Exhaustion, Vampire Anatomy, Depression and the Saturday Morning Breakfast Serial

Hi all.

It's been a while since I've posted. I'm going to try to make up for that by giving you a nice, long post. Assuming I can stay upright that long.

Once upon a time I was diagnosed with an Unspecified Chronic Fatiguing Illness. It was pure hell for about two years, then it went into remission. (WHOOO FREAKIN' HOOOO!!) Most of the time I'm fine. Sometimes it nails me. If I take care of myself the bad spells usually don't last too long any more. The trick is taking care of it. Also, weird things can kick it in. Travel is hard on me. A case of the flu can do it. In this case, it was the food poisoning.

It wasn't a bad case by any means. I was functional after the first day. But I'm dealing with the whole exhaustion thing now and it sucks. So if I don't post periodically, forgive me, just figure I'm getting my rest.

***

One of the panels I was on at MileHi involved Paranormal Research. We got a complaint part-way in that we were talking about regular research and not paranormal. But it really is the same thing. Research is research. Not sexy, but true. You need your regular facts to be perfect if you want your readers to believe the paranormal. . . to take that leap of faith. Also, if you are working with an existing mythos, you need to know what you're doing and be respectful. Yes, you can tweak the rules, but you have to know what they are first.

***

Which leads me to a discussion I had with Cathy on a different occasion regarding vampire anatomy. (1) Why can't they eat solids? (2) Are the teeth hollow and used for absorbing the blood, or are they solid and just open the vein and the rest of the mouth is used for sucking purposes? (3) Do they swallow the blood or absorb it?

So we're discussing this (No wonder people stare at us oddly and eavesdrop so voraciously. Our conversations are MUCH more interesting than some others. At least on the weird scale.).

With regard to the solids -- I'm asserting/assuming that the death of tissue when a vampire ceases being human includes the esophageal muscles. Obviously not the tongue, or they couldn't talk, suck or swallow properly, but the esophagus is the set of muscles between where the tongue lets of and the stomach, etc. If it atrophied solid food would get "stuck" about mid-chest.

IF the teeth are hollow, I would assume they basically have a hollow root system that dumps into the throat where the blood can then be swallowed or absorbed. (My personal take would be swallowed with blood being absorbed much the way alcohol is -- only more so. Which would lead to research on HOW alcohol is absorbed by the body.)

On the other hand, my personal take is that the teeth are TEETH, that they are used for puncturing and tearing with the mouth muscles and tongue used for sucking and swallowing. (See above re absorption.)

But you have to decide what your rules are, research so they make sense, and then ABIDE BY THEM.

***
Depression

I have it. It sucks. Generally it gets worse when I'm exhausted and feel like crap (situational and hormonal triggers). Big shocker there. I'll work through it. I always do. But I'm not feeling particularly cheery. I can and will get past it. But if I sound grumpy, it's not you, it's biology.

***

And now with regard to the Serial. I'm pooped. I spent all yesterday doing the edit pass for the first book of the new series. (Recreating everything I lost when the computer crashed and I lost both the original and back-up copies). Cathy is going over it now to catch everything I missed and it will go to the editor at the beginning of the week. But I repeat, I'm POOPED. So I will ask you to forgive me, and to tune in Monday when I will hopefully feel better and can create something worth reading. Right before I launch into the second draft of the second book of the new series.

Until then.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN or whatever holiday you favor. HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!

And good night.

Home to the Critters

Okay, I'm back and sufficiently recovered to post something.

The con was wonderful except for the food poisoning. That sucked. And it put me WAAAAAAY behind on a lot of things I had hoped to accomplish. So I spent a whole lot of money on a lovely trip and spent most of the time in the bathroom. Yes, it was a very nice bathroom---granite countertops and lovely decorative tile with subtle wallpaper accents all of it in nice, warm, golden and brown tones. If I ever need to describe the toilet in a high-end hotel room in exquisite detail I will now be able to do so.

But that wasn't precisely what I had in mind.

Still, I did get to visit some friends (if ever-so-briefly) and with my son (less briefly, but with potty breaks), and be on some panels. Mile Hi Con is definitely on the let's do it again list.

