C. T. Adams

Sunday Morning Breakfast Serial/Boone Carter

2012-01-29T10:05:00.000-08:00

"I don't know yet." I admitted. "But I'm going to find out."

I realized I'd just basically told him what the old woman specifically told me not to. Oh well. She'd be pissed if she found out, and there'd probably be some nasty consequences. But hey, Rock/Hard place and all that. Besides, if I was actually going to do anything I'd need access to information, the kind of information "Jimmy" was in a perfect position to give me. And I like collecting my paycheck. So sue me.

"What do you need from me?"

I asked for the usual, a recent photo, address, hangouts, names and contact information for friends. He gave me everything he had, although how accurate it would be was up for grabs. Parents think they know their adult kids--and in a way they do. But most of the time the memories of the child and the teenager get tangled up with and color a parent's perception of current reality. Sometimes that works to everybody's benefit. Most parents don't want to believe that "their" Melody is a strung out meth head, turning tricks for the money to score. Unless there's something seriously twisted about the relationship most kids don't want their parents to realize it either. So there's a tacit agreement that makes everybody happy. All right, maybe not happy. But happier.

Yeah, yeah, there are exceptions. But most of the time it's been my experience that nobody knows anybody as well as they think they do: Husbands, wives, parents, kids, friends, lovers, what have you. We all have secrets. Bet on it.

Carmichael reached into his back pocket, pulled a photo from his wallet and passed it across the table. "I want you on this full time. I'll tell Joe. You'll get your salary. But this is all you work on, until it's fixed. My mother is a real piece of work. But she's never wrong about shit like this. So you fix it. Whatever it takes. Got it?"

I took the photo. "I'm going to tell you exactly what I told your mother. I'll find out what's going on, and I'll tell you whatever it is. If I can fix it legally, I will. But I won't do anything that's going to land me in jail. You want that, you'll have to get somebody else."

He didn't like it any better than the old lady had. "Aren't we the fussy one."

How bitchy. I stayed calm, kept a pleasant expression on my face. Carmichael and his mother have money and power. They're used to getting what they want. They're not used to a peon like me telling them no, particularly when they waive lots and lots of dollar signs in front of them. I understand that. Don't like it much. But I understand it just fine. So I kept my voice level and pleasant when I answered. "I have a strong sense of self preservation. I'll find out what's going on. And I'll pass on whatever I find. What you do with the information is up to you. Fair enough?"

"It'll do."

I was going out the door as Darlene was headed back in. I held it open for her, and was rewarded with a big smile, a whole-body wiggle, and two of the four burritos. No donuts, but hey, life's not perfect.

The Saturday Evening Post

2012-01-28T17:00:00.000-08:00

People aren't commenting.
Hmn... surely it doesn't mean I'm BORING.

NAH. Couldn't be.

And even if I am, my guests aren't.

So I have to figure that it's going to be a long, slow haul getting people talking about the blog. Especially since (according to all the right people) blogs are DEAD unless you've already got an established following.

So followers---ESTABLISH ME BABY. I wanna be the ESTABLISHMENT. LOL.

The one I want the most comments on though, the one that I need feedback for, is the serial. I need to know if you're liking Boone.

On a totally different note (B flat? C (Cie/See) sharp?)

Today I'm in the middle of about a thousand day-to-day things. Laundry, housework, writing the first book of the new series that I wanted to have done before the end of the year, but life intervened. The cats got sick in the laundry basket that had all of my socks. Had to wash what seemed like a thousand socks. Seriously, the drying rack, the entire clothesline, all socks. How in the HECK did I get that many socks? I only have two feet. If I wore a pair a day (assuming that none of them are "stray" socks, which, of course, isn't true. There are bound to be a BUNCH of unmatched socks in the batch) I probably have enough socks to wear a different pair for most of a year. HOLY CRAP-WTF?

Whatever. I've got a ton to do. No time to do it. And it's sunny and pretty out, so that there's a part of me that SERIOUSLY wants to play hooky (How in the H do you spell hooky/hookey/hookie?)

WHICH REMINDS ME --

Apparently there is going to be a super bowl commercial with an updated FERRIS BUELLER.

WOOT!!

Okay, off to the salt mines.

Cie

Visiting Dignitary Kristan Higgins!

2012-01-25T06:00:00.000-08:00

HELLO KRISTAN!

Guys, I met Kristan on the Levy tour a few years ago. Since then she's had great success writing what I consider to be a perfect blend of romance and humor -- with dogs. Please give her a warm welcome. (Shouts and applause inserted here.)

Yay! Thank you, Cie! Happy to be here!

So, I've got to ask -- WHY DOGS?

Because dogs rule! That’s why! Let’s face it: if our dogs could take on male human form, we’d marry them. They’re loving, faithful, only want to be with us…and if they eat a shoe here or there, hey. Small price to pay.

Seriously, I’ve been a dog person all my life. NOT having a dog would be weird to me, so my heroines just naturally had pooches. The exception is Lucy from The Next Best Thing; she has a cat named Fat Mikey. And Posey in Until There Was You owns three cats…well, they own her, let’s be honest.

Most people take romance, love and passion very seriously, and I'm sure you do too, but there's definitely humor in all of your books thatI've read. Why do you choose a lighter, funnier approach?

It’s just part of who I am. I think I can get as emotional as anyone, but life generally puts us in a stew of emotions, rather than doling one out at a time. I think romance novels make readers feel good by delivering on the promise of a happy ending; I want my readers to feel good all the way through, and even better at the happy ending. That being said, if you don’t cry at least once while reading one of my books, I’ll feel a bit disappointed.

When did you start writing? Was it always your goal/passion, or did you stumble into writing after another career? If so, what did you do before?

It wasn’t always my passion by a long stretch. Reading was my passion (is my passion). I worked in PR and advertising for about 10 years before I gave writing fiction a try, so I’d always had those muscles in action, as it were. When my kids (now teenagers) were little, I wanted to find something to do that was just for me, as opposed to grinding up homemade baby food or taking the kids to the duck pond. I also wanted to continue to be astay-at-home mommy and somehow contribute to the family finances, so I said, “You know, Higgins, you’ve certainly read enough romance novels in your life. Bet you could write one.” And the rest, as they say, is history.

It wasn’t easy, of course; nothing worthwhile is. But it was joyful work, so I knew I was onto something right.

If you were stuck on a desert island with one of your characters, who would it be? Why?

Oh, lawd have mercy, that’s a tough one! I’m going to have to say my current hero, because I’m totally smitten with him (obsessed is another word). His name is Levi. That’s all you’re gonna get. Okay, okay, I’ll tell you more. Hot, brooding…sleepy blue eyes, reluctant smile, unconventionally heroic. Sigh!

What animal is closest to your personality? (If you were an animal instead of a person, what would you be?)

I would be the majestic Lone Wolf, Cie, roaming the dark, cold forests of the North—oh, wait, that’s not quite right, is it? How about a giraffe? I’m pretty laid back, like to hang out with others and eat. Giraffes always seem to be eating, so that works for me.

Do you listen to music when you write? If so, what kind?

I do, and it’s terrible. I think I have OCD when it comes to music and writing because I listen to one song over and over and over. I do a vast and exhaustive search, usually with the help of my Facebook fans, and try to find a song that suits the mood of the book, or one scene in the book. Once I’ve found it, that’s all I play. In the car, at home, in my office, and if I had to live with myself, I’d kill me. Currently, the song is Us Against the World by Coldplay. I’ve currently played it 224 times on my computer. But I’m only chapter four. And for the record, I have no idea what Chris Martin meant this song to express; I only know what it means to me and this book.

I’ve found that having The Song puts me in the mood to write almost immediately. A Pavlovian response, if you will, and as you know, writing is hard, so I’ll take any help I can get.

Do YOU have any pets?

I certainly do! I have a rescued mutt named Willow, who is tremendously adorable and snuggly. And I am owned by a cat named Huck, whom we adopted from a shelter. I’m a big believer in rescuing and adopting animals. I don’t think I’d ever buy a dog or cat when there are so many in need of homes. Will get off my soapbox now.

What's one bit of advice you'd give to aspiring writers (and is itokay if I post this on the website I share with Cathy?)

Sure!

My advice to writers is this: believe in yourself, and get over yourself. You CAN become a published author. It’s hard, and you may have a long road in front of you, but if you believe and work toward that goal and do what you need to do, whatever that might be, you can do it! Everyone who really wants it can get it. I truly believe that.

And then the second part—get over yourself. I think being hard on myself is one of the reasons I’ve gotten this far. I don’t think I’m all that, in other words, but I do think I work hard, I feel deeply and I try really, really hard to write a great book. The day I think I’m amazing is the day my career starts to tank.

You have a fairly extensive catalog at this point. Would youcare to share a link or give us a list? What do you have coming out in 2012.

All my books are listed on my website in the bookshelf section. www.kristanhiggins.com, and on my Facebook page, www.Facebook.com/KristanHigginsBooks. My ninth book comes out in April; it’s called SOMEBODY TO LOVE, and readers will see some familiar faces including…yes!…Maloner the Loner. He seems to have a cult devoted to him. At any rate, readers will visit Gideon’s Cove, Maine, once again for a new story in which Malone and Maggie and a bunch of great characters from CATCH OF THE DAY all appear. That epilogue you guys wanted for Maggie and Malone? It’s in there.

Who are some of your favorite authors, and why?

That’s always a tough question because there are literally about a hundred authors whose work means so much to me. In romance, they’re Eloisa James, Robyn Carr, Jill Shalvis, Rachel Gibson, Sherry Thomas, JuliaQuinn. But I also love Thomas Hardy, Edith Wharton and Stephen King. My taste is eclectic. Sue me.

What's a fun fact about you that most readers don't know?

Oh, let’s see. I had a horse named Jenny when I was growing up. I was probably thrown at least 100 times (she was a naughty horse), andthis was back in the days when we rode without helmets. Explains a lot, doesn’t it?

Well, thanks for coming by. I really enjoyed having you here. I'm hoping to run into you at one of the cons sometime soon. Again, thanks.

Thanks, Cie! It’s lovely to visit with you again, even if it’s via the web. Hope to see you soon, too!

Cheating a Little/The Sunday Morning Breakfast Serial

2012-01-22T05:54:00.000-08:00

Okay, it's Saturday morning. I actually slept in to 6:30!!! WHOOO HOO.

My schedule for the next few weeks is completely nutsoid. There are edits coming back. I'm finishing a book. (Which is taking much longer than it should because of said nuttiness.) There are Visiting Dignitary interviews to go out, come back, be posted, the blog, and, of course, this story.

I am about to make a confession. I cannot keep 3 worlds straight in my head for any length of time. Just doesn't work. I drop the ball somewhere. Since I don't want any of the three to be crap I have made a decision. (Don't panic. It's not what you think. Keep reading.)

Instead of writing the serial in segments off the top of my head for the next month or so, I'm going to do one massive(ish) shift of writing today on it, break it into chunks, and schedule it to post on the next several Sunday mornings. Then I can get my head where it needs to be for the book and (toes crossed, fingers are for typing) have it done when the edit letter comes back. Maybe. I hope.

But before I do that, I'm going to give you all a chance to catch up (or get started if you haven't been following yet). Below is the Sunday Morning Breakfast Serial Boone Carter to date:
******************************
Who in the Hell is Boone Carter?

“This is Boone Carter. I have good news and I have bad news.” I spoke into the cell phone. It was an old one, a little bigger than they make them now, so I didn't feel like I was talking into a credit card. It also had the advantage of being cheap. It was a pre-paid model, the kind they call a“burn phone” on tv. But I've had it longer than my most recent apartment. Then again, that's not saying all that much. I tend to be pretty mobile.

“Tell me.” The client sounded tense. Then again, from what I could tell Melodee Bigbee was always tense. Probably the meth. But maybe just her nature. I didn't know. Didn't much care either.

“The good news is, I found your car. The bad news, the police are going to be asking you lots of question and I'm not sure you're ever going to get the smell out.”

She started swearing and hung up on me. I wasn't surprised. I'd be willing to bet that a visit from the cops would be a life-changing experience for Melodee, and not in a good way. Particularly not when they were going to be asking her questions about the murder of her dealer/boyfriend-maybe-commonlaw-husband Dirk. Ah well, not my problem. She'd paid me to find the car. I found the car.

I closed the cell phone and slid it into the back pocket of my worn jeans.

"Let me guess," Trey said "she hung up on you."

"Yup."

Trey shook his head, smirking. Let him smirk. I've got a thick skin. And I learned a long time ago to get paid, in cash, in advance. None of this "in trade for sex" or whatever crap. Show me the Benjamins or I walk. It's one thing Trey and I absolutely agree on.

Trey Jefferson is my current roommate. His full name is Theodore Thomas Jefferson III. He hates it. So he goes by Trey. Trey is everything I'm not: Small, wiry, and black, he's quick, and clever. He gets a lot of exercise jumping to conclusions. I stand 6'7" in my bare feet, am whiter than your average lily, and tend to think things through very carefully before I take any action. The latter is a product of my "colorful" upbringing.

I met Trey at my most recent job. I'm a roofer for Carmichael & Sons Roofing Professionals in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I wandered out here in search of sunlight and warmth after spending a couple years working on cleaning up the aftermath of Katrina and establishing my identity. We hit it off well enough. He needed a roommate. I needed a place. So far it's worked out better than most of my living arrangements. Trey knows enough not to ask too many questions.

Smart man.

###

Trey and I clattered down the stairs to my battered old pick-up. We needed to hustle if we were going to make it to work on time. No surprise. It's like this every day. Every day I swear I won't wait for his sorry ass; and every day as I'm headed to the truck to leave without him he comes dashing down after me, swearing under his breath and threatening a whole lot of shit he has no intention of actually doing to me.

When we reached the front door, though, I stopped in my tracks suddenly enough that Trey rammed into me from behind.

"What the . . ." he complained.

"We have company."

He shoved past me to look out through the lace curtains that adorned the window built into the front door. His eyes went wide. "A limo."

"Yup."

"And they've blocked in the truck."

"Right again."

He gave me a long look. "You know somebody owns a limo?"

"No. You?"

"Nope."

"Who do you 'spose it is?"

"Only one way to find out." I pulled open the door and we strolled out onto the porch. Trey waited as I pulled the door closed and set the deadbolt. It was a waste of time really--what good is a deadbolt on a wooden door that is almost half window? But old Mrs. Cunningham gets pissy if we leave it unlocked, and she's the landlady.

Trey and I walked over to the limo together.

The car was a 2010 Rolls Royce Phantom, cream colored with long, beautiful lines. Nothing tacky about this number. Pure elegance. The driver was pretty elegant too--a leggy blonde with wide blue eyes, her short hair slicked back under the traditional driver's cap. Her gray driver's uniform was fairly effective at hiding her figure, but there's only so much camoflage can do when a girl's got a body like that.

"Which of you gentlemen is Boone Carter?" She asked.

I raised my hand. "That would be me."

The blonde opened the door to the rear compartment. "Get in," she ordered. I stepped forward. When Trey started to follow she blocked his path. "No. This is a private conversation between Mr. Carter and the boss."

I took a look inside the passenger compartment of the limo. The only person there was a little white-haired old lady. Maybe eighty pounds, and probably at least eighty years old. I was betting I could take her in a straight-up fight. Reaching into my pocket I pulled out my truck keys and tossed them back to my roommate. "It's all right. You take the truck. I'll meet you at the job site."

He looked at me doubtfully. I've never let him drive the truck. It's not much of a vehicle, but it's all I've got. I don't usually trust him with it because he has the attention span of a gnat on speed. He's always distracted. He can't help it. But today I was willing to take a risk. Mainly because I was curious. Who was the old girl and what did she want with me?

"You're sure."

"Positive. Just don't wreck it."

"I," he assured me with a huge grin, "am a great driver."

Yeah, right. And if you believe that one I've got this land in Florida . . . I sighed and climbed in the limo. Either my truck would make it to the job site in one piece or it wouldn't. I'd made my choice. Still, I felt a little chill run down my spine when the driver closed the door with a solid, almost ominous, thunk.

I sat across from the "boss" my weight sinking into butter soft carmel colored leather that still had that new car smell. The woman across from me watched me with the bright dark eyes of a bird magnified only a little by the pair of rimless glasses she wore. She wasn't a beautiful woman, never had been. Even softened by age and wrinkles her features were too harsh for that. But she was striking, and impeccably neat. Not a wrinkle marred the dark rose suit she wore, and her jewelry was both conservative, and obviously expensive. Even if the limo hadn't clued me in, I would've known she had money. She wasn't being crass about it. Wealth was just a fact of her existence, like the sun and the tides.

"Mr. Carter."

"Ma'am."

I heard the front door slam, and the car started up. A moment later we pulled smoothly away from the curb. We sat in silence for a few blocks. I wondered if we were following Trey in the truck. The driver hadn't asked for a destination. I did hope I'd wind up at the work site eventually. I like my job, and Mr. Carmichael has no sense of humor about missing work.

"You're not much of a talker." She observed.

"I figured you'll tell me what you want when you're ready."

She gave me what might have been a smile, or not, just a bitter little twist of the lips. "My son is Jimmy Carpenter Carmichael."

"Jimmy" Carmichael, as in Mr. Carmichael the owner of the company I worked for. So maybe I wouldn't get in trouble for being late. Assuming, of course, she told him we'd met.

"Jimmy is a good boy." She told me. I didn't mention that at 56 he was twice my age and hardly a 'boy'. He was her son. He'd always be a boy to her. "A little weaker than I'd like. Not like his father was, or even his brother Ron."

I'd worked with James Carmichael long enough to know he wasn't exactly a sissy boy. Which meant that Mr. Carmichael Sr. had probably been a world class asshole. Ron, had been the Carmichael's older son. If rumors were to be believed he'd been killed in a bar fight. He may have been tough, but obviously someone had been tougher. Then again, there always is.

"So I can't count on him to do what's necessary."

I didn't like where I thought this was heading, but I kept my mouth shut. I've found I can keep myself out of an awful lot of trouble just by staying quiet.

She paused, waiting for me to say something. When I didn't she gave me an irritated look over the top of her glasses.

"I need someone smart, tough, and ruthless. I had someone check discreetly with the men working for my son. Your name came up repeatedly. They also say you do odd jobs for people, for a price."

"That would depend on the job."

"And the price I assume."

Not necessarily. But I wasn't about to tell her that---yet. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

###

The limo dropped me off a block from the worksite. Apparently Mrs. Carmichael didn't want her "boy" knowing what she was up to. I didn't mind. It gave me time to think. I had a lot to think about.

Jacob Chester.

Shit.

I really hoped it wasn't him. But it probably was. And if it was, Mrs. C was right. Jacob is, was, and always has been, someone with his "eyes on the prize." Just not the prize Mrs. C was thinking of.

Not that he wouldn't take the girl's money. He would. In a red hot second. He'd also take the girl, up to the mountains, to the Children of Abraham encampment where she would be indoctrinated so thoroughly that, if she ever was seen again, her own parents might not even recognize her.

I'm a big fan of God, think he/she does great work. I mean, take a look at the Grand Canyon, a waterfall, the average sunset. Pet a kitten, watch a puppy romp. Look at a newborn baby in its mother's arms. God is good. The Children of Abraham are not. They are a cult, pure and simple, created by Abraham Keene out of his enormous ego, greed, and lust for power.

I'd know.

I was a Child of Abraham.

# # #

I arrived at work fifteen minutes late, and caught hell from the foreman for it. He was standing toe to toe with me, pointing his index finger into the middle of my chest and shouting when Mr. Carmichael came up.

"That's enough Joe. He gets the message."

Joe turned, mouth open to argue, until he realized just who it was talking to him. His eyes got dark, and narrowed, but he didn't argue. He just stepped back a couple of paces, giving me a look that said as clearly as words that this isn't over. I didn't doubt that. Not for a minute. Joe Sanchez hates me. Pure and simple. Don't know why. Don't particularly care, either. I show up every day, on time, do a good job, I keep my nose clean, don't argue or mouth off. So he doesn't have any ammo to fire me. But he would if he could.

"Boone, come with me to the office. We need to talk." Mr. Carmichael smiled, nice and friendly. It just pissed Joe off more. Carmichael cared even less than I did. Old Mrs. C might not think he was tough, but everybody on the site sure did. If Joe crossed him, Carmichael would fire his ass faster than you can say jackrabbit, despite the fact that Joe's worked for the company twenty years and has a passel of young kids to raise.

I followed Carmichael to the corner of the site where one of those classic silver Airstream travel trailers was parked. For small jobs it stays on the company lot. But we'd won the bid to re-roof all of the dorm buildings for the local college, so we were going to be here a while, and the old man wanted to be on site making there were no grounds for complaint about how we behaved around the co-eds. Thus far, everybody'd been behaving pretty well. A couple of guys got injured because they were distracted by some sunbathers, but that had been bound to happen.

Carmichael climbed the trio of metal steps and opened the door "Darlene," he called. "Go buy yourself some breakfast or something."

"Yessir." Darlene hustled up from the back, where the bedroom area had been converted into an office. She took the twenty he pulled from his wallet with a big smile. "Can I get you anything?"

"Naw. I'm good. And Boone here won't be staying long."

"All righty then." She squeezed through the doorway past the boss with a little extra wiggle and teetered off toward the parking lot where the "BurritoMan" truck was waiting. We both watched her go. Today she was dressed in jeans that were practically painted on, and that had been bedazzled as heavily as one of Elvis' jumpsuits. Big hair, big boobs, high heels: she was flashy, a little trashy, and hard as nails. But somehow the whole thing worked for her---at least as far as Carmichael was concerned. I pretended not to see his hand twitch as he fought not to patt her on the ass as she passed.

"Come in. Sit down." He gestured through the door at the built-in dining area across from the miniscule kitchenette.

When I was comfortably seated he pulled a pair of cups from the cabinet, pouring us each a cup of coffee. He set mine in front of me and took a seat.

"So, tell me Boone. What did my mother want you to do that she doesn't want me to know about?"

###

I took a long pull from the coffee, buying myself time to decide how to answer. The drink was smooth, rich , but with enough caffeine to give me the requisite kick in the ass to start the day.  You'd think it was a completely different beverage than the harsh brew the "BurritoMan" serves of the same name.

Carmichael stared at me. He started out with a good, hard glare. But as I took my time his eyes started to sparkle, and the muscle at the corner of his mouth began to twitch. A relief really. I didn't want to piss him off. I like my job, and I'm good at it. Also, unlike a lot of the folks I've worked for he doesn't have 'cash flow problems.' He makes his payroll. On time. Every time.
"Let me guess, she told you not to talk?"

I smiled.

"Okay, fair enough. I'll tell you what I think. You just sit there. Don't say a thing. I'll know when I'm getting warm."

I wasn't too sure about that. I'm an excellent poker player. On the other hand, keeping the boss happy is seldom a bad thing. So maybe I'd be a little less stoic than usual. Or not. Either way, I was stuck here. Might as well enjoy the coffee, make the best of it.

"It's a family thing. Mom only sticks her nose in on family business."

I sipped my coffee.

Carmichael smiled, sure he was right. "Okay, it's not me. She knows better than to interfere in my life."

