Post #2: The Real McDreamy

I just found out that my future husband, George Clooney, has been confirmed to play the first Dr. McDreamy Doug Ross again for ER's finale.

ER used to be my Thursday night staple in the mid-nineties and wicked Dr. Ross and his sexy smile was the epitome of all those Mills and Boons hospital romances that I grew up reading. I'm so looking forward to catch him in scrubs again! He'll look a bit grayer, but heck, I think he's even prettier now. Check these out:

Hmm...John Stamos, who is on the show now, kinda look like the young Clooney, doesn't he?

Thursday nights on NBC in the 80s and early 90s. Cosby, Seinfeld. L.A. Law, ER. Do you remember the great Thursday night shows during NBC's heyday? Good times.

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Fabo Clooney

Do you remember when I posted about Fabio's and MY George Clooney's almost-catfight at a restaurant? George thought Fabio's fans were taking photos of him and his girlfriend and he made some rude noises which prompted Fabio to call MY George a diva and threatened to bash MY George's face in.

George Clooney, during an interview recently, had laughingly admitted that yeah, Fabio, being so Big and Tall, could have hurt him: "There is a moment when you are actually in the argument and you're thinking, 'If I do get beaten down by Fabio, that will be far worse than the pain. I wouldn't shake that.'"
You have to read this ARTICLE. It shows off MY GEORGE's great sense of humor. Don't you just love him?

Victoria Dahl, who writes sexy historical romances (check out her book covers), gave me permission to post her version of the Clooney-Fabio fight. As you can see, Victoria has mad Photoshop skillz.



Thanks, Victoria! This calls for a LOLFabio-Clooney caption.

I CAN HAZ CLOONEY'S ASS!

Now I'd love to see that on a romance cover. Maybe with George wrapped around Fabio's leg. Bwahahaha.

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OSCARS 2008 Liveblogging

NOTE: THIS IS THE SECOND POST FOR TODAY. FOR YOUR DAILY GENNITA FIX, LOOK BELOW THIS POST.

What to do, what to do, my beloved NASCAR race is on in California, so of course it's running the same time with OSCARS. It's only 20 laps in and there's a red flag intermission, so I'm anticipating a long night ahead for my boys there. Watching the OSCARS with the roar of NASCAR in the background...

Welcome to the NOSCARS event, bwahaha. I'm also anticipating the tipsier I get (I always watch the OSCARS with wine), the more confused I'm going to be with the channels and events. So, if it so happens that I'm screaming that Jeff Gordon is the winner of an OSCAR, and he's in the lead right now, you know I mean, he's actually a winner of the other event, the NASCAR race. And if I say George Clooney crashed, you'll know I'm mixing it up again.

Got it?

Of course, a NOSCAR event would be quite fun to watch, don't you think? The actors would arrive wearing skintight fire suits and helmets. They would step out of limousines that are plastered with logos of their favorite perfumes and fashion brands. Then the red carpet would have tire burns all over it. If Viggo wins the NOSCAR, he'd be required to do a backward flip, or climb a fence, or drive around the red carpet with the brakes on. If little Earnhardt wins, I want him to start sobbing like the momma's boy he really is (hahaha, you can't stop my little E sneers, racefans), or he can hug MY JEFF GORDON, sobbing and thanking him over and over for bringing him into THE WINNING TEAM.

You see? I'm stoked for the OSCARS and I haven't even opened the bottle of wine yet. If you hang around, your comments throughout the ordeal would be appreciated. Don't let my wittery stop you from yours.

See ya in a few minutes....

You know, NASCAR fans are so patient. I don't think many OSCAR fans would wait over an hour in between stop and start because of accidents or rain. Of course, you can't get too drunk at the OSCARs.

OTOH, wouldn't it be fun if Regis were drunk as a skunk while interviewing the actors on the red carpet? And he's with MY GEORGE RIGHT NOW. Oh, MY GEORGE, he is so beautiful, with his nicely greyed hair, now. I love you, George, even though you're with that silverfish beside you. You need to stop that; silver doesn't become you. And you'll look good in a fire suit, in my Lexus and me...never mind...but you can drive my car and shift my gear.

Goodness, was that John Travolta or a monkey? What is it with the Balls of Fury plasterhair?????! John Revolta.