Rather than let myself be annoyed about all the things I didn't get to do I am focusing on the positive. Like the fact that my being indisposed launched my diet goal with a bang. I mean, seriously, I'm still a little hesitant when it comes to food. I've had one or two actual meals since Friday night (the first one coming from sheer desperation---I was weak and had the shakes from low blood sugar after having been so ill), but for the most part portion control and milder foods are a serious necessity. And now that I'm a little stronger, I've started walking again. Not far yet, but at least it's a start. The weight work and machine will have to wait until I'm feeling a little stronger.

All this from a MILD case of food poisoning.

I want to thank the fans that showed up. It was really great to see you. And thank you for the gift. It's very sweet of you to think of me like that.

I got to meet some cool authors, which is always fun, and discuss the nuts and bolts of the industry. Also a very good time.

Apparently I didn't pack quite right for the trip home, a couple of things got broken. (PFFFFT). But my laptop arrived intact as did the jump drive with the revisions, which really was the biggest thing. I think I'd lose it utterly if the revisions got lost again.

Special thanks to Cathy's husband Don for watching the critters for me. They are all a little needy right now. They do not like me going on trips. But things will settle down soon.

Now I have to get to the day job. Have a wonderful day all.

Even Mild Food Poisoning Sucks

I think the above is self-explanatory. Something was fishy about my fish. I am not feeling well and I've got too much to do to baby myself for long.

7up and Crackers are on the shopping list for as soon as I'm able/willing to leave the hotel room.

Ugh.

Mile Hi Con

Hi Guys!

I've arrived in Denver and am at the hotel. I have a million things to do while in town, and am very excited to be here. Cons are always fun and this is a good one. But I've also got a lot of work to make up for. I'm off now to buy a keyboard for the laptop because the one included is a little uncomfortable.

Everyone have a great weekend. I would love to say I'll post faithfully, but I don't know if I can or not. Life is a little busy this weekend.

Best always.

Cie

Putting Things in Perspective

All right. I spent all yesterday (from before 7:00 a.m. until at least 7:00 p.m. I didn't really check) going through the edit letter and making the edits to the draft of the book. I kicked ass. Then I re-read the 1st and 2nd edit letters crossing things off, making sure what I'd gotten done and noting what I'd missed for working on it today. I was probably 80% through the edits. I had been good. I saved early and often because the computer has been on the fritz. I am waiting for the cheap Compaq desktops to come out toward the end of this month and will be replacing it.

I went to bed feeling pretty good about the whole thing. Tired, but good. I could get it finished and off before the trip EASY.

Then, middle of the night I got a call from my son.

His roommates (a couple) had gone on a dream trip out of the country. The man was going to propose. There was a terrible accident. His fiancee drowned. She's dead. Emily was an incredibly sweet woman. One in a million. Smart, funny, and genuinely nice. I only met her twice, but I remember her well and fondly. She was that kind of a person.

I spent time comforting my son---although there really isn't a lot of comfort to be had in those kinds of shocking and horrible situations. I have my religious beliefs, but that is cold comfort to a 27 year old man who has just lost a dear friend and another whose lost the love of his life on what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of it.

It took a long time to get back to sleep, and I didn't sleep all that well. I kept trying to think of what I could say or do that would bring any comfort at all, and coming up dry.

I got up this morning, determined to go back to the edits. Get to work. Get it done. Time and toil wait for no man.

Due to a computer glitch the file is corrupted. Everything after page 10 is gone. Backup is corrupted too. It's gone.

Normally I would be angry, pissed off, mad at myself and the world. That isn't happening today. I'll re-do the edits. Yeah, it's a PITA, but I'll get it done, before the trip, while I'm washing clothes, packing and doing all that happy crap. It'll get done. It's my job, and I'm pretty good at it. But it's not what's on my mind. Because, ultimately, it's just a nuisance, not that big of a deal. Especially when you put it in perspective.

Monday Trivia

Okay, I only have a couple of minutes (literally). So this is going to be quick. Respond to catadamsfans@gmail.com.

