Well. Possibly interesting. Possibly you'll think, "she's insane." But you usually think that anyway.
I just changed mobile phone services. I used to have Cingular, which got bought by AT&T, and for various and sundry UNinteresting reasons, I held on to them until this spring. Then I knew Number One was going to Holland and would need an easy way to call home and AT&T has the easy way, plus the most ranging service. But she's back, and so am I, so I changed. And I learned a few things.
1. I have had the same long distance service for 15 years and 10 months.
Pretty impressive, no? Back in 1992 I worked for a company that did customer service and billing for a small reseller, Working Assets Long Distance. They are a socially responsible company who donates millions every year to charities, as well as enabling their customers to send letters to politicians and other people about important environmental, social, political, and economic causes. (No, I didn't really do sales, though there was an element of that to my job.) I switched my service to them when I started working there and never switched away. There's never been any reason to. My long distance use is so low I only get billed quarterly, and that's usually less than $20.
2. Sprint's network sucks eggs.
It's not like I didn't already know that AT&T wasn't lying when they say "more bars in more places." I had a full signal in the sub-basement of the hotel in SF, while friends with other services (*cough*T-Mobile*cough*) didn't have service in 90% of the building. (Or, you know, whatever.) But I get two bars in my house and the conversation cuts out every two seconds. Really annoying. I have a 30-day window to decide if I want to stay without penalty. We'll see how it goes.
3. If you tell the nice CSRs that you used to do their job, they will be tickled enough to send you coupons for free Ben & Jerry's.
Those coupons have been the gimmick for Working Assets (now Credo) for decades. Refer a friend--get a coupon. Get a credit card--get a coupon. Yummy reward.
*thinks* I thought I had more non-phone random bits, but I can't think of them now. Number Two wants to go school shopping, so I'm off.
Well, I'm always a LITTLE off.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Back on Track
Hee. Complain about derailment and then get it all done anyway.
I finished revising my book Hummingbird and sent it off for critique. That was 72 pages.
Then I revised the 41 pages I had written on my untitled WIP, adding 4 new pages in the process, and then wrote 20 more after that. Which put me, at least temporarily, in the lead in our challenge. My competitiveness is appeased, though there are a lot of days left, and I'm up against some pretty prolific people.
Tracy Madison sent me a link to this great post at Libba Bray's blog. I'm ashamed to say I never heard of her, despite her being a New York Times bestseller and all, but I looked her up because she's so funny and found that she does historical paranormal YA. Not exactly on my radar, but I'll get her books for Number One.
Today is not a derailment day, it's a never-expected-to-get-anything-done-anyway day. Bill paying, soccer shopping, running around to schools and getting treats for wonderful husbands who indulge their wives obsessions. Hopefully a good bit of writing in between. I already have one page!
I finished revising my book Hummingbird and sent it off for critique. That was 72 pages.
Then I revised the 41 pages I had written on my untitled WIP, adding 4 new pages in the process, and then wrote 20 more after that. Which put me, at least temporarily, in the lead in our challenge. My competitiveness is appeased, though there are a lot of days left, and I'm up against some pretty prolific people.
Tracy Madison sent me a link to this great post at Libba Bray's blog. I'm ashamed to say I never heard of her, despite her being a New York Times bestseller and all, but I looked her up because she's so funny and found that she does historical paranormal YA. Not exactly on my radar, but I'll get her books for Number One.
Today is not a derailment day, it's a never-expected-to-get-anything-done-anyway day. Bill paying, soccer shopping, running around to schools and getting treats for wonderful husbands who indulge their wives obsessions. Hopefully a good bit of writing in between. I already have one page!
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Things That Derail Me
My kids are gone today. I had huge intentions. Get up early, do the one proofing job I have waiting, and get right into my manuscript, spending all day working on it. I would have from, say, 8:00 a.m. to 5:45 p.m., when J gets home with the kids.
Then I find out that he's got a training session locally and can't get the kids, which means I'll have to, which means stopping work early and braving rush-hour traffic. (I'm not whining, honest. That would be shrewish.)
Then I learn that his training session is not only local, but at 9:00 a.m., which means he'll get up later, which means I'll get up later. What? I should set the alarm even though I only have 11 alarm-free days left before school starts and I'll have to get up at 6:15 every day? Yeah, I thought you were just joking.
So okay, getting up at 8, quick shower, downstairs by 8:30, right?
Why am I so stupid?
The animals need to be fed before the little one gets stuck in squeaky cry mode. The dog doesn't want to eat. While trying to feed her, I dump icky dog food all over my bathrobe (and yes, then stand stark naked in the middle of the kitchen while I finish what I'm doing--no, don't picture it).
I forgot to scoop the litter box last night, so of course I have to do that, which also means sweeping up the scattered litter. I multi-task, doing that while my tea water heats and the dog is supposed to be eating, but she's too scared I'll go away without her and follows me all over the house.
I figure I might as well eat breakfast because I'll probably skip lunch, so I make waffles while the dog finally settles down to her dish. We get downstairs, I turn on the computer...
And Windows wants to update. Fourteen updates to install, and I might as well not bother starting to work while it does, because the bogged-down computer will only annoy me, and I'll have to restart it, anyway.
So here we are, 9:15, and I haven't even started yet.
Well, except typing this blog post on my Neo. Doesn't really count.
Added post update:
It's now 10:15. The proofing is done, but the laundry I threw in while the computer rebooted is also done, so now I have to go switch that to the dryer and start another load...and my manuscript isn't even open.
Things aren't looking good for a high page count today. :(
Then I find out that he's got a training session locally and can't get the kids, which means I'll have to, which means stopping work early and braving rush-hour traffic. (I'm not whining, honest. That would be shrewish.)
Then I learn that his training session is not only local, but at 9:00 a.m., which means he'll get up later, which means I'll get up later. What? I should set the alarm even though I only have 11 alarm-free days left before school starts and I'll have to get up at 6:15 every day? Yeah, I thought you were just joking.
So okay, getting up at 8, quick shower, downstairs by 8:30, right?
Why am I so stupid?
The animals need to be fed before the little one gets stuck in squeaky cry mode. The dog doesn't want to eat. While trying to feed her, I dump icky dog food all over my bathrobe (and yes, then stand stark naked in the middle of the kitchen while I finish what I'm doing--no, don't picture it).
I forgot to scoop the litter box last night, so of course I have to do that, which also means sweeping up the scattered litter. I multi-task, doing that while my tea water heats and the dog is supposed to be eating, but she's too scared I'll go away without her and follows me all over the house.
I figure I might as well eat breakfast because I'll probably skip lunch, so I make waffles while the dog finally settles down to her dish. We get downstairs, I turn on the computer...
And Windows wants to update. Fourteen updates to install, and I might as well not bother starting to work while it does, because the bogged-down computer will only annoy me, and I'll have to restart it, anyway.
So here we are, 9:15, and I haven't even started yet.
Well, except typing this blog post on my Neo. Doesn't really count.
Added post update:
It's now 10:15. The proofing is done, but the laundry I threw in while the computer rebooted is also done, so now I have to go switch that to the dryer and start another load...and my manuscript isn't even open.
Things aren't looking good for a high page count today. :(
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Disappointments of the Silly Sort
1. Joe Bob Disappeared
Back in June, the last few days of school, Number Two brought home a crayfish from her science unit. As pets go, Joe Bob was a pretty easy one. Just had to keep his container full of plants for him to eat, give him something to hide under, and check every so often to be sure he's okay. He hung out with no problem until last week.
When he disappeared.
Completely.
I cleaned his container last Tuesday. J asked if I'd remembered to put him back in, and I blanked on that. But I knew Number Two had checked on him when she came home Wednesday, so I had to have. But there was an empty container, and no sign of good ol' Joe Bob anywhere.
Best guess is that one of the cats got him, since that happened to one of Number Two's friend's crayfish, but she found pieces on the floor. We didn't find anything anywhere, and the cats are not normally on the counter, and have never shown any awareness of his existence. If he'd flipped out of the container, he'd have expired somewhere we could find him. He's just gone. Not even any funky smell we can't pinpoint.
Number Two is fine, by the way. They weren't that close.
2. Perseid Shower
I've long felt guilty that I haven't made stronger efforts to get my kids outside for a meteor shower. A couple of years ago I got a great view of the Leonids, lying on my car hood in 20-degree weather. I think I saw about 21 in half an hour, something like that.
Last night the Perseids were supposed to peak. It's summer, not an early-morning night, so let them stay up to midnight to watch. I knew they would be more visible after moonset at 1:47, but that wasn't practical.
So we all went out and laid on blankets in the front yard. In an hour we saw four. That was disappointing. I mean, at least we all saw at least one, and my kids know what shooting stars are now, and we talked about constellations and saw a couple dozen airplanes and even a couple of potential satellites. But it wasn't really worth staying up that late for.
3. Joss Whedon is No Longer My Master
Okay, I admit, I don't know how I went four years without knowing how Buffy ended. Kudos to my Buffy-fan friends for not letting that out of the bag. Except...kudos is not really what I was feeling when I stayed up to 2:00 a.m. Monday morning to watch the last few episodes.
How did I feel?
Kinda like I did when I knew my mother had bought me some albums for Christmas, and instead of REO Speedwagon and Journey I got Barbara Mandrell and Kenny Rogers.
Very much like I did when I read The Horse Whisperer, loving the whole book, and then having the main character act completely out of character in a major plot-solution cop-out.
Betrayed.
First, let's address the whole save-the-world issue. Maybe if I'd watched Angel at the proper times it would feel less like convenient writing, but I have a feeling it wouldn't. They go along for 20 episodes convinced they can't beat the Big Bad, then Angel shows up and casually gives Buffy this amulet thing that just when things are looking dire in the Hellmouth just happens to channel sunlight and kill all the ubervamps. That was very much a "hey, we have no idea how to get ourselves out of this dire hole we've written ourselves into, so let's introduce something new that will pull us out of it" kind of thing.
Next, let me take some responsibility for my disappointment. I mean, they showed signs all along that Buffy and Spike wouldn't get together. The attempted rape, the fact that Buffy kept saying she didn't love him, and then the things she told Angel in the penultimate episode, about maybe someday, but not now. But I'm a romance writer, so of course I saw all that as resolvable conflict. My perspective is not something the writers can control.
But as many hints as there were that it wouldn't work out, there were signs that it would. For cripe's sake, Spike got his soul back for her! He stopped pushing so hard to get her. She wouldn't let anyone kill him, or let him leave. She asked him to hold her when everyone else had pushed her away (and vice versa). Oh, and then there was the clairvoyant who said she'd tell him, someday.
Those last few moments were such a guy thing. And yes, Joss Whedon is a guy. But his later stuff ruined me for Buffy. Sure, the world didn't end, and maybe Faith found someone to be with, but the rest of them? Not a single happy ending for anyone. (No, I don't buy Kennedy and Willow as anything more than crisis comfort.)
So I feel betrayed. I didn't get a lousy kiss in all of season 7, never mind redemption for Spike and resolution for Buffy. For me, the show was never about her. It was about those loyal, strong, dedicated, loving people around her. I don't care that Buffy didn't wind up with Spike, but I care very much that Spike worked so hard to be a worthy man and got absolutely nothing for it. And while I enjoyed the entire series as I watched it, that finale ruined it for me. Completely.
Here's the thing. Shows like Supernatural and Lost and Buffy the Vampire Slayer and even Terminator (okay, maybe not Terminator) can deal all they want in the human condition, using their fantastical elements to highlight our strengths and flaws and relationships and blahdy blah blah. But they are entertainment, and as such they cannot give us only the "realistic" endings.
I have enough reality. Like most people, I have painful loss, fear of painful loss, stressful struggles, and fear of stressful struggles. There is no guarantee of ever coming out of any given situation without damage and with something happy at the end. So I get that from TV. I get that from Dean and Sam riding off in the Impala to their next hunt. (Hear that, Kripke?! None of this blaze-of-glory crap at the end of next season!!) I want to believe that hope and joy are as possible as death and destruction, and Spike dying, alone and lonely, doesn't exactly do that.
Okay. That's enough giving too much weight to a silly TV show. I must get back to work, to my own less-than-perfect writing that nonetheless always delivers the happy ending.
Back in June, the last few days of school, Number Two brought home a crayfish from her science unit. As pets go, Joe Bob was a pretty easy one. Just had to keep his container full of plants for him to eat, give him something to hide under, and check every so often to be sure he's okay. He hung out with no problem until last week.
When he disappeared.
Completely.
I cleaned his container last Tuesday. J asked if I'd remembered to put him back in, and I blanked on that. But I knew Number Two had checked on him when she came home Wednesday, so I had to have. But there was an empty container, and no sign of good ol' Joe Bob anywhere.
