Nov 22, 2007 | Life |
I don't feel Grinchy, but I couldn't resist the pic of the Grinch carving the roast beast. My turkey is in the oven, the pumpkin pie is made, and the dishes I've used so far are washed.
This year, for the first time in the many years we've been married, we're having both sets of parents together for Thanksgiving.
Not getting any writing done this week, which doesn't make me happy, but I'll just have to burn the midnight oil next week. Ah well.
And now I must get back to the holiday grind! Potatoes to cook, veggies to prepare, etc. Hope your Thanksgiving is grand. 🙂
**Edited to remove picture.
Nov 16, 2007 | Books |
Fellow Heart of Dixie chapter member Linda Winstead Jones is in the running for Best Romance Novel of 2007 on Amazon.com! Her book, Raintree: Haunted was one of the Raintree trilogy stories (Linda Howard and Beverly Barton wrote the other two). If you read and loved the series, you can vote for her here.
Nov 16, 2007 | Hunks, Life, Photos, Writing |
Does it get any better? I'm admittedly behind the times with television, but when I saw this guy on my favorite channel, HGTV, my brain just kind of stopped working. 🙂 Carter Oosterhouse, carpenter, model, and humanitarian, host of “Carter Can.”
Oh dear.
He has so got to be the inspiration for one of my heroes. Just not sure which one yet. 🙂
My personal hero, the hubby, was out of town this week. He returned yesterday. And I realized something while he was gone. I cannot be a hermit writer, much as I like to think I can. I love being home alone all day, working on my writing, but I really need that evening time with my honey.
Long days stretched in front of me with nothing but time to write? Nope, need the hubby to come home at the end of the day and make me think about something else. It's amazing how tangled up your life can get with one person, but we're like the roots of two plants that have grown together and entwined to such an extent that one can't survive without the other.
And that's what I love about romance novels. Love is the most wonderful, important, life-altering emotion in the universe. Amazing how romance gets bashed as “those little books” or “bodice rippers” or “easy, mindless trash.” Really? Love is mindless trash? Interesting thought.
Got any thoughts about love, romance novels, or fabulous hunks? Do share!
**Edited to remove picture
Nov 14, 2007 | 70 Days of Sweat, Revising, Writing |
I've had to rethink my Sven goals just a little. I didn't realize that revising the first book would take as much time as it has, so I'm not actively working on the next WIP.
There seems to be mass confusion with the GH requirements. Some folks say to worry about the 55 page entry only, because if you make it to the finals and your book is requested, they'll give you a chance to provide an updated copy.
Others say the book should be revised all the way through and as polished as you can make it. I guess I'm erring on the side of caution, but it's making me quite unhappy to work on this thing non stop. The more I revise, the more I see what I could change to be even better.
And I know that's a trap.
True story: when I was about 6, I had a playmate who was four years older. She had the patience of Job, because I remember one day wanting to play Barbies. I got Barbie and she got Ken. And I made her reenact the “meet” so many times it wasn't funny. I came up with all sorts of scenarios, including casting Barbie as Jeannie and Ken as Tony Nelson (I Dream of Jeannie for you whippersnappers). I was never satisfied, and we replayed the meet over and over. Finally, I think she gave up.
But as I revise, I remember my 6yr old perfectionist. And I tell her we don't have time to rewrite this story in every possible incarnation she can imagine.
How do you revise? Do you have a limit, say two times through, or do you revise until you're satisfied? How do you resist the perfectionist inside (if you have one)?
Nov 13, 2007 | Life |
Really, I don't know the number, but I'm sure I've learned quite a few things over my lifetime so far. This next one is one I thought I knew. Obviously, I did not.
Never, ever drink anything the party host calls Artillery Punch, especially if you aren't a hard liquor drinker in the first place. It will knock you on your *ss.
Now, I am a careful drinker. I'm old enough to know better than to a) mix a variety of beverages or b) to keep drinking long after the room has begun to swim. My preferred beverage is red wine and I know exactly when to stop.
But the host had this beautiful glass decanter filled with what looked like sangria. Even had fruit in it. I should have dumped the little cup after the first sip. No, I did not. I drank it. I drank three more over the course of about 3.5 hours. (We're talking a small plastic cup, like a whiskey tumbler.) I think that's a reasonable rate of consumption quite honestly.
Or it would have been if the punch had been normal. Yeah, I could tell it was heavily laced with booze. I should have watched the man mix it before I drank it. Because, later in the evening, he mixed more. It was whole bottles of booze, basically. I forget what gave it the pink color, but I don't think it was anything with Vitamin C in it.
Sunday, the headache from h*ll descended upon me. Not a migraine, so I couldn't shoot up for it. Just had to endure the awful pounding and the queasy stomach that arrived a bit later.
Life lesson # 339? I am too old for a hangover.
Learn any life lessons of your own lately?
