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Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Chances are you're doing it wrong

According to many** arguments I've seen on the internet in the last day or so, if you're not gay/non-white/non-cis/sad/poor/fat you have no right to try to depict the gay/non-cis/non-white/sad/poor/fat people in the world. You can't actually depict those experiences if you haven't felt it yourself.

Sure you've felt pain/love/hate/boredom/fear/loss, sure you're human, but unless you've felt it in that capacity, wearing those shoes, you cannot possibly describe that particular experience.

On the other hand, if you write books with characters that do not embrace any of these qualities or you only portray them as secondary characters (as in they act as foils for the main straight/cis/white/happy/rich/svelte characters), you are awful. You do not even try to show the world what it is like to be fully human.


TL:DR = There seems to be a lot of anger on the internet. 
TL;DR pissy version = Damned if you do, damned if you don't


**three or four

Friday, January 24, 2014

Summer Devon is looking good

She has a new webpage. It's so much cleaner than her old page.  So pretty. 
"Yaaaahs! Gaga!" the guys who are visiting said, upon seeing it. "yaaaahs!" I only hope it's not because they're being polite.

Also I've tried to make the comments on this page non-google-plussy. I hope I've succeeded. Google plus is the not-quite-there experiment that refuses to transform into something useful or go away.

Hey, congratulations to Beth on unemployment.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Anyone want a copy of Love Between the Lines?

How about  a Kindle/Amazon copy of the book.  I have one and am giving it away. There is only a single copy! 

Want it? Email me or leave a comment here. 


 4.5 Stars!
"Rothwell's historical romance is pleasing from every angle!"
--RT Bookreviews Magazine

Danger won't deter this intrepid reporter--even when life and love are on the line.


Sir Gideon Langham wants the best for his flagship newspaper. Hiring daring female reporter Lizzie Drury, aka "Trudy Tildon," seems like a smart decision--until he finds himself falling for her. He knows she'll risk everything to get a story which is perfect for an employee, but not for the sort of woman he plans to marry.


Lizzie longs to write real, in-depth articles. When handsome Sir Gideon offers her a job as more than a stringer, she reluctantly leaves her New York beat for unfamiliar London. But as she pursues a murder investigation, ghosts from her past become all too real.


Digging up dirt sometimes unearths danger. Now someone is after Gideon's reputation--and Lizzie's life. In a race to find a killer, Lizzie and Gideon must learn to trust each other...before it's too late.


This can't be substituted for another format. It's one of those ebooks that's straight from the source. You get it sent directly to your Kindle through the magic fairy-powers that is the heart of Amazon.

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

unrelated

What do you suppose is worse: outliving your best, most productive, popular, star-of-your-own-life years or never really having those years? One involves loss, and that's hard. I suppose if you've never really hit any kind of high, you might not know you're living in a low. But what about when you look back, realize you're over and--that you were a non-starter?

And since it's all perspective--the view from up there or down there--the best and worst of anyone else's experience can't be generalized.

Still I keep thinking about athletes who come into their own when their bodies are young and then --poof--about the time the rest of the world is revving up in a career, they have to start over. At least they're usually young enough to be able to make a fresh start.

And this seems to be about careers. Pfah. What you do out in the world is not the whole enchilada, right? I hope.

* * * *

There's a column over at SBTB all about what she's sick of reading in sex scenes. Pretty funny stuff (and familiar too).

BUT okay, you people who write about writing ....Now I'd like to see an article about fresh, interesting sex scenes--a column that's just as witty and fun as a snarkfest is about the bad stuff. Is such a column possible? Probably not. The fun and laughter isn't so much from the column as it is from those awful images. 

Saturday, January 18, 2014

The world is a strange, strange place.

So I read a book I really enjoyed, and here's a review. 

I got the book from Storycartel, which is a cool site, except, jeez, it just rejected my book The Earl, a Girl and a Promise as too sexy.

Here's the thing. The book they did allow, that I found and read (and enjoyed) starts out with a long, well-written description of people being beheaded. There are hundreds of deaths in that book, many of them described in detail. There's cruelty and horror. Hey, that fits the book and, like I said, the book is pretty damn good. But still. It seems pretty sick and strange to me that people draw back in horror from sex and don't have a problem with books describing extreme violence.

This is normal. Will it always be that way? The distaste for loving/sexual content at the same time stories with multiple murders are considered acceptable--yo, the values in this set-up just seems very wrong. And every time I think about that, it becomes more bizarre. 

Sunday, January 12, 2014

My poor dog. And now I'm Uncle Albert

My poor old dog is going gaga and her ears are in terrible shape. I have to go buy a muzzle today so we can put medicine down her ears -- last night she bit Mike when we tried to do medication. Sure, yeah, I felt sorry for Mike. But my response was for the poor old hurting dog--and it was a bit out of proportion for the situation.