I doubted that, but kept my mouth shut and wished, heartily, for something to eat. If it hadn't been for Mrs. C I'd have arrived in time to buy myself a breakfast burrito. Now I wouldn't be seeing any food until lunch. Dammit.

"So, I have three daughters. Amanda's married, moved off to Utah. No problems there. Paid off the ex and she's remarried, so she's out. That leaves the twins -- Cookie and Candi."

I didn't say anything, unless you count my stomach growling, which it did . . . loudly. Carmichael rolled his eyes. Hauling himself awkwardly up from his chair he strode down to the door, threw it open and bellowed loud enough to be heard in the next county. "Darlene, grab me a couple burritos." He glanced back at me, taking in my size and changed his mind. "Make that four of 'em, and a couple of donuts." He slammed the door and stomped back over.

"Where was I?"

"Cookie and Candi." I prompted him. After all, he was buying breakfast, and the coffee really was excellent. I'd have to find out what blend it was. Maybe I'd get some for the coffeemaker back home. Of course I'd probably have to share it with Trey. But still, it might be worth it.

"Right." He turned the chair backward and swung his leg around it. Leaning forward, he rested his forearms on the chair back. It was supposed to look casual, tough and masculine.  But he was too short to really do it well. He looked uncomfortable as hell. But I didn't say anything. Nope.

"Cookie is tough and smart. She can handle herself."

I didn't laugh. I didn't snort. Hard as it was, I maintained my composure. Even when the words 'a tough cookie' flashed through my mind.

"So, it has to be Candi."

Bingo. Right on the money.   I took another sip of coffee and prayed he wouldn't say Candi was sweet. I mean, my self control is good. But there's only so much a man can handle---boss or no.

Carmichael stopped talking. Just . . . stopped. He was thinking hard enough that I could almost hear the gears whirring, half-expected smoke to come out of his ears. After what seemed like an eternity he looked me straight in the eyes and asked a question I had no answer for -- yet.

"How much trouble is my little girl in?"

# # #

SATURDAY EVENING POST/VISITING DIGNITARY BRAD SINOR

2012-01-21T15:00:00.000-08:00

ALL RIGHTY GUYS -- The "rain" has let up. SO I can now post a bonus Visiting Dignitary. I give to you a wonderful guy and terrific writer. BRAD SINOR (WILD APPLAUSE AND CHEERING PLEASE).

Hi Brad! It's been a while, but Ihope you and Sue are doing well. Thanks for stopping by theblog.

I’m glad to be here

So, what have you been up to lately?

Writing like a madman at times. It seems like I finish one story and there are several more that are waiting to be done. I’m currentlyediting a novella, attempting to get a long delayed collaborativestory finished, working on another collaboration (my collaboratorjust sent me her additions to the manuscript), I have one novelwaiting to be edited, another waiting to be finished and I’mresearching and outlining another. Spare time? Hmmm…isn’t thatbetween 3:10 and 3:15 a.m.?

Any new projects out?

Ihad a new collection of stories come out last year, along with a Where The Shadows Began and Other Stories from Merry BlacksmithPress, along with a bunch of short stories in various anthologies;like the revived Heroes in Hell series

What's your calendar like for the nextfew months?

I have a story in The Many Faces of Arsene Lupin (BlackCoat Press) coming in the next couple of months, I’ll also have astory in the next entry in the Heroes in Hell series, Adventurers inHell which will be out soon. There are several other things but Idon’t have release dates for them yet.

You have a pretty substantial backlist,when did you start writing?

The earliest thing I canremember writing was scripts for comic books when I was in gradeschool. I started submitting stuff in high school but that all gotrejected. Thankfully copies of what I was writing then no longerexist.

Can you give us a link to your fullbacklist and where we can get copies? I’ll be setting up a newwebsite in the next few months and will have a full bibliographythere.

Right now you can find most of my stuff through Amazon. Alsoif you check the Grantville Gazette website, which is part of the1632 series created by Eric Flint you will find stories I have done,in collaboration with the highly talented Tracy Morris, in variousissues.

If you had to be stuck on a desertisland for say, a week, with one of your characters, who would it beand why?

Now that’s a tough one. Probably itwould be Lancelot du Lac (yes, the dude from Camelot). I’ve done 5stories about him and have more planned. Yes, he’s a vampire but Idon’t hold that against him. Besides he’s survived for over 1,400years so he would have to have some serious survival skills, not tomention some really neat stories to tell; he did hang out with KingArthur and Merlin after all!

Who are some of your favorite authors?

You mean besides myself or Sue? (Grin). Seriously though inSF/Fantasy that would probably be C.J. Cherryh.. In mystery/thrillerthat would have to Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child. In the horrorgenre Christopher Golden, Brian Keene and Jonathan Maberry.

What draws you to their work?

Theycreate characters that you care about, that you want to see surviveeven though the world itself is teetering on the brink, and in somecases has gone over the edge, of totally insanity.

Do you listen to music when youwrite? Very rarely.

If so, what?

When I do it’s usuallyinstrumental stuff, Celtic and jazz with a mixture of some moviesound tracks thrown in.

What one bit of advice would you giveto aspiring writers?

Write, write and then go back and writesome more. Don’t try to look at a market and see what the hot trendis, write the story that you want to read.

Would it be all right if I post thisonto the website I share with Cathy?

Of course.

I have to admit I had huge fun doingThe Rosie Hughes Project (for those of you who don't know what itwas, I did a "blog ring" with Brad, Sue, CathyClamp, Rachel Caine and Jackie Kessler that was based its veryown vampire mythos. It was a HOOT. You can follow it bylooking in my blog for "The Rosie Hughes Project" andfollowing links).

I had a blast doing my part of it.Maybe at some point we can come up with a way to do a print versionor perhaps an e-book.

What other fun things have you beendoing with other authors, if any?

Actually I am. Sue and I arecollaborating on a new story. Tracy Morris and I have started workon the 5^th story in a series we are doing, people keeptelling me its funny and I credit that all to her.

Will you be at any of the cons thisyear for appearances? (Note to readers -- 'Rosie' was cooked upin the computer room of one of the cons.)

Sue and I will be attending ConDFW inFeb., then there will be several cons in May and June.

Thanks so much for coming by. Hope to see you and Sue soon!

VISITING DIGNITARY - FAITH HUNTER!

2012-01-18T07:03:00.000-08:00

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN -- Faith Hunter is our Visiting Dignitary this week and has decided to give us a very different take on the usual "interview". Instead of interviewing Faith, we will have a Chinese Portrait of Jane Yellowrock and Beast. ENJOY! And thank you so much Faith!

ChinesePortraits have been around for years, but they are a Q&A interview unlikeany other. Instead of the usual, “Tell us how you got started writing,” type ofquery, the questions in a Chinese Portrait dig deeper, into the psyche of aperson (or a character) and reveal the hidden depths. Or, God forbid, the lackof them!

JaneYellowrock is the main character of the series that bears her name. Skinwalker,BloodCross, Mercy Blade, and Raven Cursed are the currentbooks, with out in Oct. 2012. Author Faith Hunter

Chineseportrait of Jane Yellowrock and Beast

If you were a work of art?

Jane: A fine, handmade blade, with a crosshatched handlefor a good grip. Oh yes!

Beast: (Chuffs in displeasure. Flicks ear tabs,annoyed.) What is art? Beast does not need blade. Beast has claws and killingteeth. I am not some word I do not understand. Not silly game I do notunderstand.

Jane: Art is like a painting or a … Never mind.

If you were a quality?

Jane: I would want to be strong, like the oak thatbends but doesn’t break, or the willow that flows with the wind rather thantrying to stand up to it. Lately, my life nothing but fighting and trouble andI need the calm strength of nature. I need a vacation, maybe camping near ariver.

Beast: (Chuffs.) Silly Jane. Jane cannot be tree. Janeis animal. But Jane is alone and needs mate. Strong mate. I would look for goodmate for Jane.

Jane: That’s not what a quality is, Beast. Aquality is—

Beast: Good hunter. I am good hunter. (Turns noseaway.) Hunter is good quality. Silly humans.

If you were a flaw?

Jane: for the last few months I’ve been nothing butguilt, even though most of the poop-hits-fan-stuff has not been my fault. Hmmm. I need to stop being guilty.

Beast: Beast is good hunter. Beast has no flaws.(Flicks up ear tab and looks away, bored. Spots movement out the window.Squirrels racing around tree.) Squirrels are small and tasty but hard to catch.One bite and gone. Need deer.

Jane: We’re in the middle of an interview, here.

Beast: (Huffs with disdain.) Want to hunt.

If you were a sound?

Jane: Hmmm. The sound of blades clashing.

Beast: Jane needs mate. Should be sounds of mating. WantBruiser. And Leo. And Rick. (Chuffs and shows Jane image of very big bed.Covers are slashed by claws.)

Jane: Oh crap. We can talk about this later. Later!

If you were a song/music?

Jane: (Shakes off irritation with Beast.) I likedrums. Something primitive and building in tempo and intensity. Something I candance to.

Beast: Scream of Puma concolor. Scream–song thatchallenges, that claims hunting ground.

If you were a word?

Jane: I would be persistent. Unrelenting anddetermined. Of course, when my writer was growing up, she was told thatpersistence was the Devil’s finest quality, so perhaps that isn’t such a goodword after all.

Beast: I am Beast and beast. Do not understand thisgame. Need to hunt, to bring deer. (Looks around. Squirrels are gone.) No deer here. Rabbit? Goat? Writer wrote newscene. She let me eat a goat in book 5.

Jane: She did what?!?

Beast: (Huffs with laughter) I like writer. Shefeeds me.

If you were a book?

Jane: (Looks back at previous question-and-answers.Worries. Shakes head. Sighs.) Dangerous question, that. You know. Since I’m in aseries. If I pick one I’m not in, will I disappear?

Beast: Not a book. (Lifts lips to show killingteeth.) Not a book.

If you were a motto/a quotation?

Jane: Have Stakes Will Travel.

Beast: Embrace Your Inner Beast.

Jane: (laughs)

If you were a movie?

Jane: The Vampire Lestsat. Or the Buffy TV shows.

Beast: Born Free. (Huffs with amusement.)

Jane: (Rolls eyes.)

If you were a time period?

Jane: Anytime where women can wear pants. Fightingin a dress is just stupid.

Beast: Time before yunega came and made Cherokee to leave land in mountains, and thentook trees, and burned the land. White man is evil. Time before he came wasgood time. (Turns away.) Stupid question.

If you were a personage of fiction?

Jane: Hmmm. Cat woman?

Beast: (Snorts with amusement) Jane is cat woman.

If you were an animal?

Jane andBeast look at one another.

Jane: Ummm. Have you not read my books?

FaithHunter

www.faithhunter.net

https://www.facebook.com/official.faith.hunter

Life, the Universe and Everything

2012-01-18T03:25:00.000-08:00

Okay, went back to the oral surgeon. The incisions are not infected, just healing a bit slowly. Good news. As long as it's not infected I'm going back on the exercise track. Which is cool. All of the weight I had re-gained over Christmas is going (although more from my bust than anywhere else AGAIN) or gone from the whole "oral surgery" diet. So I might as well continue the healthy trend.

Life right now is interesting. I am at a stage in my life where I need to think hard about direction and my future. What do I want? What don't I want? What am I willing to do to get it? What am I not willing to do? These are the big "directional" questions I ask myself periodically to make sure I am headed where I need/want to be and not letting life sweep me off somewhere I consider less acceptable. Simple questions. Not such simple answers.

But being seriously thoughtful takes time. Which is important. But which also means that something else is being shoved out of that time slot. I am behind on EVERYTHING. It's annoying. So as I am now coming close to having my current batch of answers I am scrambling to get back on track.

I THOUGHT I had the interview in my file for the Visiting Dignitary today. Darned if I can find it. I wrote the said Dignitary. If SHE can find it I will post it today. Otherwise, this will be the second week with a rain delay as it were. My fault. Should have been on top of things. But I have come to the conclusion that I can't do everything perfectly all the time. So we will fix it and move on.

I also can't undo the past. If there's a screw up back there, all I can do is fix it to the best of my ability and move on.

I am not perfect.

Ah well. Today, at this precise moment, I like me anyway.

So there.

Saturday Evening Post

2012-01-14T14:20:00.000-08:00

"Good Evening, and Welcome to Masterpiece Blogger, I'm Alistair . . ."

Yeah, right.

Okay, it's Saturday, it's evening. It's time for the Saturday evening post. If only I had something scintillating, titillating or anything else lating to post. Alas, not so much. So I'll just blather a bit.

First, the neighbors across the street are moving. He got promoted and relocated. They haven't sold their house yet, but they're making a leap of faith. This is fine. Wish them well, etc. Except the movers have been going back and forth in front of the house and it's driving Lucky the Wonder Dog absolutely bug bats. In order not to endure that, I packed my purse and headed off to the nearest city and did some serious grocery shopping. Spent too much, which right now is just about unavoidable because of prices and the fact that it's the beginning of the year and all the beginning of the year stuff is due. But there you go.

We've gotten some of the reviews in on The Isis Collar and it's a mixed bag. Some are wonderful. Some are not. But until we hear from the actual readers I don't get too excited or too worried either one. The readers are the ones who count. I know that I don't look at reviews when I buy a book. In fact, only one person I know does. But be sure to let me know what you think when the book comes out, and those of you who got ARCs might let me know now if you get a chance.

The proposal has gone out. I am excited. I'm hoping to get the first draft of the silly thing finished before the edits come back on The Eldritch Conspiracy. I HAD hoped to get it done before the end of the year, but it didn't happen.

Okay, I'm running out of blather and I am HUNGRY. I missed lunch. So off to an early dinner.

Later!

Cie

WHOOO HOOO!

2012-01-12T04:14:00.000-08:00

All righty then. First, the teeth are improving. Still draining/seeping a bit, which is a pain in the patootie (well, actually a pain in the mouth) and tastes foul, but every day they hurt less and the swelling is going down. Still, I think I'll call the oral surgeon and see if he thinks it's taking too long, or that the foul taste might mean an infection. Better safe than sorry. Still haven't had a Pepsi, which is HARD, but while this oral surgeon said I could have carbonated beverages, all previous ones said NO, and I do worry until it stops seeping. But I DO miss my Pepsi.

On the other hand, the oral surgery diet (which doesn't exist officially, but has, in fact, consisted of a lot of soup) has done wonders for getting me back on track. I'd re-gained some of the weight I'd lost over the holidays, and it is mostly going the way of the dodo again. Yay.

It has been a rough couple of weeks for the Adams clan. My father is (YAY, YAHOO, YIPPEE) out of the hospital and recovering, but a bit slowly to his tastes; my son fell at work and sprained his ankle (and has been trying to use crutches in snow and ice); my sister had oral surgery to remove one tooth; I had oral surgery to remove two. But we are all recovering, and I'm grateful. Here's hoping Mom and Tim both stay healthy!

AND THE GOOD NEWS IS -- got the proposal and pages back from the agent. She actually LIKES them. :) Yes, there were edits. There are always edits. But while I can write a book (and have been do so for a decade now), I normally suck scum covered pond rocks at writing proposals (even after the book is written, which would technically make it a summary for sale I suppose, but they call them proposals). I mean, seriously, you want me to summarize an entire novel, the world, all the characters and show any future plans in a couple of pages? AND you want me to do it in a way that hooks professional editors who are notoriously wary of said hooks? Oh, CRAP.

But it is done. It is edited. It is back with the agent for a second review. Toes crossed that I have addressed the concerns she had. (Fingers are for typing).

And now I must get back to life, exercise, get ready for the day job, and all that happy schtoof. But today it is HAPPY schtoof.

Everybody have a great day.

Cie

Visiting Dignitary/Brad Sinor - Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa.

2012-01-11T03:56:00.000-08:00

For those of you who aren't old and Catholic, and/or haven't brushed up on your Latin. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa is very loosely translated to "my fault, my fault SOOOOOOO my fault."

Today my friend Brad Sinor was scheduled to be the Visiting Dignitary. It's been on the books for a while. But then the holidays came. And my oral surgery came. And guess what? I didn't get the questions for the interview out to him. Nope. Just didn't. Complete screw up.

The only thing I can say in my defense is that I'm completely and totally phobic about the dentist. So oral surgery was a HUGE bad thing for me. Took up all my thought processes just getting myself geared up and doing it. That I did is a BIG PROUD MOMENT for me. BUT now my schedule is screwed and the resting and recuperating, while necessary, aren't helping me get back on my feet.

SO, instead of a clever interview with Brad, you get an apology from me, and a note that I DID finally get questions to him, and as soon as he sends them back I WILL put his dignitary post up, it just may not be on a Wednesday, and won't be today.

I'm sorry.

Cie

Teeth are Healing, Life is Pretty Good

2012-01-09T04:33:00.000-08:00

Had the oral surgery I was dreading on Friday. It went well and quickly. I have spent the weekend recovering. It'll be a few more days, but thus far it's going well. I no longer need the pain meds unless something stupid happens (like the cat stepping on that side of my face when I'm asleep).

Once it's healed then I have to move on to the next things. I'm behind on everything because, oddly, when I'm having all sorts of panic about something I'm not good at taking care of ordinary business. And yes, I'm phobic about the dentist. There's a long story behind why. But it doesn't matter. I am. That's enough. So I am also, oddly, proud of myself for digging up my courage to take care of this.

I did post on the blog over the weekend, including the Breakfast Serial. I'm not sure how good it was (pain pills and all), but I did it.

But now it's time to get ready for work. Be well, be happy.

Cie

Sunday Morning Breakfast Serial

2012-01-08T03:00:00.000-08:00

Who in the @#$% is Boone Carter?

I arrived at work fifteen minutes late, and caught hell from the foreman for it. He was standing toe to toe with me, pointing his index finger into the middle of my chest and shouting when Mr. Carmichael came up.

"That's enough Joe. He gets the message."

Joe turned, mouth open to argue, until he realized just who it was talking to him. His eyes got dark, and narrowed, but he didn't argue. He just stepped back a couple of paces, giving me a look that said as clearly as words that this isn't over. I didn't doubt that. Not for a minute. Joe Sanchez hates me. Pure and simple. Don't know why. Don't particularly care, either. I show up every day, on time, do a good job, I keep my nose clean, don't argue or mouth off. So he doesn't have any ammo to fire me. But he would if he could.

"Boone, come with me to the office. We need to talk." Mr. Carmichael smiled, nice and friendly. It just pissed Joe off more. Carmichael cared even less than I did. Old Mrs. C might not think he was tough, but everybody on the site sure did. If Joe crossed him, Carmichael would fire his ass faster than you can say jackrabbit, despite the fact that Joe's worked for the company twenty years and has a passel of young kids to raise.

I followed Carmichael to the corner of the site where one of those classic silver Airstream travel trailers was parked. For small jobs it stays on the company lot. But we'd won the bid to re-roof all of the dorm buildings for the local college, so we were going to be here a while, and the old man wanted to be on site making there were no grounds for complaint about how we behaved around the co-eds. Thus far, everybody'd been behaving pretty well. A couple of guys got injured because they were distracted by some sunbathers, but that had been bound to happen.

Carmichael climbed the trio of metal steps and opened the door "Darlene," he called. "Go buy yourself some breakfast or something."

"Yessir." Darlene hustled up from the back, where the bedroom area had been converted into an office. She took the twenty he pulled from his wallet with a big smile. "Can I get you anything?"

"Naw. I'm good. And Boone here won't be staying long."

"All righty then." She squeezed through the doorway past the boss with a little extra wiggle and teetered off toward the parking lot where the "BurritoMan" truck was waiting. We both watched her go. Today she was dressed in jeans that were practically painted on, and that had been bedazzled as heavily as one of Elvis' jumpsuits. Big hair, big boobs, high heels: she was flashy, a little trashy, and hard as nails. But somehow the whole thing worked for her---at least as far as Carmichael was concerned. I pretended not to see his hand twitch as he fought not to patt her on the ass as she passed.

"Come in. Sit down." He gestured through the door at the built-in dining area across from the miniscule kitchenette.

When I was comfortably seated he pulled a pair of cups from the cabinet, pouring us each a cup of coffee. He set mine in front of me and took a seat.

"So, tell me Boone. What did my mother want you to do that she doesn't want me to know about?"

Saturday Evening Post (a little early)

2012-01-07T13:23:00.000-08:00

Hi Guys!

Okay, I'm currently awake and not due for the pain meds for a little while, so I am coherent enough to post.

Had two broken teeth surgically removed yesterday. I was very good, and reasonably brave. (Which considering I am phobic about dentists was very good indeed). Once these heal up I will be able to get my mind back on other things, but my life sort of stopped when I was worrying about this and all it entails.

Thus, I did not have a visiting dignitary this past week, did not mail prizes to winners, and did not get the artwork so that I could make the revisions and get the individual website up and running. It will happen. Just not for a few days.

Sorry, but just couldn't.

Cie

Sunday Morning Breakfast Serial Thoughts

2012-01-01T07:43:00.000-08:00

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Okay, that's done.

Now, at this point in a story I usually ask myself a couple of questions.

1) How's it going?
2) Does it have legs? (i.e., is it going to be a marathoner [1 or more novels] or a sprinter [short story], or is it falling on its face and need to be put down like a rabid dog?
3) Do I like the character? Does he/she interest me? Do I "know" him/her? (In the best stories the characters come to me pretty much fully formed. As I write I get different perspectives on them, learn various complexities, etc.) I figure if I don't find the character interesting, why should readers?
4) Do I have ideas as to where the plot is going? It's very easy to get caught up in character and forget that there's supposed to be a story going on.
5) Is this making sense?
6) Should I continue, or drop it?

SO, looking at Boone.

1) Not bad. Not perfect, but I'm having fun.
2) Yup. This one's a runner. In fact, I've actually had ideas for a freaking SERIES of books off of him. Don't know if I have time to pursue it, but it definitely has legs.
3) Yup again. Boone is unique. Tortured past. Shady present. Very male.
4) Yup. Can't seem to write the silly thing fast enough. Which I CAN'T afford right now. I have a book to finish, and all sorts of work to get done.
5) To me, yes.
6) I would like to continue. But should it continue on the blog? The blog is a freebie, and doesn't have much of an audience? BUT, I don't have time to do this as a book right now, and the blog lets me explore and get input from my few faithful followers. ("FFF's") And it's wrong to be a tease, to start here and then leave people hanging. Do that any I may not have even FEW FF's.

So, for the moment: Decision made. Continue with Boone & Co. here on the blog.

Sunday Morning Breakfast Serial

2012-01-01T04:48:00.000-08:00

HAPPY NEW YEAR ALL!

(Hey Cathy - rabbit, rabbit, rabbit.)

People make New Year's Resolutions/Goals. I have lots of them.

It's good to have goals.

One of my goals was to be in an anthology with Neil Gaiman. Neil Gaiman is one of my son's favorite authors. He (and Jim Butcher among others) are freaking brilliant. Since at one point Mr. Gaiman and I had the same agent I pulled together my courage and tried to interest him in participating in an anthology. Sadly, since I have the social skills of a rabid skunk, I wound up sounding like a particularly deranged fan girl. Drove him away (in a Maserati doing 90.) Sigh.

BUT as luck would have it. I WOUND UP IN AN ANTHOLOGY WITH NEIL GAIMAN. Pure luck, fate, kismet. Whatever. It didn't sell worth a damn as far as I can tell, but I was (and am) delighted. I have a copy (it's a HARDBACK no less).

