Showing posts from June, 2006


Ah, the joys of getting no damn sleep.

So, I worked until 3 a.m. last night. Great fun to be had by all, including bouncing about 30 drunks under the age of 25 (above 21, duh!) about fifteen minutes before closing. Then--hooray! Home to go to sleep.


I decided to write for a few minutes to try and wind down. That was four hours ago. The Muses are slavedrivers these days, forcing me to crank out new material at the rate of 8-12k per day. Absolutely ridiculous! On top of that, one of my cats has discovered a new game- yell at the kitten. He's been running around squalling at her for two hours. It doesn't matter how many shoes I throw at the little bastard, he's just not happy unless he's pissing me off.

Now, I'm too exhausted to write and relegated to playing Snood and ranting about life in my blog. Oh, happy happy joy joy (sorry Ren and Stimpy!)

The good news is that for the first time in three weeks, I have two days off back to back. Good god! What will …

Whew! Of Books, Magic, and Bitches

Wow, is my life busy these days! Too busy even to blog, which is quite odd since I rarely resist the opportunity to blow off steam.

The release date of Goddess' Revenge is September 15. I'm kind of glad it's a few months away (commitments piling up here) but then again I'm a little peeved as well. September 15th????? I have to go to the Tennessee-Florida football game that weekend! Damnit, now writing is going to interfere with FOOTBALL? No one warned me about THAT.

Plus, over at the Dragon's Den (my writing group), Chum had to pull out of developing the magic system so I took it on. I took his admittedly brilliant concept and developed the religion, mythology, and magic limitations from it. You know what? I LOVED IT! I've not had this much fun (creatively) in a long time. I may pay him to conceptualize my magic systems from now on--his ideas are so much more creative than mine that working with them was pure pleasure.

Then, to top it all off, there…

The Word For The Day is "Ack!"

Well, hell. After the Titanic (otherwise known as my computer) crashed, I have been operating on less-than-acceptable levels. For one thing, I now only have 40 gig of uncorrupted memory. (Thank god my books are stored on flash memory!) For another, unimportant little programs like Java are currently non-operational (gasp! how in the hell am I supposed to live without chat?) and I can't even get any of my messenger programs to work. I've had to downgrade to dialup (damn modem fried too) so everything is slllllllooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwww.

Could this have happened at a worse time? I don't think so.

So now, I'm trying to build a website, maintain the one I have already, and keep up with my mountains of daily correspondence while piecing together what remains of the hard drive and ordering the things I need to fix it. Jesus H. Christ! What else could happen?

(A word to the wise: never ask that question. It's like dangling a margarita in front of karma after it…

Let Sleeping Cats Lie

So, I'm in the process of restoring a fairly catastrophic loss on my computer. Thank god I have a flash memory stick because one of my hard drives completely FRIED.


So far, I've had to get a new hard drive, new RAM, a new sound card *grumble*, a new mouse (why I don't know) and I've had to reinstall unimportant little programs like, oh, I don't know-AOL, Java, Adobe, all the anti-virus crap, Wordperfect (are you freaking kidding me?) ad nauseum. It's a colossal mess and my mood reflects that.

Until now.

The kitten, who has been running at top speed since 3 a.m. has finally decided to take a nap. So, she crawled up into my lap and curled into a tiny purring ball, where I thought she might remain content for a while. Naturally, she didn't. After amusing herself for a while by gnawing on my wrists while I typed, she finally decided that of all the places in my office for a kitten to nap, the open lid of the printer was the most favorable. Of cou…

Waxing Philosophical

What a lovely day.

It's beautiful outside, a very comfortable 78 degrees with a nice breeze, and I actually took the afternoon off to work in my garden. It is small (but growing) and now that there is no apparent danger of frost (although this is Ohio so you never can tell) I decided to plant my summer flowers. A couple of years ago, I thought I could end all my gardening woes and just sow the whole thing with wildflower seeds.

The poppies were pretty. The thistles were not, once they grew to eight feet tall with spiky leaves.

So, a bottle of Roundup later, I opted for old-fashioned flowers like sweet peas and roses. I thought, if nothing else, it would smell good and still be kind of pretty. The result? A sweet-smelling bed of thistles, which miraculously survived the Roundup.

This year, I hired someone to clear the thistles from my flowerbed.

