Yesterday on the eHarlequin boards, a writer suffered a severe brain fart, or a severe bout of stupidity, or perhaps an unbecoming bout of both.  :[  She didn’t like a particular book — that’s neither a brain fart or stupid.  Totally her prerogative.  It’s just a fact that people have different taste and that aside, from someone who has sat in the writer hotseat for eleven books now, not all books are created equal.  Not every piece that Mozart wrote and has been recorded is equally brilliant or speaks equally to the same audience.  That’s just a fact of life, the way it is. 

However, to say that published writers get byes because of their published status.  Damn!  I wish someone had told me this way back when.  Here I’ve been toiling under the misnomer that I had to bust my butt to make my book as good as I could get it and that it mattered what my sales figures were.  HTG, it pisses me off to find out that I could’ve just sat back and cruised through cause I get byes now that I’m part of the published club.  Who’d a thunk it?  

Nope, this chick broke the news to all of us.  She took the writers, the line, and the senior editor to task on their home board.  Tacky?  Stupid?  Extremely poor taste?  Wait.  That’s the same as tacky isn’t it?  Yep.  I guess tacky and stupid about sum it up.  Especially considering this particular writer wants to write for the line. 

Hmmm. Perhaps someone needs to share that old adage with her…don’t bite the hand that feeds you…or that you hope will feed you. 

We rushed home from dinner last night so we could catch American Idol.  Not particularly proud of that, but it’s true.  Last night was the worst.  They showed those ding-danged clips of the contestants families and that just messed with my head. 

How could I still want to smack Ms. All American McPhee when her daddy’s sitting there crying cause he’s so moved by her?  Geeze.  And Kelly Pickler the Ain’t I So Cute manipulator…how can I want to toss her out on her what’s-calamari wonderment when I see her grizzled old grampa and her quiet little brother and then Girl tells me her mama was a strung out junkie and her dad’s in prison?  How can you work up a righteous head of boot’em off steam under those circumstances? :(

Even Ace, who I think has slid through more on his boyish laid-back good looks than talent, wormed his way in to my hard little heart.  Elliott, who (or is it whom?) I’ve liked from day one, got shafted on the clips last night.  Here’s the chance for him to increase his standing with women and what do they do to the poor guy?  They run a freaking clip about his health problems and how attached he is to his mama.  A sickly mama’s boy?  No thanks.  They just killed his post-Idol chances with the chicks.  And I think it truly breaks sweet litte Paris’ heart every week when someone has to leave.  She’s a darling and much as I hate to see her go, I worry that lifestyle would chew her up and spit her out.

But in the end, someone had to go and I suppose I felt best about Bucky, who incidentally looks like my niece if she had facial hair, leaving.  He should’ve been on that country star search with Winona instead of AI anyway. 

Maybe I won’t watch any more.  That way I won’t have to sit in my chair and squeeze my eyes shut and cringe when squirrely Ryan S. hands out the death sentence.  Yeah…right. 

A friend sent this to me.  I can only claim amnesty on 5!:)

What about you? 

25 SIGNS YOU HAVE GROWN UP

1. Your houseplants are alive, and you can’t smoke any of them.

2. Having sex in a twin bed is out of the question.

3. You keep more food than beer in the fridge.

4 6:00 AM is when you get up, not when you go to bed.

5. You hear your favorite song in an elevator.

6. You watch the Weather Channel.

7. Your friends marry and divorce instead of “hook up” and “break up.”

8. You go from 130 days of vacation time to 14.

9. Jeans and a sweater no longer qualify as “dressed up.”

10. You’re the one calling the police because those %&@# kids next door
won’t turn down the stereo.

11. Older relatives feel comfortable telling sex jokes around you.

12. You don’t know what time Taco Bell closes anymore.

13. Your car insurance goes down and your car payments go up.

14. You feed your dog Science Diet instead of McDonald’s leftovers.

15. Sleeping on the couch makes your back hurt.

16. You take naps.

17. Dinner and a movie is the whole date instead of the beginning of one.

18. Eating a basket of chicken wings at 3 AM would severely upset, rather
than settle, your stomach.

19. You go to the drug store for ibuprofen and antacid, not condoms and
pregnancy tests.

20. A $4.00 bottle of wine is no longer “pretty good stuff.”

21. You actually eat breakfast food at breakfast time

22. “I just can’t drink the way I used to” replaces “I’m never going to
drink that much again.”