I have a new goal. I would now like to wind up in an antho with Jim Butcher, Charlaine Harris, and Laurell K. Hamilton. (Not necessarily all at once. I'd probably swoon and make a fool of myself. At least the Maserati could only seat two of them as it sped off.) Besides, I actually have met and spent time with these three folks. They know I am no danger to them. (Even if I do have the social skills of a rabid skunk).

Okay, enough of that. I am in a wonderful mood and it is time to write. My first project, the next installment in the serial.

************************************

Who in the @#$*&@#$ is Boone Carter

The limo dropped me off a block from the worksite. Apparently Mrs. Carmichael didn't want her "boy" knowing what she was up to. I didn't mind. It gave me time to think. I had a lot to think about.

Jacob Chester.

Shit.

I really hoped it wasn't him. But it probably was. And if it was, Mrs. C was right. Jacob is, was, and always has been, someone with his "eyes on the prize." Just not the prize Mrs. C was thinking of.

Not that he wouldn't take the girl's money. He would. In a red hot second. He'd also take the girl, up to the mountains, to the Children of Abraham encampment where she would be indoctrinated so thoroughly that, if she ever was seen again, her own parents might not even recognize her.

I'm a big fan of God, think he/she does great work. I mean, take a look at the Grand Canyon, a waterfall, the average sunset. Pet a kitten, watch a puppy romp. Look at a newborn baby in its mother's arms. God is good. The Children of Abraham are not. They are a cult, pure and simple, created by Abraham Keene out of his enormous ego, greed, and lust for power.

I'd know.

I was a Child of Abraham.

Saturday Evening Post

2011-12-31T16:30:00.000-08:00

This is the Saturday Evening Post.

Today I'm talking about the 'death of the blog'.

I've been told that blogs are "dead." Nobody's interested. People have short attention spans and would much rather friend you on FaceBook or follow you on Twitter.   It's like newspapers in a digital world.

I've watched much beloved blogs with big followings bite the dust because the authors of them really, seriously don't have time to devote to them. I've watched clever group blogs go the way of the dodo---again because the authors decided they'd get more "bang" for their buck on FaceBook and Twitter.

I am not killing this blog.

There may only be a couple of followers. I may be shouting into the vacuum. But I will be SHOUTING into the freaking vacuum.

Because while I like FaceBook well enough, and do occasionally stop by there. I find it's a time sink. And they have changed the rules. Now I have all these people I'm evidently getting updates on who I have no clue who they are (I think they're readers who friended me first, but I honestly am not sure) and all of the people I actually know I get nada on. Now, I grant that it is kind of cool to meet the new people, and they do have interesting lives with drama and so forth. But I don't KNOW them. It's like watching reality TV. I don't get the point. I realize this makes me odd. But, well, THAT'S not exactly news. I mean COME ON, I've been "odd" since the day I was born. One of my favorite tee-shirts (that I need to buy when I find it again dammit) says:

                     "DON'T GET EVEN. GET ODD."

I believe it was an "Emily the Strange." I LOVED Emily. So very me.

I do not love Twitter.

Yes.   I know. There are those who would now put me before a firing squad AFTER lecturing me on how WONDERFUL Twitter is. It is the latest/greatest/new ohmiGAWD thing.

But it's SHORT. You have to be pithy.

I do pith. But not at 4:00-6:00 in the morning. Which is when I usually wind up posting. Too, most of the people who I would like to have tweeting conversations with are not UP at 4:00-6:00 in the morning. (Have I told you I'm jealous? If not. I'm telling you now. I'm freaking JEALOUS of people who don't have to squeeze in the writing and internet stuff before they get ready for the day job.)

So I say PITH ON IT. So there.

Besides which, Twitter, for reasons only known to computer gurus and God does not like working on my computer. Nine out of ten times when I try to post it gives me the "We're sorry. Something's wrong. Try again in a few seconds." DUDE I only HAVE a few seconds. You are being sandwiched in between feeding the animals, taking my meds, writing and getting ready for the day job.

I do not need to be frustrated at 4:38 in the freaking morning. It sets a bad precedent for the whole day. It also destroys what little pith I may have managed to dredge up from the bowels of my psyche.

"BUT" you say, "typing the blog actually takes LONGER."

"DUDE" I say, (yeah, I'm old enough to still say dude. Laugh if you want. I can quote Hill Street Blues and The West Wing too. Even the original Sherlock Holmes, in PRINT, from before when Robert Downey Jr. was even born.) "I can do the stream of consciousness stuff in my sleep." (And have.) I type between 100-120 WPM. This is easier than falling off a greased log.

SO, I will blog, into the darkness and the void. And I will cherish the folks who actually read and (gasp) LIKE longer formats. But one of these days I will actually go onto FaceBook and try to figure out how to follow the people I actually know.

But not today. I have a to-do list to get tah-done.

Guys, have fun this New Year's Eve, but "Be careful out there."

Stuff.

2011-12-30T04:09:00.000-08:00

It's really sad when "sleeping in" is 6:00 a.m. Nobody told me when I was a kid and wanted to grow up ever so fast that this was part of being a grown-up.

Got some serious stuff on the schedule today. First, I have to get cooking on the book. I had wanted to get it finished by the end of the year, but I sent the first half to my son for a read through (before it goes to the other beta readers) and he had some things he wanted to see, so I had to go back and do some edits. I think it's stronger, but it did put me behind schedule.

Next, I have to actually PAY for the art for the new launch of the individual website, then revise said website. And YES I can do websites, but I'm SOOOOOO slow at it. So it's going to take a big chunk of time.

AND I need to go through all of the e-mails from my various author friends and put their releaeses on the calendar on the new website, and NAG the other friends who haven't responded.

And that's just the writing stuff. The "real" life has all sorts of things that have reached "critical mass."

For example, because of the drought, all summer there was no grass, so no need to mow. NOW, in DECEMBER we got rain and I have weeds up to my knees that have to be brought low. Since I refuse to mow in the rain, or the cold, today's going to be a good day to do it. Weather said sunny and 70ish.

There's so much more that it depresses me just thinking about it.  So I won't. I will just take it one step at a time. And eventually it will all get done, or at least enough of it that I'm not losing my mind over it.

Everybody have a GREAT NEW YEAR!  "Be careful out there." (Okay, how many of you are old enough to recognize that quote from Hill Street Blues?)

WHERE WE'RE AT

2011-12-29T03:25:00.000-08:00

OKAY, I'm trying to get on top of things. (Which is harder than it sounds.) Things I've accomplished include:

Getting Visiting Dignitaries scheduled through April.

Finding the additional art for the new website and negotiating with the artist. (Now I have to pay for it and get it up online for the January 1 launch date).

Getting straight in my head where Boone Carter is going. (It is written on the spot, but I can't help thinking about it. "What if . . . " I haven't made decisions, but I have a general direction. I think. Unless something more interesting comes to my head.)

I've got beta readers for when I have the draft of the first individual book finished. (Hoping for the 1st of the year, but I should've written this weekend and didn't. Was fried. Tried to write and wound up with smelly, stinking crap on the page. So took a break.)

I have the paperwork for the beta readers (my day job is in a law office. Of COURSE I have paperwork. Duh.)

Still need to work out the January questions. (I don't want to continue with the same old questions every month. But I'm not Barbara Walters, so interviewing doesn't come naturally for me.)

Still need to go through and add the release dates for everybody new to the calendar on the new website and make sure I haven't missed anybody.

Lots more, but I want to stop now so that I can get to the actual BOOK. Which needs to get written. It is SOOOOOOOO easy to get distracted by all of the other "stuff" you need to do that you don't wind up writing.

BAAAAAD Author. No cookie.

Cie

VISITING DIGNITARY/COLLEEN COBLE

2011-12-28T03:16:00.000-08:00

ALL RIGHTY LADIES AND GENTS -- PLEASE PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR OUR MOST RECENT GUEST -- COLLEEN COBLE! (WOOT WOOT)

HI!

It's good to hear from you again. It's been a while. I understand you've been very busy. What have you been working on?

Good to hear from you, Cie! I've been working a the first book in the Hope Beach series set in the Outer Banks. And of course I had to visit to make sure everything was accurate. :)

What releases do you have coming out in 2012?
Blue Moon Promise ships in late January. It's a historical marriage of convenience story, and of course, has lots of mystery and suspense laced through it. In July Tidewater Inn ships. It's a contemporary novel that starts off with a bang. Libby is watching on a harbor cam and sees her friend and business partner kidnapped. When she arrives at Hope Beach, she discovers a family she didn't know existed. Lots of mystery and atmosphere.

You have a fairly significant backlist? How many books have you written? Can you give us the titles?

Somewhere around 43 books. My Rock Harbor novels (Without a Trace, Beyond a Doubt, Into the Deep, Abomination, Cry in the Night) are very popular with my readers. There are 4 books in the Aloha Reef series set in Hawaii (Distant Echoes, Black Sands, Dangerous Depths, Midnight Sea) and Distant Echoes is available right now at Dollar General for $3. I did a historical romantic mystery series that's been very popular too called the Mercy Falls series (The Lightkeeper's Daughter, The Lightkeeper's Bride, The Lightkeeper's Ball.) My Lonestar books are hugely popular because they are all marriage of convenience stories set in Texas. My newest release, Lonestar Angel, is the 4th in that series. The others are: Lonestar Sanctuary, Lonestar Secrets, Lonestar Homecoming. The only series that needs to be read in order is the Rock Harbor one. The others can be read out of order. I also have several standalone novels: Alaska Twilight, Fire Dancer, Anathema.

The other books are out of print mass markets.

If you had to be “stuck in an elevator” with one of your characters for several hours, who would it be and what would you talk about?

I would love to chat with Bree, the heroine of the Rock Harbor novels. She has an amazing search dog, Samson, and I'm just fascinated with all the search dogs can do.

Do you listen to music as you write? If so, which artists? What is your playlist?

No, I can't concentrate with music playing, not even instrumentals. I wish I could!

The business of writing is changing rapidly. Do you find the change scary? Invigorating? How (if at all) have you changed your career plans/path as a result?

Oh it is! The biggest change has been the rise of e-books. It's a great opportunity for us to bring back out of prints book though, and I'm in the process of making those old books available in digital.

What is one key bit of advice you would give to a prospective writer?

Read craft books. I always have a book on craft in my hand. I also study how other writers in my genre do it. I'm always reading. :)

Now Colleen being the gracious lady she is has offered a giveaway of her newest release for one commenter drawn at random. So be sure to stop by and say hi, ask any questions you want, and generally make her feel welcome!

(AND FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO ARE CURIOUS THIS IS THE SYNOPSIS)

For Eden, hope is rekindled when her estranged husband delivers the astounding news: that their lost baby girl has been found.

Years ago Eden and Clay Larson’s baby was stolen. Kidnappers demanded a ransom, but something went horribly wrong at the exchange: the kidnapper’s car crashed into the river and was never recovered. Eden blamed herself, Clay lost himself in work. Their young and rocky marriage ended. Or so Eden thought.
Now she’s met Kent. He’s everything Clay wasn’t: funny, stable, and eager to please her. Just as he’s about to propose marriage at a romantic dinner, Clay arrives and tells Eden she can’t marry Kent. She’s still married to him. He never signed the divorce decree. Even more earth-shattering than this news is that he’s never stopped looking for Brianna. Based on a tip, he thinks their daughter is in Bluebird, Texas, at a youth ranch. All five little girls there are the right age, but he’s not sure which is Brianna.

To discover the truth, the couple becomes counselors to the girls at Bluebird Ranch. They move into small quarters in the bunkhouse and oversee the kids as they try to find out more. As they work together, their love for the children grows and their love for each other is rekindled. But as danger closes in, Eden and Clay realize they’ve been lured to this remote West Texas location; their lives and the lives of the little girls are in danger. But as Eden learns, “hope does not disappoint.”

Back from the Holiday/BREAKFAST SERIAL

2011-12-27T03:07:00.000-08:00

Okay, I had a wonderful holiday. Very rested. Didn't do much. (The to do list did NOT get ta done and I feel GOOD about it because I actually got to do things like READ and RELAX.) Saw Sherlock Holmes with a friend. I still want to see Mission Impossible. Weirdness of mine---a while back when I was having a REALLY frantic day I caught myself humming ---the theme from Mission Impossible. Made me laugh, which improved the day immensely. Now I do it deliberately.

This week the Visiting Dignitary is Colleen Coble. I have to FIND her post and get it ready to go up for y'all. AND, since I promised, today I am doing a delayed breakfast serial.

************************************

Who in the *W@$ is Boone Carter?

"My granddaughter has taken up with an inappropriate man. I want you to discourage him."

I sighed. I couldn't help it. As far as Mrs. Carmichael was concerned I was an inappropriate man. And to my mind the granddaughter could 'take up with' whoever the hell she wanted. Assuming she was of age. Which she was. My boss keeps pictures of the girls on his desk. "No."

"Excuse me?"

It was a simple enough word, if one she hadn't heard much. I didn't figure I needed to explain, even if she wanted me to. So I gave her a beatific glance--all blue eyes and innocence. Her eyes narrowed. So did her nostrils. Most people don't notice the latter. I did, because it made her look like the hated word even smelled bad to her.

"MISter Carter." She said it just like that, heavy emphasis on the first syllable. Being polite, but not really meaning it. I just kept beaming at her. Let her do the heavy conversational lifting. "I am not young, and I am no fool. If this were just adolescent rebellion, or a fling I would stand aside, however distasteful I might find the man." She turned looking out the window for a moment before continuing. "But I know a man with his 'eyes on the prize' when I see it. Jacob Chester is after my daughter's money, plain and simple."

The smile froze on my face. Jacob Chester. No. It couldn't be. It just couldn't. I'd put all that behind me. But it's not a common name.

The old woman turned away from the window. Her eyes met mine, and it was a struggle to keep the fact that she'd rattled me from my face.

"I want you to find him. And discourage him. And I don't want my granddaughter to know you did it. Can you manage that?"

"I'll find him. And I'll tell you where he is. But I won't do any discouraging."

She frowned. "Why not? I'm quite sure you'd be good at it."
I gave her a crooked smile. Yeah, I'd be good at it. I'm big, strong, and tough enough to be pretty damned discouraging. But I don't do anything that might land me on the cops' radar. I'm off grid and intend to stay that way. And no amount of money she'd wave in front of me was worth the risks involved. Particularly if it was Jacob.

But I had to know. So I'd take her money. And I'd find him. If it really was Jacob Chester . . . well, I'd burn that bridge if I came to it.

HOLLY HAPPY DAYS!!!

2011-12-25T03:41:00.000-08:00

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Due to the holiday, the breakfast serial and such are postponed until Monday.

Hope you all have a wonderful holiday (and if you don't celebrate Christmas, have a wonderful day whether it be another holiday, or just a day of your choosing. Live to the fullest. )

Best always!

Cie

GOOD MORNING

2011-12-23T02:53:00.000-08:00

Good morning to all and MERRY CHRISTMAS.

I have the day off from the day job. In FACT the boss has been kind enough that I also have Monday off. WHOO HOOO! This means I can get the schtoof done in my life AND work on the book. The goal is to get the book done by the end of the year and get it to the beta readers.

Heard from one of my artist friends. I think we've worked out a piece of art for the new individual website.

I have a TON of stuff to get up here at the blog, and I have to let our webmistress know about new items for the Craft Corner on the joint website with Cathy.

I'm thinking I may (if I get the place clean!) put photos of my office on the individual website. It seems people are curious about where the actual creating gets done. Anyway, the individual website has a re-launch on January 1 and I HOPE it will be ready.

Okay, off to it. Whether it is breakfast, feeding the critters, or going back to bed.

It's my day off. I get to do what I want.

WHOO HOO!!

VISITING DIGNITARY CAROLE NELSON DOUGLAS

2011-12-21T04:30:00.000-08:00

WELCOME CAROLE!!!

Folks, I want you to give a warm welcome to our guest today. She's a good friend (and is going to be my roommate at RT this spring. She's a veteran writer with a looooooooooong backlist and a great sense of humor. I give you CAROLE NELSON DOUGLAS! (INSERT CHEERS HERE)

All right Carole, the blog is acting up a bit and your pictures keep wandering all over the place. I have no idea how this is going to look. But we are all going to be good sports, ignore my technical difficulties, and move on with the interview. LOL.

It's good to hear from you. It's been a while. What have you been doing to keep yourself busy?

I've been busy promoting my fifth Delilah Street, Paranormal Investigator, novel, Virtual Virgin, which has gotten great reviews from Publishers Weekly and RT Book Reviews. It's set in Delilah's very original and dark "Las Vegas from Hell," but the climax occurs in the desert outside Juarez, where Delilah and her partner, Ric take down a demon drug lord and his zombies on speed.

Then I've been ramping up my own imprint, Wishlist Publishing, to get out my first indie-produced e-book, an original short novel, A Wall Street Christmas Carol, now on Kindle and Nook.

I plan to e-book publish many novellas and short stories my readers probably don't know about, which are related to my three major series, the Midnight Louie feline PI mysteries, the Delilah Street, Paranormal Investigator, paranormal urban fantasies and the Irene Adler Victorian Sherlockian suspense series.

So I'm also getting out an earlier Scrooge take-off, Scrogged: A Cyber Christmas Carol, set around the Enron corporate scandal of a decade ago. And an Irene Adler tale, The Private Wife of Sherlock Holmes. With the new Sherlock Holmes movie coming out this month, that would be a good tie-in.

I'm really excited about A Wall Street Christmas Carol. That subject is so topical now. The book has the feel of the Frank Capra movies where "the people" triumphed over heartless big business and Congress--Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Meet John Doe, and that other Christmas classic, It's a Wonderful Life.

Obviously, the Occupy Wall Street movement touched a nerve, no matter how it turns out. A Wall Street Christmas Carol tells how Caleb Gould, Wall Street billionaire, is confronted with a trio of unusual ghosts to help him find his soul . . . and help other people. Unlike in Charles Dickens' Christmas classic, this "Scrooge" is

a monster of greed, not a miser. It's wicked fun to watch him get his comeuppance, and to discover where that avarice came from.

What releases do you have coming out in 2012?

Coming up is the usual Midnight Louie mystery double-header. His 2011 hardcover, Cat in a Vegas Gold Vendetta, goes to paper in 2012, and his 2012 hardcover, with smashing cover art, arrives in early August. It's called Cat in a White Tie and Tails.

The Midnight Louie series is alphabetically titled, so it's heading closer to the "Z" book. Readers are anxious to learn the romantic fates of the four leading human characters, PR freelance Temple Barr and her former and current boyfriends, magician Max Kinsella and the ex-priest now a media rising star, Matt Devine. There's also the fate of Las Vegas homicide lieutenant Carmen Molina to worry about, as well as Louie and his many four-legged "legmen" and cohorts.

Readers are also anxious about Midnight Louie disappearing with the Z book. I doubt a twenty-pound black alley cat-detective is leaving his famed, and often dangerous, life as a literary lion just because the alphabet ends with a Z. I do expect some closure for the human characters, though.

You have a fairly significant backlist? How many books have you written? Can you give us the titles?

When I was guest of honor at Malice Domestic 23 mystery convention last spring, they asked for my bibliography. I answered, you want just the mystery-suspense novels, of course.

No, they said, short fiction too. Okay, I answered, just the mystery novels and short stories.

No, everything, they replied. Everything? I had to update my listing, which was a good thing to have on hand anyway.

When I sent it in, the reply was: "When do you sleep?"

I've written almost sixty novels and forty pieces of shorter fiction. Most of my current readers don't know about my out-of-print earlier work. I wrote five books for the Loveswept contemporary romance line, including the Midnight Louie Quartet that introduced him as a mystery star. There are three unusual historical romances, a mainstream Gothic, Amberleigh, Fair Wind, Fiery Star (a female swashbuckler) and Lady Rogue.

The five-book Irissa/Kendric series and two Taliswoman novels are both high fantasy series. High fantasy is set in totally imagined worlds. I also have four mainstream women's fiction novels.

And . . . there are eight novels in the Irene Adler series, which is now on its second hiatus: Good Night, Mr. Holmes was a New York Times Notable Book of the Year and won American Mystery and Romantic Times awards. In sequence after that come The Adventuress, A Soul of Steel , Another Scandal in Bohemia, Chapel Noir, Castle Rouge, Femme Fatale and Spider Dance.

If you had to be “stuck in an elevator” with one of your characters for several hours, who would it be and what would you talk about?

That's a really good question. That's pretty much is what writing is, except the elevator is in your head. I think I'd most enjoy being sequestered with Sherlock Holmes and interrogating him to find out what Doyle really was thinking when he gave him the characteristics he did, including his distaste for women . . . except for Irene Adler, of course.

If you could change one of your characters, which one would it be and why?

Once you "build" your characters and set them in motion, they are pretty much their own persons and do surprise you. That's why I wouldn't change a one of them! I can't. It's amazing how you can drop a series for some time, yet always immediately get in the milieu if you write a short story about those characters and that time and place.

Do you listen to music as you write? If so, which artists? What is your playlist?

Everybody has a playlist these days, but I started writing in a busy news room, with typewriters clamoring away and my near neighbors interviewing people on the phone, and photographers and reporters swarming in and out. I learned to drown out ambient noise, so music would be wasted on me.

Also, my favorite songwriters are also poets, Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan, so you

have to concentrate on what they're saying/singing. I love Celtic music and songs, some Swing, and Jimmy Buffet and the Beach Boys for driving music.

I understand you do a lot of crafting to unwind. Any favorites?

Actually, Cie, no, but I'd like to. I don't have time to craft anything, and not much for unwinding. I collected vintage clothes and accessories for fifteen years before I quit my reporting job to write full time, so I picked up many gorgeous fragments of vintage velvet and beadwork I intended to repair. I started on a few items, but the writing and publishing processes soaked up all the spare minutes.

The business of writing is changing rapidly. Do you find the change scary? Invigorating? How (if at all) have you changed your career plans/path as a result?

The radical replacement of print media with digital forms has been a scary process. As an ex-reporter, I couldn't believe it when many newspapers 100 years old or more faded from physical existence, or existence at all.

Midnight Louie's newsletter is called the Scratching-Post Intelligencer, after the Seattle Post- Intelligencer. It's gone, but Louie's little newsletter is still here. Shocking!

Many people I worked with not only lost jobs, they lost another place to go, a profession that was hiring. I've heard heartbreaking stories. People with training who've learned ethics and wisdom from wielding the power of the word in any form have lost jobs and influence.

The same thing with fiction writing. It's all out there, much of it not coming through traditional editing channels. That's a great freedom, but it also results in a lack of quality and responsibility.

That said, with the breakdown of print media has come a greater freedom for professionals who felt hampered by institutions and systems. Now people can publish themselves, and perhaps find a fan base.

So I think the end result is positive, even though the culture seems more chaotic.

What is one key bit of advice you would give to a prospective writer?

You must read a lot, oddly enough, to find your own voice. What you love, and hate, when you read can provide the drive you need to begin to write, and, more importantly, to keep at it.

THANKS SO MUCH FOR COMING BY! Guys, to encourage comments I'm going to offer up a prize, random drawing of the names of all commentors for an ARC of The Isis Collar.

