Romantic Times Convention, 2005 Part One of Who Knows How Many.

Wow. Where to begin? I had the best time, due mainly to one Linnea Sinclair, who looked after me and introduced me to a bunch of other great writers and people. Linnea has always been a huge supporter of my writing (she gave me a blurb for The Silver Spoon) and she's really become a mentor for me, something for which I'm very grateful.

So, okay. RT, as they call it. Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

I arrived in St. Louis a couple of hours later than I expected. After a few heart-pounding moments of "what the hell does that interstate sign mean?," I managed to find my way to the hotel. Unfortunately, I arrived at the hotel at the EXACT moment as the Ellora's Cave tour bus. Ellora's Cave is a growing publisher of erotica. Erotica is exactly what it sounds like, folks, and it's huge, no pun intended, these days. I'm not linking to their site here because I'm not sure what pops up (ha!) and I know some people read this at work. I don't want you to be surprised.

So, I managed to find a small parking space in the hotel turnaround and parked illegally to unload all my stuff. Now, keep in mind most of the conferences/conventions I've been to have been small to medium sized ones. This place was a ZOO from the second I walked in. All the bellmen were unloading the tour bus and the line to check-in was pretty freaking enormous. Not to mention this crazy air of energy just buzzing from person to person. As Linnea would say, and often did when something strange, crazy, messy or generally f*cked up happened, "Welcome to RT."

I finally got my room key--sweating the whole time about my car being towed--and proceeded to make three trips up to my room. I had no idea what to bring for this trip, so I ended up bringing too much. Clothes that I never even unfolded. Books that I never even cracked open. And hello, duh, Stacey, you BROUGHT books?!? Yeah, I know. Dumb, right? It's a book convention. But books are like my security blanket. I don't go anywhere without at least one and preferably three.

My room, which I'll hopefully have pictures of later to show you, was really cool. The Millenium Hotel consists of two towers. I was on the eighth floor in the North tower. So, my room was like, pie-shaped. Narrow at the doorway and circular at the wide end. Very modern looking furniture and a bathroom countertop that lit up! Yes, I am easily fascinated.

I got all my stuff upstairs and took a second to breath. Then I decided to go downstairs and get registered for the convention. I thought, I'm a big girl. I can do this by myself. I work for a big company, I can handle talking to a bunch of strangers.

Uh, yeah, right. See the thing is about RT is that's MASSIVE. Like, 1,000 participants. I left my hotel room went to the lower level to check it out. People were swarming around everywhere, tables filled with freebies and promotional items (hence the term, promo alley) lined the hallway, and not a single person in sight who seemed to be in charge. The inmates had taken over, y'all.

I finally found my way to the registration desk, only in time to see it closing. The website had said they'd be open until seven. The website lied. After pleading a bit and probably looking scared to death, the staff took pity on me and gave me my nametag and bag o'convention stuff (which included free books, of course).

So, there I am, with my little name tag and schedule. And I have no freaking idea what to do next. The only people I knew were people I'd never seen in person before--names from emails or chat groups. Everyone else is milling around me with purpose or at least, with a vague idea of purpose, which is more than I had. So what did I do?

I did what any sensible person would do in that situation.

I high-tailed it back up to my hotel room to curl in the fetal position and wait for it all to be over.

Well, that's almost what happened. I did go back upstairs. But instead of crying, which is pretty much what I felt like doing (I hate that helpless feeling of I don't know what to do or who to talk to, and I'm a naturally shy person [yes, I am!] so I'm not very good at sorting it out on my own), I did something kind of unusual for me. Linnea had given me her cell phone number before I left. I hadn't really intended to call her because I didn't want to be a pest, nor did I want to be that annoying person who you feel compelled to be polite to but you just want to be rid of--you all know someone like that, right? I didn't want to be that person.

But at that point, I was operating in crisis mode. I'd paid several hundred dollars for this convention and even more for the hotel, and I felt like crawling under the covers, eating the snack food I'd brought with me and watching The Simpsons.

But instead, I called Linnea, hoping when she gave me the number that she really meant for me to use it, instead of intending it as a polite gesture. Of course, with my timing, she had just gotten there, so I caught her in the elevator. But she immediately recognized my name and told me to call her back in fifteen minutes when she got to her room...and she called me "doll," I think. I LOVE that. Women with moxie call you doll.

I waited the fifteen minutes and called her back. I told her that I had no idea what I was doing and she was the only person I knew. She immediately told me that she would meet me and we could get a drink and dinner. Of course, we had to laugh when we realized that neither one of us knew what the other looked like.

So, she came to my door and we got to meet face to face for the first time. It's always strange when that happens, particularly when you know someone through their emails or books or both. You may like someone in emails or from their writing, but in person, you just don't click. But it was so NOT like that this time, thank goodness. Linnea's a total hoot--totally reminds me of her characters in some ways. I LOVED hanging out with her. She made me a little braver than I ever thought I would be at this kind of thing. If you haven't read her books, you should. Particularly if you read and liked mine. Finders Keepers is my absolute favorite of all of hers so far, and it was just released by Bantam last week. She's got a free sample chapter up at her site and also at barnesandnoble.com.

She's a petite blonde (shorter even than me) with just a hint of a New Jersey accent. She's also extremely funny and completely outrageous, which made me feel totally comfortable.

I think that's probably enough for one entry...I'll continue tomorrow!

Greetings from MO

I bought internet time to check my email and have some money left in my account. I have no idea if it will eat my money or give me change, but I decided to go ahead try to use some of it by creating a blog entry. RT is crazy, fabulous but crazy. Hey, they give books away for free here!!! I'm taking a break from the masquerade ball. My costume? An author who didn't bring a costume. Heh. In other words, boring black dress.

But I've met all sorts of cool people and I will, of course, be putting together a full entry on it when I get back. Or maybe tomorrow if my money holds out!

Writers are some of the best, nicest people in the world and to quote Forrest Gump, that's about all I have to say about that : )

On my way to St.Louis...

Just a reminder...I'm away for the rest of this week at the Romantic Times Booklover's Convention in St. Louis. Seriously, it's shaping up to be "Convention of Stacey's Favorite Authors." Laurell K. Hamilton, Linnea Sinclair, Kelley Armstrong, Denise Swanson, MaryJanice Davidson, Charlaine Harris, Kim Harrison and probably more than I'm forgetting! The best, and worst, part is that I'll be sitting at a book fair with all of these people. Oh, yeah. Someone's going to stop by my little table when all of THESE people are there!!!

Anyway, I will endeavor to take good notes as it's fun to relay all the wild and somewhat wacky stuff that happens at conventions like these. And this one looks wilder and wackier than the rest...after all, there are romance novel cover models (the male kind) roaming the halls freely, only half-dressed, or so I hear. I plan to watch from a distance...a very safe distance.

The whole idea of this convention is making me feel very much like I'm back in high school. I only know a few people and not very well. I'm worried about finding people to eat with--something I haven't worried about since about my sophomore year of high school. I'm worried about clinging too much to the few people I do know as I don't want to be one of those loser-y people who doesn't know when to leave off or strike off on her own. I'm worried about making an ass of myself in front of these people that I respect. I'm also worried about making no impression at all, since networking is probably half the reason people go to these things. I'm also suffering from a massive inferiority complex--there are some huge names/authors attending this convention. So, take note, any aspiring authors out there--the anxiety doesn't go away once you're published. It just mutates into something equally soul-destroying.

All right. Well. After that pep talk, I think I'm ready to go. : ) Wish me luck with the whole throwing-up-from-nerves thing!

Worst Weekend Ever

The danger, of course, in stating that I've had the worst weekend ever is that I'm offering up the possibility that a worse one will come along, bumping this one up to "not-so-bad."

When I went to bed on Friday, I was looking forward to sleeping in. My husband was out of town, so no one coming in to say, "You're still sleeping? It's 10:30." But no, it was simply not to be. Around 6:45, Saturday morning, I awoke a strange sound. At first, I thought it was just the wind. We live in a new house without many trees, so sometimes, when the wind gets really going, it makes the house creak and rattle. But no. When I listened closely, I determined I was hearing the scampering of little feet, back and forth, and NOT THE GOOD KIND. I jumped right out of bed, totally freaking out. An animal seemed to be running back and forth, right behind my head. Of course, our bed backs up to a wall so...yeah, you know where this is going. I had an undentified type of animal taking up residence in my freaking bedroom wall. Of course, this happens when my husband--males have the gene that allow them to be non-squicked out by such things--is out of town.

I grabbed my pillows and the dogs and headed downstairs. The dogs, by the way, showed absolutely no interest in this creature running merrily back and forth with only an inch or two of drywall between it and me. I began calling animal control people, but of course, no one's working at 6:45 on a Saturday morning. I left messages and finally laid down on the couch to try to get more sleep while endeavoring not to imagine that every little thing I felt was an animal crawling over me. *full body shudder*

Someone called me back at around 9:00 and arranged to come out and have a look, but the earliest time was for Monday, today. I agreed.

Saturday night I slept on the couch. Worst night of sleep. Dogs, confused by our unusual sleeping location, kept pacing the floor. I kept thinking that they were going to pee in a corner or something, thereby making my weekend even worse. They behaved themselves in that regard, but the pacing kept me awake. As most of you know, I'm not a morning person and with little sleep, I'm not a DAY person. Period. So, Sunday I woke up on the wrong side of the couch. A little crabby, a little reactionary. I explain this so you'll understand what remarkable restraint I showed later in the day.

Sunday afternoon, I went to Target--the best store in the whole world--to pick up a few things. When I came back, I found the neighbor children playing in our backyard. Okay, my first impulse was to go out there and tell them to go play in their yard because 1) my property is my liability suit if they get hurt and 2) it's my yard, damnit, and they're being loud. But I resisted, remembering what it was like on the rare occasions that I would play outside as a child. Someone else's yard is always way more interesting than your own. Plus, I didn't want to get the reputation as the mean lady without any kids.

So, I didn't say anything...at first. Then I heard their ball--a softball-sized tennis ball, never seen such a thing before--hit the house. I calmly proceeded to my sliding glass door and asked them nicely to play away from my yard and house. Because at the time I thought, oh, my husband is going to kill somebody if that ball dented the siding. But wait...it gets better.