Do you know they are going around that racecar at 182mph a lap? And those drivers talk back and forth with their crew chiefs while they're inches from the car ahead? Let's see them actors making OSCAR thank you speeches with that speed. I'm sure they'd flub their lines.

Ha, and Tony Stewart has fallen back. No, not Jon Stewart, dudes. I'd like Tony Stewart presenting. He would be rude, stupid and funny. And if his favorite dude didn't win, he'd sideswipe him.

Damn, damn, damn, it's raining in California AGAIN. Yellow flag. My poor Jeff can't run away with the race.

How come it's not raining over there at Regis? I'd like to see a big tumble of rain come down on all those lovely gowns and tuxes. Then they'd all need some chassis adjustment and four tire changes in 12.1 seconds.

Not Helen Mirren, of course. She's the Queen. Someone would bring her an umbrella. What a lovely dress she has on, btw. I bet she'd never had a smear of motor oil on her.

Ha, and there's Penelope Cruz. Bet she doesn't know that Tom Cruise is at the races. That's right, he's reliving Days of Thunder.

Yawn. Time for my drink break. No, folks, in case you're wondering what the heck you're reading, the OSCARs haven't started yet, but the NOSCARs have. It's yellow flag, which means caution, which means Regis is boring me to death interviewing unimportant mortals.

Cute guy comparison. Come on. Kasey Kahne vs John Revolta. Mark Martin vs Regis. Oh, awright, there is NO ONE who can compare with my GEORGE CLOONEY (sorry, darling Jeff...maybe in a few years...you're getting there).

And here is Jon Stewart racing on stage. He's explaining the wreck that was left by the crash of the Writers' Strike. You see, the writers are like the race drivers of the film industry. No writers, no racesshow.

Jon is talking about amazing performances. You know, I was expecting him to wake up in bed again with GEORGE CLOONEY as the beginning skid, but I guess they think that's not original anymore. Not that the last minute writing is entertaining. So far, Jon isn't drunk enough for me, or vice-versa.

Man, these jokes are lame. Personal stripper name using first pet name and street name???! SO LAST CENTURY, Jon. I tell better jokes than that. It's now the expected commentary on the Presidential Race. Are they going to bring up Al Gore? Come on, bring up Al. He needs the attention. So is Hollywood for Obama or Billary? He just made fun of Obama's name, which rhymed with Osama, of course. Another OLD JOKE. Hey, it's not like the race driver named Dick Trickle, 'kay? Ah, that would have been a perfect presidential candidate.

Poor Jennifer Garner, Alias girl, relegated to Best Costume announcement. You need to race more, Jennifer! Forget that mommy-thang. The black gown--not your color, sweetie. Remember that glorious orange you had on a few years back? WHEN YOU WERE DATING MICHAEL VARTAN, MY OTHER SWEETHEART? You broke his heart, you did.

SWOOOOON. It's GEORGE!!!!!

So you flubbed your lines. That's okay. The writers, apparently, are a bit rusty because so far the writing SUX. They are showing 90 years of presenters saying "Good evening" on the screen. Such inspiring prose. Do we really need to use the theme to The Titanic for showing grand moments of the last 80 years? I mean, this show is sinking, folks. Sinking fast.

They are presenting the animated feature award right now. What they need is Kurt Busch fighting with JonTony Stewart. Now, that'd bring some much needed animation. It's Lap 74. My, my, the NOSCARs are just racing along.

That's Kathleen Heigl with Marilyn Monroe hair. There's a hole on her left shoulder strap. Other than that, she looks amazing. Hope she's not going to tell us (again) how to pronounce her name. And NORBIT is the most disgusting movie ever to be shown on the plane, 'kay?

You know, if the speeches go on too long, we can knock these award winners off the stage with a speeding car. That would be kinda fun, I think, because they'd then speak weallyweallyweally fast to get to the end of their speech.

And now, our first entertainment portion of the night--little Earnhardt singing Enchanted..."A Happy Working Song." He looks so good in a miracle push-up bra. Oh, sorry, that was Amy Adams.

They are showing a montage of Michael Botoxface. Me, I'm taking a pit break.

