Cars in My Manuscript

Don't you think it’s fairly reasonable that a person who spent over 15 years doing automotive advertising would have cars in her manuscript? If you said yes, well then read on and if you said no, well you're probably right because the cars don't really move my plot forward on the story superhighway.Cars are just a small personal luxury I've added to make things more  realistic. Besides, aren't you suppose to write what you know? These models are not actually mentioned, but reference is made to raindrops on windshields, rent a cars, crashes, etc. In fact, it seems automobiles are popping up all over the place.

I’ve blogged a little bit about Penniless Hearts and since I’m always afraid of giving too much away, I think that the car is a nice way to get to know my characters without divulging too much information. So fasten your seat belts and let's go....

My main character Penny drives a faded old Volvo in need of new windshield wiper blades.

The woman she works with is Tina who drives her boyfriend Darin’s car. Darin owns a few car dealerships. Here are Tina’s wheels.

Penny’s dad drives a giant Oldsmobile from the seventies. A classic gas-guzzler.

Her boyfriend John drives a truck for his carpentry business. It’s a regular small truck like this....

The pilot rents the nicest car at the airport.

Alevina, the Hawaiian family man about to have a holiday luau drives up in one of these:

The hamburger guy has a filthy Honda with a loud stereo.

Later on, we need some more rental cars.

Penny gets a Sentra.

The petrologist and her husband are driving a white sedan like this:

Glenn the reporter is driving a black Hyundai.

What kind of vehicles do you have in your book?

Parsnips and Pet Peeves

Pet Peeves

My friend Norma Beishir asked me about Pet Peeves and since I just wrote 500 of them for a twitter site, I have a sampling of a few fresh ones still in my mind. Find out about Norma’s Pet peeves at Windchaser’s Journey.

Please spread the good word about delicious parsnips.

My stomach’s growling and I’m out with my skinny friends, but no one is saying anything about lunch.
Getting an immediate email confirmation for a package, that doesn’t even arrive for three weeks.

That miserable sack sitting in his car as if he has all day when there are no other parking spaces.
Like when I’m printing something important and our printer runs out of ink on the last page.

The horrible sound of packing tape, squeaking like a wretched mouse caught in a fishhook.

The waitress who stops to ask how your food is when it’s obvious you just took a big bite.

Those swirly bulbs that are definitely not as bright as regular Edison style bulbs.
Women who are in their 80’s or 90’s and think they should dress as if they’re 19.

Short dresses that don’t go at least to my knees. (Just my thing.)

Supermarket employees who have no idea what a parsnip is.
Having to pee right when the movie is getting good.

Those plus-sized catalogs full of skinny models.
White Yellow pages are very confusing.
Teflon pans that stick--they really suck.
Typos in newspaper headlines.

Condescension.

Bitter coffee.
Laziness.

The fly. 

Focusing on My Reader

Okay, let’s play doctor. No, not that kind of doctor!!

You don’t need to be a psychologist to see that my last post reflected on personal issues regarding my desire to please and seek acceptance. Nonetheless, there is a lesson there that I deal with every day—pleasing my reader. Unfortunately, I start forgetting about my audience and who I'm writing to....I fall into my, "I just want to please everyone mode" which surprise, surprise--doesn't actually please everyone. I want the publishers, the agents, my friends and my family all to love what I write, but it doesn't always work that way. Life might have been a love-fest in the sixties, but alas, those days are gone. Friends, for example, who are waiting for underworld creatures to take over the hemisphere,while bloody corpses are dropping off the face of the Earth, will not care much for my account of a kiss at the Kauai airport between a pilot and a graphic artist. No huge amounts of blood, no fangs and no steam powered locomotives rushing in to save the dying citizens. Though there are readers who want to hear about my characters, those folks might make up a smaller, thinner slice of my overall media pie. Remaining focused on my characters and my plot is hard enough without altering my story just so I can get a larger share of readers. Just so everyone can love me. Dang, I hope you're not a doctor. Maybe my next story or my next book will be written for  the other readers, but meanwhile I have to wrap my head around the fact that I can't get approval from everyone with my first novel. Longing for reassurance, I have to stay true to the people who really matter in the world of publishing--READERS! But, do I know who they might be?

