Okay, you know. Because I'm a teflon duck, right? Seriously--thank you to everyone who has been supportive and kind and wonderful as I "ACCKKKKK!!!" my way through another bout of misguided literary criticism. I've put out five books and written the equivalent of seven (since I'm going to release Jack and Teague as a book, and am two stories short of that being complete, it counts) and I'm very serious--if folks didn't tell me the writing mattered, I don't think I would have made it beyond book two. (I was still riding on hubris and 'what the hell, it's not like anybody's going to READ them' by book two... by book three, the true extent of my hubris had kicked in!) So thank you--all of you--for telling me that the writing matters, and that "foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds":-)
And on to other news!
Chicken had a soccer tournament this weekend--I caught one game, the one that was delayed by two hours in the blistering (105 degree) heat. It was so sad--we pulled up and looked for our parent, and there they were. Under the one tree on our side of the field. All twenty people, huddling like you would from the rain. Unfortunately, we brought the short people with us, and they were MISERABLE. And our girls got the snot beat out of them--but Chicken got a NICE compliment from her coach, so she was pleased. Anyway, we lost all three games and since I cut game three to go visit James and Rebecca at the local anime convention (the Little Vampire people... LURVE them!) soccer only gobbled part of my weekend.
I also made a trip (a fiscally irresponsible and yet highly satisfying trip) to my LYS. Babetta put out a free pattern for a slouch hat made out of Noro sock yarn... I'm dying to try it... but I'm SO eyeball deep in other projects.... eventually I will find balance. Sure I will.
But back to Sacanime--it was CROWDED--and I understand yesterday it was worse! I took Ladybug, so I was pushing the stroller but she was SO good, I'm glad she came. (Can't say as much about the trip to the grocery store on the way home when she slagged a fit of ginormo proportions, but, well, she's small but powerful and both 90% cute AND 90% evil!) And it was good to see James and Rebecca again. And I bought Chicken a T-shirt and Mate a print...OMG--if anyone out there likes Office Space AND vampires, it's the best print! It's a red stapler, being stapled by a vampire. The poor little guy gets flung off into the stratosphere (because he's like, smaller than the stapler) and the last thing you see is the red stapler and his little swear-exclamations. Okay. I NEED a picture of the picture. Suffice it to say, it's a winner and Mate will be the most popular nerd in the cubicle! Everybody got something--even a small something (the little ones got Little Vampires pins...) and I was so glad I went. It was worth the price of admission just to see some of the people I talk with on the internet and know that they're real. (I think this is why we love to send each other stuff... I know I love it. It makes my friends--my dear friends--real, flesh and blood people. I know I'd go far out of my way to meet most of you!)
(OMG-- speaking of Mate--one of our favorite movies on! Galaxy Quest--must go watch with Mate!) I got a nap today after Sacanime and soccer and grocery shopping and lunch and stuff... maybe I can actually make it through the whole thing!)
Okay--this blog post was all over the place--and I'm sorry. I'll try for coherency on yet another day. For tonight, I'm going to finish Ladybug's socks, DAMMIT I will, and fondle Declan and Deacon some more. Mmmmmm.... schweaty men! (Knittech can vouch for me... the guys are real, and they're HOT.)
Night all!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
I mean REALLY!
I've got some fun stuff after I go off on a nasty rant about my own personal troll-heifer who has gathered up a passel of cronies and started trashing me on Goodreads.
I mean, really? Who buys the high priced sequels to a book they've only given one star to? Either an idiot or a troll--there is no middle ground.
It's funny--the last time this happened to me, I was wondering who did this--who gathered friends into a posse and bullied people on the internet. The general consensus was that it was teenaged boys with time on their hands...and then someone said, "No. Bored housewives--hands down, the biggest internet bullies are bored housewives who are angry about their lives." I didn't think much of it, really, until now--when suddenly my Goodreads score has dropped from a 4.36 to a 4.24 in about five minutes, and I'm flummoxed. You'd think these women--at least one of whom is a mother--would recognize this playground behavior and NOT teach it to their children. But no--she bullied me on amazon, and got schooled. (M.Owens. You are my hero. Just saying.) So, in true bully fashion, she goes to a playground where she assumes I don't play, and badmouths me to whomever listens.
Does she teach her children those tactics? It doesn't surprise me that she didn't get Vulnerable--this is the behavior of someone who is enjoying a good karmic fuck at her own expense. Bad guys NEVER know when they're bad guys. They never think metaphorically, and can, basically, rarely see above the bars of heir own playpens. This woman is a textbook bad guy.
Happy sigh. The good news is, I'm a writer, and you all can bet, sometime, somewhere, I'll have a vampire rip off her head and use her spinal cord as a jumprope, and REALLY enjoy myself when that happens. (For those of you who think that's a joke, I hope you all enjoyed the brutal, undignified death of my last principal at the hands of Torrant/Ellyot Moon. Mmmmhmmm... Yahnstone Rath my ASS!)
Unhappy sigh. You know--honestly? Steph handled this much better on her blog. She is a better person than I will ever be. She too, is my hero.
I'm just the ordinary Josephine trying to do an impression of a stainless steel duck and letting all this vitriol roll right off my shiny silver back... I am teflon, hear me quack!
Which brings me to fun things.
The Cave Troll survived another soccer game as Ferdinand the Bull. Seriously--we used to have cats at my parents house who would watch rats run across their own paws with this really puzzled look on their faces. "I know this is something I should be interested in, but I just ate, and, really, what the fuck is the point again?"
Yeah--that's the Cave Troll's relationship to the soccer ball. He's happy to be there and all, but, really. What was the point again?
And Ladybug...
*sigh* Ladybug has been having a very 'not cute' week. I think it's the violation of her entire summer schedule, but somehow, she has turned into her older brother on his worst days. Yesterday, I said, "Come here, sweetie, and give mama a kiss!"
And she said, "Mama, you're NOT a boy!"
Shoot me. Shoot me now!
Chicken is worried about math--her teacher last year gave her a B+--she was one of four freshmen in the class. This year, she's one of two sophomores, and her new teacher is telling her she should go into a transition class because "She'll never get an A."
What kind of fucked up world do we live in where a teacher doesn't recognize the power and joy of a hard earned B? Tell me that? Where does it say we have to be perfect to succeed? Yeah--I don't get this mindset. It's as alien to me as my bitch-troll-heifer's... B's don't mean failure--they mean this person has a life and limitations and works with them both.
Anyway, we said she's staying in there. If she fails, she takes it again... since the 'transitions' class would take up the same amount of time on her schedule as failing it and taking it again, but it wouldn't carry the challenge or the self-confidence that passing this class would.
Big T just rolls along. He really is the greatest kid ever--if I ever sell lots and lots of books, I want to buy him a cool car. But not too cool-- it's gotta have a roll bar and several air bags and some sort of insta-foam so he never has to suffer even a scratch at the cruel hands of fate. I want to keep my baby safe! (Besides... all my royalty money right now is going to frivolities--like school clothes and insurance bills. Blegh. That's not sexy money--really isn't.)
And me?
I've got my head so far up my WIP that I eat, drink, and breathe Declan and Deacon. BTW? If nothing else, this puppy is proving that I CAN write a one volume wonder. And all that angst I tried to take out of Rampant because I wanted happy characters, just this once?
Oh yeah. Dek and Deacon are gonna break your hearts--right after they rip them outta your chests.
*Happy sigh* Good times:-)
I mean, really? Who buys the high priced sequels to a book they've only given one star to? Either an idiot or a troll--there is no middle ground.
It's funny--the last time this happened to me, I was wondering who did this--who gathered friends into a posse and bullied people on the internet. The general consensus was that it was teenaged boys with time on their hands...and then someone said, "No. Bored housewives--hands down, the biggest internet bullies are bored housewives who are angry about their lives." I didn't think much of it, really, until now--when suddenly my Goodreads score has dropped from a 4.36 to a 4.24 in about five minutes, and I'm flummoxed. You'd think these women--at least one of whom is a mother--would recognize this playground behavior and NOT teach it to their children. But no--she bullied me on amazon, and got schooled. (M.Owens. You are my hero. Just saying.) So, in true bully fashion, she goes to a playground where she assumes I don't play, and badmouths me to whomever listens.
Does she teach her children those tactics? It doesn't surprise me that she didn't get Vulnerable--this is the behavior of someone who is enjoying a good karmic fuck at her own expense. Bad guys NEVER know when they're bad guys. They never think metaphorically, and can, basically, rarely see above the bars of heir own playpens. This woman is a textbook bad guy.
Happy sigh. The good news is, I'm a writer, and you all can bet, sometime, somewhere, I'll have a vampire rip off her head and use her spinal cord as a jumprope, and REALLY enjoy myself when that happens. (For those of you who think that's a joke, I hope you all enjoyed the brutal, undignified death of my last principal at the hands of Torrant/Ellyot Moon. Mmmmhmmm... Yahnstone Rath my ASS!)
