Showing posts from May, 2006

quotes, quotes, quotes

I have a Ned Lamont shirt, a Lamont sticker on my car and a Lamont sign in my yard. I hate it. This part of politics is super-cheesy** . . . Yet I have a strong need to see the backside of Lieberman. But I need more--so I'm wandering around the internet, gathering reasons to vote for the man, not just against someone else. So I'll copy and paste some of quotes from him. That way I can convince my other neighbors to take some of these dang yard signs the local Lamont people dropped off at my house. "War and peace are the most important stakes that your government deals with. The war says so much about what type of a country we are, our moral authority, and our priorities." "Since my days on the urban league to teaching entrepreneurship at an inner city high school, I am committed to maximizing opportunity; we start by reinvesting in our cities- great schools, affordable housing, public transportation- and jobs." Hmmm. Kid needs the computer for homewor

What do you think?

I think this is the best political post of the day.

glorious snarkage

PBW has been sneaking looks at a lot of writers' WIPs again. shaking fist at PBW, damn you for being so good. ***** I'm going to post over at Unleashed, if only I could think of something to write about. I'm still recovering from PBW.

what does one DO with this stuff?

cleaning up, sort of and I've found these things: An American flag that draped the coffin of a WWI veteran's coffin (in the 1950s). An older friend gave it to me--the vet was her dad. Now what the heck should I do with it? It's too big to fly, and I don't want to burn it. I don't want to sell it on ebay--although maybe I should. She's in her 80s now and could use the income. Anyone want to buy it? A bunch of little girl china that I used as a kid. Much of it slightly chipped, not valuable. I can't bring myself to toss this stuff. No one would want it. Lots of letters from a dead ex-lover. Nothing dreely, nothing Bridges of Madison County , thank God--but the guy wrote great letters. He died young and it's bad enough practically no one else remembers him. Maybe his sisters wants some of them? Icketty paintings I made . And a couple of better ones from my mother, but there's no room to hang them up. Grey, brown, doom. We were definitely ashcan sc

Favorites Du Jour

favorite headline--"Poll: Americans like instant gratification" (almost as good as "Poverty Creates Depression") favorite actual story--" Doctors In Retirement Community Seeing Increase In STDs" (yeah, yeah, it's not funny for the people who've gotten sick. For us middle agers it's a relief. Not dead yet will be true.) favorite online fiction read--" The Scheherazade Audit" I haven't finished it yet. Fun author's style--so very not romance voice (voted for best use of single word page. See if you can find it) . Naturally I will check out Doug's fiction. (Especially since he and my hussy alter ego have apparently had some kind of tryst. Who knew? Creators are always the last to know.) More later, maybe. I have to put away the groceries that the hunter and gatherer just dragged home, the blessed angel dude.

Megan Speaks. We answer.

Megan Frampton wants to know about the nuts. I love Abby Godwin's answer to: You’re writing in the Victorian period; what about it interests you? And have you read any Victorian porn? Everything about the Victorian period interests me. Nothing was as it seemed on the surface; the entire society was based on appearances. You weren't supposed to say, do, or live anything real. Everyone was completely messed up. It's a writer's dream. I have not read Victorian porn but I'll try anything once. Where the hell would I find it? I'm guessing my local library doesn't have any. Now you have me curious. She hasn't read Walter's memoir . The great period slang in there inspired one of my books (that's currently getting rejected everywhere). Now I'll answer the questions assigned to me: If you could acquire any writer’s one skill (Jane Austen’s wit, Henry James’ bombast, William Gibson’s geek-talk), whose would it be? What skill would it be? D