Name three televisions shows in which Eliza Dishku has/had a recurring or starring role.

Okay, on to the next thing. Got some questions sent to me on MySpace and thought you'd be interested. I didn't get permission to list the questioner's name, so I'm keeping it anonymous, but the questions are asked of me fairly often, so I figured I'd go ahead and post the answers here. Remember, my answers are just my opinion based on my personal experience.

That said:

Answers from Cie

1) How do you get an editor?
2) Do you have to go to school to be a writer?

First we'll answer (2). You don't have to go to school as such, but you have to know certain things. They can be self taught, but they're important.

A -- Basic vocabulary, grammar, spelling and punctuation. You're communicating in writing. You need to know how to write. These are your tools. Trying to be a writer without knowing how to use them properly is like trying to build a house without a hammer, saw, or screwdriver. It might be possible, but I wouldn't bank on it.

B -- How to take criticism without going overboard. Everybody's work can improve. Nobody's work is perfect. Ever. So people need editing. Some people find critique groups helpful. Some don't. But when somebody gives you advice, look at what you've written without the rose colored glasses. Would it improve it? BUT don't take every bit of advice from everyone until you don't have your own story, you have "word stew."

I would suggest you look at a couple of books on writing. Steven King's "On Writing" is a no-nonsense, to the point book that I found helpful. You might also look at Jim Butcher's blog. He has some excellent advice there.

As to question (1), you will be assigned an editor at the publishing house when the book is accepted for publication. NOTE -- this happens in the professional circles. If you self-publish through any of the various options available you will probably not get an editor. I don't recommend this at all for the beginning writer. You NEED to be edited by a real professional that knows what they're doing.

There are pay-for-editing services out there. They are expensive and the quality ranges from excellent to horrible with everything in between. I would recommend you do a LOT of research before you hire anybody. There's no point in paying for advice that isn't likely to be helpful.

DO YOUR RESEARCH ANYWAY. This is a career, it is serious, and you should take it seriously. There are a million scams out there for people who want to be in the business. I would hate to see you get sucked into one. "Preditors and Editors" is a place to start on research. ....http://anotherealm.com/prededitors/.... .....There's so much more to say, because it's a huge topic. But this is a start.

3) What about an agent? What do they do?

An agent will help you to find the right publisher for your work, and will submit it and negotiate contracts for you, etc. A number of the larger houses don't accept unagented submissions. (You need to check ahead before submitting, but you need to do that anyway. It's part of doing your homework--checking to make sure the house is a good fit for your work, is accepting submissions, what format they want it in, etc.).

You can look for an agent a number of ways. (1) By looking in The Writer's Market. (2) By looking in the acknowledgments page of books in the same genre by authors you admire. Normally they will thank their lovely agent "John Doe" there. (3) By setting up an agent "pitch" session at a conference or convention (They schedule these at the RWA Convention and sometimes at RT, I don't know about others. You'd need to check; (4) By personal referrals if you know someone who has an agent and has offered. (It is, however, considered rude to ask them to. Either they offer, or they don't.)

Then look on the agent's website and/or in The Writer's Market to see if (a) they're accepting new cllients; (b) what they're representing; and (c) their requirements.

Good luck!

4) Last question. Does age matter?

There have been kids in high school who have gotten published, and so have little old ladies and gents. The trick is having something to say and saying it well enough to catch the eye of a publisher. So, I guess not.


Later kids!

Best always.


Cie

Well . . . . Crap

Well, crap. The Saturday Morning Breakfast Serial is being called today on account of edits. The book requires a seriously quick turnaround, and my head is so deep in that world that I honestly can't change gears without stripping something fundamental inside my head. I apologize, but there you go. It's not a weakness to know your own limitations.

Alas, got the car worked on, but the brake light is still flashing. Which means the brake shoes weren't the whole problem. I'm hoping it's not something big like the master cylinder (If they even still have those in the brake systems on vehicles. They did on my classic Camaro, but that was a VERY long time ago.) At any rate, that rules out running all of the out-of-town errands until it gets looked at. UGH.