Best guess is that one of the cats got him, since that happened to one of Number Two's friend's crayfish, but she found pieces on the floor. We didn't find anything anywhere, and the cats are not normally on the counter, and have never shown any awareness of his existence. If he'd flipped out of the container, he'd have expired somewhere we could find him. He's just gone. Not even any funky smell we can't pinpoint.
Number Two is fine, by the way. They weren't that close.
2. Perseid Shower
I've long felt guilty that I haven't made stronger efforts to get my kids outside for a meteor shower. A couple of years ago I got a great view of the Leonids, lying on my car hood in 20-degree weather. I think I saw about 21 in half an hour, something like that.
Last night the Perseids were supposed to peak. It's summer, not an early-morning night, so let them stay up to midnight to watch. I knew they would be more visible after moonset at 1:47, but that wasn't practical.
So we all went out and laid on blankets in the front yard. In an hour we saw four. That was disappointing. I mean, at least we all saw at least one, and my kids know what shooting stars are now, and we talked about constellations and saw a couple dozen airplanes and even a couple of potential satellites. But it wasn't really worth staying up that late for.
3. Joss Whedon is No Longer My Master
Okay, I admit, I don't know how I went four years without knowing how Buffy ended. Kudos to my Buffy-fan friends for not letting that out of the bag. Except...kudos is not really what I was feeling when I stayed up to 2:00 a.m. Monday morning to watch the last few episodes.
How did I feel?
Kinda like I did when I knew my mother had bought me some albums for Christmas, and instead of REO Speedwagon and Journey I got Barbara Mandrell and Kenny Rogers.
Very much like I did when I read The Horse Whisperer, loving the whole book, and then having the main character act completely out of character in a major plot-solution cop-out.
Betrayed.
First, let's address the whole save-the-world issue. Maybe if I'd watched Angel at the proper times it would feel less like convenient writing, but I have a feeling it wouldn't. They go along for 20 episodes convinced they can't beat the Big Bad, then Angel shows up and casually gives Buffy this amulet thing that just when things are looking dire in the Hellmouth just happens to channel sunlight and kill all the ubervamps. That was very much a "hey, we have no idea how to get ourselves out of this dire hole we've written ourselves into, so let's introduce something new that will pull us out of it" kind of thing.
Next, let me take some responsibility for my disappointment. I mean, they showed signs all along that Buffy and Spike wouldn't get together. The attempted rape, the fact that Buffy kept saying she didn't love him, and then the things she told Angel in the penultimate episode, about maybe someday, but not now. But I'm a romance writer, so of course I saw all that as resolvable conflict. My perspective is not something the writers can control.
But as many hints as there were that it wouldn't work out, there were signs that it would. For cripe's sake, Spike got his soul back for her! He stopped pushing so hard to get her. She wouldn't let anyone kill him, or let him leave. She asked him to hold her when everyone else had pushed her away (and vice versa). Oh, and then there was the clairvoyant who said she'd tell him, someday.
Those last few moments were such a guy thing. And yes, Joss Whedon is a guy. But his later stuff ruined me for Buffy. Sure, the world didn't end, and maybe Faith found someone to be with, but the rest of them? Not a single happy ending for anyone. (No, I don't buy Kennedy and Willow as anything more than crisis comfort.)
So I feel betrayed. I didn't get a lousy kiss in all of season 7, never mind redemption for Spike and resolution for Buffy. For me, the show was never about her. It was about those loyal, strong, dedicated, loving people around her. I don't care that Buffy didn't wind up with Spike, but I care very much that Spike worked so hard to be a worthy man and got absolutely nothing for it. And while I enjoyed the entire series as I watched it, that finale ruined it for me. Completely.
Here's the thing. Shows like Supernatural and Lost and Buffy the Vampire Slayer and even Terminator (okay, maybe not Terminator) can deal all they want in the human condition, using their fantastical elements to highlight our strengths and flaws and relationships and blahdy blah blah. But they are entertainment, and as such they cannot give us only the "realistic" endings.
I have enough reality. Like most people, I have painful loss, fear of painful loss, stressful struggles, and fear of stressful struggles. There is no guarantee of ever coming out of any given situation without damage and with something happy at the end. So I get that from TV. I get that from Dean and Sam riding off in the Impala to their next hunt. (Hear that, Kripke?! None of this blaze-of-glory crap at the end of next season!!) I want to believe that hope and joy are as possible as death and destruction, and Spike dying, alone and lonely, doesn't exactly do that.
Okay. That's enough giving too much weight to a silly TV show. I must get back to work, to my own less-than-perfect writing that nonetheless always delivers the happy ending.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Bits
I have entered Stella Cameron's Scarlet Boa contest again. I'm not gonna tell you which entry is mine, 'cause that would be cheating. But I will say I'm very pleased with my positioning. :)
She has a new book out, so check that out while you're there, too. Voting is here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fandom Rocks, a group of Supernatural fans who have done some really cool things to raise money for worthy causes, are holding an auction for just that purpose. They've got some fabulous items, like a PILOT script signed by awesome people including Eric Kripke, Kim Manners, Ben Edlund, Sera Gamble, Phil Sgriccia, Jensen Ackles, and Jared Padalecki! I mean, that's all the big wigs! Hard to resist that one. The eBay page has more info on the auction that went live August 1. Good luck!
She has a new book out, so check that out while you're there, too. Voting is here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fandom Rocks, a group of Supernatural fans who have done some really cool things to raise money for worthy causes, are holding an auction for just that purpose. They've got some fabulous items, like a PILOT script signed by awesome people including Eric Kripke, Kim Manners, Ben Edlund, Sera Gamble, Phil Sgriccia, Jensen Ackles, and Jared Padalecki! I mean, that's all the big wigs! Hard to resist that one. The eBay page has more info on the auction that went live August 1. Good luck!
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
RWA Day WhateverTheHeckItWas Plus Every Day Since
My five-and-a-half-year-old laptop was very uncooperative with e-mail the last time I used it, so I stopped trying. Plus, I got busier. And more tired. So that explains the gap in posts.
I'm home now, but way behind, of course, and suddenly SF seems long ago and far away.
Saturday...hmmm...Saturday. I think I got more books at signings. Thought about attending workshops, but didn't. Had lunch with Cathy McDavid, which was great because we caught up on all the stuff that we didn't talk about when others were around because they already knew it. Shipped my two boxes of books and goodies. Spent some time editing in the afternoon. Went out to dinner with friends again before the award ceremony, which was as awesome as always.
Oh, I keep forgetting to mention...I have got to stop listening to people. It's not that they were wrong, just that I know myself and I'm different than the norm. I know, big surprise. Anyway, all the talk was about how cold SF is, and how I would need long sleeves for the duration, and the hotels are always cold, etc. So I listened, though I knew I'm almost never cold in the hotels so I mostly refrained from bringing really thick shirts and sweaters. But I did have a long-sleeved shirt for sightseeing Wednesday, and the only time I wasn't FREAKING HOT (and therefore obnoxiously complaining) was when we were actually on the wharf with the wind in our faces. The hotel was so hot, we had our room AC set at 66, and even 64 the last 24 hours. I couldn't stop sweating and was really unhappy about that.
But did I mention the elevators? They were awesome. Amazingly fast the entire time. I also found the room to be wonderful (really comfy beds) and the service to be efficient and very personable.
Okay, Sunday. Sunday Tracy Madison (who was not responsible for keeping us up late on Tuesday, only an innocent bystander, I swear) let us leave our stuff in her room as we had to check out but not leave until 4, and she stayed until Monday. That gave us a little more time to visit with her and her lovely daughter.
Sunday I spent mostly by myself. Lisa Mondello, my roommate, was meeting cousins she hadn't seen in years. Libby and Cathy invited me to lunch, but they had earlier flights and I really wanted to see the Golden Gate Bridge, especially since I missed Alcatraz. So I went off on my own for five hours. In the interest of keeping this blog post shorter than Breaking Dawn (which is apparently only 7 pages shorter than Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, according to Number One), let me sum up:
*Took the 30 bus to the 28 bus
*30 bus didn't go to end of line, so got off early
*Hey, I'm really near the crookedest street! I wanna see it up close.
*Hike up Lombard 4 blocks. And by "up" I mean "80 degrees up." Stop every half block to take pictures to disguise windedness.
*See crookedest street up close. Very pretty and kind of cool, but wouldn't want to sit in traffic waiting to go down it.
*Hike back down to 28 bus.
*Take 28 bus to GGB.
I loved the GGB area. It's so different from the rest of the city, with the cliffs and the look of the bay and the vegetation. It was foggy, so the tops of the towers were in the clouds, but the view was still spectacular.
*Walk partway across bridge. Take lots of pictures of self on bridge that all suck and shall not be shared on this blog. Buy souvenirs.
*Take bus back to Ghirardhelli Square.
*Walk around Hyde Pier and The Cannery, eat ice cream, listen to guitarist apparently inspired by August Rush music. He was good. Az Samad. His album Acoustic Gestures is available on iTunes.
*Stand in line for cable car for an hour.
I was absolutely determined to ride a real cable car. I rode the street car on Wednesday, as well as a wheeled cable car-like trolley for the tour, and the bus (the 30 went through Chinatown). But I had to ride a real cable car. It was cool. 120 years old and well cared for. Gleaming wood, signature bell, and unique operation. No cables, though. Kind of weird, unless the rails have cables inside them. I'm too tired to go look that up, and I didn't have time to get off and see the Cable Car Museum, which would have been interesting.
17 hours of travel, no sleep on plane, a little Buffy on the layovers, home with the kids Monday afternoon, shared photos of Holland and SF, got up to date on their activities. Napped, but only for an hour, not nearly helpful.
Number One and I went to see the Mummy movie last night. It wasn't disappointing only because my expectations were low. To wit:
*I've seen what kind of writing the writers had come up with for Smallville two seasons ago. They lived up to that. Plot was fine, but the dialogue didn't match the previous two movies, and either the story itself or the editing was erratic.
*Maria Bello is a wonderful actress, but she is not Rachel Weisz. I'm not saying she's worse than RW, she's just not her. There was no chemistry with Brendan Fraser, she was very stiff and missing the spark and joy of life that Evie is supposed to have.
*The guy playing the son wasn't as geeky and idiotic as I expected, but he wasn't written very sympathetically and I'm sorry, while an American accent isn't out of the question (he has an American father, even if he's been raised in England), he sounded like he came from Brooklyn by way of New Jersey. Or something like that.
*Rick O'Connell was gorgeous and well-acted, but again, poorly written. His exuberance was gone, too. And I sorely missed Oded Fehr.
I wouldn't say my money was wasted. The effects were cool, the acting fine even if not what I was looking for, and I had a good time watching it with my daughter. But it was very definitely a second sequel in the old tradition.
Okay, almost done.
Besides wanting to spend the day with my family, I couldn't face the pile, both literal and digital, that waited for me in my office. Today I spent the morning sleeping (ref. 3 hours sleep over 36 hours, + 17 hours of traveling) and then getting my kids to Camp Nana and running errands. After that, I think it took me 3 hours to get the paper stuff organized, the balky computer working adequately, and my e-mail read. I got some business out of the way, but still have 43 out of the original 198 e-mails to address. (That tally doesn't include the 151 spam messages, and that's all just from four days. Imagine if I hadn't checked the three days before that!)
Some cool things today...
I got my cover for my September release:
I also found out that Renegade was #9 on the Amber Heat Bestseller list for July!
And I got a nice review for Renegade from Book Utopia.
So now we're on the downside of the summer. Even though we passed the halfway mark some time ago, getting ready for Holland and San Francisco was still climbing up to the high points of the season. Now we have doctor and car appointments, soccer practices, school open houses, and tournaments before the start of school on August 25.
And you know what? I'm sad about that.
I'm home now, but way behind, of course, and suddenly SF seems long ago and far away.
Saturday...hmmm...Saturday. I think I got more books at signings. Thought about attending workshops, but didn't. Had lunch with Cathy McDavid, which was great because we caught up on all the stuff that we didn't talk about when others were around because they already knew it. Shipped my two boxes of books and goodies. Spent some time editing in the afternoon. Went out to dinner with friends again before the award ceremony, which was as awesome as always.
Oh, I keep forgetting to mention...I have got to stop listening to people. It's not that they were wrong, just that I know myself and I'm different than the norm. I know, big surprise. Anyway, all the talk was about how cold SF is, and how I would need long sleeves for the duration, and the hotels are always cold, etc. So I listened, though I knew I'm almost never cold in the hotels so I mostly refrained from bringing really thick shirts and sweaters. But I did have a long-sleeved shirt for sightseeing Wednesday, and the only time I wasn't FREAKING HOT (and therefore obnoxiously complaining) was when we were actually on the wharf with the wind in our faces. The hotel was so hot, we had our room AC set at 66, and even 64 the last 24 hours. I couldn't stop sweating and was really unhappy about that.