Hey, it's The Rock, announcing for Visual Effects, you know, the award where the actors look scared when a huge monster-that-isn't-there is attacking them. What? The Golden Compass won over The Transformers?! As for Pirates...oh well, nothing new, more ocean waves, more fishface monsters....

Beautiful Cate Blanchette in purple. She looks pregnant. Is she? She's announcing for art and set direction. Yawn. No surprise, Sweeney Todd. And they just flashed Johnny Depp with that underlip mold growth. Poor man.

Jon Stewart just likened Cate B. to a pitbull. Interesting.

Is it scary if I tell you that when they show those old black-and-white montage, I REMEMBER WATCHING them when I was a kid? Argghhh. More wine.

It's Best Supporting Actor time. Jennifer Hudson shows up. I see the latest fashion trend this year, folks. Egyptian necklines. You know, shift with an Egyptian jeweled collar. Every woman's got them. And the winner should be Tom Wilkinson (Michael Clayton), but who knows? I only watched that movie, LOL. See? I was wrong, it's that Javier Bardem dude.

Damn, another rain delay on the Other Channel. At this rate, it's a race for which event would end first--the Oscars or the Nascar. So boring. Not a crash or weird see-through dress in sight.

They are showing the Oscar salute to binoculars and telescopes, a sort of self-mockery of what you'd have to watch if the Writers' Strike had continued. We get the point, Jon. You don't have any material. You should have come out in an Egyptian-collared dress. And push-up bra.

And now, the second act: Tony Stewart and Kurt Busch hugging up and singing "Kiss It Up." And then they crash each other's cars again. Oh, throw in Montoya too. You know he wants a piece of the action.

Owen Wilson is given the nominees for Best LIVE Action announcement. I don't want to say anything, even though it's the perfect moment for a cruel snark. Not saying it. Uh-uh.

You know, these foreigners are infesting the NOSCARS, dammit. What with Villeneuve, Montoya, Franchitti...here, have some chewing tobaccy, luvs. You guys need a cap. And stop all that accenting already.

Y'all just missed the Short Animated Film award. Do you care? Thought so.

I haven't seen any truly ugly dresses yet, by the way. This is truly disappointing. Oh wait, I think I remember Daniel Day-Lewis' date's dress. It looked like someone vomitted a poinsettia on its front. Maybe I can find a pic.

Best Supporting Actress. Oh come on, it's got to be Cate B., right? I did like that actress in Michael Clayton, though. That scene with her sweaty armpits? See, I remember it, so it must be good. HEY SHE DID WIN! Heh. She still looks sweaty with slicky hair and shiny face. And she's all accenty and wearing the wrong era--some kind of black Greek balloon. It's Egyptian time, girl! Sheesh!

Here's Jessica Alba who forgot to shave her chest hair.

The Other Race is still red-flagged and they're showing cartoons while waiting for the rain to stop. How appropriate.

The writing is still bad. Racing too. This is a disaster.

Best adapted screenplay. Atonement. Away From Her. The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. No Country for Old Man. There Will Be Blood.

What? No The Flame and the Flower? No Sleeping With The Agent? No The Millionaire and The Virgin? I swear those are better titles, yes?

Good God, we've arrived to the interesting portion about the Oscar Procedures. I shall now chug down more wine. Because it's like watching waterboarding, you know. I NEED SOME ENGINES ON FIRE, PEEPS!

The next song is sung by Michael Waltrip's happy warbling about Toyota. And LITTLE Earnhardt is playing with the Jeff Gordon's bongos. I'm sorry, my NOSCAR entertainment is much more fun than what they have. Sigh, where is Antonio Banderas and his guitar when you weally, weally, weally need him?

Starting my fourth glass, my friends. This does not bode well for coherence and spelling.

For some reason, Jon is tallying the pregnant actresses count. Jessica Alba, Cate Blanchette, Nicole Kiddman, and Angelina Jolie, if you're interested. Halle Berre and Judy Dench just showed up on stage with clown hair and face hair. Okay, it's two men who sorta look alike, pretenting to be JD and HB. It's the presentation for Sound Edit. Can you stand the suspense????! Well, Bourne Ultimatum wins. You know, the movie with the dude that looks like the guy on VIRTUALLY HERS. Ya don't believe me? Look at the cover on the right side of this blog. Told ya.

