How to Build Narrative Tension...Or, Damn You, Sera Gamble!

Sera Gamble is very clever.

Executive story editor for Supernatural and Kripke's right arm, she's well known for killing off our most beloved secondary characters--and heck, even some of our primary ones. We hate her for it, even as we love the story she's taken such a large role in shaping.

But that propensity ratcheted up the tension in last night's episode to 11. None of us would ever put killing Rufus, Jo, or even Ellen past her. So every minute they were under fire, I expected them to take a bullet. When Sam and Dean finally confronted War and Ellen was fighting off that military guy (hey, wasn't he kinda cute?) with the knife at the base of her throat...well, in most movies or shows, she'd have gotten that last-second reprieve. But this show doesn't do that most of the time. Believing it could makes for a far more engrossing show, and when it doesn't happen, the relief that much sweeter.

That aside...

I can't watch this show with Number One anymore, not if I want to stop feeling slow. Not stupid, because I was coming around to the amulet, and if I hadn't been so busy lusting over the car I would have instantly known one of the horsemen was there, and I did notice the lack of effects with the knife immediately. But she's calling them much faster, most of the time.

I think my favorite part was Castiel in the beginning. His passion and fire was beautiful. He's not technically working for anyone, including God, but his belief has been fully restored. Since he's been cut off from heaven, he's more connected to humanity and emotion--but still doesn't have a sense of humor. "God is not on a flatbread."

No, wait, my favorite part was the music. It's like the Impala was off the show for almost a full season, and now it's front and center. LOL The music in the actual show, not just the recap, made it feel whole for the first time since season 2.

Bobby's depression and anger are heartbreaking. I didn't think anything could faze him, and I hope he pulls himself out of it quickly. I'd rather see a butt-kicking wheelchair Bobby than a self-pitying one.

Speaking of self-pity...

I also hope next week signifies rock bottom for the boys, and things start going up from there. I have no complaints about the way things have gone so far. But the addiction thread can be resolved now--all connections to reality aside, I'm done with it. I don't watch this show for reality. Sam can stop using "what's inside him" as a scapegoat, take control of his own actions and strengths, and forgive himself so he can realize his full heroic potential.

Same goes for Dean. I don't think he's being a dick for no good reason, and it doesn't make me mad that he's acting that way. He's carrying a shitload of guilt (and, yes, therefore, self-pity). He broke the first seal. He didn't stop the last one. He didn't save Sammy, who turned on him. The hardest thing Dean is going to have to do is let go of Sam. Not as his brother, but as someone he is responsible for. Like any parent, he can't stop Sam from making bad choices. Hopefully, without Dean's tight hold to struggle against, Sam will stop making them.

Once Dean and Sam can stop wallowing in their weaknesses, they can go shoulder to shoulder to take on heaven and hell to save earth. Full partners, the way we've always wanted them to be!

Oh, here's something else cool (besides the symbols all over Dean's ribs! how awesome is that?!)--the Buddy TV recapper noticed that the guy who played War was Jacob's antagonist on last season's LOST finale. And Jacob, of course, was played by Mark Pellegrino, the actor now playing Lucifer's host. I wonder if they went after him on purpose, or if it's all coincidence.

I also wonder about the rest of the Horsemen. Will War have a different body next time, since he was emulating one of the locals? And who will play the others? How will their storylines play out?

I can't wait to find out.

Geekdom

I'm totally geeking out.

I love an author who inserts tributes into her books, and tributes to the things I'm obsessive passionate about make me giddy with insidery geekiness.

In the space of a few pages, CE Murphy's latest, Walking Dead, references Star Wars (lightsabers), Supernatural (shotgun loaded with rock salt, holy water in sprinklers*), Firefly (big damn heroes), and The Princess Bride (rodents of [un]usual size).

CE Murphy is so cool. (And powerful. I wasn't allowed to say "My hair was doing its Hermione Granger impression" in one of my books, and hers is peppered with pop culture--even some things I have to look up!)

*Salt and holy water are standards in mythology, so it's likely she came up with these before the SPN writers did. It still feels like a tribute. :)
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I paused in reading to write the above, and planned to leave it at that. But I loved the book so much that my geeking out made me not pay attention to what I was reading, so I decided to write more.

Generally speaking, I don't want to be the next anybody. I have my own voice and my own style, and I want people to chomp at the bit to get the new Natalie J. Damschroder book because it's not like anything else they read. But there are a couple of authors I want to emulate. I want to make readers feel the way I feel when I read them. CE Murphy is one.

Though I have a lot of friends who are authors, she's not one of them. She doesn't know me from Adam, but I read her blog. What she says there makes me marvel even more. I'm reading this book, and it's so perfect. The balance of action and introspection, the level of humor, the characterization, the progression of events. Nothing lags or fluctuates.

The thing is, because I read her blog, I know this book didn't start out this way. Most of her books, she talks about rewriting a third or two thirds of the original. Her agent gives her revisions, then her editor gives her revisions, sometimes twice. She works really hard. But it's skill that makes her hard work result in such a good book. I thrill to it as a reader, and I'm challenged as a writer to achieve her level, eventually. The little bud of despair that I might never make it? I refuse to water it or offer it any sunlight.

So that's all. Now I'm going to debate myself over spending the rest of my time in the auto service waiting room reading this awesome book, or writing my own.

Triumphs and Frustrations

Today was loaded with triumphs and frustrations.

I spent the entire--and I mean ENTIRE day working on the kids' computers. They had a .NET problem for the past year that I've tried to fix intermittently, but never could get working right.