Again, big thanks to Carole for her time.

Sunday Morning Breakfast Serial

2011-12-18T06:00:00.000-08:00

Who in the *@#$ is Boone Carter?
3

The blonde opened the door to the rear compartment. "Get in," she ordered. I stepped forward. When Trey started to follow she blocked his path. "No. This is a private conversation between Mr. Carter and the boss."

I took a look inside the passenger compartment of the limo. The only person there was a little white-haired old lady. Maybe eighty pounds, and probably at least eighty years old. I was betting I could take her in a straight-up fight. Reaching into my pocket I pulled out my truck keys and tossed them back to my rooommate. "It's all right. You take the truck. I'll meet you at the job site."

He looked at me doubtfully. I've never let him drive the truck. It's not much of a vehicle, but it's all I've got. I don't usually trust him with it because he has the attention span of a gnat on speed. He's always distracted. He can't help it. But today I was willing to take a risk. Mainly because I was curious. Who was the old girl and what did she want with me?

"You're sure."

"Positive. Just don't wreck it."

"I," he assured me with a huge grin, "am a great driver."

Yeah, right. And if you believe that one I've got this land in Florida . . . I sighed and climbed in the limo. Either my truck would make it to the job site in one piece or it wouldn't. I'd made my choice. Still, I felt a little chill run down my spine when the driver closed the door with a solid, almost ominous, thunk.

I sat across from the "boss" my weight sinking into butter soft carmel colored leather that still had that new car smell. The woman across from me watched me with the bright dark eyes of a bird magnified only a little by the pair of rimless glasses she wore. She wasn't a beautiful woman, never had been. Even softened by age and wrinkles her features were too harsh for that. But she was striking, and impeccably neat. Not a wrinkle marred the dark rose suit she wore, and her jewelry was both conservative, and obviously expensive. Even if the limo hadn't clued me in, I would've known she had money. She wasn't being crass about it.  Wealth was just a fact of her existence, like the sun and the tides.

"Mr. Carter."

"Ma'am."

I heard the front door slam, and the car started up. A moment later we pulled smoothly away from the curb. We sat in silence for a few blocks.  I wondered if we were following Trey in the truck. The driver hadn't asked for a destination. I did hope I'd wind up at the work site eventually. I like my job, and Mr. Carmichael has no sense of humor about missing work.

"You're not much of a talker." She observed.

"I figured you'll tell me what you want when you're ready."

She gave me what might have been a smile, or not, just a bitter little twist of the lips.  "My son is Jimmy Carpenter Carmichael."

"Jimmy" Carmichael, as in Mr. Carmichael the owner of the company I worked for. So maybe I wouldn't get in trouble for being late. Assuming, of course, she told him we'd met.

"Jimmy is a good boy." She told me. I didn't mention that at 56 he was twice my age and hardly a 'boy'. He was her son. He'd always be a boy to her. "A little weaker than I'd like. Not like his father was, or even his brother Ron."

I'd worked with James Carmichael long enough to know he wasn't exactly a sissy boy. Which meant that Mr. Carmichael Sr. had probably been a world class asshole. Ron, had been the Carmichael's older son. If rumors were to be believed he'd be killed in a bar fight. He may have been tough, but obviously someone had been tougher. Then again, there always is.

"So I can't count on him to do what's necessary."

I didn't like where I thought this was heading, but I kept my mouth shut. I've found I can keep myself out of an awful lot of trouble just by staying quiet.

She paused, waiting for me to say something. When I didn't she gave me an irritated look over the top of her glasses.

"I need someone smart, tough, and ruthless. I had someone check discreetly with the men working for my son. Your name came up repeatedly. They also say you do odd jobs for people, for a price."

"That would depend on the job."

"And the price I assume."
Not necessarily. But I wasn't about to tell her that---yet. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

Saturday Evening Post

2011-12-17T16:00:00.000-08:00

Okay, it's Saturday, and I'm posting. Probably what I'll talk about today is something of a dichotomy.

CONFIDENCE IN THE ARTS.

Because, let's face it. It takes big shiny polished brass to be willing to keep going against everything that everyone will say to discourage you and in light of the actual nuts and bolts work of practicing, practicing, practicing without knowing whether or not you're actually going to succeed. But you believe in your dream and yourself enough to finish, to put your product your "baby" on the line, whether it is a painting, a song, or a piece of writing.

And (for a lot of people at least---including me) at the same time that you believe, and are proud and stubborn and KEEP polishing that brass there's this part of you that is afraid that it ISN'T brilliant, that maybe you AREN'T as good as you think you are and that maybe you should just give up.

SO, it HURTS people when for no good reason other than: (1) they seem to enjoy it; (2) the fact that web is anonymous and they CAN bully without facing the consequences; or maybe (3) they're jealous; people rip into your art with razors, being as cruel as they possibly can in their criticism. They seem to believe that "Well, if you can't take it, you shouldn't put your stuff out there."

And it doesn't stop if you get a level of success either. It just means that more people see it, so there's more of a chance that that small (really, small) percentage of cruel people will see it and cut loose.

A lot of people deal with it by avoiding reviews and forums, not allowing comments on their blog and the like. I can't say as I blame them. Frankly, most professional writers at least (can't speak for other artists) don't have enough time to spare to spend a lot of it hanging out doing those things anyway.

I'm a grown up. I know that what I create won't please all of the people all of the time. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to see the top of The New York Times' bestsellers list. But the fact is, that most writers never get there, and I want to be true to what I want to write and my characters.

But I have to admit that every time I see someone getting slashed on it makes me mad. And every time I get ready to put something out in the world (or even just in front of an important audience of one, like the agent or an editor) I have to put on my "armor," and pump myself up with the equivalent of a half-time pep talk.

There are very famous authors who finally gave up on publishing their works altogether. They didn't stop writing, they just stop publishing their work, choosing instead to let the manuscripts pile up in a safe, file cabinet, or desk drawer. I don't know that I'll ever go that far. I do want to share my stories and characters with people who appreciate them. But if the publishing industry decided tomorrow that I was no longer publishable, I would still keep writing. If the publishing industry disappeared as a whole tomorrow I'd still keep writing. It's what I do. It's who I am.

So I strap on the armor and send to the agent, the editor, wherever. And I come back to the keyboard at 4:00 or 4:30 in the morning when a part of me would much rather be asleep (shut up body, I've got things to do) and pound out the words, or post to the blog, or do the interview. Is it dedication? Maschochism? A little of both? I don't know. But it is my life and my art. And I try to ignore the people who look me straight in the eye and say "Well if YOU can get published . . ." (seriously, they've said it. LOTS of them.) and the folks who rip into my work, or the work of my friends.

Nobody expects you to like everything you read. But I have to go with Laurell K. Hamilton on this one. Vote with your feet, with your pocketbook. If you don't like what an author writes DON'T BUY THE BOOKS. But don't be petty, and cruel. That's just so . . . high school.

A DAY OFF! THINKING

2011-12-16T11:02:00.000-08:00

I took a day off. A whole day off of the day job to take care of all of the schtoof you can't do when you work the same hours that everything else is open. WOO HOO. Christmas shopping is done. All but 1 package ready to mail. Old prizes and replacements (the mail shredded my bookmark kind of thing) are going this afternoon. The car is getting inspected. The proposal and first section of the new individual book will be winging its way to the agent this afternoon.

BUSY, but good busy.

OKAY, I had a thought. Always a dangerous thing. IF I were to start a blog (1 day a week) from the point of view of any character we have written (or if you want a sneak peek, from any of the characters of the new book being sent to the agent this afternoon) or which will be written, who would it be?

OR would you prefer to have one blog a week here (which would be handy since I wouldn't have to set up a new account) with a character visiting each week? HMNNN??? Inquiring minds want to know.

Cie

VISITING DIGNITARY - DAVID BOOP

2011-12-14T04:00:00.000-08:00

EverythingYou Wanted to Know about Publishing (Since You Were Going to Ask Anyway.)

By DavidBoop

I was recently asked to sit on apanel for a local writer’s meet-up on the topic of “Building Suspense in YourMysteries” with two other colleagues of mine. After discussing our respective careers, wedecided to ask if there was anything in particular they wanted us to focuson. A shy hand raised up and asked, “Sojust how do you get published?” Nearly two hours later, we never addressed thetopic we’d shown up for. (It is also interesting to note, that when polled,only two out of the dozen or so people attending actually wrote mysteries.)

You all are hungry to be read. Youwouldn’t be reading a blog from an author on the topic of writing if youweren’t. Heck, you’re even reading the guest blog from a hack such as myself.That’s dedication to the craft if I’ve ever seen it. You’ve probably justcompleted a month of fitting in a couple thousand words a day in between kidspageants, prepping turkeys, making up guest rooms and subtly telling your S.O.what you want for Christmas, knowing full well he/she won’t get it in the rightcolor or size. Now you have something - a manuscript, a novella, a chunk ofyour soul - throbbing, desperate to make its mark on the world. You know itneeds editing, or completing, or revising, or… and many writers feel this way…deleting. I mean, after all, who is going to publish you… the retail manager,the domestic goddess, the retiree?

I’m here to tell you the truth.

Nobody will publish you ANDeverybody will publish you.

No, stop with the accolades. I canjust hear you out there saying, “Oh, thank you, St. Dave. That makes everythingclearer. I was so worried, but you’ve shown me the light!”

Seriously, before you light thetorches and make your way to Denver, let me explain. When I was asked, “How doyou get published?” I answered, “There are as many ways to get published asthere are stories waiting to be published.” I could have gone with the KevinCostner, “as many ways as there are stars in the sky,” but then I’d have to domy little tatanka dance, and really, no one wants to see that.

Every author I know has beenpublished in a different way than the next. Few actually go through therecommend steps as taught in colleges, on panels and during lectures. They madetheir own way to publishing, as you will yourself.

Some claim that the only road totrue success is to be published through a traditional press. You know, the oldguard, the men (and women) in the white towers who pay you an advance, edityour story, turn it into a book, get that book into bookstores, get it reviewedby well-respected critics, and place you on the New York Times Bestseller list.Those people aren’t wrong.

Along with that, however, you haveto take pennies for your work, loss of creative control, a token marketingeffort and sometimes being lost in the shadow of the authors already makingthem money. It’s a horrible, frustrating road that involves countless rejectionletters and spending money you don’t have to attend conventions, conferencesand networking opportunities. It involves putting yourself out there, makingthem read you, critique you, judge you. And for many of us, in the end, whenyou walk through that Barnes and Nobles and see your book next to one of youridols, worth every sacrifice. The number of authors who have succeeded this wayis about the same as those who didn’t. Your chances are even. This is mycurrent path and, as a brother in the trenches, I salute you!

In the opposite extreme, there arethose writers who have embarked on that quest and gave up, or were scared offfrom it by people like me who told them the truth about it. They have decidedto self-publish their work via print-on-demand (POD) publishers or to e-publish,or both. Many once, and currently successful authors will speak on this, andthey have more experience than I, but having working in the POD field, I willshare what I know.

First, if you do not have theresources to have your manuscript edited by a professional, experienced-in-the-publishing-fieldeditor, don’t go down this route. There is nothing worse than shelling outnearly $20 for a trade paperback book and find five typos in the first chapter.(And don’t get me started on grammar, pacing, POV and the like. The typos werebad enough!) Someone who understandsplots, the Hero’s Journey (even if you’re defying it,) and transformation ofcharacter. Nothing will turn a reader off to any and all future endeavorsyou’ll embark upon if you cannot tell a good story.

So why risk this? It’ll be nearlyimpossible to get it reviewed by legitimate sources. You won’t make Oprah’sbook list. You’ll be treated differently by many authors (justified or not.)

Well, after your initial investment,you make all the profit, which sometimes can be substantial. You’ll be incontrol of your destiny. You can make things happen with your book traditionalpublishers would never consider. I’ve seen SP authors win major competitions,get their works turned into movies, and sit on panels with Hugo nomineescarrying on intelligent conversations. I think some mediums work better forself-publishing than others, such as children’s books, non-fiction and poetry,but I’ve seen someone defy the rules in every genre.

Somewhere between traditional andself-publishing is the uncharted territory of small press. These golden shoresoffer a publisher for each and every genre known to man and woman. I know apublisher that focuses exclusively in gay pirate stories and does quite well atthem. And small press doesn’t mean small by any stretch of the imagination.Independent publishers have won Hugos and Nebulas, and turned series into videogames, comics and films. They do get books into stores, though usually not asmany, and only after a successful track record. Editors of small presses aremore approachable at conventions and the like. They are more willing to takechances on something that otherwise wouldn’t fit the norm. They are tech savvy,as hungry for success as you and have been known to cry when a book theybelieved in hasn’t taken off. They pay everything from pro rates to only sharedroyalties. They’ll make you part oftheir street team, showing you off all over the world.

The only disadvantage is… they’rebreeding like horny, little bunnies and not all of them have cleaned theafterbirth from their fur yet. You never know what you might get. I’ve heardhorror stories about big name Independents not paying on time, or notaccurately, or not at all. Who am I kidding? I’ve been in that horror story. I’mthe guy that Jason machetes while watching his sister make it with herboyfriend. And I’d do it all over again.I had a beautiful novel, which sold really well until I pulled it from thepublisher for not paying me on time, or accurately. It happens to the best ofus.

I deliberately didn’t touch onagents, as I’ve run out of space. Or sleeping with editors to get published(don’t do it. Unless they’re hot. Then forget the book and marry theeditor.) Or a myriad of other ways writershave become authors. George R. R. Martin suggested finding a patron of the artsto marry, so you can focus all your time on writing. So, as I leave you to golog into SugarMamma.com, I’ll pass along these last words…

If you want to get published, andyour writing is sound, you’ll get published. Not tomorrow. Probably not thenext day either. You’ll get published your way. And then you’ll know how to answer the question, “How do you getpublished?” next time you show up for a panel on suspense.

***********************

David Boop is a Denver-based single father, returningcollege student, full-time employee and published author. His first novel, thesci-fi noir, She Murdered Me with Science,came out in 08. He’s also had over a dozen short stories and novellas publishedin many genres. His most recent appears in TheGreen Hornet Casefiles. He travels all over the country speaking atconventions, libraries and schools on writing and publishing. Dave’s hobbiesinclude film, anime, Mayan history and The Blues. To find out more, visitwww.davidboop.com.

And now to the interview portion:

HI!

It's good to hear from you again. It's been a while. I understand you've beenvery busy. What have you been working on?

Thanks for having me aboard! Yes, it’s beenfar too long. Well, besides conventions, I’ve been working on the follow-up tomy first novel, She Murdered Me withScience. It’s going to be called, Murderedin a Mechanical World (and I’m a Mechanical Girl!) Once again, Noel R.Glass, forensics detective in 1955 must wrestle his demons and save the worldfrom destruction. I’ve also sold seven short stories and novellas between2010-11 (including my first media tie-in based on The Green Hornet T.V. series from the sixties.) In addition, Ichanged agents, and she has two outlines for novels, one fantasy, one aparanormal police procedural.

What releases do you have coming out in 2012? (ASIDE, would you like themlisted on the calendar I have on the website for readers to see what's comingfrom folks I know and those I've featured?)

The only thing I can say about 2012 is thatthere are a lot of irons in the fire, from novels, comics and films. Nothing Ican speak of yet, save to say I’ve been invited to another anthology based on adifferent sixties T.V. series, this one a bit sexier than the Hornet.

How many books have you written? Can you give us the titles?

The aforementioned novel is my onlycompleted. Because of the amount of research it takes to write a Noel Glassnovel, it takes me years to complete one. I do a lot of research to make surethe fifties I write about is as real as the fifties in our reality. Theoutlines for the other two novels didn’t take as long, as they didn’t requirethe same level of research.

If you had to be “stuck in an elevator” with one of your characters for severalhours, who would it be and what would you talk about?

Definitely not Wan Lee. He’s been known tostink up a place with his perchance for spicy food. Probably, the assassin DegnaSagese from “Justice is Not Taken By the Storm,” featured in Space Sirens. She’s unconventionally hot,intelligent and willing to take chances. That is, if I’m not on her hit list.

If you could change one of your characters, which one would it be and why?

Noel R. Glass’s transformation took alittle longer in the first book than I’d like, but that’s what the storydictated. The reason I wanted to write a second one was to show a whole Noel,at the top of his game. He’s a fully realized man now, which is why I have toscrew that up by the end of the second book.

Do you listen to music as you write? If so, which artists? What is yourplaylist?

I tend to do a lot of Blues when writingnoir, but usually, I don’t play music. I love music too much and invest in thesongs, pulling me away from my writer’s trance. It’s been harder to get inthese days, due to life demanding my attention, so when I get there, I need tofocus.

What hobbies do you use to relax? Do you have a day job? If so, doing what?

By the time I get home, or finish writing,I’m wiped, so I tend to zone out on TV. I recently took up watching hockey,after being a “football only” person for many years. I also DVR all the currentspec-fic series and try to catch up as I can. I recently left a job as amailroom supervisor and I’m going back into audio-visual work. It’s what myfirst and second degrees were based on and I decided to use them again. I’malso working on my third one, English BA, which I hope to have completed in twoyears. My son also goes to an online school, so Iwork with him a lot, which is almost like being a part-time teacher.

The business of writing is changing rapidly. Do you find the change scary?Invigorating? How (if at all) have you changed your career plans/path as aresult?
I hate that I’ve gotten so close to the golden ring, and may never see it.Hardback books are all but gone unless you have a Martin or King as your lastname. I may never have a dust cover book, and that makes me sad. However, thereare untapped possibilities for the new medium. We may see the return of hypertext-stylestories, or more illustrations and animations. On the agent front, the roles ofagents are changing from marketers to accountant-lawyers. We’ll see more ofthem fighting in the trenches for author rights, than making sales. I’ve hadfour agents over the years, and not one made a sale for me. Mind you, the firsttwo don’t count, as my writing was really shit back then. I’m just a goodsalesman.

What is one key bit of advice you would give to a prospective writer?

1. Join a writer’s group that has the sole purpose of makingsure everyone gets published.

2. Have someone reliable edit your work outside the group.

3. Go to conventions, attend panels, listen to those thathave gone through this already, and network.

All my success can be boiled down to that.

Visiting Dignitary Scheduled Today

2011-12-14T02:58:00.001-08:00

Okay, I can't remember what TIME I scheduled it to post. But it is coming!!!

I am thrilled things are going well. Postponed the tooth surgery for various reasons, it's coming in January. Hope I've got everything done I need to before it happens.

Love and happy holidays to all.

Cie

Sunday Morning Breakfast Serial

2011-12-11T07:46:00.000-08:00

WHO IN THE *H* IS BOONE CARTER? EPISODE 2

Trey and I clattered down the stairs to my battered old pick-up. We needed to hustle if we were going to make it to work on time. No surprise. It's like this every day. Every day I swear I won't wait for his sorry ass; and every day as I'm headed to the truck to leave without him he comes dashing down after me, swearing under his breath and threatening a whole lot of shit he has no intention of actually doing to me.

When we reached the front door, though, I stopped in my tracks suddenly enough that Trey rammed into me from behind.

"What the . . ." he complained.

"We have company."

He shoved past me to look out through the lace curtains that adorned the window built into the front door. His eyes went wide. "A limo."

"Yup."

"And they've blocked in the truck."

"Right again."

He gave me a long look. "You know somebody owns a limo?"

"No. You?"

"Nope."
"Who do you 'spose it is?"

"Only one way to find out." I pulled open the door and we strolled out onto the porch. Trey waited as I pulled the door closed and set the deadbolt. It was a waste of time really--what good is a deadbolt on a wooden door that is almost half window? But old Mrs. Cunningham gets pissy if we leave it unlocked, and she's the landlady.

Trey and I walked over to the limo together.

The car was a 2010 Rolls Royce Phantom, cream colored with long, beautiful lines. Nothing tacky about this number. Pure elegance. The driver was pretty elegant too--a leggy blonde with wide blue eyes, her short hair slicked back under the traditional driver's cap. Her gray driver's uniform was fairly effective at hiding her figure, but there's only so much camoflage can do when a girl's got a body like that.

"Which of you gentlemen is Boone Carter?" She asked.

I raised my hand. "That would be me."

Saturday Evening Post

2011-12-10T19:00:00.000-08:00

Greetings all. Time for the Saturday Evening Post.

First, Thanks again to Linnea.

Second. THE WINNERS ARE:

TRUBBLE - An autographed book by Linnea Sinclair
JACKIE B - A signed cover flat of BLOOD SONG

I have contacted Jackie for her address. I'm having trouble tracking down TRUBBLE (SOOOOOOO not my usual problem may I add), so if you can get hold of him/her have him/her contact me in the comments below with an e-mail address OR e-mail me at catadamsfans@gmail.com with a snail mail address to mail the prize to and "YOU'RE IN TRUBBLE" in the RE.

THANKS.

Now, on to the post.

One of the things that always surprises people when they embark on writing as a career is that it's HARD. No, seriously, people are shocked by this. It's not just the writing---putting the butt in the chair and manufacturing worlds, people, and action all with the power of words (which is, by the way, a trick in and of itself), but that there's so much other STUFF involved.

Marketing; blogging; calendaring deadlines; edits, copy edits, galleys; promo; appearances/signings; online presence (Twitter, FaceBook/MySpace, etc.); contests, mailing prizes; etc.

It's work. It's wonderful, happy, rewarding work, but it is WORK.

So don't be surprised if/when you decide to embark on this wonderful adventure, to find out that like most adventures there will be lots of times when things are crazy-making, exhausting and scary. After all, all the best adventures are.

And hey, count yourself lucky. At least you're not one of my heroines. Have you SEEN what I put them through?!!

Thanks Guys!

2011-12-09T03:31:00.001-08:00

Just a quick note to thank everybody who visited with the Visiting Dignitary. Linnea is VERY cool people and I thought it was great of her to agree to be the very first dignitary in the relaunch.

Prize winners will be drawn from a hat (really, I have a hat collection. I'll pull one out for the purpose) on Saturday. NOTE, they will not be mailed out for a week or so. Linnea is going to be unavailable for a few days and I am notoriously slow about sending things. BUT THEY WILL GO OUT!!!

Again, thanks guys.

Cie

Visiting Dignitary! Linnea Sinclair

2011-12-07T04:00:00.000-08:00

WELCOME LINNEA SINCLAIR

For our very first Visiting Dignitary of the new "season" I am pleased to bring you Linnea Sinclair. Linnea is an old friend and the author of some amazing stories that meld science fiction and romance in an intoxicating (and addicting) blend that is as unique as she is.

Now on with the interview:

It's good to hear from you again. It's been a while. I understand you've been very busy. What have you been working on?

A new science fiction romance adventure novel, working title MOON UNDER GLASS. I'm dealing with a unique universe (in the writing sense of the word) and a unique star system where humans are the newcomers and "low on the totem pole," as the saying goes. The book has a bit of an Indiana Jones flair to it as it deals with antiques and alien artifacts--as well as murder, theft, betrayal and, of course, love.

I understand that you have a party you throw pretty regularly at the Romantic Times convention. Could you tell me a little about it? Do you have any details about this year's event?