(Hey, what's a little liveblogging without pimping my own book, huh?)

This winning couple gave the Best Speech Evah. They both blanked out.

Now it's Best Sound Mixing. What's the difference between Sound Mixing and Sound Editing? Good question. Do you care? Like watching the cars go round and round and round without hearing the roaring engine, you know. And Bourne Ultimatum won again. Wow, that movie has good sounds.

I'm still scared. I have seen everyone of these past Oscar winners they are showing when they were making those speeches LIVE. My life...I wasteth four hours a year on this. I need therapy.

I believe Forrest Whitaker is an immortal. He looks exactly the same every year. Best Actress award now. Cate Blanchett, whom I love. Or, Julie Christie, the favorite, and still very Dr. Zhivago-beautiful. But it'll go to a foreigner.

You see? Gennita is rarely wrong when she's drunk. And she's all overwhelmed and accenty, saying, "Eeet iz trooe der is some MANGELS in this city." Obviously, she's been with MY GEORGE CLOONEY. Damn her, damn her to hell.

It's Colin Ferrell who spots pre-bald Agassi hair. Or current Tony Stewart dirty hair. And they sing a duet together. The songs nominated year proves there was also a SONGWRITERS Strike.

It's Bad Boy Jack Nicholson. Instead of sunglasses, he's wearing the frame of one with old-man reading glasses. So he isn't as immortal as he thinks. Montage of the past 79 best movies. Okay, this would be fun for me. See, I actually saw most of those movies up to the late 90s. So I know what I'm talking about till then, LOL. I actually saw The Sound of Music 365 times because my siblings grew up watching that movie once a day. To this day, they can still mouth the entire movie's dialogue. Scary, I know.

Bourne Ultimatum won for film editing. You see? Good sound. Good editing. And presented by Renee Zellwegger wrapped in so many Swarozski diamonds, she had some left over for Nichol Kiddman. She doesn't look at all preggers, but then I'm blinded by the bling-bling. It's an honorary Oscar. Like, if you'd never won a car race but live to be 100, they're going to give you a little something for being such a great driver, or something like that.

Nichol With-Kiddman looks like she's going to barf on stage any minute now. This guy, Robert Doyle, is giving a history of moving images. Zzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Oh wait, something to look forward to coming up...John Revolta! Don't leave me now. We're still stuck at Lap 87 on the Other Event, by the way, with Jimmy Johnson leading. Jimmy is also J. Gordon's protegee and teammate, for those who aren't in the know, and that's why it's no coincidence is car is 48 to J. Gordon's 24, if you ask me. Now little E., he's now 88. He can't do math.

Penelope Cruz, also with chest hair, presents...the foreign movie award. I bet you a glass of wine another foreigner wins. Wait, did I just watch a Kazakhstan movie of Mongolian ala Genghiz Khan warriors? (looking at wine suspiciously) Mongolians speaking Kazakhstani? Bwahahahaha.

SHRRRIIIIEKKKKKK. It's Patrick McDreamy Dempsey, whom I can lick all night too (looking at George very apologetically), introducing Kasey Kahne to sing a song from Enchanted. So we get to see a bunch of dancers waltzing, going round and round the race track. Wait, is that Karl Edwards playing the prince?

It's it's...argh...Revolta. My God, man. Botox is really not your friend. And that helmet head. Even your chin dimple is frozen, man. I. Need. More. Alcohol.

For your trivial information, I did J.T.'s roof. He used to live around here, and everyone called him J.T., like he's their best buddy or something. I also saw Saturday Night Fever at least 360 times because it was on that freaking long in the theatre that I get to see free movies (friend working as usher sneaking us in). That damn movie. That damn shirt. That damn pose. They censored the scene of Johnny's hand in his underpants (beginning of the movie), so I never got to see that till it came out in Betamax. How's that for Gennita tidbit?

They're drying the track on the other channel. I think they're going to try to reach the halfway mark to call it official. I suppose the OSCARs is now official then, since I'm way halfway done with my bottle. Way halfway. Like running on empty.