Unhappy sigh. You know--honestly? Steph handled this much better on her blog. She is a better person than I will ever be. She too, is my hero.
I'm just the ordinary Josephine trying to do an impression of a stainless steel duck and letting all this vitriol roll right off my shiny silver back... I am teflon, hear me quack!
Which brings me to fun things.
The Cave Troll survived another soccer game as Ferdinand the Bull. Seriously--we used to have cats at my parents house who would watch rats run across their own paws with this really puzzled look on their faces. "I know this is something I should be interested in, but I just ate, and, really, what the fuck is the point again?"
Yeah--that's the Cave Troll's relationship to the soccer ball. He's happy to be there and all, but, really. What was the point again?
And Ladybug...
*sigh* Ladybug has been having a very 'not cute' week. I think it's the violation of her entire summer schedule, but somehow, she has turned into her older brother on his worst days. Yesterday, I said, "Come here, sweetie, and give mama a kiss!"
And she said, "Mama, you're NOT a boy!"
Shoot me. Shoot me now!
Chicken is worried about math--her teacher last year gave her a B+--she was one of four freshmen in the class. This year, she's one of two sophomores, and her new teacher is telling her she should go into a transition class because "She'll never get an A."
What kind of fucked up world do we live in where a teacher doesn't recognize the power and joy of a hard earned B? Tell me that? Where does it say we have to be perfect to succeed? Yeah--I don't get this mindset. It's as alien to me as my bitch-troll-heifer's... B's don't mean failure--they mean this person has a life and limitations and works with them both.
Anyway, we said she's staying in there. If she fails, she takes it again... since the 'transitions' class would take up the same amount of time on her schedule as failing it and taking it again, but it wouldn't carry the challenge or the self-confidence that passing this class would.
Big T just rolls along. He really is the greatest kid ever--if I ever sell lots and lots of books, I want to buy him a cool car. But not too cool-- it's gotta have a roll bar and several air bags and some sort of insta-foam so he never has to suffer even a scratch at the cruel hands of fate. I want to keep my baby safe! (Besides... all my royalty money right now is going to frivolities--like school clothes and insurance bills. Blegh. That's not sexy money--really isn't.)
And me?
I've got my head so far up my WIP that I eat, drink, and breathe Declan and Deacon. BTW? If nothing else, this puppy is proving that I CAN write a one volume wonder. And all that angst I tried to take out of Rampant because I wanted happy characters, just this once?
Oh yeah. Dek and Deacon are gonna break your hearts--right after they rip them outta your chests.
*Happy sigh* Good times:-)
A brief digestive filk...
I owe this one to a forum buddy with the handle 'Meaty Ogre', who stated "Oh, I love chameleons! The flavor changes constantly as I chew! I especially love to find them hiding in Bat Guano because it has that musky flavor of Gray Poupon!"
The rest of this sort of wrote itself:-)
Oh I love chameleons
Their flavor changes as I chew,
And a slaughterfish is tasty
If I'm craving something new.
Bat Guano is a condiment
I can live on happily,
And Cat Yack is a crude-tite
Along with knocking knees of bees!
A Meaty Ogre's diet
Is wide ranging and diverse
(By wide ranging I mean wandering
About the universe.)
I like Kitty Roca, land mine pancakes
and Feline when squashed flat,
Forget the skinning, I know of many
More than nine ways to EAT a cat!
Goldfish flop quite nicely
Down my gullet to my spleen
(But ex-spleening goldfish to my colon
Ain't the nicest place they've been.)
Oh I love the swamp things--
I love me a good slug
Especially when split in half
And stuffed with wiggly bugs.
Ogres live so long you know,
Because they have much food to live upon...
(I love it when our food's scared first--
There's that touch of Grim Poop-on!)
The rest of this sort of wrote itself:-)
Oh I love chameleons
Their flavor changes as I chew,
And a slaughterfish is tasty
If I'm craving something new.
Bat Guano is a condiment
I can live on happily,
And Cat Yack is a crude-tite
Along with knocking knees of bees!
A Meaty Ogre's diet
Is wide ranging and diverse
(By wide ranging I mean wandering
About the universe.)
I like Kitty Roca, land mine pancakes
and Feline when squashed flat,
Forget the skinning, I know of many
More than nine ways to EAT a cat!
Goldfish flop quite nicely
Down my gullet to my spleen
(But ex-spleening goldfish to my colon
Ain't the nicest place they've been.)
Oh I love the swamp things--
I love me a good slug
Especially when split in half
And stuffed with wiggly bugs.
Ogres live so long you know,
Because they have much food to live upon...
(I love it when our food's scared first--
There's that touch of Grim Poop-on!)
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Filking Therapy
Thanks all, for your kind words... someday, I will have a thicker skin and a healthier outlook on this 'critics who have the right to be rabid badgers' sort of thing, sweartadog, but in the meantime, it's wonderful to know I've got friends.
In the meantime, I did a little filking on KTT (one safe place in Amazon.com for me) and I thought you'd enjoy--mostly because it's true:-)
Ode to My Work In Progress
Critics spit their venom and trolls rip my site to strips,
But I don't mind because I find solace in my WIP.
Sales they might falter, and colleagues may get flip,
But I am blind because my mind is immersed deeply in my WIP.
My WIP comes with me to shower, it comes with me to drive
Without that portable other world, I wouldn't know I'm alive.
My past works have their pitfalls, my past works have their flaws,
But my WIP is always perfect, without any blemishes at all.
Mean people hurt my feelings, mistaking vitriol for quips
My house is falling into disrepair, my sink and showers drip
But these things are really nothing--on my radar, barely blips!
The nastiness rolls off my back, because I have my WIP.
Cory is all kicking azz, Bracken guards her in her sleep.
Teague denies he's hurt inside, while Jacky (for Teague!) weeps.
Declan yearns in private and Deacon is just tough
While Green's beloved of everyone--it NEVER is enough.
The people who share my brain-pan are oh so real to me,
My greatest bliss is when I know others see what I do see.
So if you do not get my work, and you must carp on me to be,
Know I will not see you 'cause I'm in my 'dubbayu' eye pea!
In the meantime, I did a little filking on KTT (one safe place in Amazon.com for me) and I thought you'd enjoy--mostly because it's true:-)
Ode to My Work In Progress
Critics spit their venom and trolls rip my site to strips,
But I don't mind because I find solace in my WIP.
Sales they might falter, and colleagues may get flip,
But I am blind because my mind is immersed deeply in my WIP.
My WIP comes with me to shower, it comes with me to drive
Without that portable other world, I wouldn't know I'm alive.
My past works have their pitfalls, my past works have their flaws,
But my WIP is always perfect, without any blemishes at all.
Mean people hurt my feelings, mistaking vitriol for quips
My house is falling into disrepair, my sink and showers drip
But these things are really nothing--on my radar, barely blips!
The nastiness rolls off my back, because I have my WIP.
Cory is all kicking azz, Bracken guards her in her sleep.
Teague denies he's hurt inside, while Jacky (for Teague!) weeps.
Declan yearns in private and Deacon is just tough
While Green's beloved of everyone--it NEVER is enough.
The people who share my brain-pan are oh so real to me,
My greatest bliss is when I know others see what I do see.
So if you do not get my work, and you must carp on me to be,
Know I will not see you 'cause I'm in my 'dubbayu' eye pea!
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Honeymoon is over...
A few of you know that this situation is depressing me. I'm trying to develop some thicker skin, but, well, see for yourself. She'd make that rock thing from Marvel feel like a baby bunny.
And in other news? My fourth period--loud, crappy grades, happy--you know, my favorite sort of class? I've been promised that tomorrow, they shall be bye bye. And in their place, a first period class. My first of such a time period in several years. DUDES, I don't even think I KNOW how to be up that early--but I have to be tomorrow! It was funny, though--I was late today, and fortunately they hadn't moved the first period class into the time slot yet. Curmudgeonly Colleague was giving me crap for being late, and I (jokingly, of course) accused him of making up the whole schedule change in order to watch me freak the fuck out.
"No," he said, "but it would be damned funny."
He also insists that just because the only parts he's ever read in my books are the dirty parts doesn't mean he's only reading the book for the porn. He says those are the only parts he's been SHOWN. I'm not seeing the difference. (Some of this refusal to see the difference may be because he said I was 43 instead of 41. Only my offended vanity knows for sure.)
The Cave Troll started school on Monday--along with the big kids. The big kids are happy. And tired. The Cave Troll? It's just like last year. "How was school, big guy?" "Would you stop asking me that?" But his teachers love him--apparently they haven't seen his attention ZOOM just when they need it the most!
Ladybug has been short on sleep and long on stimulation. Let's just say it's interfering with her usual cuteness, but she really DOES steal your heart when she dances. (She does that graceful thing with her fingers...breaks my heart! Chicken KNEW how to do it--but she never had the confidence to pull it off. Soccer really is her home.)