I went upstairs to finish working on some writing stuff and the phone rang. I went to pick it up in our bedroom--you know the wild animal-infested one?--and saw that one of my bedroom windows is now cracked. Thank you, softball-sized tennis ball. Great. Great. Great.

So I go downstairs and head out across the yard. Keep in mind I've never seen or even met the adults in this house. The first time I'm meeting them is to tell them that their kids broke something of mine. I feel like that crabby old woman who lives across the street from the Scavos on Desperate Housewives. Though, those children are awful...

As I'm walking to their house, I asked the kids, did you hit the window? No, no, we never touched your window, etc. Of course. So, I asked for the mother of the house and got the babysitter instead. I showed her the crack and gave her my name and number and asked her to please have the parent(s) call me when they return.

Of course, it's now more than 24 hours later and I haven't heard from them. *sigh* That means more confrontation. Ick. I hate that. On top of which, the husband is not happy to hear about the window. And I know he won't be as easily turned away, explanation-wise, as I was. So much for a group sing of "Won't you be my neighbor?"

That was my weekend. How was yours?

Valpo Visit, Part III

On Thursday night, after my reading, I went out to dinner with Professor Byrne, Professor Feaster and Professor Uehling. The little pizza place down near the fraternities (a block away from Sig Tau) is now a nice Mexican Italian restaurant. Of course, I was nervous--I get really jittery around authority figures, for some reason, even if they aren't, technically, in authority over me any longer--plus, I was all keyed up after the reading. So, I know I babbled quite a bit. But it was so much fun!

I discovered that Professor Feaster was responsible for my friend Becky's parents meeting. And because Becky is, in turn, responsible for me meeting my husband (actually, we met and then required additional nudging from her!), we all decided that meant Professor Feaster is actually responsible for my marriage. : ) This silly bit of logic is, in fact, true, in a way. But more important than that, it highlights one of my bigger beliefs about life. Everyone and everything is somehow connected. There are no coincidences. Sometimes things happen and there is no reason for it, at least not one you can see right away. Sometimes you never see the reason, but that doesn't mean it's not there. Anyway, enough with the philosophy... : )

Professor Uehling teased me about always being late to class. It's funny because I don't remember being late to things until I started working. But apparently, tardiness has always been part of who I am! He said that Ayesha, a good friend of mine and fellow English major, and I were always scooting in to class about a minute to a minute and half late. Probably right, though I don't remember it specifically. I love that Professor Uehling remembers it and told me about it.

Professor Byrne told me he remembered where I sat in his short story class. That's funny because I didn't think I made much of an impression in that class at all. I loved it but I was really intimidated about sharing my writing. It's neat to hear that people you respect and admire remember you. Especially when they must meet and see so many other people on a daily basis.

After indulging in a fabulous piece of chocolate cake--the icing was at least an inch thick--I returned to my hotel room. I found some bizarre HBO special with Whoopi Goldberg doing some kind of stand up routine about feminine hygiene products, which kept me entertained until I got sleepy.

Next morning, I got up and headed back over to Huegli to go out to lunch with Professor Uehling. We talked about books and Chicago and all the various former English majors we both knew. It only made me miss Valpo even more. Some of my favorite people live there and I just don't visit often enough. I know it wouldn't be the same to live there now as it was when I was a student, but I'm okay with that. I just have such strong feelings for the town, the university and the people. It's my hometown, as much as anyplace ever was, I guess. My family never lived there, but it's pretty much the longest I've ever lived in one place!

After lunch, we returned to Huegli Hall where I met the Kim Bellware, the arts and entertainment editor for the Torch. Professor Byrne had contacted her to let her know about my visit and she set up an interview. We headed over to the new library where she gave me a tour. The building is gorgeous, you guys. Unbelievable. I feel bad that Moellering library is going to be torn down, but it was so dark and old compared to this new place. (Hey, do you ever wonder if the people who donated money for a building on campus a long time ago (like Moellering) get upset when it's demolished to make way for a new building donated by someone else?)

Kim and I had a very nice chat on the terrace upstairs. It was kind of funny to hear my perspective on writing coming from someone else as she summarized what I said. My favorite moment was, after I explained that I get up in the morning to write so I don't have time or energy to talk myself out of doing it because of self-doubt, when she said something like, "So it's like you have to psych yourself out on writing." She said it much more eloquently than that, but it cracked me up because it's true!!! I do have to psych myself out, all the time, because if I let myself start thinking too much, the paralyzing fear and crippling self-doubt (a paraphrase from The O.C.) start creeping in.

After the interview, I headed home, feeling pretty good, actually. I'd been sort of dreaming of this moment from the time I got the contract from RuneStone, and unlike most of my daydreams, reality turned out to be a pretty close match on this one!

Here's a link to an article about my visit that ran on the VU website, if you want to check it out. It's kind of cool to see my name there!

Oh, I forgot! My book is also on the shelves at the Valpo book center! Woo-hoo, it was so cool to see it there. I would loved to have taken a picture of it but didn't have the camera. I followed author protocol, though, and asked them if I could sign the books and they agreed. So signed copies of my book are now on the shelves and for sale at the Valpo bookstore!!!! Plus, I bought a couple new Valpo sweatshirts, which most of you will probably be seeing over and over again. : )

Have a great weekend, everyone.

Valpo Road Trip, Part II

So, running late, of course, I headed out to my car with about five minutes to go before I was due to meet Professor Byrne. I took his short story class in college--the very first time I ever finished a piece of fiction, which was huge for me. He encouraged me, which gave me first real bit of confidence in writing fiction.

Fortunately, Valpo traffic is nothing like Chicago suburbs traffic, so I didn't have any problem making it to campus on time...or pretty close. I used the Eastgate Entrance and took Chapel Drive to get to Huegli so I'd also get a look at the new library. I was a little worried because I've always loved the look of the Chapel and I thought a new building so nearby might spoil it. But no. The new library is gorgeous and it complements the architecture of the Chapel, in my humble, non-expert opinion.

I parked across the street from Huegli, gathered up all my stuff and walked over. Huegli is exactly the same. It still smells like school to me. Paper, old building, dust. Love that smell.
(Tangent: anybody else remember when Ryan Arnold cracked his head open by hitting it on the low ceiling in Huegli hall stairwell?)

I found Professor Byrne's office without any trouble, and we settled in for a nice chat before the event. It was kind of funny. I've been out of school for almost eight years now, but I still got nervous talking with him and, later, my other former professors. They're still so smart. I feel sometimes like I'm actually losing information as I get older instead of gaining it. Plus, I've always respected them, so their opinion of me and the stuff that I'm writing is really important to me.

But talking first with Professor Byrne in that more casual environment really helped me relax a little. He commented on my confidence, how different that was from when I was in his class. I don't remember going through classes as a quiet or shy person, but knowing me, that's probably how it looked. It also occurred to me how much my day job has changed me in that respect...in a good way. I still get nervous talking to people I don't know, but I can do it. I can present my work in front a crowd and talk them through it. In fact, I do it so often (or used to, but that's a whole other story) that I don't even think about it too much anymore. I've learned a lot in the last eight years, I guess, so maybe then I don't feel so bad about losing the other information!

We headed downstairs after a bit, where some students were already waiting. (They served refreshments--big cookies and punch! Remember the big cookies?) I couldn't help commenting quietly to Professor Byrne on how young all the students looked. They're only a couple of years older than my sister! But I don't feel any older than I did when I sat in those very same chairs.

Professor Byrne introduced me to the group of students, and after a few minutes of shyness, they started asking questions. In the background, I could see a few more professors had joined us, which made me a little jumpy. I was afraid I'd see them wincing at something I said or grimacing at some grammatically incorrect sentence. But it wasn't like that at all. They were very cool! Interestingly enough, they have some new professors that I didn't know--a couple of them probably close to my own age, which was really weird.

I'd brought with me samples of a query letter, a synopsis, a rejection letter and an acceptance letter. So I passed those around the room so people could see. The rejection letter was kind of hard, as it was one of the more detailed ones I ever recieved. But rejection is a part of the process, ugly as it is, I thought it was important for them to know that getting rejected doesn't kill you...it just feels like it. : )

We took a small break between the question and answer session and the reading. My advisor, Professor Feaster, came up to say hello, and I saw Dr. Uehling, too. Two very scary-smart people. I learned so much from both of them while I was in school. Dr. Uehling is the one I called when I finished my first book (before The Silver Spoon) and didn't know what to do with it next. He introduced me to the idea of literary agents, and it's all history and a bunch of query letters from there.

After the break, I told them I'd read a chapter from The Silver Spoon and also a chapter from Bitter Pill, my work in progress. I'd been invited by Professor Byrne to bring a work in progress, which I thought was so cool. It's interesting to get that live feedback particularly with something you can still make changes to.

So I read the first chapter of The Silver Spoon and by that time, I'd relaxed enough to have some fun with it, drawing more on Zara's voice instead of just reading the pages. When I finished, I asked them if they wanted to hear chapter two or if I should move on to Bitter Pill. Someone in the back, I'm not sure who, requested that I keep going. That was so neat!

So I read chapter two and switched to Bitter Pill. With Bitter Pill, I was a little worried. I'd never read it out loud before, not even to myself, I don't think. So, I knew I'd be stumbling a little more than I had with my other excerpt. But, oh, it was so wonderful! Yeah, I tripped over some places and actually stopped to scribble a note at one point. But hearing the words out loud, feeling the rhythm of the sentences again...it made me remember how much I loved writing that story. Bitter Pill has, unfortunately, been languishing lately on the side as I don't know what to do with it. It's too short really, as it is, and I've been loathe to add another subplot in (a paranormal element) as I think it will change the tone too much. But reading it aloud and hearing people's reaction to it (they laughed in all the right places!) gave me such motivation. I want to see it published in some fashion because it was so much fun to write! I decided right then that I'd try revising it to make it longer (adding in the subplot) but if that changed it too much, I'd make a serious effort to getting it published as is.

Okay, this is going to have to be another "to be continued" because this entry is already HUGE...Three parts to this story, I guess!

