Signs, Signs, Everywhere a Sign

So, the King of Jordan is coming to campus tomorrow. They’ll block off some roads and put up cones and such. One road to my parking lot is already closed because of contruction, and they didn’t quite get the alternate directions right.

Stay with me, there’s a point to this. I decided to go for a lunchtime walk today. It was really, really cold, and I wasn’t dressed properly. I lost track of how far I had gone, and basically ended up in about 21 degree weather in thin slacks jogging around campus, my thighs numb.

Yesterday, I got lost in a neighborhood I used to know pretty well on my way to the doctor. A ten minute trip took a half hour. On the radio they were talking about how wrong GPS systems can be. I would have sold my soul for one.

I hate being lost. I really, really hate it. In my youth, especially abroad, it wouldn’t bother me at all. Wander through windy Greek streets, stop in a cafe, practice my vocabulary to find my way back. Now…ugh.

I have NO tolerance for getting lost when I write. I feel as if everything I’ve encountered on the road is reflected in my writing right now. I just hit a dead end. Back up. What are they doing in Egypt again? I don’t know. Try a different route. Read the whole thing from the beginning. Oh no! It sucks. Do I hate to trash this WIP?

I’d better go read my horoscope, or consult Madam Philomena. I’ve had terrifying dreams lately–I mean, truly horrifying.

Does one theme run through every aspect of your life at the same time? Are you like me? Sometimes sadness, sometimes absolute kick-ass invulnerability, and now…lost.

My Big Fat Category Bias and Romance Shame

I read a category romance–once. I don’t remember the name, but it was about a martial arts student and her instructor (it was pretty awful). A friend thought I’d like it because I used to do martial arts.

When I recently went for a nuclear cardio stress test, I was undoubtedly the youngest person in the waiting room. Of about six women there, two were reading HQNs, one was reading an old Nora, and one was reading John Grisham.

One of the women reading the HQNs noticed my t-shirt that said “Careful or you’ll end up in my novel,” given to me by a smartass friend. She asked what kind of novels I wrote. I tried to explain what I’ve written, and she held up her Nocturne and said “oh, like this.” I started to protest, and then realized that I was suffering from romance writer’s identity crisis–again. Again again. Every time I think I’ll scream if I hear one more defensive apologia for romance in blogland, I realize that it’s a valid topic. FOR the WRITERS. Not for the readers.

This woman had made it to eighty and was about to get a one-year post-bypass checkup. She’d earned the right to read any damned thing she liked, and hold it up for all the world to see. I still don’t understand the psychology of romance shame amongst writers. (And I include myself.) The readers simply do not share it. I’m going to consult my brother the shrink on this one, but I have a theory. Romance writers who are defensive about writing romance are that way because THEY have a problem with what they write. THEY want to write something…else? More? More literary? The people who don’t apologize about it seem happiest and most successful. Does anyone else notice this?

Honestly, would you go out of your way to hide the fact that you’re reading a romance?

Traveling blogger

I’m at Samhain Publishing’s Blog today! Come by and help beat the winter blues! PS–my blog goes up 3pm EST

Snow!

I hate it! The only thing I like about this snow is that it’s easier to see the birds at the feeder. But hey, I’m at work, and they are home, ignoring my cat at the window.

Who else has snow and/or a cold?

Thirteen Mistakes I Made as a Writer

1. Triskelion
2. Worry
3. “Pulling” books
4. Subbing my best book to a company where it didn’t fit–aargh
5. Trying to write very erotic stuff
6. Rewriting old books
7. Worry
8. Worry
9. Spending too much time on loops, blogs, the like
10. Jealousy
11. Trusting that all other authors were sincere
12. Waiting too long to take a next step
13. None of the above were really mistakes, cause I’m happy

All You Ever Needed in One List

I caught a wave this afternoon in my search for grammar tidbits to send to my coworkers. (Anyone who has edited my stuff–please stop snickering now.)

Anywho, I once again stumbled upon the masters of magic, the muses of meanderings, the gods of style. The writers of the Elements of Style, Strunk and White.