Cie

Brake Shoes, a Lawn Mower and Schtoof to DO

One of the great constants of adult life is errands. There are ALWAYS things you need to get done. Most of them during business hours when, normally, you have to work. So that you either have to take time off to do them, or they don't get done. This is particularly true in a small town where everything closes at lunch, so you can't get things done on your lunch hour.

Since I've switched to part time temporarily, you would think I'd be on top of all this crap. WRONGO. The errands have multiplied to fill the available space and then some.

It's like laundry. Unless you do laundry in the nude, there is a never-ending supply. You are dirtying more AS your doing it. Sigh.

Today, for example, I have on my list:

Car to shop to get brakes fixed;
Car to inspection shop to get inspection sticker (which has expired);
Pack all items for shipping;
Items to post office for shipping (out of town so they go faster);
Pay IRS;
Pay power bill;
Order books online that are needed for research;
Send birthday card to friend;
Laundry (particularly the bedding the cat threw up on---UGH);
Mow lawn with new lawn mower;
Renew post office box;
Grocery store for bread and milk;
Exercise;
Go run errands while out of town for friends;
Buy birthday gift for mother;
Look for gifts for agent, editor, and various other dignitaries;
Get online and post and answer e-mails;
Edits to book;
Start Christmas shopping;
Prepare for trip next weekend;
Apply for jobs in hopes of scheduling interviews while in Denver.
Arrange with Vet for dog to be boarded during trip.
Ask friend to cat sit during trip.

I'm making progress. But it's not even noon and I'm completely exhausted. UGH.

But onward with the motivation post.

Do I feel motivated? No. Too pooped.

Am I making progress? Maybe. On some things anyway. Weight, not so much. I actually GAINED a bit when my back was too hurt for me to exercise. Ticks me off too.

Did send out resume and letters of reference for a good job in Denver. Cross your fingers folks.

Well, that's it. Sorry it wasn't exactly an exciting post. But I've got to get things accomplished today. Tomorrow you can at least look forward to the serial.

Oh, and I do have one bit of good news. I'm starting to have creative thoughts again. Book plots and worlds are starting to run through my brain. When I'm too stressed, tired, and angry the whole creative part of my brain shuts down. So WOOO HOOO!!!

If at first you don't succeed . . .

There's an ancient proverb (I'm guessing Chinese, it seems like that sort of thing). Fall down nine times, get up ten.

It is amazingly hard to change the habits of a lifetime. It's possible, if you're truly motivated and work at it. And the longer you're able to change it, and the more often you follow the new behaviors the easier it gets --- right up until you get severely stressed. Then the old stuff sneaks up on you. You're watching the crisis du jour, and the bad habit takes advantage.

So you start over.

I am not a spring chicken. Hell, I'm not even a SUMMER chicken. It's late autumn. The habits are pretty entrenched. And I've been stressed out of my freaking mind. So I should not be surprised that I backslid.

Self destructive stuff - check
Screw up the old checkbook - check
Depression and self anger - oh freakin' check.

But oddly, it's not all bad.

First, I noticed it. And most of it is fixable at this stage.
Second, some of the things that came up in the process are hugely important and are not a product of my 'mood'. My mood just amplifies it.

I do a lot of self-improvement stuff. I know there are people it doesn't work for. It works for me. So I do it. When I feel like I'm sinking fast, I pull out the book by the guru, the CDs (I've been doing this long enough that I even have the program on cassette tapes. Like I said, late autumn.) One of the reasons I've been recognizing the symptoms is that I've started doing the program again.

It's a cycle. Start moving forward. Screw up. Backslide. Groan and complain. Gather myself back up. Start over.

But that's pretty much the average human learning curve. Nobody gets it perfectly right the first time and just keeps executing it perfectly. (Okay, maybe there's an exception that proves the rule, but I don't want to hear about them. How incredibly annoying THAT would be.)

Now I don't like to think I'm average. I've always been "different." (You will note I didn't say special. Special connotates better. Different is just not the same; and can, in fact, be perjorative if you ask the right/wrong person.) But when it comes to the learning curve, I'm just as fallible as the next guy/gal/goat. (Hell, sometimes I think the goat learns quicker. It doesn't do the endless self-flagellation and arguing about what should work logically.)

