In the fall and winter, I’m usually a bit of a walking disaster. I have asthma and allergies and the the bastards frequently gang up on me and invite all the cold germs up in here. My husband frequently refers to me as, “The Plague Maiden.”
I can usually tell when I’m getting sick because I suddenly start getting irrationally angry at everything. The irrational anger usually devolves into uncontrollable weeping.
There are a few things I swear by when I get the creeping crud. The biggest and most important one is Gypsy Cold Care Tea (made by Traditional Medicinals) with a heaping teaspoon of raw honey.
This stuff is amazing. It doesn’t taste too assy and it soothes my throat and clears my head and chest. I usually buy a case (16 bags per box, six boxes per case) every year from Amazon. I really can’t say enough good things about this tea.
I also take, what my husband refers to as the Crunchy Granola Cold Cocktail which Echinacea and Golden Seal capsules, extra Vitamin C, Zinc, Garlic, and Magnesium pills. Oh, and Nyquil pills at night with all the other stuff.
I also try to sleep a lot. And of course, lots of fluids.
So…you guys have any great cold and flu tricks? If so, please share. It’s getting to be that time of year. And check the links below to see what the other bloggers recommend.
This isn’t a song, I’m familiar with. If I’m listening to Alanis, it’s gonna be the angry Jagged Little Pill variety. But I’ll give it a go. If you’re also unfamiliar with this song, here are the lyrics.
Well…listened to the song. I was hoping for something that would somehow fall in line with the last bit of Flash Fiction, but that doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen. Oh well, such is the way of things.
Okay…so story time. I’ll definitely be continuing this one.
“Would the following people please report to the office…Jasmine Alexander, Cooper Drummond…”
No surprise there. My brother’s jerk friend was constantly getting into trouble and called to the office because of it. I tuned out the rest of the morning announcements like usual, and focused on a little last minute studying for my English quiz.
Sasha Mickey, the girl who sat behind me, poked me in the shoulder. “You got called to the office.”
I looked up. Everyone in the class was staring at me. Including the teacher. I turned to face Sasha. “What?”
“The secretary just called Toby Michaels.”
I grabbed my backpack, aware of the stares and whispers flying around the room. No one ever got called to the office for anything other than a disciplinary issue or something awful like a death in the family. And I hadn’t done anything to get in trouble. Panic settled in my stomach, and I walked more quickly.
Cooper was already waiting, slouched in one of the plastic molded chairs as if this was just business as usual. And for him, it clearly was. Ms. Kolenda, the secretary looked frazzled—also as usual. Maybe she’d gotten me mixed up with my brother. Toby Michaels. Tyler Michaels. It could happen.
My hope died when I saw my Aunt Liz standing by the front desk looking like she hadn’t slept in days. She whirled around as I opened the door. “There you are,” she said with a huge, not particularly convincing smile on her face. “I tried to explain to the office staff that you spent the night at my house last night and you’d forgotten your lunch.”
I hadn’t spent the night at might aunt’s last night. I opened my mouth and closed it just as quickly at the widening of my aunt’s eyes and the slight shake of her head.
“You could have just left it with us,” Ms. Kolenda muttered. “There was no need to yank her out of class.”
“There are very specific reheating instructions,” Liz said, clearly ignoring the other woman. “Make sure you follow them to the letter.”
I nodded, not sure what to make of my aunt’s bizarre behavior. Not to mention her bizarre dress. Well, yoga pants and a messy ponytail could hardly be considered bizarre by most people’s standards, but considering my aunt wore a lab coat like it was a suit of armor, and I’d never seen her dressed in anything less formal than a skirt and sensible pumps with her hair in a tasteful up do. At least, I could let go of my worry about a death in the family. Of course, that fear had been replaced with the new one that Liz had lost her mind.
“Okay,” I nodded. I had so many questions, but when she hugged me awkwardly, I forgot every last one. My aunt never hugged—awkwardly or otherwise.