I’ll just lie down on this couch right here, while you pretend you’re my doctor giving me advice.

Make Someone Smile with Popovers

     Since I never hung around the kitchen much as a kid and I never really listened to my mom’s homemaking advice or helped too much when it came to learning about cooking, everyone in the family figured I would have to grow up and have my own chef or something. Cooking and baking when I can be out singing with the birds in the trees or writing poetry? My culinary skills kind of began and ended with delectable mud pies and the occasional burned popcorn I’d make for our street carnival. Yes, I organized the street carnival and recruited everyone to sing, dance or tell jokes. My little brother did a great John Wayne impersonation. If they didn’t want to do those things, they could come to the petting zoo and see the spotted dog or the black-nosed rabbit. After that, they could play the games we set up like throwing basketballs into trashcans and they could drink my Kool-Aid and suffer through the popcorn. Needless to say, it was rather shocking when I turned eighteen and wanted to start baking to impress my mom.  

She’d hear clanging and banging and smell trial and error situations where smoke filled the tiny kitchen, wafting out towards the rest of the house. Suddenly, she’d hear me singing and knew there might be some progress being made. Finally, I’d place my confection in front of the whole family and everyone was about to take a taste. No one will ever know how deeply I wanted to please--I almost heard the drum roll before the first bite. Chewing and chewing, loud chewing filled the silence and I realized something might be wrong. Everyone was afraid to make eye contact and my mother looked at my dad who liked anything, as long as it was sweet. He smiled at me and said, “It’s delicious,” which of course it wasn’t and mom said, “The kitchen is in shambles, don’t you think she better go clean it up?” My brother snickered and finally my sister came to the rescue saying, “I’ll help her clean up.”

So my quest began and a few times, I think something I baked as a thirty year old, actually made my mother smile. I think we all live to see our mother’s smile and so here I present you with a foolproof recipe for something that tastes and looks fancier than it really is with the hope that you can make someone smile.

 Spring Popovers

Spray a large muffin pan with cooking spray.

Do not preheat the oven.

Mix 1 cup unbleached flour

1-cup milk

2 eggs

2 egg whites

Wonderful with jam and butter!

2 tablespoons sugar

1-tablespoon lemon juice

2 teaspoons grated lemon rind

Dash of salt.

Mix everything together in a large bowl. Whisk until smooth.

Pour batter into pan and place into oven. Set it to 450-degrees.

After 15 minutes, reduce heat to 350 degrees.

Bake another 35 minutes or until they are crusty brown.

Serves six. Easy huh?

(By the way, these can also be split in half and filled with cream and berries for cream puffs.)

A Little Verse for my Creative Friends

You are like an early summer day, surprising everyone in the South with a preview of coming attractions.
Your heart bubbles like those giggles coming over the fence where children play Marco Polo in the pool.
Beating like flip-flops on concrete,
You are the fun new neon beach tote with the fresh towels, suntan lotion and lunch.
Your joy varies like the colors of sand particles trapped between your toes.
Boundless for now like the balmy breeze pushing up and emitting your deepest inspiration—
You take a light shoulder wrap for evening over that strapless dress that falls easily to the floor—or just as easily runs laughing from the room.
Why would you succumb to anything just yet?
Wait until August or maybe the end of September when all the beach chairs are full and the crowd knows about you. They want every morsel, every memorable moment filled with your essence and that’s when you know you are timeless. They luxuriate and think everything will continue and you know that it will, because there’s a lot more inside of you waiting to get out.