But did I mention the elevators? They were awesome. Amazingly fast the entire time. I also found the room to be wonderful (really comfy beds) and the service to be efficient and very personable.
Okay, Sunday. Sunday Tracy Madison (who was not responsible for keeping us up late on Tuesday, only an innocent bystander, I swear) let us leave our stuff in her room as we had to check out but not leave until 4, and she stayed until Monday. That gave us a little more time to visit with her and her lovely daughter.
Sunday I spent mostly by myself. Lisa Mondello, my roommate, was meeting cousins she hadn't seen in years. Libby and Cathy invited me to lunch, but they had earlier flights and I really wanted to see the Golden Gate Bridge, especially since I missed Alcatraz. So I went off on my own for five hours. In the interest of keeping this blog post shorter than Breaking Dawn (which is apparently only 7 pages shorter than Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, according to Number One), let me sum up:
*Took the 30 bus to the 28 bus
*30 bus didn't go to end of line, so got off early
*Hey, I'm really near the crookedest street! I wanna see it up close.
*Hike up Lombard 4 blocks. And by "up" I mean "80 degrees up." Stop every half block to take pictures to disguise windedness.
*See crookedest street up close. Very pretty and kind of cool, but wouldn't want to sit in traffic waiting to go down it.
*Hike back down to 28 bus.
*Take 28 bus to GGB.
I loved the GGB area. It's so different from the rest of the city, with the cliffs and the look of the bay and the vegetation. It was foggy, so the tops of the towers were in the clouds, but the view was still spectacular.
*Walk partway across bridge. Take lots of pictures of self on bridge that all suck and shall not be shared on this blog. Buy souvenirs.
*Take bus back to Ghirardhelli Square.
*Walk around Hyde Pier and The Cannery, eat ice cream, listen to guitarist apparently inspired by August Rush music. He was good. Az Samad. His album Acoustic Gestures is available on iTunes.
*Stand in line for cable car for an hour.
I was absolutely determined to ride a real cable car. I rode the street car on Wednesday, as well as a wheeled cable car-like trolley for the tour, and the bus (the 30 went through Chinatown). But I had to ride a real cable car. It was cool. 120 years old and well cared for. Gleaming wood, signature bell, and unique operation. No cables, though. Kind of weird, unless the rails have cables inside them. I'm too tired to go look that up, and I didn't have time to get off and see the Cable Car Museum, which would have been interesting.
17 hours of travel, no sleep on plane, a little Buffy on the layovers, home with the kids Monday afternoon, shared photos of Holland and SF, got up to date on their activities. Napped, but only for an hour, not nearly helpful.
Number One and I went to see the Mummy movie last night. It wasn't disappointing only because my expectations were low. To wit:
*I've seen what kind of writing the writers had come up with for Smallville two seasons ago. They lived up to that. Plot was fine, but the dialogue didn't match the previous two movies, and either the story itself or the editing was erratic.
*Maria Bello is a wonderful actress, but she is not Rachel Weisz. I'm not saying she's worse than RW, she's just not her. There was no chemistry with Brendan Fraser, she was very stiff and missing the spark and joy of life that Evie is supposed to have.
*The guy playing the son wasn't as geeky and idiotic as I expected, but he wasn't written very sympathetically and I'm sorry, while an American accent isn't out of the question (he has an American father, even if he's been raised in England), he sounded like he came from Brooklyn by way of New Jersey. Or something like that.
*Rick O'Connell was gorgeous and well-acted, but again, poorly written. His exuberance was gone, too. And I sorely missed Oded Fehr.
I wouldn't say my money was wasted. The effects were cool, the acting fine even if not what I was looking for, and I had a good time watching it with my daughter. But it was very definitely a second sequel in the old tradition.
Okay, almost done.
Besides wanting to spend the day with my family, I couldn't face the pile, both literal and digital, that waited for me in my office. Today I spent the morning sleeping (ref. 3 hours sleep over 36 hours, + 17 hours of traveling) and then getting my kids to Camp Nana and running errands. After that, I think it took me 3 hours to get the paper stuff organized, the balky computer working adequately, and my e-mail read. I got some business out of the way, but still have 43 out of the original 198 e-mails to address. (That tally doesn't include the 151 spam messages, and that's all just from four days. Imagine if I hadn't checked the three days before that!)
Some cool things today...
I got my cover for my September release:
I also found out that Renegade was #9 on the Amber Heat Bestseller list for July!
And I got a nice review for Renegade from Book Utopia.
So now we're on the downside of the summer. Even though we passed the halfway mark some time ago, getting ready for Holland and San Francisco was still climbing up to the high points of the season. Now we have doctor and car appointments, soccer practices, school open houses, and tournaments before the start of school on August 25.
And you know what? I'm sad about that.
Saturday, August 02, 2008
RWA Day 4: aka, Halfway to Brain Dead
Friday is the day a lot of people start to crash, especially if they came early in the week. It's often the busiest business day for people, though not always. Sometimes things are more spread out, sometimes they are all on Thursday. Friday was a busy day for me.
Started in the morning, continental breakfast, meeting with my Gab Wagon colleagues, Cathy McDavid and Monica Burns. (Note: Yes, I know I have not linked to a single author or other kind of site. I fail. Sorry.) We sat and chatted about lots of stuff for a really long time, pretty much until we were the only ones left in the giant ballroom.
I then went through the Grand Central Publishing author signing and the Avon author signing and hit the St. Martin's spotlight before lunch. The awards luncheon is always great (holier-than-thou-ness again: If you don't have a really, really important reason for leaving early, don't. These people deserve your respect and attention.). The luncheon speakers both days were great (forgot to mention Thursday's luncheon speaker). They always are. Every year, I imagine myself up there as one of my Ways To Know I Have Arrived (aka, Symbols of Success). Then I imagine myself as the first conference speaker ever to bomb totally, and I hope they never ask me.
I met with my agent this afternoon, and it was a great meeting. I adore her as much as ever. And no, I'm not looking for points. She doesn't even read this blog. (I don't think.)
After that, we went up to the Berkley signing, which had a hugungous line. I told her she should cut 'cause she was just going to go see a client, and assured her no one would get mad. She's an AGENT! But I did not wait in line. I went down to the Harlequin signing, where I waited in a slightly shorter line for a little while, talking to a Harlequin Superromance author whose name I'd recognize like *that* but who I now cannot recall for the life of me. Sorry! :(
Once inside, they wanted to keep the line moving in one direction to try to keep order and control in the room. I understood that--they had a LOT of authors--but in practice it was kind of stupid. We waited in line for like 20 minutes, maybe more, and half the room was empty while we waited in empty space for longer. No one was approaching the first author, so I walked up and got her book, then skipped all the category books and jumped ahead to the single titles (the side of the room with hardly any people--very inefficient). I got bunches of great books for free, met some authors I respect and appreciate and said so, and got out of there before the person who'd been in front of me in line had even moved a foot.
I'm so sneaky.
I got into the Berkley signing in the last 15 minutes. Most of the authors had left early, but a few were still there, so I got my first-ever Nora Roberts (JD Robb) signature.
Then I went to the workshop on Alternative Romance, half of which was conducted by three of my fellow Amber Quill Press authors, ML Rhodes, Lyndi Lamont, and Caitlyn Willows/Cassie Stevens. (Yes, I know, still no links--I don't have enough awake brain cells to fill them in. Sorry again.). I had never met any of these wonderful women (though Caitlyn/Cassie/Catherine, my fabulous editor, is pretty sure I was her underling at a previous RWA conference). After the smart, well-constructed, and full-house workshop, we joined up with ML's mother and Cindy Procter-King and went to dinner at John's Grill.
Interesting sightseeing note: John's Grill is where Dashiell Hammett set The Maltese Falcon. Very atmospheric, excellent food!
And the company was also excellent. I can't believe I felt so comfortable with them. I mean, I've been working with them and doing time on the AQP loops and stuff for years, so it makes sense that I would, but I'm a social misfit and always expect to fall flat on my face with the small talk stuff. As far as I can tell, I didn't. And if the others say otherwise, well, hey, I didn't link to their blogs, so you won't know! LOL
And that brings you up to date. I'm sitting outside the closed Starbucks while the rest of my friends are at their own publisher parties, alternating between typing up this blog and reading e-mail. I'm having trouble sending replies, which is making me mad and might lead me to not send anything else until I'm in the airport Sunday night/Monday morning. I can't tell if some of these are sending or not, so some might go more than once, some not at all. Apologies either way. :(
Tomorrow is a quieter day for me. More publisher signings, if I can squeeze them in--several are at the same time!--and some workshops before the award ceremony, which is always exciting and fun and I have a great dress even if I don't have a great body, so I'm looking forward to it 100%.
I have to say, I have only two regrets about this conference so far:
1. I have not found Amy Atwell, whom I really wanted to meet.
2. I have not had time to talk to Trish Milburn or Sherry Davis or Peggy Emard at any length. Trish and Sherry are busy with board duties, but missing Peggy is all me. Maybe tomorrow I can rectify that.
Stay tuned for more!
Started in the morning, continental breakfast, meeting with my Gab Wagon colleagues, Cathy McDavid and Monica Burns. (Note: Yes, I know I have not linked to a single author or other kind of site. I fail. Sorry.) We sat and chatted about lots of stuff for a really long time, pretty much until we were the only ones left in the giant ballroom.
I then went through the Grand Central Publishing author signing and the Avon author signing and hit the St. Martin's spotlight before lunch. The awards luncheon is always great (holier-than-thou-ness again: If you don't have a really, really important reason for leaving early, don't. These people deserve your respect and attention.). The luncheon speakers both days were great (forgot to mention Thursday's luncheon speaker). They always are. Every year, I imagine myself up there as one of my Ways To Know I Have Arrived (aka, Symbols of Success). Then I imagine myself as the first conference speaker ever to bomb totally, and I hope they never ask me.
I met with my agent this afternoon, and it was a great meeting. I adore her as much as ever. And no, I'm not looking for points. She doesn't even read this blog. (I don't think.)
After that, we went up to the Berkley signing, which had a hugungous line. I told her she should cut 'cause she was just going to go see a client, and assured her no one would get mad. She's an AGENT! But I did not wait in line. I went down to the Harlequin signing, where I waited in a slightly shorter line for a little while, talking to a Harlequin Superromance author whose name I'd recognize like *that* but who I now cannot recall for the life of me. Sorry! :(
Once inside, they wanted to keep the line moving in one direction to try to keep order and control in the room. I understood that--they had a LOT of authors--but in practice it was kind of stupid. We waited in line for like 20 minutes, maybe more, and half the room was empty while we waited in empty space for longer. No one was approaching the first author, so I walked up and got her book, then skipped all the category books and jumped ahead to the single titles (the side of the room with hardly any people--very inefficient). I got bunches of great books for free, met some authors I respect and appreciate and said so, and got out of there before the person who'd been in front of me in line had even moved a foot.
I'm so sneaky.
I got into the Berkley signing in the last 15 minutes. Most of the authors had left early, but a few were still there, so I got my first-ever Nora Roberts (JD Robb) signature.
Then I went to the workshop on Alternative Romance, half of which was conducted by three of my fellow Amber Quill Press authors, ML Rhodes, Lyndi Lamont, and Caitlyn Willows/Cassie Stevens. (Yes, I know, still no links--I don't have enough awake brain cells to fill them in. Sorry again.). I had never met any of these wonderful women (though Caitlyn/Cassie/Catherine, my fabulous editor, is pretty sure I was her underling at a previous RWA conference). After the smart, well-constructed, and full-house workshop, we joined up with ML's mother and Cindy Procter-King and went to dinner at John's Grill.
Interesting sightseeing note: John's Grill is where Dashiell Hammett set The Maltese Falcon. Very atmospheric, excellent food!
And the company was also excellent. I can't believe I felt so comfortable with them. I mean, I've been working with them and doing time on the AQP loops and stuff for years, so it makes sense that I would, but I'm a social misfit and always expect to fall flat on my face with the small talk stuff. As far as I can tell, I didn't. And if the others say otherwise, well, hey, I didn't link to their blogs, so you won't know! LOL
And that brings you up to date. I'm sitting outside the closed Starbucks while the rest of my friends are at their own publisher parties, alternating between typing up this blog and reading e-mail. I'm having trouble sending replies, which is making me mad and might lead me to not send anything else until I'm in the airport Sunday night/Monday morning. I can't tell if some of these are sending or not, so some might go more than once, some not at all. Apologies either way. :(
Tomorrow is a quieter day for me. More publisher signings, if I can squeeze them in--several are at the same time!--and some workshops before the award ceremony, which is always exciting and fun and I have a great dress even if I don't have a great body, so I'm looking forward to it 100%.