SO, while it sounds like a broken record, (again with the ancient tech-speak that shows my age,) I am picking myself up. Dusting myself off. Taking 2 minutes to curse, swear, and generally feel sorry for myself. Then I'm trying again. Fall 9,999,999 times . . .

Saturday Morning Breakfast Serial.

Nothing's going to happen. Famous last words. Well, maybe not last words. Although at the moment Jen would gladly and happily strangle her sister she wouldn't actually kill her. Probably. No. She wouldn't. She loved Wendy. She really did. She just needed to remind herself of that over, and over until she calmed down.

"Are you all right?"

Jen gave her boyfriend a look that would've curdled milk.

"Okay, admittedly a stupid question. " He shook his head. "God, what a mess." He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number from memory. The police station, of course. Jen only half-listened as he reported a break-in and presumed robbery.

The place was a wreck. It was as if a tornado had come threw. The contents of drawers were dumped on the floor, her bookcases emptied, their contents strewn everywhere. Her couch cushions and throw pillows had been shredded with a knife. There was broken glass everywhere. And that was just the living room. Jen hadn't even looked at the other rooms in the house. It was too damned depressing.

Outside she heard a faint, plaintive mewling. Obsidian! He wasn't in the house! Oh thank God. He could've been hurt, even killed.

Jen pushed past Jake to stand on the front porch step. "Obsidian. Here baby. Come here. It's all right now. I'm home."

She saw a twitch of movement in the bushes, and the mewling grew louder. Crouching down, she clucked her tongue and started making the little squirrel sounds that never failed to draw him out. Sure enough, he began his approach, warily at first, but crossing the last bit of space in a rush.

"Oh baby, I've missed you too." She petted him, tears stinging her eyes. He was a mess. leaves were tangled in his long, black fur, and there was a long scab running diagonally across his nose. Jen sank into a sitting position, taking him into her lap. As she finger-combed his hair she felt the purr rumbling through his body.

Jake came over and sat down beside them. "The police will be here in a couple of minutes." He told her. "Hey big guy." He reached over, letting the cat sniff his fingers before scratching behind the cat's ears. "Looks like you've had an adventure while we were gone. If only you could talk."

"Next time, he stays at the vet. I don't care how much boarding him costs." Jen's voice was unsteady. "If he hadn't been outside . . ."

"Don't think about it. He's fine. He's safe. You're safe. That's what's important."

"But my house." She felt so violated. And oh God the work it was going to take cleaning that mess up. It made her tired just thinking about it. The vacation had been fun, but it hadn't been restful. She was already exhausted. Damn it! The tears that had been threatening began falling in earnest.

"I know. I know." Obsidian squirmed out from between them as Jake took Jen in his arms, holding her close. "It's going to be all right. It sucks. And it's not the homecoming we would've wanted for you. But we'll get through this."

She felt like such a baby. She was all right. Her cat was fine. There was nothing in the house that couldn't be replaced. Not really. She'd taken all of her jewelry with her, and she didn't have much else valuable. Even her TV was a crummy old 19 inch.

"You know baby, it looks as if the intruder was searching for something. Any idea what?"

"No clue. I mean, I don't have anything worth hiding."

"Well maybe he just got mad and destroyed things because he didn't find anything he could fence." Jake's voice was soothing, but his expression was doubtful. "Are you sure there's nothing . . ."

"Not a thing. I don't keep anything valuable at the house. It all goes in the safe deposit box at the bank. The jewelry is going back there first thing Monday morning." She rummaged in her purse for a tissue. "Why would somebody do this?"

Why indeed.

Friday Status Check

Inkspot the Infamous is trying to perch on my keyboard. I moved him aside, but his fluffly black tail keeps getting caught in my fingers. Love the animals, but they don't always make work easier.

ANYWAY, status check.

