Uber Blood Suckers

Here's an interesting article on the TIME magazine online link:

TIME on VAMPIRE ROMANCES

If you see only half an article when you get to this site and it asks you to subscribe for the other half, just keep hitting the GO button after the URL addy on Internet Explorer. For some reason that brings up the full article sometimes. If you aren't successful and would still like to read it, please email me and I'll send you the rest of the article.

There's mention of three big vampire romance authors--Laurell K. Hamilton, Christine Feehan and Mary Janice Davidson. I thought it was a generally good article, albeit a little sarcastic and tongue-in-cheek, that covered all the relevant points. Also LKH, CF, and MJD all represent the three different genres in this subgenre: horror, paranormal-romance, and chick-lit.

I love LKH's first ten Anita Blake books; she reintroduced me back to the subtle eroticism of the horror genre. But the tone of the books have changed a LOT since book 10, and although her writing is still so compelling, I miss my old Anita very much. I also remember reading Christine's first Dark book and got sucked into that world. What a fantastic beginning hook! Michael in Dark Prince is still one of my favorite rereads. I haven't read MJD's vampire chickie but enjoyed her SECRETS contributions, which were really sexy reads.

As a little girl, when I used to watch vampire movies in the sixties, I would wrap my small pillow around my neck to protect myself. I figured the vampire's teeth weren't long enough to go through my pillow ;-). But I've always been fascinated by the dude in the black cloak, even back before I actually understood the underlying eroticism in those movies--the seduction of the heroine, the "marriage" symbolism, the blood lust. I was just fascinated by a creature that "looked" human.

Most of my childhood undead look scary--the Malaysian vampire is called the "pontianak," and it's always portrayed as a really oozy, ugly long-haired creature that screamed a lot. Then there was the Chinese vampire, the "kiong-si," which is GREEN, dressed in ugly Ching Dynasty costume, and they HOP. Hoppity-hoppity hop. I never understood exactly how they could get their victims when they hopped so slowly but I was too terrified of their green faces to think logically ;-). I remember also watching the old movie, Nosferatu, and had nightmares of that creature for weeks.

Then came Count Dracula. I snuck downstairs faithfully to turn on the TV for HIM. I always felt sorry for him in the end, even though he was such a bad man, going after pretty girls and sucking them dry. As I grew older, I began to get more of the symbolism (besides the religious ones) of forbidden sex and dangerous seduction. So vampires contributed to the deflowerment of my innocence, woohooo. Anyway, the movie would end around 1.30am and I really, really loathed having to WALK to the television set to click on the OFF button. Yes, my dears, those were the days before REMOTE ;-) and the shows were in BLACK and WHITE.

Look how much has changed since then. The Undead is now KEWL and the coolest of all is the vampire himself. And he's been changed from evil to "evil by myth-only coz he's a really, really misunderstood dude." And he gets a happy ending!

Part of it is that the writing of the genre has given the vampire HIS POV. As a reader, you become sympathetic to his psyche, his cause, and his "undeadness." Come on, everyone suddenly became existential after reading Anne Rice's Interview With A Vampire. We get to "see" what the blood means to him. We get to feel his loneliness. And we want him to have his "mate." So now Van Helsing is a total bastard for killing the vampire.

Total turnaround, huh? And that's the power of being a writer, and the key to being "original." Because there was a time turning the POV around to the vampires was so extraordinarily different. There was a time when making the vampire the HERO was an unheard of concept. And now, it's an accepted thing in our genre.

We're doing it more and more with the myth of the werewolves now, have you noticed? Do you have a squee line that you can't cross? I think shapeshifters might be it for me. I can accept the sex and the sexiness when they are in human form, but when they are half-and-half, like Hari in Marjorie Liu's Tiger Eye (excellent book!), when he was between the form of tiger and human and the heroine was naked with him, eeeeeeek. ;-) That one had a few of my friends and I discussing about cat's balls. Ew. LOL.

Of course, it's hard to explain the vampire fascination. To those who can't understand it, it all boils down to sleeping with a cold corpse that needs to feast on blood. it's ALL in the words and the Imagination, isn't it? After all, some really important people read Frey and REALLY THOUGHT THAT WAS REAL LIFE.

Who's your favorite vampire romance author these days?

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Uber Writer's and Uber Roofer's Update

Writing Update

Almost. Almost. Almost there. It's been a struggle and perhaps like my character, Hell, I'm being put through the ultimate test to see whether I have it in me to see it through the first phase/book.

I must admit, it's a challenge to write a book not being sure who my own hero will be. It's fun to be "blind" like my heroine because I get to put her with all the commandos in potentially sexy situations, but it's also frustrating and challenging because I have to have complete control of what the characters say or do so they don't all sound the same or talk like a Chinese fortune cookie with ambiguous promises ;-).

So far, I have Hell at lunch with Flyboy, in a spell with Armando, in a mission with Alex, bumping heads with Jed, and now in a tub naked with Heath. Heeheehee. I am in so much trouble with y'all for telling you this ;-).

Where was I...yeah, almost done. I love doing sexy scenes. The experience is intimate and comes from the soul, and as a writer, you can't be afraid when you write them. Once I get that done, I think I'll know who our hero is. There is no way he could escape me then.... As for Hell, it shouldn't be long for her to find out too.

But it's good to say I'm at the final stretch. Two key scenes and hopefully a big finale. Then I can celebrate a little.

Personal Shit Update

Went to see the doctor about my inability to move around due to whatever it is I have--the skin allergies, the muscle spasms, the bathroom problems, the overall general blah. It could be stress he said (Magic's illness and passing, trying to finish my manuscript at the same time, painting, plastering, selling a house, running a roofing company, and that new detergent...which means that the doctor doesn't know and I paid him $100 to tell me that he doesn't know, so who's the stupid person here?), and for the privilege of paying him for that consultation he gave me a prescription for Prednisone. Wonderful. Now I have steroids in my system and will be banned from baseball forever and ever. I could say Ranger Buddy snuck me a health drink ;-).

Roof Update

The crapenters from hell have now decided to test my patience by not nailing in the rafters. You have a nailgun; it's supposed to make life easier, right? Nooooo. It just means you nail faster and wherever. It doesn't mean you will actually pull a line on the roof where the rafters are and nail ON THIS LINE so the plywood is attached to the main structure of the building! Of course not. It would make life too easy.

So now they have to endure my yelling at them in three languages again. Then they have to go back up and repeat work they should have done already. After that, some young 'un has to climb all over the rafters from UNDER the roof to tap out all the previous nails that didn't get the rafters (they are called shiners). That will be his job for the next three days because there are thousands of them, and I can't wait to see him doing that. Then I can stand on top of the loose parts where he's at and jump up and down to let him I know I'm enjoying his punishment. Won't listen to the girl when she tells you to do it right, huh? You can't escape the uber-roofer and uber-writer on a rampage, son.

Nothing like yelling to release some stress, I tell you.

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AHA! Cowboy Spies!

A friend who knows my obsession with all things figure-skating sent me this video of some of my favorite boys on skates doing the cowboy Monty ;-). Okay, not exactly Full Monty, but man, is this video a niceeeeeeee Sunday morning pick-me-up! And I'm still lying under my table hitting the replay button over and over....

Actually I've seen this whole routine live a couple of years ago in Orlando but I've forgotten how fun it was ;-).