I have to say, I have only two regrets about this conference so far:
1. I have not found Amy Atwell, whom I really wanted to meet.
2. I have not had time to talk to Trish Milburn or Sherry Davis or Peggy Emard at any length. Trish and Sherry are busy with board duties, but missing Peggy is all me. Maybe tomorrow I can rectify that.
Stay tuned for more!
RWA Day 3
I forgot to mention that on the flight from Atlanta to Salt Lake City we had those cool in-seat monitor thingies. I haven't been on a flight that long since I was 9, so I've never gotten to use them before. You can see where the plane is and get data on speed, head wind, external temperature, distance flown, and ETA. The last is especially handy when your flight leaves late and you have a very short layover. Handy for stressing yourself the hell out, anyway.
These monitors also had paid movies and TV and games, as well as a free trivia game, like they have at Damon's Grill. You can compete against fellow fliers. It was so much fun! I won twice, and Randy in my row won twice, and in the last game, Lisa, between us, and Randy and I were dominating the top three, switching places with each question and totally locking out the punk kids behind us who won when we didn't. There was a sense of camaraderie I don't usually cultivate when I travel. I like my solitude. But this was great fun.
I forgot to mention, too, that this hotel has the Best. Elevators. Ever. People who've attended past conferences in New York and Dallas and maybe Atlanta, I don't remember for sure which ones were the worst, will remember the 20-minute waits for any car at all. Then when they came, they'd be full. Then they'd stop, of course, on every floor before yours. People would get on to go in the opposite direction because at least they'd be on a car, and eventually it would go the other way.
I swear, here, at least half the time I call for an elevator, it's empty. They come within 30 seconds every single time. No matter where you start, you never have to wait. Even when 2000 of us are coming out of a luncheon and all heading for the 'vator, it's only a two- or three-minute wait. Whoever designed the low-rise, mid-rise, and high-rise system in this particular hotel is a genius.
Thursday is the official kickoff of the conference. This year the structure was a little different. They had an opening session with a motivational speaker/pianist who was very good. She didn't say a lot that we haven't all heard before, but she had good stories to go with the messages, and it was a nice way to kick off.
Then we had the Annual General Meeting. Let me take a minute to be obnoxiously holier-than-thou. Out of 2000 attendees, we had only 311 people show up for the AGM, and 150 proxies. Wait, that isn't right. People who showed up PLUS proxies were only about 311. That's RIDICULOUS. I know it's a catch-22. There was no business on the agenda to conduct, like changes to the bylaws or anything, so people didn't bother to go or send proxies. But because they didn't do so, we couldn't conduct business if anyone brought up anything new. I consider attendance or at least proxy participation to be an obligation, to help the organization I get so much out of to run properly. I contend that if you don't think RWA does anything for you, you have a BIGGER obligation to attend and be part of the change that will make it do something for you. Obviously, that's a generalization to which there will be myriad legitimate exceptions, but that's my default viewpoint.
/holier-than-thou.
When you attend the AGM, you learn great stuff like this (which I shouldn't post, because then it makes attending the AGM even less important, but I am a blabbermouth, so I shall anyway):
Every year, discussions ensue about how RWA chooses conference hotels and why they don't go to X city or more central locations, etc. Allison Kelley (who KNEW MY NAME AND WAS EXCITED TO MEET ME IN PERSON SQUEEEE) told us that a few years ago, a survey was done of the entire country to see what hotels meet RWA's rather unique needs: size, double/double rooms available, meeting space, banquet needs, etc. There were only 22 hotels in the entire country. The survey is ongoing, as they are aware a hotel is being built in LA that fits our needs, but we do book several years out. Dallas has a new hotel that we could use but that wasn't built when we booked last year's conference. Since we go to New York every four years, we have a contract signed for 2019 (which will give us a really good rate, relatively speaking). That kind of lead time causes some restrictions, too.
Las Vegas was discussed, because people always ask and the most construction/growth is there, but they don't want us. We don't fit their demographic.
Also mentioned was the option of going to a convention center instead of an all-inclusive hotel. Now, I think most of us don't want that, anyway. We like going up to our rooms frequently, and not having to lug around dozens of books after the publisher signings. For example. And we couldn't all hang out in the bar at 1:00 a.m. when we're in a bunch of different hotels. But convention centers would give us more flexibility in location, so it's a possibility. Unfortunately, it would significantly increase costs, because we'd have to pay for all of the meeting space used, which we don't have to do at all now because we use the banquet services and guarantee occupancy.
Anyway. That's enough about that boring stuff. What else did I do on Thursday?
*thinks*
Man. I don't remember! I think I tried to check e-mail. I started this post, and got interrupted, and then went to a workshop. It was a great workshop. Joss Whedon's Firefly, and applying his genius to your own work. I know, why would I go to that? I could practically teach it. But it was excellent, and I won a T-shirt by completing the following exchange:
"You know what your sin is, Mal?"
"Hell, I'm a fan of all seven."
Only I didn't say "hell" because it was being recorded. The rest is "But right now, I'm gonna have to go with wrath."
After that I went to dinner with old friends and new ones (Regan, if you see this, let me know your last name so I can keep an eye out for your books once you sell!) and then went with Monica Burns to the Knight Agency party at a place called First Crush. I met Sarah Reinke and Shannon McKelden there, and had a wonderful time talking to them, as well as Monica and her husband. I also got to talk to my agent for a while about Comic-Con. She didn't bring me kisses from Jensen Ackles. What kind of agent is she? Sheesh.
When I got back I hung in the bar with Tracy Madison for a while, then went to bed and crashed, falling asleep while Lisa tried to talk to me about her schedule the next day. Sorry, Lisa, I swear I was trying to pay attention, but now I have no idea what you said.
Oh, wait. Between dinner and the party we went to the Moonlight Madness Bazaar. I got a treat for a goals prize for CPRW (my local chapter) and some goodies for friends who are stuck back at home eating themselves alive with jealousy. Also, totally killing me in our writing challenge. But they get treats anyway.
I have to go read my 107 e-mails (I had 198 when I started, the rest was spam and research loop mail I decided to skip). After that, if I have a few brain cells still working, I'll post about today!
These monitors also had paid movies and TV and games, as well as a free trivia game, like they have at Damon's Grill. You can compete against fellow fliers. It was so much fun! I won twice, and Randy in my row won twice, and in the last game, Lisa, between us, and Randy and I were dominating the top three, switching places with each question and totally locking out the punk kids behind us who won when we didn't. There was a sense of camaraderie I don't usually cultivate when I travel. I like my solitude. But this was great fun.
I forgot to mention, too, that this hotel has the Best. Elevators. Ever. People who've attended past conferences in New York and Dallas and maybe Atlanta, I don't remember for sure which ones were the worst, will remember the 20-minute waits for any car at all. Then when they came, they'd be full. Then they'd stop, of course, on every floor before yours. People would get on to go in the opposite direction because at least they'd be on a car, and eventually it would go the other way.
I swear, here, at least half the time I call for an elevator, it's empty. They come within 30 seconds every single time. No matter where you start, you never have to wait. Even when 2000 of us are coming out of a luncheon and all heading for the 'vator, it's only a two- or three-minute wait. Whoever designed the low-rise, mid-rise, and high-rise system in this particular hotel is a genius.
Thursday is the official kickoff of the conference. This year the structure was a little different. They had an opening session with a motivational speaker/pianist who was very good. She didn't say a lot that we haven't all heard before, but she had good stories to go with the messages, and it was a nice way to kick off.
Then we had the Annual General Meeting. Let me take a minute to be obnoxiously holier-than-thou. Out of 2000 attendees, we had only 311 people show up for the AGM, and 150 proxies. Wait, that isn't right. People who showed up PLUS proxies were only about 311. That's RIDICULOUS. I know it's a catch-22. There was no business on the agenda to conduct, like changes to the bylaws or anything, so people didn't bother to go or send proxies. But because they didn't do so, we couldn't conduct business if anyone brought up anything new. I consider attendance or at least proxy participation to be an obligation, to help the organization I get so much out of to run properly. I contend that if you don't think RWA does anything for you, you have a BIGGER obligation to attend and be part of the change that will make it do something for you. Obviously, that's a generalization to which there will be myriad legitimate exceptions, but that's my default viewpoint.
/holier-than-thou.
When you attend the AGM, you learn great stuff like this (which I shouldn't post, because then it makes attending the AGM even less important, but I am a blabbermouth, so I shall anyway):
Every year, discussions ensue about how RWA chooses conference hotels and why they don't go to X city or more central locations, etc. Allison Kelley (who KNEW MY NAME AND WAS EXCITED TO MEET ME IN PERSON SQUEEEE) told us that a few years ago, a survey was done of the entire country to see what hotels meet RWA's rather unique needs: size, double/double rooms available, meeting space, banquet needs, etc. There were only 22 hotels in the entire country. The survey is ongoing, as they are aware a hotel is being built in LA that fits our needs, but we do book several years out. Dallas has a new hotel that we could use but that wasn't built when we booked last year's conference. Since we go to New York every four years, we have a contract signed for 2019 (which will give us a really good rate, relatively speaking). That kind of lead time causes some restrictions, too.
Las Vegas was discussed, because people always ask and the most construction/growth is there, but they don't want us. We don't fit their demographic.
Also mentioned was the option of going to a convention center instead of an all-inclusive hotel. Now, I think most of us don't want that, anyway. We like going up to our rooms frequently, and not having to lug around dozens of books after the publisher signings. For example. And we couldn't all hang out in the bar at 1:00 a.m. when we're in a bunch of different hotels. But convention centers would give us more flexibility in location, so it's a possibility. Unfortunately, it would significantly increase costs, because we'd have to pay for all of the meeting space used, which we don't have to do at all now because we use the banquet services and guarantee occupancy.
Anyway. That's enough about that boring stuff. What else did I do on Thursday?
*thinks*
Man. I don't remember! I think I tried to check e-mail. I started this post, and got interrupted, and then went to a workshop. It was a great workshop. Joss Whedon's Firefly, and applying his genius to your own work. I know, why would I go to that? I could practically teach it. But it was excellent, and I won a T-shirt by completing the following exchange:
"You know what your sin is, Mal?"
"Hell, I'm a fan of all seven."
Only I didn't say "hell" because it was being recorded. The rest is "But right now, I'm gonna have to go with wrath."
After that I went to dinner with old friends and new ones (Regan, if you see this, let me know your last name so I can keep an eye out for your books once you sell!) and then went with Monica Burns to the Knight Agency party at a place called First Crush. I met Sarah Reinke and Shannon McKelden there, and had a wonderful time talking to them, as well as Monica and her husband. I also got to talk to my agent for a while about Comic-Con. She didn't bring me kisses from Jensen Ackles. What kind of agent is she? Sheesh.
When I got back I hung in the bar with Tracy Madison for a while, then went to bed and crashed, falling asleep while Lisa tried to talk to me about her schedule the next day. Sorry, Lisa, I swear I was trying to pay attention, but now I have no idea what you said.
Oh, wait. Between dinner and the party we went to the Moonlight Madness Bazaar. I got a treat for a goals prize for CPRW (my local chapter) and some goodies for friends who are stuck back at home eating themselves alive with jealousy. Also, totally killing me in our writing challenge. But they get treats anyway.
I have to go read my 107 e-mails (I had 198 when I started, the rest was spam and research loop mail I decided to skip). After that, if I have a few brain cells still working, I'll post about today!
Thursday, July 31, 2008
RWA Day 2
Wednesday, for possibly the first time since my first conference in 2000, I had nothing official scheduled. Usually I do the Chapter President's Retreat (called something else this year, I forget what) but I'm not leadership anymore, so I skipped that and spent the whole day sightseeing.
We went down to Fisherman's Wharf, saw the sea lions, walked the pier, and took pictures of Alcatraz. We were supposed to go to Alcatraz, but they sold out long before we tried to get ferry tickets, so that didn't work out. Majorly bummed.
But I got to hang out with people I see once a year, or once every two years, and it was delightful. We also took a trolley tour of the city, which was awesome. We saw the crookedest street and Nob Hill and just some great views and neighborhoods. I took lots of cool pictures and will post them when I get home.
I got a little writing and editing done both Tuesday and Wednesday, which keeps me (kind of) in the weekly challenge. OH! And I saw tons of people I love to see every year, like Trish Milburn and Sherry Davis and her friend Mary who I always recognize and whose last name I also always fail to remember. I won't name more because my brain isn't firing on all cylinders and I'll miss some and insult people. At least this way they can be insulted by my deliberate decision not to list more names, not by an inadvertent and therefore more painful forgetfulness.