Triumph
Today I found the right utility and got that taken care of on both computers. That enabled me to load service pack 2 on both, so they're fully updated now.

Frustration
Number One's computer is having major problems, though. I bought Registry Mechanic and ran that, hoping the startup problems it detected would solve the issue, but it didn't.

Triumph
I researched the problem, and many similar issues seemed to be solved by replacing the PSU (power supply unit). So I went and bought a PSU and swapped them out. That's the triumph. I'm always proud of my success at techie stuff like that. But it's marred by...

Frustration
It still didn't solve the problem. So I'm going to have to take the computer to someone, unless one of my super-smart blog readers can tell me what is probably wrong when the computer turns on but won't boot up--the power button stays orange and everything has power, especially the fan, which revs to jet engine levels. We power it down, then try again. And again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again. And then one more time. And then it boots, and is fine. Until we shut down or restart, and go through it all over again.

Triumph
My iPod case broke this weekend. It was nothing special, just a slip-in case that came with my iPod Photo years ago, and I use it for my iPod Classic now. But the clip came off, and since I primarily use the iPod when I'm working out or grocery shopping, I MUST have a clip.

So at Staples I also bought a new case. And while I was at it, I grabbed some new earbuds, as the old ones were getting grody (a novelty, since they usually crap out before then). The case is leather and has windows, so I never have to take the iPod out again, and the earbuds slipped divinely into my ears and stayed there without wedging or compressing, which means they won't hurt even when I do an hour on the treadmill or a marathon shopping session.

The even bigger triumph? I saved 9 bucks with my toner recycling rewards. \o/

Your turn. Any triumphs or frustrations today?

Nature Wins Out

I'm a pretty self-aware person. I think it comes, in part, from being a writer, and having to dig deep into what makes people who they are. But there are some fundamental things I know about myself:

1. I need 8 hours of sleep a night.

2. I am required to get up at 6:20 a.m. on weekdays, and sometimes even earlier on weekends with away soccer games that the bleeping officials set for first thing in the morning even though we have to travel nearly 2 hours to get there.

3. I am not a morning person. It's difficult to struggle out of bed any day, never mind when I'm operating on too-little sleep.

I've known these things for a very long time. Before my kids started school. Before I had a 45-minute commute to an early day job. Before I scheduled 8:30 classes in college (frosh mistake--I hate being a cliché!). So why is it such a challenge for me? Simple equation:

Bed at 10:00 + Up at 6:20 = full complement of sleep = happy Natalie

But there are a couple of other factors that trump this self-awareness and solid logic. I'm not only not a morning person, I'm very much a night person. My body tries very, very hard to follow its preferred pattern: Stay up until 3:00 a.m., sleep until 11:00 a.m., repeat cycle. Some nights this summer I was up until 4 or even 4:30, and it was easy. I wasn't tired! Not at any point during the day!

Yes, some of it is a matter of training. If I force myself to go to bed at 10:00 or 11:00, I can maintain the week with no trouble. So far, I haven't been able to make that happen. The problem is work.

Any of you who freelance or work for yourselves know that one of the drawbacks is constant availability. It's okay if I don't do this data entry while the kids are at school, because I can do it after they go to bed. I'll critique this friend's manuscript over the weekend, which will let me work on my own book Monday...until the proofing jobs come in, pushing the writing back to after the football game. That kind of thing.

So what happens is I come back down to my office after the kids are in bed, and that's it. I keep working and working until it's stupid time, then I need unwinding time (pleasure reading, and--an unfortunate side effect--a snack, because it's been 5 or 6 hours since dinner and my stomach is growling).

It wouldn't be so difficult if I got progressively tired. But I don't. I'm at my most tired between 3 and 7 in the afternoon/evening. But I have to push through, because of after-school stuff and soccer practices and meetings and school events and kids' bedtime activities. Then I have my second wind, and if I'm not tired, I should be productive!

Then the alarm goes off at 6:00 a.m., and I want to stab somebody in the head for being such an idiot.

After three solid years of this with no real change, I've come to decide that imposition of a "smart" pattern is impossible. Nature is winning, and all I can do is hold on until the kids are both old enough to not need me, and then I can follow my own pattern...for the rest of my life, if I'm lucky.

I know Mary either has the opposite nature or has greater control over her natural rhythms (as evidenced by daily 4:00 a.m. blog posts). How about the rest of you?

Let's Not Do That Again, M'Kay?

I felt like I was watching the Browns.

But kudos to Stephen Gostkowski for being unafraid to dig around another man's crotch to secure a fumbled football. That takes a real man! LOL

Boo to the media for being too afraid to post a picture of the recovery. This will have to do, until I'm told to take it down:

Photo by Jim Davis, Boston Globe

Are You Ready for Some Footbaaaaaall?

see more Lolcats and funny pictures


I know, the NFL officially kicked off last Thursday, and most of the games were played yesterday, but my team plays tonight, so THIS is the kickoff of MY football season.

Yeah, like any of you care.

BEST. EPISODE. EVAR.

An hour and a half ago, my husband went up to bed. I said I'd be up shortly. He said, "see you at 1." Well, look at that. He's prescient.

I've spent the last hour reading some discussions of the announced closing of Quartet Press. I'm exasperatedly amused by people. I am still quite uncertain of what ACTUALLY happened, and while I've speculated, my ideas haven't been in the same realm of other people's. I mean, people who've never started a business yet assume that it's so easy to figure out every single possible startup cost BEFORE you announce the formation of your business. People who really don't know what a business plan is who assume that "certain costs didn't line up with projections" means "we never bothered to create a business plan." Sheesh.