What lovely things in tight jeans...don't miss the part where they wiggle their butts. I love the final shot best. Num Num.

Someone please send me John Zimmerman (the long haired blond with the WHITE HAT in final shot) and Alexei Yagudin (that's the short haired blond) with nothing but their cowboy hats hanging (check out the end) for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and my Sunday happiness will be complete.

Video link:

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Uber Fantasy Lover

I have been running a contest from my website since SWTA came out. It's still open for the next month or so, and entries still trickle in. Anyway, the contest is just a simple question: Who do you want to sleep with? I didn't give any rules, just the fact that I get to pick the winning entry anyway I want.

The answers given by contestants have been quite revealing. Some readers have given the names of the heros in my books. The most popular one is...Rick Harden from Facing Fear ;-). Hmm, what is it with that dude, anyway? Must be that little sex toy in his drawer, LOL.

Jed McNeil is a close second. Everyone is intrigued by his badness too. And yes, there were a couple of entries who wanted both Jed and Rick in the same bed with them. I think those women have a lot of stamina ;-).

The most surprising answer, and from, as far as I know, a female contestant, is Marlena Maxwell. "She" finds Lena "sooooooo sexy and definitely wants to get on with her." I could take the entry three ways: 1) contestant is really sincere about her love for Lena 2) contestant is being tongue in cheek, or 3) contestant just wants my attention and maybe win the contest for such a unique answer.

Most revealing of all is the number of entries that state JAMES BOND as the answer:

"I would love to sleep with James Bond because he's the ultimate spy and would be so hot in bed."

"I've always wanted to sleep with James Bond, especially the Sean Connery looking one." (For some reason, I find that answer hilarious).

"James Bond! I love him! A ladies' man, yet so passionate when he finds a woman he wants and he always looks so good! And he's so cool and deadly. I love me a dangerous man."

"I would love to go "Oh, James," several times in the night with James Bond."

I did not expect so many James Bond fans among my readers. I certainly didn't realize that he could be spy-romance #1 fantasy dude ;-). I know, I know, I should have, being that James Bond is UBER-SPY, but for some reason, it just never crossed my mind. For me, James Bond is a male's ultimate spy-fantasy, with his gadgets and women, along with those ultra kewl snappy replies. I love watching James Bond, but was never turned on by him as a character (the actors--Connery and Brosnan--don't count, since fantasizing about the actor as character is an entirely different fantasy).

Then there are the replies that's more down-to-earth. One contestant just "wants to sleep with her husband." Her explanation was very romantic and sweet.

The funnier ones include the entry about wanting to sleep with her dog. fortunately (?), there was no elaboration of what exactly she meant! ;-) A woman wants to just sleep with herself. No details there either.

Movie stars: Brad Pitt is number one, followed by Colin Firth and Sean Connery. But names of movie stars are the smallest percentage in the answers given by the contestants. It seems romance readers want to sleep with fictional characters, not real live people, so there were plenty of great entries about what they would do with Steve McMillan, Hawk, even Cucumber from my books, as well as other great romance iconic names that are instantly recognizable--Rhett Butler, Wolf MacKenzie--to fans.

So, who do you want to sleep with? ;-)

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Spy Poisons Self

If it's not one thing, it's another. The stars must not be aligned right in my chart or something. Sorry to be a complaint wart. But you would not believe my next excuse for being distracted from my job.

For some reason, last week, my immune system had gone haywire. I had developed a mysterious allergy. Oh yes, how am I going to explain this to my agent? And she's coming to town. After a series of brilliant, but too late, deductions, I finally narrowed it down to the new detergent that I bought on sale. The spy turned into a sleuth, you see.

But the damage had been done. I had been having awful tension headaches the last couple of days. I had, at first, dismissed them as mere tension headaches. However, two days ago, I started feeling dizzy. And I felt weak and dry-mouthed. And lots of trips to the bathroom. So, so, odd.

Those were just the internal symptoms. At the risk of too much information...strange incredibly itchy bruises/blotches had developed around the collar and areas where my skin stayed "damp" from perspiration during hot work days. That was when I started getting suspicious. I thought I was getting the plague. My workers thought I must be having wild nights of passion because of these "hickeys."

If my explanation to them produced such dubious disbelieving expressions ("Yeah, IF you say so, Jenny, suuuure they're from some kind of allergy..."), how would that carry over to the rest of the sympathetic world? :-P I know, I know, you guys think I'm going nuts. How could detergent or allergy to it be causing nausea? Skin problems, yeah, I buy that, but a general "I'm not well" feeling? Sigh.

You think that's funny? Think about a laundry load of 100 t-shirts and 30 towels. Argghhhh.

You want to know something even funnier? At the moment, I'm writing about Hell's physical and emotional reaction after the serum has been in her system for a while. Talk about scary. Maybe I'm getting too close to my characters because I sure feel Hell's pain at the moment. This should make a good horror story, don't you think? Writer writes the story of a special drug and the deeper the story gets, the more the writer shows the symptoms.

Argghhh. I guess it's good Hell's not going to die....

OTOH, if I write about Hell and a threesome with Jed and Heath, then wouldn't I* get real hickeys from that encounter? ;-)

Life surely can't be this eventful for everyone else, can it? Scratch, scratch.

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Spy Among Yourselves

Thanks to Elaine from Singapore, here's a link to spying on the making of calendar for the French Rugby team. In the buff. Okay, with parts sort of covered up. They be so shy, them French boys. As Monty Python would say: "Lovely photography."

Check it out and DO NOT OPEN LINK WHILE AT WORK:

WARNING!!!VIDEO DIEUX DU STADE

Lovely, lovely, too young, lovely, meh, lovely, hmmm...okay, hmmm...gayish, lovely, lovely, meh, young, young, oohlala, num-num, lovely....

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Braindead Uber-Writers

MOOD TODAY:

I haven't done an update about my writing for a while. It's been tough, trying to write while Magic was ill, and now, with her gone, it seems to be even harder. The brain is tired--I think I used up all my emotions on Magic and now with the big scene coming up, I'm trying to find some happy brain cells for Hell and her lover.

If I were writing Book II, this would be a cinch because Book II is dark and painful and I certainly have tons of those cells wandering around in my system right now. But Book I is still Hell learning the ropes and discovering a whole new world within and without. It's action-oriented and of course, when she gets it on with her monitor, it's going to be emotionally-packed.

I feel kind of empty right now, and am trying very hard to write through this. Funny how one's emotional health can affect writing, huh? It's not that I'm not writing, but I keep deleting because it's not coming out right.

Anyway, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I have three more chapters planned and I keep telling myself that I need to finish this marathon before my editor screams at me. And then my agent will scream at me. And then...well, as you can see, I'm a bit squeezed right now. This is not adding the fact that they've brought in a second crew of crapenters at the day job so they can drive me more batty.

But the big scene is here and I'm happy. It took a LONG time to get here, it seems. I've never been this glad to get HERE ;-).

I don't want to make Magic an issue with my slooooowwwwww writing. That's not me. My uber-spies, as you know, like to say: "Just do your job." Besides, how lame to have to explain to a mad agent and an a madder editor that "my dog died, sorry homework not done." I have to work through this braindead emptiness.

P/S. Edited to add: I didn't want to start my day on such a morose note so here is something that perks me up instantly ;-):

Oh yeah babeeee, my boys are back in town for Spring Training!!!