Big T has never been so happy. The Junior year is a good one!
Knittech and I both agree that the people who put out this trailer are complete fuckers because it just makes us want MORE! I mean, c'mon-- tasty veal starts the apocalypse and just disappears for two months. So. Not. Fair. (In their defense, there is an 8 minute trailer on youtube that is going to have my complete attention after the short people are in bed.)
And I've renamed my new pre- Jack & Teague WIP "Promise Rock"--and it's breaking my heart. Also (and this can never be said enough) Roxie liked my BO-OK, Roxie liked my BO-OK. I'm thinking Rampant may be okay... I'll still worry myself silly, but I'm thinking we may be okay.
Oh yeah... one more thing.
I dyed my hair rabid cranberry red. I screwed it up-you can still see my orange/brown/gray roots. And the back didn't suck up ANY dye at all. It's all dark brown. I guess we'll have to just go with "I look like a moron" and hope I can find a bottle of dye to match the last one and fix this shit, or I'll be known as "That crazy teacher wearing the paper bag!" OI!
And as a finale?
I cashed my check from Dreamspinner Press today. Hey... the news can't be ALL bad!
And in other news? My fourth period--loud, crappy grades, happy--you know, my favorite sort of class? I've been promised that tomorrow, they shall be bye bye. And in their place, a first period class. My first of such a time period in several years. DUDES, I don't even think I KNOW how to be up that early--but I have to be tomorrow! It was funny, though--I was late today, and fortunately they hadn't moved the first period class into the time slot yet. Curmudgeonly Colleague was giving me crap for being late, and I (jokingly, of course) accused him of making up the whole schedule change in order to watch me freak the fuck out.
"No," he said, "but it would be damned funny."
He also insists that just because the only parts he's ever read in my books are the dirty parts doesn't mean he's only reading the book for the porn. He says those are the only parts he's been SHOWN. I'm not seeing the difference. (Some of this refusal to see the difference may be because he said I was 43 instead of 41. Only my offended vanity knows for sure.)
The Cave Troll started school on Monday--along with the big kids. The big kids are happy. And tired. The Cave Troll? It's just like last year. "How was school, big guy?" "Would you stop asking me that?" But his teachers love him--apparently they haven't seen his attention ZOOM just when they need it the most!
Ladybug has been short on sleep and long on stimulation. Let's just say it's interfering with her usual cuteness, but she really DOES steal your heart when she dances. (She does that graceful thing with her fingers...breaks my heart! Chicken KNEW how to do it--but she never had the confidence to pull it off. Soccer really is her home.)
Big T has never been so happy. The Junior year is a good one!
Knittech and I both agree that the people who put out this trailer are complete fuckers because it just makes us want MORE! I mean, c'mon-- tasty veal starts the apocalypse and just disappears for two months. So. Not. Fair. (In their defense, there is an 8 minute trailer on youtube that is going to have my complete attention after the short people are in bed.)
And I've renamed my new pre- Jack & Teague WIP "Promise Rock"--and it's breaking my heart. Also (and this can never be said enough) Roxie liked my BO-OK, Roxie liked my BO-OK. I'm thinking Rampant may be okay... I'll still worry myself silly, but I'm thinking we may be okay.
Oh yeah... one more thing.
I dyed my hair rabid cranberry red. I screwed it up-you can still see my orange/brown/gray roots. And the back didn't suck up ANY dye at all. It's all dark brown. I guess we'll have to just go with "I look like a moron" and hope I can find a bottle of dye to match the last one and fix this shit, or I'll be known as "That crazy teacher wearing the paper bag!" OI!
And as a finale?
I cashed my check from Dreamspinner Press today. Hey... the news can't be ALL bad!
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Sundays Can Be Random Too
* True Blood was on tonight. My love for Eric Northman may never eclipse my love for Dean Winchester, but until Dean shows up and kicks Satan's ass, it will have to do. And I can live with that.
* I spent much of my day sleeping, some of it reading, some of it knitting, some of it writing, some of it folding clothes while watching Season 3 of Angst & Demon Killing Veal, and some of it sitting on the couch with kids on my lap. Some people might say that it was a lazy day, but I say I accomplished everything I set out to do. I even took a walk.
* The kids start school tomorrow. As soon as I log off here, Mate and I will set about the ritual celebration dance-this is best done in private, since neither of our genetic pools have the rhythm or athleticism to make this dance look good. Suffice it to say the joy is still there.
* I love it when Mate gets all sucked into television. He's really adorable.
* we went out to dinner with my parents last night at their favorite Chinese restaurant to celebrate my dad's 63rd b-day. I gave him a hat which came out REALLY good, and all of his grandkids (and the kids of my mom's best friend, who call him Uncle Pete) showed up. It was all he wanted, and he was really happy, and (I thought this was cute) the staff at Wongs know him so well that they gave him a big box of almond cookies as a gift. Happy B-Day, Daddy--you really are buckets of awesome.
* In spite of having $-0 in the bank, Mate brought home take out tonight. This was probably not wise, but for two nights in a row, I got to have my favorite dish--some of you may enjoy this one too. It's called The Food I Did Not Have To Cook, and unless it's a salami-and-greenbean-omelette, it's usually quite tasty.
* One of the ladies at gymnastics asked me to make her SO a hat--she'll pay me. Of course, I'm not doing it for the yarn money. I'm doing it because the request sort of pickled me tink!
* Curmudgeonly Colleague told me the other day that he'd read the dirty parts of Vulnerable, so he knew for sure that I wrote porn. I was too flabbergasted by the complete fly in his puree of logic to point out that if all he reads is the dirty parts, all he's going to see me write is PORN!
* That being said--I'm fourteen pages into Please Don't, my m/m work that I'm trying to finish before I'm scheduled to start on Jack & Teague: Part V (Becoming). I'm sort of in love with this story-- it's another one that seems to be hatching fully formed in my brain, and Dek (a troublemaker with a chip on his shoulder and a pure, unshakeable love and faith in the boy who saves him from himself) is rapidly becoming a favorite. I am also as much in love with Deacon Winters as Dek is. Thanks, Knittech, for the inspiration on this one--I promise a happy ending and a four hankie read! (And, uhm, fourteen pages in, I guarantee that the only nudity so far is a rather sweet swimming hole scene, with nothing popping up but a little surprise.)
* I also know what the next Little Goddess book is going to be about--but I'm not going to disclose the name until I release Rampant. The name of book V sort of has a spoiler to the end of book IV-- but don't worry, folks, I'm still going to be working on it!
* You all were so awesome about Florence's story--I TOLD you it was buckets of awesome! Florence, thanks for letting me put up that link! I think you made a lot of folks' day!
* I've discovered the downside to all of that fun publishing stuff last week. Remember that rat that got hooked on cocaine, and he kept pushing the button delivering the drug instead of the one that gave him food or water? yeah. Now I'm like that with my e-mail.
* So of course my computer was out of commission for sixteen hours this weekend. It was horrible. I needed some sort of skin patch to hold me over and keep my hands from shaking. It's all better now--Thanks Mate!
* And off I go. Deacon and Dek are pleading to find their home on the page.
(Edited to add: I just found out that someone named her son after Bracken! I knew one lovely person named her CAR after our favorite surly elf, but this is the first child named after him! I'm SOOOOOOOOOO tickled!)
* I spent much of my day sleeping, some of it reading, some of it knitting, some of it writing, some of it folding clothes while watching Season 3 of Angst & Demon Killing Veal, and some of it sitting on the couch with kids on my lap. Some people might say that it was a lazy day, but I say I accomplished everything I set out to do. I even took a walk.
* The kids start school tomorrow. As soon as I log off here, Mate and I will set about the ritual celebration dance-this is best done in private, since neither of our genetic pools have the rhythm or athleticism to make this dance look good. Suffice it to say the joy is still there.
* I love it when Mate gets all sucked into television. He's really adorable.
* we went out to dinner with my parents last night at their favorite Chinese restaurant to celebrate my dad's 63rd b-day. I gave him a hat which came out REALLY good, and all of his grandkids (and the kids of my mom's best friend, who call him Uncle Pete) showed up. It was all he wanted, and he was really happy, and (I thought this was cute) the staff at Wongs know him so well that they gave him a big box of almond cookies as a gift. Happy B-Day, Daddy--you really are buckets of awesome.
* In spite of having $-0 in the bank, Mate brought home take out tonight. This was probably not wise, but for two nights in a row, I got to have my favorite dish--some of you may enjoy this one too. It's called The Food I Did Not Have To Cook, and unless it's a salami-and-greenbean-omelette, it's usually quite tasty.
* One of the ladies at gymnastics asked me to make her SO a hat--she'll pay me. Of course, I'm not doing it for the yarn money. I'm doing it because the request sort of pickled me tink!
* Curmudgeonly Colleague told me the other day that he'd read the dirty parts of Vulnerable, so he knew for sure that I wrote porn. I was too flabbergasted by the complete fly in his puree of logic to point out that if all he reads is the dirty parts, all he's going to see me write is PORN!