“Follow the reheating instructions,” she said while checking her watch. “I should go. I’m going to be late…for zumba.”
If there was one thing I knew for sure, it was that my aunt had never zumba-ed in her life, and I seriously doubted she was starting now. She glanced at the bag then met my gaze before dropping hers to the bag, again.
Walking backward, she waved at me, her eyes full of some emotion I couldn’t identify, then opened the office door and practically race-walked to the exit.
I looked around wondering if anyone else had noticed her odd behavior, but then, no one else knew her. To them, she probably just looked like a flighty suburban housewife. From the window, I saw my aunt get into a car I’d never seen before and peel out of the parking lot.
Pretending I didn’t hear the squealing tires, I smiled at Ms. Kolenda. “Sorry, she’s a little ditzy.”
Ms. Kolenda just raised her eyebrows in a way that implied she completely agreed and handed me a hall pass back to class. I added a little extra time on there so you can go put your lunch in your locker.”
“Thanks.” I smiled at her and turned toward the door, still clutching the lunch bag. My smile faded as I made eye contact with Cooper.
He nodded at me, and I could see the curiosity in his eyes. “We still on for tutoring later?”
I stifled my sigh. I wanted to get out of here and see what I was carrying around and what was important enough to lie about, because there was no way this was food. “Yeah. Meet me in the lab after school.”
He nodded but said nothing else, just watched me as I nearly ran into the door frame trying to get out of the office.
I wasn’t positive, but I think I heard him chuckle. The ass. I wished he’d just get kicked out of school already. But until he did, I was stuck with the arrogant jerk.
His father had hired me to tutor Cooper in math and science since he was failing both classes. We were spending far more time together than I wanted—but whatever—it was money. College wasn’t going to pay for itself. And while I was pretty sure I’d get at least some scholarships, I wanted to be sure I had enough money to get as far away from this town as possible. And universities that that had reputable biochemistry programs were extremely expensive. But right now I had more pressing things to worry about—like what was going on with my aunt, and what was really in this brown paper bag.
Ducking into the nearest bathroom, I hoped it would be empty. Someone was in the farthest stall, so I locked myself into the one closest to the door and tried to quietly open the bag. Pulling out a folded piece of paper I read it. Then I read it again. I didn’t know if I should be terrified that Aunt Liz really had lost her mind or terrified that she hadn’t, and this was real. I scanned her note one more time, goose bumps racing over my skin.
Dear Toby – I’m sorry to have to ask you to do this, but, at this point, you’re the only one I can trust. Please run these vials and isolate and (if you can) identify the compounds. Slides are fine. You can text me whatever you find at the number listed below. Do not, under any circumstances, use my regular cell phone. Only the number I’ve provided below.
Should anyone contact you asking questions about me, you’re to tell them we’re not close. You’ve never helped me with my work. You have no idea where I am or how to contact me. Don’t mention this to anyone—not even your parents. It’s safer for everyone.
I’m so sorry to have to drag you into this, but this may be our only opportunity to find a way to fight Guardian. It’s spreading and it’s closer than anyone knows.
Be safe. Keep your head down. Play dumb if you have to. I love you. – Aunt Liz
Fear twisted my stomach as I carefully peered through the rest of the contents. Eight, sealed, plastic culture tubes sat in a portable rack in the bottom of the bag along with a pile of microscopic graticule slides and cover slips.
How the hell had she gotten herself involved with anything to do with Guardian? And more importantly, how was I going to get her out? I gingerly placed the bag inside my backpack and checked the time on my phone. We had shortened classes today which didn’t leave me a ton of time in the lab before I had to tutor Cooper. Maybe today would be one of those days he blew off tutoring in favor of being a delinquent ass. I didn’t want to count on it, though. I had a feeling he’d show up just to find out what was up with Liz.
Besides, the sooner I got these tubes in the centrifuge, the sooner I could get the results to my aunt. The unsettled feeling in my stomach told me it couldn’t possibly be quickly enough.