And hey, how about those people who are blasting us 7 authors who contracted with Quartet for getting what we deserved, taking a chance on a startup? Uh, sorry, I knew exactly what I was doing, and I'm not harmed in the slightest by this development. Disappointed, yes. "Destroyed," no. You know what I get? Reversion of rights on a book that is now 1,000% better than it was a month ago.

Here's a point: Many authors pay hundreds for the free editorial I just got, and now I can submit this book elsewhere if I so choose.

Then there are those who are scoffing at all the "hype" and taking the closing to mean the people involved in Quartet AREN'T smart, savvy businesspeople. Well, maybe they're not. I'm not in a position to say. But the "hype" wasn't hype, it was buzz, and everyone was watching to see what would happen, not predicting the saviors of digital publishing, for cripe's sake.

Anyway. That's really not what I was going to post about.

*takes off author hat*

*puts on fangirl hat*

OMG. There is so much joy in me over tonight's (last night's, but I haven't gone to bed yet) episode of Supernatural. It gushed all over my keyboard earlier. Now I'm tired, so it's just a bloat of joy instead of a geyser.

I knew immediately, with "The Road So Far," that this season was going to be AWESOME. AC/DC, the fast-moving clips--it said, "Please keep hands and feet inside the car at all times. Fasten your seatbelts, hold on, and enjoy the ride!"

And then it flung us out into space.

The size and sound of Lucifer's rise. The boys appearing in an airplane, then just missing the burst from the convent. It was disorienting to see them suddenly in a car, NOT the Impala, but it wasn't choppy editing, it was symbolic of how they had to be feeling.

Then Dean slams a bloody hand on the door and sends the angels soaring. Like, WHOA. I tried to figure out when he did that, but we only saw him turn away from Sam and Chuck. Speaking of, OW, but *laughs*.

Then the continuity, OHHHH, the continuity! Dean had been at Bobby's when the angels took him, so that's where the Impala was, so of course Bobby brings the Impala to them. And of course a demon follows and rides him inside. Number One totally called his possession. She flat out didn't believe he'd say those things to Sam. But I hesitated to guess that, because I guessed it at the end of last season, when he questioned if they should just let Sam out to do what he was capable of doing.

Then came the biggest gasp. I expected Bobby to knife the demon behind him, but himself? No one can ever say now that Bobby is not teh awesome.

The whole sword of Michael thing was so cool, too, how they tricked Dean into going there, and upped the stakes over and over, but Dean just kept saying no, and then CASTIEL.

We had some debate over what happened there. I first thought "Ha, Michael doesn't want that meat suit, Zachariah!" but as soon as Castiel started talking (after his badass fight--so much better than his fights last season), I thought "geez, no, that's god getting involved there." One of my friends doesn't trust him, thinks maybe Lucifer put him back together and got him involved, mainly because he was knifing angels. Or she thinks Michael. But I thought Zachariah was far too certain that Michael would just dive right into Dean as soon as he allowed it. Seems like he had to have been guided by Michael in that. I could be wrong, he could just be assuming Michael would take his place at the head of the army. So I'm thinking maybe Gabriel is the one who put Castiel back together and sent him in there. After all, he was knifing angels who'd defied God's will, who had actually stopped believing God was "in charge" anymore. If Anna had a death sentence for a bit of doubt and longing for emotion, and Lucifer was imprisoned for siding with the angels over humanity, then these guys actually got off easily.

So I'm reserving judgment on Castiel.

I saw the clip with the fangirl, so my delight over her was diminished due to repetition, but we giggled over her fanfic and her Galaxy Quest-esque reaction to Chuck's call. How many wanted to be her, feeling up Sam's chest? Show of hands. *raises hand* And how many wanted to comfort Dean and assure him we love him just the way he is? Show of hands. *raises hand*

We returned to teh awesomeness of Bobby back at the hospital, when he roared at the doctor over his caution that he might not walk again. Dean's speech in the hospital room was great, especially the GED/attitude line.

I loved the entire show so much, even though I knew I should be sad at the ending, I couldn't stop smiling. Partly because I know this is pretty much rock bottom for the brothers, and they'll be going up--maybe not directly from here, but it can't take too long for the healing to begin. I mean, Sam made some very poor decisions and let himself be manipulated, but his intentions were always, always good, and you can't argue with the fact that he did save lives. In the big picture, I can't condemn him.

Of course, Dean's pain doesn't come from the big picture. It can't. He's just as culpable. He was pushed to it, manipulated exactly the same (well, okay, not exactly) by Alistair into breaking the first seal. If he hadn't done that, Sam never would have been able to break the last one. So they have to be considered equal there. (I kept waiting for Dean to confess. I don't think he ever really did last season, so I'm not sure if Sam and Bobby know he started things off.)

Anyway, Dean's pain and his lack of trust don't stem from the end result of Sam's journey. They stem from that one moment when Sam broke with Dean and chose Ruby over him, almost killed him, in fact. It's completely personal and justified. And he's absolutely right, they can never go back to what they had before. But in the long run, they'll build something new, stronger, healthier, and probably far more worth loving by the fandom.

And that's saying something. :)

IT'S ALMOST TIME

I kept forgetting. I had a meeting today with some other authors, and we talked and talked about everything under the sun. Then I'd remember at random moments...