* That being said--I'm fourteen pages into Please Don't, my m/m work that I'm trying to finish before I'm scheduled to start on Jack & Teague: Part V (Becoming). I'm sort of in love with this story-- it's another one that seems to be hatching fully formed in my brain, and Dek (a troublemaker with a chip on his shoulder and a pure, unshakeable love and faith in the boy who saves him from himself) is rapidly becoming a favorite. I am also as much in love with Deacon Winters as Dek is. Thanks, Knittech, for the inspiration on this one--I promise a happy ending and a four hankie read! (And, uhm, fourteen pages in, I guarantee that the only nudity so far is a rather sweet swimming hole scene, with nothing popping up but a little surprise.)
* I also know what the next Little Goddess book is going to be about--but I'm not going to disclose the name until I release Rampant. The name of book V sort of has a spoiler to the end of book IV-- but don't worry, folks, I'm still going to be working on it!
* You all were so awesome about Florence's story--I TOLD you it was buckets of awesome! Florence, thanks for letting me put up that link! I think you made a lot of folks' day!
* I've discovered the downside to all of that fun publishing stuff last week. Remember that rat that got hooked on cocaine, and he kept pushing the button delivering the drug instead of the one that gave him food or water? yeah. Now I'm like that with my e-mail.
* So of course my computer was out of commission for sixteen hours this weekend. It was horrible. I needed some sort of skin patch to hold me over and keep my hands from shaking. It's all better now--Thanks Mate!
* And off I go. Deacon and Dek are pleading to find their home on the page.
(Edited to add: I just found out that someone named her son after Bracken! I knew one lovely person named her CAR after our favorite surly elf, but this is the first child named after him! I'm SOOOOOOOOOO tickled!)
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Oh yeah... and school started!
Seriously--in the middle of all this writing stuff, I've got to TEACH? And what about the kids? They seem to need CLOTHES? And we've got SOCCER GAMES? Doesn't the world know I need a day to just let my head spin and bask?
*sigh* Apparently, basking is not in the itinerary. Neither is exercising--I not only miss my water aerobics, I miss my walks! I'm DEFINITELY going to have to get back on THAT wagon!
And as for visiting blogs? WWWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! I miss you guys--but I have to say, all those congrats in the comments were extraordinarily cool. I've said it before--me has the bestest fans in all of explored space. Thank you--it means a lot to me! (Uhm, you all know I'm writing m/m erotic romance for this gig, right? Just, you know, in case I wasn't specific... I mean, my grandma said "Good for you!" but not everybody is grandma.)
I finished the last three uber-shorts and sent them in--I'm hoping they're okay. Once the contract was signed I was like, "Wow. you guys are just going to TRUST me not to fuck up the last half of this story? Well... if you say so!" I'm thinking it's not so fucked up, but I'm sure they won't hesitate to tell me!
And now, for something completely different--and, in fact, something that really flipped my switch!
fawatson (as she is known in the comments) actually wrote me a story. I was SO pleased--and the story is HILARIOUS. If you all remember the blog entry titled 'Fucking Rat'? Well, I made a brief mention of the time Jasmine the Rat passed away. It was two weeks before Cave Troll was born--and my last day of work. It was Halloween. Chicken (then nine years old) had a costume and everything all picked out, and she was so excited--she was going to go across the street to participate in the church activities etc., and instead, she found Jasmine, still alive but not long for this world. Mate and I were at a loss--we got a heating pad (there had been a temperature drop the night before) and put Jasmine on it and pumped her little chest until she just gave up the little rat ghost. And I (exhausted, pregnant, constipated, pregnant, and exhausted) cried with Chicken for about four hours. Bad story, right?
Well, Florence (fawatson:-) had a MUCH better story in mind!
Read it and enjoy, folks--I know I did!
*sigh* Apparently, basking is not in the itinerary. Neither is exercising--I not only miss my water aerobics, I miss my walks! I'm DEFINITELY going to have to get back on THAT wagon!
And as for visiting blogs? WWWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! I miss you guys--but I have to say, all those congrats in the comments were extraordinarily cool. I've said it before--me has the bestest fans in all of explored space. Thank you--it means a lot to me! (Uhm, you all know I'm writing m/m erotic romance for this gig, right? Just, you know, in case I wasn't specific... I mean, my grandma said "Good for you!" but not everybody is grandma.)
I finished the last three uber-shorts and sent them in--I'm hoping they're okay. Once the contract was signed I was like, "Wow. you guys are just going to TRUST me not to fuck up the last half of this story? Well... if you say so!" I'm thinking it's not so fucked up, but I'm sure they won't hesitate to tell me!
And now, for something completely different--and, in fact, something that really flipped my switch!
fawatson (as she is known in the comments) actually wrote me a story. I was SO pleased--and the story is HILARIOUS. If you all remember the blog entry titled 'Fucking Rat'? Well, I made a brief mention of the time Jasmine the Rat passed away. It was two weeks before Cave Troll was born--and my last day of work. It was Halloween. Chicken (then nine years old) had a costume and everything all picked out, and she was so excited--she was going to go across the street to participate in the church activities etc., and instead, she found Jasmine, still alive but not long for this world. Mate and I were at a loss--we got a heating pad (there had been a temperature drop the night before) and put Jasmine on it and pumped her little chest until she just gave up the little rat ghost. And I (exhausted, pregnant, constipated, pregnant, and exhausted) cried with Chicken for about four hours. Bad story, right?
Well, Florence (fawatson:-) had a MUCH better story in mind!
Read it and enjoy, folks--I know I did!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Holy Shit, I'm Legit!
DUDES! You will NOT believe the day I had!
Okay--school was okay. Well, school had real shit potential, actually. The Junior class (all three of my sections are Juniors) are spinning screaming through roll permutations like a gerbil in a gyroscope--I lose five, I get six. And this will probably go on for a couple of weeks, and, yeah, it leaves me absolutely fucking dizzy. Leaves everyone else that way too-- but 200 of the kids who signed up at the beginning didn't show up (it's usually the exact reverse--we get 200 MORE than we had at the beginning) and let's just say that thanks to the Governator, we have NO room for error--or for room in our classrooms. And all of our safety net teachers have been laid off. It can only get worse--but my kids have been EXTRA sweet, and I still am not stressing. (Someone call the cops--I think they put a roofie or something in my daily soda!)
And, after a day during which my internals kept trying hard to be my externals (I have no idea why, but the toilet was my FRIEND!) I came home from Ladybug's dance lessons thinking of fixing a nice mild dinner of top ramen (cause we're poor that way right now) and found that Big T was thoughtful enough to cook dinner instead.
I got a salami and green bean omelette. Have I mentioned that the toilet is my FRIEND? Because we're about to go talk about old times for the umpteenth time tonight.
But that roofie might still be at work, because I'm all good.
Or maybe, just maybe, my even keel can be attributed to the following things:
A. I sent RAMPANT off today--it's heading for Roxie first and Needletart second (uhm, because I didn't write down all of Needletart's address, that's why...) and I'll get some feedback on my baby. I'm sort of worried. As I wrap this one up, I keep getting e-mail and reviews about the first three, and now I'm just FREAKING OUT that this one won't live up to the others. Talk about pressure! I feels it!
B. I got the COOLEST letter today from an old student who has been reading the books to keep her sane during medical school. DUDES! Cool. Just unbefuckingbelievably cool!
B. Uhm, you may remember I mentioned something or other about a supershort that Dreamspinner published with their newsletter? Uhm-hm... and that I'd submitted a story to them for a collection they were publishing? Uh-hm. Well, last night I submitted a second installment to that supershort--completely for the hell of it. Not for money, not because I thought they'd publish it--just because the editing staff seemed VERY excited about the first one, and I was between WIPS and I thought they'd like the second one.
Okay...this gets complex.
I got a very nice e-mail today saying that SHIRT (the name of the story) wasn't really going to work for their anthology, but maybe I should resubmit it to one of their other departments. I was THRILLED. I sent back an e-mail asking which editor I should send it to.
I got back another e-mail saying, "Hold on a minute... we need to finish this conference call. We've got an idea..."
Of course I got that RIGHT before I had to take off to soccer/dance etc. so waiting for that idea was AGONY! But when I got back, it was worth it.
Dudes--I'm legit.
Dreamspinner press is going to publish my supershorts and the short story (titled Shirt) and they've asked me if I can write a couple more supershorts for them. This anthology is set to be reviewed by mainstream women's magazines when it comes out. I'm published. I've been accepted. Not the way I ever planned, but... but... DAMN.
I'm invited to the party.
Holy Goddess, Merciful God, REALLY let me not suck this time.
Canyagimmehallelujia? AMEN.