whining about food

2.5 days of dieting and I wonder how people keep this kind of lifestyle up for years and years. If I'm going to obsess about food, I want to ponder questions like: Next time I hit Trader Joe's should I go for dark chocolate or maybe some of that chocolate with bits of orange peel in it? Should I make chicken satay or chicken enchiladas? I do not want to think of food as the enemy. I liked my state of nonrexia, the opposite of anorexic. I've been operating along the lines of a typical male--that is when I think of my bod, I'm about 20 years** out of date. I think hey, I'm curvy. I'm fine. And then when I see myself in the mirror it's "HOLY CRAP, who is that???" My solution has been to not have mirrors. It's not going to work any more because of the high blood pressure and other nonsense. I'm drinking nasty stuff and eating fruit and hoping it'll make me more Aware. It has, I am, and I want to go back to oblivion. whine whine

bitchetty--More News From Us

Summer just got word that a novel will be released December 12 at Samhain. Summer just got a 4.5 blue ribbon rave review from Summer has just polished off writing the first draft of a novella she raaaather likes. Kate works a lot more hours than Summer. She spends more time doing research, rewriting, rethinking reeeeewhatever. Granted the books are longer....but still. She's sick of this writing and not getting published. Kate points out to Summer that Somebody to Love got a 5 blue ribbon rave review from ....several years ago. And, oh. It seems to have vanished from the site. Kate started a fad diet a couple of days ago (fruit flush thingie) not to really lose weight but to jump start a real world diet. Kate is well aware that to lose and keep off weight it requires a change in lifestyle blah blah blah. Boring. Kate is grouchy. Kate and Summer want chocolate.

Summer Does New York

Oh. My. Heavens. My smut writing alter ego is going to make it into print--she's in an anthology. and not just any anthology. . . . Summer's going to be in a Simon and Schuster Pocket book. Perfection, the first Summer story, is coming out with stories by Michelle Pillow and Kimberly Dean. Ellora's Cave has struck a deal with Simon and Schuster for ten anthologies and my story is showing up in the second one. There's already a link! There's already an ISBN! It's five months away from publication! Hey! Wow! Hmmm . . . it's currently doing better in sales than Kate's books. (note to self: Amazon numbers mean nothing.) Kate rushes over to give Summer a fake hug/kissie combo and is now wondering how she could ride in on the hussy's silk kimono tails.

other people doing it fine

stole this from twistedmonk--click on it to make it readable. and for this morning's appertif, might I recommend jmc's list of what she learned in romancelandia ? Love them lists. The Ja(y)nes just visit Scotland's version of romancelandia . They do it at Maili's place which is evil because Scotttttish Rrrrrrrromance makes the poor woman foam at the mouth. Carry on.

an illustration for Lyvvie's SBD rant!

DeSalvo, watch out. There's a new pirate in town.

SBD -- the last word

This is cheating because I'm not the one who wrote the excellent last word on the subject of what makes the best book . But I think I get points for recognising genius, k? EAP is one of those people who could describe eating a saltine** and somehow transform every saltine henceforth into a totally new experience for her readers forever and ever, amen. I got the idea of shifting perfection at once because she mentions The Very Hungry Caterpillar which was The Best Book for all three of my guys. And it was . . a BEAUTIFUL BUTTERFLY . Oops, gave away the end. The best books? It all depends. Changes faster than New England**** weather. It's as hard to pin down as the dang weather, too. Personal note: It makes me wonder when rrrrromance will turn into a very hungry caterpillar book for me. I might wake up one morning and only want to read non-fiction books about the political process. _________________________ **I've already had a transforming experience with those

it's raining

20 percent chance, the paper said. NO way, the computer told me. They lied. It's fucking raining. Sump pump city.

harumph, Linda Winfree

I was just off posting about books I wanted because of blogs I'd read...and remembered how I'd seen some of Linda W's work and wanted to read more. I posted my message and wondered did I get her name right? Just to make sure I hadn't spelled it wrong, I trotted over to her blog and discovered. . . . She's sold. Did she hop around the entire internet SCREAMING HER FOOL HEAD OFF? Nooooooo. A quiet little announcement LAST WEEK. Honestly, these quiet reserved mature types. (I wish I could remember where I put that note about wanting to read her stuff...) UPDATE: I forgot the WOOOOWOOOOO! Part of this entry. Congratulations, Linda!

this is so NOT me**

I'm only posting this over here because Doug didn't notice this picture from the cute animal site. This is a cats'n'racks photo (that's how it's described at cute overload). And to be honest, the cleavage might bring me some traffic. **We don't have a cat. I ain't perching the 80 lbs dawg between my boobs.