Tonight is Supernatural!!!!!!!!!!

And I'd feel a squeal of glee.

Now it's half an hour away, and I can't waaaaiiiiiiiiiiitttttttt!!!!!!!!!!!!


Off to make popcorn!

Welcome Guest Blogger MJ Fredrick!

I’ve always written stories to relax, telling myself stories to go to sleep, telling myself stories on road trips, telling myself stories because I liked having a situation I could manipulate to please me. Sometimes it meant having a movie star fall in love with me—yes, I wrote a lot of Mary Sue heroines. I was able to take mental trips to places I couldn’t afford to go, to have adventures I am not brave enough to have.

Never was writing more of an escape than the summer I started writing Beneath the Surface. I’d ended a terrible school year with the principal from hell. I was ready to give up my teaching certificate if I couldn’t get another job. My grandmother, who I loved with my whole heart, fell and hit her head and was in the hospital that summer. At first everything seemed fine, and she was sent home, but she wouldn’t eat so had to go back into the hospital and eventually into a nursing home and then to hospice.

I spent time every day wherever she was, and I’d come home and write. I wrote about adventure and treasure and lost love reunited. I wrote about pain and sorrow and loss. All the time I wrote, I knew this was the first book of mine my grandmother wouldn’t read, but I wrote, every day, diving into the world of Adrian and Mallory, digging to find their conflict, revealing the love that had only been buried. I could find joy in this world, no matter what bad happened to Adrian and Mallory, I knew they would have a happy ending.

That’s what I tell people who ask me why I love to write and read romance. No matter how bad anything else is, I know I’ll find a happy ending in the pages of a romance.

Here’s the blurb for Beneath the Surface:

In retrospect, perhaps archaeologist Mallory Reeves shouldn’t have delivered the divorce papers to her estranged husband mere weeks before her marriage to another man. She knew seeing Adrian again would stir up memories, but she didn’t expect so many of them to be good, not after the mess they both made three years ago. She also didn’t expect to want to stay at the dig site on the Yucatan Peninsula. But the lure of the ancient ship and, yes, her sexy ex provide more of a draw than the white picket fence she thought she wanted.

Marine archaeologist Adrian Reeves has good reason to trust no one. His former partner—and former best friend—made off with his last archaeological find. And his wife left him, frustrated by his obsession for professional revenge. Now both Mallory and his nemesis have returned, and it can’t be an accident that they’ve turned up in the middle of the most important excavation of his career. Seeing her again unearths old pain—and rekindles never-forgotten desire. Now he has to decide if he can trust Mallory again. More importantly, if he can trust himself with her.

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Thanks, MJ, for guesting here today! I can't wait to read BTS!

Or is it EVP?

I had a weird moment the other night. I was getting into bed, and the "in use" indicator on the telephone on my nightstand was flashing. It was, like, one in the morning, so there was no reason for that. I picked up the phone, and the screen said "line in use." Trepidatiously, I hit the "on" button. Static. And then an electronic noise similar to a fax machine, but not exactly like a fax machine. I turned the phone off and then on, and it was gone.

"This is how every paranormal horror movie starts," I thought.

But then I figured it out. The TiVo/DVR was probably calling in for updates. That had to be it.

Right?

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I have a deficiency of book discussion on this blog, and I harbor a fairly high level of guilt about it. I'm so afraid I'll miss one friend's release or announcement, that I just don't mention any. Ditto when I read books by people I know--I don't want anyone to feel bad that I neglected to post about their book, so I don't post about any reading, most of the time. But there is one surefire way to make absolutely certain I'll post about you and your book--be a guest blogger! :)

So tomorrow I'll be thrilled to host MJ Fredrick, author of Hot Shot, Where There's Smoke, and last week's release, Beneath the Surface. She'll be talking about writing as escape, so don't miss it!

Cohesive Fail

I can't seem to post a single-topic post this week. *shrugs*

I'm doing some Facebook catching up right now, and this appears a lot:

" No one should die because they cannot afford health care, and no one should go broke because they get sick. If you agree, please post this as your status for the rest of the day."

At first, who posted it made sense. The first three or four were authors, and we're a small world. But then I saw Christopher Lennertz, a composer (video games, movies, and SUPERNATURAL), who is very much not in the same world. Kinda cool.

I don't care how many people tell us technology is distancing us from each other, I keep seeing more and more ways it's doing the opposite.

~~~~~~~~~~~

So today Number One was telling me about this story she's reading in English. She gives a little rundown of the story, and says as she read, first thing she thought was "The Benders!" I said, "Ray Bradbury, The Most Dangerous Game" and she was floored that I knew what she was talking about. *snort* Kids.

(But srsly, as good as Bradbury is, and as teachable as that story is, why does generation after generation get taught the same musty old literature? How about some contemporary stuff that comments on the human condition NOW? Mix it up a little, people.)

~~~~~~~~~~~

Productive day today. Cleaned my office (whoa, there's carpet in here!) and did my filing, which necessitated spreading the foot-tall pile over the pool table. To-do list is decimated. Not really smaller, but it was a good day.

Now I'm off to watch some Supernatural season 4 DVD bonus features and write an analysis for Supernatural Sisters! Check it out. After midnight. Central time.

Night!

First Week of School Annoyances

1. Teachers who have typos or errors in their course descriptions. "Everyday" is an adjective. And yes, I made proofreading marks on half of Number One's papers I had to sign.

