I was standing in the kitchen waiting for my breakfast to cook in the microwave when I really noticed the refrigerator magnets covering my freezer, refrigerator, microwave... well, you get the idea I'm sure.
I have a few. Nearly all fifty states. I only buy the state magnet once I've visited the state. Some of the western ones are missing but I might get a chance to pass through a couple more before I kick the bucket. In the meantime, my grandchildren learn the shapes of the states I have from playing with them on the refrigerator.
I have fish. For some reason, the one time I was in Florida, I picked up seven different fish magnets in the local Wal-mart. I'm not sure why I like them, but there you are. They're chunky, fat fish that stick out so I have to put them in a spot where I won't accidentally knock them off. Pain in the ass fish.
There are, of course, the usual commercial magnets, the pizza place, the power company, the vet, the chinese food restaurant, two religious magnets, and the usual touristy souvenir magnets. And there are three or four magnets that used to live on my filing cabinet at work. They have stuff on them like "Murphy's laws" or encouraging poems like "Anyway".
I have a few that bring a smile to my face whenever I read them. One of them is from my old office. It's pale yellow with a tiny "FORM-A" printed in the upper left corner. It says in big bold letters "IF I WANT YOUR OPINION, I'LL ASK YOU TO FILL OUT THE NECESSARY FORMS." People seldom expressed their opinion in my office. No one wants to fill out forms.
One day I was feeling down. There was nothing seriously wrong, but I was just feeling blah. One of the women in my office went off to lunch and when she returned she plunked down a magnet on my desk. "Friends are the chocolate chips in the cookie of life!" It made me laugh. I kept it on the filing cabinet to remind me that life did indeed have a few chocolate chips.
My son went off to the Navy. On his first visit home after basic training, he handed me a magnet. Goodness knows where he found it. MOM~ NO MATTER WHERE I GO, OR WHO I'M WITH, I KNOW YOU'RE ALWAYS BEHIND ME, QUIETLY RIPPING YOUR HAIR OUT! Now you know why I'm bald.
After a particularly discouraging day at Weight Watchers, I was in the pharmacy poking around while I waited for my medications to be refilled. I found a magnet that I found most encouraging in the situation. It still helps out occasionally as it puts such a positive spin on being plus-sized. FAT PEOPLE ARE HARDER TO KIDNAP it declares cryptically. There's no explanation, but I find it a comfort that I'm less likely to be kidnapped than my skinnier sisters.
A dear friend sent me a magnet at Christmas time. It demonstrates the truth that we are indeed kindred spirits. It has a picture of a neat room. And printed on it, My idea of housework is to sweep the room with a glance. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. My friend Jane will testify that this is exactly how I keep house.
How about you? What kind of magnetic literature do you keep around?
Yesterday, Amarinda left us with Emmeline on her way to Peru...
“I’ll find you wherever you go, wife of mine,” Zoltan called out to her in a knowing tone.
Emmeline turned and smiled smugly. “You don’t have the ability to track me any more.”
“You haven’t!” Zoltan turned pale under his spray on tan.
“That’s right. I dug the tracking beacon out of the filling in my tooth.” She saw the alarm in his face. “I’m free of you forever.” She kissed the emerald transponder ring on her finger. “Take me to Peru,” she commanded. The chalice would be hers.
Since I couldn't think of any good reason why she shouldn't go...
People were screaming. Horns were honking. Emmeline opened her eyes and looked at her surroundings in dismay. She was standing in a park, surrounded by an astonished crowd of bystanders. Her quills clacked uneasily. “Where are the llamas?” she demanded of the closest human.
“Llamas?” He shook his head. “No llamas here.”
On the horizon all she could see were gently rolling hills. No majestic mountains. No steep, soaring peeks that pierced the clouds. All around her were the buildings of a small city. A police officer shoved his way through the crowd. “Here! What’s going on?”
“It’s an alien!” one of the men in the crowd declared.
“Harold, I keep tellin’ you there ain’t any such thing as an alien! That’s one of them movie people.” His skinny wife poked him in the ribs with her elbow. “Say hello, Harold. She might be famous.” She poked him again. “Hello, honey. Are you famous?”
“Maude, hush up,” the policeman commanded. “And the rest of you go home. There’s nothin’ to see here.”
Harold snorted. “What do you call that? Woman with quills pops in out o’ nowhere! I tell you she’s an alien.”
Emmeline frowned fiercely at the policeman. “You! Tell me where I am!”
“Don’t you know, lady? Did you hit your head or something? Maybe I should take you in… you might be using drugs.”
Impatiently, she stomped her foot. “Just tell me where I am!”
“Why…Indiana, ma’am. Peru, Indiana.”
And that's it for today!
Anny
Drop by Kelly's Blog and Amarinda's Place to see what their up to. I know one of them was talking about birthday cakes and the other might have to find a new place for her keys. Check them out at http://www.amarindajones.blogspot.com/ and http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/ Blessings on your day!
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Friday, January 11, 2008
Scat cat!
As some of you may remember, we recently said goodbye to our dog, Woobie. We also have a cat. Sammie is positive that we've done something unscrupulous to the dog. At first she ignored us. But lately she's taken up a couple of new behaviors.
A couple weeks ago, we went to Sam's Club to pick up a few things. I found
a nice sturdy box to pile our smaller item in because they don't provide grocery bags. We carted the food inside when we finally arrived home (it was a looooong day of shopping). Two or three days later I finally finished emptying the box. At which time, Sammie appropriated the box for herself. That's her box! She now sleeps in the box next to my desk while I'm writing--up to a certain point.
a nice sturdy box to pile our smaller item in because they don't provide grocery bags. We carted the food inside when we finally arrived home (it was a looooong day of shopping). Two or three days later I finally finished emptying the box. At which time, Sammie appropriated the box for herself. That's her box! She now sleeps in the box next to my desk while I'm writing--up to a certain point.At the point that she decides that I've written enough, she hops up on the desk and drapes herself over my left wrist, leaning all of her body weight on my arm so that its very difficult to type. And then she purrs.
If I ignore her long enough, she starts rubbing her head against my belly in an "Ah, mom..." kind of move. "Let's just turn out the lights and go to bed!"