Okay--school was okay. Well, school had real shit potential, actually. The Junior class (all three of my sections are Juniors) are spinning screaming through roll permutations like a gerbil in a gyroscope--I lose five, I get six. And this will probably go on for a couple of weeks, and, yeah, it leaves me absolutely fucking dizzy. Leaves everyone else that way too-- but 200 of the kids who signed up at the beginning didn't show up (it's usually the exact reverse--we get 200 MORE than we had at the beginning) and let's just say that thanks to the Governator, we have NO room for error--or for room in our classrooms. And all of our safety net teachers have been laid off. It can only get worse--but my kids have been EXTRA sweet, and I still am not stressing. (Someone call the cops--I think they put a roofie or something in my daily soda!)
And, after a day during which my internals kept trying hard to be my externals (I have no idea why, but the toilet was my FRIEND!) I came home from Ladybug's dance lessons thinking of fixing a nice mild dinner of top ramen (cause we're poor that way right now) and found that Big T was thoughtful enough to cook dinner instead.
I got a salami and green bean omelette. Have I mentioned that the toilet is my FRIEND? Because we're about to go talk about old times for the umpteenth time tonight.
But that roofie might still be at work, because I'm all good.
Or maybe, just maybe, my even keel can be attributed to the following things:
A. I sent RAMPANT off today--it's heading for Roxie first and Needletart second (uhm, because I didn't write down all of Needletart's address, that's why...) and I'll get some feedback on my baby. I'm sort of worried. As I wrap this one up, I keep getting e-mail and reviews about the first three, and now I'm just FREAKING OUT that this one won't live up to the others. Talk about pressure! I feels it!
B. I got the COOLEST letter today from an old student who has been reading the books to keep her sane during medical school. DUDES! Cool. Just unbefuckingbelievably cool!
B. Uhm, you may remember I mentioned something or other about a supershort that Dreamspinner published with their newsletter? Uhm-hm... and that I'd submitted a story to them for a collection they were publishing? Uh-hm. Well, last night I submitted a second installment to that supershort--completely for the hell of it. Not for money, not because I thought they'd publish it--just because the editing staff seemed VERY excited about the first one, and I was between WIPS and I thought they'd like the second one.
Okay...this gets complex.
I got a very nice e-mail today saying that SHIRT (the name of the story) wasn't really going to work for their anthology, but maybe I should resubmit it to one of their other departments. I was THRILLED. I sent back an e-mail asking which editor I should send it to.
I got back another e-mail saying, "Hold on a minute... we need to finish this conference call. We've got an idea..."
Of course I got that RIGHT before I had to take off to soccer/dance etc. so waiting for that idea was AGONY! But when I got back, it was worth it.
Dudes--I'm legit.
Dreamspinner press is going to publish my supershorts and the short story (titled Shirt) and they've asked me if I can write a couple more supershorts for them. This anthology is set to be reviewed by mainstream women's magazines when it comes out. I'm published. I've been accepted. Not the way I ever planned, but... but... DAMN.
I'm invited to the party.
Holy Goddess, Merciful God, REALLY let me not suck this time.
Canyagimmehallelujia? AMEN.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
The Cave Troll Grows Up.
I don't know when it happened--but it was obvious this weekend.
The Cave Troll has become an official smartass. You think I'm kidding? No, no... listen--all this shit happened THIS WEEKEND!
Incident the first: Yesterday was soccer season's opening day. Everybody (except Big T, who stayed home, cleaned the house and watched The Godfather, bless his heart) woke up at six in the morning and went out to the soccer field for the parade/presentation, kick-a-thon, and two exhibition games. Waking up was brutal--remember, I'm the only one who has gone back to her regular routine--everyone else is still on summer hours, right?
"C'mon, Cave Troll. Up and atem...time to move!" (Repeat, several times.)
"Moooommmm... stop yelling at me!"
"I'm not yelling at you, buddy--you've got to move!"
Now picture the Cave Troll, bugging out his eyes and waving his hands in the air. My eyebrows hit my hairline.
"Was that you moving?" I ask, shocked by the level of sarcasm this would entail.
"Yup," he said, sticking out a smug little lower lip.
"Hmmm." Little shit!
Incident the second: The day is over. It has been long and brutal--Ladybug has dragged me across the field twice to go potty, only to lose it on the way back from the portajohn, necessitating a fifth (or is that sixth) jaunt across the fields for new pants. Everyone is hot, tired, fried to a crisp, and grumpy, but Mate and Chicken are discussing Chicken's coach, because her coach this year is hella cool.
"Yeah," says Mate, "Chris is a no-pressure coach. He'll give you an example, or he'll ask you to step up your game, but he doesn't yell at you. I try to be that way--I like being a low pressure coach. I figure at this age, if they know where the ball is, it's a win!"
"You're not a low-pressure coach!" says Cave Troll.
"No?" says Mate.
"You're a tire pressure coach."
"A tire pressure coach?"
"Yeah... you coach us, and everybody gets tired!"
Can I repeat? Little shit!
And incident the third.
I was sitting at my computer, finishing round two edit of RAMPANT (which means Needletart and Roxie are going to be busy as soon as I can print that puppy out and send it) and drinking a soda.
The Cave Troll comes by and says "Mom, shut your eyes."
I shut my eyes but I peek. "Hey--give me back my soda!"
"Mooooommmmm! I told you to shut your eyes!!!"
I shut my eyes and watched as he gulped half my soda and then put it back.
"You can open your eyes now, mom."
Say it with me now! Little shit!
And so it has happened. The apple has aged, matured, and fallen from the Sardonic Tree. The little shit is right on my heels!
(Btw? Mate was a fanTABulous coach. All the other parents love him. "He's so organized! He's so fair!" I'm so glad I signed him up! It's about all I can take credit for, really! Oh yeah--and Ladybug has started dance. Today, we bought a ballerina outfit. She is SO proud! I'll try to take pictures on Tuesday... big awwwwww factor there, trust me!)
The Cave Troll has become an official smartass. You think I'm kidding? No, no... listen--all this shit happened THIS WEEKEND!
Incident the first: Yesterday was soccer season's opening day. Everybody (except Big T, who stayed home, cleaned the house and watched The Godfather, bless his heart) woke up at six in the morning and went out to the soccer field for the parade/presentation, kick-a-thon, and two exhibition games. Waking up was brutal--remember, I'm the only one who has gone back to her regular routine--everyone else is still on summer hours, right?
"C'mon, Cave Troll. Up and atem...time to move!" (Repeat, several times.)
"Moooommmm... stop yelling at me!"
"I'm not yelling at you, buddy--you've got to move!"
Now picture the Cave Troll, bugging out his eyes and waving his hands in the air. My eyebrows hit my hairline.
"Was that you moving?" I ask, shocked by the level of sarcasm this would entail.
"Yup," he said, sticking out a smug little lower lip.
"Hmmm." Little shit!
Incident the second: The day is over. It has been long and brutal--Ladybug has dragged me across the field twice to go potty, only to lose it on the way back from the portajohn, necessitating a fifth (or is that sixth) jaunt across the fields for new pants. Everyone is hot, tired, fried to a crisp, and grumpy, but Mate and Chicken are discussing Chicken's coach, because her coach this year is hella cool.
"Yeah," says Mate, "Chris is a no-pressure coach. He'll give you an example, or he'll ask you to step up your game, but he doesn't yell at you. I try to be that way--I like being a low pressure coach. I figure at this age, if they know where the ball is, it's a win!"
"You're not a low-pressure coach!" says Cave Troll.
"No?" says Mate.
"You're a tire pressure coach."
"A tire pressure coach?"
"Yeah... you coach us, and everybody gets tired!"
Can I repeat? Little shit!
And incident the third.
I was sitting at my computer, finishing round two edit of RAMPANT (which means Needletart and Roxie are going to be busy as soon as I can print that puppy out and send it) and drinking a soda.
The Cave Troll comes by and says "Mom, shut your eyes."
I shut my eyes but I peek. "Hey--give me back my soda!"
"Mooooommmmm! I told you to shut your eyes!!!"
I shut my eyes and watched as he gulped half my soda and then put it back.
"You can open your eyes now, mom."
Say it with me now! Little shit!
And so it has happened. The apple has aged, matured, and fallen from the Sardonic Tree. The little shit is right on my heels!
(Btw? Mate was a fanTABulous coach. All the other parents love him. "He's so organized! He's so fair!" I'm so glad I signed him up! It's about all I can take credit for, really! Oh yeah--and Ladybug has started dance. Today, we bought a ballerina outfit. She is SO proud! I'll try to take pictures on Tuesday... big awwwwww factor there, trust me!)
Friday, August 14, 2009
Good shit...
Okay-- some good moments and some funny moments this week. Let's see if I can remember some of them randomly.
Chicken: "Mom! I thought you were watching Buffy with us!"
Me: "I am! But Buffy's gone all darkside and I hate watching those episodes."
Shocked silence.
Chicken: "FOUR SEASONS OF SUPERNATURAL, AND YOU HATE THOSE EPISODES?"
Me, smiling sheepishly. "What can I say, sweetie. Mama's a spaz."