Don't look at me or my dog funny or I'll burst into tears.

I think I'm identifying with the once sweet-natured old bitch who's no longer interested in putting up any sort of front, or worse, is incapable of it. 

hahahhahahwaaaaah
So as I wailed, and wailed and I started to feel like the toddler who can't recover from the broken banana.

After a while, I was accused of having PB&J. No make that PBA and not the professional bowler's association.  I stopped snuffling long enough to look it up. I took the quiz (after choosing the name "Mike Blavis" for the patient in question and "other neurological factor" for my underlying condition). Well, boy howdy, I am clearly a candidate for WTF disease of the week.

ON THE OTHER HAND, I AM NOT ALONE! YOU PROBABLY NEED TO TALK TO YOUR DOCTOR TOO. ANSWER THESE SEVEN QUESTIONS TO FIND OUT

 The answers range from never applies (which is a 1, not a 0--bogus) to applies most of the time (a five)

The lowest score anyone can get is 7 and I think 12 is cause for alarm. I got 14 but mostly because I gave myself a 5 on: Others have told me that I seem to become amused very easily or that I seem to become amused about things that really aren’t funny. 

Yes, yes, I need to run right out and get my doctor to prescribe this medication, whatever the hell it is. Apparently one of the ingredients is from cough suppressants or maybe benedryl.
 
Coping with an Uncle Albert from Mary Poppins might drive the caregivers nuts and lack of control as my poor dog (and I) know is just awful. .But still..
Yet
Okay.
 when I see this on an evaluation: 
 There are times when I won’t be thinking of anything happy or funny at all, but then I’ll suddenly be overcome by funny or happy thoughts. 
I think for once pathology doesn't sound so horrible.

I wish I could give my sad old dog some happy puppy pills. We could bob along the ceiling together.

Monday, January 06, 2014

Screw it.

So that Old Spice commercial is a big success. I find that depressing beyond speech.

It would be one thing if dumpy middle-aged women were all over the ad universe. They are not. I spent about an hour looking and all I can find is that damned Old Spice ad and my son pointed out this one:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nKkPFDEiC6Q

These are the only ones I can think of. Seriously. Please tell me you've seen an ad with funny interesting (or even just meh) women who physically resemble those people. I don't mean a local ad. I mean a commercial that is supposed to appeal to an national audience.

Please. Tell me. Please make me feel better.

There are lots of middle-aged dumpy guys in ads, hanging around on sofas watching television, washing cars, going to the hardware store, acting like doofuses but not really figures of pure mockery.

What do I find? Those two ads with women in the mom role acting like
1 disapproving, pursed-lip cowards or
2. strange shadowy stalker figures who obsess about their sons (IT IS ALWAYS ABOUT THEIR CHILDREN)

That's it.

That is the sum of us.. Invisible except in the shadow of our children or maybe in the background of a group scene. We are not there..If it happened to another sort of group, with another set of stereotypes, I could imagine the calls would go out. Where are the positive or at least HUMAN portraits of that demographic? 

I posted on their facebook page basically the same thing. ranty rantage:
Do you people in the marketing department pay any attention to who actually BUYS your stuff? It's not the teenaged boys or even the jobless 20-somethings who've moved back in with their parents. Those guys might spend their money on junk food but deodorant? Not likely. Speaking as one of middle-aged not-thin moms you just portrayed as a group of obsessive, frumpy, passive shadows--nope. I don't think you made a hit with this one. I know you're laughing at a stereotype and it might have worked.. Maybe if there were legions of middle-aged ladies all over the ad world, this one would be funny, or perhaps less disturbing.  ... [yada yada] Sad

The responses I got were "Stop with the butthurt"
and . "Brb, got to go buy Old Spice." 

Okay, sure. This is just business and butthurt is always dumb because, even if it was something real, and not a goofy ad, what good does feeling insulted do? Answer. Nothing but make you look petty. It isn't about me, I know. I KNOW.

But none of that changes the fact that at the moment I'm filled with that useless rage at that demeaning, shitty, stupid, clever, manipulative, well-made ad, and wish I could do something about it beyond writing diatribes, ranting for My People, the invisible middle aged women (frumpus domesticus) . . and making a point of not buying some dumb deodorant.

Because I am not buying their stupid fucking deodorant again. 

The part that makes me sad is that I don't get how I could have had any other response once I got past the "oh that ad is cleverly made!" ... . . even though so many people I respect and love adore that ad.

It's exaggerated, stereotyping over-the-top and that's where the humor comes from. The whole world seems to love it. Then again, the whole world once loved the exaggerated, stereotyping over-the-top song stylings of Al Jolson.