That’s it for this time. Check out Jessica and Kris‘ stories.
So, I think that Corwin is well on his way to becoming a Joelist. I think Jenny Trout would be proud.
His CD of choice for the ride to school this week is a Billy Joel mix that the lovely Kayleigh Jones made.
Today, he decided that we were going listen to Big Shot and She’s Always a Woman. Yesterday, it was Only the Good Die Young. On repeat.
Corwin: You know…Billy Joel has some pretty great visual imagery.
Me: Yeah, he really does.
Corwin: Are both of these songs about the same woman?
Me: I’m not sure. That’s probably a question for Jen.
Corwin: Yeah…she’ll know. But…I kinda feel like even if they are, Billy Joel makes terrible romance choices. These women don’t sound like good ideas at all.
Me: I can’t argue with that.
Corwin: He should probably stick to those Catholic girls.
It’s another wordless Wednesday in which I’ll likely use words and generally be a rule breaker. But these are just a few pictures of things that happened this summer, places I went, people I was with and our two new kittens, Kitsune and Loki.
Peonies in my mom’s garden. Of course, right after I took this picture, I saw a motherfucking PINK SPIDER in one of the flowers, screamed and ran away while hyperventilating and generally annoying her neighbors.
Writers Retreat fun. Well, not all of it, obviously, or we’d be here all day.
Writer/blogger/friends fun time! In addition to all the laughs and hugs, there was also goat cheese!
Saw this creepy little dude near where I usually park. Apparently, the neighbors had an unfortunate monkey infestation.
Jenny Trout took me to pet stingrays! It was MAGICAL!
Took these while I was waiting for Jenny to get out of the creepy bird house at the zoo.
This is what happens when both my niece and flowers are in the same place.
Some shots from our family vacation.
Jess Jarman came to stay with me for a week, and it was fantastic!
These are our ridiculous new kittens – Kitsune and Loki. They’re littermates, even though they don’t look it. We’ve had them for about 5 weeks, now, and as you can see, they’re already starring in the Interspecies Ballet with my son, Corwin, who’s some kind of cat whisperer. Also, Loki likes to help me write.
Be sure to check out the other bloggers’ Wordless Wednesday posts.
Okay, so it’s no secret, I hate cooking. I’m not an awful cook or anything, I just don’t like doing it. Okay, there was than one time I made some kind of orange chicken dish and even the cats wouldn’t eat it, but it was my first (and last) time using that recipe.
But, without further ado, here’s the list. Probably with links to my Let’s be honest…it’s food porn board on Pinterest. If I’ve made it, I’ll make a note with the outcome.
A – Apple and Sharp Cheddar Scones(I don’t know if these will be as good as the ones I get from my favorite coffee house, but here’s hoping…)
Thick homemade bread, herbed goat cheese, aged white cheddar, smoked gouda, gruyere, super crispy bacon, fresh baby spinach leaves, thinly sliced kumato tomatoes and thinly sliced Granny Smith apples. One of my favorite comfort foods.
G – Granola I’m a huge granola lover (no one is surprised). But I’m picky as fuck about it. Mostly because I want it to taste like the stuff my mom used to make when we were little. But…she lost the recipe. *weeps bitter tears* This one is the closest I’ve come.
L – Leeks, Mushroom, and Brie Soup(I’ll be trying this soon. I had some in New Orleans and it was one of the best soups I’ve ever had in my life. I’ve never wanted to lick out a bowl more than this one.)
M – Meow Loaf This is actually a turkey meatloaf – one of the most delicious ones I’ve ever had. However, because I was dictating the recipe to my child (I was driving and on the phone getting the recipe and the kid was taking notes) this is what I got. So, it’s been Meow Loaf ever since. I think1 dead meow is my favorite – it corresponds to the dried rosemary. (Actual recipe below.)