Hey, it's what'sherface--Cameron Diaz--in a recycled gown. I swear I've seen her wearing it before. And she just tied her hair in an untidy ponytail. Wow. Cameron, running late? Cinematography went to And There Will Be Blood.

Hilary Swank presents the montage of those who have departed. After all, she did that movie this year about someone who died too, you know. Besides the most recent tragic loss, the only big name I remember is one of my idols, Ingmar Bergman. I love his work.

Is it bad form to say that I'm getting the munchies?

Amy Adams comes out and posed some rhetorical questions (would Jaws be frightening without the Jaws music?). Then it's Atonement for Best Score of something like that. I'm sorry. Brain not working any more. I found a new bottle of wine. Oh-oh. o-O It's another win for the accent, folks, if you're paying attention.

It's Tom Hanks, the Botox Bee. You see? He can't smile either. So let's invite our so-very-busy military dudes in Iraq to give out the nominees for Short Subject. Wow. And they're stuck in a...LONG war. Look out, look out, incoming, incoming!!!! Dudes, this war isn't action-packed enough for you, right? And the funniest thing just happened: the subject that won...samesexlurv. The military giving an award for Don'tAskDon'tTell short subject. Bwahahahaha. I die.

It's now documentary time, which means the winner would be something against Bush. You just know it. See? Waterboarding and torture--sure bet for an Oscar.

Well, if I had the inclination, I'd have made a short documentary of JT's stay here. He lived in famous subdivision that allows its homeowners to fly in their airplanes and PARK THEM IN THEIR SPECIAL GARAGES. But he wanted to buy a Lear Jet. John Travolta was banned from the neighborhood. And that was the end of his stay ;-). See, I'm full of Revolta trivia. Get me drunker and I might tell you about HIS LIVED-IN ASSISTANT who wore a smoking jacket when he answered the door. Bwahahahaha.

You know, those dang racecar drivers look more and more like Bart Simpson whenever I check. So strange. You know what's great with Zinfandel? Girl Scout Cookies. The ones with the chocolate and coconut all over them.

Oh, Harrison Ford, who sounds very, very tired. Original Screenplay goes to Juno, a screenplay by an ex-gogo dancer. Egyptian tiger top and a tattoo. She is cool in my books, dudettes! My, the slit in her dress opens up all the way up there...good for pole-dancing. Snark, snark.

It's the Oscars for Best Actor. In my book, I'll give it to MY GEORGE CLOONEY, of course. Is there even any other man worth the Oscar, huh, huh?

Helen Mirren has the Best Dressed Award, for sure, and her voice is sooooo wonderful to listen to. GEORGE GEORGE GEORGE GEORGE CLOOOONEEEEYYYYY. I lurv you, my George, I LURV you. Mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah. Okay I love Daniel Day-Lewis too but his moustache is horrible in this movie. As for Johnny Depp, he deserves this Oscar for his singing cojones. Tommy Lee Jones is an old favorite but he already won one, so there. And I nominate Viggo Mortenson's naked butt for an Oscar.

Boohoo, it's Mustachioed Man DDL, the favorite to win. See? Accent win again. Okay, what is this with the double earrings--Daniel Day-Lewis looks like Ruth Buzzi without the hairnet.

Well, it's downhill from here. My GEORGE didn't win, what a shame. What a shame, I say. He actually did ACT in this movie too, dammit, dammit, DAMMIT! GEORGE WAS ROBBED! RRRrrrrOOooOoooBBBBBed, I say! The final scene of Michael Clayton? BEST FACIAL EXPRESSION EVAH! You voters are just jealous of his face! EndRant.

Martin Scorsese comes out to present Best Director. The Coen Brothers won. They look like Judy Dench and Halle Berre. Snerk.

Oooh, Denzel Washington. When did he go bald? =8-O Best motion picture. Well...I bet you Judy Dench and Halle Berre win again.

SEEEee? See? You cannot beat a drunk Gennita at the guessing game. Cannot.

I weep for Michael Clayton. But at least Sweaty Armpits won for Best Supporting Actress. George, you were robbed, baby. Come home to me...I'll kiss you better. And more.

And so, it's over...BEFORE MIDNIGHT! How's that possible?

One and the half bottles of wine later and I can still type ;-). Thank you for staying with me through my NOSHSCAR, ahem. I think this year's Academy Award was the MOST BORING EVAH. The only thing going for it was all the ladies with their chest hair.