Threw out the back/rib area again. Pain in the . . . um . . . ribs? This has limited the walking and the OTC stuff I took for the pain has helped (as did the long, hot bath) but I'm still not 100%, and no exercise for me. This sucketh, but there you go. The weight seems to be going down, but very slowly.

Mood is pretty good. Glad I didn't make the friendship totally explode. Not sure if the logistics behind the underlying problem are fixed or not. Only time will tell. Good intentions on both sides definitely help though.

I'm not in Denver yet, but the trip is coming up shortly to MileHi Con, and my schedule is such that I should be able to do quite a bit of job hunting. While I love hanging out at the Con and would like to do it, moving is my primary goal. SO, job hunting it is. I have been able to talk a bunch of folks into donating signed books for my basket for the charity auction. The basket will include signed items from: Us (DUH), Laurell K. Hamilton, Jim Butcher, Shannon Butcher, Rachel Caine, Sylvia Day and possibly others. COOL. Hope it makes them lots of $$$.

I am now on Twitter -- CTAdamsauthor is the handle. Come and follow me. :)

OK, off to the races. Bestest.

Cie

Good Friends are a Wonderful Thing

Good friends are a wonderful thing. They get it. They forgive you for being awkward and a duf and cut to the chase. This is something that is extremely great for those of us whose social skills . . . ahem . . . could stand a bit of improvement.

Headache is gone. Back is improving. Mood is lifting. Weight is finally starting to go down. I'm excited about a bunch of upcoming things in my life and we're going for the gold.

Best to all of you today.

Cie

Migraine. My own fault too. Stress of my own manufacture.

As you all know I've been having my ups and downs. Part of it is hormonal, part situational. I decided to make a move in hopes of improving things, and with my usual grace and skill managed to blow the whole situation up AND offend, piss off and hurt somebody who matters a great deal to me. So there's going to be fallout. I knew it was possible, even probable. I'd hoped otherwise.

And now I have a migraine. I took a pill, and am going back to bed for a half hour. Then I have to get up and go to the day job one way or the other.

Later.

Cie

Monday Trivia and Fun and Games

Okay, I need to add up the points. I will try to get that done this afternoon. In the meantime, here is your chance to earn more of them.

What is the name of the bondage club in the Laurell K. Hamilton book where Anita, Richard and Jean Claude "marry the marks?"

and a bonus point for anyone who goes to Shannon Rose's blog and writes something nice in the comments.

Oh, and as usual, answers go to catadamsfans@gmail.com

Shannon Rose/Please Play With Me!!

Okay, here's what's up. I kept reading in those thrillers (and seeing on the few TV shows I watch on my computer) about "throw away" phones. Cheap pay for your minute cell phones (very much like the one I use--because I'm cheap and I don't make a lot of calls) that they set up anonymously and then throw away after a call or two.

SO, I had this situation come up. My phone has a LOT of minutes, double minutes plan, a Denver number I've sent out to prospective employers, all of my contacts, some pictures that I took (some of my foot accidentally, but a few actually on purpose!) and an expiration date out in the waaaaaaaaaay distant future because I've bought minutes so many times. I did not want to lose it. But I couldn't FIND it. So I needed to call it. From the house. While I was AT the house. Which doesn't work since it is my only phone. SOOOOOOOOO I decided to spend 20 bucks and do a little research for future romantic suspense books (and the Saturday Morning Breakfast Serial, which is about to get . . . shall we say, tense.)

So, I created the fictional Shannon Rose to be the shell owner of this throwaway phone and CRAPOLA you really CAN set it up just that easy. I did have to set her up an e-mail account too. But that wasn't any harder. HOLY MOLY BATMAN.

ANYWAY, now that we HAVE Shannon Rose in existence, I was thinking. Perhaps I would actually USE her as a character. Give her a full work up, set her up a blog, let you guys e-mail her. Whaddaya think? Ya wanna?

Oh by the way. I called myself with the test phone (it comes with 20 minutes) and, lo and behold, found my "real" phone with just two calls. (In the closet, in the pocket of one of my jackets).

But back to Shannon Rose.