2. Parents who ignore the rules, particularly pertaining to drop-offs. The ones who stop dead center in front of the walk to the main doors instead of pulling up so five more cars can fit and drop kids at the same time are irritating. What, their preshus babays can't walk 15 more feet?! But worse are the ones who stop in the passing lane because they don't want to wait their friggin' turn. They hold up the flow of traffic, endanger their kids, and risk fender benders. Morons.

3. Time speeding by at three times the speed it did in the summer, so I only seem to get a third as much done, despite being alone with no interruptions (except Tracy)!

4. The need to eat. I'm trying to work on my book, and my growling stomach is totally distracting.

5. People who post answers on loops several days after ten other people already posted the same answers. I admit I learned the hard way, but I read all my mail before I answer it, because other people's time is valuable and I don't want to look like a moron.

6. Not getting e-mails back when I want them. This one is totally internal because I don't expect everyone to work on my timetable. That would be obnoxious. Still, it would be nice to get the ones I'm waiting for now, instead of in half an hour when I'll be deep in an escape scene (or, even better, the last few pages of the book!) and will be compelled to break the flow to address the issues related to the e-mail. (I have problems leaving things hanging.)

7. All the Supernatural stuff flowing around me. I gave in and watched a clip, and it didn't ease my gnawing need for the show, it made it worse. And reminded me there are tons of reports out there from Vancouver, and I don't have time to go find them and read them, but the addiction is giving me the shakes. September 10th is toooo far away!

8. Computers that need serious maintenance when I don't have time to do it! (Not mine, knock wood).


Not everything is annoying. I am alone, so I can work guilt-free. The inevitable bus issues on Monday were quickly worked out, and even Number One's horrible first day was eradicated by how well the second day went. Our evenings are busy, but not to the level of hectic, and tonight I have virtually no obligations. Looking forward to weekend activities and not even minding the school schedule that gives us a four-day weekend.

Now, if I could just get through this to-do list...

Hit and Run

I have a ton of stuff to fill the rest of my day (contest judging, website proofreading, text rewriting, novel revising) but I was just catching up on e-mail. I looked at the "33 of 44" on the bottom, all 11 of which came in as I was answering earlier ones, so I don't know what they are or who they're from. There's such a feeling of anticipation, because any of those could bring good news, something exciting, or a lovely compliment.

Of course, they could also be spam from "threateninggoat.com" asking if I'm looking for the Fountain of Youth.

Does anyone else feel that way when they're checking e-mail, or am I just weird?

Uh-Oh

Last year sometime, we bought a Wii, partly because it's cool and everyone has one, partly because it's more active than watching TV. We have a few games, but some of them are either too sedentary, or the family pretends they are. And Wii Sports can only go so far before you get bored, you know?

So this week we went and got Wii Sports Resort. And OMG.

1. I killed 2 hours today playing. What? Deadline? Yeah, I'm on track. Just have a little bit more to do today. What do you mean it's not today anymore?!

2. To use another definition of the verb, I kill at swordfighting. Not the platform. And not the speed slicing, though I love that. J just has faster reflexes than I do (but not faster than Number Two). No, I slice through my opponents on the swordmaster one like they're butter. My level is over 500 already, and I just started today.

3. While I suck rotten ostrich eggs at anything to do with frisbees and am only passable at basketball and archery, I am a MASTER at wakeboarding. Okay, not Master with a capital M. I'm 52 points behind Number Two. But it was gratifying to beat J at it after he slaughtered me on frisbee golf. It told me to give up. Srsly!

4. My right arm is going to fall off. It aches right now, shoulder to elbow, and it's that kind of crampy, deep-seated ache you know will mean when I get up in the morning it won't move. And if I force it, you'll hear the screams in Transylvania.

5. I wonder how good I am at left-handed swordfighting?

Sunday Stuff

Dream Update:

Last night I was an intern working for editor Fred Kirsch of Patriots Football Weekly only his office wasn't in Gillette Stadium in Foxboro, Massachusetts, it was at the beach in South Carolina. He had three turtles in his jacuzzi bathtub.

But the horrible/weird part was that I was driving on a big bridge high over deep water and saw a school bus flip sideways off the bridge. Something else happened that sidetracked me before I could do anything, so later I guess my subconscious felt guilty because I saw two other kinds of buses deliberately drive off bridges, and it was apparently in solidarity for two drivers who had died the week before because of negligent maintenance or something.

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The booksigning went really well yesterday. Because I'm not as good as some of my fellow authors (not the ones at the event) at total pushiness and forcing my books on people who clearly don't have an interest, I only sold one. We had fairly steady walk-through, though, and altogether they took in enough to donate $500 to the Lebanon Library, so that was worth it.

I barely got home alive, though, I was so tired (despite getting enough sleep all week, it's clearly not quality sleep). I dozed off on the couch for the 45 minutes before I had to take Number One and her friend to the movies, and while I did, Frisbee dozed with me.



After, of course, kneading my face along with the pillow and grooming my hairstyle into one more to her liking:



The Time-Traveler's Wife was pretty good. (Mild Spoilers)

I haven't read the book, but I bet it's better. The movie had weaknesses--part of it jumped from one unimportant travel to another, and even the "important" scenes felt short and episodic. There were allusions to things that made him travel, like alcohol and being in a TV store. These allusions were contradictory to the visual evidence that he was mostly passive in the whole thing. There were a lot of unanswered questions. He had a genetic anomaly that he could pass on to a child, but where did he get it?