From Google Picasa photo albums

Five Questions to Ask On Your First Date (Part 2)

Gentlemen, just like I promised, here are some important questions you might want to get out of the way on your first date. Although love is blind, it might be a good idea to side with caution. Can you handle this kind of woman? Each answer would be from a different type of date and every one of these could be that proverbial red flag.
(Personal note to my lady friends: If you are asked these questions on the first date, just change the subject.)

1.       What’s your favorite store?

a.       The corner gas station store where I buy my super-sized cheese nachos and Big Gulp sodas.

b.      Neiman Marcus

c.       Bev Mo has a huge selection of wine, beer and Jagermeister.

2.       How many shoes do you own?

a.       Wow, that’s a tough one. *Guilty sounding laugh*Never thought of counting them—hmm—because of the color-coded filing system I devised. It corresponds perfectly to the Pantone color chart.*Swallows* Let’s see, there are about 1300 solid colors, 150 pastels, 56 neon and 600 metallic-- sandals and boots are separated for comfort and heel heights. The idea for my unique tracking system came to me after a vacation where I went zip lining above the Amazon River. It's a specially engineered mechanism that works with gears and pulleys that I rigged up for my footwear. *giggles*Right now I’m designing a special App that allows me to push a button on my cell phone and the shoes appear  right next to my bed.*Completely out of breath* I guess I have a lot of shoes, but think of it this way—I don’t have any pets.

b.      Just army boots and my Doc Martens of course. They come in handy for kicking ass.

c.       Why would you ask that question, are you a communist?

3.       Do you enjoy cooking?

a.       No, are you a chef?

b.      Funny you should ask, I just exploded something in my microwave.

c.       Oh yes, I just bought the Paula Dean cookbook.

4.       Since you’re such a busy, working woman, do you think you’ll want a family someday?

a.       Well you know I’m pretty busy so I guess that depends on your lackadaisical schedule and your finances. Of course, how much time you are willing to invest in raising kids makes a big difference too.

b.      We need kids to inherit our business and workers' comp insurance is killing my bottom line-- the extra labor will come in handy. Besides, when we’re old coots, our own little weasels will be changing our adult diapers.

c.       I don’t think you’ll want kids once you meet my family. It’s kind of risky with the gene pool and all--know what I mean?

5.       Have you ever heard of Swiffer?

a.       Is she on that television show about the Jersey Shore?

b.      Do you need one? When’s your birthday?

c.       No, I don’t have that App on my iPhone.

Oh and by the way...
 why don’t you look anything like your Matchbox.com picture?

Five Questions To Ask on Your First Date

I thought I’d come up with some questions for all you ladies who are dating.

Make sure you ask these questions on the first date. Be careful, any of these answers should raise a red flag. A big one. I’m sure he’s cute and all, but if you get any of these answers, you might want to reconsider that second date.

1.       Do you floss?

a.       What do you mean exactly?

b.      Never, that stuff gets expensive—besides these are false anyway.

c.       Yeah, when I run out of clean underwear.

2.       What’s your idea of a romantic dinner?

a.       I get rid of the roommate.

b.      I don’t use a coupon for dinner, and we go for a 2 for 1 bowling special.

c.       Who cares as long as you’re doing the cooking?

3.       How many kids do you have?

a.       Oh, she tried to frame me, but the DNA test came out fine.

b.      Two in California….

c.       From which wife?

4.       What line of work are you in?

a.       I plan to become an investor as soon as I get my hands on some money.

b.      Are you hiring?

c.       Baby, together we can do anything.

5.       Let’s discuss protection. When the time comes, will you be prepared?

a.       Definitely, my gun’s in the glove box.

b.      From what?

c.     Big time. On my way over I picked up a huge super-sized box of 500 at the warehouse store.

Oh and by the way, why don’t you look anything like your Matchbox.com photo?

Don’t worry gentlemen—next time we’ll cover questions to ask on your first date.

I Can't Make This Stuff Up!