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Uber Scary

So, you think writing about spy-murder and intrigue is scary...check out these photos from the Olympics Ice Dancing event last night that fall into the "What were they thinking" category.

It's good to know neon blue leopard print didn't die out from the eighties. It makes me want to wear it on the roof.

Here is a close-up:

Then we have Karate Kid holding up his lover. You'll notice that she'd sprinkled candy flakes all over her boobs to tempt him:


He's also thinking about karate-chopping her in half.
This Japanese dude wore his top backwards so we don't have to laugh at his chest. And the pink so goes with the bright yellow:

He looks like he's going to eat the flowers off her chest too. Hmm, I think there's a theme here....

This concoction is as scary as the position she's in. This is SUPPOSED to add points in the SeKret Markeeng System. Oh wow, she touched the blade of her skate, give her 10 extra points!
And the winner:

Check out the expression on her face. Hawaii puked all over her boobies.

:-)

Want to wear any of these for any of the coming ROMANTIC TIMES balls, girlfriends? ;-) Come on, triple-dog dare ya.

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Uber Zooooom

Most Sundays, I kick back and chill out, if I'm not on a roof. Today is not a good day to travel because there are crazy NASCAR fans making illegal U-turns and whatnots on the highway to the Speedway. Traffic jams a-plenty. No, thank you, not even for a roof.

It's a bit tough for me this morning too because Sundays, Magic and I hang out together on the lawn while we "watch" the brood run about in the Florida sunshine. Me, with coffee cup in hand, Magic lying beside me and barking orders even though she couldn't actually see what the others are doing. Fortunately, it's kind of dreary outside, or I would be even bluer.

It's these things that make the void bigger. I gave Magic her insulin shots at 10am and 10pm so it hadn't been easy around that time. I find myself jumping up from my puter to do it before I realize that I don't have to, anymore. Then, when I'm eating dinner, there's no Magic at my feet waiting for her one bite.

It's making me feel a bit sensitive and ready for a fight. Last night, my male friend was rude to me, and usually, I brush that off and forget about it. This morning, I find myself thinking about vengeance and hatred and fire and brimstones raining on his head. I am not me. And he probably won't remember exactly what he did to have made me this angry that I want to kill him.

An excellent day to stay home, don't you think? ;-)

Today is also the Daytona 500. This is my uber-race and here is my uber-race car driver, Boy Wonder. Many of the good old boys-fans hate him. He gets booed when he used to win a lot. He is considered too Hollywood.

Ya well, I love this dude. I love the way he drives. He hadn't been doing very well the last couple of years but that's because everyone's been catching up with him. Funny how people like him more now that he's losing more. Bah.

Personality-wise, Jeff isn't a Bad Boy type (my favorite, of course), but then I hate them NASCAR bad boys. Take, for example, Tony Stewart, Bad Boy With Big Mouth. I grit my teeth every time he won last year.

Jeff is sweet by comparison ;-). But don't let that demeanor fool ya. The man is a control demon in the machine. And he ages well. Any man that ages well gets the thumbs up in my Book of ShalLOWness ;-).

The secret in watching a car race is not watching television. You're right--the cars going round and round is the most boring show after GOLFING on TV. The secret is the AM Radio. Tune it to the racing station and work in the garden or clean or cook while listening to the race. It's exciting to hear all the things going on and the commentary between the drivers and their crew chief. You get to understand strategy and also have a different perspective of what racing is all about. There's actually STRATEGY. There's actually a game plan on fuel and tire changes. There's actually more to it than bump-drafting.

Talking about NASCAR, author Pamela Britton, a good friend, is in town for the races and booksignings. She's writing a couple of NASCAR-tied romance for Harlequin and has been featured in USAtoday as well as the local papers. She gets to shake Jeff's hand, dammit. That's all I care about, really ;-).

Actually, I could have done that too since I was to have dinner with her that night. But I couldn't leave Magic. I told Maria that I ought to yell at Magic for that, making me miss a close-up with sweetie Jeff Gordon, except that she's dead. Maria, a friend who works in a police department, told me I have cop humor, which tended to be rather dark. But Magic was female too, you know. She'd have understood my blaming her.

By the way, Pamela's book is out in the stores. I'm looking forward to reading it, even though the sexy stuff happens behind closed doors. I guess it's just not kewl to read about a Jeff Gordon-type being nekkid or something. ;-P

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Uberness--The Image and Self

In the end, uberness is judged by what you put out--your work, your presentation and how you sell yourself.

So ends my week as uber-fangrrrrr ;-). I hope you've been entertained by the way I managed to tie Michelle Kwan with my own life and writing, LOL. Poor Michelle is cringing somewhere in California.

Connected with the topic above, here are two links on which I would like your opinions.

The first one is a review and discussion of Gennita Low's Sleeping With The Agent from a blog by Bookseller Chick, a reader whom I randomly contacted from a list of bloggers to review my book when it first came out.

BOOKSELLER CHICK SWTA REVIEW

This second one is a link I found on

Bookseller Chick's site on a Book Ad that is being shown on television. I haven't seen it. Have you? This definitely fits into the category of the work, how it's presented, and how it sells itself. What are your thoughts? Would you buy this book?

Sex.Lies.Mirder.Fame promo

Would you be standing in line like those fans? ;-)

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Uber Spies Must Keep Their Focus

Continuing my weeklong scary-fangrr dedication to Michelle Kwan:

Focus.
Concentration.
Attention to details.

An uberauthor must have all three to succeed. An uberroofer too. Or the roof will leak, you know.

From watching Michelle Kwan, I learned to solidify these three elements that are the key to her success. If you can conquer your bad habits and daily stuff and make these three elements your daily repertoire, you are on the road to uberness.

Focus is probably the foundation of a writing career. If you have a husband, kids, another career, or most probably, all three at once, you know how easy it is to lose focus. Everything is about daily life. Writing gets shoved into the background.

Decide your goal and focus on it. It has to be big enough that it is a dream, a fantasy, yet small enough that you know it's attainable for now. If you focus on being a bestselling author and you haven't even written a book yet, that is way. Too. Big. Your focus should be finishing this first book.

I started by writing during lunch at the Shit and Grits diner. Two pages a day, minimum. That was the only time I really had to focus on my writing. My goal was to finish my first book, which was the very bad HisTerical Viking-medieval SEALs on horses story. The waitresses from those restaurants still remember me and my yellow notepads ;-), sitting there among my sweaty guys at lunch and writing, writing, writing. They thought I was crazy. A roofer who wants to write? Hahaha. But now they fondly tells the other customers about me eating there. I'm a legend. LOL.

Concentration comes naturally with focus. Many writers have too many plots in their heads; some writers want to write them all in one book. Even worse, some writers abandon their works after a few chapters and start another one, and another. They have a lot of writing done, but no concentration to finish the story. Uber-writers fight the urge to give up in throes of the "sagging middle" dilemma. They concentrate on what they've set out to do--to get the book to the end.

If the figure skater loses concentration, they go splat. Uber-writers do a balancing act of their own--deadlines vs quality vs daily life vs self-expression vs market requirements. They always tell you to write the story you want; do not let the market dictate you. Yet, how could you actually do that when those who do so are punished?