--The Intergalactic Bar & Grille Party is RT's ONLY science fiction themed party, and is going into its sixth year (at least I think that's correct) of out-of-this-world craziness and mayhem and lots (and LOTS) 0of fabulous freebies. I don't have the full schedule yet (not until RT gets it to me) but it's usually on Wednesday, early evening. The party centers around question-and-answer table games, and those who've watched a lot of Star Trek and Star Wars will definitely do well! But there are also questions about the book of my "crew," my co-host authors, which this year include Cie Adams (1/2 of Cat Adams), Catherine Asaro, Marcella Burnard, Stacey Kade, Isabo Kelly, Jade Lee (aka Kathy Lyons), Liddy Midnight, and Janet Miller (aka Cricket Starr). And, of course, me. Every party goer gets a goody bag stuffed with things that flash and blink and light up (very sci fi!). And we serve snacks and booze...and have a fabulously fun time!

Sounds like fun!

You have a fairly significant backlist? How many books have you written? Can you give us the titles?

I have eight books out with Bantam, including my Dock Five series, and one novella with Simon & Schuster/Pocket.

FINDER KEEPERS
GABRIEL'S GHOST (Dock Five #1)
AN ACCIDENTAL GODDESS
GAMES OF COMMAND
SHADES OF DARK (Dock Five #2)
THE DOWN HOME ZOMBIE BLUES (now is movie production in Hollywood as "The Down Home Alien Blues"-
HOPE'S FOLLY (Dock Five #3)
REBELS AND LOVERS (Dock Five #4)
"Courting Trouble" in SONGS OF LOVE & DEATH, George R R Martin and Gardner Dozois, Eds.

I also had a few books published by small presses about ten years ago, but they're out of print and I don't want to get readers frustrated if they try to find them.

If you had to be “stuck in an elevator” with one of your characters for several hours, who would it be and what would you talk about?

That's a tough question. I guess the character I'd want to be stuck with would be one who'd know how to FIX the elevator! But that would actually include most of them, since most of my characters either maintain their own starfreighters or have significant experience with starships and other things mechanical. My first inclination would be to say Philip Guthrie, because he's one of the older characters I've written and I just enjoy his practical yet snarky personality. But I'd hate to be stuck in the elevator with him and NOT with Rya Bennton as well, because she's his 'other half' and I know he'd be a lot happier if she was there. As for conversation, I'd want to know how the war was going, how the new Alliance was faring, and how his brother, Devin, was adjusting to all the events in REBELS AND LOVERS--especially his reunion with Kaidee, the one woman he couldn't forget yet was forbidden to love.

If you could change one of your characters, which one would it be and why?

I can't think of one I'd want to change. I'd like to revisit all of them and see their continuing adventures--and growth. But none I'd change.

Do you listen to music as you write? If so, which artists? What is your playlist?

Definitely, mostly trance and electronica providing there are no lyrics/words (or very few). I post my playlists in the beginning of most of my books. DJ Lithium (www.blacktigerrecordings.com) is one of my go-to favorites. I also like Juno Reactor, DJ Tiesto, Firestorm, and Crystal Method.

The business of writing is changing rapidly. Do you find the change scary? Invigorating? How (if at all) have you changed your career plans/path as a result?

I don't feel the business of writing is changing, but the business of publishing is, and mostly in "delivery methods." Digital media has become an accepted (though still not as widely accepted as many would like) format, which has been enhanced by the Nook and other e-readers and tablets. I don't think that's changed stories per se. Conflict is still conflict, world building is still world building. The changes to the structure of writing, where novels needed to open with more action and "closer" to the meat of the story, happened about ten to fifteen years ago as society became more television- and movie-oriented. But that's about when I started to write fiction seriously, so my methods are more akin to "hit the ground running" kinds of stories than the older, leisurely openings (and plot and character development) of stories that are considered classics.

I haven't changed anything I do at all in relation to digital media advances. The story still has to "work" and whether it's on a screen or a paper page makes no difference.

What is one key bit of advice you would give to a prospective writer:

Read Dwight V Swain's TECHNIQUES OF THE SELLING WRITER. It's hands-down the best instructional book on fiction writing, even though it was written over twenty years ago. If you do eighty percent of what Swain advises, you WILL sell.

Thank you so much for coming by. All right readers. As a thank you for your comments we have prizes available. Two lucky "commentors" will be drawn at random. One will receive a signed book from Linnea (shipable to addresses in the US only.) Another will receive a signed cover flat of "Blood Song"

Linnea, again, thanks for coming by!

Sunday Morning Breakfast Serial

2011-12-04T05:19:00.000-08:00

OKAY FOLKS, I'm trying out the SCHEDULE function again. This is the Sunday Morning Breakfast Serial. First Installment of "WHO IN THE HELL IS BOONE CARTER?"

**************

“This is Boone Carter. I havegood news and I have bad news.” I spoke into the cell phone. Itwas an old one, a little bigger than they make them now, so I didn't feel like I was talking into a credit card. It also had the advantage of being cheap. It was a pre-paid model, the kind they call a“burn phone” on tv. But I've had it longer than my most recentapartment. Then again, that's not saying all that much. I tend to be pretty mobile.

“Tell me.” The client sounded tense. Then again, from what I could tell Melodee Bigbee was always tense. Probablythe meth. But maybe just her nature. I didn't know. Didn't muchcare either.

“The good news is, I found your car. The bad news, the police are going to be asking you lots of questionand I'm not sure you're ever going to get the smell out.”

She started swearing and hung up on me. I wasn't surprised. I'd be willing to bet that a visit from the cops would be a life-changing experience for Melodee, and not in a good way. Particularly not when they were going to be asking her questions about the murder of her dealer/boyfriend-maybe-commonlaw-husband Dirk. Ah well, not my problem. She'd paid me to find the car. I found the car.

I closed the cell phone and slid it into the back pocket of my worn jeans.

"Let me guess," Trey said "she hung up on you."

"Yup."

Smart man.

The Saturday Evening Post

2011-12-03T19:30:00.000-08:00

The Saturday Evening Post is getting written Saturday morning because I'm going to have a completely packed schedule today and this evening. But it IS getting written, which is progress. And it gives me the opportunity to see if the whole "Schedule" thing where it releases on a timer actually WORKS. Which it should. But seriously, if it's possible for me to screw it up, I probably will.

I am actually very good with technology, and software. But I am in a hurry, and stressed, and that never helps the learning curve.

Perhaps I should do some Zen-like meditation. Ooohm, ooohm, woogita woogita woogita woogita, THUNK, oooohmmmm, ooohmmmm.

There much better. (For those of you who don't recognize the above, it is an imitation of an old washing machine I had in the basement of my house back in Denver. It was right under the air ducts, so every time I did laundry I had a relaxing Zen-like experience.) My son and I dubbed it the Zen washer, and we were completely heartbroken when it finally broke down permanently. No washer before or since has been so loved. (Although the one I have now comes close because I had to do without one for so long and I am NOT a big fan of the laundramat.)

ANYWAY, back to the point. (There was a point? Really? Where?) This is a test post.

So, TESTING, 1, 2, 3. TESTING 1,2,3.

2011-12-02T03:32:00.001-08:00

The first official posse e-mail is out and getting good response. The posse is growing by leaps and bounds, which is a wondrous thing. WORLD DOMINATION/ONE BOOK AT A TIME. (I am now picturing Pinky and the Brain, one of my favorite cartoons of all time).

The body is acting up a bit, no surprise, it does that when I'm nervous and who ISN'T nervous when they're getting ready for oral surgery. I mean, SERIOUSLY.

I can't stay long this morning, but know that I'm thinking of you all, and that progress is being made.

Cie

LOTS AND LOTS OF GOOD STUFF

2011-11-30T02:59:00.001-08:00

Okay, have been VERY busy on your behalf, and my behalf, which I guess makes it a bewhole. (As opposed to a . . . never mind. :))

I'm in a very good mood, but have been busier than I ever imagined possible. I'm:

1) getting my individual website ready for a big December launch, which entails
2) getting the release calendar pulled together, and linked to the personal website
3) I'm getting the posse gifts out to the posse and
4) pulling together a separate mailing list for the posse members so I can get them special alerts and presents and ask them to do stuff if they're willing.
5) I've got a manuscript in the final stages of the first pass (out now to my son for review) and
6) am trying to figure out who I want for my individual beta readers.
7) The next Celia book is at the editor and WILL need revisions.
8) I've re-launched the blog (here) and am
9) Launching the VISITING DIGNITARIES again. This involves
10) CONTACTING and scheduling said dignitaries. (Currently scheduled for every Wednesday starting next week, and I have scheduled ahead into March, so it's looking promising)
11) Doing questions for said dignitaries who want to be interviewed; and
12) Preparing to update the Craft Corner with the information I'm getting from said dignitaries.
13) doing business stuff with Cathy and
14) Putting together the December Newsletter
15) Having oral surgery
16) The day job
17) Getting ready for Christmas.

SO, if I seem a little frazzled, it's CAUSE I AM!

A very good day.

2011-11-25T14:49:00.001-08:00

Hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Mine rocked.

20+ pages today. WOOT!!! Solidly hit the halfway point and am rocking. There are more pages that can be salvaged from a previous draft, so I'm really hopeful about tomorrow's production too!

Website changes have been made. I plan to launch the new/revised individual site December 1. I'm going to do a e-mail out to the Posse members asking them to come by and to publicize it.
I've contacted various visiting dignitaries so that they will be available here on Wednesdays and have sent out the questions. The advice bits will go to the joint website so that will benefit also. I've got an idea for the Sunday Morning Breakfast Serial, and will get that ready to post as well.

All in all, the past few days have been exciting and productive. I love holidays. I can recover enough from the day job to actually do stuff for the writing without feeling completely stressed and worn out. The day job is good. But writing is my love.

SO WOOT WOOT WOOT!!

2011-11-21T17:54:00.001-08:00

The new version of Blogger WORKS! Woot.

I now have a plan.

Okay, I've gotten a couple of responses from other authors willing to visit. I think the dignitary visits or reviews will be on Wednesdays.

I will have a "Saturday Evening Post" which is just chatty, and a "Sunday Morning Breakfast Serial" which will be unedited fiction that I compose off the top of my head.

I have made edits in the beginning stages to the personal website at http://www.adams-jamesauthors.com . One of the big edits is letting go of the graphic novel page so that I could do the Author Information and Calendar. The graphic novel deal pretty much fell through anyway, and I really wanted to have a place to link to the "Craft Corner" author advice bit on the Cat Adams page, and I wanted to create and link to a release calendar. The idea is to gather into one spot all of the release dates for 2012 for author friends and favorites so that readers can pop over and find what's coming out when in one spot. Of course this requires me actually GATHERING THE INFORMATION. Which is something to be done another day. I'm POOPED. But happy.

Have a great evening folks.

How I spent my weekend.

2011-11-21T03:53:00.001-08:00

They updated Blogger. I don't think I like the look of it, but I'm not a big fan of change. HOWEVER, if it posts without hassle I will rethink this.

A correction to the previous post: adams-jamesauthors.com The hyphen is a big deal. So sorry I forgot it.

I spent the weekend going over final proofs for The Isis Collar and was quite happy with the result. It will go to the publisher today. Also finished the posse gifts I was making and have gathered together addresses to send them.

Ah, the posse. For those who don't know and are interested. I have a small (but fierce) group of followers who are my posse. They get special prizes and offers, news, and whatever. I am the Not-So-Evil-Overlord bent on world domination one book at a time. If you are interested, e-mail catadamsfans@gmail.net with your name, e-mail and snail mail addresses.

And now off to get ready for the day job.

Have a great day.

Cie

Insanity Reigns

2011-11-19T08:38:00.000-08:00

I am back. Where was I? In the throes of the deadline cave getting The Eldritch Conspiracy finished and to Cathy (and from thence to our magnificent editor Melissa Singer at Tor). I am behind on ABSOLUTELY FRICKING EVERYTHING and, in the throes of the stress of such managed to shatter two of my teeth (I grind, I clench, all completely unconscious and VERY VERY bad for teeth.) I managed to drag my butt to the dentist (phobic much?) and am referred to the oral surgeon (yup DEFINITELY screwed the teeth up massively).

Also, in one of those weirdnesses that come with changes of tech, for some reason I can write this blog on my new fancy-schmancy-love-it-to-pieces-but-what-the-HELL computer, but it WILL NOT POST. I have to go somewhere else to post it. It merely saves it as a draft. Very weird. Very annoying.

Today I have managed to edit the website for my individual projects. I have to fix the washing machine (loose bolt, but of course I don't have the right socket size. UGH), and I have to go over the final proofs of The Isis Collar to see if all of the oopses that came from a software glitch have, in fact, been cured.

I am working hard on the next project. I am excited. But I also have all of that backlog of day-to-day stuff to get through. And I need to get back on the eating right and exercising bandwagon, although I'm not sure if I should exercise until the teeth are fixed. Infections and exercise do not necessarily mix if I remember right. Then again, it might just be another excuse. LOL.

The newsletter is going out. I hope you will all get it and enjoy it. I also have to finish the bookmarks for the posse, whom I have not forgotten. So, all in all, it will be a very busy time for the next few. But I am going to try to post at least three times a week. Just like the exercise. It may bore you to pieces since my life just isn't that exciting, but HEY you don't HAVE to read it. (SOB, I'm so ALONE. Nobody loves me and my feet are cold. But FINE, FINE. GO.) (Is that melodramatic enough to make you stay?)

Oh, and maybe I'll go back to the serial. If you want me to. Opinions please.

If you want to check out the individual projects website, it's at: www.adamsjamesauthors.com

Friday Morning

2011-09-23T05:54:00.001-07:00

Have you ever looked at this looming, huge, stack of "to do" and wondered if it was even remotely possible to get it "ta done?" I'm so there. I've got work stuff to do, writing stuff to do, house stuff to do, things to do for the animals, tax stuff to do, and on, and on, and on.

I've decided to close my eyes, take a deep breath, and do one thing at a time.

Howdy Y'all

2011-09-19T15:41:00.001-07:00

Hello. I'm trying to stay awake this evening. Tough day. Still, good things are about to happen. I believe that. In the meantime, I'm having a little caffeine to perk me up so that I can get the daily dose of writing done.

Not going to be able to go to FenCon with Cathy. Life and the deadline intervened. :( Mega, mega :( But there you go.

Anyway, if I don't get moving. I won't get things done before I keel over.

Take care y'all. I'll try to come up with a better post next time.

Cie

Thursday Morning

2011-09-15T05:54:00.000-07:00

For those of you who wonder why the Tuesday post went up on Thursday, for some reason my new computer (Windows 7) will write the blog, but blocks posting it, so I have to go to another computer, log online, and go to Blogger and post. Not impossible, but nuisancy. So sometimes there is a delay in posting.

Sorry.

Tuesday Morning

2011-09-13T04:39:00.000-07:00

I started to say "Why are there no songs about Tuesday?" But then I remembered "Tuesday's Dead." So never mind. But there really are LOTS more songs about Monday, and Friday, and even Saturday night.

But it is Tuesday, and I am actually feeling fairly perky. Surprising since I was up early this morning. BUT the specialist was right. The new thyroid meds are working. I no longer feel like I've been hit by a truck most of the time. I'm even mostly clear-headed most of the time.

WHOOO HOOO!

On the writing front, the book is actually going pretty well. I'm a bit frustrated but it's technical issues. The new computer needs to be upgraded if it's going to run the old software I like. (I hate most of the new word processing software. It (a) keeps trying to force me to format things the way I don't want to; (b) doesn't have as good of a vocabulary as I do (which is just freaking SAD. Excuse me, you've expanded the memory and you can't even put in an unabridged dictionary?) so that it keeps saying things are misspelled just because it doesn't know the word (oh and the suggestions for replace? Lovely. Just lovely. Hit the wrong button and an article about the Sazi will be about the Suzi. No, not just any Suzi "THE Suzi." Yes, I know it won't be in their dictionary. But I can add it. Or I SHOULD be able to anyway.); and doesn't let me turn off their controls. So I want to use old software. Which means I need to upgrade the new computer. Or use the old one. But wait. I can't. It CRASHED. Totally.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Not when I'm on deadline!

Except, reasonably, I am always on one deadline or another. Such is the life of a working author. And I wouldn't trade it. Because there's a lot of folks right now who aren't working, let alone working as authors, living their dreams, etc.

Ah well.

Bought myself a used laptop cheaply. I had given the previous one to my son, who is also the VP of my company and whose computer had "issues." So I now have a laptop to take on trips again. Yay. There are a lot of folks who would ask why used. See the previous paragraphs. I wanted it new enough to be light, have plenty of memory and speed, and old enough to run my old WP programs. I am a very low-end user for most tech. I use the internet. I e-mail. And I write books. Occasionally I'll splurge and run a DVD movie or TV show on the player.

That's it.

So used and cheap worked well for me.

Okay, have to go. I'm in the process of watering the trees. We are in a major drought down here. I refuse to water grass in a drought. The water is needed for animals and people. BUT trees take 100s of years to grow. So when it's really bad I do take time to water the trees. And frankly, they need it. They are so stressed that we're probably going to lose half of them.

COME ON RAIN.

Okay, gotta go. Bye. See you soon. Be happy and well.

Cie

Sometimes life just gets away from you.

2011-08-13T11:29:00.000-07:00

Hi!

Well, it's been an . . . interesting day.

Had some wonderful telephone conversations, but haven't gotten much done.

First, the laundry detergent I bought yesterday evidently had a leak. It drained out over the counter, onto the floor, and pretty much everywhere. I had to clean that up.

Okay, I'm dealing. I go out to feed the outdoor kitties (it's still dark) and encounter a family of skunks. Oh crap. Sprayage ensues (but misses me as I ducked quickly back behind the door. SO I now decide that maybe I should screen in the front porch for the kitties as skunks are not only nasty, they can easily be rabid. And while, yes, the outdoor kitties got their shots, STILL. So I measured and waited until later to call the lumber yard with measurements.

Then I come inside and start doing dishes and such, and find out that. OH CRAP. One whole side of one of the indoor cats is plastered to his skin and crunchy where he (you guessed it) laid in the spilled soap.

Now, is soap going to kill him? Probably not. But it sure as h*** isn't going to be good for him, and there's too much of it for him to clean himself with his tongue anyway. SO, I get to capture, and bathe a formerly feral feline who is the most skittish of my kitties.

OH freakin' JOY.

It was, shall we say, an ADVENTURE.

Then, of course, I had to clean up the destruction in what used to be my bathroom, put neosporin on various punctures, and try to calm and sooth an extremely distraught cat.

I go to the lumberyard to pick up the supplies and -- the boards I had pre-cut are the wrong length. CRAP. Yes, I can make it work. But I will have to really work at it rather than just slapping it up. Which means it isn't happening today. It's just NOT.

It is now 1:37. I am completely and totally exhausted. And I have accomplished NOTHING.

Sigh.

Bookmarks, distribution, conferences, medical crap and so forth

2011-08-11T17:24:00.000-07:00

I am still sewing bookmarks. Seriously. There was a LOT of response from Posse members, former posse members, and I wanna be in the posse members. This is a wondrous occurrence. But dammit I promised to make the gifts with my own two hands and my own two hands are somewhat busy um, well, writing the next book. SO, the book is being written, AND the bookmarks are being manufactured when I am too braindead to write the book, AND the day job is still getting done. Somehow. I'm not quite sure how I'm juggling it all, but by golly I actually AM.

The mass market version of Blood Song is hitting the market en masse. Seriously, we've got some great distribution going on. I'm thinking in the newsletter I should do a contest with "e-mail us where you found the book" or some such. Except that would entail prizes. Which would have to be made. So perhaps it is not such a wise idea after all. But I am WILDLY happy about the distribution.

Cathy and I are getting ready to attend a couple of conferences. FenCon is comming up in Dallas in September and we will be there. I will be at RT next spring and am already in the throes of planning. We're going to do signings in October I believe. And there will be other marvellous events. You should check the newsletter for details. Assuming, of course you GET the newsletter. (And if not WHY not?)

I am going for some medical testing Monday and Tuesday. It should be minor and will hopefully take care of the annoyance that has been, well, ANNOYING me. I hope.

And lastly, pray for RAIN. We need it so desperately! I mean, seriously. There are towns in Texas that are completely OUT of water. Others are actually considering recycling waste water. (Um, ewwww.) So, put the word out. Light the bat signal. Use whatever influence you may have.

And have a wonderful evening.

Posse Bookmarks, Newsletter, And Stuff

2011-08-02T16:44:00.000-07:00

I took today off at the day job.

I was originally scheduled for some medical testing that got re-scheduled. But I wasn't up to snuff physically (nothing serious, don't worry), so I stayed home and rested up. Did things like laundry. Started on the posse presents. They are going to be red ribbon bookmarks with a cat button weight at one end. The cat button is a black cat very similar to Nitsche from Emily the Strange. I, of course, believe it is a good rendition of "Inkspot the Infamous" my beloved many-toed feline. Each one is hand-sewn by yours truly, and therefore possesses certain imperfections that (you will just have to put up with) make it truly unique.

I also wrote a bit. Planned a bit. And basically tried to take care of myself.

movies, sewing, writing, Jim Butcher.

2011-07-30T18:53:00.000-07:00

Hi Guys!

Okay, I've been keeping really busy. Work at the day job has been INSANE. I've been trying to relax by doing things like decorating and sewing. It's working. I have nice new curtains sewn in 3 rooms. I have re-painted the kitchen and part of the living room. And I'm generally feeling pretty good on the whole.

Did something stupid. Felt bad about it for a while. But the fact is, it was an accident, and everybody makes mistakes. Can't undo it. Just have to learn and move on. But sometimes that's harder than others.

Went to see Harry Potter today. Very good. They did a nice job on it. This time the 3d glasses didn't give me a huge headache which is nice. I almost just gave in and went to the 2d version, but the times were later and I wanted to get home in time to feed the critters. I want to get to bed early so I can get an early start on writing in the morning.

Writing is going well, but with work being insane and some other things going on, it's not going as fast as I'd like. But there you go. I'll keep plugging at it.

Read the newest Dresden novel by Jim Butcher. LOVE LOVE LOVE his work. Dresden more than Alera, but that's just me.

ANYWAY, it's a great addition, moves things forward. But be warned, it's more thoughtful, angsty and has a bit less "bounce" than some of the earlier books. Which makes perfect sense since Harry's had a lot of serious emotional fallout from Changes. Including, ahem, DYING. I liked it quite a lot, and have been going over the details (first read on his usually I'm racing through to see OHMIGODWHATHAPPENS NEXT?! and I have to go back for the details.) Anyway, I definitely recommend it.

Unless health crap comes up that I'm not in control of (I'm having some testing done, probably minor, so don't worry), I will be at FenCon in September. Hope to see you there.

Oh, and I've started making the bookmarks for the Posse. Which GREW HUGELY at the last "call to arms" in the newsletter, so it's taking a bit more time. Please be patient.

Best always.

Cie

Sewed this Weekend

2011-07-11T05:50:00.000-07:00

Did some sewing this weekend. Enjoyed it thoroughly. I love making things. Sewing and knitting are some of the things I miss when I get "too busy" and don't take time for myself. I now have lovely curtains in the kitchen and the office. As an added bonus, I found the keys to the day job that have been missing for a couple of weeks . (From right about the time I bought the fabric for the curtains coincidentally enough. Can you guess where they were?)