BEA and RT are this weekend, and details are trickling in from emails and blogs. Well, fine. Have fun and party you guys. As long as you remember to email me all the most interesting gossip, I'll forgive you for going and having a great time without me. I promise not spread the gossip, too. It's not like I don't have a life. I had a fine old time this morning. I woke up at 4:30 and went to the huge farmer's market with a couple of pals (who were more awake at that time than I ever am. They hadn't even had coffee) and we bought flats of plants. Yessireebob. I know how to live....ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz Today's big mystery: At 5 am there were people LEAVING the market with cars filled with produce and plants--but the thing opened at 5. Did they do that obnoxious early-bird yard sale thing? It's a great scene: acres of asphalt covered with trucks and huge expanses of flowering plants and rows of potted bushes. Lots of sloppily dressed people milling around. Oh,

No slamming readers with message. . .

My mover and shaker (hi Lyn!) has me working on a story for another anthology. This one is supposed to involve fertility treatments. No going into details, but I think all the characters' treatments work but mine. My heroine is not going to have a baby. She just can't. No matter how often Lyn pleaded with me to get that woman preggers it didn't work. I think this is in part because of my past: We spent five years of our life trying to have a baby. We did everything -- hysterosalpingograms (and no I'm not looking up the spelling on any of this stuff), two laparosopies, blah blah blah-- up to and including six months of clomid and IUI (and if you don't know it, you don't really care anyway). I met a whole lot of infertile couples during that time and remember a few of them in particular. We ended up succeeding and I've popped out my boys since. That didn't happen for several of the people I met and who had the same infuriatingly vague diagnosis of unexpl

he's good

My nephew's blog . I'm still not used to him being an adult, but there's no mistaking him for anything else.

Thursday Thirteen again and Western Rrrromance

I've abandoned all writing and indoor tasks to address the problem of the three-foot-high lawn**. But heavy clouds threaten so this is a fast post I'm marching into Western RomanceLandia. Because of Wendy the Superlibrarian's recommendation and Suzanne Beecher's stupid online book thing ****, I went to Barnes and Noble Dot Com and bought these books: I Do, I Do, I Do by Maggie Osborne Redemption by Carolyn Davidson. (This week's online romance book. I want to find out how the hero ever becomes remotely appealing as a human) A Quick Thursday Thirteen (typed out quickly before it starts pouring again) 13 Things I Hate About Rain 1. the puddle in the basement 2 the permanent fug of damp dog in the house 3 the mold 4 the pond in the other part of the basement 5 the neighbor's sump pump that smells terrible 6 the ruined pair of sandals 7 the need to use the clothes dryer more than usual 8 the tomato plants that drowned 9 the tomato plants that didn't but

Big local news!

It's not raining. (Uh oh. Clouds are forming even as I write. The little ray of sunshine is official blocked.) * * * * And what is it about older people who take pride in their clothing? I remember that from Ann Tyler's The Clock Winder-- instant tear welling. It must be some sort of archetype. When I was a kid, my mother collected people who had been abandoned. I don't know where she found them--I think some of them must have been from my aunt's half-way house. Ma had one guy, Stanley was his name, maybe? He dressed in a suit, every day. No matter what the heat, Stanley wore a suit. He didn't go in for personal hygiene though. When I was a kid, I dreaded his stinky visits. Now when I think about him, I feel tremendous guilt and the instant tear-welling. I know if he showed up at my door, I'd let him in and give him tea (the local version, Mr. Chadour did just that) but I bet I wouldn't invite him to Thanksgiving, the way my mother did.

