Friday, May 27, 2011
I don't have strong opinions because I don't look at myself and I don't spend hours messing with my hair. It's nice that other people do have opinions that they're sharing. I feel less invisible.
Here's the thing: my hair hasn't failed me. Boobs, bod, face, they're all heading south, literally. The metabolism has ground to a halt--all that weight I lost? Every pound has come back, hello.
The hair has some grey in it, but I don't mind that. I still have a lot of it, it's thick, it grows the way its supposed to.
Curse you for your inevitable betrayal, body. Thank you for hanging on, hair.
Which of the two do I want to chop bits off of? Not the agreeable, obligingly curling one. But of course the other isn't up for choppage.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Here is my favorite:
The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks. I listened to it and the reader was pretty good. She didn't intrude so we got the story without extra drama. It's a peculiar mix of styles, deep third point of view, then some unnamed person's report of Frankie along with what had to be footnotes explaining references.
I noticed some people over at Amazon objected to the interruption of the story with the notes from some omniscient story teller, not to mention the notes from whoever had written the reports. I wish I had a print copy--I bet it would be easier to know where we are with the story. It didn't bother me. In fact it was a nice change from the standard deep third all the way.
The story was full of rich kids at a boarding school. For once I believed it. These were really the rich kids I've met (I went to private school in DC and there were some of these people there). The boys acting like boys was spot on, endearing, full of themselves, funny and flat out stupid. That would have been enough but Frankie was also a treat. She wasn't easy or nice, and she was fairly unpleasant about the people she used to associate with (the geeks). She was probably in need of counseling. But I rooted for her all the way. Considering how picky I am about self-absorbed heroines, it had to mean she was a full-fledged person. It was odd how she drew upon Wodehouse and his Drone's club for inspiration because her view of life was a great deal darker than his music hall world.
I wish Beth, Rachel and JMC would read it and get back to me with their opinions. They're good readers, as in the insight they give usually makes me say, huh, hmmm, yah, even when I don't share the opinion.
Bonus read: There were references to a book about pranks and I ended up buying a copy of the book. How can you resist a title like If at All Possible, Involve a Cow
Here's a book I began to read and didn't like: Long Hard Ride, a freebie over at Amazon.
I'm always up for smut--or I thought I was--but this book annoyed me. It seemed to want us to accept things that made no sense if you stopped to think (which I don't usually do with this sort of book, but ....). Some girls were sluts but our heroine wasn't--that sort of thing. The world was too simplistic. When the hero thought about all the reasons he wanted her and no other girl, he thought about the stuff anyone with the lack of gag-reflex and tight holes could do for him. He'd get all dreamy about how her lips that would feel so fine on his man-parts. She was supposed to be special because she was a brain, but I didn't see that big brain in action much. Then again, I haven't finished reading it yet. I might. The voice is fast and easy.
I sure would be sad if I was entirely off smut but more and more it looks that way. Alas.
UPDATE: I still didn't finish the book and probably won't, but it has improved a great deal Characters are less cartoonish.
Monday, May 16, 2011
brings me coffee every morning
is the father of my kids.
has the only steady income in the family
has health insurance too
makes me laugh nearly every day
has a runner's body, if you know what I mean and I think you do
is often my best friend and has been almost 28 years.
won't let me get a cat. Well. He might well let me get one, but it can't live with him.
* * *
I'll get back to you on what I decide. I really want a cat.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
A: Jennifer Fusco is amazing. Jessica Andersen and Jennifer Fusco are a perfect team. Eloisa James still does a good keynote, although she did end with a standard/traditional note after avoiding the heck out of that for most of the rest of the speech. Sarah from Smart Bitches is funny, even after all these years. It's only right and proper that Toni won the Ipad though I wanted that baby, bad. CTRWA does a fine lil conference.
Q: What about the industry? What about trends yadayayada? Anything useful?
A: Not that I can recall. Except don't mix your professional and personal and lay off the whining.
Q: Was it as bad as you'd expected?
A: Naw, it never is. But I don't want to do that again. Until the next time. Oh, GOD. RWA is soon. No, I can't bear it, no, no, n--whoops, that's not whining.
Q: Any advice?
A: Don't bother pitching for yourself. have Corrina Lawson do it for you.
Monday, May 09, 2011
this showed up in my email with subject line "Assignment" after some major arm-twisting.