1 pound lean ground turkey
1 small apple (chopped)
1/2 small onion
1/2 cup rolled oats
2 teaspoons yummy stone ground mustard
1 teaspoon dried rosemary
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1 cup shredded cheddar (plus a big handful for the top)
1can jellied cranberry sauce
Mix everything (except the handful of cheese) together and press it into a loaf pan. Bake at 350 for 40 minutes. Sprinkle handful of cheese over the top. Bake for 20 more minutes. Drain off any grease and let stand for 5-10 minutes before cutting. Serve with cranberry sauce.
P –Pierogi (I love good, authentic, preferably homemade Polish food)
Q – Quiche (Made this for the writers retreat in June. It seemed to go over well.)
2 premade piecrusts because laziness
12 large (or extra-large) eggs
splash of milk
dashes of salt, pepper, dill weed, and a little garlic powder
1 bag of broccoli, cauliflower and carrots (thawed)
smoked gouda
aged white sharp cheddar
gruyere
swiss
real bacon pieces (I use Hormel)
Place tin foil over your racks, preheat oven to 350.
After the crusts are in the pie plates, pierce the dough with a fork and bake at 350 for 5-7 minutes. Remove pie plates from oven. Let cool.
Whip together the eggs, milk, seasonings. Mix in bacon (if you’re using it), and thawed vegetables, mix in the shredded cheeses. Stir well to make sure everything is blended. Fill pie plates (use the largest pie plates you can find), place in oven and bake. They usually take 45-60 minutes. Bake until golden brown on top and do the knife test on each quiche.
W – White Bean Chicken Chili (My mom’s recipe…with a lot of mom-isms)
Sandy’s White Chicken Chili
Place eight or so chicken breasts in 7 quart crockpot.
Cook on high until done. (it’ll make about ½” of juice in the bottom – leave it.
(When asked how long that would take, mom’s response was, “If they’re frozen about an hour and a half. If they’re not…hell if I know. I never remember to take meat out of the freezer.”)
Take breasts out, let them cool.
Put 2 chopped onions and 3 heaping tablespoons of minced garlic in the water.
Add a quart of canned chicken broth.
And 1 large jar (or 2 – 3 small cans) of green enchilada sauce (enchilada verde)
And 4 large cans of corn. Or a bag or two of frozen corn. (I use the corn water from two of the cans)
Add cumin to taste (at least a tsp to start)
Add can of cream of chicken soup to thicken.
Use 4 cans of Great Northern Beans (white beans (drained) or Cannellini beans (I use all the bean water to thicken the chili)
Chop up chicken, return to pot.
Add more cumin to taste.
Cook it on high for a while, remember to stir occasionally.
(When asked how long, mom’s response was, “Until I think it looks thick enough. Unless I’m really hungry. If I’m really hungry, I’ll eat it no matter how thick it is. But sometimes I’ll take the lid off to thicken it faster. Unless I’m really hungry. I should probably make some chili.”)
X – Xiangjiao Cream Cheese Bread (Okay…I kinda cheated. Xiangjiao is banana in Chinese. At least…according to the internet it is.
Check out the other bloggers’ recipes and be sure to share some of your faves. Also? Got Pinterest? I’d love to scope out your recipes. Even though I loathe cooking, I still have to do it. 🙂
Okay, so that may, in fact, be a bit of hyperbole. But! I do have a bunch of awesome MM & MF BDSM erotic romance and Paranormal NA romance related book news to share.
Okay, first off, if you’re a fan of MM erotic romance and BDSM, Jess Jarman’s Nothing Serious is ah-maaaaaaaaa-zing! Seriously. It’s not only ridiculously hot, it also made me both laugh and cry – Jess’ emotional content is phenomenal.
Aaron Stevens likes his life the way it is. As a surgical resident, he is perfectly content with the fact that the precious hours he has outside the hospital revolve around taking care of his mother and sister. He doesn’t have the time or inclination for a serious relationship. So the fact his lover lives halfway around the world and is fine with jetting off to exotic locales a couple times a year for a few weeks of hot sex is as close to perfect as he can get.