Alas, it had been long enough since I'd sewn that the machine needs a new belt. Bits of rubber started flying across the room when I got it up to speed. Um, ooops.

On another blog I found something I can actually DO for the prizes for the posse. Now I will simply have to DO it.

Gotta go.

Here's to Mistakes of the Past

2011-06-29T17:49:00.000-07:00

Here's to the mistakes of the past.

First -- they're PAST. Over, finito. Thank HEAVENS!

Second -- they taught us the lessons we needed to become the people we are today. If you even like who you are a little bit, it's the mistakes that probably taught you the most. "The burned hand teaches best."

I was recently was contacted by my very first roommate, from back in the time when I was very young, very MUCH.

I'm sorry for the people who got hurt. But I learned some lessons that I needed, and learned things about myself I wouldn't have found out any other way.

Would I do things differently now? Probably. I have a few regrets. But if I hadn't made the mistakes I did, I might not be who and where I am. (In life not location.) I might not have written books. Might not have made the bestseller's list. Might even not have had my son, these pets, or any of the other things I treasure.

Yes, I would have different things. Would I love them more? I don't think so. Less? Maybe/maybe not. But I will never know. I am who and what I am. And if I've lost some of my muchness, (as had Alice), I have gained quite a lot more than the pounds around my middle. Experience, humor, endurance.

So again, here's to the mistakes of the past.
********************************************
I went and got the lyrics for an appropriate accompanying song from http://www.metrolyrics.com/those-were-the-days-lyrics-mary-hopkins.html
********************************************

Those Were the Days* Mary Hopkins

Once upon a time there was a tavern
Where we used to raise a glass or two
Remember how we laughed away the hours
And dreamed of all the great things we would do

Those were the days my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way.
La la la la...
Those were the days, oh yes those were the days

Then the busy years went rushing by us
We lost our starry notions on the way
If by chance I'd see you in the tavern
We'd smile at one another and we'd say

Those were the days my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way.
La la la la...
Those were the days, oh yes those were the days

Just tonight I stood before the tavern
Nothing seemed the way it used to be

In the glass I saw a strange reflection
Was that lonely woman really me

Those were the days my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way.
La la la la...
Those were the days, oh yes those were the days

Through the door there came familiar laughter
I saw your face and heard you call my name
Oh my friend we're older but no wiser
For in our hearts the dreams are still the same

Those were the days my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way.
La la la la...
Those were the days, oh yes those were the days

Feeling Pretty Good Today

2011-06-27T10:12:00.000-07:00

Feeling pretty good today.

Can't think of too much to say. Life is plugging along pretty normally. Lots of writing going on, lots of other things going on.

We did a survey about whether folks wanted a new Sazi. They do. So that's probably going to happen eventually. Right now, however, I am in the throes of finishing the first book in a new world, then rushing into the next Celia book.

If I don't write before then, everybody have a happy holiday.

Cie

Migraines sucketh

2011-06-25T13:18:00.000-07:00

Migraines sucketh. Yes, the pretty flashy lights and ribbons of bright colors are very pretty. Distracting, make it hard to see, and precursors of doom, but VERY PRETTY.

When I was young I got migraines once a month, punctual as clockwork.
Then for years I got them once in a very great while -- maybe two a year.
Now I'm getting them every three months or so. But when I get them they're not going away in 12 hours like they used to. I can usually head off the pain with meds, but the visual stuff and the mental weirdness don't succomb as easily. For a couple of days I have sort of a "shadow" of the migraine where things are just a little . . . odd and fragile. Light's too bright. Sounds are loud. And it's really hard to focus.

I'm HOPING that this is another thing linked to hormones and now that they're settling in to their new pattern the migraines will go back to being a rarity.

Because MIGRAINES SUCKETH.

Writing, Allergies, RAIN FINALLY, and anything else I can think of.

2011-06-22T18:46:00.000-07:00

Book is progressing. If I don't stay too long writing this I may be able to get a few pages done tonight. I actually know where I want it to go, and it's seeming to come together. But it's going slower than I'd like---mainly because I need to get to the next project but can't get this one out of my head.

I have allergies. All kinds really, but mostly to chemicals. It can trigger asthma (irritant induced asthma is what they call it) or contact dermatitis, or whatever. Basically the contact dermatitis (which may not be spelled correctly) in my case means that my skin breaks out into nasty blisters that crack and bleed and then peel (the blistering is quick. The breaking, cracking, bleeding and peeling can take long, miserable days). The wrong toilet paper can give me days of "adult diaper rash." Thus, I am somewhat fanatical about staying loyally with the products that actually work for me. New and Improved are words I dread.

The skin stuff I have used on my face for years is no longer being made. I have bought up (and had given to me as gifts) all of the supply we can find on E-Bay. It is now, gone.

ARGH!!!

So I bought some new stuff to try out. It has not made the inside of my elbows break out overnight. It has not made the other delicate skin I've tried it on break out. Tonight we will try it on a small patch of my face and hope that I don't react to it.

One interesting thing that I wasn't expecting. When I put it on my test patches last night it glittered. Seriously. Gold glitter effect. Pretty, but somewhat startling to say the least. I felt like Edward Cullen, or actually one of his female relatives (but I don't remember their names right now---ESME maybe?). I think I'll only be using this at night even if it doesn't make me break out. I'm not sure what the good conservative folks here would think of a woman wandering around town SPARKLING. On the other hand, it might be fun to find out. (wicked grin).

WE GOT RAIN LAST NIGHT!!!!! An inch even. WOOOOO HOOOOOO!!!! WOOT WOOT WOOT! We need more. Quite a lot more. But WE GOT RAIN.

Okay, off to write. Wish me good luck.

Cie

Stuff and Nonsense/Status

2011-06-19T07:37:00.000-07:00

Okay, the edits are back to the publisher, the book is in process. YAHOO!!

The book I am working on hit a snag for a bit. I went back, took out a few pages to see if that's where I "went off track" and voila, we're moving again. Quickly even. I really need to get this first draft finished and out of my head so that I can move on to Celia's next Excellent Adventure.

The health plan is working. Slow and steady, which is just fine. My goal is to see where I stand in a year. I've improved my eating habits (still allowed a bit of junk food, or I'd give up). I'm exercising daily, both aerobic and calisthenic (and have added a bit of weights now that I'm able to do a decent number of repetitions).

The good news is --
1. I'm starting to see muscle tone.
2. My balance has improved (a couple of the exercises are specifically for that.)
3. My flexibility is improving. (This has always been bad, even from childhood, so this is kind of cool).
4. I'm not as "jiggly." So I think I'm getting smaller. (Also, my clothes are fitting better. Or else they're too big [i.e., my blouses]. The latter of which is annoying[as addressed in the previous blog]. Also, I don't want to have to shop. ).

No, I have not weighed or measured. I know myself. If I saw those numbers, I'd get so discouraged I wouldn't do what I need to do. And the goal isn't really about the numbers. (Okay, yeah, I want to be in a particular size, but that's not the goal.) The actual goal is to get well. Because, when I had the chest stuff (probably bronchitis but we didn't say for sure) last time, even when I was over it, I had asthma problems and generally wasn't breathing well. No stamina. No energy. Complete lack of oxygen.

VERY SCARY.

I've had bronchitis more times than I can count. I've had pneumonia several (really seriously SEVERAL) times. The last time they did chest x-rays they commented on the scarring.

So I was looking at myself and saying. Do you want to get well, or sometime soon do you want to be one of those people dragging around an oxygen container?

Let's hear it for diet and exercise!!! I am SOOOOOOO committed to getting well.

AND IT IS WORKING!!

AND I FEEL GOOD!

Now the bad news.

Now that I've lost weight in my face and neck I can see my thyroid. Clear as a bell. Full outline.
NOT GOOD. Where everyone else has a dip, I have a bulge. NOT GOOD. I am going to be making an appointment with the doctor.

I'm a little scared about this. But I've just got to pull on my big girl panties and take care of it.

So I will.

Scheduling

2011-06-11T13:22:00.000-07:00

Yes, this is not an exciting post subject. I mean, really, who cares?

Well, I do. Because one of the tried and true facts of life for a multi-published person is DEADLINES.

And no, they're not just suggestions. When the publisher says they want it then, they really do. And they've scheduled things like editing and cover art and publicity and publishing schedules around it.

Yes, if something drastic happens they'll cut you slack. And there is (sometimes) a little wiggle room worked in. But it's only a LITTLE wiggle room, if any. And you don't want to push that envelope. Besides, they paid you to deliver, so you need to . . . well, deliver.

So while Cathy is plugging away on edits I am faced with a dilemma.

The first book of the new book is 3/4 done. It's going well. I've actually caught some kind of rhythm, know where it's going, and it's heating up to a climax.

But the next Celia book needs to be written. It's actually scheduled.

ARGH!

So, after angst, and hemming, and hawing, and weighing my options (which, by the way, are NOT losing weight in THEIR bust thank you very much) I am giving myself until either the 15th or next weekend to wrap up the current book and start on Celia.

I want to get it finished. I really do. Because if I don't the book is liable to "turn to ashes" in my head (to quote a favorite author's phrase.)

And then there's the newsletter. And picking the winner for the prizes and MAKING the prizes for the posse members, and doing paperwork and cleaning the freaking house and doing the laundry and taking care of the animals and and and and . . . . CRAP.

Okay, enough whining. And enough stalling. Wish me good luck. I am going to check and see if the laundry is dry, then I am BACK TO WRITING.

Cie

Annoyance of the day.

2011-06-09T19:29:00.001-07:00

Losing weight makes no sense.

When I gain weight. I gain in my belly, or my ass first.

When I lose weight, I lose in my bust and my neck first.

Considering how my weight fluctuates, it is a wonder that I do not have a negative bust measurement.

I'm exercising, and concentrating on getting fit. I am paying particular attention to my abdomen. But my blouses are what is getting loose.

THIS IS NOT FAIR!!!

LOL

It's FRIDAY!!!. .

2011-06-03T05:37:00.001-07:00

WOOT WOOT WOOT.

Why is it that sometimes short weeks seem so much longer than regular length weeks? Seriously, it makes no sense. But true nonetheless.

I've been being very good and exercising, and walking the dog when it's still cool (I hate 100+ temperatures when I'm trying to be active). I've been writing some. Not as much as I'd like, but some. The book took a slight left turn, and I'll have to fix something, but that's not unusual.

ANYWAY, have a wonderful day, weekend, and life.

Cie

DO YOU WANT MORE SAZI?

2011-05-21T09:42:00.000-07:00

Do you want more Sazi stories? We want to know. SO, we've put up a survey. Here:

www.surveymonkey.com/s/PKDPB93

Trying to post this isn't working well. Darn it!

THE BOOK IS IN

2011-04-26T05:35:00.001-07:00

Okay, the edits are in. My mind is still reeling. I can think of three things already that I'll want to do in the next edit pass. (Oh yeah, logically she WOULD call her attorney, duh.) But for good or for ill, it's gone. I'm exhausted.

And now it is time for cleanup.

Cleanup?

Well, when one is in full-bore book mode, real life vanishes. POOF. It's MAGIC. (Actually, it's more along the lines of a disaster movie, but there you go.) I have to go through and shovel out the house, (cleaning is too mild a word for it) and the car. Do laundry. (You know you're in trouble when you sit at your desk, and realize that you simply do not have time to do laundry, so you buy new socks and underwear [and something pre-cooked for dinner] instead 'cause it's faster.) Sort through all the paperwork that has come in and needs to be dealt with, send out TONS of things that everybody needed days/weeks ago or won in contests embarrassingly long times ago because you haven't come up for air. (And while you're at it, you'd better shop for all those Mother's Day, Father's Day, Birthdays and etc., because you just KNOW they'll roll around when you're on the next deadline.)

This all HAS to happen. But before you can do it (assuming you're over 21 and can no longer abuse your body the way you used to) your body screams "I QUIT! SCREW YOU BUDDY! THE MIND THINKS IT IS IN CHARGE? HAH! I'LL SHOW YOU WHO's REALLY IN CHARGE." And you sleep. And sleep. And sleep. If you are VERY lucky you haven't worn yourself down to the point of catching some sort of crud.

I am not ill! WOOO HOOOO!!! Serious happy dance. But I am POOPED. I took the holiday weekend to rest, but I'm still exhausted. I do think the new vitamins helped to stave off the usual post-book-crisis-illness and will thus continue taking them. I am looking at re-starting the exercise program (which inevitably flew out the window during the crunch).

And I am, already, working on the next book.

In the course of these edits I wound up having to pull out the old computer and hook it up.

The new computer has the new Word. You know, the pretty one, with the fancy, schmancy stuff at the top that you have to scroll through with big bright pictures. It does EVERYTHING for you. You want to outline? It will outline. But not the way YOU want it. Nope. It has a standard format and heaven forfend you want to do something else.

I am a professional legal secretary. I know what I'm doing. I know what I want. I do not WANT/NEED/LIKE having the freaking computer program tell me how I'm going to do something. I was wasting HOURS wrestling the freaking program rather than getting through the edits.

Screw that.

So I hauled out the old computer with it's OLLLLLLLLLLD professional version of Word that lets ME set up all of the formatting the way I (and, incidentally, the editor) want it and AMAZINGLY ENOUGH I was able to work at least 5 times as fast.

So now I've got the two computers set up side by side. The old one is for writing. The new one for researching, internet stuff, watching Hulu, e-mails.

Eventually I will probably see if I can make the new system play nice with the old program. (I'm told there's a way to do it, but it requires the inevitable software upgrade). Windows 7 in the version that came on my system does not. The new system is beautiful and FAST. BUT, I'm a WRITER, what I need is the software that works best for me in creating. If it slows me down, drags me back to this reality kicking and swearing, it's counterproductive. Unfortunately, I replaced the old machine for a reason. It was dying. SO, that software upgrade will be coming soon. But not this week. And I am writing this week. So I'll back up often and hope/pray for the best.

In the meantime, I have to get in touch with everybody. Maybe I'll do a grand blog re-launch and get back into doing the fancy and fun things I used to. Maybe I'll actually re-visit Facebook and Twitter (I think MySpace may have gone the way of the dodo, but I don't know for sure. I'll check.)

ANYWAY, I doubt there's still anybody visiting here. But if there is, HI! This is what's been going on and why I've not been available. My apologies. I'd tell you I'll do better, but honestly, the next time a deadline hits I'll probably do the same thing.

Sigh.

Guten Morgen

2011-03-19T06:10:00.000-07:00

Guten Morgen to all!

I am in a wonderful mood.

On Thursday I closed on my house. I am officially, once again, a homeowner. YAY! And while I would very much wish that the house could simply be located in Denver, I'm still has happy as I can be. I have been decorating and settling in again, and it is amazing how much difference that makes.

Also, I've been (somewhat tentatively) writing again. I had an idea for a romantic comedy. It's fluffy, but a lot of fun, and just the thing to get me back into practice.

Demon Song is out. It is the third book in the Blood Singer series. It's a bit hard to find, so you may have to order it. But PLEASE do. I truly think you'll enjoy it.

Also, a friend just sent me the link to the Irish Rovers singing the Scottish Kilt song. It's on You-Tube and it's WONDERFUL.

Best.

Cie

Writing Again

2011-02-23T04:40:00.000-08:00

Okay, I'm turning in the loan documents today. James is recovering well (he was in the hospital for 12 days, nearly died, but is rebounding with the resilience of youth). Work is insane, but it always is. I'm trying to get back into writing, so I was playing with something this morning. For want of anywhere else I want to put it at the moment, it is going here.

Enjoy.

********
I was up on a ladder trying to fix the light above the pool table when Arnie walked in. It was enough of a shock that I nearly fell---would've fallen if I hadn't made a wild grab and clung to the chain suspending the stained glass shade from the ceiling.

"Easy Jenny. You don't need any medical bills." His voice was like grinding gravel. Huge hands steadied me at the waist until I regained my footing.

"What in the hell . . ." I looked down at the man standing next to the ladder. Not much down, mind you. Arnie is a former linebacker for the Cleveland Browns. He's six-eight and built square. All of it's muscle. He may be graying, adn enarly bald, but he's still damned imposing. And he still has to buy his clothes from the specialty shops.

"Corrine sent me. She wanted you to hear the news from a friendly." His expression was sober. "You'd better sit down."

I took him at his word. Arnie's been around the block more than a few times. If he said I needed to sit. I did. I climbed down, seating myself at the nearest table for two. He sat across from me, his massive form dwarfing the chair. He was obviously acutely uncomfortable, and not from the seat.

"What's up?" I forced the words out. My mouth was dry, my pulse pounding. I hadn't heard a word from anyone at Layton, Walker, Simpson and Burns since I'd gotten fired . . . excuse me, resigned (with extreme prejudice) and been blackballed in the local legal community. Sending Arnie here could get them both fired. It wasn't something Corrine would do lightly.

Arnie squirmed, causing the chair to creak in protest. "The old man decided to add a couple of new associates, so we were moving boxes from the storage room up to the attic. Paul, the new intern, tripped and fell into the drywall. It broke." He paused, not for drama, but to figure out how to best phrase what he wanted to say. "There was a fake wall. Behind it there was what was left of a body wrapped in heavy plastic sheeting."

I felt the blood drain from my face. The world swam. If I hadn't been sitting, I'd have fallen. As it was, I tucked my head between my knees and tried to breathe deeply. I didn't want to hear what he was going to say next. I was afraid I already knew.

"It was Derek."

And Life Takes a Sharp Left Turn

2011-01-23T07:20:00.000-08:00

Ah life. Never a dull moment. (At least not in mine.)

Two days after I began really settling back in to the house (set up the stereo, re-hung all the drapes and most of the pictures on the wall, repaint the trim, etc.) The landlord stops by. I can either buy back the house or move, because they're needing to sell it.

Well, hell.

This left me with a few options.

But after much thought, prayer, and talking with various folks whose opinions matter to me, I decided. I'll buy it back.

The move to Colorado had stalled anyway. I won't find anything here I like better. There are almost no rentals in the area, I have a history with the bank and can probably get another loan on the property, etc.

I feel pretty good about it.

As to the one-chin project. I fell off the wagon for a few days due to stress and injuries. But I'm back on track. Still at 1.25 chins, but I'm back in the tighter jeans and my bras are much looser (sigh, I always lose in my bust first and most. And it's the LAST place I gain.)

****

General stuff. Had the handyman come out yesterday to help with all of the heavy lifting & stuff I just can't do myself. (Things like hauling away the dead washer, moving the large oak desk from the garage to the office and the dresser from the office to the garage, etc.

He was injured, his truck was giving him trouble, and I really felt bad that he was having to do it. Apparently most of his crew don't work on the weekends. Unfortunately, I have a day job. The only time I can be around and have people do things is on the weekends. Sigh.

Almost everything in this town is scheduled for the unemployed. Seriously. Businesses open after 8:00, close from 12-1, and close before or at 5:00. (Exceptions being fast food, WalMart and the gas stations, grocery and convenience stores.) So, if you want to pay your cable bill in person (say the bill didn't arrive, which happens, because the mail has to go through like four different stops before it comes to Brady), you have to take time off work. The bank opens at 9:00 and closes at 3:00 or 3:30 (fortunately the drive-thru is open until 5:30, so if I really HUSTLE and don't have to stay and do any overtime I can actually go there. BUT everyone else is doing the same thing, so don't be too sure. The post office opens at either 9:00 or 10:00 and closes at 4:30 ON THE DOT. Again, if I have packages that need to be mailed I can either brave the lunch crowd (everyone who works who has to go to the PO during it's open hours. Which generally takes the entire lunch hour, maybe a little more because they usually only have one person on duty at lunch.) or I have to take time off work to go.

It is very, very frustrating.

OH, I thought of something else that's open at night. The liquor store.

You do get used to it. But it is frustrating nonetheless.

Okay, I'm off to get ready and go to church. Have a happy day/week.

Since I'm not doing well at posting daily. I'm going to try for every Sunday. Wish me luck!

OOPS. The Good News and the Bad News

2011-01-17T10:52:00.000-08:00

The good news. The 1 Chin project is progressing.
We have sold French rights to the 1st 3 books in the Blood Singer series.
We have sold Russian rights to the 1st 3 books in the Blood Singer series.
I have the stereo set up at my house now.
I have found a way to keep the animals from digging in the potted plants.

The bad news.

I hurt my foot and my shoulder.
Ugh.

Ah well. They'll heal. They always do. But what a pain in the patoot.

Everybody take care.

Cie

The 1 Chin Project

2011-01-11T05:51:00.001-08:00

Okay, for those of you who don't know me personally, if you see a fairly recent picture of me (and believe me, I hope you don't) you will notice that I have had a round, puffy face and multiple chins. This is, in part, due to some medical things that have been going on: a pituitary tumor and hypothyroidism. This is not a big deal, the thyroid thing is actually pretty common and treatable (if tricky). The thing is, the pituitary and thyroid are real big in the whole metabolism thing, and they don't like to give you too much thyroid medicine because it can cause little things like, oh, heart problems.

But, I, personally, have noticed that if I weigh just a bit less, the thyroid meds I'm on work better. It doesn't even have to be a LOT less. Just a few pounds and suddenly I have energy, my hair isn't falling out, and my skin (particularly on my hands and scalp) stops splitting and bleeding (Yeah, it does that. It's that dry. No, lotions and creams don't do much for it. It sucks. And yes, it does hurt. And yes, total strangers come up to me to talk about it. At length.)

SO, right before Christmas (when I was feeling pretty awful) I started the 1 chin program. It is a program of my own design, meant to help me drop those few pounds and feel better. And get me more fit, AND DOWN TO 1 CHIN. Just an ordinary face. With cheekbones. Where my eyes look big.

I walk every other day and do "exercises" for muscle tone on the alternate days from the walking. On alternate days I will eat really well, including oatmeal for breakfast (which is good for your heart and cholesterol levels as well as helping to regulate your blood sugar), fruits and vegetables, low fat, all that happy crap.

On the opposite days of the oatmeal days, I eat what I want. Completely. No, I don't go overboard. But I don't deprive myself either. I like breakfast bowls. So I have one, etc.

After approximately 4 weeks I am down to 1.25 chins. The .25 is loose skin that if I look down becomes a chin. It is not completely gone yet. But it is going. Quickly. HOOYAH!

I have energy most of the time.
I'm sleeping better.
MY HAIR HAS STOPPED FALLING OUT.

MY SKIN HAS STOPPED SPLITTING!!!!!!!!!!!!

And because it's only every-other-day, I'm not feeling deprived at all.

This so rocks.

Now I know most of you really aren't interested. And I probably shouldn't be posting personal stuff anyway. BUT I'M FREAKING HAPPY ABOUT THIS.

I would love to lose a lot of weight. That may or may not happen. But I'm feeling SOOOOOOOOO much better than I did before Christmas. And the meds are actually working at this dosage again. (And maybe there are doctors out there who will say it's a coincidence and body mass doesn't affect thyroid med dosage. Or not. I dunno. I just know my body, and it's working for me.)

So there you go. It takes time (which I don't have a lot of), and effort, but it is SOOOOO turning out to be worth it. And I will probably post about it once in a while.

Cie

Welcome to a New Year

2011-01-03T01:43:00.001-08:00

Welcome to a new year.