Anniversary Flowers...

Just had to share. My 6th wedding anniversary was on Sunday and my husband brought me TWO kinds of flowers. On top of which, he took a picture of one of them (tulips, like we had on our wedding day) at my request so I could post it here. Isn't he nice? : )

I know it's a huge picture, but I have no clue how to change that. I'll try to hide it behind a link so it won't take over your screen!



Anniversary%20flowers.jpg

Valpo Road Trip

I left work on Thursday a little later than I wanted to, no surprise there, but I still made it out way ahead of traffic. I was a little nervous about driving to Valpo as I'd never done it before from either home or work. My husband normally drives when we go, and if I'm not driving, I have no chance of remembering how to get there.

I celebrated when I saw the Welcome to Indiana sign. Still gives me the same thrill it did when I saw it almost twelve years ago on my way to becoming a freshman. Also, this time it meant that I was nearly out of the construction on 294--yea!

I came into town on Route Two, I think. It brought me by the new part of town with the Pier One, Barnes and Noble and Culvers. These kids have it so lucky. So many fast food restaurants now within walking distance. When I was there, it was either Subway, McDonalds or, in later years, taking your life in your own hands to cross Rt.30 by foot to the Taco Bell. Anybody else remember Miller's Mart? Ick.

First campus building I saw was Wehrenberg, the dorm where I lived my junior and senior year. My eye immediately found Becky's old room. Top floor, second window from the end. I know for sure because mine was directly across the hall, facing out across campus instead of the parking lot. A wave of homesickness washed over me because the building looks exactly the same. Like if I pulled into the parking lot and found my way to the top floor, Becky might still be there and my room would still be my room across the hall. Nobody ever tells you the downside of having great friends from college is that you miss them constantly when you no longer see them every day.

I passed what used to be called the Eastgate Entrance for campus, I don't know if it still is, and then the field where much beer and some blood is spilled every year in the Sig Tau alumni/active football game.

I checked into my hotel, The Fairfield Inn right there on Rt.30, and promptly started to get nervous. I had a couple hours to kill before I needed to be over at Huegli Hall. I wasn't worried about the talk--most of you know, I can babble on about pretty much anything for an extended period of time--but the reading portion of the program was making me feel a bit queasy. Reading aloud in front of a group is much closer to a performance than I'd like it to be. You can't read flat monotone and you can't bury your head in your pages. You have to make it interesting, without overdoing it. But the worst part is that as you read the pages aloud, you hear bits that clunk. Things you could have fixed or made better...but it's too late now! Aaaaack.

So, I pulled out the first couple chapters of The Silver Spoon and read over them, familiarizing myself with them again, even though, at one point, I would have sworn the words were burned into my brain. Then, because I'd been invited to bring a work in progress, I pulled out the first chapter of Bitter Pill. I'd never read Bitter Pill to anyone out loud before and I was eager, although still nervous, to see what kind of reaction it would receive. In my opinion, it's really different from The Silver Spoon. And it is truly a work in progress, still. So, I hoped the reaction might give me some clue about what parts might still need revision and what parts were okay as is.

I changed my clothes three times before leaving, same outfit but three variations, and ate a package of Hostess Ding Dongs for some chocolate courage.

To be continued tomorrow...

Valpo Road Trip Post

I'm working on an entry to tell you all about my trip to Valpo--in short, it was awesome! But I'm probably not going to get to it today. I've got a few other things that have to be finished first, and with everything blooming, my headache is working its way from "bothersome" to "go lie down in a dark room."

Big Brother is watching me....

Last week in preparation for my trip to Valpo and my upcoming trip to St. Louis, I bought and activated I-Pass for my car. Believe me, I looove the convenience of being able to drive through the millions of toll plazas in Illinois without stopping or fumbling for the right change, but it creeps me out that "someone" can tell where I've been at any given time. When you register for I-pass, you have to give them your name, address, etc, plus the license plate on your car. I would imagine that everytime you pass through the toll booth, a computer somewhere records it. I wonder if the police use it yet to try to track down people.

*shudder* If I were criminally inclined, I'd be very worried right now...

The other foot is now shod...

As you might remember from my post a few weeks ago, I'm a judge for the fiction category of this year's Wordfest at Valpo. This is the second year I've done it, and it's so much fun. However, even I am aware of the irony in this sudden reversal of roles for me. How often have I been the one sending my best effort off in an envelope with one last longing look and a prayer? In this case, I'm the one receiving everyone else's best efforts. So, I want to document the experience (though, not the results, of course) because I want to remember what it feels like the next time I'm cursing under my breath at getting another rejection letter from a faceless agent or editor. They had their reasons, I'm sure, just as I have mine.

The envelopes, plural this year, arrive in our mailbox, thick with entries and promise. I'm excited to see them, eager to begin reading. My heart jumps a little just at finding they've arrived. So many possibilities, so many chances to experience amazing new writing and amazing new writers.

I tear open the envelopes and start flipping through the entries. I will read them all, but I put them in the order in which they catch my attention. It occurs to me that this is probably what agents and editors do as well--that's why it's so important to have a hook in your opening sentence, both in the manuscript and your query letter.

I start reading, marveling at the descriptions and the turns of phrase. So clever, so observant. I hope someone reads my stuff and thinks this same thing sometimes. I'm so impressed by this crop of new writers.

As I make my way through the pile, marking each one in the corner with a dot so I know for certain that I've read the entry, I realize some entries are easier to read than others. Not because of content, though, if honest, we'll all admit that some stories will call more strongly to us than others. But because of little things, proper page set-up (double-spaced and one-sided), correct formatting for dialogue (quotation marks with a comma or period inside of them at the end of the statement), and a normal font size (nothing smaller than 11, I'd guess). I don't knock off "points" or anything because of improper formatting. I judge on the story alone. If it moves me in someway, if I can picture the places and the people contained within, if I know that the story, images or characters will stay with me after I've read other stories. But I notice the formatting and realize that this is probably why all the articles and books exist on formatting your manuscript. Agents and editors are busy. If your manuscript or query letter looks hard to read as it crosses their desk, they probably won't even try. My first query letter was one page, almost entirely solid type. Yeah, I think I know why I garned a bunch of rejections on that one.

I narrow down the entries, rereading the ones that I've decided against to make sure my choice wasn't due to distraction or misunderstanding of the larger concept. This is the hard part. I know that every story here belongs to a writer out there. I'm one of those writers, in the larger sense, so I try to make sure I know why I'm chosing what I've chosen. Still, there will be people upset and disappointed. The most difficult thing is that none of the stories are bad. Every single one of them holds promise because of the effort put into to writing it down. But I know that the writers whose stories aren't chosen won't see it that way. I wouldn't. I'd see it as rejection. From this side of things, I can see why it just isn't so. Your story isn't bad. It just doesn't resonate with me. How often have I heard that?

I manage to get it down to seven entries. Always seven. I can only have six with First, Second and Third place and three honorable mentions. One will have to be left out. This kills me because in this situation, it's not about one being better than another. They're all good.

I haven't made my final decision yet. I'm going to have to sleep on it and re-read them all one more time. All I can say is this experience gives me new respect for the agents and editors who make these choices everyday.

The nicest thing you can say...

I nearly forgot to tell you this. Yesterday, I met with the women's group from my old church at their newly merged church for a book discussion on The Silver Spoon. I was a little nervous as my book contains some not-church-appropriate material, but it was all good. I had a lot of fun talking with them, and I think they enjoyed the discussion. At least, I hope so!

A couple people mentioned that they read this blog -- yea!! (Jan, was that you? If so, hi! And thanks for reading.) And one woman also told me one of the nicest things you can ever tell an author. She said that she'd sit down to read just a few pages with her coffee in the morning, but she'd get so into reading, she'd lose track of the time and nearly be late for work. Wow! I love that.

As a reader, I love falling so deeply into a world that I can almost forget any other world exists. As a writer, that's a huge compliment. All we want to do is show you that world from inside our heads, make it as real to you as it is to us. To be able to do that for someone is a huge honor. It's not just about writing then, but about trust. I think we buy books and read stories by the same authors over and over again because they've shown they can be trusted. They're not going to leave us hanging or let us down. So for someone to trust me, not just with their money or their time, but also with their imagination...wow. Huge, huge honor. : )

Washing Machine Incident and other stuff...

I missed blogging on Friday. Our washing machine went into melt-down mode while washing a load of much-needed laundry. So, I stayed home and argued with the Sears folks about the machine still being under warranty. Still, the earliest they can get someone out here is April 18. Aaack!

In other news, I put in five or six hours of writing on Friday and another five or six on Saturday and finished a rough draft of my current project! This is not a Zara Mitchell or Rennie Harlow story, but something completely unrelated to either of them. I'll put together some more details as I work through revisions. Actually, I have to figure out what needs to be fixed before I can work on revisions, but you get the idea! I'm really excited about it.

As a reward for finishing the draft, I vegged on Saturday and watched a lot of Tivo'd television. Apparently, it was a Roswell Friday on Sci-Fi, so Tivo picked up five of those episodes for me. I watched a couple of those and re-watched Veronica Mars. I want to know who killed Lilly Kane, darn it! The clues are coming fast and furious these days, and I have the feeling I'm just not seeing it.

I'm trying to read The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy. It's funny, laugh-out-loud funny, but sometimes I feel like I'm missing stuff or my brain has to work too hard. The Improbability Drive, for example. Huuuh, what? I know, it's supposed to be funny, but as many people will tell you, including my husband, I'm very a literal thinker. I find myself stopping to try to reason through things in this book that, I have the feeling, aren't supposed to be reason-able. But it's definitely made me laugh, so it's been worth it for that!

And finally, for my fellow CSI fans, I found this Slate article that attempts to explain Grissom's appeal to female viewers. Obviously, Warrick and Nick are nothing to sneeze at, but apparently, there's a huge female Grissom following. I have to confess...something about the character is extremely appealing. His intellect, his passion for his work...his obssession with bugs. Hey, everybody needs a hobby! Anyway, check it out and see what you think : )

So easily amused...

