kate rothwell

I made a half-hearted attempt to find the word JOY, but my search thing didn't do seem to find any and I don't want to make a full-hearted attempt. I'm skeeered I never use cheery words like joy and I just don't want to know that I'm such a curmudgeon. I suspect, but do not wish to have this confirmed. HOWEVER I did find another VERY COOL MEME at BSChick's place. She was writing a SBD entry and I bet she didn't even know she was inventing a meme. Check it out: You take titles and arrange them into sentences . You see, I’ve always believe that Harlequin Presents covers can be used either to a.) make one weird blackmail note, or b.) summarize a whole new plot for the upcoming month. To do this one must first collect six Harlequin Presents. For our example we’ll use the six that came out for the month of November: Pregnancy of Revenge by Jacqueline Baird The Italian Doctor’s Mistress by Catherine Spencer Bound by Blackmail by Kate Walker Disobedient Virgin ...

I'm going to stop haunting the pundits' sites and just scan the headlines for a time. I have to focus and riot--the holidays are coming along any minute and nothing happens around here when they strike. Just now I have three things sitting on my computer. 1. A book that's closest to done but that I'm fairly sure I loathe. I think. This is the standard stage for many writers and I'm not very worried--though I despise this one more than usual. Someone pointed out (rightly) that is very much like my first book, Somebody Wonderful. DAMN! A one trick pony. That's okay if you write profound works of art but if you're a fluffster, no way. It might be okay with the numbers but not with what passes for my writer's soul these days. I want the book out of here. 2. A book that's a lot of fun to write. It's got an drunken sot of an heir (Little Lord Fakeleroy as Hilary put it), a hero who has panic attacks and is a liar and turns out to be something of a trou...

Yesterday I made a passing reference to Fitzmas to a friend. Her response was. . . Huh? I ran names past her. Fitzgerald. Libby. Wilson. Plame. She recognized Plame--or maybe by then she just wanted me to shut up. And, thank goodness, she knew Rove and Cheney. This is a well-educated savvy person I was talking to. A voter who actually reads those circulars the League of Women Voters sends out at election time. For a moment I thought heck, it's like the RWA fiascos. Whenever I talked about RWA with my Real World friends they'd say So? Who gives a shit? And I have to agree. Yah, it's really nothing, isn't it. No point in going on about the whole sad saga of the Definition of Romance. The great Inspiration and Erotica writers' schism. For maybe a second I thought that. But then I had to tell her write this down-- I have a list of sites to visit to learn more about Rove, Libby and the gang. Most of the sites are unbiased, like Fitzgerald's. The implications (and th...

Dr. Ruth, you weren't. From Seattle Times by way of blondesense: 2005 . . . marks the centennial of Sigmund Freud's theory of vaginal orgasm. Freud's idea didn't cause a revolution in our understanding of the cosmos, but it did set off a debate that rages to this day. . . Freud proposed that female pleasure and orgasm should center on the reproductive tract. He was aware that many women experienced orgasm through a small but ultrasensitive organ known as the clitoris but dealt with this by declaring such orgasms "infantile." Any woman who didn't transfer her center of sensitivity to the vagina he labeled as frigid. It was the idea that launched a thousand fake orgasms. Sex research has shown that about 95 percent of men nearly always have orgasm from intercourse while only about 25 percent to 30 percent of women do. Another 30-some-odd percent of women never have orgasm from intercourse, and a middle 30 percent to 40 percent report having them sometimes. ...

and normally I wouldn't blog about weather but I swear, if it rains again, I'm going to jump off the roof--into one of the rain-barrels. (We have rain-barrels made from 50 gallon olive oil barrels. They smell lovely when you unscrew the lids. Didn't really use them much this summer.) Teresa, see how good I'm being? Not a word about Harriet's withdrawal. Nothing. And nothing about Fitzgerald or Rove or Miller or anyone. Zipped lips and fingers. How about them White Sox? Ummm. Oh, what the hell. The celebration of Fitzmas: Tacky, Shameful or Funny? mommm Saved by the bell pathetic cracked voice of Boy 2 (aka The Actor) who's summoning me. He's home with a mystery fever, poor fish.

Please hold. We hope you will enjoy a link mocking Fox News while you wait for our regularly scheduled blogging. more at this site (via dailykos). If Fox News Existed Throughout History For the appearance of a Fair and Balanced blog I might heap scorn on NPR tomorrow.

This is really depressing. I know all about book-stripping--I learned about the vile practice at a too-tender age because we roomed with Gavin the Bookseller. Knowing the truth doesn't make reminders of its details any less grim. Bookseller chick makes a rainy Monday even more cold and cruel. It’s strip or die, really. So last Thursday, we stripped nine boxes of mass markets to clear out the bins: fiction, romance, science fiction/fantasy and mystery. No one was safe. Each box holds approximately 48 books, so around 432 books were stripped that morning. The rampage continued through this week as more product arrived. Those were 432 books that never saw the sales floor. I would like to assure you that each title was represented somewhere, that there was at least one book on the shelf and one in overstock, but in the end I can’t. I’m really not sure. Towards the end we were just guessing.