Whether I'll be better about posting is anyone's guess. But I've been pondering, and have decided to make some serious changes that I may decide to try to keep track of here (in favor of personal accountability.) Or not. Part of me is a private person. Another part is less so, and willing to post all for all.

I am waiting to hear about several jobs in Colorado. If I hear, then things will move forward on the move. If I do not hear by the end of the week I am going to commit to staying in Texas 1 more year and giving it everything I've got to save money and get the things done to make the move more possible. (I.e., saving more money, writing more, etc.)

I am actually surprisingly okay with this. I have put real effort into making the move happen, and was to the point of desperation and making myself (and people around me) miserable. It hasn't worked. SO I am now going to try a more positive approach. No, I am not thrilled that it looks like it's going to take another year. No, I am NOT thrilled about all the people (well meaning and not) who will give me a hard time about that. But I promise not to strangle the little old lady who goes "Ho ho ho, guess you're stuck here forever. Better get used to it." (Although I have to admit, the last time it was a thought that had to be beat down with a mental club. Like most folks, I really don't enjoy getting laughed at. Go figure.)

I am also back on track working on the whole exercise and eating better thing. We'll see how long it lasts. But I'm going to keep track of that too.

SO, I'm keeping track of writing, fitness, and move prep. The goal is to do at least one small thing every day. Your mission (should you decide to accept it, and no, this isn't going to self-destruct in 10 seconds.) is to counteract all of the negativity and naysaying by giving me lots of positive input.

Now I am off to do said exercising AND to write.

Best to all of you. Wishing you a glorious new year.

OH, and I am going to quote Neil Gaiman's benediction for a new year because he said it better than I would (but then he usually does---which is also okay because he shares and I love reading it.)

Oh hell. I guess I'm not going to since the blasted thing won't cut and paste. LOL. But to paraphrase. He (and I, separately because of course I haven't met him) wish you magic and happiness, to be kissed by someone who thinks you're wonderful (and whom you hopefully think is wonderful as well) that you create art from the heart of you and you have joy and that sometime in the year you surprise yourself.

There, not as poetically written (duh), but still a fine wish for a joyous new year.

Blessings.

Cie

Happy BELATED Thanksgiving & More

2010-11-28T08:06:00.000-08:00

Guten Morgen folks:

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

I'm sorry I didn't get to say that to you earlier, but I was on a last-minute trip to Denver for Thanksgiving with my son and a big job interview.

It was one of those trips.

You know how when things happen at the last minute they tend to have little glitches? (At least they do for me.) Well, boy did I get glitched. Left and right, front and back, fore and aft. Glitched, glitched, glitched. But because of the help of many people (some of whom I have no names for) things worked out fine. So, let me take a moment for a little belated Thanksgiving:

Thanks to the airline folks who caught the mechanical trouble and got our planes changed out. Thanks to the airport folks who got me a different connecting flight after my first flight was delayed due to mechanical difficulties. Thanks to the airport folks who found my lost luggage and got it to me before my interview. Thanks to the vet for taking care of my sick cat, and to his staff for putting up with my MANY MANY calls to see how he was doing. BIG MUCHO THANKS to Cathy for house and pet sitting. BIG MUCHO THANKS to Tonya for taking care of Lucky the Wonder Dog. BIGGER EVEN MORE MUCHO THANKS to Cathy for coming in for the save when my laptop was damaged and I had to call her and have her do rescue information research for me on the fly long distance. BIG MUCHO THANKS to the receptionist and the lovely woman from the Personnel Department at the Greeley Public Schools for their kindness, consideration, and timely intervention. Thanks to my boss in Brady for letting me take the time off. And of course, thanks to my son, for letting me stay with him and providing me with a true Thanksgiving Feast. I love you kiddo.

Whew. I probably missed somebody. But that gives you a clue as to the kind of wild nuttiness that went on.

BUT the keys to what success I have had in this life have mostly been: persistence, hard work, persistence, flexibility, oh, and did I mention . . . PERSISTENCE. So it worked out. I would like to think the interview went well. I'm terribly nervous in interviews, and I never really KNOW how I do. But I'm going to try to think positive.

In the meantime. Hope you had a wonderful holiday. Be happy and take care. I plan to.

Cie

Guten Morgen

2010-11-13T08:16:00.000-08:00

Guten Morgen:

It's been quite a while since I have popped by either blog. Life has intervened. Not in a bad way. Just has. Part of it is that the body has had to adjust to sleeping more thanks to the new meds. Part of it has been simple busy-ness. And part of it has been that there really hasn't been a lot to say. Boring, but true.

But, I do believe boring may be over. I am looking on the bright side. Things are starting to happen. Some of them are pretty darned terrific too.

I have also popped back in the motivational cds. So if I sound like a cheerleader shaking her pom poms, bear with me. I need that energy to get all of the half-done projects to completion, the body back in shape, and the move from the stalled in quicksand stage to completion.

And I want to be happy.

I have LOTS to be grateful for. I am living my dream of being a writer. I have people and pets that I love and who (really somewhat surprisingly) love me. I have food on the table and a roof over my head. I get to do things like read most of the Janet Evanovich/Stephanie Plum novels in order if I want. (I went from Butcher to Harris to Evanovich. LOTS of reading lately.)

Mainly, what I've been doing in my absence from posting is trying to pull my head together. I've been very scattered and somewhat burnt out. (Oh hell, who am I kidding, there was no somewhat to it.) I couldn't focus enough to decide what I wanted, let alone go for it. Don't get me wrong, I had a general goal. But you have to know specifics if you want things to actually HAPPEN.

So, today is a day for specifics. I still have to do some householdy stuff (the laundry fairies have apparently decided not to put me on their list darn it. Same for the housekeeping gnomes). But I have a whole weekend, and I know how to use it.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

BWAH HAHAHAHA.

Update

2010-10-28T00:29:00.000-07:00

I have been reminded that, while I may not have the DISKS of the old origination stuff, I have all the e-mails back and forth and a great deal of other paperwork. SO, I still have enough back-up to verify the originations. Which is good. And of course Cathy has stuff.

I am now over being sore and stiff. This is also good.

One of the minions (bless her heart) is replacing the Simon Green books for me. :)

I am still putting together minion packets for those LOYAL AS A LABRADOR folks. :) Since I've broken through the exhaustion and am writing again, it may be a couple weeks. I will try to make it worth the wait.

Best.

Cie

Really Really REALLY Pooped

2010-10-24T15:25:00.000-07:00

Okay, I don't know if I told you all this, but the other evening I saw a wet spot outside the garage door. I figured something spilled inside, and since I was late for work, I'd deal with it when I got home.

Well, it was a REALLY rough day at work, and I opened the door from the house into the garage and saw . . . disaster. TOTAL disaster.

Apparently the water heater sprang a leak and drained into the garage, so that all of the boxes on the bottom level were soaked. When they got soaked, they gave out, and all of the boxes on top tipped over, falling everywhere into a total wreck.

Today I got to clear out the garage, repack what could be saved, pitch what couldn't, while the landlord fixed the water heater.

I mostly lost books. Because, of course I have a Gazillion books and they're the heaviest, so they were on the bottom level. Gone is my complete collection of Agatha Christie; all but 2 of my Simon Green books, several of my Dick Francis mysteries, almost all of my writing reference books, one entire file cabinet worth of writing research, all of the bound and unbound original draft manuscript pages, old disks (which is no huge loss because they won't work in any of the computers I have now anyway but which I always kept for proof of the original origination of the various series); One or two of my idea notebooks; all of the certificates for the various awards my son won throughout his school career. (The trophies survived though.) Going through it was depressing, frustrating, and exhausting. But there you go. It could've been much, MUCH worse. So I am grateful. And now things are re-boxed nicely, labeled, re-taped, and in much better shape. So it's probably for the best. But I am going to take a LONG hot bath, (now that the water heater is working again) and go to bed.

G'night.

Cie

Dear Lackeys:

2010-10-20T03:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Lackeys:

I have FINALLY found the address book with your e-mail addresses. (It was in a small notebook that was in with some tax stuff. Since I was passive-aggressively avoiding going through it for my accountant . . . well, you get the gist.)

Since I have NOT done anything for the lackeys and minions for simply ages I find myself wondering if I even still HAVE any lackeys and minions. YIKES. How can I be a not-so-evil overlord without underlings? I can't. It's that simple.

SO, I'm going to send out an e-mail in the next few days and post here and on MySpace and Facebook. (Probably not Twitter. They don't like me on Twitter. I don't know why, but POO on them!)

Those loyal lackeys and minions who respond will receive a special gift. New lackeys and minions will receive something suitable, but not nearly so nice. (Rank has its privileges after all.)

And for those of you who wondered about the calendars last year.

They didn't turn out well. They looked like crapola. So I couldn't bring myself to mail them to you. Spent the money, but -- there you go. Quality control and all that.

As for the writing. I have been on an enforced hiatus. My body insisted on more sleep due to stress from the day job and the fact that I caught the flu. The flu is now gone. SO, I'm hoping to be able to write again. Of course the first bits are always crap. You get out of shape and practice in writing just as you do in an exercise program. Which I also need to do.

ANYWAY, be well, be happy, and if you are a lackey or minion and want to support your overlord, e-mail me at catadamsfans@gmail.com with I AM LOYAL LIKE A LABRADOR in the Re.

Bestest.

Cie/C.T. Adams/1/2 of Cat Adams/Yes Ma'am your NSEO Ma'am

Short Story

2010-10-10T18:36:00.001-07:00

Had an idea for a short story on the trip. Then got the flu coming back. Am now thinking of it and thought I'd do it as a special for the blog.

************************************************

Lovie's mama had never really believed in her talent. When, as a small child she'd run to her mother, looking for sympathy, she'd been met with a swat on the behind and told to "shut your lyin' mouth."

So she'd stopped telling. She kept it a secret from everyone. Everyone except Jewel Johnson, her very best friend in the whole world. Jewel knew. Jewel understood. Which was good. Because when things got very bad Lovie had someone to run to, someone to tell.

Like the night when mama's pimp decided to "teach her a lesson" use her as an example to keep the other ho's in line. Lovie woke in a cold sweat, lying in the bed next to Jewel, and she knew. Her mama was alone, afraid, and dying; bleeding her life away under a pile of garbage next to a dumpster in the alley between Second and Jefferson streets.

Crawling out of bed she tiptoed into the Johnson's kitchen where Geneva, Jewel's mama, had her cell phone on the charger. With trembling fingers she took the phone and dialed 9-1-1, praying that the person on the line would believe her.

That had been almost years ago. Mama never spoke of it. Grandma had picked Lovie up from school, driven her to get mama from the hospital, and just kept driving. All the way to Chicago. Now mama lived down the street from Grandma and Uncle Leroy and worked as a checker at the Quicki Mart. Lovie was the first one in the family to go to college. She lived in the dorm with a roommate who was never there, worked part time at the campus bookstore, and drove an old beater of a Toyota out to church and to visit the family pretty much every Sunday.

On the outside her life looked pretty ordinary. She worked hard to keep it that way. In spite of her talent.

Sunday night rolled around again. It had been a good day, in spite of the weather. It had been a cold day for spring, just this side of freezing, so that the mist-laden wind off the lake cut through you like a sharpened knife. Now that the sun was going down the moisture on the roads was starting to freeze forming black ice that was practically invisible and dangerous as hell. She closed the door to the dorm room behind her, tossing her purse and keys onto the battered old desk against the wall. Shrugging out of her jacket, she kicked off her shoes. She was glad to be home. Glad to be off the roads. The drive had really taken it out of her. And while she should probably study, she was too exhausted for it to do her any good. So she stripped off her clothes, pulled on the oversized tee-shirt she wore to bed most nights, and crawled beneath the covers. She figured she was too tired to dream.

She was wrong.

Okay guys. I'm out of gas. End of part one, draft one.

The Moment

2010-10-06T15:28:00.000-07:00

One of the saddest moments in life is that instant when a dream dies.

All of us, whether we like to admit it or not, secretly believe that we're special, unique, and gifted. And maybe we are.

But we're not always gifted in the direction we want to be. And sometimes, even if we are, the timing is wrong, or life intervenes, and we suddenly look up and realize . . .

It isn't going to happen.

For whatever reason, there's no longer the chance of it coming true.

In that moment a part of you dies. Not even a little part. And the pain is incredible. Some people can't cope. They end it all because they're not willing to "settle." Others become bitter and angry, lashing out at everyone, but most particularly at those "lucky ones" who have succeeded in achieving the dream.

But I admire the others. The ones who look at the dream the way you look at a lost lover, with regret, some sadness, but an appreciation for something special that's time has ended. These are the people who find themselves another dream, a different one, one they can still achieve: the athletes in the paraplegic games, the wheelchair racers, the seventy year old who takes up painting for the first time.

And sometimes, surprisingly, the second dream becomes just as passionate, just as important, just as fulfilling. Maybe even more so. Yes, there will always be the bittersweet memory of what could have been. But the joy of what IS is enough to compensate for it.

There are other joys as well---smaller in scope, but no less important. The strength of a small child's hug when Grandma comes to visit. The awe-inspiring sight of meteors streaking across a midnight sky. Achievement is not everything. It is possible to be so goal oriented that you miss the journey--and the joy of living. What's the old joke -- "nobody on their deathbed ever says 'I wish I spent more time at work.'"

When the dream of a lifetime isn't achievable it's easy to believe that you're NOT important, NOT special, NOT worthwhile.

But it isn't true.

Just my thoughts. For what it's worth.
Cie

Sleep will be glorious

2010-10-05T19:04:00.000-07:00

I am back from my back-to-back trips. The first, to Denver for the Mountains and Plains Independent Booksellers was wondrous in a businessy way. Of course my gorgeous business cards did NOT arrive in time, which means I will be sending "glad I met you notes" to some of the people I met with cards enclosed rather than just having traded cards at the event. Le sigh.

The second, a trip to visit my parents in Illinois was absolutely spectacular in the warm family way. I'd missed them horribly and am SOOOOOO glad I got to visit.

Also in there were the edits, and attempts at helping Cathy on the current manuscript, and the launch of Siren Song, etc. All of these are good and happy things.

But I am now freaking exhausted. Sleep tonight will be absolutely glorious.

I realized just HOW badly the lack of sleep was affecting me when I did not in the slightest remember the contests I'd put in a couple of blogs launching Siren Song. Didn't have a clue what the entrants were talking about. Told Cathy it must have been one of the ones she sponsored. She denied it vehemently. So I wrote the publicist and a couple other people asking them if they knew about it. Imagine my embarassment when, after I'd been driving an hour to the nearest city to deal with bill paying and business shopping emergencies I realized that I was the one who'd done it. At like 4:00 or 4:30 in the morning. So maybe I get a bye on the whole not remembering it thing. I'm REALLY not at my best in the early early morning.

One good thing about the travel. I started having some wonderful ideas for short stories and sticky plot points in the novels, which is quite cool.

I also am doing some things that are meant to help others (like the woman who needs to get her dog trained as an assistance animal and needs autographed quilt pieces which she will then use in the quilt she is putting up for auction to raise money. And other things for other people as well.

But for now, and the nonce, I am going to snug the puppydog and go to BED, where I will indulge in glorious sleep.

Best.

Cie

Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you tomorrow . . .

2010-09-27T18:30:00.000-07:00

All right. I am exhausted. Just about ready to fall into bed. Tomorrow is another early morning at which point THE EDITS WILL BE FINISHED. (WHOOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOO!!!!) I will rush them off to the editor/publisher and then move on to the next huge frantic thing on my plate. Believe me, there is ALWAYS the next huge frantic thing.

I love the writing gig. But it is exhausting. And exhilerating. Must never, ever forget exhilerating. Because all my life I wanted to be able to say things like: "TOMORROW'S THE RELEASE DATE FOR THE NEXT BOOK." Which it is.

Which is freaking cool come to think on it. Not only was there one book. There have been MANY books. Enough that I can refer to the NEXT one knowing there were not only several preceding it, but are several more scheduled to follow. HOW COOL IS THAT?

Seriously, from the time I picked up my first picture book I wanted to be an author.

And I am.

So, no matter how much I whine about deadlines, (Which should really be called something else if you're not supposed to whine. I mean, really, DEADlines just BEGS for whining.) I love what I do. I love the blogs (like this one) that have no point, but are meant to keep me in touch with the folks who actually read the books, or the ones at places like BITTEN BY BOOKS where I get lots of new folks commenting on my supposedly intelligent post (you will note the qualifier. On days like today I'm really not sure how intelligent the post actually is.) and competing for a prize.

But now I am tired. Tomorrow the edits are due on Demon Song. Tomorrow is the release day for the NEXT BOOK Siren Song. This is my career and I am proud of it, and happy and honored that people enjoy playing in my imaginary worlds.

Joy to you all.

G'night.

Cie

I Need a Favor

2010-09-27T04:15:00.000-07:00

Okay guys. I need a favor. I'm over at Bitten By Books today (off and on. I do have the day job). I need people to comment to get the ball rolling. Could you please stop by: http://bittenbybooks.com/p=30991 and comment. The good news is, one of the commentees will have their name drawn out of a hat to win an autographed copy of Siren Song and a $20.00 gift certificate to either Barnes & Noble or Borders.

On another note (C#) I am back from the Mountains and Plains Booksellers Convention in Denver. It was a WONDERFUL event, and I met lots of great book people. Book people are the best! Of course the travel wore me out. It always does. So I spent most of Sunday sacked out. I got up for church and to eat. That's about it. Oh, I did take a short walk in the evening to get the groceries so I COULD eat. But I think in the last 48 hours I've slept something like 30 of them. And I am now feeling MUCH better.

I got a migraine in the airport in Denver. It was bad enough that I needed to hurl. But I couldn't hurl for fear that my head would explode---and I'd survive it.

For those of you who think a migraine is just a "headache" let me give you a couple of comparisons: (End each with "as headache is to migraine")

Hill is to Everest . . .
Cup of water is to the Pacific Ocean . . .
$.01 is to the national deficit . . .

You get the idea.

Fortunately, I took something and after an hour or so I was reasonably functional---at least enough to get home. Thank God for medicine. Seriously.

Okay, I'm off.

Moody Day

2010-09-22T03:37:00.000-07:00

Morning guys. Another fairly early one. 5:30. Was going for 4:30, but just couldn't make myself do it. Grumpy and a bit tired. I'll get over it though. I'm looking forward to the trip, even if it is only a quick hop. The cats won't even have time to get used to the housesitter. Just as well. I miss 'em when I'm gone more than a day or two.

Thrilled that I found out I am actually in an anthology with Neil Gaiman. How cool is that?

HAVE to get moving on some of the stuff on my plate. But this morning I AM WRITING.

Sometimes in the press of all of the other happy horseshit involved in "being a writer" I lose the time for actually doing the freaking job. But if there is no copy, there IS no job.

SO, I'm off to write. And just thinking that makes me smile. I'm beginning to wonder if that wasn't the source of the grumpies I was having. Too much time working on the business without enough time working on the creative. HMNNN. Something to think about.

UGH

2010-09-19T12:23:00.000-07:00

Ugh. I am having a bad case of the don' wanna's. I need to go into the hot, box-filled garage again (I spent a couple hours there the other night) and look for the Guns and Ammo magazine that has Cathy's article in it, and also find the black suede skirt that is for dressy occasions that I was absolutely sure I woudn't need until after I moved, only now I DO need it.

Or, in the alternative, I need to gather receipts and enter them into Quicken on the new computer for taxes.

AND, I REPEAT.

I DON'T WANNA.

I have discovered that it has now been long enough since I had fun (as opposed to a nice time, which while, well, nice, is not FUN) that I may have forgotten how. THIS is a problem that requires attention. But apparently NOT today as I have to find my freakin' skirt before I do the upcoming appearance, and I really DID promise to find the freakin' magazine as well.

WAH!!

Interesting, but now what do I do with it?

2010-09-17T05:52:00.000-07:00

Okay, I did a little test run to see if what I suspected was true. First, that my MySpace page has pretty much died from lack of attention. Next, for reasons known only to the mystics, folks on Twitter really don't pay attention to my posts. And for similar (or possibly different) unknown reasons the folks on Facebook are really into it and respond to me. I don't know if it's different demographics, or what. But Cathy does nada on Facebook and is really popular on Twitter. Very weird.

So I will probably do most of my marketing to Facebook. I mean, I had a contest for a signed copy of Siren Song to folks to responded and I am STILL getting entries the next day while I did not get a SINGLE RESPONSE on Twitter. Not one. (Listen to the sound of crickets.)

I will also try to do better about blogging so that maybe the folks here and on Myspace will come back. But that's trickier. Because while it is mostly stream of consciousness stuff, my consciousness has been pretty damn dammed lately. (Robust family of beavers moved in or something. I believe their last name is "EXHAUSTION")

And look, it's time for the day job again.

BYE.

Cie

4:48 and I'm at the Computer

2010-09-14T02:48:00.000-07:00

4:48. I'm not sleeping. I've been writing. Not all that well, either. Sadly. If I'm not going to sleep, I at least would like to be putting out deathless prose. Alas, that is apparently not meant to be.

Stuff, Nonsense, and a Collection

2010-09-13T05:49:00.001-07:00

Good morning.

I have just under ten minutes before the day job officially starts. I am in a good mood. For a Monday that is darned near miraculous so we should all look up and say "THANKS".

And now we return to our regularly scheduled programming.

I have been writing for a while now. Okay, let me rephrase that. I have been writing since I started learning to read. I have been being published regularly for a while now. Like a lot of writers I can't always tell you where inspiration comes from. But I do have "touchstones." When I'm writing a book it helps to have sensory input that puts me in the book reality instead of the office. And over the past few years I've collected one or two things per book.

So far the collection consists of (in no particular order, just how I remember them).

Framed prints of the covers of our books.

WIP -- A dragon pocketwatch with a blood red stone, ordered from e-bay, arriving soon; and a dragon ear-wrap earring, ditto and a set of Chinese dragon bells.

Timeless Moon -- A porcelain doll that I swear is exactly the way I saw Liselle/Amber in my head in her past.

Howling Moon -- A stuffed jaguar that Cathy gave me.

Blood Song - the photo that inspired the whole series for me and a bunch of music that speaks to me of the various characters.

Magic's Design - a statue of the tree of life. (Bonsai)

There's more, but I'm running out of time. But it is fun/cool being able to look at my shelves and see my touchstones, reliving the process of creating those worlds.

Officially Procrastinating

2010-09-10T03:48:00.000-07:00

Okay, got up early. Got ready to write. Have now, checked e-mails, visited Facebook (I had an e-mail that somebody read the whole Thrall series back-to-back and loved them, I mean, how could I resist?), visited Twitter, have stopped by here. But I finally had to admit it was procrastination when I played solitaire. YES the deck on the new computer is really pretty, but COME ON.

SO, while yesterday at work sucked big-scum-covered-pond-rocks with a Hoover, and I am just about as empty-headed as a human being can possibly be, I am not going to blog any longer. I am going to fess up to my procrastination and kick it in the nu..... teeth. Kick it in the TEETH.

Toodles.

Where have I been?

2010-09-09T05:44:00.000-07:00

Okay, things have been nutsoid.

Day job has been shorthanded and balls-to-the-wall busy and stressful, and since it's summer there have been vacations to work around (including my time off to go to Colorado and look at the house).