See ya next year!

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Uber Blind Deaf And Dumb

Dear Lauren Dane, George Clooney IS MINE! So is Gerard Butler. You can keep your Clive Owen because I'm generous like that, but stay away from my two Gs! George, Gennita and Gerry--that's right! And if you threaten to cut me again, I'll take bad pictures of you at RT next year, photoshop them, and post them on this very blog!

Heh. I love me a crazy running feud.

And let's give a shoutout to the COLORADO ROCKIES, shall we? That's one of my favorite teams although I can never seem to get to see them live whenever I'm in Denver. World Series, woohooo! It'd be so much fun to be in Denver right now, enjoying playoff atmosphere among my baseball buddies.

****WARNING: LONG RANT BELOW****

So in case you think I've been doing nothing but watching TV, I want to assure you that that's not true. So much going on! There's the trainwreck I told you about from a few days back, the one about Lanaia Lee and her ghostwritten "book of her heart" (yes, that's me dripping with sarcasm) with the plagiarized Gemmell prologue. It is still up on her webpage! And she, along with her agent, are now threatening to sue Jane from Dear Author for slander (wrong kind of suit, but hey, you can't teach someone with earplugs stuck deep in their cranium) because apparently, it's wrong to point out the truth.

I keep shaking my head as this story progresses because these two women would NOT listen to anyone trying to give them good advice, including TAKING DOWN the plagiarized material. Instead, they are sending readers from Lanaia's Yahoogroup to "scold" the different sites' posters for being mean people. Yikes.

As a published author, I literally bump into one person almost everyday who has written a book and wants it published. I'm not even surprised any more by strangers approaching me while I eat or shop, or even while I'm on a roof. Not for an autograph ;-), but for one of three things:

1) "I have written a book. Can you read it?"

2) "I have written a book. Can you help me get it published?"

3) "I have a wonderful story. Can you write it for me? I'll share my profits with you."

This tells me that there are many people out there who don't understand how publishing as a business works. And even when they think they do, they don't. This leads to me remembering how I got started.

Have I ever approached anyone on the street asking them to read my manuscript? No. Have I ever asked anyone to write my story? No.

Sure, I've gone down a few wrong paths during those early days, including answering an advertisement by Edit Ink, a notorious agency that scammed eager writers by charging them hundreds (to thousands, from what I heard) of dollars to help them "edit" their manuscript and then find a publisher for them.

But you know what? Even in my naivete then, something didn't smell right to me. I have done a little research by then, and even when I barely knew anything, the first thing I learned was that one DOES NOT pay to have one's work published. Most publishing/editing that charge are little more than vanity presses and unless it's what you want, then avoid them like crazy. I did not take up Edit Ink's offer to take my money, but as the years went by, I've met many an author, some successfully published today, who had admitted to giving a few hundred to a thousand dollars to this company.

I understand. We writers, the ones who want to share our stories with the world anyway, can get rather desperate. The need to see our work printed in a visible and public format haunts us. Being published delights our souls, even validate our self-image in some ways. So when someone offers us a way to get our books out there, it sounds like heaven to us.

However, there is desperation and there is desperation. There seems to be a line between wanting to share with the world and wanting to be famous. Of course I want to be famous too but my first priority has always been to write the story and share it with my readers. The fame is just a by-product, something I have to work for to get more readers with whom to share my stories. Am I making sense?

In other words, I want to be famous so I can reach more readers.

On the other hand, there's people like Lanaia Lee. There are many versions of her, but her basic story is very similar to those who have spent their last dollar just to get published. This is not a putdown on those who go to lulu.com to publish their books and with a few hundred copies, sell them at their leisure. There is a use for vanity presses. Sometimes, it fulfills a private need to see the words in print, to say that you published a book. If that's what you want, and if that's what makes you happy, good for you. And bully for you too, if you manage to be a presence on the web and in newspapers.

However, aside from the above example, as a published author, it pains me to know that there are actually people out there who would not see past their "published" books to understand that they have been scammed.