There were strengths, too, mostly between Henry and Clare. When they first meet as adults, it's hot. I adore Rachel McAdams, and she did a great job. I loved that even when traveling caused big problems, Henry never apologized. It wasn't his fault, and he couldn't control it. Other than his frequent absences, though, there was a dearth of meat until the pregnancy issues started. I wanted more with Dr. Kendrick, more of the science of it, more showing of how he got to be the sophisticated, wordly man who first appeared to Clare when she was 6, instead of the helpless one she meets as an adult. It's hard to pack all that into a movie, and what they did pack in was good enough to make me cry.

Warning for those like me who hate to be blindsided:

This is not a feel-good movie. Though, at least, probably most of us guess that going in.

We saw a preview for The Blind Side, I think it's called, where Sandra Bullock plays a real-life rich mom who takes in a very underprivileged boy. The damn TRAILER made me tear up! This one will undoubtedly be feel-good, at the end.

Two weeks left of summer. Two weeks left on my two deadlines. I'd better get to work.

I Can't Help Myself...

I'm seeing a lot of mini-blogging about this.

Nutshell: A woman was raped in a hotel parking garage at gunpoint in front of her children, with the rapist threatening their lives. There is little more horrifying than that. Her rapist was captured, prosecuted, and sentenced. Though that's more justice than a lot of women get, I doubt it went very far toward her recovery.

The woman then filed a lawsuit against the Marriott, claiming they knew the rapist was hanging around and did nothing.

The gist of the Twitters and Facebook status outrage is that the Marriott defense, in part, says she failed to exercise due care, interpreted by the public as blaming her for her own rape.

That's unconscionable, but it's the LAWYERS who are doing that. The LAWYERS are the soulless, unfeeling freaks who would apply standard response language (according to other lawyers in the comments of the linked article). I say the lawyers are working for Marriott so the defendant should have a say in how the defense is mounted, but someone else said it's in the insurance company's hands, not the hotels, and if there is anyone more soulless and unfeeling than lawyers, it's insurance companies. I mean, we've all got to agree with that, right?

Another detail is that the woman is only suing for $15,000. I don't think this is true. The article says MORE THAN $15,000, and another attorney in the comments said this is also a standard factor in Connecticut law, that they have to prove the case is worth at least that much. Most companies are smart enough to settle a case that's going to make them look bad, so they either got really bad legal advice (by someone seeking a spotlight, maybe?), or they know the case could cost them millions, maybe billions, once it goes to court. It's also possible they are trying to avoid a precedent. If they settle this, how many people are going to come out of the woodwork trying to blame hotels for things that happened in them?

Part of the prosecution argument is that the man was hanging around for days before the rape, that hotel staff saw him, and no one did anything about it.

1. How do they know he was hanging around? If the woman saw him, why didn't she report it?

2. If two separate security people and a staff person all later admitted they saw him but none of them knew others saw him, how would they have known their one spotting was part of a pattern? One person has to see someone multiple times to recognize loitering.

3. Someone in the comments to the article said all security had to do was ask him if he's a guest and if not, kick him off the property.

3a. Yeah, 'cuz he's going to admit that he's not staying in the hotel (and hey, maybe he was--the article doesn't say).
3b. Do people realize how many thousands of people go through a hotel every day? The turnover of guests over a week probably numbers in five digits, PLUS you don't have to be a guest at the hotel to be on the premises--a conference could have hundreds of people attending it who aren't guests of the hotel. I was in the Waldman Park Marriott a few weeks ago for HOURS. I was in the same spot multiple times. I could have gone to my car in the parking garage two or three times during the day. They should have asked me if I was a guest and kicked me off the premises...oh, except I don't think any staff saw me, beyond the server in the restaurant and maybe the bartender in the bar, several hours later.

I am NOT blaming the victim here. What happened to her is horrifying and my heart breaks for her and her children. I totally understand the need to lash out and place blame as part of the healing process. Maybe there WERE things the Marriott staff could have done. I don't think the attorneys were wise in the way they laid out the defense, and I also think they should have just settled and kept it quiet (though if this was filed over a year ago, maybe they tried and she wouldn't).

But I'm not going to assume extreme negligence by the staff based on a few lines in a news story, nor do I think boycotting the company who licensed their name to the hotel will have any impact, though I wouldn't tell anyone not to do it--that's personal principle.

Mini-blogging and our short attention spans/lack of time have given us more opportunities for knee-jerk reactions to bits of information, and this post is my rebellion against that. Feel free to call me names in the comments; I'll feel free to delete them. :)

Disclaimer: The article I'm referencing seems to have its dates wrong. It says the woman filed suit against the hotel in May 2008 and that her rape occurred on October 10, 2008, which is obviously impossible. Therefore, many things in the article could also be wrong, invalidating anything I said.

Craziness

Okay, that's not craziness. It's just an official "Up to Speed" recap reel. But look at the end! Looklooklook! It's the new title card, I think! And I LOVE it.

Interestingly, the background looks very much like the sky in my dream last night (one of them), and that's kind of freaky. Or crazy.

It used to be that when I wasn't writing for long stretches, I'd have these heavy-duty, vivid dreams. Exhausting ones, where I didn't feel like I'd slept at all, like I was doing the stuff in my dreams instead of resting. Once I started writing regularly, though, they subsided back to normal vague random brain-firings.

Not anymore.