There have been the negotiations on said house. We have hit snags, but I think it will work out.

There have been the financial arrangements to try to get said house (time consuming and a pain in the patoot since most banks aren't thrilled when most of your income is through self-employment).

My computer died (after ten years of hard use) and I had to shop, find one I wanted, buy it, install it, load the modem software, load all of the other software, unload the stuff that won't work with Windows 7, swear, find other software to replace that stuff (YES it was old, but it did what I wanted the way I wanted darn it).

Because of the paragraph above I got behind on oh, you know, that whole WRITING thing.

And things still aren't slowing down.

SO, I can officially say that until mid-November, I will probably be visiting only sporadically.

BUT I MISS YOU.

FOUND IT!

2010-08-31T05:49:00.000-07:00

Okay, found the house I want. Put in an offer. There is a small(ish) snafu that we are working through. But I am staying positive. I believe things will work out and I am very happy about it.

If all goes well I will be moving at the tail end of October/beginning of November and will be settled in my new home by Thanksgiving.

YAHOOO!!!

Arrangements Made

2010-08-26T05:51:00.000-07:00

Ah -- it's always fun trying to organize life around travel. Housesitter - CHECK, Dogsitter - CHECK, Time off work - CHECK, the list goes on and on. But this time I think it's going to be worth it. I think. I hope. PLEASE.

Cie

Good Morning

2010-08-24T05:44:00.000-07:00

It's morning. Again. It does this to me every day, and I'm never ready. My body rolls over and groans NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

But while I can ignore the alarm clock (or sleep through it, despite the fact it's on full volume and in my awake moments makes me cringe with its resemblance to one of those civil alert sirens), I cannot ignore the cat.

Tibbs is the spokescat for the animals in the household and he has an entire repertoire of moves to get me out of the bed. (Think "Simon's Cat" without the ball bat.)

I am very excited about househunting this weekend in Colorado. I really believe I may have found the place. NOW I need to find the employment, etc.

Wish me very good luck.

Cie

Ok, um, wow.

2010-08-21T06:16:00.000-07:00

All right, this is a catchup post, and then I'll write something off of the top of my head for Saturday breakfast. Since I have absolutely no clue whatsoever, it could be interesting. Or dull as dishwater.

First -- my computer is now heading toward retirement. It's been limping along for a while, but the last windows update has finally done it in. Windows now takes ALL of my memory on the C drive so that I can't run anything. Of course the timing sucketh. But doesn't it always? I mean, for a writer there is never a good time to have computer problems. But, there you go. I will keep you advised. Unfortunately, this has put me behind on EVERYTHING because the day job has heated up, so I can't do my personal things during the day, and I can't do things at night, which translates to nothing getting done.

Second -- my plumbing is giving me fits. So I am waiting for a decent hour to call the landlady to get the plumber in. NOT the way I had envisioned spending my Saturday, but again, there you go.

Third -- I MAY HAVE FOUND MY HOUSE. As y'all know, I've been trying to move back to Colorado for a LOOOOOOOOOOONG time. And between one thing and another it just hasn't worked out. BUT, I think I may have found a house I can love AND afford. I will be going to look at it next week and will keep you advised. WOOOO HOOO!

Fourth -- still haven't adjusted to the meds. Sleeping a LOT. Of course, part of that could be the heat. The body does not love the triple digits. It just doesn't.

**************************************

"There once was a girl from Nantucket . . ."

"Stop. Stop right there. Whatever you're about to say, just don't." I raised my hands to ward off what was most likely going to be an obscene limerick. I mean, really Nantucket? It just BEGS for a certain rhyme.

"Aw come on Nan, you said you needed a good laugh." Kevin gave me puppydog eyes. He's good at it. He's got the biggest, chocolate brown eyes you've ever seen, with lashes that most women would kill for. Of course he knows it, and uses it to his advantage every chance he gets. He's not a player, or an ass, but a flirt? Oh hell yes. He has been trying, unsuccessfully, to get into my pants for most all of the two years I've known him. I don't think he's really that interested in me personally. If it was, I might take him up on it. But it's the challenge that interests him. So I won't. "What's the matter anyway? You haven't been yourself for a couple of weeks." He leaned up against the counter, his uniform vest falling open to give me a good look at a very nice polo shirt worn over an even nicer chest.

What was the matter with me? Other than a bout of serious sexual frustration, the usual lack of money, and an ongoing argument with my soon-to-be-former-if-she-didn't-pay-up roommate? I was bored. Stupid, I know. I mean, yeah, my job isn't great. But it's a job. In this economy I'm glad to have it. Terry, the guy I've been dating off-and-on, is nice enough. A bit dull, predictable. No. No, dependable. I need to start thinking positive. I can absolutely depend on Terry to . . . be dull as dishwater.

Oh, hell!

I turned to Kevin. Looking him straight in those big brown eyes I told him the absolute truth. "I'm bored. Every day of my life is just like every other day. Just once I'd like a little adventure, some excitement."

Be careful what you ask for.

Sometimes you get it.

OOPS. Misquote

2010-08-17T05:47:00.000-07:00

OOPS, I misquoted the book. It's "Do you seek the light or the dark." I think. I don't have it in front of me now either.

ANYWAY, it's called Lady Lazarus it will be coming out from Tor. It was good, but I find I'm having a hard time coming up with a pithy quote for it.

I'm also having a hard time getting anything done--including posting (as you may have noticed). It has to do with having my prescriptions changed and starting exercising. Instead of having insomnia I am now sleeping like a dead thing for hours. This is good for my body. It is not so good for my productivity. And oddly, it's not that I'm taking sleeping pills. I'm not. But my body is having the sleep as a side-effect to the prescription for another minor medical thing. SO, I'm doing better physically, but my life feels like it's getting away from me.

Alas, the heat has also been baking any semblance of ambition out of me. There are people who are okay with long spells in the triple digits. I am not one of them. Nor am I good in the negative temperatures. I know, fuss, fuss, fuss.

I have been having trouble again with packages not getting where I need them to be. Sigh. One of my projects is to track down everybody who has won something to ask them if they got it.

Now, off I go, hi ho hi ho.

Cie

Le Sigh

2010-08-09T05:42:00.000-07:00

Every day is a new beginning.

This is a good thing. It gives us hope. Because no matter how much you may have screwed up in the past, you get to move forward and can change things. But no matter how successful you are, you need to be careful, because you can't coast.

Habits are hard to change, but they CAN be changed.

I have several times declared a "do over" here on the blog. Mostly my life is very good. But like everyone else I screw up. And because I tend to take risks I can screw up pretty spectacularly. And since I believe we are responsible for our actions, inactions, and the results of our actions and inactions, it can sometimes take quite a while for me to regroup after some of the more intense screwups. And that's okay too. Because we learn from our mistakes if we're willing.

I have been wrestling with myself for a bit now trying to figure out the big questions.

What do I want?
What am I willing to do to get it?
What am I NOT willing to do?
Will it be attainable if I do what I'm willing to do, or do I need to let it go?

I read a historical paranormal (they're looking for a quote, which I don't usually do.) It was quite good. The two big questions in it were:

Who do you love?
Are you working for the light or the dark?

Welcome to Another Day

2010-08-07T10:24:00.000-07:00

Hi Guys! I've only got a minute. Life has been BUSY. Not bad, but busy enough that I took a day to just putter yesterday or I was going to lose my mind. Even at that I wound up running errands for about half of it.

Just watched Bowling for Soup's "1985". Still bopping around grinning. Is it a bad thing that I recognize every one of the videos they're spoofing? I do miss my hair metal. Truly. And I can SOOOOOO relate to the lyrics. I mean, seriously, MTV stood for MUSIC television. Been a LONG time since they could say that hunh. And "The Real World" just freakin scares me. Of course, for the most part I really am not a fan of reality television. Those shows SO aren't my reality. Of course my reality would bore the socks off of everybody. (Not the pants. That would be too interesting. Nope, the SOCKS.)

Next week I'll come up with the new serial. But for today, know that I'm bebopping around singing:

Bruce Springsteen
Madonna
Way before Nirvana
it was
U2 and Blondie
and music still on MTV
her two kids
in high school
They tell her that she's uncool.
'Cause she's still preoccupied
with 19
19
1985.

Why I Usually Don't Read Reviews.

2010-07-27T05:42:00.000-07:00

Okay, reviews are important. They give readers an idea of what to expect from a book.

But I don't usually read them.

Why?

1. Because it's too late. The book is on the shelves. It's finished the editing process. For good or bad, I can't go back and change it.

2. Because if the reviews are great I get a swelled head. Praise is a wonderful thing. Getting cocky isn't. And yes, I try not to. But sometimes it's wonderful to have the old ego get a good stroking.

ON THE OTHER HAND

3. Because if the reviews are horrible I get seriously down in the dumps, wonder if I'm really any good at this, etc. One bad review has more power than 50 good ones. Seriously.

So, write your review. Post your review. I thank you for the time and effort. I appreciate you letting other readers know what you think so that they will (hopefully) read the books. But know that I probably won't read the review.

Cie

Stuff

2010-07-26T05:53:00.000-07:00

Good morning. I would love to have something wonderful and enthralling to tell you all. But, alas, nada. Oh, wait. My niece had her baby. A beautiful girl. Both are happy and healthy from what I hear.

Oh, and I colored my hair. Reddish brown. Highlights to follow. I also (GASP) trimmed the ends and bangs myself. This means that they may be crooked and I will get scolded harshly by the hairdresser when, eventually, I go out of town to get it officially cut. But I literally COULD NOT STAND IT ANOTHER MINUTE!!! And even crooked (I'm guessing here, since I can't see the back and cut it by bending over and combing it down first. I did check using two mirrors after though and it didn't look too bad.) would be better than it was, which was hideous.

Alas, I am also losing quite a lot of hair. This, of course, is due to the thyroid and pituitary crap. Since I'm really not feeling bad I must only be off a bit. I have an appointment with the doctor soon. But honestly, if the worst that happens is my hair gets thinner, I will live with it. Actually, I'll have to live with it anyway, probably. But while I would not particularly like to go bald, I still have quite a lot of hair left.

Oh, and I've been exercising. Which means that I will be sore for a day or two. But they swear it is good for me and I DO feel better once I'm a week or two into it. Also, losing weight seems to help with the thyroid meds. (Don't ask me why. Just seems to. Maybe less mass=more effective.) Of course the thyroid/pituitary crap does making losing weight considerably harder. But HEY, I like a challenge, right?

Okay, day job calls. Gotta go.

Later.

Cie

Saturday Morning Breakfast Serial

2010-07-24T06:53:00.000-07:00

Okay guys, I've got a gazillion and one things to do today, so I need to get moving. But I owe you a serial. In fact, I believe I may owe you the CONCLUSION to the serial. SO . . . .

**********************************

Ryan smiled at the sound of Carrie's gasp. It was the nastiest smile I'd ever seen. It promised trouble of the worst kind. He drew the gun and used it to gesture that the girls should go ahead of him into Jen's room. As they passed I saw that Jen had a knife palmed and held against her thigh. That terrified me. Because a knife would be no match for a gun and, smart as she was, she might just try something stupid if he made her desperate enough.

"A computer. Well, well, aren't we coming up in the world."

"I bought it at the junk shop. It's too old for you to pawn."

He looked me over carefully. While he did I sent an urgent e-mail to everyone on the girls mailing lists: "HELP! RYAN BROKE IN. HE HAS A GUN!!! CALL THE COPS!!" All caps, LOTS of exclamation points. Everybody in the girl's circle knew Ryan was bad news. Hopefully one of them would be online and would do something.

"You're probably right." He finally admitted. He ordered the girls to sit on the bed and began throwing things around, rummaging through Jen's meager belongings, deliberately making as much mess as he could. It was obvious he was enjoying the tight-lipped fury she couldn't hide. While he was ransacking the place, I did a little hacking, managing to get control of the traffic camera attached to the stoplight a block over. I rotated it until it was aimed directly through the bedroom window.

Try as I might, I couldn't think of much else I could do. Not with him standing so far away.

"Nothing. Not a fuckin' thing. You are so pathetic." He shook his head. Grabbing the lamp from the makeshift desk with his left hand he swung it in a vicious arc, stepping towards me as he did. Jen and Carrie shrieked as the metal base smashed into my monitor with the sound of breaking glass and the crack of shattering plastic.

PAIN, hideous pain shot through me. He was off-balance from the blow. He was in reach. This was my only possible chance. I wrapped my cords around his ankles without him noticing. When he lunged to grab my base unit the cords tripped him, sending him crashing to the ground.

Everything seemed to happen at once. The gun went off, the shot shattering the window. Ryan's head hit the corner of one of the cinderblocks forming the bookshelves, breaking open his skull. Pulled off-balance I felt myself crashing downward onto his inert form.

Then nothing.

**************************************

I woke on a workbench. A fancy new monitor had been attached to me. I was in a new case. I felt . . . great. Really great.

Taking a look around I saw Carrie and Jen counting money out to the skinny man with glasses standing in front of the workbench.

"I still think you guys are nuts. I mean, yeah, the guts of it were still okay, but it's old. I could get you a much newer model for less than you're spending "

"No." Carrie said firmly.

"Absolutely not!" Jen gave him a horrified look. "We'll pay. But we want Ed. He's special to us."

Glad they thought so. The two of them were pretty special to me, too.

Hi!

2010-07-23T05:54:00.000-07:00

Hi Guys! It's FRIDAY!

WOOT!

Life is incredibly busy. I only have a couple minutes until I have to start in at the day job. I'm looking forward to posting the finale of "Ed" for the breakfast serial tomorrow, and I have a pretty cool idea for the next one brewing in the back of my mind.

Gotta go.

Cie

Saturday Morning Breakfast Serial

2010-07-17T05:05:00.000-07:00

Okay, we've been short-handed at the day job, and busy besides, so I've been a bit pooped. I also have produced some short stuff, and a blog that will be going up on Tor.com (Oh, and you REALLY should stop by there. I have a short story "Olga" up there, and Cathy's got one up as well. And, as I said, I've got a blog coming there in the next couple of days.) In fact, I've had so many different things going, I'm having trouble wrapping my head around it. BUT, busy is good. I'm not complaining. I have a job. (In this economy that's saying something!) I have my writing. (Which sometimes frustrates me, because I want so much to be better at it, but I really love it.) I have loving family, friends, and pets. So, life is good.

Oh, and before I forget, I am excited to announce that I am now represented by Lucienne Diver of The Knight Agency. :) Merrilee Heifetz, my previous agent, is a wonderful person and a tremendously skilled agent, but we had a different vision for my individual future (aside from the joint projects with Cathy). So with no animus, or onus on either party, a change has been made.

NOW ON TO THE SERIAL:

********************************

You expect that if bad things are going to happen, they'll happen at night. The burglar, or rapist will sneak in through the bedroom window in the wee hours between bedtime and sunrise. It isn't always so. Sometimes the bad things happen in broad daylight.

I don't know how Ryan found out the girls were doing well. Maybe he heard it from one of the patrons from the bar, or around the neighborhood. Maybe he noticed the curtains and decided to investigate. I suppose it doesn't matter. But disaster struck on Saturday afternoon. The girls came back from the store, arms laden with groceries. Carrie hooked a foot around the edge of the door to kick it closed and followed Jen into the kitchen. She would've locked it after she set down the bags in her arms. She always did.

She never got the chance.

They were chattering and laughing in the kitchen as, very quietly, Ryan opened the door and stepped into the living room. He pulled it quietly closed behind him, flipping the lock.

"Well, well, well. Would you look at this. You two sure seem to be doing well."

"Get out." Carrie's voice was cold. In less than a second, her cheerful expression had hardened like stone. Slowly, carefully, Jen moved her body so that she faced Ryan. Hand behind her back, she very quietly reached into the silverware drawer and pulled out a steak knife.

"Now is that any way to talk to the love of your life?" He scolded. He sounded almost obscenely cheerful.

"Get out." She repeated. She was furious, but I could hear a tiny thread of fear in her voice. Apparently Ryan could too. He smiled.

"Oh, I don't think so. Not without what I came for."

"What do you want?" Jen asked. She held the knife in a white-knuckled grip behind her back, blade ready for an upward thrust. Clever girl. It's too easy to block a downward strike.

"You always did get right to the point." The fake cheer faded from his face. "What do you think I want?"

"Money." Jen answered. "That's what you always want isn't it?"

"Got that right. And you two seem to have more than enough to spare."

"I've got twenty bucks." Carrie said. She was still angry, but there was a sense of tired hope in her voice. An almost audible thought that, if she gave him her cash, maybe he'd just go. "I spent the rest at the store."

"Jen?"

"Ten."

He shook his head in mock sorrow. "Ladies, ladies, I just know you can do better than that. LOOK at this place." He smiled dangerously. "Jen, why don't we just check in that bedroom you used to keep locked up so tight. I just bet there's something worth pawning in there."

He turned toward the bedroom door, and the light jacket he wore unzipped moved slightly, showing the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans.

Carrie gasped, her eyes widening in fear.

Thoughtful

2010-07-14T03:47:00.000-07:00

I have been remarkably lucky. While my grandparents died when I was fairly young (one before I was born), and I've had a couple of friends and acqaintances (and much loved pets) die, my life has mostly gone on pretty smoothly from that point of view.

I have friends who are a couple who had two children. They are a loving couple, great, doting parents, who are adventurous, really involved . . . great. And a little over a year ago they lost one of their daughters. It was sudden, unexpected, and horrifying. And there is absolutely nothing I can do to ease their pain.

I really wish there was.

Time

2010-07-12T03:02:00.000-07:00

I am currently working on the first book in a new world I've created, the Guardians of Time series. So I've been thinking about time.

First, we take it absolutely for granted. It's like the air we breathe, the ground we walk on, gravity. Unless something goes wrong ("Oh CRAP, I'm LATE") we pay it no attention, or even wish it away. ("I can't wait for the weekend." "WHEN will this meeting END?") Very seldom do we actualy live in the moment, appreciating it for what it is: a truly fleeting thing. The next moment is never promised for us. We could end. But time will keep flowing on.

People can live in the future. "Someday baby, we'll have enough money to take that vacation you've always dreamed of." Or they can live in the past, "When I was a kid . . .."

But mostly we just exist in it without ever paying attention to it at all. Then suddenly we look up and a huge chunk of it has passed and we kind of blink and go "WHOA how did THAT happen?"

And while I am sorry about it, you CAN'T appreciate every moment. I mean, get real, who's going to appreciate getting reamed by their boss, or broken up with, or (oooo baby) having the flu? To paraphrase from The Incredibles, if every moment is special, none of them are.

So here's to time. For the next hour or so of it I am going to try to stay off of the internet (which eats big whomping chunks) and try to write something.

Best wishes.

Cie

Saturday Morning Breakfast Serial

2010-07-10T04:38:00.000-07:00

Good morning, I've got a ton to do. But I've promised myself I'll be better about stuff like posting the serial. So, here I go.

****************************

Ryan left that night. Things were tense the first few days, wondering when he'd come back. But when days stretched into weeks, the tension eased and things slowly began to improve.

Carrie got a job waiting tables at the local bar. It wasn't a lot of money. But it was steady, and it was enough. The sheets that had been hung over the windows with tacks were replaced with curtains---cheap, but cheerful and pretty. Ramen noodles gave way to Hamburger Helper and vegetables.

After some discussion the girls decided to chip in and get basic cable with internet. Now it was my turn to shine. I made sure both girls got plenty of coupons in their e-mail boxes, but screened the spam and scams. When Jen began writing seriously I surreptitiously collected writing contests for her inbox, screening out the ones that weren't reputable, and flat out failing to post the ads and solicitations by folks listed on sites like Writing Predators, and Predators and Editors. Her word processing program had a red button marked "ED" at the top that I'd installed. She thought it was a standard editing feature for the software installed on the machine. It wasn't. But I wasn't going to tell her different. She'd hit ED and I'd make editorial comments and suggestions. Both girls began calling me "Ed." It pleased me to no end. I'd never had a name before.

She worked hard and her writing, and her life, began to steadily improve. So it was no surprise to me when after about six months she placed in a short story contest and won a little money. The girls celebrated with steak and a bottle of wine, toasting each other, me, the future. It was a spectacular night, the best of my life.

I should've known it was too good to last.

Thank you Charlotte

2010-07-09T04:29:00.001-07:00

THANK YOU CHARLOTTE!

Got my fact checking back. I hadn't done too horribly considering I was using internet sources, which tend to be limited and not always reliable. (Yes, there are good ones. But there are also bad ones, and it's hard to tell which are which sometimes.) I got to include some specific details I hadn't known, which helped me to beef up the word count. It's still a little short, but I sent it off to the editor. We'll see what she says.

I have to get moving. I'm the only staff member in the office this week, and it's a ZOO.

Later kids.

Short Story

2010-07-07T17:52:00.000-07:00

Worked on a short story this weekend. I need to get back to the new book, but the story has been nibbling at the back of my mind, and I do have a publisher interested in it for an anthology. I just need to beef it up a bit to get the word count up. I also need to make sure that I have someone check some facts for me. I did some online research, but you have to be careful, because sometimes the online stuff isn't as accurate as it could be. Since I'm dealing with people's religious practices and culture as well as magic, I need to make sure I don't do something heinous.

As soon as my friend gets back on my fact checking, I'll finish editing it and send it off.

It's a romance. In fact, it's one of the most romancy things I've ever written.

We'll just have to see whether or not I've pulled it off properly.

Cie

Saturday Morning Breakfast Serial

2010-07-03T04:31:00.000-07:00

Good Morning. I've got to get working on the paying projects in a couple of minutes, so I'll just get right down to it, after I say that life is pretty good right now, so don't worry.

***************************

BAM, BAM, BAM.

The pounding not only shook the doorframe, it shook the wall. I could feel my cord shudder in its plug.

"Open the f***ing door!" A male voice, slurred with drink and drugs. I was guessing it belonged to Ryan. Such a charmer, waking the entire building at 2:30 in morning.

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen." Jen muttered.

"You're gonna give me the f***ing rent money, and you're doin' it now."

I watched as she sat up in bed, glanced at the clock and winced. Someone on the floor below was pounding on the ceiling with a broomstick in a non-verbal complaint about the racket Ryan was making. The sound was unmistakeable.

"I gave it to the landlord yesterday." The word asshole was implied, but not stated.

"You what?" He was stunned, and outraged.

"I ran into him in the hall." She took a deep breath. "He demanded the money and he told me that if we didn't catch up on last month in the next week he was throwing us out."

There was a pregnant pause. I could hear Carrie in the background. "Last month? Ryan, last month was when I . . . you had me . . . I mean, that's the only reason I . . ." She sounded like she was starting to cry and I had a feeling I didn't want to know what Ryan had had her do to earn their part of the rent.

Ryan's voice was gruff. "He's a lying bastard. I gave him that money."

Even I could tell he was lying, and it's not like I came with polygraph software.

"Look," Jen said with more calm and patience than I would've been able to muster, "I paid him for this month. I don't have any more money. I have to go to work in the morning and I need some sleep. Good night." She flopped down onto her mattress, pulling the blankets up over her head. It took a while for her to fall asleep though. No surprise. Hard to relax when you can clearly hear the sound of your roommate's heartbroken sobs through the closed door.