Chicken: "MO-OOOOOOMMMMMMMM!"
"Well, darling, I guess that would make you the spawn of spaz, wouldn't it?"
And then there was...
"Ladybug! You can either get naked and take a shower, or go to bed!"
"I'm naked, Mom!"
"Good--let's go take a shower!"
"Noooooooooo...." You had to hear the tone of her voice as she ran down the hall with her little butt-cheeks bouncing in the breeze. Trust me--it was high comedy.
And at school this happened...
Student: "Hey--what's number four?"
Me: "That would be the number between three and five, dear."
And then, as I was telling the above story to my husband and daughter:
Me: "So this kid said, 'Hey, what's number four?' and I said..."
Mate: "Vomit AND diarrhea?"
Chicken and I were so stunned that we let him regale us with the full rendition of the diarrhea song from Parenthood. Good times.
The Cave Troll informed me of this today:
"Mom--do you have eyes in your fingertips when you reach behind your back to find me?"
"Uhm. Yeah. Sure."
"Good. Me too."
And my curmudgeonly colleague (who doesn't sound at all curmudgeonly in this story) made this observation about Big T:
Me: "Yeah-- just because T is the size of a Mac truck, people keep thinking he should play football."
C.C.: "Does your son have a single mean bone in his body?"
Me: "Not. Even. One."
C.C." "Yeah. Football probably not such a good idea."
Yup. There's a reason we haven't killed each other after nearly twelve years.
And in addition:
I got to watch Mate coach soccer. It was like watching a rabbit herding fish. Again, high comedy. (He's so good with the little fritters... seriously--I'm so glad he's doing it!)
Roxie who loves me sent me a skein of STR called Crabby McCrabbypants. CAN YOU JUST DIE? Too perfect--an awesome capper to a not-bad first week. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU Roxie!
I got an e-mail from my children yesterday while I was sitting at my desk. The kids had been in the house, trapped like rats all week, without a single fast-food run in sight, and they were rapidly running out of both milk AND Kool-aid. The e-mail said simply: Mom, PLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZZZZZZZZEEE bring food. Kids hungry.
Classic!
And my classes are pretty darned cool at the moment. No guarantees they'll stay that way, but then, no guarantees I will either! Tomorrow we have opening day for soccer. LONG. ASSED. DAY. I'll tell you about it on Sunday!
Chicken: "Mom! I thought you were watching Buffy with us!"
Me: "I am! But Buffy's gone all darkside and I hate watching those episodes."
Shocked silence.
Chicken: "FOUR SEASONS OF SUPERNATURAL, AND YOU HATE THOSE EPISODES?"
Me, smiling sheepishly. "What can I say, sweetie. Mama's a spaz."
Chicken: "MO-OOOOOOMMMMMMMM!"
"Well, darling, I guess that would make you the spawn of spaz, wouldn't it?"
And then there was...
"Ladybug! You can either get naked and take a shower, or go to bed!"
"I'm naked, Mom!"
"Good--let's go take a shower!"
"Noooooooooo...." You had to hear the tone of her voice as she ran down the hall with her little butt-cheeks bouncing in the breeze. Trust me--it was high comedy.
And at school this happened...
Student: "Hey--what's number four?"
Me: "That would be the number between three and five, dear."
And then, as I was telling the above story to my husband and daughter:
Me: "So this kid said, 'Hey, what's number four?' and I said..."
Mate: "Vomit AND diarrhea?"
Chicken and I were so stunned that we let him regale us with the full rendition of the diarrhea song from Parenthood. Good times.
The Cave Troll informed me of this today:
"Mom--do you have eyes in your fingertips when you reach behind your back to find me?"
"Uhm. Yeah. Sure."
"Good. Me too."
And my curmudgeonly colleague (who doesn't sound at all curmudgeonly in this story) made this observation about Big T:
Me: "Yeah-- just because T is the size of a Mac truck, people keep thinking he should play football."
C.C.: "Does your son have a single mean bone in his body?"
Me: "Not. Even. One."
C.C." "Yeah. Football probably not such a good idea."
Yup. There's a reason we haven't killed each other after nearly twelve years.
And in addition:
I got to watch Mate coach soccer. It was like watching a rabbit herding fish. Again, high comedy. (He's so good with the little fritters... seriously--I'm so glad he's doing it!)
Roxie who loves me sent me a skein of STR called Crabby McCrabbypants. CAN YOU JUST DIE? Too perfect--an awesome capper to a not-bad first week. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU Roxie!
I got an e-mail from my children yesterday while I was sitting at my desk. The kids had been in the house, trapped like rats all week, without a single fast-food run in sight, and they were rapidly running out of both milk AND Kool-aid. The e-mail said simply: Mom, PLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZZZZZZZZEEE bring food. Kids hungry.
Classic!
And my classes are pretty darned cool at the moment. No guarantees they'll stay that way, but then, no guarantees I will either! Tomorrow we have opening day for soccer. LONG. ASSED. DAY. I'll tell you about it on Sunday!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Gotta luv it...
Okay... long day,
Kids did play,
Teacher's say
Homework pays!
Soccer fun--
Does our kid run?
Mate doesn't know--
It's his show.
Little boys
With soccer toys
Slapping face
All over the place
They don't care--
It's that or stare
At all the dust
That's everywhere.
Big kids
Sleep a lot
Ooops, they're caught!
It's five o'clock!
The house is wrecked
And dinner's dreck
And we've still got
To drive a lot!
(Couldn't they at least
Have not fought
With their siblings
About zilch and naught?)
Teachers meet
About pay and shit--
I let smarter folks
Than I handle it!
Between my class
And the meet that passed
I edited til
Words came out my ass.
Closed my eyes,
In my room I slept
Quiet I kept
Until a kid came
HIs books to get--
(Good thing he's cool,
Or I'd feel like a fool!)
Crappy rhyme,
But tv time
My big kids need
Attention sublime--
I got no skills,
But I know the drill
We sit and we talk
Then watch our fill.
Leverage Wednesday
Then watch Buff-ay
Until my boys
Return on Thursday.
Dean and Sam
Dear veal and ham,
When I watch you guys
How happy I am!
Alas I still
Have a month to fill...
Until then,
I'll live with my yen.
And now I need
Your pardon to plead.
My rhymes are shit--
I'm through with it...
I'll be back I swear--
With words more fair.
Until now I fear...
I'm outta here!
(Seriously-- better blog tomorrow or Friday. This just sort of popped out on my keyboard and I thought I'd leave it for the moment:-)
Kids did play,
Teacher's say
Homework pays!
Soccer fun--
Does our kid run?
Mate doesn't know--
It's his show.
Little boys
With soccer toys
Slapping face
All over the place
They don't care--
It's that or stare
At all the dust
That's everywhere.
Big kids
Sleep a lot
Ooops, they're caught!
It's five o'clock!
The house is wrecked
And dinner's dreck
And we've still got
To drive a lot!
(Couldn't they at least
Have not fought
With their siblings
About zilch and naught?)
Teachers meet
About pay and shit--
I let smarter folks
Than I handle it!
Between my class
And the meet that passed
I edited til
Words came out my ass.
Closed my eyes,
In my room I slept
Quiet I kept
Until a kid came
HIs books to get--
(Good thing he's cool,
Or I'd feel like a fool!)
Crappy rhyme,
But tv time
My big kids need
Attention sublime--
I got no skills,
But I know the drill
We sit and we talk
Then watch our fill.
Leverage Wednesday
Then watch Buff-ay
Until my boys
Return on Thursday.
Dean and Sam
Dear veal and ham,
When I watch you guys
How happy I am!
Alas I still
Have a month to fill...
Until then,
I'll live with my yen.
And now I need
Your pardon to plead.
My rhymes are shit--
I'm through with it...
I'll be back I swear--
With words more fair.
Until now I fear...
I'm outta here!
(Seriously-- better blog tomorrow or Friday. This just sort of popped out on my keyboard and I thought I'd leave it for the moment:-)
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
The Cover of Bound
A lot of folks have been asking what bridge is on the cover of BOUND? The answer?
The Foresthill Bridge in CA is the tallest bridge in CA and one of the four tallest in the continental U.S. And there's a great view both FROM the bridge, and OF the bridge right here:
Foresthill Bridge
The Foresthill Bridge in CA is the tallest bridge in CA and one of the four tallest in the continental U.S. And there's a great view both FROM the bridge, and OF the bridge right here:
Foresthill Bridge
Monday, August 10, 2009
Denial eventually leads to the see...
Get it? Not just a river in Egypt, right?
*sigh* Yeah, whatever...
Anyway, long day at school. It was actually good to be back. The thing with the chairs ROCKED! I'm totally going to keep them like that. "D's, stand up, move two spaces around clockwise. There's your new seat." Completely impersonal, and that one thing changes the total class dynamic. One of my students from last year came in (to listen to a story, because he's just cool that way and he knows I luvs him) and said, "Gees, Ms. Lane--that's brilliant!" *g* Dja hear that? I'm brilliant!