I work in a large department for my dayjob, but only a few of us sit in a particular area, geographically. One of my teammembers is currently out of state on a project. She had to take a large number of materials with her, and she has since shipped the extras back. So, her cube is now full of unopened boxes. I have not seen this level of interest in anything since the last time someone brought in free doughnuts. I'm NOT kidding. People are stopping by on a regular basis to marvel at the collection of boxes. And then they have to ASK anyone who is nearby, what's going on with these boxes? I feel like I've explained it a million times already--need I say that the cube in question is right next to mine?!? It's funny to listen to other people explain it too. They always say something like, "Well, I heard that it's extra materials from the xyz project." The cube full of boxes has now become urban legend!!!

Next time someone stops by and asks, I'm tempted to charge them an admission fee to view the exhibit. Not much. Just a couple bucks. I figure I rate it as the only docent around to give the "what's going on with these boxes" speech.

I've also considered alternate explanations to the question, "What's going on with these boxes?":
-"Jane" went crazy on eBay. Boy, is she going to be in trouble when she gets back.
-I don't know, but that one seems to be leaking blood.
-"Jane" no longer works here. This is the new storage area. Have you seen her red stapler?*
-What boxes?
-So much for the secret crystal meth lab...
-*rolls eyes* Have you no appreciation for modern art? Clearly, "Jane" is making a statement about the ludicrous command we are all given on a daily basis to think outside the box when, in fact, we live and work inside large boxes. Boxes within another larger box. It's a metaphor for modern life, darling.

*Yes, that was a reference to Milton. If you don't know who that is or if you think I'm referring to Paradise Lost, you are not, nor have you ever been a corporate drone. Lucky you.

Once again, running late...

I'm supposed to be leaving right NOW for kickboxing. I'll be late...again. Oh, well. Thanks to everyone for The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy information. I'm going to pick it up next time I'm in the bookstore. It sounds like it has this kind of bizarre sense of humor to it, which I'll probably like : )

In the spirit of learning, I thought I'd pass along something I learned this week. A condition known as MarySue-ism. This is when either a) a character is so transparently a shell/stand-in for the author in that the character has no depth or personality, or b) a character has become so over the top (everyone loves her, she has no annoying qualities, she's unbelievably self-sacrificing, etc.) that no human being can relate to the character anymore.

Someone in one of the loops sent me a link to a whole page defining this condition. You can check it out here. Interesting, no? One of the television characters I've heard people talking about as being afflicted with MarySue-ism is Kate on Lost. I'm not sure I agree with that, though she does seem to have an inordinate amount of men lusting after her. Course, the male/female ration on that island might be to blame for that. What do you think? Has anyone else heard of this MarySue syndrome? I was surprised to learn about how long it's been around (since the early days of Star Trek.)

On the run today...

Sorry, short entry. I have to run and vote for a referendum in my school district so the children can have silly things like art and music. Seriously, when did we become a society that looked on the arts as OPTIONAL? Without music, art, writing, whatever, you miss out on the beauty of life.

Okay, enough ranting. Here's an interesting article on the probablity of finding other "Earths." Wouldn't that be cool? We won't develop the technology to reach them for who knows how long, but they're hoping to have the equipment to see earth-sized planets by the end of this decade. Woo-hoo, five more years to go!

Also, can someone (Ed or Rob) please explain the premise of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy? I know very little about this franchise and am starting to feel like someone left a chapter out of my Geek Handbook : ) My chapters on Star Wars and Star Trek, however, are very thick!

This is torture...

I hate Daylight Savings Time. Spring forward, my ass. It's like "stumble forward, groggy from the lack of sleep." But I guess that wouldn't fit very well on the little calendar square. : ) I always stay up too late on Sundays as it is and last night because of the time change was even worse. Most people kind of pooh-pooh the idea that it makes that big of a difference, but I think I once read an article, like a million years ago, that said more car accidents take place the week following a time change. I miss Indiana : ) For those who don't know, Indiana, or parts of it, stubbornly refuses to cave to peer pressure from all the "cooler" states who do this arbitrary loss/gain of an hour. *sigh* But at least this means it will still be light by the time I get home!

Other stuff:

-Weird thing happened to me on the way home from work on Friday. Sitting at an intersection, I saw sparks falling from a power line across the street. Eeek. I thought about calling someone, but I had one bar of battery left on my cell and I didn't know the direct number for the power company. And I'm extremely leery of calling the police on something like that. I don't want them ticked at me for calling them on something that's not really their territory. But then, as I'm driving on, feeling guilty about not doing SOMETHING, I realize that I have an old ComEd bill in my car. The very bill I used to jot down ideas for this blog. So, I did have their direct number. How weird is that?!? So, I made the call and the woman said they'd send trucks.

-I should never, ever read reviews for The Silver Spoon when I'm writing new stuff. Not everybody's going to like my book or the way I write, and I'm good with that. There are some very popular authors that I don't like to read. Doesn't mean they're bad, just not my style. It's all just opinion. And yet, it causes a major crisis of self-esteem and writing ability when I stumble across one of these reviews directed at my book. Ick. But here's the thing. I have to remember I'm writing for myself, first. Everybody else comes second to that. Sounds selfish, right? Except if I'm not entertained by what I'm doing, then I have the hunch that no one else will be, especially any potential critics. I do it for myself, because I love it. And that's the best reason : )

-April is going to be an insanely busy month. I'm going to speak to a church group about my book this coming Sunday. I'm a little nervous about this, as some parts of my book are possibly not really church-friendly, depending on how you look at it. My theory has always been God knows exactly what's going on anyway, so why do we try to pretend?

Then this week, I expect to get the short fiction entries for Valpo's Wordfest literary contest. I'm a judge again this year! I'm so excited to get the packet and start reading. It's so interesting to see what they've come up with, creatively.

On April 14, I'm speaking at Valpo to a group of Creative Writing students and then doing a reading to a larger audience, I believe. Here's a link to check it out. Kind of fun to see my book featured like this!

Then starting on April 26, I'm beginning my roadtrip down to St. Louis for the Romantic Times Booklovers' Convention. Dude. So many of my favorite authors are going to be there! Laurell K. Hamilton, Kelley Armstrong, MaryJanice Davidson, Charlaine Harris, Kim Harrison, M. J. Rose, and Linnea Sinclair. And that's just a few! I'll be participating in the book fair, which I think is open to the public. Basically, fans can come in and buy books and get them signed. So there will be little old me, sitting with all these famous authors. Oh, yeah, I already feel like throwing up. Plus, the convention runs for nearly a week. And it's rumored to be...wild. Costume balls, theme parties...so not my thing. I'm just such a darn introvert. But I'll bring a couple of my basic black dresses and then maybe I can go to the costume ball as "the quiet one nobody knows"! I will provide you guys with a full and accurate travel report, I promise. Here's a link if you want to see all the names of the authors attending the book fair.

Guess that's about it except...
-Season finale of Battlestar Galactica had a major "holy sh*t" moment in the last five minutes. Now I have to wait until July to find out what happens next!!! No more Battlestar Galactica Fridays for three months--that sucks! On the other hand, they will, I believe, be rerunning the mini-series that started the new series sometime this month on SciFi Channel. So be sure to check it out, if you want to know why I'm always freaking babbling about this show. It's SOOOO good. : )

-Read an excellent book this weekend, The 37th hour by Jodi Compton. One of the best books I've read this year. Okay, as I was getting the link for you guys, I happened to notice that not all the reviewers agreed with me. Some even gave it one star. So, you'll have to check it out for yourselves. There's a sample chapter, if you follow the link I gave you. (Beck, I think this is one you would enjoy.)

But I really, really liked it. Some of the writing was a little rough in some spots. Mainly when she was trying to attribute a thought to the main character. Instead of just doing it this way: "He was handsome in that nerdy, Bill Gates-sort of way." (Italics usually indicate interior thought in modern novels). The author did it this way: "He was handsome in that nerdy, Bill Gates-sort of way, I thought." The "I thought" is kind of bumpy and unnecessary, but a minor sin all things considering. By the way, that is not a real quote from the book. I made it up to illustrate my point, so don't hold that against the book! This was the first book in a long time where I immediately wanted the next book in the series. In fact, I went out and bought it today at lunch. Hardcover and everything. Actually, it kind of makes me feel better to see those one-star reviews on a book I enjoyed, reminds me that what I wrote above is true!

No joke.

I'm leery of writing anything in here today for fear that people will not take it seriously. Usually, a good bet, most of the time! : ) This made me start wondering about April Fool's Day and its origin. So here's the scoop, in case you're like me and find these little bizarre questions popping into your head all the time.

According to the all-knowing internet, April Fool's Day came about when they changed to the Gregorian calendar in 1582. Previous to that point, the New Year was celebrated on April 1. With the Gregorian calendar, the same one we use now, I think, the New Year is celebrated on January 1. Some people clung stubbornly to the old tradition of starting the new year on April 1 and were teased about it by their more forward-thinking peers. Apparently, that's how April Fool's Day came about.

Here's an article if you want to read more about it. : )

I've never really taken part in April Fool's. First, because I'm not very good at keeping a straight face, which is extremely important in this type of thing. And second, because I don't like to look, well, foolish. I do it well enough on my own, I don't need help from anyone else : )

Before I forget...

Read this entry from Wil Wheaton. The guy is a good writer, fun to read, and excellent at painting a detailed and loving portrait of every day life. This particular essay is one written about a beloved family member, their cat, who had to be put to sleep this week. Instead of focusing on the sadness, Wil talks about how the cat, Felix, came into their lives. It's a lovely piece.

Plus, I love the line about the likelihood of them ever getting a car in their garage. Sounds like my house. We've owned a townhome and two houses. Never once has a car been in any of those garages. Yes, it's sick, I know.

Oh, I don't know...

Last night, after coming out of kickboxing class, I was struck by all these wonderful ideas to blog about. I even wrote them down on an old bill that had been abandoned in the car. Did I bring the bill with me so I'd have it with me when I sat down to write? Um, no. Do I remember what I wrote down on the bill? Eh. Kinda.