Of course, she can be bribed. If the househunk comes out to the dining room and offers her treats, she out of here like a shot. After all, a treat is a treat. And a cat has to take treats when they're offered. Who knows? It might not happen again for a while.
I used to keep a bowl of water for her next to her food bowl, but our cat isn't into anything so pedestrian as a water bowl. Nope. She prefers to drink out of our table top fountain. She likes the sound of the burbling water, running over the stones. So every day I refill the fountain.
Animals are interesting additions to our homes, aren't they?
Well, she's back with as much of her body as possible planted on my arm. "Mo-m! It's time to go to bed!"
Anny
Please stop by Amarinda's Place and Kelly's Blog to see what they're up to. Kelly has the Saga. http://www.amarindajones.blogspot.com/ and http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/ Blessings on your day!
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Dress that Soldier!
Over the past few days, I've had several conversations with fellow writers about condoms. Oh, the excitement of a romance writer's life. Some writers admit trying to find a way "around" using a condom. Others skim over the action. And still others just refuse to use one at all.
That might be acceptable in a fantasy or futuristic world where there are no sexually transmitted diseases or where there is possibly the medical wherewithal to prevent STDs, but in the contemporary world we live in, both past and present, it isn't acceptable for me. I won't argue morality, because that's not what I'm discussing here. A condom automatically implies sexual activity. And the reverse should be true. Sexual activity automatically requires the use of a condom.
I've read many excuses for not using a condom. It stops the action. It interupts the story flow. It's awkward to dispose of afterwards. They don't need to use one because she's on the pill. They don't need to use one because he says he's "safe". Hogwash.
I have one simple reason for using one. It saves lives.
All that other stuff is just waffling around because the truth is, putting a condom on can be very sexy if you want it to be. Even with up-against-the-wall, hurry, hurry hot sex, there's a way to make the condom part of the action. And if writers can't find a creative way to do that, what kind of writers are they? If the writer is grown up enough to write about sex, then he or she should be able to handle a flimsy little thing like a condom with grace and humor. If not, then go back to writing sweet romances where all the action is behind a closed door.
I believe that romance writers have a responsibility to mirror reality. Reality is that death is a real possible consequence of unprotected sex. Someone very dear to me has an STD that will likely down the road lead to cervical cancer. Already she has pre-cancerous cells. She was infected by her ex-husband in her late teens or early twenties... they haven't been together in over five years. They thought they were "safe" because she was on the pill and married. She's twenty-nine.
I lost another friend to the complications of HIV. She was infected by her long-time lover. She was faithful. He wasn't. They were yuppies in their mid-thirties. She was forty-one when she died. We talked about this issue before she died. One time she said to me, "I'd like to tell all those young ladies out there that this is definitely not a romantic way to die. Screw romance. Use a condom."
As for disposal, well I would hope that the guy is mature enough to deal with it. That's what tissue and trashcans are for. But hey! That could be part of the action, too. Let the lady fetch a warm washcloth and clean up her man afterwards. There's no rule that says he has to do all the work. The important part has already taken place. They used a condom!
If you want to read a wonderful book that illustrates all of the above points, try Linda Howard's Moving Target. I don't particularly agree with the time that they didn't use one, but then they were trying to have a baby, which brings us to an entirely different subject--birth control. That one's for a different day.
Anny
Don't forget to drop by Kelly's blog at www.kkirch.blogspot.com to scope out the new episode of the Saga. And then scoot over to Amarinda's place at www.amarindajones.blogspot.com to see what she's up to. Blessings on your day!
That might be acceptable in a fantasy or futuristic world where there are no sexually transmitted diseases or where there is possibly the medical wherewithal to prevent STDs, but in the contemporary world we live in, both past and present, it isn't acceptable for me. I won't argue morality, because that's not what I'm discussing here. A condom automatically implies sexual activity. And the reverse should be true. Sexual activity automatically requires the use of a condom.
I've read many excuses for not using a condom. It stops the action. It interupts the story flow. It's awkward to dispose of afterwards. They don't need to use one because she's on the pill. They don't need to use one because he says he's "safe". Hogwash.
I have one simple reason for using one. It saves lives.
All that other stuff is just waffling around because the truth is, putting a condom on can be very sexy if you want it to be. Even with up-against-the-wall, hurry, hurry hot sex, there's a way to make the condom part of the action. And if writers can't find a creative way to do that, what kind of writers are they? If the writer is grown up enough to write about sex, then he or she should be able to handle a flimsy little thing like a condom with grace and humor. If not, then go back to writing sweet romances where all the action is behind a closed door.
I believe that romance writers have a responsibility to mirror reality. Reality is that death is a real possible consequence of unprotected sex. Someone very dear to me has an STD that will likely down the road lead to cervical cancer. Already she has pre-cancerous cells. She was infected by her ex-husband in her late teens or early twenties... they haven't been together in over five years. They thought they were "safe" because she was on the pill and married. She's twenty-nine.
I lost another friend to the complications of HIV. She was infected by her long-time lover. She was faithful. He wasn't. They were yuppies in their mid-thirties. She was forty-one when she died. We talked about this issue before she died. One time she said to me, "I'd like to tell all those young ladies out there that this is definitely not a romantic way to die. Screw romance. Use a condom."
As for disposal, well I would hope that the guy is mature enough to deal with it. That's what tissue and trashcans are for. But hey! That could be part of the action, too. Let the lady fetch a warm washcloth and clean up her man afterwards. There's no rule that says he has to do all the work. The important part has already taken place. They used a condom!
If you want to read a wonderful book that illustrates all of the above points, try Linda Howard's Moving Target. I don't particularly agree with the time that they didn't use one, but then they were trying to have a baby, which brings us to an entirely different subject--birth control. That one's for a different day.
Anny
Don't forget to drop by Kelly's blog at www.kkirch.blogspot.com to scope out the new episode of the Saga. And then scoot over to Amarinda's place at www.amarindajones.blogspot.com to see what she's up to. Blessings on your day!
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
This and That AND the Saga
I'm trying to convince the house hunk that he could be a spectacular admin-assistant. He's good on the phone. I could teach him to file. He already schedules all the doctor appointments. What else is there?I need a secretary to file papers and update my notes. I think I must have four weeks worth of odds and ends to file, update, or throw away. Am I the only one with mounds of stickies? And receipts! I have piles of receipts and it's almost tax time.