Wednesday is also known as The Day I Blew My Budget. Sightseeing and souvenir-buying and an expensive but wonderful lunch plus the way-too-much I spent at the Literacy Signing were the culprits. But hey, the 520 authors at the signing made over $58,000 for charity in two hours, so that's pretty impressive. And I was a great part of it.
Finished the day at a wine party in Cathy McDavid's room. Met some more new people. Yawned a lot, irritating Cathy during her stories. Went to bed at a decent(!) hour.
Thursday, Day 3, is the official start to the conference. Stay tuned!
We went down to Fisherman's Wharf, saw the sea lions, walked the pier, and took pictures of Alcatraz. We were supposed to go to Alcatraz, but they sold out long before we tried to get ferry tickets, so that didn't work out. Majorly bummed.
But I got to hang out with people I see once a year, or once every two years, and it was delightful. We also took a trolley tour of the city, which was awesome. We saw the crookedest street and Nob Hill and just some great views and neighborhoods. I took lots of cool pictures and will post them when I get home.
I got a little writing and editing done both Tuesday and Wednesday, which keeps me (kind of) in the weekly challenge. OH! And I saw tons of people I love to see every year, like Trish Milburn and Sherry Davis and her friend Mary who I always recognize and whose last name I also always fail to remember. I won't name more because my brain isn't firing on all cylinders and I'll miss some and insult people. At least this way they can be insulted by my deliberate decision not to list more names, not by an inadvertent and therefore more painful forgetfulness.
Wednesday is also known as The Day I Blew My Budget. Sightseeing and souvenir-buying and an expensive but wonderful lunch plus the way-too-much I spent at the Literacy Signing were the culprits. But hey, the 520 authors at the signing made over $58,000 for charity in two hours, so that's pretty impressive. And I was a great part of it.
Finished the day at a wine party in Cathy McDavid's room. Met some more new people. Yawned a lot, irritating Cathy during her stories. Went to bed at a decent(!) hour.
Thursday, Day 3, is the official start to the conference. Stay tuned!
RWA Day 1
Day 1 wasn't really RWA. Day 1 was flying, and sitting, and flying, and running through the airport, dragging Lisa behind me, because of being this > < close to departure time for our last leg to Oakland. Which was late. So, not unexpectedly when you have two layovers, we got to the hotel well after 11:00 p.m. We didn't sleep until 4:00 a.m. Eastern. Yay, good start against the jetlag!
Our flight wasn't supposed to be so long. When we booked them, she was flying from Boston to Atlanta, where I'd join her for the flight to Oakland. But Delta added a stop in Salt Lake City.
And let me tell you, I am so glad they did!
Usually when I fly somewhere, it's on the east coast. I haven't been to California since I was 9, and haven't been any further west than Dallas since then, either. So while there are some minor differences when I fly over terrain--Texas is flatter, Georgia has bigger driveways--everything looks pretty much the same.
That is SO not true of Utah!
The mountains, and plateaus, and lakes, and whatever those dark spots are that are evenly spaced between rises and look like they have roads to them and are either small bodies of water or gigantic homes...those are all cool enough. But MAN, is the area around Salt Lake City gorgeous! It's like a different planet, one of those fantasy concoctions, with mountains right up against the lake, and salt everywhere, and even the more familiar agrarian areas laid out in humongous squares instead of little plots.
As we circled for our approach, the sun dipped below the cloud cover and shone brilliantly red, reflected on the lake, with enough beauty to crack even my unsentimental, icy heart. I got out my camera--and immediately dropped it, causing the beauty to become second only to my fear that the camera was sliding all over the plane every time it banked. (It didn't, but I lamented every minute I couldn't take pictures of gorgeousness).
I fly through LA instead of Salt Lake City on the way home. Yay.
We took a cab from Oakland's airport to SF. I'm not really a city person, and tend to think they all look alike. As we drove past downtown Oakland, the cabbie pointed it out like a really interesting landmark. I was "eh." It looked just like Dallas.
But San Francisco is definitely unique (that's the main reason I wanted to come!). As you cross the Bay Bridge at night, you can see the crookedy, hilly streets illuminated on either side of the (okay, common-looking) downtown area. The view didn't last long, a benefit of coming in so damned late--traffic was awesomely light.
So Day 1, I saw Lisa Mondello and new author Tracy Madison (the cause of our very late bedtime) and did nothing else.
Stay tuned for Day 2's much more interesting awesomeness!
Our flight wasn't supposed to be so long. When we booked them, she was flying from Boston to Atlanta, where I'd join her for the flight to Oakland. But Delta added a stop in Salt Lake City.
And let me tell you, I am so glad they did!
Usually when I fly somewhere, it's on the east coast. I haven't been to California since I was 9, and haven't been any further west than Dallas since then, either. So while there are some minor differences when I fly over terrain--Texas is flatter, Georgia has bigger driveways--everything looks pretty much the same.
That is SO not true of Utah!
The mountains, and plateaus, and lakes, and whatever those dark spots are that are evenly spaced between rises and look like they have roads to them and are either small bodies of water or gigantic homes...those are all cool enough. But MAN, is the area around Salt Lake City gorgeous! It's like a different planet, one of those fantasy concoctions, with mountains right up against the lake, and salt everywhere, and even the more familiar agrarian areas laid out in humongous squares instead of little plots.
As we circled for our approach, the sun dipped below the cloud cover and shone brilliantly red, reflected on the lake, with enough beauty to crack even my unsentimental, icy heart. I got out my camera--and immediately dropped it, causing the beauty to become second only to my fear that the camera was sliding all over the plane every time it banked. (It didn't, but I lamented every minute I couldn't take pictures of gorgeousness).
I fly through LA instead of Salt Lake City on the way home. Yay.
We took a cab from Oakland's airport to SF. I'm not really a city person, and tend to think they all look alike. As we drove past downtown Oakland, the cabbie pointed it out like a really interesting landmark. I was "eh." It looked just like Dallas.
But San Francisco is definitely unique (that's the main reason I wanted to come!). As you cross the Bay Bridge at night, you can see the crookedy, hilly streets illuminated on either side of the (okay, common-looking) downtown area. The view didn't last long, a benefit of coming in so damned late--traffic was awesomely light.
So Day 1, I saw Lisa Mondello and new author Tracy Madison (the cause of our very late bedtime) and did nothing else.
Stay tuned for Day 2's much more interesting awesomeness!
Monday, July 28, 2008
Spewage
So I leave tomorrow morning for San Francisco, the RWA National Conference 2008. Like last week, I was going to do posts in advance and set them up to post automatically. But...
1. That doesn't work on LiveJournal and MySpace
and
2. I ran out of time to make up and copy/paste six posts.
So I'm just going to spew all the stuff in my head right now (which isn't much, actually, a lot of it drained away during the course of the day) and then you guys get a break from me for a whole week.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Number One got back from Holland yesterday. She babbled nonstop from the airport through dinner and about 15 minutes into our 2-hour drive home, then crashed hard. The most memorable comment:
"I'm so glad I'm home and I can stop being responsible for myself."
It's interesting. In fifth grade, she went with her entire class to Williamsburg for three days. She came back with a new level of maturity. I expected it to happen this time, too, but she's exactly the same. She did new things, and made tons of friends, and used a credit card, but didn't change at all. I guess that's not a bad thing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm up to season 5 of Buffy, eight episodes in. And I have to say, I'm all "Angel who?"
Riley is awesome, and I'm glad his role has gone on as long as it has. In the episode where Xander got split, Riley broke my heart at the end--actually brought tears to my eyes!--when he said how Buffy makes him feel like two people, on fire to touch her, yet at peace with contentment, and then he turned to Xander and said "But she doesn't love me."
Dagger to the heart.
And of course the beginning of the end. I like how they're going slow with it. Not like with Oz, where they shredded us.
And then the very next episode...
Let me tell you, I've loved Spike from the moment he came on screen. He's the best-written, best-acted character on the show, and he gets the funniest lines. So they have Ripley breaking my heart, and then Spike expressing his love for the Slayer. Got some heart-rolling-over-in-the-chest over that. *sigh*
I have to wait a week to watch more. :( Not that what I'll be doing instead won't be worth it...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some letters to the editor of Entertainment Weekly irritated me this week. I "get" the phenomenon of the Twilight series, insofar as I can see why teens love them to the level of insanity, and why so many adults enjoy them, too. I have enjoyed the books, more than a lot of things I've tried to read this year, but I found the first one very slow, and I'm completely annoyed by Bela at this point. I'm one of the rare few who prefers Jacob over Edward. They're both great, and I LOVE a two-hero situation, but I think Bela is herself when she is with Jacob, and when she's with Edward, she becomes someone different.
However. It's a story. People love it because it's a good story. Not too many of them are going to be influenced by it. And even if millions of teen girls throw themselves desperately at a boy who would be considered bad for them by their parents--if it's someone like Edward, they'll be in great shape.
Oh, and the person who said something derogatory about making them like a Harlequin romance? Uh, honey, the romance in the book is pretty much EXACTLY like a Harlequin romance. Just with more stuff going on around it, and with another guy in the mix. And that's NOT a bad thing!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I can't think of anything else I was going to talk about, so I'll leave you with this:
Go buy Renegade!
A taste:
The rumble of the classic car, an unmistakable sound that heralded joy as well as a major pain in the ass, woke Trex at 2:53 Sunday morning. She lay there for a minute, her dream and the accompanying fog of sensuality fading as she listened to the creak and thud of two car doors opening and closing. So Jake wasn’t alone this time. Her mind flipped through possibilities—one of the children, one of the parents, even a girlfriend. After all, she hadn’t seen him in over a year.
Her condo’s bedroom was over the garage, and she’d installed a vent so she could hear anything going on down there. Jake didn’t know that.
“Why are we here?”
Trex didn’t recognize the first voice, but the one that answered was as familiar a purr as the car’s engine had been. It was accompanied by the creak of what was probably the trunk opening.
“I told you, they’ll be watching our known associates. She’s not a known associate.”
“And, again, why are we here?”
The trunk slammed. “I trust her.”
“So she knows?”
“She knows enough.”
Trex slid out of bed and grabbed her robe. Jake wouldn’t even notice her silk nightgown, but it wasn’t a proper greeting for the new guy, whoever he was.
She paused at the bedroom door when Jake spoke again.
“Look, Trex has been my best friend since we were kids.”
“I thought I was your best friend.”
The new guy was close enough to Jake to tease him, to make the claim of best friend when Jake hadn’t even known him a year ago. Trex’s curiosity—and a hint of jealousy—rose.
“Sure, yeah. But it’s different. The point is, I trust her. She has space for us, she won’t rat us out, and she lives under the radar.”
“You sure about that? You didn’t call her to tell her we were coming.”
Keys rattled, so Trex opened her bedroom door to head down the hall.
“I’m sure.”
“You said her name is what? Treks? What kind of name is that?”
Weariness flattened the humor in Jake’s voice. “You’ll have to ask her.”
Trex didn’t hear any more as she reached the end of the hall and turned into the kitchen. Outside the kitchen door came heavy, booted foot-thumps up the stairs from the garage. She removed a jug of orange juice from the refrigerator and poured an iced tea glass full, then turned when keys rattled again and the door opened.
Jake’s haggard face came first, under severely rumpled, spiky blond hair. He was way overdue for a cut. His lips curved when he saw her. He dropped an army-green duffle on the floor, his gaze latching on to the glass in her hand.
“Bless the whores and thank you, Jesus.” He reached for the glass and gulped half of it, pulling her up against him with his free arm. Her body sighed in recognition. Trex watched him drink, his throat working, the curve of his jaw outlined above her. An image flashed into her head, skin and writhing bodies. His? He’d been the man in her dream. The one in front. She focused on the heat burning into her from Jake’s arm around her waist, a sensation she craved both when he was gone and when he was here.
A discreet cough behind them made her jump. She’d forgotten the new guy. Jake let her go, and she turned. And jolted, recognition shooting through her. She didn’t know why, because she’d never seen him before. But she did know, at a deeper, less rational level. He was the other man in her dream.
“Hi.” The very tall, very broad man standing behind them gave an uncomfortable, close-mouthed grin. “Sorry to barge in on you like this.” His dark green eyes were dull, and her heart sank. She knew that look. She looked back at Jake, who’d drained his glass, and now noticed the pallor to his skin, the slump of his entire body. Despair pulled at her, and she wasn’t sure if it was empathy for what Jake had to be feeling, a response to her ongoing failure to comfort him, or a combination of the two.
The remnants of her dream faded completely.