Because if you know you're a MK fan, you are punished by the judges. A LOT. The new market for her is the SeKret Marking rules, a new set of numbers that give points for tricks. Even falls are awarded points! So a program with two failed quads, a splat in the triple-triple, would still win over a perfectly good MK program without a quad or a triple-triple. You think this isn't happening? Check out last night's Men's Olympic Long Program. The guy that had two splats beat out Johnny Weir's conservative but relatively mistake-free free program, and JW is out of a medal. JW's skating style, btw, is lyrical like MK's.

So like Michelle, as an author, you have to do your thing and STILL somehow make it work in the market. That's when they say you put a fresh twist to the (trend of the moment).

Attention to details. Any chimp can use a nailgun. Any chimp can be trained to go bang, bang, six times on a shingle. You can ride around and see lots of roofs done by chimps (think of that commercial on TV with the chimps ;-P). The details tell trained eyes whether it's an uber-roof, a horrendous job, or just an adequate one.

You and I have read plenty of adequate books. If that is your goal, then that's fine. But you want to be the Michelle Kwan of the romance genre, give your stories and characters the extra details. MK finishes every of her elements--perfect landing (no flutzing), fingertips in the right positions, picture-perfect poses--all done on a thin blade. If you watch her life, you very seldom hear her blades on the ice--she floats; she makes it effortless.

An uberauthor makes her writing read effortlessly, giving and adding essential details that make her stories richer. Of course, there's such a thing as OVERKILL of details. Please don't make the reader go ZZzzzzzZZZzzz. That's a sin in writing!

My uber Spies, by the way, have tremendous focus, concentration and attention to details. And they use all of those talents in the bedroom scenes too ;-).

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A Magic Moment

One of a kind. We Kwanatics love to make up words for our Kween. The Kwandruple. Kwanderful. We all agree that the Kween Rached in Rachmaninoff, a program so superbly controlled and paced, many of us can spend hours looking at it on our DVDs and discussing it.

Yep, like our keeper books. I can discuss Wuthering Heights forever. I can reread Anne Stuart's old Harlequins over and over.

And Michelle Kwan's uber enough to be in a Simpson's cartoon show ;-). I kept trying to think of a romance character that would get instant recognition on The Simpsons. Scarlett O'Hara, perhaps? A more recent one? That's tougher. Can you come up with one? She/he has to be an icon, at least. Much as I love Zane McKenzie, nobody outside our romance world would really know him if he appears in The Simpsons.

So, where was I...uberness strives for perfection and that magic moment, whatever it is, brings us humans together, be it triumph or tragedy. The uber-author strives to put that in words, in paragraphs, in chapters--so much more difficult than the instant snapshots we can get now from our media. And in those paragraphs, somehow, there's a nugget of emotion that every reader will find universal.

Last night, after a rough day in which I made a tough decision for my Magic Girl, something happened that made me cry. Mind you, my Magic was not uber-perfect. She was the bitchiest dog and a mutant pom at 25 lbs during her heyday. She was alpha to the max and lifted up her leg when she peed. She beat up on her poor husband, Brando, who turned 16 this Christmas. Even when she became blind from diabetes, she ruled her world and would still be able to bully him and take all his snacks away. Brando, bless his little heart, solved this problem by eating FAST and IMMEDIATELY.

Last night, I was putting away Magic's stuff--her insulin and meds, her blanket, her "throne pillow" (no steeenkin' toys for the Queen), everything--and came to her bed. I started crying because Brando had laid out ALL his snacks from yesterday in that bed. He hadn't eaten one, and this from the dog that ate everything in sight.

Ah, Magic girl, Uber-perfect she was not. She was too uber-big for her previous owner--a mutant POM three times the normal size. She also had a nasty habit of looking for my feet and barfing on them. She snored.

But she was also the most protective of me and her brood. During thunderstorms and July 4th fireworks, everyone hid behind her 25 lbs of fiercemamalurv. And she was utterly undefeatable. She would run to me at full speed in spite of her blindness, trusting me not to have done so if there was a pole in the way. It was scary to know she trusted me that much. The vet had warned me that a dog with malfunctioning kidneys would be peeing and pooping all over herself because of loss of control. My Magic, in her last moments, got on her feet and went to the bathroom in the lawn. She turned to me and gave a little bark, as if to say, "See, Mom? I can still do this. I'm uber-dog." And she trusted me to make the right decision.

Ah Magic. I hope I did, my girl. Uber-dog, yes, but the quality of your life would have been too painful to watch. You were an original. And unforgettable. All of us at home miss you so very much this morning.

Love,

Mom

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Personal Dilemma

And how do you tell the world what goes on inside you?

I have a decision to make since yesterday. My furbabee, Magic, appears to be shutting down. Ya know, it would have been an easy decision to make if she hadn't been such a fighter in the past, miraculously coming back so many times from the brink. I feel as if I owe her some time to see if she could overcome this last episode.

It doesn't look like she will. I have been thinking about it all day yesterday and last night. It's 5 am and I'm still thinking. She lies at her usual spot at my feet, her life in my hands. Me-laptop-Magic, it's hard to break a habit.

That's Magic on the left, the female Shaq of Poms, and just as mean. In spite of all that's happening to her body, she still gets up and goes to the bathroom outside. It's incredible watching her. If she had lain there and couldn't do anything, I'd have made my decision already. But she hopped out of the car last night and was wagging her tail because she was home, as if all was right in the world.

It's an uber decision for me. It might be the hardest. And, unlike Michelle Kwan, I'm glad I don't have to sit in front of a million reporters to announce it. For one thing, I would not be that composed. I'm just not uber enough.

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The Quest For Uberness

With heart.

With grace.

With everything you got.


That's the stuff of myth. And that's what captures the imagination. Michelle Kwan's quest for that illusive gold isn't all about pain and tears. It's the determination and the weight of destiny on those young shoulders.

Everyone loves to live vicariously. That's why we watch the Olympics. That's why we love those come-back stories.

Every romance reader does that too. We live vicariously through our characters--experiencing their joys and fears, and yay, like a great Olympic win, the final big scene culminating with the happy ending.

The hero in writing is bigger than life. I like to use mythology because the stories are eons old and still resonate today.

For me, Michelle is like Sisyphus, forever rolling that big rock up the hill, only to watch it roll down again. Like Sisyphus, she has gifted (humans) me with fire and I admire her determination and feel part of her pain. She is a stranger, yet totally a part of me at the same time.

And that's the paradox of a great character. As a reader, I may never know what's it's like to be uber-spy or uber-lord of the manor, but the author has managed to make me understand his psyche. For don't we all have our own private quest and private pain? By using myth, the uber-author taps into our own psyche and make us part of the story.

Michelle's ability to transcend a sport with froufrou skirts into a mythic quest is the stuff of legends. Unfortunately, most legends have unhappy endings, bah.

Question: Anybody cares to tell me what the heck Jed's quest is? ;-) Or Diamond's? Heehee.

Funny (to me) comment overheard on another blog: "the fact Yoko Ono did not sing during the opening ceremony is a good sign that we might have world peace." Bwah!

Also must add: We must so ban velvet from men's figure skating costumes. So, so, painful to watch.

P/S Please send some healing vibes for my furbabee Magic. She's my little fighter and not doing so well this morning.

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The Distinctiveness of Uberness

Uberness: A Distinctive Signature Move

There are different distinctive signatures.