One of them was about how, in some ways, school politics never end. Remember in school when you had to pick a lab partner or you had to wait for a team to pick you (seriously, that's a great way to build self-esteem)? You never wanted to get stuck with the sucky lab partner (whether that was the geeky one or the one who wouldn't do any work probably depended on your social status), and you never, never for the love of God wanted to be the last one picked for a team. You know, the one that automatically got assigned to whichever team was unlucky enough to have last pick? Ugh.

That still goes on, even among adults. We just hide it better. You know the person you do not want to get stuck working with on a project. Come on, admit it. S/he is too loud, annoying or maybe s/he is a total glory hound. You'll do all the work and s/he will get all the credit. So, you do everything you can to avoid getting this project, including privately pleading to your manager and/or faking sick that day (which is a virtual guarantee that you will be stuck with him/her cause nobody else wants to work with him/her either.)

We also still encounter feeling of being picked or not picked. People going to lunch without you, or not saving you a seat at a meeting. *shudder* As grown ups, people, I think, are a little kinder, but these subtle forms of social ostracization are still going on. It's less about how you look and dress, and more about how you act and treat others. Which, to some extent, is fair. If you're a jerk or lazy, you're going to get left out. Unless you're funny. Or you bring in free food. Then, all is forgiven...usually. It's just interesting that everyone pretends adults don't do this.

What made me think of this is, actually, kickboxing. Every week, we pair up to practice our drills with a set of punching pads. A lot of the time, we have an uneven number. This makes me tense. I know a lot of the people in the class, and everyone is very nice, so why when it's an odd number, do I automatically feel certain that I'm the odd one out? Usually, it's because most people come to class with a friend, so they have a partner already. What's interesting to me is I find myself reverting to old behaviors that I thought were long dead. I don't seek out a partner. Most of the time, I hurry and wrap my hands (we wear protective hand wraps for punching) and choose a set of punching pads, so someone has to come to me. It's sort of a passive agressive method for getting a partner. I don't have to choose, and I don't have to ask. In general, I think I tend to be more that type of person anyway, observing the situation, taking in what's going on around me, instead of making any active decision.

But sheesh. It isn't that big of a deal. Whoever ends up without a partner is paired with the instructor, which actually is a better deal for your money. One on one training for the price of a group class. But still, it feels weird. Like it matters somehow.

Does anybody else still find the high school experience still lingers about occasionally?

Stephen King's Speech

I don't know how many of you heard/read Stephen King's acceptance speech a couple of years ago when he won the National Book Award (NBA). Stephen King is kind of a scary guy. I think it would frighten me to live inside his head. But he's an amazing writer and an undeniable success, even if you don't care for his particular brand of story telling. His book, On Writing, has been a huge help to me, and I encourage all writers to read it, even if you don't like his books. (By the way, Stephen King wrote Shawshank Redemption and The Body, the story on which Stand by Me was based, both excellent stories that I loved and had very little to do with classic horror. Impressive, because it means he can make you think and scare the beeswax out of you.)

Anyway, a fellow author on a loop I belong to sent out the link to his NBA speech. It's a great speech. But more importantly, I've never read a better description of what it feels like to be a writer, just starting out. The doubts, the fears, the frustrations...and the difference just one person can make in the life or death of the dream. And this is from Stephen King, someone who's sold countless books and countless copies of those books.

So, read this because you're a writer or because you know a writer (I know you know at least one). It's one of the most inspiring things I've ever read.

Blogger *mumble, mumble, swear, swear*

All right, we'll try this again. I apologize for my Good Friday post appearing three times. I've tried to go back and remove the two extras, but Blogger freezes every time. So, I'm going to have to leave it be for now.

A couple interesting things that I found today:

-The first books that I ever remember reading and really getting into were the Little House books. They're apparently going to be showing a few episodes of a new Little House on the Prairie show on ABC. If I can figure out when it's going to be on, I might check it out. I loved the original, but I'd be interested to see how they redo it. The original version was a bit Hollywood, I think, with a "lesson" in every episode for young viewers. However, now that I'm older, I find myself intrigued by the very notion of heading out into the middle of nowhere with small children and trying to survive. They've done a couple of really good reality shows on PBS about this. Frontier House is one of them, I can't remember the other. Meg Cabot also has a few things to say about this new show. I do think she's right. The new Pa's a little too good looking for my comfort! Course, maybe Michael Landon was too, I just was too young to notice such a thing. -

-Also, this about new dark chocolate M&Ms. I'm okay with movie tie-ins with products, fine and dandy, and I'm more than fine with more dark chocolate products--love it. But I think that Mars may have missed something in its understanding of the Force. Um, the dark side is not yummy and delicious. It's kind of evil. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to the dark side and all that. So what does that say about me, the consumer who prefers the dark chocolate M&Ms to the obviously non-evil milk chocolate version? I hate to overthink it, but I also hate it when marketing people don't think enough. Obviously, you're trying to entice Star Wars fans to buy M&Ms, otherwise why put Star Wars all over the wrapper? But if you know your obssessed-fan target demographic, you know that people aren't going to be too keen on being classified as choosing the dark side. You know what I'm saying? Just a thought, Mars Marketing People.

Concession Stand Teen: "Yes, Ma'am. What kind of M&M's would you like?"

Me: "Hmm. How about the ones that destroyed a Republic, slaughtered thousands of innocent (albeit fictional) people, endorsed human superiority over aliens, and brought about the downfall of the father of one of our culture's most famous heroes...with peanuts, if you've got them."

Um, yeah.

In other news, Stacy G. has given her stamp of approval to the synopsis! Yea!!! Beck also volunteered to read it for me, so we'll see what her take is as well. I hope to have this thing sent off to RuneStone shortly.

Blogger is making me crazy!!!!

This is the fifth time I've tried to post. I keep getting an internal server error. Arrrrgggh.

So, let's try this again and see if it works...

Good Friday and other religious stuff...

All right, this is a little belated, but I wanted to talk about Good Friday. Most people know what it is. In the Christian tradition, this is the day in the church year that we remember Christ's suffering and death on the cross. It's a dark day, and...oddly enough, it's my favorite.

Maybe favorite isn't the right word. It is the one religious day/holiday that affects me the most. We make a huge deal of Christmas and Easter, which are both big, important days, but without Good Friday, neither of them have much meaning. That always strikes me as something important. Without the worst day, the good days have less meaning. This is, I think, is true in real life and in stories. Sometimes, when you love a character, it's hard to make them suffer, but you know, that the experience can't be as real unless there's pain. I always think of the Matrix movie when I think of this. One of the agents tells Morpheus that they tried creating an artificial state of perfect happiness for the humans. But people kept waking up. So, maybe there is a point to the bad days too, I don't know. Not that we would ever wish bad days upon ourselves or anyone else for the sake of creating meaning.

To me, this is also the day that has made it that much easier for me to relate to Jesus, the person. In the Garden of Gethsemene (spelling?), he asked God to get him out of it, if possible, but if not, he would accept that fate as well. That's a person, a real person, facing pretty awful times ahead. This is not someone who goes blithely and cheerfully into death as one might expect. This is someone who knows what it means and doesn't want it, yet accepts it as something that must be done.

Same thing when he's been crucified and thinks that God has abandoned him. Yeah, I probably would too, in that situation.

To me, Good Friday is the day that reminds me of why I believe what I believe. It brings meaning to everything else in the church year. It gives more depth to my understanding of his death. Because this is not someone who shrugged and said, yeah, okay, I'll do this because I know I'll live again in three days. This is someone who thought about all that he would lose by doing this, the ultimate leap of faith, and did it anyway. How many of us could be that brave? Not me, I don't think, even on my good days.

***This message brought to you by a PK (pastor's kid), who has thought probably way too much about this kind of thing--I mean, who else has favorite religious holidays?!?***

A few more fun things...

Any one of these I could probably spend an entire entry on, but I'm running short on days and by next week, this will all be old news! : )

-Bugs! I saw the first flying bug this morning on my way to work. That means this horrible, cold weather is going to end soon, right? RIGHT?

-Check out this fun article about the fate of a character on LOST. It doesn't really contain spoilers as much as speculation, but what I find funny is that they include odds. Hmm, I wonder if Vegas is taking bets...

And finally, this is so cool! They've announced my visit to campus on the Valpo English Department website. I'm so excited!!! It's on the lower right hand side of the screen...The guy in the picture is Tim O'Brien. You know the one whose book I wrote a paper on in college!?!

Have a wonderful weekend, everyone, and Happy Easter!

Yea!

Saw the rough draft of the brochure for the Annual Writers' Institute at University of Wisconsin-Madison. I love this conference and always learn so much while I'm there! Plus, this time, I get to speak on a panel. I'm so excited and nervous. I can't wait! As soon as the brochure is online, I'll link to it, so you guys can check it out. Stacy G. helped me write my bio statement : )

College fun...

Suzanne McMinn's blog entry ("they keep finding me") today made me think of some of the crazy/stupid things I did in college. By comparison, mine seem rather tame. And don't worry, college friends of mine, I won't mention names...I'll protect the guilty. : ) Mom, Dad, stop reading now *grin*

-I stayed out all night for the first time as a freshman with a boy who was only considering Valpo as a school, a prospective student. We spent the entire time talking at some little diner place near campus. He decided to enroll : )

-Once put off a sociology paper that we were supposed to be working on all semester until the night before it was due. Got it done, and got a B, if I remember correctly.

-Left the country (went to Canada) once for a fraternity formal.

-Got drunk for the first time as a junior (yes, I was a goody two-shoes and slow to rebel) and used the men's bathroom in the fraternity house. No doors on the stalls so my then-boyfriend-now-husband had to stand guard. I accidentally knocked the toilet paper into the toilet (before I went to the bathroom, thank goodness) and when I told my boyfriend/husband, he thought I said I fell into the toilet. So THAT rumor circulated for awhile. What's worse was, in my drunken state, I was worried that the someone would try to flush with the roll of toilet paper in there. So I pulled it out. Yes, I reached my hand into the nasty, nasty frat boy toilet and pulled out the roll by the very tiny edge that remained above water.