1. That doesn't work on LiveJournal and MySpace
and
2. I ran out of time to make up and copy/paste six posts.
So I'm just going to spew all the stuff in my head right now (which isn't much, actually, a lot of it drained away during the course of the day) and then you guys get a break from me for a whole week.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Number One got back from Holland yesterday. She babbled nonstop from the airport through dinner and about 15 minutes into our 2-hour drive home, then crashed hard. The most memorable comment:
"I'm so glad I'm home and I can stop being responsible for myself."
It's interesting. In fifth grade, she went with her entire class to Williamsburg for three days. She came back with a new level of maturity. I expected it to happen this time, too, but she's exactly the same. She did new things, and made tons of friends, and used a credit card, but didn't change at all. I guess that's not a bad thing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm up to season 5 of Buffy, eight episodes in. And I have to say, I'm all "Angel who?"
Riley is awesome, and I'm glad his role has gone on as long as it has. In the episode where Xander got split, Riley broke my heart at the end--actually brought tears to my eyes!--when he said how Buffy makes him feel like two people, on fire to touch her, yet at peace with contentment, and then he turned to Xander and said "But she doesn't love me."
Dagger to the heart.
And of course the beginning of the end. I like how they're going slow with it. Not like with Oz, where they shredded us.
And then the very next episode...
Let me tell you, I've loved Spike from the moment he came on screen. He's the best-written, best-acted character on the show, and he gets the funniest lines. So they have Ripley breaking my heart, and then Spike expressing his love for the Slayer. Got some heart-rolling-over-in-the-chest over that. *sigh*
I have to wait a week to watch more. :( Not that what I'll be doing instead won't be worth it...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some letters to the editor of Entertainment Weekly irritated me this week. I "get" the phenomenon of the Twilight series, insofar as I can see why teens love them to the level of insanity, and why so many adults enjoy them, too. I have enjoyed the books, more than a lot of things I've tried to read this year, but I found the first one very slow, and I'm completely annoyed by Bela at this point. I'm one of the rare few who prefers Jacob over Edward. They're both great, and I LOVE a two-hero situation, but I think Bela is herself when she is with Jacob, and when she's with Edward, she becomes someone different.
However. It's a story. People love it because it's a good story. Not too many of them are going to be influenced by it. And even if millions of teen girls throw themselves desperately at a boy who would be considered bad for them by their parents--if it's someone like Edward, they'll be in great shape.
Oh, and the person who said something derogatory about making them like a Harlequin romance? Uh, honey, the romance in the book is pretty much EXACTLY like a Harlequin romance. Just with more stuff going on around it, and with another guy in the mix. And that's NOT a bad thing!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I can't think of anything else I was going to talk about, so I'll leave you with this:
Go buy Renegade!
A taste:
The rumble of the classic car, an unmistakable sound that heralded joy as well as a major pain in the ass, woke Trex at 2:53 Sunday morning. She lay there for a minute, her dream and the accompanying fog of sensuality fading as she listened to the creak and thud of two car doors opening and closing. So Jake wasn’t alone this time. Her mind flipped through possibilities—one of the children, one of the parents, even a girlfriend. After all, she hadn’t seen him in over a year.
Her condo’s bedroom was over the garage, and she’d installed a vent so she could hear anything going on down there. Jake didn’t know that.
“Why are we here?”
Trex didn’t recognize the first voice, but the one that answered was as familiar a purr as the car’s engine had been. It was accompanied by the creak of what was probably the trunk opening.
“I told you, they’ll be watching our known associates. She’s not a known associate.”
“And, again, why are we here?”
The trunk slammed. “I trust her.”
“So she knows?”
“She knows enough.”
Trex slid out of bed and grabbed her robe. Jake wouldn’t even notice her silk nightgown, but it wasn’t a proper greeting for the new guy, whoever he was.
She paused at the bedroom door when Jake spoke again.
“Look, Trex has been my best friend since we were kids.”
“I thought I was your best friend.”
The new guy was close enough to Jake to tease him, to make the claim of best friend when Jake hadn’t even known him a year ago. Trex’s curiosity—and a hint of jealousy—rose.
“Sure, yeah. But it’s different. The point is, I trust her. She has space for us, she won’t rat us out, and she lives under the radar.”
“You sure about that? You didn’t call her to tell her we were coming.”
Keys rattled, so Trex opened her bedroom door to head down the hall.
“I’m sure.”
“You said her name is what? Treks? What kind of name is that?”
Weariness flattened the humor in Jake’s voice. “You’ll have to ask her.”
Trex didn’t hear any more as she reached the end of the hall and turned into the kitchen. Outside the kitchen door came heavy, booted foot-thumps up the stairs from the garage. She removed a jug of orange juice from the refrigerator and poured an iced tea glass full, then turned when keys rattled again and the door opened.
Jake’s haggard face came first, under severely rumpled, spiky blond hair. He was way overdue for a cut. His lips curved when he saw her. He dropped an army-green duffle on the floor, his gaze latching on to the glass in her hand.
“Bless the whores and thank you, Jesus.” He reached for the glass and gulped half of it, pulling her up against him with his free arm. Her body sighed in recognition. Trex watched him drink, his throat working, the curve of his jaw outlined above her. An image flashed into her head, skin and writhing bodies. His? He’d been the man in her dream. The one in front. She focused on the heat burning into her from Jake’s arm around her waist, a sensation she craved both when he was gone and when he was here.
A discreet cough behind them made her jump. She’d forgotten the new guy. Jake let her go, and she turned. And jolted, recognition shooting through her. She didn’t know why, because she’d never seen him before. But she did know, at a deeper, less rational level. He was the other man in her dream.
“Hi.” The very tall, very broad man standing behind them gave an uncomfortable, close-mouthed grin. “Sorry to barge in on you like this.” His dark green eyes were dull, and her heart sank. She knew that look. She looked back at Jake, who’d drained his glass, and now noticed the pallor to his skin, the slump of his entire body. Despair pulled at her, and she wasn’t sure if it was empathy for what Jake had to be feeling, a response to her ongoing failure to comfort him, or a combination of the two.
The remnants of her dream faded completely.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Actors. Sheesh.
I just finished reading this week's episode of Entertainment Weekly, and the opinion column talked about the Katherine Heigl Emmy thing. You know, how she said she dropped out of the Emmy race because she didn't feel she was given the material to warrant an award, and she didn't want to take away a nomination from someone else who deserved it.
The columnist defended the actress, pointed out the circumstances of her quote, praised her honesty, and kind of lambasted anyone who lambasted her.
And he had some good points. Made me feel like I should be 100% on the side of these pressured, struggling actresses no matter what. So I will agree that honesty is refreshing, bravery admirable, and a few grains of salt should be allowed for someone who is accosted leaving the gym or whatever.
But I still have some problems with it. First, she had to have known she'd be asked about her decision, and had time to think about what to say and how to say it. She could be honest without being insulting. Rhimes can say all she wants that she wasn't insulted; that's okay, I'll be insulted for her.
Heigl could have said her storyline didn't lend itself to an Emmy-worthy performance. That's not insulting. That's not saying the writing wasn't good enough. And maybe it wasn't. I don't watch the show, so I can't comment on whether or not the material was Emmy-quality. Even if it wasn't, it's not a good practice to publicly criticize your boss. If I'd gone on the news and said my former employer was a nutcase, I'd be fired.
Um. For example. She wasn't. A nutcase.
Worse, though, is the implication that even though the material was sub-par, she'd have been nominated anyway, even though she didn't deserve it, and someone who did a better job and had better material to work with wouldn't have gotten a nomination, because hey, she's Katherine Heigl. Of COURSE she'd be nominated, even if she sucked.
But that's enough about that.
Some other actor thoughts...
It's interesting how there are different "kinds" of good acting.
There's the Scarlett Johansson kind. Critics RAVE over her. I find that when I watch her, I'm seeing a mask. She puts on her performance, like a costume or even a facade. It has nothing to do with what's inside her, and doesn't touch her. Jared Padalecki used to have some of that, though to a lesser extreme. He's improved over the years, with maturity, so that his character seeps into him more, or draws more on his depths.
More common are the actors who do a great job but who are essentially playing themselves. They may be able to change their worldview, and are playing themselves in terms of how they'd be if they were the character they are playing and had gone through the things the character went through. But their mannerisms are impossible to bury, and their personalities impose themselves on their characters. Mel Gibson is a classic example--a tremendous actor with great range, but you never lose Mel Gibson. A more immediate one, for me, is Alyson Hannigan. She is pure Alyson Hannigan, whether she's a teenage witch in California or an engaged contemporary artist in New York City. I like her (better than I thought I would) and she doesn't make me think about the actress instead of the character (unlike Scarlett), but like Mel, she never disappears into the character.
The very best actors are those who do disappear into their performances. From all accounts, Heath Ledger's Joker epitomizes this. Those who saw him in A Knight's Tale and Brokeback Mountain will agree. Brendan Gleeson is another such actor, and so-called character actors are always this kind. You may know you've seen them somewhere, but not recall where, or who they played, unless you see a whole bunch of their stuff in a row. Jensen Ackles is too beautiful to totally disappear, but his performances as Dean on Supernatural are drawn from deep inside. Seth Green is kind of a hybrid of this and the last one. He has some definite quirks that follow from role to role--his manner of speaking, his way of moving--but he draws subtle emotion from deep inside. His torment in his last few episodes of Buffy was all in his eyes.
Okay, maybe I'm just a sucker for the eyes.
The third kind of actor probably draws the viewer deeper into their performance, shares it better, evokes more. That doesn't mean the others don't have merit, and can't be enjoyed as much, because they can. I find myself watching the acting sometimes as much as the show, and classifying performances.
Maybe I just watch too much TV.
The columnist defended the actress, pointed out the circumstances of her quote, praised her honesty, and kind of lambasted anyone who lambasted her.
And he had some good points. Made me feel like I should be 100% on the side of these pressured, struggling actresses no matter what. So I will agree that honesty is refreshing, bravery admirable, and a few grains of salt should be allowed for someone who is accosted leaving the gym or whatever.
But I still have some problems with it. First, she had to have known she'd be asked about her decision, and had time to think about what to say and how to say it. She could be honest without being insulting. Rhimes can say all she wants that she wasn't insulted; that's okay, I'll be insulted for her.
Heigl could have said her storyline didn't lend itself to an Emmy-worthy performance. That's not insulting. That's not saying the writing wasn't good enough. And maybe it wasn't. I don't watch the show, so I can't comment on whether or not the material was Emmy-quality. Even if it wasn't, it's not a good practice to publicly criticize your boss. If I'd gone on the news and said my former employer was a nutcase, I'd be fired.
Um. For example. She wasn't. A nutcase.
Worse, though, is the implication that even though the material was sub-par, she'd have been nominated anyway, even though she didn't deserve it, and someone who did a better job and had better material to work with wouldn't have gotten a nomination, because hey, she's Katherine Heigl. Of COURSE she'd be nominated, even if she sucked.
But that's enough about that.
Some other actor thoughts...
It's interesting how there are different "kinds" of good acting.
There's the Scarlett Johansson kind. Critics RAVE over her. I find that when I watch her, I'm seeing a mask. She puts on her performance, like a costume or even a facade. It has nothing to do with what's inside her, and doesn't touch her. Jared Padalecki used to have some of that, though to a lesser extreme. He's improved over the years, with maturity, so that his character seeps into him more, or draws more on his depths.
More common are the actors who do a great job but who are essentially playing themselves. They may be able to change their worldview, and are playing themselves in terms of how they'd be if they were the character they are playing and had gone through the things the character went through. But their mannerisms are impossible to bury, and their personalities impose themselves on their characters. Mel Gibson is a classic example--a tremendous actor with great range, but you never lose Mel Gibson. A more immediate one, for me, is Alyson Hannigan. She is pure Alyson Hannigan, whether she's a teenage witch in California or an engaged contemporary artist in New York City. I like her (better than I thought I would) and she doesn't make me think about the actress instead of the character (unlike Scarlett), but like Mel, she never disappears into the character.
The very best actors are those who do disappear into their performances. From all accounts, Heath Ledger's Joker epitomizes this. Those who saw him in A Knight's Tale and Brokeback Mountain will agree. Brendan Gleeson is another such actor, and so-called character actors are always this kind. You may know you've seen them somewhere, but not recall where, or who they played, unless you see a whole bunch of their stuff in a row. Jensen Ackles is too beautiful to totally disappear, but his performances as Dean on Supernatural are drawn from deep inside. Seth Green is kind of a hybrid of this and the last one. He has some definite quirks that follow from role to role--his manner of speaking, his way of moving--but he draws subtle emotion from deep inside. His torment in his last few episodes of Buffy was all in his eyes.
Okay, maybe I'm just a sucker for the eyes.
The third kind of actor probably draws the viewer deeper into their performance, shares it better, evokes more. That doesn't mean the others don't have merit, and can't be enjoyed as much, because they can. I find myself watching the acting sometimes as much as the show, and classifying performances.