Uber divas, Madonna and Cher. You just think of bra cones and glittery overblown costumes. Uber-spy, James Bond. The way you say his name. Those women. That drink. Uber-author Linda Howard. Those Alpha heros that can go on and on. The MacKenzies series. Uber-roofer. LOL. Well. A certain old dude who threw down over 200 bundles of shingles stocked on the WRONG roof and carried them over to, and RESTOCKED, the correct roof all by himself.

Uberness has many copycats but you always know who began it all.

Michelle Kwan's signature move is the inside-outside edge spiral, termed by her fans as the Smiral because of her joyous smile whenever she does this. It's a deceptively simple move that everyone thinks just looks good and isn't as tough as, let's say, the move where you have your leg up against your ear and you show the world your beaver. So I'm too polite to name the skater that has made that* her signature move, LOL.

The inside-outside edge spiral is done on one skate across the length of the rink and the skater shows her control by gliding first on the inside edge, then outside, of her blade. Not easy. There are many copycats these days. Watch them wobble as they try to maintain speed. Watch them grit their teeth as they change edge and try not to topple over.

Control is so important in art and sports. You can be a jumping bean on the ice at a young age, but without control, the landing is cheated and both the art and sport of figureskating are lost. Granted, most regular watchers wouldn't know a cheated landing if they see one, but that's why I'm dedicating this week to Michelle Kwan. ;-)

Control in writing is also important. Imagine headhopping all over the place, causing confusion among readers as to who is talking to whom. Imagine a cheated ending, where everything just happens deux-ex-machina style. Imagine a spy who can't stand weapons and keeps it in a cookie jar. Oooooh. **heh**

In mastering control, the uber-writer then shows the art in her writing, her distinctiveness in voice and style. You have your favorite authors. Why do you like reading them? The stories are enjoyable, true, but there is something else, right? What is it about their "art" that you find so resonating?

Here is a recent article that sums up Michelle's career:

MKARTICLE

I thought it was fair and informative, although it reads too much like an obit. She hasn't retired yet, folks! ;) Also missing was the reason why she has stayed on top for so long--her combination of art and athleticism in her sport.

I would like to have a distinctive signature ;-). Besides, SEALs and commandos, I mean. "She writes great SEAL books" is not enough for me. That's like saying "She can do triple-triples!" Yeah, but for how long? I want a smiral of my own.

What is your distintive signature?

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Uberness and Pain

"We will tell the sun
In his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold...

when we walked in fields of gold..."



Ah, my Michelle.





Well, Olympic fun just went out the door ;-/. I was soooo looking forward to seeing my girl in her final quest for the gold. I had told my friend that she ran the risk of injuring herself somewhere else because one tended to favor different parts of the body while rehabitating, but that if she could avoid that, she would do great, even with the new system of SeKret MarKeeng.

This comes from my own uber-roofing injuries experiences, which had been extreme in the past. Never had a groin injury, though, thank God. Last year, I had that wrist problem which still lingers, partly because I have to swing the nailgun during the day and believe it or not, use the keyboard at night. Different tasks but both requiring the wrist. Binding it with support bandaid helps, but the injury is still there. And you can't really rest it because of workload. I started typing with my right elbow in an awkward position and had sore arm muscles for a week after that. Then I decided to stand up while typing. An injury, no matter how small, can really diminish one's abilities.

I want to dedicate this week's posts to my favorite athlete, Michelle Kwan. Soppy as hell, yes, but it's from her that I've learned many key emotions that are the salt and pepper that make the characters in my book more real--the highs and lows of BIG experiences.

Today's painful lesson: Giving up the dream.

The point in a story when a character gives up his ultimate dream is charged with darkness and light. I write about uber-spies. There are plenty of things/dreams they have to give up as normal people.

There has to be consequences in giving up one's identity. There has to be loss in giving up the things that make one "human" in the ordinary world. It is up to the uber-author to identify her characters' secret dream and weigh how that particular nugget is lost/hidden inside them.

Take Alex Diamond, for instance. He lost a very important dream when his wife was killed. When exactly, though, did he give up? And will that bring light or darkness?

On the opposite end of the spectrum stands Rick Harden, who NEVER gave up. His search for his dead wife went on for years, and he never quite believed in her death even though he tells himself and others that she was dead. The uber-author's task, then, is to question how that had motivated or affected Rick's life.

Different circumstances for both male characters, of course. And certainly, a totally different circumstance for the real life painful decision that came from my girl, Michelle, today. Rest, uber-athlete, there is another goal on which to focus--the 10th National Championship ;-).

As the writer, you have defined the pain of loss. As a romance author, the fun is bringing back the light. The next chapter awaits.

And oh, thank goodness I didn't follow my decision to buy tickets for Torino next week! You would have heard my uber-scream of dismay all the way from Italy.

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Uber Butt and Uber Waistline

To Reese:

Thank you for posting about the human trafficking theme on your blog. I've grown up being aware of this problem and had never had a chance to bring it out into public awareness. The issue is now even on TV more and not just headline news. Even Patti O'Shea is blogging about it and I know she doesn't watch much TV ;-) so somehow the universe is listening to my prayers about more awareness. And that is why ROMANCE BOOKS is more than just love and googooga romance, folks!

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Today is the opening of the Winter Olympics. Yeeha. One of my favorite sports will be playing out its usual drama--figure skating, of course. I'm only watching it because my Michelle Kwan is there. If she hadn't been given the bye, NBC could have waved goodbye to my interest. I like the other sports too but they don't grip me me like MK's skating. And yeah, I'm an awful fangrrrrrrrl where she's concerned, LOL. I could gush about her figure skating and program for hours.

One thing I'm not and that's an uber-athlete. But there are things that link all uberness together and that is the willingness to sacrifice the body for the quest for perfection. The uber-athlete would live for the moment (a few years...), putting their physical bodies through pain to break it and build it again, so he/she would be the best in their field. The uber-author would be willing to sacrifice his/her potentially gorgeous butt and waistline by sitting for hours eating chocolate and drinking coffee/coke so he/she could write the masterpiece. Heh, heh, heh.

But we are united in our mental strength, in spite of our health differences. LOL. We love what we do or we wouldn't do it. We WANT that moment--be it Olympic or USA Today Bestseller glory--and once we start on our path, we try, again and again, to reach our goal. Some might even cheat to get there (aka as doping and plagiarism, LOL, and get away with it, **coughcough Barry Bonds cough**cough a famous author with the initials of J D coughcough**).

My path to start writing again started quite simply. It was 1998. It was damn hot--about 120 degrees on the roof. I was swinging a hammer and suffering from a mild case of sun-madness, meaning, I just had an awful morning screaming at crapenters in three languages, one of which was colorful enough to make the United Nations. And some stupid country song was on radio by...hmm was it the song by Lori somebody...oh about the uselessness of cheating men and life or something very deep like that. And I remember thinking..."Man, this SUCKS." LOL. "My brain is dying and these stupid men are killing me with their idiocy."

I told you, it was one of those mornings.

That evening, I helped my old neighbor cleaned her closet out and she had these old Harlequin Presents. I used to read them way back when. And I told my other neighbor that I had actually written a pseudo manuscript when I was fourteen and sent it to Mills and Boons (Harlequins in Britain) and they had written back and asked for more. Of course she didn't believe me (true story about that ms except you know--I was fourteen and sure didn't know that I had to finish a story! She then challenged me to write a book.

Aha. The birth of uber-author. A challenge, eh? Did I still have the mojo to sit down and write? Could I even string a few sentences without any references to stupid crapenters? And most important of all--could I finish the story?