The last thing Jack Hayes ever expected when his best friend got involved with an American was to hook up with her son. And he sure as hell never imagined it would continue for as long as it has. For years, he has been at Aaron’s beck and call, satisfied with submitting to him whenever Aaron and his busy life allow. But, after a change in his family’s company that has him looking for a new job, and possibly moving, Jack has begun to examine what he really wants in life and isn’t sure stolen moments here and there are enough anymore.
When Jack arrives to attend Aaron’s sister’s wedding, keeping what he and Aaron have a secret begins to take its toll. Aaron is unwilling to come out to his family, afraid of hurting them and ruining what should be the happiest day of his sister’s life. As much as Jack has come to love Aaron, he can’t bring himself to be the dirty secret in Aaron’s closet. Aaron has a choice to make, because the tighter he holds on to keeping their “nothing serious” arrangement, the closer he comes to losing everything. Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Kobo, ARe
And to celebrate the release of this awesome book, we’ve put book three of the Bound series, The Professor’s Student, on sale for a bit. You can get it at Amazon for 99 cents! (Limited time only.)
Six weeks in Ireland on a Bronze Age archeological dig is exactly what Josie Cooper needs. She loves teaching, but fieldwork is where her heart is, and working with Professor Declan O’Shaughnessy is a dream come true…until she meets the man. Declan is brilliant, gorgeous, and unapologetically arrogant. By the end of the first week, Josie is ready to push him into the Atlantic.
Unfortunately, annoyance doesn’t stop her physical reaction to him. Nor does it stop the way every accidental touch makes her crave more. More of his hands on her skin. More of his lilting voice in her ear.
Knowing Josephine Cooper’s reputation in the archeology world, Declan is thrilled that she’d accepted his invitation to work the dig. However, he hadn’t counted on his overwhelming attraction to the American professor. Though he tries to maintain his distance and keep things professional between them, that plan goes to hell when he learns that Josephine returns his interest. And when an opportunity to act on that attraction, as well as explore her submission, presents itself, he jumps at it—taking complete control.
For the next five weeks, Josie agrees to submit to Declan. His instruction awakens needs she didn’t know she possessed, and she learns more about desire and herself than she would have thought possible. But what happens when their time is over, and Josie has to give up being his student to go back to being the professor again?
If paranormal erotic romance and/or a fan of new twists on Arthurian legend, you’ve got to get Jess Jarman’s The Deepest Cut. For starters, it’s FREE! Secondly, but far more importantly, it’s brilliant. And the the subsequent books, are too. Albion’s Circle is one of my all time favorite series.
For nineteen years, Anna has been plagued by dreams of lives lived only in legend. Finally free from the family that believed her hopeless and worthless, she’s ready to start her life over—alone.
When Anna meets an enigmatic stranger claiming to be the legendary wizard Merlin, she is forced to question the very reality she’s struggled to accept. With the mythic figures from her dreams intruding on her waking life, Anna learns that she’s been reborn to fight an ancient evil alongside King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table.
Caught in an ages old conflict, Anna is the key to stopping a dark magic that will destroy the world—and Merlin wants to make sure that this time, Anna isn’t alone.
Content Warning: This book contains mentions and depictions of self-harm and illicit drug use.
After you finish that one, you’re gonna want to get In My Veins, too. I can’t tell you how much I adore this series. It’s true, I’m a sucker for all things Arthurian, but this reimagining of the mythos is just fantastic.
Anna is his. Merlin has failed. The Circle is broken. After being defeated in every lifetime, Mordred believes he has finally won.
Even though Anna has little hope of gaining Merlin’s forgiveness for believing Mordred over him and the rest of the Circle, she isn’t giving up and vows to set things right. When an offer of help comes from an unlikely ally, Anna must trust her instincts—the very thing that got her into this mess in the first place.