Ex-ec-u-tiv, Djud-i-shal, Ledj-is-lae-tiv

Whoababbeee, am I sick of those 96 questions (pages 61-66). They rattle around in my brain like pop tunes. I made a tape of myself chanting them, but now I can't find the tape--I might have given it to Fikreta a couple of days ago--so it's back to live action today. We've gone through the first thirty, but as the ladies say, their brains were so rattled by war they have no memory. Or so they say. The constitution is the supreme law of the land.

Quote of the Day

Books, like paintings and sculptures and three-minute pop songs, are cultural creations, not slices of soul sent out into the market place. --Stephen over at SBTB

SBD--go down two spaces and a want ad

It's cheating, but it's so clearly a SBD, okay? Yesterday's entry, I mean. I think I still want recommendations in these areas: Western Hystericals (not Georgina Gentry or what's her name. Connie Mason.) Western Modern , with humor if possible. No, I don't mean Hank the Cowdog . Gothic Historical and Modern. I recently read Beast a gothic modern. It was okay...I finished it and that's pretty good right now. H ere's the want ad, and I'm seriously hiring (for seriously little money) . . this arose after I thought about SBTB and the AAR thing. Wanted: Grammar Czar for proofer. Someone who knows Her Stuff and doesn't mind examining the trees and ignoring the forest. (I don't mind comments about the big picture, but that's not what I'm looking for now.) I need to have someone flag: ambiguous antecedents, when I give a green-eyed person blue eyes, which word I've repeated over and over and over, when I've had a guy sit down

the bookstore does look nice . .

I feel slightly possessive of Samhain because I've watched it since day one (and now because I have a book there). The new improved bookstore is pretty --and everything is on sale, including LC , which is now the cost of a coffee at Starbucks, and I don't even mean anything with foam or a pseudo-italian name--well, I suppose grande or vente coffee is kind of Italian.

Romance, Traditional Regency

Even limiting to romance isn't going to work for me. Today we're doing Regencies , and I mean Traditional Regencies, not just Regency-set historicals. This is a currently dying genre (although it'll come back. It always does.) Speaking of death and Regencies, a friend who writes the genre told me it's the most popular type of book among those who are about to drop off the twig. I can't remember if she meant that most of its readers are dying people** or if most dying people suddenly have the urge to read TRs. I thought bleeeeech, and then decided if it's true, that's a pretty important job for a writer, for god's sake. Gives me new respect for TRs as the ultimate escape literature. ANYWAY...these were the first romances I picked up for pleasure (I read a few H/S because I was going to write one.) They're what I grabbed when I had to face other people dying, actually. Hmmmm. Without much more ado, and not ANOTHER WORD about death, here we go for th

today's reader questions

Inspired by Bam and Dick Cheney. Bam really does take car naps at work. Wouldn't you worry about people tapping on the window and scaring the piss out of you? That's not one of the questions. Here they are: Do you take naps at work? Where do you manage that?

Today's Categories. Two non-romance

Mapletree is coming up with the list of best books ever--at least in the last 25 years I can't do it. I think I can come up with the worst ever, thanks to the bitches. (My votes were Bridges of Madison County and Atlas Shrugs . God, I hated BoMC. LOATHED it. I wonder if I reread it all these years later I still would.) But the best ever--I can't seem to manage it. I can only come up with lots of categories and plenty of leaders in them. Creepiest I keep coming back to Perfume . You'd think I haven't read any other book, I talk about it so often, so I guess this one wins. I've actually read a bunch of books that set out to be scary and usually end up kinda gross ( The Closer for instance). The Silence of the Lambs didn't keep me awake. And I laughed at that Hannibal book (it was read aloud on tape). I've read a bunch of Stephen King, and he succeeds. As my son said--too late for both of us--don't read his stuff while on vacation in Maine. But for

leftie alert -- plus an advertisement

I posted over at dailykos again --this time it was about my phone service. NAS phone snooping scandal got you down? You can go far left for a solution**. (So far left even my eyes roll at some of the causes they choose to support.) We've had Working Assets for a long time. I lurve the service and not just because they do NOT charge us when I send in the bill late--and also not just because they gave us a free year of ice cream when we signed up more than a dozen years ago. I mostly like it because when I call them up, I get a person almost immediately and they seem to actually care about our problems. When we have had nonsense with our local service accepting WALD as our in-state provider, after a few fruitless attempts on my part, the lady from WALD said she'd contact them for me. I warned her it would take more than a half hour on hold and she said that might be enough time to finish the cross stitch she'd brought to work with her. That big wheeze about customer servic