Maybe I just watch too much TV.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Buffy. Finally.
Each summer for the last few, I've rented some TV shows on DVD, usually stuff that interested me in the past that I didn't have access to, or just didn't get around to watching. This summer I tried two cult-hit series. One was a complete hit, one a complete miss.
When I describe my reaction to the complete miss, I'm gonna piss off some people. I don't in any way intend my comments about the show to be any kind of commentary or judgment. It didn't work for me and that does not reflect at all on anyone else.
I know, you're dying of curiosity, right? Well then, let me tease you some more. :)
It's a show that had a long run, and started in the early 90s. Its subject would seem to be right up my alley. In fact, that's why I decided to give it a try. So many of my favorite shows now have writers from that old show, too. It seemed perfect for my summer viewing.
I hated it. Some stuff, you just have to overlook. I mean, we're talking 15 years ago. So fashions are laughable. ADR (the dubbing of dialogue because the original recording didn't work) has come a LONG way, let me tell you. Sometimes it seemed like they lip-synched for a whole hour. But what really surprised me, and killed my interest, was the writing. It was so illogical. And not in an "aliens are real" kind of way, I can totally buy into any of that stuff. But in a "make our characters stupid to fit a plot point" kind of way. In the last episode I watched--and I admit to only getting through four, even though I had another disk on hand--the hero slinks out of some tall grass onto a runway on a "secure" military base. He sees a really cool ship (early 90s special effects, gotta overlook it). Then he sees law enforcement lights, pretty far down the runway. Does he slink back into the tall grass where he can hide and get away? No. Idiot runs down the runway, away from a cop car and a big panel truck.
I could not condone that kind of stupidity.
The show, I'm sorry to say, was the X-Files.
So when I sadly wrote that one off, I started Buffy: The Vampire Slayer. I'd put that one off for a really long time, knowing I would probably like it--I mean, Joss Whedon! I've loved everything else he's ever done!--but there were some things that put me off. For one, I never cared for Sarah Michelle Gellar very much, nor for Alyson Hannigan. I couldn't really see the appeal of Spike or Angel from afar (I'd seen both actors in other things, and they didn't do anything for me). And I was afraid. I'd watched a couple of bits when J was flipping channels, and it seemed to belong to the age in which it was filmed (much like X-Files was). But everyone I know pushed me to try it, or at least proclaimed its brilliance. So I finally popped in that first disk, holding my breath.
And, of course, I love it.
Season 1 was okay. Season 2 was very good. I liked the heartbreaking finale best, I think. Season 3 was excellent, especially toward the end, when they pretended Angel went bad to corner Faith, and when they got the whole school to rally.
Season 4 got off to a bit of a rocky start, with too many episodes reducing people to stupidity. But then it started to soar. Any episode was better when Spike was in it. OMG, talk about brilliant. He gets the best lines, and has the most awesome delivery. The Thanksgiving episode and the one where Willow imposes her will, so Buffy and Spike are engaged, had me cracking up nonstop. I'm up to episode 11, and annoyed that I have to wait until Tuesday to watch any more. iTunes doesn't have more than the first two seasons; nor does Hulu. My local Blockbuster only has season 1, the losers. And TheWB.com has me all confused.
Not everything is perfect, of course. I miss Cordelia, and I'm really unhappy Oz is gone for good. Buffy's relationship issues, at this point, are kind of annoying. I mean, how much more perfect can Riley be? Giles seemed better in the library than at home (though I don't love him any less), and I want Xander to stop regressing. He has shown again and again he's not the loser they keep trying to make/keep him, and perhaps it's growing pains, a struggle to fit him into the ever-evolving world, but I hope he outgrows it soon.
It's really fun picking out people I've seen elsewhere, like Paris's boyfriend on Gilmore Girls, and Layla Rourke from Supernatural's episode "Faith," and various and sundry others. I'm happy that I have three and a half more seasons, and I wish I knew someone else who had the disks because it was so much nicer having them all here. This waiting-for-a-disk-for-four-days-over-the-weekend/Netflix thing isn't cutting it for me right now.
I didn't think I'd be interested in seeing Angel, but I have a feeling I'll be so disappointed when I'm done with Buffy that I'll be happy to venture down that road.
When I describe my reaction to the complete miss, I'm gonna piss off some people. I don't in any way intend my comments about the show to be any kind of commentary or judgment. It didn't work for me and that does not reflect at all on anyone else.
I know, you're dying of curiosity, right? Well then, let me tease you some more. :)
It's a show that had a long run, and started in the early 90s. Its subject would seem to be right up my alley. In fact, that's why I decided to give it a try. So many of my favorite shows now have writers from that old show, too. It seemed perfect for my summer viewing.
I hated it. Some stuff, you just have to overlook. I mean, we're talking 15 years ago. So fashions are laughable. ADR (the dubbing of dialogue because the original recording didn't work) has come a LONG way, let me tell you. Sometimes it seemed like they lip-synched for a whole hour. But what really surprised me, and killed my interest, was the writing. It was so illogical. And not in an "aliens are real" kind of way, I can totally buy into any of that stuff. But in a "make our characters stupid to fit a plot point" kind of way. In the last episode I watched--and I admit to only getting through four, even though I had another disk on hand--the hero slinks out of some tall grass onto a runway on a "secure" military base. He sees a really cool ship (early 90s special effects, gotta overlook it). Then he sees law enforcement lights, pretty far down the runway. Does he slink back into the tall grass where he can hide and get away? No. Idiot runs down the runway, away from a cop car and a big panel truck.
I could not condone that kind of stupidity.
The show, I'm sorry to say, was the X-Files.
So when I sadly wrote that one off, I started Buffy: The Vampire Slayer. I'd put that one off for a really long time, knowing I would probably like it--I mean, Joss Whedon! I've loved everything else he's ever done!--but there were some things that put me off. For one, I never cared for Sarah Michelle Gellar very much, nor for Alyson Hannigan. I couldn't really see the appeal of Spike or Angel from afar (I'd seen both actors in other things, and they didn't do anything for me). And I was afraid. I'd watched a couple of bits when J was flipping channels, and it seemed to belong to the age in which it was filmed (much like X-Files was). But everyone I know pushed me to try it, or at least proclaimed its brilliance. So I finally popped in that first disk, holding my breath.
And, of course, I love it.
Season 1 was okay. Season 2 was very good. I liked the heartbreaking finale best, I think. Season 3 was excellent, especially toward the end, when they pretended Angel went bad to corner Faith, and when they got the whole school to rally.
Season 4 got off to a bit of a rocky start, with too many episodes reducing people to stupidity. But then it started to soar. Any episode was better when Spike was in it. OMG, talk about brilliant. He gets the best lines, and has the most awesome delivery. The Thanksgiving episode and the one where Willow imposes her will, so Buffy and Spike are engaged, had me cracking up nonstop. I'm up to episode 11, and annoyed that I have to wait until Tuesday to watch any more. iTunes doesn't have more than the first two seasons; nor does Hulu. My local Blockbuster only has season 1, the losers. And TheWB.com has me all confused.
Not everything is perfect, of course. I miss Cordelia, and I'm really unhappy Oz is gone for good. Buffy's relationship issues, at this point, are kind of annoying. I mean, how much more perfect can Riley be? Giles seemed better in the library than at home (though I don't love him any less), and I want Xander to stop regressing. He has shown again and again he's not the loser they keep trying to make/keep him, and perhaps it's growing pains, a struggle to fit him into the ever-evolving world, but I hope he outgrows it soon.
It's really fun picking out people I've seen elsewhere, like Paris's boyfriend on Gilmore Girls, and Layla Rourke from Supernatural's episode "Faith," and various and sundry others. I'm happy that I have three and a half more seasons, and I wish I knew someone else who had the disks because it was so much nicer having them all here. This waiting-for-a-disk-for-four-days-over-the-weekend/Netflix thing isn't cutting it for me right now.
I didn't think I'd be interested in seeing Angel, but I have a feeling I'll be so disappointed when I'm done with Buffy that I'll be happy to venture down that road.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Summer of Disappointment: Movies 2008
Every year, I have great anticipation for the summer movies. Not just the blockbusters, but the demo-specific films they think will fill in some gaps (as in, everyone who is not a teenage boy), and sometimes even the indies. When the kids go to Camp Nana, in the past we've always had a movie night. I rushed out with glee to see all the great films I've looked forward to for months, even years.
This year, in that regard, has been a great big bust.
Sure, there've been decent movies. Iron Man stands out as the best of them all. But after that, it's been pretty downhill. Indiana Jones, while fun enough, didn't live up to the hype, and I left the theater very unsatisfied. Kung Fu Panda, Wall*E, and Get Smart earned "great!" votes from me, but none made me want to see them again. And all the rest in between, the ones I wanted to see and haven't yet...Leatherheads, Wanted, Hancock...well, they're not making me feel compelled.
We haven't had a single Camp Nana movie night.
There's still some hope. But even the ones coming up (The Dark Knight, Mummy 3, Tropic Thunder) don't make me bounce in my seat.
Is it me? Is it the circumstances of my summer? Am I bored? Tired? Lazy? Perhaps it's timing. Simply that the subjects of the movies aren't strong enough to draw me away from the entertainment I have here in my house.
Whatever it is, I'm severely disappointed.
I do have to say, however, that Journey to the Center of the Earth is not a disappointment. It's no Pirates or LOTR, but for what it is, it was a lot of fun. The acting was very good. I liked the boy (Josh Hutchinson or something like that) in his previous movie whose name escapes me right now, and the Icelandic actress was talented and beautiful, and of course there was Brendan Fraser.
Long-time readers or people who know me may recall that Brendan Fraser was my firstobsession passion. I could not get enough of him! I rented George of the Jungle! Then he kind of faded away for a while, and there was nothing to feed my obsession passion, and it moved on to Lord of the Rings, which took a lot of energy for a while. But in JttCotE, he was perfect. A kind of geeky, kind of sweet, very clueless guy goes on an adventure and becomes tough and manly and heroic. Totally swoon-worthy.
You do, of course, have to suspend some pretty heavy disbelief, but hey, it's inspired by Jules Verne, and no one disses Jules Verne. The movie is fun and did leave me feeling very satisfied when we left the theater.
So how would you rate this summer movie season?
This year, in that regard, has been a great big bust.
Sure, there've been decent movies. Iron Man stands out as the best of them all. But after that, it's been pretty downhill. Indiana Jones, while fun enough, didn't live up to the hype, and I left the theater very unsatisfied. Kung Fu Panda, Wall*E, and Get Smart earned "great!" votes from me, but none made me want to see them again. And all the rest in between, the ones I wanted to see and haven't yet...Leatherheads, Wanted, Hancock...well, they're not making me feel compelled.
We haven't had a single Camp Nana movie night.
There's still some hope. But even the ones coming up (The Dark Knight, Mummy 3, Tropic Thunder) don't make me bounce in my seat.
Is it me? Is it the circumstances of my summer? Am I bored? Tired? Lazy? Perhaps it's timing. Simply that the subjects of the movies aren't strong enough to draw me away from the entertainment I have here in my house.
Whatever it is, I'm severely disappointed.
I do have to say, however, that Journey to the Center of the Earth is not a disappointment. It's no Pirates or LOTR, but for what it is, it was a lot of fun. The acting was very good. I liked the boy (Josh Hutchinson or something like that) in his previous movie whose name escapes me right now, and the Icelandic actress was talented and beautiful, and of course there was Brendan Fraser.
Long-time readers or people who know me may recall that Brendan Fraser was my first
You do, of course, have to suspend some pretty heavy disbelief, but hey, it's inspired by Jules Verne, and no one disses Jules Verne. The movie is fun and did leave me feeling very satisfied when we left the theater.
So how would you rate this summer movie season?
Monday, July 21, 2008
RENEGADE
I have a new release!
Renegade is totally inspired by Sam and Dean and the Impala and road-tripping and helping people, and it is all about personal fantasy, in the sense that I want to be part of Sam and Dean's world.
Of course, inspiration doesn't mean copying. Jake and Dan are not brothers, they are not demon-hunters, and their relationship is actually pretty simple. The story is less about them than it is about a woman torn between two worthy men. But it's about a lot more than that:
Trex Samuels has lived her life for her best friend, Jake. Her job as an information broker allows her to stay in one place and keep tabs on Jake, who travels the world using his unique gifts to save abducted children. Trex is the closest thing to a home Jake has, and she waits for his infrequent visits that always bring both joy and pain.
Things change, however, when Jake is on the run from the law. This time, he is haunted by his failures, tormented by waking nightmares.
This time, he's brought a partner.
Dan awakens in Trex a new craving, but one that doesn't eliminate the old. When she realizes the men need her, that she has the power to banish their demons--however temporarily--they embark on a journey of sensuality and desperate pleasure. In the end, she not only has the power to heal them, but to set them free.