I was going through my receipts and only now discovered that Borders doesn't list the book titles on your receipt. How am I going to claim that Kama Sutra book and deck of cards? Gee, sir, I, uh... Snort!
Today I am going to the hospital with my friend. While she visits with her house-mate, I will take a briefcase full of stuff and work on sorting it all out. I'll also take a couple pads of sticky notes to make notations on each item so my time is not completely wasted when I can't remember why something was in a particular pile. When I finish it, I'll feel virtuous for oh, six minutes and then I'll begin to fret over when I'm going to get to it once I'm back home. Sometimes it's easier to just leave it in a jumbled mess. By the time I've relocated it, I didn't need it anyway.
Speaking of Kama Sutra--I did use those cards in my writing. My editor just offered me a contract for my latest submission Kama Sutra Lovers.
I also used the Encyclopedia of Magical Creatures for my books Daffodil and Honeysuckle. I wonder if the IRS considers that a business expense? What if they have to read the books to check if I really used them. Hmmm. This could be a good thing. Readers are where you find them.
My cat is sitting on the desk with the front of her body plus paws holding down my left arm. It tends to make typing tough. I believe the message is, "Time for bed." So on that note...
Yesterday on the Saga, Amarinda left us here:
Emmeline looked at Zoltan. They wanted a male. “Oh yes, Zoltan by all mean let’s help them.” She watched as he was dragged to his feet.
“Emmeline, those diamonds belong to both of us.”
“Sorry what? I can’t hear you over the drums.”
And this is my offering:
The drums beat louder, then fell silent. The village women formed a circle around Emmeline and began to close in on her. Rapid realization dawned on Emmeline that Zoltan was not he only one in danger. She edged her peeler from the holster and pointed it first at one, then another of the women, spinning around to prevent them from jumping her from the rear.
Inexorably, they silently advanced. Just as they fell on her as a group, the drums began a wild rhythm and the men began to howl and dance.
A thundering boom shook the village huts as the gathering hut exploded into flames. The women broke away from Emmeline, pelting through the village into the rain forest. Emmeline sat up and stared at the chaos around her. The gathering hut, located in a huge clearing in the center of the village, miraculously burned to the ground without sparking any other fires.
Through the smoke, two men accompanied by a woman, strode up to Emmeline. The men grinned down at her while the woman glanced casually around to see if she could spot Zoltan.
“Well, warrior woman?” Rafe prodded with a laugh. “What happened to you?”
“I thought you could beat all comers,” jibed Shade. “You and the peeler were invincible.”
Emmeline smacked her forehead with her fist. “What on earth are you doing here?” she demanded coldly.
“We're just here for the diamonds,” Rinalda said, putting in her two cents. “So hand ‘em over.”
Anny
Don't forget to drop by Amarinda's blog for her take on Aussie life at http://www.amarindajones.blogspot.com/ and then hop over to see what Kelly's up to at http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/ And then of course, Blessings on your day!
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Melody of the Heart
Have you ever heard a piece of music that filled your heart so that it nearly stopped... that your chest ached with the beauty of it? Yesterday I was listening to a CD I haven't listened to in a long time while cleaning and moving furniture and writing. I had forgotten about the two or three songs on the CD that affected me that way. I stopped what I was doing and sat down to just listen.
In this day and age of loud rowdy music, it's rarer and rarer to be struck by the sheer beauty of a piece of music. As I sat there it came to me that I needed to take the time to just listen, soaking in the majesty of the soaring notes that swelled in the air. It was something that my soul needed and without it, I was less than I needed to be.
For some, music fills the soul. For others it is laughter or art or a sunset. Whatever it is, if we don't take time to nourish our heart and soul, it leaves it hungering, hungering in a way that no loved one can fill. Those things may be around us, but if we don't stop, just stop and take that beauty in, then we miss it. Whatever that thing might be, it requires complete attention.
Have you noticed that everything we do, we allow distractions to rob us? We work on the computer while watching tv or listening to music. We drive while listening to the radio or talking on a cell phone. Reading is often accompanied by the low drone of tv in the background. But never do we stop what we're doing and just give one thing our total attention.
That's a skill we need to cultivate in our hurry up and wait culture. Even while talking to a friend or our spouse our inner consciousness is busy planning the evening meal or what we have to accomplish today. While we read that bedtime story to our children, we don't really "hear" the words because familiarity has dulled our senses. Instead as we mouth those words, we're trying to remember if we have enough clean underwear for work tomorrow.
There are times that this skill is useful. I've been there. Thinking while washing dishes or vacuuming or doing the laundry can provide valuable time to work out that knot in your plot. But we also need to find time in our day to nourish our soul. How long is a song? Five minutes? Surely in our busy day, we can find five minutes to listen to music, or feast on the vivid colors of a painting or really, really look at those pictures gathering dust on the dresser and remember how happy we were when they were snapped.
Many years ago when I was a young mother, my husband was away on a transfer. After the children were in bed, I lighted a couple of candles, turned the lamps off, and listened to a certain CD that I still love to this day. Time slowed down. The chaos of the day faded away as I let the music sing into my soul, preparing me for sleep so that I could face a new day. It is a lesson that I forgot. But I will not forget again. I will feed my soul with beauty.
Anny
Don't forget to drop my Amarinda's blog where she has the Saga and has promised to waffle on about general stuff. www.amarindajones.blogspot.com And then hop over to Kelly's blog where she will no doubt have some good stuff for us. www.kkirch.blogspot.com Blessings on your day!
In this day and age of loud rowdy music, it's rarer and rarer to be struck by the sheer beauty of a piece of music. As I sat there it came to me that I needed to take the time to just listen, soaking in the majesty of the soaring notes that swelled in the air. It was something that my soul needed and without it, I was less than I needed to be.
For some, music fills the soul. For others it is laughter or art or a sunset. Whatever it is, if we don't take time to nourish our heart and soul, it leaves it hungering, hungering in a way that no loved one can fill. Those things may be around us, but if we don't stop, just stop and take that beauty in, then we miss it. Whatever that thing might be, it requires complete attention.
Have you noticed that everything we do, we allow distractions to rob us? We work on the computer while watching tv or listening to music. We drive while listening to the radio or talking on a cell phone. Reading is often accompanied by the low drone of tv in the background. But never do we stop what we're doing and just give one thing our total attention.