Because more than just her survival hangs in the balance. Mordred took her for a reason. Anna is the key. The key to completing the Circle. The key to preventing unthinkable death and destruction at Mordred’s hand. The key to destroying the heart of a wizard whose love has followed her through the ages.
But Mordred has forgotten exactly what he is up against. Arthur and his Knights. The most powerful Magical to ever walk the Earth. And a love a thousand years in the making.
Note: This book contains some MM scenes. Content Warning: This book contains mentions and depictions of self-harm.
Edge of Darkness is the latest book in the Albion’s Circle series, and as much as I love the series as a whole, I think this one is my favorite. There may have been totally was ugly crying on my part near the end.
How far is too far? Where is the line that can’t be crossed? For Merlin, when it comes to Anna, the answers are easy. Too far doesn’t exist, and the uncrossable line has gotten pushed farther and farther away through the centuries until Merlin doesn’t see it anymore. And that becomes ever more clear to everyone as a new threat rises.
Being back with the Circle, back with Merlin—where she belongs—Anna should be happy. Her magic, finally free and within reach, and her memories following quickly, should be cause for celebration. But all of that is overshadowed, tainted by Mordred and the connection he’s forged between their minds. With Mordred in her head, taunting and manipulating her at every turn, Anna fears she’ll never truly be free.
Though his days as King of Camelot and High King of all of Albion are in a long, distant past, Arthur has never felt the weight of his crown as heavily as he does now, in this life. While having Anna with them and being able to complete the Circle for the first time since Camelot is an advantage Arthur cannot discount in the battle to come, the odds are certainly not in their favor. Not with an enemy who seems to always be always one step ahead. Not when the trust Arthur and the others have built over lifetimes together is dissolving beneath lies and secrets.
The Circle is faltering, and Mordred’s increasingly bold attempts against them are pushing them to the breaking point. If they can’t return to their former strength—back to the stuff of legends—to defeat the powerful Magical, someone may pay the ultimate price before the final battle even begins.
Content Warning: This book contains mentions and depictions of self-harm and suicide.
Okay, so I think that’s it for all the book news – for now, anyway. I’ll have two new releases coming up in October, but more on those later! But, for now, get reading! This stuff is awesome!
“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” Kylie demanded.
“Manners, Kylie,” he mother said.
Hollis rolled her eyes at her cousin. She would have thought that maybe…just maybe, Kylie would have outgrown her overblown sense of entitlement. Nope. She was just as much of a bitch as ever. And her aunt was just as ineffective as ever, too.
The lawyer glanced at the rest of the assembled family members then shrugged. “Your grandmother wanted you to have it.”
The lawyer continued discussing the rest of their grandmother’s assets with Hollis’ aunt, uncle, and parents while Kylie glared at him. When she got nowhere with that, she turned her scowl on her sibling and cousin and stalked over to stand in front of them. She looked at the boxes in Emily’s hands. “I can’t believe you got her china and her cameo.”
“Get over yourself, Ky,” Emily muttered. “You got her engagement and wedding rings. And her diaries and that key.”
Hollis shrugged. “You are the oldest. Those are the sorts of things that get passed down to the oldest. Keeper of the family history and all that.”
Kylie stared at Hollis’ inheritance. Longingly stared at Hollis’ inheritance. “I’d rather have the pearl necklace and bracelet set and the and diamond earrings.”
“Are you…pouting?” Hollis asked.
Kylie shook her head. “No. Of course not. God, you’re so stupid.” But she didn’t take her eyes off the jewelry.
Hollis stared at her cousin. She and Kylie had never really gotten along. To look at them, no one would even believe they were related–no one in the freshman dorm did, anyway. Hollis looked like a walking ad for Alterna-Chick Monthly and Kylie had the letters for the sorority she was pledging incorporated into her manicure. Hollis glanced down at her own chipped, midnight blue polish and cringed.