More about LC

I got this banner more than a week ago from Shay at sensualreads. SHE made it for me. Isn't it the business? Learning Charity was her pick of best read of April. (I am so going to put that point in bold. Larger font? naw, bold should be enough.) But the truth is I started up the ol' dashboard machine to blog about this LC review , not the raving review from Shay or the gorgeous button she made. No, I had the urge to share the B grade from Bam ** , because I swear to God it is the funniest review I've ever gotten and that includes the first one from Mrs. Giggles ( Somebody Wonderful got a 72--which is pretty decent for Mrs. G but at the time I thought it was a full thumbs down.) Bam's review made me laugh out loud and poke my sleeping husband and say " hey lissen to this, honey." Worth noting: Her description of the cover (though I happen to like that cover, so neener neener, Bam. She's my skank ho). Her description of ho sex. And my favorite

so? This one is easy, dudes

1. Judge Kate Speaks. . . It's all clear to me. You send someone a book when they haven't asked for it, they can do whatever they hell they want with it. I still have to accept the fact that even after they bought the thing and you wrote " to my best friend in the whole world xxoo " they can do whatever they want with it. They bought it. It's theirs. They can rip it up and feed it to the hogs and then describe the event in their blog. The rioter in question must smile and nod and not whine except to her 120 closest personal writing friends in a loop. The 120 friends must castigate the reader and call her horrid names. No mention of this must ever be made in public. (please see incomplete authors' behavior guide here ) This reader will not go to hell. If she makes a habit of buying books and loathing them, her misery is its own reward. Back to the ARCs for sale on the internet. IF she is a reviewer you sent an ARC because she was on one of your long-ass

speaking of inappropriate author behavior**

I have an extra ITMFA*** button. Want it? ______ **This comes under the heading of public image: political, obnoxious. ***Google it.

Fun at Paperback Writer

It's a blast, writing rejections in the style of a particular author. My favorite so far is by Jules: It was the best of manuscripts, it was the worst of manuscripts. Well, if truth be told, it was simply the worst of manuscripts. PBW herself does a bang-up job on Parker -- I just listened to a Spenser tape.** But the Dr. Seuss and Good Night Moon kiss offs are pretty fabulous, too. _____________________ **WHY??? WHY do I do this to myself? Just hearing the words "Susan Silverman" make me crazy and I'm not talking happy crazy. Okay, I just remembered there's a good reason: the library has a bunch of Spenser tapes in stock.

The Husband Doesn't Read This Blog

. . . but maybe someone who knows him does. Could you share this Relationship Hint with him? Groaning and saying in a quiet, disgusted tone "Oh, God ," at the casual mention of upcoming occasions (mother's day, anniversary, birthdays) --these are not the responses one looks for in a life partner. Except, hmmmmm, this ignore the occasion response (a link to last year's anniversary) seems to have served him well. Rather than force him to celebrate, I have given him absolution on the anniversary. Hell, might as well. It's like pretending you have control over a badly behaved dog--you see she's about to sit and you yell "sit!" then it looks like you Meant That to Happen. Anyway, he is not required to remember the event this year or any other. If I want flowers or champagne, I'll buy 'em (and I plan on getting the good stuff too). I'm even thinking of making dinner reservations** . He's off the hook. However the pained expression and th

SBD, the tan-purple spectrum (bet you didn't know they were complementary colors?)

