacher and I've decided he can get away with being a laconic killing machine because he doesn't get all angsty. The introspection is about as much as you'd expect from any normal sort of a person. So his life is basically like any0ne else's except he's nothing like anyone else. When he beats a guy up, that guy stays DOWN. On the FLOOR, nearly dead. No gloating on Reacher's part because beating the shit out of people is what he does. You got a problem with that? Not his ...

The Nobleman and The Spy is now available at Loose Id. This is Bonnie's announcement to her yahoo fan group**: Summer and I are really enjoying writing these historicals. [ed's note: This is true. Co-writing with Bonnie is more fun than a St Patrick's Day party in a Boston bar.] Hope you like them too. They once faced each other on a battlefield. Now soldier-turned-spy Jonathan Reese must keep watch over the man he's never forgotten. A close encounter reveals Karl von Binder, the count's son, also recalls the day he spared Jonathan's life. Sparks fly between the former enemies and Jonathan begins to lose perspective on his mission. He knows he must maintain distance because the heat he encounters in Karl's touch stirs him far too deeply for his own good. He can't keep away--especially when he suspects someone is trying to kill the nobleman. The spy becomes a protector as Jonathan guards the man he's begun to care for. Together the men try to puz...

A fun book. The various conflicts seemed weak-ish (which is surprising, since they're built into the plot) the goals not there (that was the point, actually) but I liked it. The voice and, to a certain extent the situation, reminded me of a fluffier Ann Tyler. The people are richer and less neurotic. The first person narrator didn't annoy me, even when Emmy (that narrator) seemed annoyed with herself. Though she and her brother, Josh, might have been caught in high school worthy dramas, the view was usually fairly interesting. We watch them grow up a bit, become less passive. The initial situation is Emmy walks out on her fiance and then stays in Narragansett, where they'd been staying the night. She stalls out and drifts along. I wished there was more about the community of fishermen and their wives--that sounded more interesting than Scarsdale where the action takes place. But part of the point of the book is that she doesn't understand those people and apparently i...