Lanaia's case has got to be the craziest one I've come across so far, what with an unknown writer hiring a ghostwriter who then plagiarized a famous author, AND then hiring an agent who gets her book published through a vanity press. It's mindboggling, trying to wrap my head around the whole deal, especially when the "author" is reproducing emails between her and this ghostwriter/scammer (just google Lanaia Lee, lots of details everywhere) to prove that she did "nothing wrong," when it's quite apparent that she's oblivious to the fact that the rewritten parts' writing wasn't similar to her own and that her ghostwriter was steering her toward "his" own plot.

In their heart of hearts, these writers have to know that people promising fame and fortune if they'd send them money are artists of a different sort, the same kind that sends those "foreign" emails that claim that they are General Abdoolstupido who has $50,000,000,000 worth of gold coins in some vault and because of some political strife in the make-believe country of Stoopidestan, need people to send them real cash so they can transfer these coins into your hands for safekeeping. Yet, we find people doing exactly that. Contact the "general" to exchange real cash for fool's gold.

The general good advice to follow in every situation is, if it sounds too good to be true, it is. Because, like Heinlein popularized, there ain't no such thing as a free lunch. And the more splendid an offer, the more suspicious the whole thing should be.

But we're talking about desperate writers, the ones who aren't about the words but the book. "I have a story. Write it for me so I can see my story in a book" kind of writers. So desperate that they would hire a ghostwriter for $$$ a month, with the end promise that there will be a book at the end of the bridge, when in reality, there is nothing there but a sheer drop.

Sheesh. I didn't mean to make this post a rant. I guess I'm more perturbed by the idea of blind deaf and dumb to the obvious than I thought! For those too lazy to google or read through the humongous thread from the Absolute Writer and Making Light forums, here is a short version of the art of being blind deaf and dumb, ghostwritten by my dog, Jiggle Low:

Author: I've written a book! Here's the excerpt! Read it! It's the book of my heart! It's going to be the next Harry Potter! It's coming out this October! Buy it!

Reviewer: (after reading) Umm. This excerpt is plagiarized from David Gemmell's introduction of Dark Prince.

Author: What? Are you crazy? I own the copyright! Watch your mouth!

Reviewer: Look, you can read the same excerpt from Barnes and Noble, under David Gemmell's book. You can't sell copyrighted material.

Author: It's my book! I copyrighted it!

Reviewer: if you're going to sell this book, I'm going to have to post it on my site that your excerpt on your website is an exact reproduction of...

Author: Shut up! I'm telling you! Shut up! Don't do it! You will be sorry!

Reviewer posted about this excerpt, with links to the book and to author's website. Many readers and writers post on author's chatbox, telling her to take down excerpt.

Author: You are all mean people! I am an invalid! I have had strokes! My husband is also an invalid!

Reviewer and readers: We're so sorry to hear that but you need to take the excerpt down.

Author: Mean! Mean! I'm going to have a stroke. I have done nothing wrong!

Author's Agent: I hereby curse you mean people! Shut up! Or I curse you over and over!

Author: Why are they so mean to me? Okay, so I didn't write that first part. It was ghostwritten by a scammer, 'kay? See? I told you I did nothing wrong!

Reviewer and readers: But it's still plagiarized. Take down the excerpt before you get into trouble.

Author: Trouble? I'll give you trouble! I'm contacting my lawyer and will sue you for libel! I have done nothing wrong. I'm innocent! Sue you, sue you!

Author's agent: (and I'm quoting straight from her yahoogroup) Diddo.

Reviewer and readers: It's not libel. It's slander.

Author: I'm wheelchair bound! I'm sick. Stress will give me another stroke. Then you'll be sorry. See here--reproductions of emails to my scammer. See how much I paid him? He's the bad guy here!

Reviewer and readers: We know you've been scammed. But you can't leave that excerpt up at your site. Take it down. And also, you can't just rewrite that intro by rephrasing sentences. It's called infringement of...

Author: Shut up! I'm innocent!

Author's agent: My lawyer is calling you right now! Oh yes! And I still curse you!

*****

As you can see, it's amusing and fascinating, in a crane-your-neck-at-a-highway-accident sort of way. This woman is more handicapped than she realizes. I feel sorry for her, but not in the way she wants.

P/S Jiggle Low charged me ten doggie kisses for that little piece of work.

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