Well, once again Mr. Orr and I have completely baffled each other.
As you can see here, , Floyd is baffled as to why my error-riddled books appeal to people, himself included, and I am baffled as to who else helped me write VULNERABLE, WOUNDED, and BOUND. Whomever it was, she must have been getting all the sleep I missed as I stayed up late to write, and I hope that lazy bitch appreciates getting some of the credit. (Literature 101, boys and girls, a SPEAKER is a narrative voice manufactured by the AUTHOR in order to tell the story.) I am also a little baffled as to when 'Fat Girl's Fantasy' became appropriate to use as a literary adjective. (I mean, he's seen my picture--does he think I might not take that personally?)
*breathe, Amy, breathe...*
But, in the end, he does like my books, and I really must remember that. He also reviewed them for free, and gave his honest opinion, which is something else all writers say they want. *sigh* You know, I'm beginning to think that my friend who proposed we write our own rejection slips to publishers/agents et. al. wasn't that far off the mark. I'm also thinking that misogyny lives, but what's that got to do with the price of eggs?
Anyway, I"m here today with two sick kids...poor babies. I mean, poor me, because the Cave Troll is being such a tremendous 'I'm kinda sick but not sick enough to lie still' boyshit, he's lucky I haven't throttled him yet. Ladybug has just become a new fashion accessory. If I leave the room to, I don't know, do the dishes or go potty, she comes, hugs my leg, and lays her head on my knee until I yield to the only job I really should be doing: Sitting on the couch holding her.
It's fever watch, day 3, and I'm probably up to bat tomorrow as well. I remember once, when the tweeners were in pre-school and Kindergarten, that the ENTIRE FAMILY got sick, right about this time. Big T made it 'til Valentines day--he was all excited about sharing Valentines, so we were glad that he didn't get sick until Feb. 15th...but I remember that morning. Mate and I were damned near too sick to move, and the (then) little guy got up, got dressed, put a juice box and a box of cookies in his lunch box and told us he was waiting for the bus. Mate stumbled out of bed and saw him, sitting on the couch, waiting for one of us to come see him to the bus, and realized in his delirium that T's cheeks were VERY flushed and the rest of his face was VERY pale, and a beep-beep-beep later, we were ALL in bed with fevers over 101. Thank Goddess our immune systems (Mate's and mine) are over those days, because I remember that week (yes, an entire week when we were ALL out of school and work) as the epitome of suckage. Has anyone ever tried to spray bleach an entire house? It works better than you think.
Well, the little ones are at nap now, which means I can A. Do some laundry, B. Do the dishes, C. Go to the potty unencumbered by Ladybug chic, and D. Maybe knit a little. Option D is actually flipping my switch a little--I should go for it before I have to load the sick and irritable in the minivan to go see the doc. I gotta tell ya, I'm thinking that letting them run naked in February thing (well, not that we LET them...) has come back to bite us in the ass...
Oh yeah... (and this is fun:-)
I sent the Harlot a copy of Bitter Moon I. I told her specifically that I wasn't looking for a mention in her blog...I just really thought that the Seven Auntie Star part that Needletart inspired would seem special to Steph as well. You know, especially after Floyd's review, it's good to remember that we write for ourselves, and for the people that inspire us. I don't know where that fits under 'Fat Girl's Fantasy'--maybe Mr. Orr would assume it goes in the box marked 'bakery', but I think we all know it's marked 'Yarns for dreamers'. At least mine is.