I'm happy to report that I did and I could!

And that was my first step to sacrificing my butt and waistline. Oh, the trail of chocolate wrappers through the years....

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Too Many Damn Spies Out There!

Warning: Early morning musings about craft below. Written without the benefit of coffee (still brewing). No intentions of attack on any genre intended, no matter how in-between the spaces you're trying to read.

******************************
There used to be too many damn virgins out there in romance-land ;-). Now I find there are too many vampires who need a lifemate, poor things....

Things I keep hearing in the writers' market front:

1) HOT is hot, hot, hot. Write HOTTER. Hotter, hotter, hotter sells.

If you keep up with such things, you're seeing that many established publishers (including my old pub, Avon) are starting new erotic lines because of the success of erotica e-publishers. Many erotica e-authors have signed on with publishers for mass market books. Erotica for women is a legitimate romance genre now. Think Emma Holly, Mary Janice Davidson, Jaid Black, Angela Knight--all wonderful authors who rev up the HOT factor, although, of the four, only Emma is still writing "true" erotica that includes menage trois and more than a little bit of BDSM.

Hey, even the Harlequin Presents is coming out with Harlequin Uncut!

Question to readers: Do you read women's erotica? Would you like even hotter lines? Is it still going to remain a "niche" market genre, like, say, African American romance?

I don't read much women's erotica. I've tried them--some were great reads and some were obviously just knitted-together-sex scenes--but don't still don't really set out to buy them like the way I do with other genres.

Is it because most of them are e-pubbed and not on bookshelves, so I couldn't pull them out and put them in my shopping cart? No, I order the bulk of my books online.

Take Laurell K. Hamilton's Anita Blake and Merry Gentry series, for example. I loved the former before it changed from erotic-horror to erotica-horror. There IS a difference. Erotic-horror is about the forbidden fantasy, and in this case, that of sleeping with a vampire or a werewolve. Erotica-horror is what the Anita Blake books have become after the tenth or eleventh book, the one when Anita became...umm...uber-slut. LOL. Sorry, but I HAD to use that word for my once tough-as-nails Anita.

I found myself still loving LKH's writing but just simply turned off by the content. I couldn't handle all the sex! Everything and everyone is offered as some sort of sexual delight in the newer books and I knew I was in trouble when I skipped fifty pages of ONE gooooshy sex scene to get to read what happened next ;-P.

Does this photo link below bother you? Because it is explicit, I thought about photoshopping it and posting it here but it would lose its impact if I draw a little leaf over the obvious big part ;-). There is a certain eroticism in this picture. Would love to hear your thoughts. WARNING! DO NOT OPEN AT WORK! :

WARNING!!! EXPLICIT EROTIC PIC

2) Paranormal is HOT. Write about any hybrids of vampire, werewolf, alternate-world with beings, and you've got interested editors (and readers).

Now, I LOVE paranormals. I LOVE alternate-world/reality settings (from the scifi Dune series to the sexy Dara Joy Matrix series to the LKH horror settings to J.D. Robb's futuristic In Death series). Most of my buys are of this genre. There's something about the combination of knights and uber-epics set in space that gets my imagination juices flowing.

But let's face it, everywhere you turn, there's another vampire/werewolve hybrid romance book out. No end in sight either because I've just been hooked on the J.R. Ward urban hiphop vampire series.

I'm getting a little bit tired of them, though. Just an itsy-bit. There are too many of them to choose from. Are you feeling as overwhelmed as I am? I have reading buddies who are totally at a loss about what to read because they don't like vampires/werewolves stuff and read a lot of Regency historicals and the latter is a dying genre (or dead...not sure...since I think the last line just closed). They tell me they aren't happy with so many of these paranormal books in the market. I guess you can call it envy in a way because they aren't getting more of what they love to read.

Like anything, too much of it could be a bad thing. I remember when I first started reading romantic suspense written by our women authors, I thought they were the best thing since M&Ms, but boy, after glomming on them for months (and the genre became UBERHOT), was I tired of another "serial killer coming after the heroine" story.

Of course, I hear the calls of TOO MANY DAMN SEAL/operative stories out there too. Is there such a thing? Horrors! ;-)

My dream (and this is for Reese Witherfork): a SEAL vampire (boy would HELL WEEK be a problem)...okay, maybe a SEAL werewolf, heh...in an alternate reality urban fantasy...with...with zombies. A punk female zombie-slayer as a partner! Yeah, that would work.

What do you read most? What are you tired of?

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Uber Spies Who Actually Spy!

Someone emailed me and told me that I really shouldn't concentrate on the human trafficking theme any more, that my last three books were a downer, that I must be running out of ideas because I've used the same idea for three books and that my heroines are all rape victims. The email continued with quite a bit of analysis, ending with an admonishment that I should make my romances happy.

Ooops. Girl, spies spy and they don't play nice. Just saying.

I'm trying very hard to write a nice reply back without sounding condescending ;-). There's a reason why the last three books had the same human trafficking theme, you know. It's a TRILOGY. That means, there are tying themes and story-arcs that flow from the first book to the last. It just happened to be 1)human trafficking in different forms in different countries, 2)three different victims and not all are the heroines, and 3)well, okay, so I snuck in a bomb trigger device for the SEALs to be macho with.

As for my heroines being just victims...whoa...now that puzzled me.

Vivi, in book one, could have been a victim but she took charge. Her best friend didn't make it. Rose's father is part of the problem in Asia today.

Amber, in book two, was NEVER a victim. Sheesh. The idea in this book is to show how traffickers work in Europe and how the victims are transported.

Lily, in book three, shows evil comes in many twists. Sure she's a victim, but heck, she's the only one in the three books who is and she dealt with her demons her own way. This is the story of ONE victim, and the human trafficking factor is in the background.

So there, that's my explanation. I'm sorry the theme is a downer. It's tough not to write about terrorists and evil dudes when you're writing about spies and military macho men. And it's not as if these people's lives weren't filled with moments of humor. You don't think tying a note on Hawk's dick funny? Oh well.
Okay, enough prickles showing ;-). I wanted to balance my stream-of-consciousness blogging of the Super Bowl this weekend with some serious writing-craft stuff. Got to act authorly, ya know.

My work-in-progress has no human trafficking in Book One, at least not as of now ;-). It's about a Super Spy who's in a government experiment using CIA drug programming and virtual reality. And I've upped the technical quotient because I didn't want to sound woo-woo about my heroine going into a virtual reality environment and HEY SUDDENLY she can see and do stuff! I wanted to explain how immersive virtual reality in its most sophisticated version is being used today. The only difference is that I'm using it for spying.

Well, at least I can take comfort that this reader didn't complain that my super spy wasn't a virgin.

Question: In your rules, reader, is the heroine allowed to kiss more than one man in the book? Because Hell wants to kiss a couple of commandos to see whether she could figure out which one of them is her monitor-in-virtual reality. ;-) Or is that going to bend your nose out of joint?

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Super Bowl Spying

Superbowl spying is fun. It's all the secret things an uberspy would see while normal people think a game is actually on.

Meaning...this is just a continuous musing as the night goes by and the TV stays on while I try to write....And as I don't do football, don't expect any real commentary about the game itself, 'kay? Also, I'll BE WRITING, so something might pop out that has nothing to do with football and commercials.