That's a skill we need to cultivate in our hurry up and wait culture. Even while talking to a friend or our spouse our inner consciousness is busy planning the evening meal or what we have to accomplish today. While we read that bedtime story to our children, we don't really "hear" the words because familiarity has dulled our senses. Instead as we mouth those words, we're trying to remember if we have enough clean underwear for work tomorrow.
There are times that this skill is useful. I've been there. Thinking while washing dishes or vacuuming or doing the laundry can provide valuable time to work out that knot in your plot. But we also need to find time in our day to nourish our soul. How long is a song? Five minutes? Surely in our busy day, we can find five minutes to listen to music, or feast on the vivid colors of a painting or really, really look at those pictures gathering dust on the dresser and remember how happy we were when they were snapped.
Many years ago when I was a young mother, my husband was away on a transfer. After the children were in bed, I lighted a couple of candles, turned the lamps off, and listened to a certain CD that I still love to this day. Time slowed down. The chaos of the day faded away as I let the music sing into my soul, preparing me for sleep so that I could face a new day. It is a lesson that I forgot. But I will not forget again. I will feed my soul with beauty.
Anny
Don't forget to drop my Amarinda's blog where she has the Saga and has promised to waffle on about general stuff. www.amarindajones.blogspot.com And then hop over to Kelly's blog where she will no doubt have some good stuff for us. www.kkirch.blogspot.com Blessings on your day!
Monday, January 7, 2008
Adventures in shopping
The last two days I've been shopping. When you reach my age, if shopping lasts very long, you inevitably must find a restroom. I had occasion to visit several during my shopping sprees. The first few were no prizes, but the last one nearly did me in. I had visions of some one calling 9-1-1 thus exposing me to the acute embarrassment of have some nice hot firemen having to extract me from the miniscule stall, rescuing me literally with my pants down. Ugh.What on earth are these people thinking when they install ladies' toilets?
First of all, I'm still waiting to encounter a warm restroom. At my last job, my co-workers and I had a contest going for the coldest restroom. The local Pizza Hut won when we found that we could see our breath when we exhaled on encountering the ice cold seat. Brrrr. Surely it can't cost that much to heat a dinky little bathroom.
Secondly, there are those restrooms that use automatically flushing toilets. My friend and I had occassion to visit the public restrooms in a mall the last time we went shopping. Her toilet would not quit flushing. We estimated that it used enough water to provide Amarinda with one of her three minute showers--with water left over. That bugger just ran and ran and ran...
I'm not even going to discuss matters of public restroom hygiene. But there is something that bugs me. Why are the toilet tissue dispensers installed so low on the wall that you have to fold up like a pretzel in order to pick off a few meager sheets? I don't need to see my feet when I'm on the porcelain throne!
Until yesterday I thought my number one complaint was the size of the stall. Hello! Everyone isn't built like Twiggy! There are some stalls that have the walls so close to the toilet that you have to raise your arms over your head to sit down. These are usually the same stalls that have the toilet paper dispenser down low to the ground near the door. I've learned to scope out the surroundings before sitting down. I have a little routine. Get the toilet paper first. If the installer was truly fiendish, he also installed the door so that is barely clears the toilet when it swings open. In that case, you must first straddle the toilet so that you can shut the door! Hundred percent chance it was a man that installed it. There's more than one way to get back at women.
Last evening, a new humiliation was visited on me. The toilet was so low to the ground that I swear it was a kiddy toilet. I have lousy knees that don't bend worth a damn. When you are sitting, you use your knees to stand up. So there I was sitting on this toilet that was waaaaay down yonder. When I tried to stand up? Nope, the knees weren't going there. So I sat there a couple minutes trying to decide what to do.
Tried again. Nope. Still sitting there with my feet slowly going to sleep. Then the vision of the 9-1-1 guys came to me. I just couldn't face the idea of foxy firemen hauling my bare butt out of there so I tried one more time. Success! Of course, I still had to straddle the toilet to get the door open, but hey! I was out of there!
On Saturday, I
decided to spring for a bigger work table for my "desk". And then on Sunday of course, everything had to be moved to the new table. It's never that simple. After some discussion the house hunk and I decided that we also needed a new area rug for that portion of the room. When you rent an apartment, for some insane reason known only to God, the apartment people invariably install pale beige carpet throughout the apartment.
There is no easy way to keep pale beige carpet clean. None. Two days after moving in, I hit on the notion of covering all the floors with large area rugs. I like color. Lots of color. So when I went out to buy area rugs, I bought a variety in coordinating colors and slapped them down.
The rearrangment of my desk left a previously covered portion of the carpet hanging out there--bare naked beige carpet. Oh, the horror! House hunk and I immediately shot off to Walmart and picked out a new area rug to throw down and cover up the boring beige. It's sort of a toned down pomegranate red. Yum.
Rug's down, desk is rearranged and the computer is reassembled. Of course, there are all those piles of papers, notebooks, bills, receipts to file, but I'm a veteran vertical filer so that's for tomorrow... or the day after that.
Anny
Don't forget to stop by Kelly's Place at http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/ to check out the Saga, her version of the romantic potato, and her B&E story. Then pop over to Amarinda's blog at http://www.amarindajones.blogspot.com/ to find out what she's been up to. Ask her about Cyclone Helen. Leave cryptic comments. Blessings on your day!
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Mash me, baby!
2008 is the UN Year of the Potato I challenge you to bring a loveable, romantic potato into your blog in honor of that!---H, our editor
Masher McArthur stretched his burly body and wedged his back against the side of the hot tub while he watched Scallop Ziemniak slowly ease into the steaming water. Her smooth curves glistened in the gentle bubbles. He inhaled her luscious scent and savored the anticipation that skittered up his spine.
Tonight he had plans for Scallop. Hot lusty plans. First the hot tub. When he had her softened up, he would drizzle her with fragrant oil and they would bake a while side by side, like two French fries in an oven.
Ah, yes, the touch of her body next to his…
“Masher, what on earth are you thinking?” Scallop demanded. “Your eyes are drooping!”
“Just you and me, baby. I’m gonna cover and smother you so well you’ll never think of that puny Yukon Goldie again!”