And it's funny--every year I go back, convinced that I'm too bitter and too sarcastic for this gig... and every year I run into students I totally get and who get me. See--there IS room for the bitter, sardonic literary hag at the modern high school--I really CAN be happy in my job. Of course, everybody needs to go find this entry in six weeks, when I want everyone dead, painfully. Is that a pact?
And on the home front... well, I came home, sat in my chair with my kids, napped until it was time to go workout, came home to an almost empty house and edited until the kids got home.
Something's hella wrong with that picture, but I can't tell you what it is. Anyway, I sounded a lot more together today than I usually do--maybe it's a good year after all!
*yawn* Anyway, that's about all I got... literally. chicken made lasagna for dinner--why didn't anyone tell me that's a soporific? (Wait, it's not? Really? Then WHY am I so tired? Forget it... I'm dozing off during the explanation.) See you all later, when maybe I'm not a basket case!
*sigh* Yeah, whatever...
Anyway, long day at school. It was actually good to be back. The thing with the chairs ROCKED! I'm totally going to keep them like that. "D's, stand up, move two spaces around clockwise. There's your new seat." Completely impersonal, and that one thing changes the total class dynamic. One of my students from last year came in (to listen to a story, because he's just cool that way and he knows I luvs him) and said, "Gees, Ms. Lane--that's brilliant!" *g* Dja hear that? I'm brilliant!
And it's funny--every year I go back, convinced that I'm too bitter and too sarcastic for this gig... and every year I run into students I totally get and who get me. See--there IS room for the bitter, sardonic literary hag at the modern high school--I really CAN be happy in my job. Of course, everybody needs to go find this entry in six weeks, when I want everyone dead, painfully. Is that a pact?
And on the home front... well, I came home, sat in my chair with my kids, napped until it was time to go workout, came home to an almost empty house and edited until the kids got home.
Something's hella wrong with that picture, but I can't tell you what it is. Anyway, I sounded a lot more together today than I usually do--maybe it's a good year after all!
*yawn* Anyway, that's about all I got... literally. chicken made lasagna for dinner--why didn't anyone tell me that's a soporific? (Wait, it's not? Really? Then WHY am I so tired? Forget it... I'm dozing off during the explanation.) See you all later, when maybe I'm not a basket case!
Saturday, August 8, 2009
The Circle Game
You guys remember that song? "And the wheel is going round and round, the whole wide world is upside down..."
So yeah. We're in the circle game--and welcome back to my complete insanity. School is starting again.
I spent part of my day there--mostly working on my room. I would have liked to have said 'making copies', but thanks to Gov. Arnold, and his 12 furlough days for the classified staff, there wasn't a soul in the principal's office to help me w/the copier--that is assuming there were any supplies for it anyway! It's funny-- our current principal once said that he liked me because he was pretty sure I could teach given a stone tablet and a stylus. I just never really thought it would come down to that!
Anyway, I changed up my room, and I'm going to experiment with group seating--which is something I've NEVER done, even when it was popular, but I like the way it makes my room look--and the way it gets kids out of corners, since they tend to do more collateral damage when they're next to walls. I've also coded the seats--group 1, 2, etc., and seat a,b,c, & d within the groups. Let's say huzzah for classroom management, shall we? (Now seriously, I've never been the teacher that molly-coddled the classroom management thing. I've always been of the "Sit down and for Christ's sakes shut up, and you'll figure out what the fuck we're doing" flavor of teacher, but I figured "What the hell?" Besides, I like the idea of changing seats by saying, "Okay, all the 'D's stand up and walk two numbers up. Now all the A's stand up and walk two numbers back. Now all the B's, stand up and walk one number up." And there you go--a completely randomized seating chart.
And hey--the good news! Two of the people I NEVER see enough of are back working at school (their district and state jobs were demolished, so they got sent back into the pit.) Whereas they were both of the "FUUUUUUUUUCCCKKKKKKK!" variety of 'tude about the move, I, being the self-confessed self-centered, self-absorbed uber-bitch that I am was THRILLED to see them both. WE CAN VISIT NOW! Of course, they were probably not so happy to see me, since I'm the flake that never gets my head out of my own ass to seem them in my off-hours, but, well... if they'll spend the odd lunch with me, their duty to this talentless hanger-onner shall be fulfilled.
Oh... hey. We went and saw a movie today. If any of you have the burr up your ass to see "Aliens in the Attic", uhm, RIP THAT FUCKER OUT BEFORE IT CAN DO ANY MORE HARM. Nuff said. And btw? Damn that writer's strike two years ago anyway. Not only did it deprive me of six episodes of Supernatural (Season 3, people... Dean was gonna die and I could have ridden that angst wave for frikkin' EVER), but it's making me desperate enough to squander my hard earned green on something that looks, walks, talks and shits like a dog, because sisterhood, did I step in it with this one!
And for those of you who checked out the website--THANK YOU! Lovely Sexy Green really does need more exposure because Archer did a FANTABULOUS job on him. (In fact, she suggested more than exposed, bless her, because I can look at that picture and follow that suggestion for hours of entertainment.) And for those of you who read Jack & Teague's new story, thank you too! Don't forget to e-mail me and tell me if you thought it was worthy--I've been telling people that it was hard to write, because I REALLY put Teague through the wringer with this one.
And Roxie and Needletart? I'm working on that second edit now... as soon as it's done, RAMPANT will be printed and wringing it's way to you!
So I'll let you know about that first day of school... but for now, I'm gonna make the family watch some more Buffy episodes and pretend it's not happening!
So yeah. We're in the circle game--and welcome back to my complete insanity. School is starting again.
I spent part of my day there--mostly working on my room. I would have liked to have said 'making copies', but thanks to Gov. Arnold, and his 12 furlough days for the classified staff, there wasn't a soul in the principal's office to help me w/the copier--that is assuming there were any supplies for it anyway! It's funny-- our current principal once said that he liked me because he was pretty sure I could teach given a stone tablet and a stylus. I just never really thought it would come down to that!
Anyway, I changed up my room, and I'm going to experiment with group seating--which is something I've NEVER done, even when it was popular, but I like the way it makes my room look--and the way it gets kids out of corners, since they tend to do more collateral damage when they're next to walls. I've also coded the seats--group 1, 2, etc., and seat a,b,c, & d within the groups. Let's say huzzah for classroom management, shall we? (Now seriously, I've never been the teacher that molly-coddled the classroom management thing. I've always been of the "Sit down and for Christ's sakes shut up, and you'll figure out what the fuck we're doing" flavor of teacher, but I figured "What the hell?" Besides, I like the idea of changing seats by saying, "Okay, all the 'D's stand up and walk two numbers up. Now all the A's stand up and walk two numbers back. Now all the B's, stand up and walk one number up." And there you go--a completely randomized seating chart.
And hey--the good news! Two of the people I NEVER see enough of are back working at school (their district and state jobs were demolished, so they got sent back into the pit.) Whereas they were both of the "FUUUUUUUUUCCCKKKKKKK!" variety of 'tude about the move, I, being the self-confessed self-centered, self-absorbed uber-bitch that I am was THRILLED to see them both. WE CAN VISIT NOW! Of course, they were probably not so happy to see me, since I'm the flake that never gets my head out of my own ass to seem them in my off-hours, but, well... if they'll spend the odd lunch with me, their duty to this talentless hanger-onner shall be fulfilled.
Oh... hey. We went and saw a movie today. If any of you have the burr up your ass to see "Aliens in the Attic", uhm, RIP THAT FUCKER OUT BEFORE IT CAN DO ANY MORE HARM. Nuff said. And btw? Damn that writer's strike two years ago anyway. Not only did it deprive me of six episodes of Supernatural (Season 3, people... Dean was gonna die and I could have ridden that angst wave for frikkin' EVER), but it's making me desperate enough to squander my hard earned green on something that looks, walks, talks and shits like a dog, because sisterhood, did I step in it with this one!
And for those of you who checked out the website--THANK YOU! Lovely Sexy Green really does need more exposure because Archer did a FANTABULOUS job on him. (In fact, she suggested more than exposed, bless her, because I can look at that picture and follow that suggestion for hours of entertainment.) And for those of you who read Jack & Teague's new story, thank you too! Don't forget to e-mail me and tell me if you thought it was worthy--I've been telling people that it was hard to write, because I REALLY put Teague through the wringer with this one.
And Roxie and Needletart? I'm working on that second edit now... as soon as it's done, RAMPANT will be printed and wringing it's way to you!
So I'll let you know about that first day of school... but for now, I'm gonna make the family watch some more Buffy episodes and pretend it's not happening!
Brief moment of insanity...
I've noticed that I don't have any real blogposts for this last week--I guess my head really HAS been up my writing ass, hasn't it?