The Psychological Effects of Mother’s Day on Vicenarian Males
Once again Mother’s Day has rolled around, and just in time for most young men to finish their semesters at college and come home. Just in time for tired young men, scourged by the merciless lashes of academia, to return home simply wanting a time of rest and recuperation, a break from the vicissitudes and troubles of scholastic life. Alas, for many such youths, men just beginning to spread open their buds to the radiance of adult life, no such time of rest awaits them. Instead, they return home, and realize that some arbitrary power has declared that their first weekend home, when they should be doing nothing more than sleeping, eating, and watching tv on the couch, a holiday dedicated to those who squirted them into this troublesome world. Such young men generally exhibit an extreme apathy and a staggering sense of self pity, as if the entire world should weep for them. But, are such theatrics deserved? Do these young men really suffer, or should they just get off their asses and make a stupid card? I would argue that they should. Thesis: Here is your card, and have a Happy Mother’s Day.
Friday, May 06, 2011
Thursday, May 05, 2011
Look deeeeep into my eyes and repeat after me. "I will visit the website known as cup-o-porn tomorrow so that I might get a chance to win, win, win."
Cup-o-porn has the label "coffee and porn in the mornings" and is occasionally NSFW, no big surprise. I think they put the purely naked men after the jumps so you'll be safe if you don't click on some of those links.
But if you don't mind unsafe (for work), I recommend some clicking.
Wednesday, May 04, 2011
No wait, it'll make me look like a rugged individualist -- a lone writer.
Can I do spin or what?
Tuesday, May 03, 2011
I'm talking God, specifically the characters' relationship with the deity.
So anyway. If you read this, you know I've already ranted about how I don't like to read books with lots of God and how I think Religious activity is to inspies as Sex is to the erotic romance.
The only reason I'm bringing this up again is because times are changing. Used to be you could tell from the title or the little steeple on the cover or a particular line from a publisher. Now? They're sneaking in religion with mainstream covers.
My books ALWAYS have a little description of what could possibly offend readers. WARNING: M/m activity. Bondage. Etc. Well? I want warnings like that. Obviously there has to be a sliding scale to this sort of thing.
WARNING: This book contains many references to spirituality
WARNING: This book contains many references to miracles performed by Christian God.
And I think publishers should start with a praying hands system. It works with flames and sex, right? Time to put little hands in the description. Or a warning.
One praying hand=multiple references to spirituality without specifying which God
No more than three mentions of relying on prayer/God.
Two praying hands=main characters mention God more than a couple of times and have discussions of accepting True God. Possible mention of Jesus or other savior.
Three praying hands=There's more God than actual story in these pages (kind of like erotica has more sex than plot.)
**I wrote "and put the book down" but that's not how Kindle works.
Monday, May 02, 2011
I mean I am NEVER, ever selling my house. I just had an appraiser and his assistant wander through the place for a half hour and I don't need to feel that kind of disdain ever again.
They might have actually felt some disdain. Most of it was mine.***
It didn't help that when they stood in the kitchen and asked what sort of improvements we've made on the house I answered, "well, we added the front porch and that cupboard doors of banana stickers behind you," and they didn't laugh. If I had a camera, I'd take a picture of our doors of stickers. Those decorations took a lot of time and effort and bananas, thank you.
So two people looking down their noses at our house was more than enough. I don't love this place -- not like my mother who loved our old house so much she always declared they'd have to carry her out feet first. But selling this place would be too, too mortifying.
The appraisal isn't for a sale, thank god. It's for a loan for middle kid's college time, which is fast approaching, by all that is holy. We will get a loan and the mortgage we had (which was almost paid up) will vanish and now we'll pay mortgage into our 80s.
This is why you don't want to have kids. It's the only reason I've come across, actually. So I don't think it actually works as a reason not to have chickens of your own. It's just money--and snoooty people trooping through your house.
OH, and wtf? I have to fax the loan types our taxes for the last FIVE years? Refinancing is serious business these days. Sheesh. There were so many pages of faxes to send, I realized it would be cheaper to buy a fax machine then to pay Mr. Staples to send 'em. So we're ending up with a loan, a new fax machine (only $20) and inferiority complex about our house with its banana sticker cupboard.
In reading time, I listened to Libba Bray's three YA books. Magic, girls' school, etc. It was pretty good but it won't stick with me. There was much picking of flowers and watching them turn into butterflies.
To sum it all up, I'm boring as hell. I better go spend time with people who are more interesting, ie the characters in this book Bonnie and I are writing. I promised a guy I'd write a review of his book. (remember how I said I wouldn't do that any more?) That'll come later.
***I never notice what sort of cluttered crapfest we live in until strangers show up. Especially strangers who are here specifically to look at the crapfest.