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
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Short Story
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.
************************************************
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.
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
The Moment
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
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
Tuesday, October 05, 2010
Sleep will be glorious
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
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
Monday, September 27, 2010
Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you tomorrow . . .
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 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
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Moody Day
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.
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.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
UGH
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!!
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!!
Friday, September 17, 2010
Interesting, but now what do I do with it?
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
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
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
4:48 and I'm at the Computer
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.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Stuff, Nonsense, and a Collection
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.
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.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Officially Procrastinating
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.
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.
Thursday, September 09, 2010
Where have I been?
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
FOUND IT!
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!!!
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!!!
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Arrangements Made
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
Cie
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Good Morning
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
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
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Ok, um, wow.
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
OOPS. Misquote
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
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
Monday, August 09, 2010
Le Sigh
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?
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?
Saturday, August 07, 2010
Welcome to Another Day
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.
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.
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