I'm on hold with Dell as the Fussy Laptop's latest problem is explored. Lots of flickering! Unhappy with power cord! New cord not working any better! ** I'm thinking about the latest romance I just read--a thick superromance with lots of family (cute kids and ornery old dad). I liked the hero a lot. The heroine wasn't bad either -- decent, hard working people. But the circumstances of their coming together was coincidence. Then they were being swept along by something less than fate, more like being caught behind someone in the supermarket line. The story was better than the usual H/S and the characters were more pleasant than the bickering nostril-flaring group I've read lately. Maybe that's why the h/h struck me as bland--they didn't pick up each others' scents from across crowded rooms. I'm used to the awareness of vampires after reading too many over the top characters. Nice to have characters who don't scream I hate you and threatening ea

I stand firm

Worf made me. I took the pledge even though I don't know who Jeff Goldstein is and I am happy in my ignorance. No, stop it. I don't want to know. I'm almost up to post number 400. Unbelievable! Time for a look back at the blog. What have I accomplished? A shrinking reader base. I used to get about 200 hits a day. Now it's more like 70 More photos of wisteria than practically any other blog out there. Occasional rants that are misinterpreted, ignored or mocked (best answer to nearly any rant, I say.) Here's a fact you may not know: I have restrained myself. Despite the internal desire to tell all, I haven't once yet described one of my recurring George Bush dreams. I have them regularly. Usually we're on vacation and meet up with George. Last night my mother and I were on a cruise and George. . . Wait, stop! I almost described that GWB dream. Phew! I need to keep the record clean. I wish I was kidding about having these dreams. I'm not.

walk to school

9 yr old: I have a new system. I'm reformatting my days. [ note: 9 yr old is a geek wannabe. he uses lots of terms that sound technical and inserts strange numbers whenever he can. He is particularly fond of statistics, many of which he makes up...okay maybe he has a career as a politician?] me: yeah? 9 yr old: Yes, the actual school time minus the non-school events. Take art -- I like art. me: Who wouldn't? Ms. Reid rocks. I wish I could ta-- 9: So that's 45 minutes. And then there's lunch and recess and library. Those are part of the formula. me: Wow, look at those tulips. 9: [who has never allowed any interruption, ever. He really can't --he's the third child and just as chatty as the other two.] I'm thinking of retooling the other numbers as well. I mean adding onto those numbers, but only about hmmm five point five minutes per period. me: [ barely listening. I mean jeez, it's a matter of self-preservation. All three of them can and w

BSC reminds us

higher gas prices = goodbye disposable income = goodbye people buying new books. Well, she didn't say that exactly, but I took it to the logical, most depressing conclusion. In other news, it's still raining and we still don't have a sidewalk. We do have four nifty orange cones.

I'm blogging at RU

but first I must rid myself of my unclean feminine scent. Now why is that so very much grosser than masculine scent? No, no, never mind. I need to open the windows and let the lilacs (that are about a half a foot away from me) fill the room--literally since the bush needs to be trimmed. There are boatloads of flowers on all three huge bushes. And it's been hours since I mentioned the wisteria, right? It's only about ten feet away. Oh, and there are scathes of violets everywhere--between the bushes, all over the lawn (all volunteers). Their scent is less strong but I think it's even more wonderful. The tulips are blooming but they're a dead loss as far as smell goes. Of course it's about 50 degrees, rainy and windy, but for a moment you wished you were here, huh? (Post Kate shower I mean.) I think I'll blog about good author practices over at RU.

Did We Piss Someone Off?

Um, Mister? Why you ripping up our sidewalk? Guy says he doesn't have a clue. All he knows is he's got a piece of paper from the city that says the sidewalk in front of our house MUST go. Anyone else on the block is getting their sidewalk removed? Nope. Hmm. . .I'd call City Hall, but as long as they eventually put something down again, I don't much care why they picked it up in the first place. Since I went out with the camera, I took a picture of the wisteria, naturally. Last one of the season! I think.