“Oh, Masher,” she sighed. “Don’t you know that I love every handsome russet inch of your body? Your warm tan skin smells so earthy and feels so rough. It drives me wild when you grate against me. Are you ready to leave the tub?”
Masher reached for her and gently poked her dark red skin. “Yep, I would say that we’re definitely done. Time for the milk and butter bath.”
Scallop joyfully embraced him before hopping out of the tub. “Hurry up! I can’t wait! Mash me, baby!”
Masher McArthur stretched his burly body and wedged his back against the side of the hot tub while he watched Scallop Ziemniak slowly ease into the steaming water. Her smooth curves glistened in the gentle bubbles. He inhaled her luscious scent and savored the anticipation that skittered up his spine.
Tonight he had plans for Scallop. Hot lusty plans. First the hot tub. When he had her softened up, he would drizzle her with fragrant oil and they would bake a while side by side, like two French fries in an oven.
Ah, yes, the touch of her body next to his…
“Masher, what on earth are you thinking?” Scallop demanded. “Your eyes are drooping!”
“Just you and me, baby. I’m gonna cover and smother you so well you’ll never think of that puny Yukon Goldie again!”
“Oh, Masher,” she sighed. “Don’t you know that I love every handsome russet inch of your body? Your warm tan skin smells so earthy and feels so rough. It drives me wild when you grate against me. Are you ready to leave the tub?”
Masher reached for her and gently poked her dark red skin. “Yep, I would say that we’re definitely done. Time for the milk and butter bath.”
Scallop joyfully embraced him before hopping out of the tub. “Hurry up! I can’t wait! Mash me, baby!”
Anny
Trot on over and see what Amarinda at http://www.amarindajones.blogspot.com/ has come up with to celebrate the potato. And then check out Kelly's Sunday Quote at http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/ and of course--Blessings on your day!
Saturday, January 5, 2008
The Very Best Of...
I am launching a new weekly feature on my blog titled The Very Best of...It could be a CD, Movie, Story, Interview, or whatever. Today's feature author is Amarinda Jones.
Amarinda Jones!
When the hot, sexy guy intimately caressing Celestine in her dreams turns out to be a real live man in her bed, is it moonlight madness or is she just one very lucky girl? Should she be offended this man just wants a moonlight ride with any available woman or let him take her as her heart's desire?
The woman in Nick's arms is different from any he has ever tasted before. Seducing Celestine into submission becomes one sexy challenge he cannot resist. But someone else wants Celestine and it has nothing to do with sex.Can lust be love?
Can she stay out of trouble long enough to find out?
http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419911576
I really enjoyed this book! Celestine is one down-on-her-luck gal who refuses to give in or give up. And Nick is smart enough to recognize that she's the woman for him so he hangs in there until Celestine finally works out that he's the man for her.
I always love when a new book by Amarinda is released because I know that I'm in for fun, intrigue, and love. Seducing Celestine is no exception. If you want to know more about the book just click on the link above!
The Synonym Finder by J I Rodale ISBN 0878572368
Ah, where would I be without the Synonym Finder? Lost, lost, lost. It's a hefty one thousand three hundred and sixty one pages of words. Can't think of the right word? Have one that doesn't quite fit? Haul out the handy-dandy Synonym Finder and look up that "almost, but not quite right" word. In ninety-seven percent of the cases, I find the correct word on the first try. And that's a good thing because if I have to go hunting through the other pages, I just might not get back to writing for a while.
I once had to change the word "spanking" that was sprinkled through one of my books. After scratching my head in dismay, I looked up spank in my Synonym Finder. Really, there are all sorts of ways to express the same idea. On sentence in particular took on an entirely different meaning... "If you don't behave I may have to give you a licking!" Hmmm. That conjures up all sorts of possibilities.
I have three copies of The Synonym Finder. One that I used to death so that now it's tied together with string. One is a paperback copy. And my current desk copy--a hardback. If you're in the market for an indispensable writing tool, check out The Synonym Finder.
Awake by Josh Groban
If you want a CD to just sit back and dream or write to... anything by Josh Groban will be just fine. But I particularly love Awake. It has an a capella lullaby that I could listen to over and over.
Who am I kidding? I could listen to him sing the yellow pages. My granddaughter (aged seven at the time when his first CD was released) would sing along with him in Italian, French, Spanish... Did she know those languages? Heck, no, but she fell in love with Josh and she could spend hours watching his concert videos.
So it's a really nice change when you can at least pretend that you can understand the words. And for the writers--all of his CDs are nice to listen to while writing because they're passionate and romantic. And don't we all want more passion and romance?
Anny
Kelly is home at last so don't forget to stop by for her take on being home at http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/ and then hop on over to Amarinda's Place to see what she's been up to at http://www.amarindajones.blogspot.com/ and then of course--Blessings on your day!
Friday, January 4, 2008
Questions and Answers from the Mailbag
"Where do you get your ideas?"
It isn't a matter of getting an idea. It's the act of snatching one out of the writhing mess of ideas and pinning it down. Ideas are slippery as snakes and twice as wriggly. Fastening it down in place so you can actually study it is a messy, tricky business. Once it's under control, it may not be a useful idea after all. Sometimes you have to toss it back into the pile like a fish that's too small so it can grow up into something you can use later.
"How many books do you think you'll write?"
Do you know? I'll probably write until I run out of ideas. Until someone asked me this question, it never occurred to me that I would quit writing before I reached that stage where I couldn't type or had dementia or something like that. But I know of authors who just quit writing. My favorite authors in the world, Tom and Sharon Curtis, retired not too long after they won the Rita for their work. I don't know why and of course, it's not really any business of mine except that I really miss their books. But clearly, they weren't giving up because no one liked them. So all things being equal, I'll write until I don't have anything to say.
"How important are reviews?"
Hmmm. Most readers say that reviews don't influence their book purchases. And likely, they don't. I know that I don't even read the reviews unless they're for a friend's book. However reviews are fairly important to the writer, I think. No matter how much we know that they are only one person's opionion, that opionion can still cut. I have had reviews that were clearly written by someone that did not like my book. One review was so off the wall that I considered that the reviewer might have mixed up my book and someone elses. I think it's hard not to be touched on some level by a review, but it has nothing to do with how many books you sell.
"Why do you write series?"