Her birth date is March 17, 1964. (A St. Patrick's Day baby. :) )
Her favorite color -- GREEN (DUH)

But we're taking votes on the rest of this. Put your preference in the comments.

Ethnicity?
Hair color?
Eye color?
Height?
Weight?
Religion?
Feisty to sweet ratio? (1 sweet = 10 feisty)
Kick ass to 'Oh crap why does this always happen to me?' ratio? (1 oh crap = 10 You wanna piece of this?)
Education level?
Family status? (Orphaned? Parent with Alzheimers? Any kids?)
Romantic entanglements? (Married, divorced, single, VERY single [as in "I'ma PLAYA baby"]
Where does she live? (Urban, small town, out in the middle of frickin' nowhere rural?)

Send your answers to: shannonrose1@yahoo.com

Now I am really hoping y'all will come out and play with me on this. I really am. But ultimately, since I'm the one who's gonna write the story, I get veto power.

The bio for Shannon will appear on this blog. On HER blog, and in the newsletter. Once we've got her up and rolling, we'll see about writing her story in HER blog. (Sort of an ongoing breakfast serial as it were.)

LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!!

PS. Shannon now has her own blog. http://buildalifefromscratch.blogspot.com/
Please sign up to follow it so she doesn't feel horribly lonely and unloved. :)

Saturday Morning Breakfast Serial & Stuff

Okay, going to start with the "stuff" portion of the broadcast.

I need an assistant. I just do. I am SOOOOOO far behind on mailing out stuff. I have lackeys and minions without packets (and I am still in the market for more lackeys and minions if anyone is feeling in the mood.) I have prizes that people won AGES ago sitting ready to mail but not out. I have stuff around the house that is really disgustingly overdue, and STILL I have no time because I've got the day job, the writing, the promo, and oh yeah, LIFE and the animals to take care of. I'm not whining. I love my life. I love writing (and even folks who love their jobs will tell you they don't love EVERYTHING about their job every DAY). I need to really hit the job hunting HARD and I haven't even had time to do that.

Where is the time going? I'm not even sure. But I know that I'm going to try to focus and do better, because until I move to Denver I can't FIND an assistant (no point in getting one here and going there---besides which, I want to use that money to move). So I suspect things will still be behind for a while. But be kind (rewind---and how out of date is that saying already. Little kids don't even know about VHS any more. Sad.) be patient, and don't hurt me for being so late getting things to you. PLEASE?


And now to your serial.
******************************
Jen checked her watch, did the math, and decided that it was probably a decent hour to call her sister. There really wasn't ever a "good" time. Wendy kept very irregular hours. She did shift work, and it changed a lot. But she also partied---hard. It was how she'd met Kevin. Jen had always hoped her sister would "grow up," but thus far there'd been no sign of it. Of course, she thought Jen was a horrible "stick-in-the-mud" because she didn't party any more. Hell, she hadn't done it much even back in the day. It just seemed such a waste to get wasted. Why work that hard for a paycheck and then blow it on one night so that you had to struggle and scrape just to get by?

Jen shook her head. She was doing it again, being judgmental. Her sister was doing her a favor. She needed to focus on being grateful. Because she was. Wendy's helping out made it possible for her to be here with Jake having the time of her life. And she was: romantic walks on the beach, playing in the surf, playing in the hotel room. Oh it was wonderful. The wedding yesterday had been gorgeous, and so romantic. Every one of Jake's family seemed to like her too. They were being so much nicer than her family had been to him. Of course they might just be on their best behavior because of the wedding, but she really didn't think so.

She dialed the number to Wendy's cell phone from memory. It rang four times before a very sleepy-sounding voice came on the line.

"'Lo?"

"Wendy, it's Jen."

"Right, Jen. Hang on a sec', 'kay?" Jen heard Kevin grumbling, then her sister fumbling around in the background, finally there was the sound of a door closing, and Wendy's voice came back on the line."

"I'm back." Wendy announced, following it up with a huge yawn. "So, how's Hawaii with hunkalicious?"

"It's wonderful. I'm having the time of my life! Thanks so much for agreeing to watch Obsidian. How's he doing anyway."