“Look, I’m probably never going to wear this stuff,” Hollis said. “Why don’t we just trade?”
“Well, if you’re not going to wear it, you should just give it to me.”
Hollis snorted. “Whatever, Kylie. See you around.” She turned toward the door.
“Wait. Give me the pearls and the earrings, and you can have the key and diary.”
Hollis turned around and noticed Emily was trying not to laugh. She and Em had never had that much in common, but they liked each other. Turning her attention back to Kylie, she said, “You can have the pearls or the earrings.”
Kylie’s mouth fell open, but before she could protest, Emily said, “It’s only fair, Ky. If you want both, give Hollis the rings, too. And quit being such a spoiled little bitch.”
Kylie’s head whipped toward Emily like a velociraptor spotting its next meal.
The last thing Hollis wanted to do was get involved in a sisterly smackdown. “Kylie,” she said, pulling her cousin’s attention back to her. “What’s it gonna be? I’ve got to be to work at four, and it takes at least two hours to get back to campus.”
Kylie looked at the tiny rings in her hand then looked at the jewelry in Hollis’. “Fine,” she huffed. “The diamonds are bigger in the earrings, anyway.”
They made the trade, and Hollis slipped her grandmother’s rings on the middle finger of her right hand. The tiny diamonds and alexandrites glinted in the diffused light of the lawyer’s office. Lifting her hand, she waved to her family and the lawyer and headed out into the misty, spring rain.
Once she was safely in her car, she opened the diary, and a piece of paper fell out. She unfolded it and read the familiar handwriting that had gotten more spidery over the years.
If this book is still in Kylie’s possession, I’ll assume this note will never be read.
If this note is being read, I’ll assume it’s Hollis reading it.
A chill skated up the back of Hollis’ spine, and she looked back down at the piece of paper in her trembling hand.
Hi, honey. Good job trading with Kylie. At least, I assume that’s what happened.
The rules state that I had to pass the key down to the eldest born female, and since I had boys, that meant Kylie. However, what she chose to do with it after it was in her possession was up to her. She’s a sweet girl, but she never would have appreciated what you’re about to discover.
Hollis looked around. The rain was falling heavier and her car windows had fogged over. If it wasn’t for the occasional sound of tires rolling along the rain-wet pavement, she would have felt like she was utterly alone in the world. Heart thudding in her throat and eyes drawn back to the note from her grandmother, she continued to read.
I know you would have preferred a different university, but there’s a reason your grandfather and I insisted on paying for this one. You need to go to the basement of the library. Ignore all those signs about authorized personnel.
Once you’re down there, turn right and walk until you find a narrow hallway that says “no exit”. At the end of that hallway and behind the buckets and mops is an old cage front elevator. Take that as far down as you can go into the sub-basement.
When you get out, you’ll see seven doors, choose the one you feel most drawn to and open it with the key. Your life will never be the same.
Like most writers, I’m pressed for time to read, so in all honesty, I’ll read wherever I am when I have the time. If my iPad is in my purse, and I’m waiting in line at the grocery store, I’ll pull it out and read a page or two.
If I’m outside grilling, unless we’re in a hellish hurry, I’ll turn the heat down a bit, pull up a lawn chair and read in between flipping whatever I’m making.
The time I’m most likely to read is right when I go to bed. I like cwtching up under the covers with my iPad and reading. I do not, however, enjoy falling asleep while reading and smashing myself in the face with the tablet – particularly since it’s an old, super heavy gen 1. Those suckers leave bruises. But, I digress.
But here’s one of the places I regularly read. It’s my awesome backyard swing.
And here are some places I’d dearly love to read.
So where are your favorite places to read! Share! And check out the other bloggers favorite spaces!
I like that the topic of this post assumes that there’s an actual process as opposed to the chaos that is my existence.
My writing process, such as it is, goes a lot like this:
Step 1: Get a snippet of dialogue in my head.
Step 2: Figure out who’s saying it to whom and why.
