The Calm During the Storm...

The weather here in nor-cal is grungy--it's what Seattle wishes the weather was like all the time just to live up to it's rep! (I actually love Seattle, btw...one of the prettiest cities outside of San Francisco and Victoria that I've ever been to! But then, those of you who've traveled Europe, I'm sure, have better favorites than mine:-)

So...grungy weather, a family riding the fine edge of being sick, kids riding the fine edge between 'oh, poor baby, you don't feel well?' and 'no jury on earth would convict me', and a house that was actually clean more than twice in the course of the week...what to do?

Knit and watch old episodes of 'Firefly' on DVR. (Okay--I want a personal tete a tete with the @$$holes who canceled that show. I swear I wouldn't hurt them. Much.)

It was awesome--and I was just on the fine edge of having my brain explode out my ears as it was. There's nothing like being 'almost' sick to prompt a record binge of knitting. I finished the scarf for the kid I love, and started the scarf for the kid who's promised not to be a bitch to me and got heavily invested in my ravelry. (I need to start that whole 'flickr' thing so I can put pictures on--but then, we've seen my luck with pictures w/blogspot, so we'll just have to cross our fingers and hope for the best. *sigh*)

We managed to survive the lockdown on Friday--but if you look at the comments you'll see that Lady In Red might possibly need some heavy duty massage therapy--she was in the same room with the mutants during that THREE HOUR disaster, so I'd be the first to pitch in on the gift certificate. Oh--and by the way? While stuck in the same room with his least favorite 9th graders, my curmudgeonly my-way-or-the-highway-your-kids-are-tardy-so-you-suck colleague got bored enough to read the blog. He seemed to take exception to that last epithet, so I decided to call him that until my fingers fall off from having to type the whole thing. (Are you reading, Mr.--? Remember--savor the irony!!!)

Oh yeah!!! And speaking of lurkers!!! Don't forget--IF YOU DON'T COMMENT, I CAN'T REMEMBER TO PUT YOUR NAME IN THE ACKNOWLEDGMENTS!!! Someone just reminded me that they read all the time, and I realized that, although this person has contacted me via email frequently (and y'all know I treasure that) I don't remember if she's commented or not, or if she's done the other name thing or what, and I thought that this was one of the people who should have had her name mentioned but she didn't!!! (Goodwitch, I'm talking to you, darlin'--I'll do my best to get you in the next one!!!)

Oh yeah--and if you look at the comments from the last post (you know, the one where I gloated about amazon, because, uhm, I'm a narcissist who does that...) and the first feedback (besides my editing team whom I adore...j'et adore, j'et adore, I couldn't love you all anymore!) is that the book is satisfactory, and my (many) prayers have been answered. It very possibly DOESN'T suck, and we won't have to hear Amy Lane's prayer of insecurity for at least another six or seven months.

*whew* And the nice lady who's been my unofficial biographer just contacted me with an absolutely HUGE LIST of stuff I could/should/may remember how to do with marketing. She included the 'Teron Angel' reviews, and she's right--I really need to yank the Teron Angel reviews. I actually tried once, to do a customer service call to get into that account, but the lady on the other end of the line seemed so totally confused that when our phone connection died (because that happens in my house) I just let it go. But the bigger I get the more embarrassed I am about them. And for some reason amazon put the one I wrote for Vulnerable on the front page. Everytime it gets a positive vote I just cringe. When I had one book out, and six reviews, it was kind of cute that one of them was mine. Not so cute now, oh no, it's really not. It's not even cute on Library Thing. Okay. Well. It's sort of cute. When I put myself on libary thing, I just found out it existed, and had not yet taken the 'towering ego of the insecure' antidote--i.e., most of last year--and I giggled as I did it. It still makes me giggle. I'm kind of a sick puppy sometimes--can't explain it. But for everyone who doesn't know, Teron Angel is Amy Lane, and when I was desperately in need of recognition or some sort of press (you know, like last month, when I discovered Tribe.net, Goodread, and Summize?) , well, sister did it for herself. When I'm big, that's gonna hit the airwaves like Cassie Edwards' sad taste in 1930's literature, and I'm gonna need all of you at my back saying, "But she told us this already!!!"

And I'm off and running on the next book. Seriously--it's about 1/3 done . Is that good? I don't know. Seriously--I'm at a loss as to whether that's good or not. All I can think is that, if I write about 4 pages a day, I can make the deadline. I also know that the Harlot told us that her books are between 50 & 60 thousand words. And that's how many words I've got in 1/4 of BMoonII. That either means I talk to much or that fiction is a strange and tricky animal--I haven't figured out which one yet.

Anyway, that's the state of the state, and now I must play with my children (some more--it's been a good day for that) and clean my kitchen:-)

Ciou!

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