Anyway, I promise something more substantial by tomorrow... I'm getting ready for school, and it's sort of exciting and depressing, all in one. But in the meantime, I just made the following observation--this is one of those weird statistical improbability bullshit things that can only happen with a scheduling program in a really big school:
I had ONE Sophomore class last year. ONE. What are the odds that, in THREE (out of a school-wide total of ELEVEN) Junior classes, I'd get TWELVE kids that I had as Sophomores. TWELVE. And only two of them weren't total shitheads. And EIGHT of them are in 2nd perod--the same class I had them in last year. SOMEBODY do that math...
See? See? Weirdness. I swear... karma... she is a big, hairy, rabid fucking dog, and she smells my blood...
Anyway, I promise something more substantial by tomorrow... I'm getting ready for school, and it's sort of exciting and depressing, all in one. But in the meantime, I just made the following observation--this is one of those weird statistical improbability bullshit things that can only happen with a scheduling program in a really big school:
I had ONE Sophomore class last year. ONE. What are the odds that, in THREE (out of a school-wide total of ELEVEN) Junior classes, I'd get TWELVE kids that I had as Sophomores. TWELVE. And only two of them weren't total shitheads. And EIGHT of them are in 2nd perod--the same class I had them in last year. SOMEBODY do that math...
See? See? Weirdness. I swear... karma... she is a big, hairy, rabid fucking dog, and she smells my blood...
Friday, August 7, 2009
*Big Shit-Eating Grin*
Changing is up;-) (And so is something else you may all enjoy looking at... as usual, click to enbiggen;-)
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Just a snippet from the household...
Chicken had a toy that Ladybug wanted.
"I want it I want it! Give it to me! I'm a girl!"
Chicken and I exchanged glances--oh really?
"Knock it off, Ladybug--you don't have any feminine wiles!" Chicken retorted, rolling her eyes. She pronounced it 'willies'--you know, to be cute?
Neither of us were prepared for the Cave Troll to hear her and to pipe up, "I've got a feminine willy! I do I do I do!"
mbptamht....BUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
And yet another one, added just now:
We're watching the Incredible Hulk, and the bad Hulk, the one without pants is about to kill our favorite green freaky-muscle-creature, and Chicken speaks up. "Mom--that bad one--he doesn't have any gomads."
Blink. "Any what?"
"Gomads... you know...'Gomads'... guy things?"
Blink. "I think they're pronounced 'gonads'--but, you know, go-mad is kind of appropriate."
"Whatever. He doesn't have any."
Me, looking intently at a cgi monster for marriage tackle: "You know... I think you're right... well, I guess steroids will do that to you."
Mmmmm...
"I want it I want it! Give it to me! I'm a girl!"
Chicken and I exchanged glances--oh really?
"Knock it off, Ladybug--you don't have any feminine wiles!" Chicken retorted, rolling her eyes. She pronounced it 'willies'--you know, to be cute?
Neither of us were prepared for the Cave Troll to hear her and to pipe up, "I've got a feminine willy! I do I do I do!"
mbptamht....BUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
And yet another one, added just now:
We're watching the Incredible Hulk, and the bad Hulk, the one without pants is about to kill our favorite green freaky-muscle-creature, and Chicken speaks up. "Mom--that bad one--he doesn't have any gomads."
Blink. "Any what?"
"Gomads... you know...'Gomads'... guy things?"
Blink. "I think they're pronounced 'gonads'--but, you know, go-mad is kind of appropriate."
"Whatever. He doesn't have any."
Me, looking intently at a cgi monster for marriage tackle: "You know... I think you're right... well, I guess steroids will do that to you."
Mmmmm...
Monday, August 3, 2009
This Summer's It LIst
1. The people who published my dirty quickie in their newsletter.
2. The dirtiest song I've ever heard.
3. Likin' Park & Supernatural
4. This thing that's kept my children quietly occupied for hours.
5. Galad who helped me edit Changing and assures me that with a little tweaking, it will NOT suck. (And who also finished her office-huzzah!
6. Rob Thurman. The MINUTE I find Deathwish, I'm SO finishing this series!
7. Jordan Castillo Price. Don't be spooked by the m/m title-- the pacing is good, the relationship is believable, and the mysteries are very cool. I also like the supporting cast. Good stuff.
8. Night Owl Romance-- they will soon have a review of both Vulnerable and Wounded in their reviews. Wendy, much loves to ya, baby, for asking to do that! (Not Crazy Friend Wendy... another one!)
9. Nom nom nom... Every now and then I pull out my alpaca and just pet it and purr.
10. My health club, which has provided many happy hours for me and the short people this summer.
11. All of you, for supporting me as I (according to Samurai Knitter go quietly insane by writing way too much.
I'm almost done with Changing... and I'm starting on a very quick story for money, if they accept it. Then I'm buckling down and editing Rampant. I may not be able to get it published until February, but it's going to sparkling and pristine by the time that check rolls around.
2. The dirtiest song I've ever heard.
3. Likin' Park & Supernatural
4. This thing that's kept my children quietly occupied for hours.
5. Galad who helped me edit Changing and assures me that with a little tweaking, it will NOT suck. (And who also finished her office-huzzah!
6. Rob Thurman. The MINUTE I find Deathwish, I'm SO finishing this series!
7. Jordan Castillo Price. Don't be spooked by the m/m title-- the pacing is good, the relationship is believable, and the mysteries are very cool. I also like the supporting cast. Good stuff.
8. Night Owl Romance-- they will soon have a review of both Vulnerable and Wounded in their reviews. Wendy, much loves to ya, baby, for asking to do that! (Not Crazy Friend Wendy... another one!)
9. Nom nom nom... Every now and then I pull out my alpaca and just pet it and purr.
10. My health club, which has provided many happy hours for me and the short people this summer.
11. All of you, for supporting me as I (according to Samurai Knitter go quietly insane by writing way too much.
I'm almost done with Changing... and I'm starting on a very quick story for money, if they accept it. Then I'm buckling down and editing Rampant. I may not be able to get it published until February, but it's going to sparkling and pristine by the time that check rolls around.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
I left my hat...
In San Francisco...
Okay, seriously, NONE of us left our hats there--are you kidding? I just finished the Cave Troll's in the car on the way to the city! (Sadly, Mate's was only partly done by the end of the day, but since I started it after Cave Troll's was done, I figure I'm still damned good!)
We are broke-ish at the moment, and although we all WANTED family vacation, well, we're broke-ish, and I actually go back to the blight of the universe on Friday (Thursday) and, well... all we really had $$$ for was a day in San Francisco.
Of course, San Francisco is pretty damned special. The whole family loves the City by the Bay and now the little kids are in on the love. We went to on the tour boat (Mate had never been before), and shopped the Pier where the older kids each had a little bit of bling to buy their own treasures. The little kids got M&M toys, because a tchotchke is a tchotchke when you're under ten, and the little kids also got a ride on the top floor of the double decker carousel, which is all they really wanted anyway.
After that, we went to a public beach and let the short people run around like wooly-hatted-hottentots. And yes, yes they were. (Why is there no close-up of the Cave Troll and his new hat? The Cave Troll didn't stand still for no stinking picture, that's why! The beach is his FRIEND!)
And as for the hats? I made Big-T's out of some Big Sock Mexico (worsted) before his trip to Lassen--his other hat had developed a hole from being lurved to death. The pink ones on us girls all came from one skein of Socks-That-Rock heavyweight, color scheme Rockstar. Chicken got it on a trip to Stitches, and asked me to make her half-pipe hat for her. I did, and used the rest of the skein to make another adult sized hat and a Ladybug sized one--complete with crocheted-on flower. I enjoyed that so much as a travelling project that I thought I'd see if I wouldn't have just as much fun just getting a big skein of something with wool and churning out hats--they make good movie projects. The Cave Troll wanted a hat, so the next one on the needles went to him. I made everybody wear their hats today because, hello, it made us INCREDIBLY easy to spot--and, yes, we did get a nice compliment on our matching 'bonnets' as we came up the beach.
The best moment of the day? I think it was form the Cave Troll (but there were a lot of fine ones to choose from.) We found a public beach, and Cave Troll looked out of the car and said, "Hey, Mom, that's the OCEAN!"
"Yeah, sweetie, that IS the ocean!"
"Oh boy oh boy oh boy! That means we can PLAY!"
And so he did-- for nearly two hours before we retired to the car for some sandwiches and to regain feeling in our toes. (It was 58 degrees at the beach today-- I LURVE San Francisco in the summer!)
*whew* I'm cooked and done--and SO behind on everybody else's blogs! I've been SWEATING to finish Changing--I think those of you on the beta reader list for that puppy will find a big, fat manuscript in your in-boxes tomorrow evening. (Seriously--it's the longest story of the four, and it's some of the sparest prose I've indulged in for a long time! And it still managed to rip my heart out. Damn!)
And then I can start the second edit of Rampant.
Did I say *whew*? Maybe that was a bit too soon. (But I"m DEFINITELY reading your blogs tomorrow... today, I'm just a wee bit wiped:-)
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