And only one will come back to her...
Hm. Interesting how I wrote that blurb. One does come back to her, but she has to chase the other one down. The one she really belongs with. Kind of philosophical.
The story includes some dream-sequence menage action, as well as the kind of emotional torment that turns a love scene up a dozen notches. There is also plenty of adventure and a little bit of the paranormal.
You can get a taste of the story on this page, which contains an excerpt of an early scene. I hope you enjoy it!
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Ten-Day Hiatus
Hi! I'm back from my hiatus!
What? You didn't know I was on one?
Whoops.
In truth, I didn't intend to be. I had lots of topics to address over the last ten days, I just couldn't find the time to type them out. Partly because of work. Partly because of total distraction with Number One's slumber party, birthday, and trip. She turned 13 on Thursday, and on Friday she took off with a bunch of strangers.
It all went pretty smoothly, though. I had communicated with, but not met, the People-to-People leader who was in charge of the group. I liked her as soon as we walked into the airport and she approached us, very organized and pleasant and excited. Over the next hour and a half, she gave us reason to be comfortable that she could handle any crisis.
So at 3:15 Saturday morning, Number One called between the airport in Amsterdam and the Friendship Village. She didn't manage to sleep on the plane because her seatmate snored and hocked a lougie every five minutes, and she had a full day of activity ahead of her, but she sounded wide awake and loving being where she was.
We haven't heard from her since.
Which I have no doubt is a good thing. She's probably not homesick, and I know she's keeping busy, probably making tons of new friends. I'm sure it's not that she lost her phone, or broke it, or is lying in a coma in the hospital after losing her ID lanyard in a horrible accident.
Or anything like that.
Ahem.
Anyway, I don't want to pack ten days worth of thoughts into one post, so I'm going to schedule a whole bunch of posts over the next several days, which--BONUS--means I won't have to take the time to post each day!
First up...Renegade!
What? You didn't know I was on one?
Whoops.
In truth, I didn't intend to be. I had lots of topics to address over the last ten days, I just couldn't find the time to type them out. Partly because of work. Partly because of total distraction with Number One's slumber party, birthday, and trip. She turned 13 on Thursday, and on Friday she took off with a bunch of strangers.
It all went pretty smoothly, though. I had communicated with, but not met, the People-to-People leader who was in charge of the group. I liked her as soon as we walked into the airport and she approached us, very organized and pleasant and excited. Over the next hour and a half, she gave us reason to be comfortable that she could handle any crisis.
So at 3:15 Saturday morning, Number One called between the airport in Amsterdam and the Friendship Village. She didn't manage to sleep on the plane because her seatmate snored and hocked a lougie every five minutes, and she had a full day of activity ahead of her, but she sounded wide awake and loving being where she was.
We haven't heard from her since.
Which I have no doubt is a good thing. She's probably not homesick, and I know she's keeping busy, probably making tons of new friends. I'm sure it's not that she lost her phone, or broke it, or is lying in a coma in the hospital after losing her ID lanyard in a horrible accident.
Or anything like that.
Ahem.
Anyway, I don't want to pack ten days worth of thoughts into one post, so I'm going to schedule a whole bunch of posts over the next several days, which--BONUS--means I won't have to take the time to post each day!
First up...Renegade!
Friday, July 11, 2008
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Help, New MeMe, and Winchesters
I've started a new book, and I need some input.
Remember the movie Sweet Home Alabama? Reese Witherspoon wants to marry her rich fiancé but can't until she gets a divorce from her redneck ex. She winds up with the redneck ex.
My book has a certain basis in that premise. The heroine has a past that has come back to threaten her. She dumps the fiancé to protect him and his family but knows she's not safe until she solves the problem, so she goes back to her former flame, who is now a mercenary and the only person she knows who could maybe help her. But the fiancé surprises her and insists on helping. So there are two potential heroes, both of whom defy the labels she has placed on them, both of whom are worthy of her. I don't know who she winds up with yet.
My dilemma is, should I write the book all in her POV (it's third person) or include both heroes' POVs?
Having all three POVs is highly unconventional, even more unconventional than having two heroes in the first place (outside of erotic romance, I suppose, which this book is not). But I think the book would be richer and more emotionally engaging if we saw inside the guys' heads.
So tell me...what would you like to read?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Trish Milburn has started her own meme. Please participate, if you are so inspired!
Famous People Meme — Which famous person in each of the following categories would you like to meet?
Author — My first thought was Jim Butcher, but Trish said JK Rowling and that's a good one, too. Many of my other favorites, I've had the great fortune to have met already.
Movie Actor — Jason Bateman, I think. I still have semi-obsessions with Brendan Fraser, Orlando Bloom, and Joaquin Phoenix, and Jonathan Rhys Myers, but I'm so impressed with Jason's acting, and he seems like the kind of guy who'd sit down and talk to me about writing and acting and the business and stuff, without acting like he's doing me a favor.
TV Actor — Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles, total no-brainer.
Musician/Singer — Jason Manns
Historical Figure — No idea. Maybe Laura Ingalls.
Fictional Book Character — Harry Dresden
Fictional Movie or TV Character — Sam and Dean (from Supernatural, of course)! And also Derek Reese from Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some of my "friends" have been successfully keeping me (among other people) away from my writing challenge with Winchester videos. As a result, I find Winchester vids peppering the blogs I read. I might as well join in! Here's one of my favorites:
Remember the movie Sweet Home Alabama? Reese Witherspoon wants to marry her rich fiancé but can't until she gets a divorce from her redneck ex. She winds up with the redneck ex.
My book has a certain basis in that premise. The heroine has a past that has come back to threaten her. She dumps the fiancé to protect him and his family but knows she's not safe until she solves the problem, so she goes back to her former flame, who is now a mercenary and the only person she knows who could maybe help her. But the fiancé surprises her and insists on helping. So there are two potential heroes, both of whom defy the labels she has placed on them, both of whom are worthy of her. I don't know who she winds up with yet.
My dilemma is, should I write the book all in her POV (it's third person) or include both heroes' POVs?
Having all three POVs is highly unconventional, even more unconventional than having two heroes in the first place (outside of erotic romance, I suppose, which this book is not). But I think the book would be richer and more emotionally engaging if we saw inside the guys' heads.
So tell me...what would you like to read?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Trish Milburn has started her own meme. Please participate, if you are so inspired!
Famous People Meme — Which famous person in each of the following categories would you like to meet?
Author — My first thought was Jim Butcher, but Trish said JK Rowling and that's a good one, too. Many of my other favorites, I've had the great fortune to have met already.
Movie Actor — Jason Bateman, I think. I still have semi-obsessions with Brendan Fraser, Orlando Bloom, and Joaquin Phoenix, and Jonathan Rhys Myers, but I'm so impressed with Jason's acting, and he seems like the kind of guy who'd sit down and talk to me about writing and acting and the business and stuff, without acting like he's doing me a favor.
TV Actor — Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles, total no-brainer.
Musician/Singer — Jason Manns
Historical Figure — No idea. Maybe Laura Ingalls.
Fictional Book Character — Harry Dresden
Fictional Movie or TV Character — Sam and Dean (from Supernatural, of course)! And also Derek Reese from Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some of my "friends" have been successfully keeping me (among other people) away from my writing challenge with Winchester videos. As a result, I find Winchester vids peppering the blogs I read. I might as well join in! Here's one of my favorites:
Monday, July 07, 2008
The Great Wii Backfire
In a semi-desperate bid to increase my family's activity level, especially the kids', I ordered a Wii last week. The package had the Wii Sports, of course, plus a stupid Smash Brothers game. I ordered a pro soccer game and carnival games to go with everything. The Wii Fit is still on my radar but still not available anywhere.
I'm sure it surprises no one that the Wii is a big hit all the way around. J hooked it up for the kids on Friday while I was indisposed. Once I felt better I did one game of bowling, two rounds of tennis (best of five), and two boxing matches (KO'd, both times). That little bit gave me a raging shoulder/neckache. And the other three spent HOURS over the long weekend playing. All three of them have been very, very sore.
Number One got left by Number Two mid-tennis match, so Number One played against herself. She won. She found it to be so much fun that she played baseball against herself, too, pitching with one hand and hitting with the other. It's kind of hilarious.
Number Two is the boxing champ. She's ferocious. I'm at level 0. She's nearly at 400.
Unfortunately, the kids are drawn to playing but have been trying to rest their aching muscles, which has led them to discover that Hey! They don't need to stand up to play tennis! They can lie on their backs and flick their wrists!
Not exactly what I was going for.
I'm sure it surprises no one that the Wii is a big hit all the way around. J hooked it up for the kids on Friday while I was indisposed. Once I felt better I did one game of bowling, two rounds of tennis (best of five), and two boxing matches (KO'd, both times). That little bit gave me a raging shoulder/neckache. And the other three spent HOURS over the long weekend playing. All three of them have been very, very sore.
Number One got left by Number Two mid-tennis match, so Number One played against herself. She won. She found it to be so much fun that she played baseball against herself, too, pitching with one hand and hitting with the other. It's kind of hilarious.
Number Two is the boxing champ. She's ferocious. I'm at level 0. She's nearly at 400.
Unfortunately, the kids are drawn to playing but have been trying to rest their aching muscles, which has led them to discover that Hey! They don't need to stand up to play tennis! They can lie on their backs and flick their wrists!
Not exactly what I was going for.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
What You Don't Want to Know
I have a friend who doesn't talk about personal stuff on her blog. I mean, she rants about typical family stuff (shut off the damn lights, pick up your sh**) and personal feelings about the writing industry. And she puts on a really good show. But even if you think you know a lot about her, you don't know a lot about her. I admire that, deeply. Because if I were more like her...
...I wouldn't post about how this week was not so fantastic as last week, primarily because I was sick for two days and spent most of today in the ER.
...I would not post about pain so bad I should have another baby making demands right now.
...I would not post about Number Two telling me "Too Much Information" when I explained about the procedure I'll be having on Tuesday. Yeah, the one with the camera going where no camera should ever have to go. (Even the most common expressions are funnier when they come out of a nine-year-old's mouth.)
I guess that's enough stuff I shouldn't be posting about.
To all those who may ask, I seem to be fine. The ER trip was one of those pointless ones where you find out you're not about to die but virtually nothing else. I'm a little anemic. Apparently not enough to worry about at the moment.
Anyway.
I haven't read through Fight or Flight yet, and a I have a new proofing job this weekend, but I did manage to get some files set up for my challenge next week, so it wasn't a total loss.
I don't know if I mentioned the challenge yet. A group of friends--stay-at-home writers like me--has agreed to challenge each other weekly to help keep us on track this summer. We get points for writing new stuff or editing old stuff, and the person with the most points after the five-day period wins for the week. And we'll all go out to a fancy dinner at the end, provided we have at least tried to meet the challenge. Which we will. We're a group so dedicated we don't really need the challenge.
So, I suppose I should say Happy Independence Day to all my fellow Americans. I kind of forgot it was a holiday, given the circumstances, but we did manage to set off a few legal fireworks in the driveway after dark. I hope you all celebrated appropriately and will enjoy the rest of your long weekend.
And I promise not to describe my Tuesday.
...I wouldn't post about how this week was not so fantastic as last week, primarily because I was sick for two days and spent most of today in the ER.
...I would not post about pain so bad I should have another baby making demands right now.
...I would not post about Number Two telling me "Too Much Information" when I explained about the procedure I'll be having on Tuesday. Yeah, the one with the camera going where no camera should ever have to go. (Even the most common expressions are funnier when they come out of a nine-year-old's mouth.)
I guess that's enough stuff I shouldn't be posting about.
To all those who may ask, I seem to be fine. The ER trip was one of those pointless ones where you find out you're not about to die but virtually nothing else. I'm a little anemic. Apparently not enough to worry about at the moment.
Anyway.
I haven't read through Fight or Flight yet, and a I have a new proofing job this weekend, but I did manage to get some files set up for my challenge next week, so it wasn't a total loss.
I don't know if I mentioned the challenge yet. A group of friends--stay-at-home writers like me--has agreed to challenge each other weekly to help keep us on track this summer. We get points for writing new stuff or editing old stuff, and the person with the most points after the five-day period wins for the week. And we'll all go out to a fancy dinner at the end, provided we have at least tried to meet the challenge. Which we will. We're a group so dedicated we don't really need the challenge.
So, I suppose I should say Happy Independence Day to all my fellow Americans. I kind of forgot it was a holiday, given the circumstances, but we did manage to set off a few legal fireworks in the driveway after dark. I hope you all celebrated appropriately and will enjoy the rest of your long weekend.
And I promise not to describe my Tuesday.
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