So, this morning, armed with little pots of flowers and seeds and *gasp!* even some mulch, I descended into my garden for some relaxing …

The Apocalypse--A Couple of Days Late

Okay, I can now freely admit that I have been laughing for weeks over 06-06-06. Everytime I saw a fundamentalist Christian expounding their views on the coming of the Antichrist and the aproach of Armageddon because of a date it was difficult for me to restrain my all-too-audible laughter. I distinctly remember a few years ago (about 20, actually) when a friend of mine was convinced that the Rapture was coming. She spent all day in a field waiting to ascend into Heaven with the rest of the righteous and was quite shocked that she had to creep back into the house, thoroughly chilled from a soaking rain, and continue life with all the rest of us sinners. I told her at the time that her greatest sin was presuming to know the will of God.

She didn't speak to me for six months, during which time I continued to sin quite happily and quite proficiently as an example to her holier-than-thouness.

At any rate, yesterday I was quite cheerfully occupied with laughing at the near-miss of the Apo…

Of Bird Poop and Other Things

There's a pair of swallows living in my garage.

They've come back every spring for three consecutive years. I named them Ozzie and Harriet just for giggles. When they turn up, they build their nest in the same spot: the corner right above the rail to the garage door. Last year, they hatched two sets of eggs over the course of the summer. It was kind of cool to look out when the baby birds were bigger and see five of them lined up on the garage door rail waiting patiently for their dinner.

This, year, however, the birds seem to have a poo problem.

I can't park my car in my own garage any more. On top of that, if I go into the garage to get relatively unimportant things like the lawn mower or flower pots, I am dive-bombed by Ozzie and Harriet. Yeah, I know: the mental image of me beating away a pair of swallows while fleeing from my own garage is humorous. It's like The Birds was cast by Hitchcock with midgets playing the birds. Last weekend, the great garage scrubo…

Haunted by my Mother

I've decided my mom isn't done with me yet. Ever since she passed away in December, I've sort of tinkered with the thought that maybe....just maybe....she's haunting me. Today, I reached definitive proof.

I received a call a few minutes ago from my publisher. It turns out that the contracts I sent to them were not only not signed (hunh?) but also that I'd sent a duplicate set with a different book title, et cetera on it.

Allow me to state for the record that I have consumed no hallucinogens in a very, very long time. That being said, what in the hell? Granted, occasionally I might *forget* to record a check in my checkbook, but forget to sign a book contract? For a two-book deal?

Not bloody likely.

Also, the alternate title for the book was something I'd never even considered, so how in the heck did it end up on the contract?

Pretty freaking weird.

A few other things have happened that lead me to this conclusion as well. Yesterday, after the auction, I sat …

A Long-Suffering Sigh

Isn't life grand? The whole plagiarism thing really got my blood pressure spiked last night--it's the one thing I cannot reconcile with posting work on the internet. Getting up every morning and googling your own titles or character names just to make certain some yabbo hasn't stolen it is beyond annoying. You know what's even more annoying?

How absolutely ridiculous some people are.

I read in the Dragon's Den yesterday about how joey (moderator at found one of her stories (just published in Quantum Muse) on this imbecile's blog, and how, consequently, Bibsy found one of hers as well. So, I went to check it out for two reasons: first off, I couldn't comprehend that someone was really that abyssmally stupid (stole stories and didn't even change the titles? come on, already!) and second, to see if there were any other stories I recognized. Naturally, I found a third theft....apparently this ignoramous only likes to steal from one ezine.

At any rate, …

Plagiarists, Tramps, And Thieves

Sorry, Cher. If I liked your music at all, I'd feel a moment of remorse for that title but at the moment I'm too damn mad.

I hate plagiarists. That's one of the major reasons I now belong to a private online writing group as opposed to a public one (well that and my damnable temper) but today (which already sucked--auction day) I discovered that my long-latent fuse can still be lit.

On this blog site, someone is posting other people's stories as their own. WHY? Can you answer me that? What kind of colossal moron do you have to be in the age of Google to post someone else's work as YOUR OWN and not even change the freaking title? Jesus H. Christ. Don't believe me? Check it out.

Any of it my work? No. Does it matter? No, it doesn't. Someone unscrupulous and stupid enough to steal a writer's work and try to pass it off as their own is lower than low, sort of like the buttheads who bilk little old ladies o…