Mostly I write series because that's how the ideas arrive. Very rarely do I have an idea about one couple. Almost all the time the idea is about a group. Maybe it's a family. Maybe it's the inhabitants in a certain place. But for me, if there is any potential of a series, then I set it up as a series to begin with...maps, character sheets, world building. Then the background is set just in case--just in case a bunch of characters come knocking on my door.
"Is there any genre of book you would never write?"
Well, I won't ever say never. I'll say that it's highly unlikely that I'll ever write a horror type book. And probably, I'll never write a historical simply because of the enormous amount of research necessary. I shudder when I think about doing that kind of research. Most likely I won't write a straight romance because I've never found a story that engaged my imagination enough to keep me from being bored. I just know myself well enough to know that I wouldn't finish writing the book. I have a very intriguing contemporary series that I can't seem to get off the ground. I might surprise myself and actually finish the first book.
"When did you decide to be a writer?"
I've always been a writer. If you sit down and write, then you're a writer. Now if you want to know when I decided that I would like someone to pay me to write... then that's a different kettle of fish. In January 2005 I decided to write the story that had been rumbling around in my head for the last twenty years. I finished it in March of that year and it was over 170 thousand words. Over the next year, I "tinkered" with it, never substantially changing it in any way. And I started book two. Book two is over 36K--so far. Then I started looking at submission guidelines and discovered that I needed to considerably downsize my masterpiece.
After some old-fashioned hand wringing and whining, I took chunks of that original book, revised it with a meat cleaver and submitted it to Ellora's Cave in September 2006 as Dancer's Delight. In November I was offered a contract with EC's sister press, Cerridwen Press. Ta-da.
That original 170K book will probably yield the ideas for seven or eight books. And book two has at least three more. Those are all the Mystic Valley books. I guess that means I'm a real writer.
"What is the hardest part of writing?"
I bet you think I'll say something like finding time to write or discipline to sit down at the computer or finding ideas. You would be wrong. The hardest part is all the extraneous stuff. Promotion, website, blog, chat loops, and all those other things that rob you of time to write. Yet without them, you don't have readers and without readers you don't sell books. Yes, I enjoy chatting and I enjoy writing a blog. But I admit that those things take time. And for all the time they take, there is not an immediate result. There's no way to quantify which efforts are the most effective. So as a writer, I just keep plugging away. That's hard.
"What is your favorite part of writing?"
No question there. Reader reactions. When readers finish a book and send me a note telling me how much they enjoyed it that makes my day--maybe even my week. That's the thing that makes it worth it. Yes, it's very nice to get that royalty check. But there won't be a royalty check if my readers are not engaged by my books. So that's the best thing. Reader's letters and comments.
Anny
Don't forget to stop by Amarinda's World at www.amarindajones.blogspot.com and Kelly's travelogue at www.kkirch.blogspot.com . Blessings on your day!
It isn't a matter of getting an idea. It's the act of snatching one out of the writhing mess of ideas and pinning it down. Ideas are slippery as snakes and twice as wriggly. Fastening it down in place so you can actually study it is a messy, tricky business. Once it's under control, it may not be a useful idea after all. Sometimes you have to toss it back into the pile like a fish that's too small so it can grow up into something you can use later.
"How many books do you think you'll write?"
Do you know? I'll probably write until I run out of ideas. Until someone asked me this question, it never occurred to me that I would quit writing before I reached that stage where I couldn't type or had dementia or something like that. But I know of authors who just quit writing. My favorite authors in the world, Tom and Sharon Curtis, retired not too long after they won the Rita for their work. I don't know why and of course, it's not really any business of mine except that I really miss their books. But clearly, they weren't giving up because no one liked them. So all things being equal, I'll write until I don't have anything to say.
"How important are reviews?"
Hmmm. Most readers say that reviews don't influence their book purchases. And likely, they don't. I know that I don't even read the reviews unless they're for a friend's book. However reviews are fairly important to the writer, I think. No matter how much we know that they are only one person's opionion, that opionion can still cut. I have had reviews that were clearly written by someone that did not like my book. One review was so off the wall that I considered that the reviewer might have mixed up my book and someone elses. I think it's hard not to be touched on some level by a review, but it has nothing to do with how many books you sell.
"Why do you write series?"
Mostly I write series because that's how the ideas arrive. Very rarely do I have an idea about one couple. Almost all the time the idea is about a group. Maybe it's a family. Maybe it's the inhabitants in a certain place. But for me, if there is any potential of a series, then I set it up as a series to begin with...maps, character sheets, world building. Then the background is set just in case--just in case a bunch of characters come knocking on my door.
"Is there any genre of book you would never write?"
Well, I won't ever say never. I'll say that it's highly unlikely that I'll ever write a horror type book. And probably, I'll never write a historical simply because of the enormous amount of research necessary. I shudder when I think about doing that kind of research. Most likely I won't write a straight romance because I've never found a story that engaged my imagination enough to keep me from being bored. I just know myself well enough to know that I wouldn't finish writing the book. I have a very intriguing contemporary series that I can't seem to get off the ground. I might surprise myself and actually finish the first book.
"When did you decide to be a writer?"
I've always been a writer. If you sit down and write, then you're a writer. Now if you want to know when I decided that I would like someone to pay me to write... then that's a different kettle of fish. In January 2005 I decided to write the story that had been rumbling around in my head for the last twenty years. I finished it in March of that year and it was over 170 thousand words. Over the next year, I "tinkered" with it, never substantially changing it in any way. And I started book two. Book two is over 36K--so far. Then I started looking at submission guidelines and discovered that I needed to considerably downsize my masterpiece.
After some old-fashioned hand wringing and whining, I took chunks of that original book, revised it with a meat cleaver and submitted it to Ellora's Cave in September 2006 as Dancer's Delight. In November I was offered a contract with EC's sister press, Cerridwen Press. Ta-da.
That original 170K book will probably yield the ideas for seven or eight books. And book two has at least three more. Those are all the Mystic Valley books. I guess that means I'm a real writer.
"What is the hardest part of writing?"