23. 90% of the time you spend in front of a computer is for real work.

24. You drink at home to save money before going to a bar..

25. When you find out your friend is pregnant you congratulate them
instead of asking “Oh S*$# what the hell happened?”

Bonus:
26: You read this entire list looking desperately for one sign that
doesn’t apply to you and can’t find one to save your sorry old butt. Then
you  forward it to a bunch of old pals & friends ’cause you know they’ll
enjoy it & do the same.

“Writers are vacuum cleaners who suck up other people’s lives and weave them into stories like a sparrow building a nest from scraps.” Garrison Keillor

So, break over and I’m back at it today.  Up at 6 a.m. instead of the sinful 10 a.m.  (c)  Girl’s back at school.  Just me and the cats and dogs and a new project.  Today I’m starting a Christmas anthology, Secret Santa.  I’m going to put on a couple of Christmas cd’s to get my head into it — ya know, writing about Christmas on a fine April day.8)

Whew!  Surely tonight will be calm.  We’ve had two crazy nights and I don’t mean of the party variety.  Friday afternoon my dh left for a racing week-end out of town with a couple  of his buddies.  

A little before 4 a.m. Saturday morning I wake up to thuds on the roof, which turn out to be branches, and howling winds.  Then the tornado sirens start to scream over the winds.  Alrighty.  Time to rouse The Girl and hit the basement.  She and I assemble the dogs and cats and spend the remainder of the night downstairs.  Tornados scare me.  Truly frighten me.   Thankfully, it was uneventful other than a big limb in my garden pond and the umbrella on the top deck was a casualty.

Last night around 11:30 I’m surfing the Internet when my front doorbell rings several times – you know, as if someone’s frantic.  WTH?  No one comes to my house at 11:30 p.m.  I look through the peephole.  No one there.  Okay.  Now I’m pissed.  I’m sort of grumpy late at night, especially when I’ve been shorted on sleep the night, or morning rather, before with tornado sirens.

Let me pause here to say that when my dh is out of town, I keep my boyfriend around and handy.  He’s not particularly attractive as he’s short and squat…and plastic :o but he’s a very effective companion.  Mr. Glock is a 9 mm semi-automatic with hollow points in his chamber.  And despite the new fake nails (see previous post) I can still squeeze his trigger.:x

So…back to my story…I unholster Mr. Glock and throw open the front door, hoping whomever rang gets a good look at the welcoming committee.  Then I go back inside and call my dh — I’m not frightened, I’m annoyed.:s 

The dh insists on having one of his friends come over while he stays on the line with me.  Meanwhile his friend is requesting I not shoot him when he comes over. On his way to my house, the friend passes a group of about six teenagers who dive behind bushs and mailboxes when he spots them.  I call the sherriff’s department to request a cruiser drive-thru the neighborhood.  Girl, Mr. Glock, and I had an uneventful, restful night after that.(*) 

Here’s hoping for no tornados and uninvited guest tonight.     

I’ve had manicures before.  It’s not like a weekly or even monthly thing.  But every other month or so I’ll go in and have one done.  Yesterday, on the way to the nail salon, some streak of wild ran through me and I decided to try fake nails.  Because I’m not versed in these things I tried to call my friend who has fake nails and ask her what I was supposed to get. Sort of pitiful when you don’t know your way around the fake-nail menu on the salon wall, huh?  Anyway, I wound up with a “diamond set with American tips.”  I dunno.  I don’t see any diamonds.:d But they look…well, they look real…they look great.  I feel like such a…girl. :x  Who knew?

So this week is Spring Break and The Girl is recupping from her tonsillectomy and I’m in between writing projects and really can’t recall being this relaxed and just flat-out lazy in the last nine months. :)

I’ve read.  I’ve slept.  Got my hair cut and colored yesterday.  Today’s a manicure/pedicure and then a trip to B&N.(y)  Tomorrow Girl and I are having facials and going to see the cerebral Benchwarmers.:p

And my next writing project has been knocking around in my head…(*)