Step 3: Imagine the rest of the scene.
Step 4: Write that shit down.
Step 5: Think about the characters in the scene and who else is part of their lives.
Step 6: Figure out what the main characters’ problem/issue/need/want/childhood trauma is.
Step 7: Get some more sort of vague, story-shaped ideas that might be incorporated at some point.
Step 8: Yell for the nearest family member to take notes for me because I’m probably in the shower when I thought of them.
Step 9: Think about what needed to happen prior to that first bit of dialogue that first popped into my head in order for that dialogue to occur in the first place.
Step 10: From there, come up with a reasonable starting place for the story and begin.
Step 11: Restart story at least two or three more times.
Step 12: Second guess myself and have some salt and vinegar chips.
Step 13: Write until I reach the spots I have notes for.
Step 14: Quick research anything that needs researching. If I don’t have internet, leave notes in the story that say things like: Internet this and find out if it’s a thing. If it’s not a thing, think of something else. (Actual note from first draft of upcoming Halloween story.)
Step 15: Flesh out the bits that are in note form and incorporate them into the story.
Step 16: Second guess myself some more and maybe make a smoothie. Or a cup of tea.
Step 17: Reach the halfway to three-quarter point, freak out because I don’t know what happens next, phone a friend and allow self to be talked off the ledge.
Step 18: Consider taking up tribal belly dancing or some other pursuit that will require hours of practice in order to avoid writing.
Step 19: Take a shower instead. Get more great shower ideas. Yell for help in note taking.
Step 20: Husband buys me a pile of waterproof notepads.
Step 21: Use the waterproof notepads. Giggle at the various notes the children have left in said waterproof note pads.
Step 22: Write and write and write, incorporating said shower ideas with random breaks for crippling self-doubt, tears and recriminations. Rinse and repeat as often as necessary.
Step 23: Finish the fucking book.
Step 24: Stare blankly at the computer. Save furiously and repeatedly. Wonder if I’m really actually finished.
Step 25: Walk away from it for a while once it’s complete.
Step 26: Imagine there are glaring plot holes.
Step 27: Try not to think about them.
Step 28: Read and self-edit.
Step 29: Experience moments of pleasant surprise because I didn’t remember writing x, y, or z, and hey, that’s actually pretty good.
Step 30: Experience moments of “what the actual merciless fuck” because I didn’t remember writing that, either.
Step 31: Finish edit and freak out, because I’m convinced everyone will hate the book.
Step 32: Send to my editor. Freak out, because I’m convinced she’ll hate the book.
Step 33: Get edit back from editor, do edits, and discover editor usually loves book.
Step 34: Start the whole process all over again.
So…that’s usually the way it goes down more or less. I’m always in awe of (and a little afraid of) the people who have color coded notecards pinned to their walls and know every scene of their from beginning to end. I’m more of a discover it as I go kind of girl. I sometimes know a few major plot points/shower ideas, and I’m often delightedly surprised at the things that crop up between those bits.
I know my process is not for everyone. I wish I could actually plot like a normal person. My friend, Alex, texted me a picture a few weeks ago of note cards that she was moving around in an effort to reorder her plot. My response was, “So *that’s* what plotting looks like.”
And I admit, sometimes I need to play Literary Jenga and move bits and pieces of a scene or scenes around, but never before the book is done. And honestly? Never on paper. Always in the manuscript using Track Changes.
But pretty much…this is as organized as I get.
Not sure if I’ll have company from the other bloggers this week, but if so, you’ll be able to click on their links below.
About a million years ago, I worked in the proofreading department of a large company. One of the of the signs on the wall in the documentation area said: ANY NOUN CAN BE VERBED.
It was pretty much my favorite thing ever.
Today, I’ve proved that adage to be true, because I’ve just Stevie Nicksed the hell out of this tambourine for my niece’s birthday.
Yes, this is what she requested.
(Photo of Stevie Nicks included for tambourine reference purposes.)