I thought you might enjoy a summary of White’s guidelines on how to write. You don’t really need much more than this:

White’s rules:
Place yourself in the background.
Write in a way that comes naturally.
Work from a suitable design.
Write with nouns and verbs.
Revise and rewrite.
Do not overwrite.
Do not overstate.
Avoid the use of qualifiers.
Do not affect a breezy manner.
Use orthodox spelling.
Do not explain too much.
Do not construct awkward adverbs.
Make sure the reader knows who is speaking.
Avoid fancy words.
Do not use dialect unless your ear is good.
Be clear.
Do not inject opinion.
Use figures of speech sparingly.
Do not take shortcuts at the cost of clarity.
Avoid foreign languages.
Prefer the standard to the offbeat.

How I Avoided Writing Yesterday

Well, I did write a thousand words. My couple is dragging their feet, and I’ve never tried something under 15K. Yikes, they must get together, into bed with them, soon.

Anyway, recovering from a trip to see Mom in nursing home, wasn’t too much into anything hard. So I watched The Trouble with Tribbles. I hadn’t watched a Star Trek episode in a bazillion years. I forgot how funny William Shatner always was. Then I, Robot was on. Now, there’s a scene with Will Smith in the shower. I’ve seen it before, but it was worth a second viewing. Crickey. I love Will.

Last night we watched National Treasure, the first one. Entertaining, a little silly, but still worth a quick watch. It’s really annoying when a secondary character suddenly develops supertechnical skills out of nowhere. But I love me some treasure stories, and that was pretty good.

For mindless entertainment, I really did well.

So, Valentine’s Day–What are You Doing?

I bought Moose a card. He lectured me about how Valentine’s Day is for women, and I guess maybe it is. I’m hoping for a stuffed bear. No blood diamonds (not that our budget is running to those these days). Can’t have flowers, because Simon the Talking Cat will eat them, one by one, pausing only to throw up so he can have more.

I’ll cook my ginormous shrimp–tons of garlic and butter (definitely not a core program Weight Watchers day), and we’ll watch a movie. And well, you know…

What do you have planned?

Working 9 to 5, in Style or Why I’m Tired of Mom Stories

Please, don’t hate me because I’m beautiful. That’s me in the office. I think I’ll have Indian food flown in from India this evening.

Actually, that’s Madonna, but you knew that, clever girl. I respect Moms, and I do not know how Moms who write romances do it. It must be very, very tough. We hear about it all the time–running little Mary and Joey to soccer practice, doing laundry, cooking dinner, cleaning, shopping. I’m serious. I have no freaking idea how my mom did what she did–she worked full time and raised three hellish kids, cleaned, cooked, etc. She WALKED to work–an hour each way. The good ol days.

Okay, I’m about to become more unpopular. I think SAHMs have an inferiority complex or something in which they feel they have to constantly justify how busy they are. I would imagine that society has done this to them. Romance writers who are also SAHMs seem especially prone to this insecurity. It’s hard, we understand it’s hard, to find uninterrupted time to write. However, you aren’t alone. If you have to leave the house at 7 to get to the office, and work until 5, or later, get home at 6:30 if you’re lucky, cook, shop, clean, etc. You get the idea. My day isn’t any longer.

There are writers also caring for sick parents, spouses, siblings. Romance blogs are so full of “how busy I am because I’m a mom” stories. I respect these moms and writers more than I can say. Please reread the last sentence. I mean it. But crickey, do we have to hear about it constantly? I just read three blogs that basically said that moms have trouble balancing home and writing. Guess what? Other women do too. And that’s probably my insecurity speaking.

Oh Man, What Now???

You know those months? Those you think you’ll never get through, but you do, and much later on they don’t seem so bad. I got back from my trip to see my Mom in hospital (and I’m still waiting for my own health report–aargh), to learn that the entries for my contest are bouncing? Huh?

My website mailbox (was/is) full. It’s getting better now. I’ve deleted 200 messages, and only have about 12,500 to go. Maybe by the summer?

Anywho, if you’re entering the contest, you can even go to the contact spot on my website at my website and it will work!