6.15pm
Excuse me, but is that the lamest rendition of the national anthem, or what? I could barely make out what the first guy was singing and Aretha must be nursing a sore throat. And I think the piano guy was playing with his toes. Pling-pling-pling. Maybe it's because it's 35 degrees outside. My voice would probably sound like that too if I had to sing without a coat.

WRITING commentary
I had to decide whether Hell could kill in cold blood today. I spent too much time mulling about it.

6.30pm
The first commercials. The first one was by Budweiser, of course. People fighting each other. Meh. The second one was a cheesy Burger King commercial ;-). I didn't get it till the end, when the ladies all jumped on the bun and became a hamburger. Okay, that was kinda funny. That lady with the hamburger spread her legs. Geddit? Pfffffft. Have it your way indeedy.

Football commentary.
Hey, it's still early, so my attention span is still spanning. I know there's a player with funky hairdo that trails after him as he runs. He has a funky name too. And everybody is afraid of him cos he jumps on them a lot. What color uniform is he in?

6.40pm
Ugh, is THAT Bruce Willis with bad hair? And a horrid mustache? So not going to see that movie. Sorry, Bruce. Stay bald.

Oh, oh, GREAT FEDEX commercial! Loved the prehistoric man kicking baby dinasaur out of the way and getting stomped on by momma dinasaur.

Football commentary
It's now second down something, who knows? And in between boring plays they have these heads of players popping up introducing themselves. You know what? Football players' faces are the same width as their necks. Scary.

I still haven't spotten wild-haired man yet. Maybe he's not in the game yet. Blue people are happy cos they got the ball and their guy actually managed to run...oh...five steps or so.

6.50pm
Man, this game is slow. Is that BOBBY BROWN in a Diet Pepsi commercial?! Since when did he become a hot marketing tool? I must be behind again.

Football commentary
Oh, oh, I see the wild-haired dude! He's yellow. Oh, the blue men group just got a touchdown. Oh wait, something went wrong and it was waved off. What's a little PUSHING when you're jumping on top of each other, for gad's sakes?! Oh well. I'm for the yellow, right? So that's good. Wave it off, I say!

Oh, I just heard: "perfect indoor condition." Strike earlier remarks about singing in the cold. The singers had NO EXCUSE.

7pm
HAHAHA, the first Budlight commercial I like--the one with the husbands climbing on the roofs, of course! Fixing a leak in the roof...snort.

WRITING commentary
Another problem writing this action scene. Does having the serum in her make her any different as a kick-ass heroine? And would that affect her decision whether to kill in cold blood?

BACK to football
I see the blue men group scored 3 already. Must have missed that while I was counting my toes. Okay, what happened there? Did that blue guy run backwards toward his own endzone? You know, this game would make more sense if the men were all naked. At least then I'd know why they keep going after the guy with the biggest ball. Tackling would be so much fun to watch!

Oh, so you can push a guy out of the field but you can't push a guy in the endzone? Strange.

Oh no, my yellow bees lost their ball to a blue dude. I never pick the winning team. Wow, that blue guy's shoulders are so wide it fit his entire last name: Rothlisberger in capital letters. I bet it's a pain to massage his back.

7.25pm

The commercials are not doing it for me this year, how about you? The new car (can't even remember name now) with supermodels rising out of water? What, Venuses rising? The newest fashion statement? What? Shaq watching Desperate Housewives? AND making a free throw? A fantasy, right? Nothing with bite yet, nothing with a good line.

It's ROTHLISBERGER

say it fast three times. Then massage massive back, Mr. TV commentator.

Football commentary

That referee is a retired fireman. So what? I guess the commentator is as bored as I am because the yellow guys can't keep the ball in their hands! Where's the wild-haired dude? Did I jinx him? He was like a monster when I watched him demolish Denver. Oh wow, give Rothlisperberger time to grow his name and he could actually throw the ball beautifully. Yay for yellow jerseys.

Oh wow, Rothslisperoberger scored a touch-down! Nah, he wasn't across the line. That's not counted right? They're saying it's a tough call. He moved the ball over the line after he went down. Oh well, doesn't matter. It's YELLOW. So good ex-fireman-now-turn-super-referee makes the right call.

7.40pm

Check it out, Overstock.com only sells RED stuff. Yawn. Overstock your house, go on.

Oh, I gedddddddit now. BROWN and BUBBLY, describing the beer. Eww. Brown makes me think of piss. Ewww. I guess they couldn't find a famous person named GOLD.

FOOTBALL commentary

The first half just ended and I don't know what happened. Just that the blue guys "overthought." What, were they trying to write a spy romance too? So I guess it's time to go check the steaks or something, right? Or call for pizza. Or wait for an exposed boob. Comeon, you're trailing by four points bluemanchoo, you have another THREE hours to play, right? Right????

Ummm, why is the very dead Robert Palmer singing about being addicted to LOST? He's dead. Or presumed dead, like the cast of LOST.

HALFTIME SHOW

Do you know that Rolling Stones tickets for Tampa (the first sixteen rows) are going for almost $1000 each? Just wanted you to know.

Damn, you can forget about seeing any exposed boobs this year. I always wonder--those flashing cameras from the nosebleed seats??? Do their pictures even show anything other than what looks like a bunch of ants on what looks like a stage?

I bet if you put Mick and Keith side by side, they still wouldn't be as wide as Rotherlisperobergen's massive shoulders.

I would like to see Mick in Dancing With The Stars. I bet he could do a mean salsa. I can so see him licking his female partner with his tongue while they tango.

You know, I've been to a Rolling Stone concert before. Years ago, during their first retirement-ahem-goodbye tour. In Turin, Italy. Five American dollars. No joke. And they sang the same songs. And I got to lie around with nekkid Italian young men. It was very HOT that year in Europe! They sprayed all of us with hoses, it was so hot. I fainted anyway...into the arms of this gorgeous Italian man. His last name was Gagliano. Ah well...memories....

SECOND HALF (and glancing back up from writing my scene)

Watching Mick must have made my Yellow Boys very competitive. Walker came out and ran many many yards (74?) for a touchdown. Even my poms are excited now.

Did I hear six foot seven? Holy cow. Are these guys vampires? I mean, all vampires these days are at least six foot four and taller. i don't see any football jerseys named Phyry and Wrath. Oh wait...Wrathlisperobergen!

8.40pm

Oh my God! Fabio ad for Nationwide wins hands down! It was a fake shampoo commercial with Fabio tossing that mane around. He was on a gondola with a lovely maid. They went under the bridge, the music rose to a climax, the girl turned to smile mesmerically and there was a wrinkled old man stood there smacking his fingers. Very good, Nationwide! And kudos to Fabio for actually having a sense of humor

Okay, second half commercials are definitely better. The Hummer Little Monster is cute..

FOOTBALL COMMENTARY

Hmm...man-to-man on the outside...doesn't that sound so Brokeback Mountain? "Here comes a big...BIG...play," says the commentator. Heh. Again, it would have been better if they were nekkid.

HEY! Blue Man Group just stole the ball! It's called an INTERCEPTION, Jenn. And why is it called a Down when no one is down? And why is it called a Touchdown when it's actually about catching? Nonetheless, it's time for the yellow men to start pushing and jumping on top of the blue men more, dammit.