Though I've been writing, and very hard, my dreams just seem to be getting worse. This morning I had these two doozies:

First, Number One was trying to fix or change an outlet in her room, but it wasn't going right. She hadn't turned off the breaker for her room, so I went down to do it. When I tried, it caused an EMP above the house. A brilliant white-purple flash of light that coalesced and burst. I did it three times, then tried to turn off the main breaker, which seemed to do fine, except stuff in the house still worked (electrically speaking).

I went outside to see what was over the house, because authorities were showing up. There were swirling clouds and flashing lights (in the dark sky), like the government had sent a satellite over us, and at one point I thought I'd actually signaled aliens.

Then the dream abruptly changed. I was back at the beach, though it wasn't Myrtle but somewhere else. I'd gotten separated from J and the kids and was walking on the street just off the beach, talking to some friends. The tide was in, and suddenly a big wave soared in and broke against the sea wall. But it didn't recede, it just covered the beach.

I couldn't reach J by cell phone, he'd forwarded to his work phone, which had a recording that he was out of the office for a week. I kept calling and calling as I wandered the street, looking, terrified that they'd been on the sand. Then the waves kept flowing inland, until I was being pushed forward, like upright bodysurfing. A couple of kids near me said it was so cool, and I said "Yeah, except for the people who drowned." Then my subconscious reprimanded me, because I felt bad for pointing that horrible thing out to them.

I guess at some point J called me, because I was then in my former boss's house while I talked to him. I didn't ask about the kids! But after I got off the phone, I assumed he'd have said if they weren't with him and okay.

I don't remember why, maybe I was pushed under the house by the water and was kind of trapped, but I had to climb up inside the house. After I did, other people showed up, including John Locke, except the way he was acting, I figured it was that other guy from last season's finale (LOST, for those who don't watch it). I saw a guy in a mirror who wasn't really there, but who was, and I scowled and scolded him for being invisible.

Oh, and I'm not sure when it was, but at some point, I was on a residential city street and there was a cat in a tree, and a guy was acting like it was about to fall out, and I was gonna scoff and say it wasn't, because really, that doesn't happen. And then it did, but the woman I was with caught it. I didn't recognize her, but I think it was supposed to be Lori. So if anyone has a white and orange long-haired cat who is prone to treeing itself--it's okay. You can come pick it up during the next REM cycle.

The weird thing about that part (yeah, I know, like the whole thing isn't weird) is that there were food dishes hanging from strings tied to tree branches, and I was like, "do they entice the poor cat up there?" And there was a red plastic curvy slide-type thing, and I think the cat was supposed to slide down it. I realized it was attached to a special truck that looked like a fire truck but was just for rescuing cats. Except no one was manning it, they'd apparently gotten tired of trying and just left the poor cat to fall onto the sidewalk.

So there you have it. A peek inside the insanity of my subconscious.

What did you dream about last night?

Booksigning Saturday!

Waldenbooks Lebanon Valley Mall

10% of the proceeds to benefit the Lebanon Library.

SATURDAY AUGUST 15TH
MULTI AUTHOR BOOKSIGNING
10-11 a.m. discussion panel on how to become an author with a publishing contract with Megan Hart, Savannah Russe, Mindy Klasky, and Maria V. Snyder

11 a.m.-4 p.m. Author Signings

Angela Ginnetto
Romance

Vicky Burkholder
Romance

Victoria Smith
Romance

Misty Simon
Romance and Mystery











Arthur Ford
Local Interest

T.K. Marion
Civil War

Natalie Damschroder
Romance and Erotic Romance

















Brian Keene
Horror

Savannah Russe
Paranormal Romance

Byron N. Morrison
Fantasy

Sandra Asher
Childrens

Charlene Haines
Young Adult

Kelly Ann Butterbaugh
Children’s History

Doris Washington
Poetry

Robert Vogel
Fiction

Dr. Dewey Shaak
Memoir

Richard Curtin
Military fiction

Dr. Laszlo Geder
Memoir

Mindy Klasky
Fiction

Frank Bittinger
Horror

J.F. Gonzalez
Horror

Maria V. Snyder
Fantasy

Joan Landis
Self Help

Megan Hart
Erotic Romance
















Lucy Finn
Romance

Andy Pete
Fantasy

List subject to change without notice

Prize drawings!

Let Me Be Random

I'm ba-ack! Yay.

So I've traveled a lot this summer. Tennessee for a week, Maryland for a soccer game, DC two days in a row for a booksigning and then professional meetings, New York and back, and then Myrtle Beach. The longer trips put us through West Virginia, Virginia, and North Carolina. That's a lot of states in 7 weeks.

What I've found really interesting is that gas prices have been essentially the same everywhere I went, even New York City. I've been amazed by that. Of course, I made that observation, then got home and gas here in Podunkville, PA, is 20 cents a gallon higher than it was yesterday in Myrtle Beach, Ultra-Commercial Vacationville. That's, like, opposite how things usually are.

Most of you probably don't pay attention, but if you look, you'll see this post was put up around 2:30 a.m.-ish. I got up this morning, did some chores, and spent several hours working (both household and professional stuff). I didn't do the four most important things on my list before the family talked me into a movie, and I had to do grocery shopping (yes, I live in the freakin' grocery store!!!). Then I made dinner. I came back and did two of the important things, but it was 10:30 and my brain was fogged, so doing the other two important things would be stupid. They need a sharp brain. So I brainstormed with a friend who's writing proposals for her publisher, and started catching up on blog reading. Which I've just completed (almost), and it inspired me to blog.

But now I feel I wasted four hours of what could have been productive time. It wouldn't have been. Revisions and critiques are a lot harder than reading blogs. Especially when I don't comment.