I bet you think I'll say something like finding time to write or discipline to sit down at the computer or finding ideas. You would be wrong. The hardest part is all the extraneous stuff. Promotion, website, blog, chat loops, and all those other things that rob you of time to write. Yet without them, you don't have readers and without readers you don't sell books. Yes, I enjoy chatting and I enjoy writing a blog. But I admit that those things take time. And for all the time they take, there is not an immediate result. There's no way to quantify which efforts are the most effective. So as a writer, I just keep plugging away. That's hard.
"What is your favorite part of writing?"
No question there. Reader reactions. When readers finish a book and send me a note telling me how much they enjoyed it that makes my day--maybe even my week. That's the thing that makes it worth it. Yes, it's very nice to get that royalty check. But there won't be a royalty check if my readers are not engaged by my books. So that's the best thing. Reader's letters and comments.
Anny
Don't forget to stop by Amarinda's World at www.amarindajones.blogspot.com and Kelly's travelogue at www.kkirch.blogspot.com . Blessings on your day!
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Shoving the Block out of the Way
Today, I began work on the next book in my Mystic Valley series, Love at Last. Immediately, I ran into trouble, of course. Since there is a sprawling cast of characters, several villages and a glossary of Valley words, every single addition and change has to be added to the various tables where I keep information. Sigh.
So I added two words, three minor characters, and a couple of houses. It appears that I will need to also draw a map as the action for the first part of the book takes place at Dai's Hamlet. In the interest of consistancy, I'll need to draw a map and describe each house, building, garden, etc. Sigh.
What was I thinking when I embarked on a series? Ah, yes, I wasn't thinking. Barely finished the prologue so far. I expect things will get interesting by the time I'm nearing the end of the book. I'm mostly a panster writer with a few plans on the side. And some extensive records.
Today I decided to change my webpage. After experimenting with Paint for a while, I put the result up on the webpage until I can find the time to actually do a drawing with chalk. If you've a mind to go have a look, then check it out at http://www.annycook.com/. I have a neighbor who draws beautifully. If I can catch him long enough, I'll ask him to draw a couple of dragons and pop them on there. In the meantime, I'll just have to muddle along on my own.
This evening I received an e-mail from an old friend I attended high school with forty years ago. Argh. That sounds like a very long time ago! Anyway, she sent me a link to a video tour of our old high school. Apparently, now prospective students can go on line and check out the high school before they show up on their first day.
The interesting thing? The place hasn't changed much. Amazing. If I ever go back to Chicago during the school year, I may go for a visit. One thing that has changed--I noticed every single person had an ID tag on a lanyard around their neck. Now that just plain freaked me out.
My friend also sent me a newsy newsletter with all sorts of gossipy stuff about students from the 60's... yeah, I graduated in the sixties. Strangely enough, I vaguely recognized a name or two. Didn't expect to, but I did.
The more things change, the more they remain the same.
Anny
Drop by and check on Amarinda at http://www.amarindajones.blogspot.com/ and Kelly at http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/. Blessings on your day, wherever you are.
So I added two words, three minor characters, and a couple of houses. It appears that I will need to also draw a map as the action for the first part of the book takes place at Dai's Hamlet. In the interest of consistancy, I'll need to draw a map and describe each house, building, garden, etc. Sigh.
What was I thinking when I embarked on a series? Ah, yes, I wasn't thinking. Barely finished the prologue so far. I expect things will get interesting by the time I'm nearing the end of the book. I'm mostly a panster writer with a few plans on the side. And some extensive records.
Today I decided to change my webpage. After experimenting with Paint for a while, I put the result up on the webpage until I can find the time to actually do a drawing with chalk. If you've a mind to go have a look, then check it out at http://www.annycook.com/. I have a neighbor who draws beautifully. If I can catch him long enough, I'll ask him to draw a couple of dragons and pop them on there. In the meantime, I'll just have to muddle along on my own.
This evening I received an e-mail from an old friend I attended high school with forty years ago. Argh. That sounds like a very long time ago! Anyway, she sent me a link to a video tour of our old high school. Apparently, now prospective students can go on line and check out the high school before they show up on their first day.
The interesting thing? The place hasn't changed much. Amazing. If I ever go back to Chicago during the school year, I may go for a visit. One thing that has changed--I noticed every single person had an ID tag on a lanyard around their neck. Now that just plain freaked me out.
My friend also sent me a newsy newsletter with all sorts of gossipy stuff about students from the 60's... yeah, I graduated in the sixties. Strangely enough, I vaguely recognized a name or two. Didn't expect to, but I did.
The more things change, the more they remain the same.
Anny
Drop by and check on Amarinda at http://www.amarindajones.blogspot.com/ and Kelly at http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/. Blessings on your day, wherever you are.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
The Second Day
Well, here I sit waiting for inspiration to come bash me over the head. And nothing is happening. A writer with nothing to say is like a climber with no mountain or a doctor with no patients. You're pretty much useless.
At the moment, I'm sitting here with a million ideas churning around in my head, pummeling to escape and yet... I can't seem to capture even one of them at the moment. I think it's because I'm both too full and too empty after the holidays. There is so much ambivalence connected to the end of the year. There's a sadness to see the year end tempered with relief and joy--especially if the year has been a wild roller-coaster ride like mine.
And feelings about the new year are just as confused. There's hope for a new beginning and trepidation about what new hardship or disaster might strike. Uncertainty wars with faith in the future. Am I the only one unable to settle down?
These are murky thoughts in the cold middle of the night on this second day of 2008. What do I want from this new year?
Peace. Oh I know that global peace is what everyone professes to want. I would settle for peace between neighbors and family members. That would be good.
Health. That one isn't so easy. It will require some commitment from me and that's a word I don't toss around lightly. Ugh. Will this be the year that I commit to taking care of myself? Perhaps. I really don't want to wait until some terribly scary thing happens that involves needles and IVs and such.
The Story. I know that this is going to sound weird but I believe that every author has at least one story that is their destiny. Now I'm not talking about the infamous "story of their heart". I'm talking about a story that they are destined to write. It might even be a story that they don't want to write. But I would like to have the opportunity to work on The Story.
It's cold here and windy as it should be in January. Before we know it, it will be summer again. Perhaps that's the scariest thing of all--the speed with which the days zoom by. It seems that time passed slower when I was younger and now its gathering speed as I get older. Where did the time go?