9.05

I glanced up because I heard two helmets clashing. What happened? How come Blueguys didn't score after running away with that interception? You know, I have a huge widescreen TV, HDTV, sensurround sound, the envy of the neighborhood. This game is going to waste on me, isn't it? ;-)

Check out the butt on blue guy quarterback--that's what you call the guy, right? Quarterback. His name is long too. Hasslebeckum. The commentator keeps talking about bootlegs. I don't see any boots on their legs. anyway, check out the boot of Hasslebeckum.

I'm winding down...yawwwwn. And they have another quarter to go. Excuse me while I munch on a bag of Pepperidge Farm cookies. Brussels are the best.

Okay, what's the difference betwen a tackle, a sack, a bootleg, and a smash-your-face-to-the-ground? They keep showing Hasselbeckumus a lot in this half. His shoulders must be growing.

9.40pm

Cool, the McGiver commercial was a cute blast from the past. I always liked that show. He was my inspiration during the three hurricanes while I tried to finish my novel, you know. I had no electricity and my book was due. So I dragged an extension cord from my laptop to my truck for power. Had to open my garage a foot or two so I can turn on the truck to rejuice the battery every seven hours. Call me McGiverLow!

Call him Hasselbeckumistake. He just let the ball out of his hands. Okay, they are asking us to vote for Superbowl MVP. I only know two names. Roethlistoperobergerno and Hasselibeckumistake. Is it safe to say my yellow dudes are going to be champs? Or is there another hour left to this game? My furbabee, Magic, is snoring, by the way. Tell me, are the players with headphones all listening to their Nanos? Even my fish in the tank are yawning now.

Okay, I see my boys are celebrating a bit now. Confident bastards. ;-) Now we get the obligatory close-ups of sad blue men. All of them are jealous of Roethethlithberthgerth's massive shoulders. Roesthethlithberthgerth the Pittsburger. Fittthing.

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

Sheesh, an uber writer can't even procrastinate in peace here. AWRIGHT DEE, Hell can't kill in cold-blood. Satisfied? ;-) Now back to not watching the Super Bowl....

They just announced 60 seconds to go. The Blue Man Group has no hope of catching up. Hasselbeckumistyeyed just missed his man because he's crying. Incomplete and fourth down...it sounds very bad, like a romance hero who didn't quite succeed in seducing his heroine. Poor thing. And I guess staying inbounds is bad because for some reason that means the clock continues to run. Who knows why? But it's good! It ended exactly at 10pm. Like it's been fixed. Hmmmm.

I must have missed the big Gatorade Coach Bath while I was in the kitchen looking for more cookies. You know, I just realize I rooted for the winning team! Wow, that's a first. Yellow Kids win! And check out those massive growing shoulders of Roethlithbergermeister one last time. And no, no post-game show for me. After all, I think I did a pretty good job giving an analysis, didn't I? Some guy with a long name threw a lot, there was an interception that went nowhere, then some bootlegging going on, and a push that takes away a touchdown, and wild-haired man wasn't to be seen anywhere much, and a big dinasaur stomped on the bluemangroup defense with one giant foot, then one other interception and one long run from one end to the other, and in the end blue men group was "thinking too much" and wasted lots of chances. Yes, hire me, ABC! I'll be uber-commentator.

My ending mood:

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An Uber Author's Ladder of Imagination

I hate it when Blogger is down. It's funny how dependent I am on it for entertainment. It's a great tool for procrastination too, no doubt about it. I can write and write here instead of stare at the blank page of WORD, trying to figure out where Muse is at the moment.

Just so you know, I have another packet of Chinese brew simmering in the pot. It's getting to the point that I can taste it by just thinking about it boiling on the stove. Just like my novel-in-progress right now. It's making my tummy churn because I'm thinking too hard about it. Muse isn't helping this time. I think I left him in New York and he's still sleeping on that wonderful Memory foam bed in that store.

Have you ever climbed up a ladder that goes a long way up and midway, you realized you didn't quite have the roll of thiry-pound felt paper properly positioned and you're going to be in deep do-do any moment now? No? LOL. Well, that's how I'm feeling these days. I did not have the weight of my roll of paper properly balanced on my tiny shoulder and now it's too late for that because I'm on rung #20 of a 40-rung ladder. Can't go down. A struggle to go up.

Dropping it isn't an option. Dropping it means BIG BIG TROUBLE. So I'm struggling on. And obstinately downing that fantastic Chinese brew that's going to make me uber-sexy and uber-healthy.

This is part of the writing process. I call it Da Wall. Climb it when it shows up. I'm just not used to it being so high. It gets more challenging everyday as my newly asked-for deadline looms closer. Will I ever see the end of Book One?

Every book has a challenge for me. This one is simple to diagnose because like the Chinese brew, I did it to myself. I had decided to write a three-book arc, with the first book concentrating on the heroine's POV. I knew it would be very, very hard for me because I don't like leaving out the hero's POV (there are some, don't worry, just not as many). It's essential because Hell doesn't know her monitor/trainer in Book One, so everything is through her eyes.

Well, guess what? I'm just not used to concentrating on my heroine for long periods! For writers, it means a complete mind-boggling focus on the motivation of one character for chapters on end and to make it harder, I hadn't created an exactly angsty heroine so she doesn't have baggage for me to dissect. Her monitor, on the other hand, is temptingly dark, full of secrets, and wagging his finger temptingly at me every time I look in his direction. Imagine saying no to one of my own COS commandos.

Now you know why I make myself drink that brew. Either that or get drunk. The second option will not get the book finished. ;-)

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Dangerous Brew

I have ten packets left of those Chinese medicine herbs to brew. I will admit it in writing right now. I, Gennita Low, am a glutton for punishment. I knew the stuff would taste like the boiled sole of a shoe worn by a hobo. I knew it would smell like that too. But I did it anyway. And I drank down every drop of the black potion. My mother would be proud.

Five packets of brew later...I'm definitely not super-writer yet. LOL. On the other hand, I do feel a lot more energetic when I'm roofing. Of course, the weather has been fantastic--mild 70s--so it might not even be the stuff.

When I was a kid, my mother would boil all kinds of medicine stuff for us to take and I was the only one who would finish whatever it was. It would taste BAD but I would do it, just because no one else could. Every one of my siblings gagged and made faces and cried, but I would gulp it down quickly and run off before anyone could see on my face how awful that tasted, LOL. I was very good at challenges like that. And I was big sister. I had to show off that big sisters aren't afraid of anything. Sea horses and insects boiled in bitter black dried prune and dragon powder? Bring it on!

That was just sibling superiority complex. But I'm alone now, with six poms who aren't that easily impressed. So why do I still do stuff like that? Just to show myself that I still have the balls to drink that stuff, I guess.

Let me tell you, it ain't easy finishing a bowl any more. for one thing, my stomach isn't as strong as it used to be ;-). I used to be able to gulp it all down quickly and walk away with a cool Clint Eastwood squint of my eyes. Now it's more like two gulps--ugh, oh yeah, I love this--gulp, gulp--shudder, gasp, lots of face making--and then a final few gulps--"oh yeah, my chi feels SO DARN MUCH BETTAH!" I probably don't have that Clint glint in my watery eyes either.

But I've asked for this medicine and I will drink ALL of it. And who knows? When I'm done with them, I might feel so strong I'd actually start jogging again. Ugh. Did I say that? No, no, no. No jogging. That was the medicine speaking. Horrors...what is it doing to me!?

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