-I showered once in that fraternity house. Don't remember why or when. But I vividly remember the mold *shudder*

Wow. Those are pretty lame. I was SUCH a goody two shoes. Most of my other crazy/stupid things involve other people's crazy/stupid actions that I got pulled into vicariously. For example, watching a friend empty a stomach's worth of vodka into a bush outside our dorm (the bush later died, but that could be a coincidence), assuring a friend that I would remember that she'd put her shoes behind the couch for safe keeping, and...oh, wait.

Now, I remember some more stuff. Valpo had/has a really old-fashioned policy about visitation by the opposite sex. Boys weren't allowed to be on the floor before ten a.m. or after midnight on weekdays and before ten a.m. (is that right?) and after two a.m. on weekends. Our senior year, a few of us plotted together and got rooms at the end of the hall near the fire doors so we could *ahem* extend visitation hours to whatever we saw fit. This is back in the day when poor college students didn't have cell phones. So, it was a complex system of the boy calling before he left and the girl keeping an eye out the window, without looking obvious about it, for his car/motorcycle, and then slipping down to the fire door to open it to let him in. All while avoiding R.A. rounds. Hee. Good times : )

What else am I forgetting, you guys? Post a comment. Just keep in mind, my dad occasionally checks this blog, so be circumspect : )

***For Women Only***

Grossest thing ever. Pine-scented sanitary waste bags with giant pink roses on them. This is apparently a new development at work. It makes all the stalls smell like giant kitty litter boxes. Sorry, I know it's disgusting, but I just had to share.

More fun reading...

Once again, I seem to be short on fascinating things to say (ha!) so instead I'll direct you to other people who have fascinating things to say.

Read Meg Cabot's review/recap of Spring Break Shark Attack, which aired on Sunday on CBS. I have to admit, I was kind of intrigued by the splashy (pun intended) promos. And because I thought, it can't possibly be this campy. New levels of campy were reached and not in the cool Buffy the Vampire Slayer sort of campy way. Seriously, I spent about five minutes watching the middle of this movie (as I tried to find the start of Cold Case, which due to basketball, was all messed up). You know it's bad when, less than thirty seconds in, you're rooting for someone, anyone to get swallowed up in a swell of bloody, shark-infested water. I couldn't believe that CBS had anything to do with this movie. It was like the soft porn version of that really bad movie of a few years ago with the sharks and the research lab...remember that one? I think Samuel L. Jackson might have been in it. At least until he got eaten. Not that I'm saying CBS is always the center of all that is good and wonderful about television. But this is way more FOX or WB than CBS.

Also, check out Suzanne McMinn's entry (Countdown to Cole) about doing research via cold calls and the interesting facts she learned about B and B's. I always think it's fascinating to get a "behind-the-scenes" look at what other authors do to create strong stories. And she's right. I HATE cold-calling for research answers. Most people are nice enough, once you explain that you're not actually going to do anything nefarious with the information. I had a very interesting conversation with an extremely understanding pharmacist earlier this year about whether you could drug someone without their knowledge by grinding up a particular pill and mixing in ice cream. Not to mention security measures and record-keeping processes that might or might not be in place at an independent pharmacy (versus Target, Osco, etc.) Oh, yeah, that's normal. : )

More movie stuff...

It's a Monday, and my brain is tired. So, here is an interesting article on the new Star Wars movie due out in a couple of months. I can't wait : ) The best part is that George Lucas indicates that we will see Luke and Leia as babies in the film. If you know me at all, you know that has been one of my big questions...pretty much since the new films started. So, I'm excited about seeing how that plays out.

Also, this is something kind of fun. I found a book in Target last week on one of my book buying binges. Abby Cooper: Psychic Eye. I would describe it as a paranormal cozy or maybe a paranormal chicklit mystery (could I possibly tack on one more genre?) I picked it up because the psychic element of paranormal has always interested me, and I considered it field research. A new twist to the Rennie Harlow series would land it smack in the middle of paranormal...in a way.

To my surprise, I really, really enjoyed the Abby Cooper: Psychic Eye. Most books with psychics in them are so heavy and kind of depressing. I liked this book, not only because of the humor in it, but also because the author gave me a clear idea of what it would actually be like to have the gift. And not to be always tortured by it and resisting it, which is how most fictional psychics are depicted. Of course, the fact that Ms. Laurie is a psychic herself helps add the verisimilitude that really draws you in. Now, that's what you call a platform! : )

Another strange random fact...right now, I'm re-reading Grimm's Fairy Tales. Geez. Were these always intended for children? Lots of punishments that involve being stuffed in a barrel studded with nails and dragged behind horses. I kid you not. But the most beautiful one always triumphs, though she may be shallow and need a lesson about treating people kindly. The cruel always get their due, in one way or another. It's kind of fun to see such extremes in story telling. If you've never read them, it's worth it. If you haven't read them since you were little, it's definitely worth a second look.

Rough Blurb for Zara Book II--The Order of the True

Okay, here it is...Remember, this is all subject to change and this is just a rough draft of a blurb. Nothing at all final. Oh yeah, and the title changed again. The Order of the True is the title I actually gave to the very first draft of this book.

BLURB:
When Caelan disappears on a mission to investigate a Humanist group, Zara sets out to find him. With no support from Asha or any of the others, Zara is on her own, except for the aid of one recently freed drone, Ehren. As Zara searches for Caelan, she finds herself making life or death choices, where the power is in her hands. One council member wants to use Zara’s abilities against the others, in exchange for Caelan’s life. But there is more to the Observer struggle on Earth than meets the eye, and Zara will have to choose between her Observer and human heritage, with ringing implications for thousands of innocent lives.

Her fight to save Caelan from bigoted humans, power-hungry Observers and desperate drones teaches Zara that while some leaders are born, others must be made…

I did it! Now, I'm nervous...

I turned my synopsis for book II over to Stacy G, who graciously agreed to read it even though it's totally going to spoil the ending for the book. Or maybe not. I haven't quite decided yet on one major key factor. But the bones of the story are there and that's what synopsis is for. To tell you what happens to who, where and when without a whole lot more detail than that. There might also be some why in there too.

If any of my other first readers (Beck, Deb, Ed, Julie), wonderful people that you are, want to read the synopsis, just let me know. The only reason I didn't offer it up is that, again, it will spoil the reading of the actual book. 14 single spaced pages and you'll know the whole story that'll take nearly 300 pages to tell. And, surprise, surprise, I'll be asking you to read the 300 pager as well. I feel bad even asking anyone to read the synopsis because of that--I hate knowing the end of a book before I read it--but I'm desperate to make sure that it makes sense before sending it off. I'm grateful to Stacy G. for agreeing, and I know she will, as usual, do a fabulous job of helping me find all the things that need to be fixed to make it a better story.

Which brings me to my point -- it's downright terrifying to write a second book in a series. I had no freaking idea. I thought, what fun! I love these characters and I could have such a good time with trying new things...But nooooo! It's not like that at all. Suddenly there are expectations. Not just about the quality of the writing, which I get, but what should happen in the story and what shouldn't. With a second book in a series, there's something to compare it against...the first one! And you have good reviews that say stuff like, "If Klemstein can continue in this manner, it should be a fun series." Aaaaaackk!!! Do you know what kind of pressure resides in that statement?!?

Thing is, when I wrote the first book, I set out just to entertain myself. In the first draft I knew someone was trying to kill Zara. I had no idea why. Not the foggiest reason. In fact, in the first draft, Zara would ask Caelan and he'd refuse to tell her. Zara and I were both frustrated because neither of us knew.

With the second book, it's like I know too much. At this point, I know more about the Observers and their purpose here than Zara does. So, first, it's hard not to let that knowledge come through when she's not supposed to know it yet, and second, it's hard to decide how much should be revealed and when.

I like the second book. At least, the synopsis for it. The book in my head, the book it will become. It's got a lot more action in it, I think, and it really moves people along the paths they've already chosen, in one way or another. I feel for Zara in her struggles. Actions have consequences would probably be theme for this book. And just the same, lack of action has its own consequence. It's also been fun planting all the seeds of what could be for book three. I've got several ideas already in mind : )

We're also introducing one new character, Ehren, who will be with us into the third book, at least. Ehren plays an important role in this story because I think that who we are, as individuals, can be greatly influenced by what others think of us. If someone expects us to behave badly, it's very easy to slip into that behavior. The converse (is this a real word or just a shoe brand?) can be true as well. Ehren's opinion of Zara, or lack there of, is a factor in her behavior and, I think, her peace of mind.

The one bummer to book two is less Caelan. But it was unfortunately necessary in this book, in order for the journey to continue. By the end of the first book, Zara has reached a plateau in her search for herself. She can pretty much handle whatever comes at her as long as he's by her side. In that sense, she's come to rely on him, perhaps even more than she relies on herself. So, what do we have to do? Shake things up a little.

I'm going to post another entry with the rough blurb for Book II. Remember, all of this can change at any time. Stacy G. I'm sure will have good changes to suggest and, of course, the publisher, if they decide to accept the book, will have their say as well. Not to mention all the first readers! : )

Have a good weekend!

HELP--I need a Texas question answered for book research!!!

Anybody from Texas reading this? Aunt Lynne?

I need to know if an old structure, say a school, built in the last century or so would have either a storm cellar or a bomb shelter. I don't think houses in Texas usually have basements (I'm guessing schools don't either), so I'm wondering if whatever prevents basements from being built would also prevent a storm cellar or bomb shelter from being built.

In short, I need an underground structure in Texas and I'm wondering if it's even possible. Can someone help please?!? : ) You can post a comment here or email me at stacey@staceyklemstein.com

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

A good review from SciFi Romance Online!!!

When I found SFR Online that was when I first realized I wasn't alone in wanting to blend sci-fi and romance. I sent my book to them for review, and I loved what they said. Except the last line made me nervous, you know the "if" part. : )

Here's a link....

"Grow" this...

I've been working on a project for my day job now that consistently uses the word "grow" in a manner that makes me want to scream. So, in the spirit of small irritants being exaggerrated and spread round to irritate a much larger audience, I thought I'd share....

Grow. It implies a natural process. You grow crops. Your children grow up. Grow weary or you grow old.

You do not "grow" your business. There is nothing natural about business growth. It is planned, strategized, manipulated and pulled into existence. If left alone with no effort from you, your business would not develop on its own. A weed grows.