"Um, Jen . . . about that . . . "

Jen's stomach clenched at the words, and she closed her eyes, praying silently that her cat was all right. Wendy would never deliberately hurt him. But oh Lord, if anything bad had happened . . .

Wendy started in on one of her long, rambling explanations. "See, I would'a sworn I hung the key on the hook. But when I went to get it, it wasn't there. But I mean, I knew I had to take care of the cat. I mean, you're counting on me. So, I figured I'd just go in through the window. No harm, no foul. But it broke. And while I was waiting for the guy to come replace the glass . . . he said he'd bill you for the work . . . I'm really sorry Jen. But, um, the cat . . . well, he got out. I've seen him. He's still hanging around the house. But he won't let me get near him. So I moved the pan with his food outside. And I'm still going by in case I can get him to come inside."

Jen didn't pound her head against the wall, but she wanted to. Dammit, dammit, damn it! Obsidian was up to date on his shots, and he was smart and tough. But there were raccoons in the neighborhood, and she'd heard an owl hunting just a couple of nights before she left. DAMN it.

"Jen? Say something. Please? I'm really, really sorry. I know you were counting on me. But I'm sure he's all right. And you're coming home tomorrow. He'll come in for you."

"It's all right." Jen lied. It was not all right. She was furious and hurt, and worried. But there wasn't a damned thing she could do about it and there probably wasn't anything Wendy could do. Because Obsidian wasn't going to come to her. No chance of that at all.

"You're mad."

Hell yes she was mad? Why wouldn't she be? Wendy'd lost the key to her house, broken a window, and let the cat get out. The only thing that she could've done to screw up worse was burn the place down or leave it unlocked so that burglars . . . oh shit.

"Wendy, sweetie" Jen took a deep breath, fighting to make sure her voice was calm, pleasant even. "Did you lock the house back up when you left? Maybe get mom's key to let yourself back in?"

"Mom's got a key? Why didn't I think of that?" Jen actually heard her sister smack her palm against her forehead. "I'll go get it from her. Then I can lock the place up."

She hadn't locked up. Jen counted backwards from twenty-five. It was supposed to calm her down. It wasn't working. She felt more like she was counting down to lift-off.

"You're pissed. I can tell." Wendy's voice was accusatory. "You're breathing funny. You practically sound like an obscene caller."

Of course Jen was pissed. Why wouldn't she be? It's not like she'd asked her sister to do anything hard.

"Look, it's not like you live in a bad neighborhood or anything. The place is nice. Your neighbors are sweet little old ladies. Nothing's going to happen."

Friday Status Check

I'm back, and just in time to do our weekly status check. So far I'm hearing good things from the people participating. YAY! Hope this helps!

I didn't make any progress this week as far as I could tell. First, the week was a blur. It went WAY too fast. Second, I wasn't able to exercise because of the whole back problem. But I'm doing better again today (I think a second of the 3 vertebrae is back in place and the 3rd is sooooo close that the right stretch may take care of it. Sad that I know my back well enough to know which ones are out/back. Although most of the time I'm fine. Which wasn't supposed to happen. It was supposed to be a permanent disability after I fell down a flight of stairs. So I'm grateful that the pain is only an occasional I did something I shouldn't thing and not a constsant thing.)

Saw a great job in Denver on the internet. I am applying for it this morning and getting a special letter of recommendation. Have to get my car checked prior to getting it inspected. Have to re-up my post office box in Denver. Have to check on my reservations and the con schedule for Mile-Hi. Because I'm hoping to cram a house hunt and or job interview in the corners while I'm in town. We'll see. It may not be doable.

But enough about me. WHAT'S HAPPENING WITH YOU?? Inquiring minds want to know.

Good Morning

Hi Guys!

Only have a couple of minutes before the day job starts, but figured I'd let you know that I haven't completely fallen off of the face of the earth.

Good things are happening. Lots of them. But I can't announce anything as of yet. Soon.

Back is still hurting, but I got at least one vertebra to pop back in place, so I'm better than I was the other day when I could barely function.

ANYWAY, time's up, but I'm thinking of y'all.


Cie