Anny
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
www.kkirch.blogspot.com
At the moment, I'm sitting here with a million ideas churning around in my head, pummeling to escape and yet... I can't seem to capture even one of them at the moment. I think it's because I'm both too full and too empty after the holidays. There is so much ambivalence connected to the end of the year. There's a sadness to see the year end tempered with relief and joy--especially if the year has been a wild roller-coaster ride like mine.
And feelings about the new year are just as confused. There's hope for a new beginning and trepidation about what new hardship or disaster might strike. Uncertainty wars with faith in the future. Am I the only one unable to settle down?
These are murky thoughts in the cold middle of the night on this second day of 2008. What do I want from this new year?
Peace. Oh I know that global peace is what everyone professes to want. I would settle for peace between neighbors and family members. That would be good.
Health. That one isn't so easy. It will require some commitment from me and that's a word I don't toss around lightly. Ugh. Will this be the year that I commit to taking care of myself? Perhaps. I really don't want to wait until some terribly scary thing happens that involves needles and IVs and such.
The Story. I know that this is going to sound weird but I believe that every author has at least one story that is their destiny. Now I'm not talking about the infamous "story of their heart". I'm talking about a story that they are destined to write. It might even be a story that they don't want to write. But I would like to have the opportunity to work on The Story.
It's cold here and windy as it should be in January. Before we know it, it will be summer again. Perhaps that's the scariest thing of all--the speed with which the days zoom by. It seems that time passed slower when I was younger and now its gathering speed as I get older. Where did the time go?
Anny
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
www.kkirch.blogspot.com
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Hello 2008
Hello, New Year! What do you suppose it is about the New Year that we find so hopeful? Why all the traditions attached to ushering in the New Year? I started a new tradition last night by sleeping in the New Year. I was simply too tired to stay awake and that's unusual for me as I'm normally up every night to write my blog.
Anyway, here I am, almost awake ten hours later. The sun was shining a few minutes ago when I crawled out of bed, but now the sky is dark so I suppose that's a portent of rain or snow. Suddenly the lights inside appear to shine brighter. And my windchimes are clanging as the wind picks up.
To me, the traditions always seems backwards. Instead of celebrating on the last day of the year, why not celebrate the first day of the year. Why has it turned into a football celebration by default? I have nothing against football as long as I don't have to watch it, but like that old Peggy Lee song..."Is that all there is?"
Of course, according to the Girl Scout rule--she who complains is in charge next time--its up to me to come up with some new traditions. As you might imagine, there were few complaints when I was in Girl Scouts!
1) Greet the dawn with a prayer for the new year. Two things--this would likely work best if the celebrant goes to bed early and prayer seems a more practical way to face the new year than getting drunk.
2) Empty out the pantry by donating all unopened foodstuffs to a food pantry. This would serve two ways: One, the food pantries are empty this time of year, and two, everyone would start those New Year diets without tempting stuff in the pantry.
3) Same for the closets. Donate those clothes you haven't worn in three years to someone who desperately needs them. Then when your diet is successful, you'll have room for the new clothes.
4) Begin a journal--online or with pen and ink. Next year on New Years Day take time to read the journal and note your progress--or lack of it. Either way, it's a concrete way to really understand where you've been and decide where you want to be. Note**! Some people call this a "blog"! So if you do a blog, you accomplish two things at once!
5) Make one new friend or reconnect with an old one. You can never have enough friends. This isn't an acquaintance you meet at the grocery story. This friend is someone you can talk over both good times and bad. Imagine what would happen if you made a new friend every year. You would never be alone unless you wanted to. And besides... what else are you doing today?
6) Go for a walk and appreciate God's handiwork. If we don't make some changes in our lifestyles this may be the best it ever is. Catch a glimpse of it while you can. Some people think this time of year is dreary, but I figure that this is the time of year you can really see the bare bones of creation without the fancy dressing of spring or summer.
7) Give thanks for the life you have. Waking up every day is a gift.
Anny
Drop by Amarinda's place at www.amarindajones.blogspot.com to catch her take on life and then stroll by Kelly's place at www.kkirch.blogspot.com to find out if she found a new computer. Blessings on your new day!
Anyway, here I am, almost awake ten hours later. The sun was shining a few minutes ago when I crawled out of bed, but now the sky is dark so I suppose that's a portent of rain or snow. Suddenly the lights inside appear to shine brighter. And my windchimes are clanging as the wind picks up.
To me, the traditions always seems backwards. Instead of celebrating on the last day of the year, why not celebrate the first day of the year. Why has it turned into a football celebration by default? I have nothing against football as long as I don't have to watch it, but like that old Peggy Lee song..."Is that all there is?"
Of course, according to the Girl Scout rule--she who complains is in charge next time--its up to me to come up with some new traditions. As you might imagine, there were few complaints when I was in Girl Scouts!
1) Greet the dawn with a prayer for the new year. Two things--this would likely work best if the celebrant goes to bed early and prayer seems a more practical way to face the new year than getting drunk.
2) Empty out the pantry by donating all unopened foodstuffs to a food pantry. This would serve two ways: One, the food pantries are empty this time of year, and two, everyone would start those New Year diets without tempting stuff in the pantry.
3) Same for the closets. Donate those clothes you haven't worn in three years to someone who desperately needs them. Then when your diet is successful, you'll have room for the new clothes.
4) Begin a journal--online or with pen and ink. Next year on New Years Day take time to read the journal and note your progress--or lack of it. Either way, it's a concrete way to really understand where you've been and decide where you want to be. Note**! Some people call this a "blog"! So if you do a blog, you accomplish two things at once!
5) Make one new friend or reconnect with an old one. You can never have enough friends. This isn't an acquaintance you meet at the grocery story. This friend is someone you can talk over both good times and bad. Imagine what would happen if you made a new friend every year. You would never be alone unless you wanted to. And besides... what else are you doing today?
6) Go for a walk and appreciate God's handiwork. If we don't make some changes in our lifestyles this may be the best it ever is. Catch a glimpse of it while you can. Some people think this time of year is dreary, but I figure that this is the time of year you can really see the bare bones of creation without the fancy dressing of spring or summer.
7) Give thanks for the life you have. Waking up every day is a gift.
Anny
Drop by Amarinda's place at www.amarindajones.blogspot.com to catch her take on life and then stroll by Kelly's place at www.kkirch.blogspot.com to find out if she found a new computer. Blessings on your new day!
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