You can't "grow" your savings. I wish it were that easy. A little sunlight, some water and weeks later, you have a fully mature account. It doesn't work that way.

I've saved the worst for last. You can't "grow" your nest egg. I mean, seriously. Eggs do not grow. I realize that it's a metaphor for savings, but still. Eggs do not grow, they hatch. The very idea of nest egg is a definable amount put aside for the future. In the sense of savings, maybe you can add to your nest egg. But it does not grow!

Oddly enough, I have no problem with a slight reversal of these sentences. It doesn't bother me to say, "My business is growing." Or, "My nest egg is growing."

But I just HATE it when people talk about growing something that is not alive! Life must exist for growth, right?!? Plus, I think in most of these cases we're talking about an action that requires work, not a natural process by any means. Now, I'll grant you, growing crops takes work too. But it is work to enhance an already existing natural process. My savings account will not grow, nor is it designed to grow, unless I actively put effort into making it that way.

Build is fine. You build your business. You build your savings. Hell, I'll even go for building a nest egg, which is completely wrong. But not grow!!!! Please, I beg of you.

Another one that I frequently hear around here -- marry. I'm okay with it like this, "The 2005 model is a marriage of style and convenience." But not like this..."Marry up style and convenience in the new 2005 model."

Marry up? Like nouns are suddenly 18th century social climbers? Style's mother always told her to marry up so that's why she picked Convenience, also known as Lord Wentworth!?!

Oh and don't even get me started on...
-laddering up
-templatizing
-granular
-vetting
-gut check
-and many others that I can't recall off the top of my head...

Anybody else out there hear corporate jargon that drives them CRAZY?

New lows...

In the last day, I have:
-purchased new socks so I didn't have to wash the ones I already own for work the next day.
-read the last few pages of an intriguing but possibly depressing novel while standing in the store to see if it ended okay. It didn't. I didn't buy it.
-ran bathwater but forgot to close the drain so all my glorious hot water slipped away and I was left to bathe in about two inches of lukewarm water.
-discovered the my palm pilot had somehow dumped everything I'd ever written or recorded in it. So I got frustrated and bought a cheap paper calendar to replace it. I'm so much better with pen and paper than something with such a little tiny screen and buttons that can so easily be pushed while it's floating around my ginormous carry-all bag.
-had to take ibuprofen just to be able to sit up straight because of back pain...I'm not even 30 yet !

This last one reminds me of one my earlier lows...an all-time stupid moment. I was preparing to fly back home after a business trip to either Texas, Georgia or New Orleans, I can't remember which, when I started making conversation with a couple of women who were sitting there, waiting for the same flight. I don't know how the conversation turned to this, but I somehow got on the topic of how my ears don't really pop like they're supposed to on the plane and it's really painful for me normally and even worse when I have a cold. At that moment, I was developing a cold and bemoaning the fact that I didn't have any decogestant. One of the nice women opened her purse and offered me pills, Sudafed. Okay, I'm not completely stupid. I checked the label on the packaging, I think, but it didn't say Sudafed. She caught me looking and said, "Oh, it's the generic."

So, here I am with these unidentified red pills and this nice woman who's given them to me. Do I hand them back and say no thanks, I don't take strange pills from people I don't know and risk insulting her? Oh, no, can't have that.

I took the pills. I took unidentified pills from a stranger I met in an airport. Jeez Louise, I shouldn't be allowed to cross the street by myself any more. Now, I'll grant you, this was before 9-11, so things weren't quite like they are now in terms of being suspicious of your fellow travelers. But still!!!! How dumb was I? And how lucky that the nice woman who gave them to me was actually just nice and not a psychopath?

So, kiddies, learn this lesson. Never take unidentified pills from a stranger in an airport. Always make them show you the label first *grin*

This concludes our "wow, I can't believe someone is dumb enough to do that" portion of our daily broadcast. : )

Cue the Hallelujah Chorus, please!

It's finished! It's rough around the edges, but the "put your butt in the chair and get it done" version is done! All twelve beautiful pages of it : )

I just wrote a long blog about how good it felt to get this done. Of course, I hit a key of some kind and erased it. Oh, well.

I swore to myself when I began this process that I would never again leave a story with holes in it, like I did this one. It was too hard to get back into it. But here's the thing: I think the distance helped me see problems that I might not have seen as quickly otherwise. Yes, the gaps were troublesome, but not because they were gaps but because they were indicators, I believe, that I didn't know enough about the story to fill them in. Instead of forcing a solution in there when I didn't have any perspective about what worked in the story and what didn't, I left it alone for a time. For awhile there, I thought that was a mistake because I just kept finding more and more gaps that I didn't know how to fill. I thought my distance from the story had caused me to lose touch with it. But I think what I discovered is that I didn't really even know the story well enough to lose touch with it. If that makes sense?!?

Anyway, now I have to go through and put in the little bits here and there that are missing. The pieces that will help it flow better. Then it needs to be cleaned up, put in proper format. And then, of course, polishing the prose. Want to make it so interesting that people are eager to see how everything plays out on the page...the real page!

Whew. I feel like a huge weight has been lifted. Though, I know that feeling is only temporary. After all, the book hasn't been accepted yet! : )

Have a good weekend, everybody!

Almost forgot...Wil Wheaton on CSI and Star Wars on the OC

Don't forget to watch CSI tonight at 8:00 p.m. Central time. One of my very favorite actors, Wil Wheaton, has a guest spot on my very favorite crime show. : ) You know Wil from Stand by Me (he played Gordie) and Star Trek: The Next Generation. I will go on the record as saying I loved Wesley Crusher because having a young character on that show was the only way I could ever imagine myself to be on the Starship Enterprise NCC1701-D.

And as you may remember, I mentioned the Star Wars trailer is going to run during an episode of The O.C. I had the week wrong. It's this week!!!! So, make sure you check it out. : )

Ode on Writing a Synopsis

It's just a little summary
An exercise in tedium
I try and try for fast results
But all I get is medium.

Thank you. Thank you very much. This is why Stacy G. is the poet and not me. : ) And yes, this is ten minutes more I could have spent writing the actual synopsis. But this seemed like more fun.

We haven't had one of these in awhile...

Random thoughts that have floated through my brain in the last week or so:

-Huh. My oatmeal is imported?

-Neutrogena tastes better than my normal face soap.

-Shouldn't vigorously brush teeth while naked in front of mirror--leaves disturbing image in the mind.

-Upon hearing the Ben Folds Five song, "Brick" on my ipod, I say, "Good song" and turn up the volume. Then I have to wonder, am I essentially complimenting myself on this since I'm the one who actually bought it and loaded it on my ipod instead relying on the random choice of some DJ somewhere? It does seem rather self-congratulatory when you think of it this way.

-Wonder what ever happened to:
Leslie Adams, my high school church youth group leader in Decatur?
Jackie Reynolds, one of my few good friends from high school in Mt. Zion?
Kristin Sommer, my "best" friend from 4th grade to 8th grade in Hillsboro?
Do they ever wonder what ever happened to me?

Still chipping away at it...

All right, I'm nearly there with the synopsis (7 pages in, heading speedily toward the climax). I'd probably be even farther along if I could convince myself to work on it at home. But I don't want to write it on my laptop as I'm kind of treating that as my "place" for new work at the moment and I don't want to write it on my desk top because...are you ready? this is so lame...the chair is so freaking uncomfortable at that desk. Yes, I know I could fix that. I probably will. But in the meantime, I thought I'd distract you from the lack of content in my blog by giving you a link to this book, which I stumbled upon and now desperately want to read. I think Jude Devereaux wrote once that readers are only ever interested in the clothing and the bathroom in historical romance novels. I guess this would be part of that fascination. I mean, bras, in their current incarnation, are a relatively new torture device. I'd be interested to see what other instruments of cruelty women have stuffed themselves into to meet the demands of fashion and looking sexy.

But I can't quite convince myself that I need such a book so badly for research when I don't write historical novels. At least not at the moment. : )

Here's another odd one that I found a few months back. It's reportedly the book used most often on all the CSI shows when they have forensic questions. But again, probably something I don't need. Plus, $200!!!! For ONE book. I don't think so.

Sorry, I'm a bit buried in typing up the synopsis today : ) I hope tomorrow will hold countless more opportunities for fruitful blogging -- in other words, I hope I get the damn thing done by tomorrow.

: )

I got it!!!

Thanks to divine intervention (thank you, God), a massive headache and a dose of Alka Seltzer Cold Plus, I've got a really, really rough draft of my synopsis for Zara II. But it's complete! One that actually makes sense, I hope, from beginning to end. Of course, it's written out long hand in some fairly scrawly handwriting that I hope I will be able to read now that I'm off the high of ASCP, but we'll see.

I had a great time talking with The Schaumburg Scribes on Saturday morning/afternoon. It really reinforced my feeling that teaching/talking about writing is an important part of all this to me. I enjoy it. I really love passing along information that I've learned the hard way so other people don't have to make the same mistakes. I like feeling like maybe I made a difference in someone else's writing journey as so many others have done for me. I'd like to be able to teach at some of the community colleges around here, but I'm not sure if they'd be open to someone without a master's degree. But we'll see.

Anyway, back to the story of divine intervention. I went home after my session in Schaumburg and curled up on the sofa to watch all the television I'd Tivo'd last week. No, I didn't make it until Sunday, but I did get past Friday night, so that was good : ) At the end of all that television watching, I ended up with a huge headache, far more likely related to the changing temperature and my temperamental sinuses than anything else. I took some Alka Seltzer Plus Cold and promptly went spacey, as that's what that medicine tends to do to me.

I laid down for a nap, thinking, as I always do right before sleep, about the manuscript issues that still need to be solved for Zara II. As I drifted in and out of sleep, little bits of things would come to me, some of them jumbled up in very nonsensical dream context and others making perfect sense. My nap, during which I didn't really sleep the entire time, lasted about two hours.
At some point, I realized that somehow all the plot knots had become unsnarled. Everything *gasp* made sense. It all matched up.