Then I felt guilty, because Jessica/jade_kadir did a meme that said I was one of the three people she talks to most online, and with vacation and busyness that led to late reading, I've been very silent lately. And Gail/un_conscience said no one seemed interested in her SPN recaps, and I totally am, but never commented on them...ref. vacation and busyness and reading several days after the post went up.

But even when I'm not busy, I don't comment much, on any of the blogs I read. Sometimes it's because I tend to read them late at night, like I did tonight, and that generally means tired brain = can't think of pithy comments. Sometimes I don't even need that excuse, I just don't have anything to contribute. But it doesn't mean the people I'm reading are shouting into the wilderness. I'm always entertained and they are always making a connection, even if they don't know it.

I need to become better about telling them.

I saw two movies this weekend. Friday, while J and Number One saw GI Joe, Number Two and I saw Aliens in the Attic. I was pleasantly surprised. It was funny, and decently acted, and far, far better than, say, the Hannah Montana movie. Today Number Two talked Daddy into seeing that with her, and Number One and I went to (500) Days of Summer. I knew it was one of those typically downer-topiced indies, but I've loved Joseph Gordon-Levitt since Third Rock from the Sun and Zooey Deschanel is decent. I found the movie delightful, because it did three things:

1. Used a non-linear timeline to break up the downer stuff with happy stuff.

2. Made the downer stuff funny, even while it was tragic.

3. Ended on a high note.

So definitely worth the price of a ticket.

The downside to taking vacation at the beginning of August is that when you get back, the month is nearly half gone. I know, the math doesn't compute, we were only gone 8 days, but yeah. I have 22 days to my deadline, and must finish the paid critique before then, too, and the schedule is full of soccer and back-to-school stuff, and if I have time to blog at all, it will probably be at 2:42 a.m. every time.

I know. I can see you wincing. Me, too.

Winding Down

The rest of the week has become a blur. We did the beach the last two days, and it didn't storm, but we all did get a little roasted. I keep lamenting my inability to stay at the beach for an entire day, like we always did when we were kids, but MAN, the sun is so much stronger now. I blame Tiffany Amber-Thiessen and her can of hairspray per episode.

I've changed in other ways, too. When we first got here, I kept scoffing at the beach club pool. I mean, we had the whole friggin' ocean at our feet! But then Wednesday, we rinsed off and swam in the pool before driving back to the resort, and that was actually kind of nice. Soothing, after the action of the waves and the stickiness of the salt and graininess of the sand.

One thing that hasn't changed is my preference for northern beaches. When the water temperature is only five degrees cooler than the air, there's nothing refreshing about it. I don't want to take a bath, I want to cool off from the deadly heat and humidity.

Gah. I sound like such a complainer! I'm at the beach. On vacation. And really, I'm loving it. I just spent so much time at the beach when I was a kid, my brain won't stop making comparisons.

Yesterday we did a banana boat ride. O. M. G. My arms ache like crazy. The ad on the website says all you have to do is hold on! HA. That's all. We were waiting by the water, watching the previous group coming in, and they capsized twice. That freaked out Number Two, and I tried to give her an out, but the boat was there and she said it was too late, so we got on, and she fretted the whole time about getting dumped in the ocean, a mile from shore, and I fretted about her fretting. Other than that, it was FUN. We had one near mishap when we tilted a little too far right and Number One, who was in the front and the most difficult position to hold on to (not to mention, facing the spray), nearly got dumped off. She wound up sprawled across the boat on her stomach. The guy running the Jet Ski pulling the boat was very good, though. He stopped immediately so we could right ourselves, and most of the ride, he hit the waves in the easiest possible way to stay on.

So we're aiming in to shore. I'd told Number Two we wouldn't capsize. Then we're almost there, and a wave tilts us, and Number One tilts left, and so do I, and then she overcompensates and flips us all off to the right. I kicked J pretty hard--couln't help it, he fell on top of me--but thought it was Number Two. I'm searching frantically for her, say, "Where is she?!" to J, and he chuckles.

"She's on the boat."

She was the only one who didn't fall off!

So that was quite an adventure. After hiking in the Myrtle Beach State Park in the morning, doing the boat ride, and battling the choppiest surf yet for a little while, we were pretty beat.

And Number Two STILL wanted to go to the pool last night! She's lucky she has such a game Daddy. Lame-o Mommy would have just sat poolside and read (which I did) and made her swim on her own.

I like dunking in the pool and cooling off (or whatever), but I'm not much into swimming in the pool for very long. The exception is the lazy river, which seems to be all the rage now. They have them everywhere we go. It's totally aimless floating, but since you're going somewhere, it feels like a purpose? I don't know. I just like it. And after Number Two got scolded for floating under her innertube, the guy telling her she was going to get her feet tore up, I had an idea. And guess what? The bottom of a lazy river is an AWESOME exfoliator for heel calluses.

Today's our last day, and we're all sad. We'll do the beach one more time (with the accompanying two more loads of laundry) and Number One talked J into taking her to see GI Joe, so I get to take Number Two to see Aliens in the Attic (yay). We also might go get a picture taken with baby tigers and apes. That one's up in the air.

Then it's the long drive back tomorrow. I won't sigh. Saving up all our points for two years (plus borrowing from next year) allowed us to have two vacations this summer, and I know a lot of people don't even get to do one. We're lucky.

Still...I've got doctor's appointments and soccer practices and meetings and a looming deadline waiting for me when I get home, and I'm just not ready to face that yet.