Honestly, I find that if you can achieve that state between awakeness and sleep, some really creative stuff can happen in there. That's where I can the "pharmacists know all our dirty secrets" for the first Rennie book. I think it just opens your mind up to hearing things that you normally miss in your frenzy to find the answers. I find the Divine in that sort of thing, especially when I've been feeling desperate, as I have been over the last weeks, and this is an answer to an unspoken prayer. So, thank you, God!

Anyway, the synopsis is done, rough, but done! Hallelujah! I've got to type it out and fill in a couple of the rough spots. But the major plot and subplot work...at least to me. The real test will come when I call upon my hardworking first readers : )

Final summary for No Television week...

Stats for this week:

-2 and 1/2 books read. I'm still in the middle of The Rule of Four, which I'm enjoying, but it's not one you can hurry through. You have to pay attention to all the names and history stuff floating aroud.

-3 hours of television. An hour of the Academy Awards on Sunday, an hour of Lost and an hour of The Apprentice (my husband's doing as The O.C. was a repeat last night)

-More writing work done than would have been done otherwise, but nothing qualitative like a page count or anything. I think some of that's because it's taking me some time to get used to having my evenings free (duh, like they couldn't have been all along) and because most of my new writing is done in the mornings. But I have, as I said, been getting more of the "behind the scenes" type stuff done.

Now, I'm sure you've realized, as I have, that the week of no television isn't technically over until Sunday. But I have the feeling my will power will fade over the weekend. Particularly tonight with Battlestar Galactica and SG-1 on. But I'm going to try to hold out until Sunday. I do need a day to catch up on the shows that have been Tivo'd, like Alias, Joan of Arcadia, Battlestar Galactica, SG-1 and Stargate Atlantis.

But the key for me is eliminating that mindless, slack-jawed watching that pretty much dominated every second I was home. Watching a rerun of Friends that I've seen like eight times or the television version of a movie that I own on DVD, just to have the television on as company or background noise. I do actually feel better, more alert, more rested. Mainly because I'm going to bed earlier instead of trying to watch yet another rerun of Seinfield at 11:00. I don't even really like Seinfield! Not to mention my very bad habit of leaving the television on until I fall asleep and then waking up around 2:00 a.m. to fumble in the dark for the remote to turn it off. Yes, I know...baaaaad!

So, all right. I'm going to make it to Sunday. Then I'll catch up on my favorites, after putting in a bunch of time on my writing stuff, before starting another low-television week. I can't really call it no television as I know I'll be watching Lost and The O.C., if they're not repeats. Speaking of which...repeats in March?!? Are they already trying to gear up for May sweeps? That's a lot time coming...

Have a great weekend everybody!

See Battlestar Galactica Episode online

One more thing...most of you know that I've been raving over the new Battlestar Galactica on Sci-Fi channel. I've just visited their website and found that you can watch the first episode online, commercial-free. Now, I don't know anything like how long it takes to download and whether it will do that weird jerky, pause for downloading and then play a few seconds, thing, but it's such a good show and definitely worth checking out. So, if you don't have Sci-Fi Channel but you're curious about the show, as well you should be because it's so good, here is the link:

Click on the red banner once it takes you to the Battlestar Galactica page.

Rewriting advertisements

There's an ad on the radio for the McDonald's filet o' fish sandwich with a little sing song/rap thing going on in it. It's one of their targeted ads so it talks about Chicago. Every time I hear the commercial guy singing/rapping, I want to rewrite the lyrics. Here's how it really is:

I can see my breath
can't feel my toes
winter in Chicago
that's the way it goes

Here's the way I redo it in my head every time I hear it:
I can see my breath
can't feel my toes
winter in Chicago
it really blows.

See, my version has a nice double entendre. We could be talking about the wind, which would be appropriate as we are known as the Windy City and anyone who has ever worked downtown in winter knows how cutting that wind off the lake can be. Or we could be offering an opinion of winter in Chicago. It sucks. Cause it does.

Every notice how people use the words "suck" and "blow" as synonyms (keep your mind out of the gutter!). I mean, like this: "That totally sucks that you got fired, man." "Yeah, it really blows."

"Cool" and "hot" seem to have this same phenomena occuring around them as well, especially lately, thanks to "hot" being the favorite adjective of one hotel heiress. I refuse to mention her name here. There should be at least one place on the web that is a refuge for all those who burned out, don't care now and/or never did.

Yesterday, by the numbers:

1 Bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios

2 pages of writing

45 minute commute

6 1/2 hours of work

40 minute drive to Bloomingdale

6 inches (!) of my hair now on the floor of Use Your Head Salon

20 push ups, 60 crunches and 4 different kinds of kicks in kickboxing (front, round, crescent and hook--actually we did a very cool combination with a crescent kick into a spinning hook kick, love those spinning ones, feels very Alias-like)

45 minute drive back home

1 stop at Target

$70 spent in about fifteen minutes when I only went in for 1 thing

1 hour of television, Lost, which, coincidentally enough, was all about numbers : )

Test...

This is just a test entry to make sure that I didn't, even after Ed's multiple explanations, mess up the blog connection to the new server...

A dumb question for other writers...

How far should a new paragraph be indented? I usually hit tab once so it goes to whatever the first tab preset is for Word or Works. I think it's like a half inch in from the margin. But is there a standard in the industry? I'm not phrasing the question well, but I hope it's clear what I'm asking. I'm just curious...

Woohoo, hair cut time!!!

I finally remembered and/or got around to making an appointment for a hair cut. It's been exactly one year and a month since my last one. When my hair was short, I used to get a hair cut every six weeks or so. Right now, when I leave it down, which is pretty rare, my hair hangs more than halfway down my back.

I'm excited. I love getting my hair cut. I always leave feeling much lighter than when I walked in. Some of that's the pound and a half of hair that they cut off, but some of it's just plain mental. If you feel like you look better, you feel better.

Plus, there's something so relaxing about turning yourself over to someone else's ministrations. Someone else washing your hair always feels so much better than washing it yourself. The hot water, the lying back and relaxing in a chair, the sweet smell of the shampoo, the scalp massage...yes, scalp is an ugly word, in my mind, but I swear it should be treated as one of those spots Monica referred to in that episode of Friends ("7, 7, 7!")

Overall, a very sensuous experience. As in, an experience that appeals to the senses. The word sensuous does not always imply something to do with sex, though that's the meaning people usually associate with it. There are lots of sensuous experiences that don't have anything to do with sex! But then again, sex is a pretty sensuous (appealing to the senses) experience so I guess I understand why that is. *grin*

Day Three of No Television Week...

I meant to update yesterday with news of my progress but the dogs needed to go to the vet for their re-check. Which means I had to drive home from work at the height of rush hour (1 hour and 15 minutes), then to the vet (45 minutes), and finally home again (45 minutes again). Good grief, I spent most of my day in the car yesterday.

Anyway, the no television week has been...interesting. Monday was the most difficult. I was tired and didn't realize how much I counted on coming home and vegging in front of the television for a few hours to recover. But I read instead. Finished another book. That's one thing about this no television week, it could get pretty expensive pretty quickly if I keep reading a book a night. Of course, I'm supposed to be writing at night or at least working something related to writing. That was my whole plan. Get more done with less television. But, unfortunately, I seem to be fried beyond the capacity for thought by the time I get home. However, my creativity seems to be rising as strange little ideas, could-be stories, keep popping into my head. Which is great, I'm writing them down. But I'd like to direct some of that energy toward finishing the ones that are still outstanding (as in not finished, not "of spectactular quality" though one hopes they would be that as well *grin*).

Tonight, though, as part of couple-dom, I'll be watching Lost. Ah, the sacrifices I make...just kidding. Though, I am really excited about it, probably more so than I would normally be.

Oooh, before I forget, during The O.C. tomorrow, they'll be running the trailer for the new Star Wars movie, Revenge of the Sith. I've already seen one trailer online. In fact a friend and I watched three or four times, just trying to see everything. It looks cool. This is the movie I've been waiting for. It was interesting to see all the background stuff on Anakin, but his downfall is really what I want to see -- sounds terrible, doesn't it? But this movie has the possibility of answering all my questions, like, how does Darth Vader know he has a son but not a daughter if they're twins (and, therefore, presumably born at the same time)? Did Obi Wan choose to live Tatooine (spelling?) specifically to watch over Luke? If so, why didn't he seek out Luke when Luke was old enough? Or why not raise Luke himself instead of turning him over to the ill-fated Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru? And how does Padme die? Obviously, she must because Leia says in ROTJ that she's dead. "She died when I was very young." Or something like that. How does Leia have any memories of her mother, as she claims she does in ROTJ, if Vader wasn't even aware of her existence? Hmmm. Many, many ways these can be answered.

Speaking of Star Wars, a funny moment happened yesterday. A friend has recently introduced the first movie (the original) to her son at his request. She only saw the movie once in the theater when it originally came out in the 70's, which just blows my mind that you can only see this movie ONCE. But she found she enjoyed more this time and her son liked it as well. So, because I'm all about spreading the love of sci-fi and Star Wars in particular, I wrote up a list of all the other movies in the series with a line or two about what happens in each so she'll know what order they go in (this is very confusing to most people). I was very careful not to give away the major surprise from Empire Strikes Back. But then, when trying to explain who Padme was and her significance, I blew it. I named the children she will have. Which, in turn, spoils the surprise of the third movie -- the question of who Obi Wan was referring to when he said "there is another."
At least, I think it was Obi Wan.

Anyway, then it turned out she already knew the big secret of Empire Strikes Back (who doesn't...but just in case there is someone who doesn't know, I'm trying to be crafty here) so now she knows everything. But the funniest part is the email I got from her yesterday after she read what I'd sent her yesterday...Don't read this if you don't want to know the second biggest surprise in this series of movies...

"What have I missed all this years? Luke and Leia are related!?"

Then when I called to apologize, she further elaborated saying something to the effect of, "I always thought they kind of had a thing going there."

At which point, I'm forced to tell her that she's not alone. There are a whole bunch of us who shudder every time Luke tells her that she is his sister in ROTJ, as we remember that kiss in Empire Strikes Back.

Web stuff...

This is just a quick test to see if the new settings work. Also, there may be a day or two in the near future where my blog and/or website may be down. A new server is being installed...