I’m convinced that truth is funnier than fiction. I mean who could make up the stuff that happens every day in the news? The bungling burglars or people smuggling endangered turtles in their pants?

Please don't put me in your pants.
 I'm endangered and this is my home! Help!

 Do we laugh at the created worlds that science fiction novelists invent or are we awe-inspired at their creative audacity? I mean why would anyone bother making up a world when God has done such a fine job with this one? (I'm kidding  fantasy writers--keep up the good work!) Meanwhile however, The Almighty has even blessed the humor writers with enough ink cartridges and material to keep laughter flowing from millennium to millennium. Isn’t life grand or at least comical?

Painful Example:

I was nineteen and had been dating my boyfriend over a year. We met in English class and well everything seemed to be about poetry and interconnected souls. One spring day he got down on his knees and handed me an ornate little box with ribbons. OMG, I thought. My dreams were coming true. He stared into my eyes with a burning intensity and then I opened the lid. Inside was a tiny note that said, “April Fools!”

Factual Example:

Did you know there’s a Phallological Museum in Iceland that gets over 6,000 visitors every summer? Yes, it’s what you think it is and if you don’t have a clue please go back to watching SpongeBob.

Memorable Example:

When my dad sold his big, gas-guzzling Lincoln Continental, he had one fellow who came and haggled about the price. My dad showed him all the nice features, the leather seats and everything, but the only question this buyer had was, “How many people could fit in the trunk?”

Recent Funny stuff:

My guest called the day after visiting. I thought, how sweet, she’s calling to tell me she enjoyed the lunch I made, or simply to thank us for our hospitality. Nope. She actually called to ask in a very serious tone, what brand toilet paper I have in my guest bathroom. I’m sorry, but I actually fell on the floor from my convulsive, heaving laughter.

Then last week:

My husband came home from Costco with a skort. Yup, it’s what you think it is and for those of you, who don’t know, it’s a skirt and shorts combo made for athletic women who golf, play tennis and have awesome looking legs. Not me. At any rate, he’s hauling in the giant box of milk, yogurt, cereal and bread and finally he shows me my present. The skort. I don’t know-- it felt weird yet strangely humorous on so many levels. I guess you had to be here.

Yesterday:

I needed ½-cup sour cream for a recipe and again he’s at Costco. Fortunately, he calls and asks if a three-pound tub would be all right. “No, dear it wouldn’t. Please come home-NOW!” So he bought bagels and cream cheese instead. Three pounds of cream cheese.

Anyway, until next time—remember life is funny, so keep smiling.

Satisfying Readers Wanting Your Low Mileage Cream Puff!

Anyone Can Be Number One!

For many, many years I did automotive advertising and even the smallest little piss-ant dealership wanted to be number one in something. Fortunately, some of the small ones would work on something called CSI scores or customer satisfaction index. If their scores were high, they could say they were number one in customer service. The big mega dealer down the street would always advertise that they were number one in selection because the cars were filling up every available parking space and then there were the regular sized dealerships advertising that they were number one in price--fighting out a "price war."This usually got a little touchy because everyone, wanted to have the best prices. Finally, there was the physically largest dealership that could say that they were number one, because they had more square feet than any other dealership. Plenty of parking, selection but the prices were typically higher because they had a more expensive light bill and more overhead.

The dealer's weren't lying,
 they were always on a mission
to be number one in something.

From what I can tell about the book publishing business, things are not much different. Bestseller means different things to different people. Is the book a N.Y. Times bestseller that’s been on the bestseller lists for a year like The Hunger Games? Is the book on U.S.A. Today’s bestseller list? Oprah’s book club? Amazon’s bestseller list? Is it a bestselling e-book? Did it win an award? Number one Romance? Number one Steam Punk? Was it a gothic/paranormal bestseller on Tuesday, floating back down to four hundredth today? In other words, I’m convinced that your book can be a bestseller if it’s marketed correctly and YOU can be number one just like the piss-ant little dealership down the street. Even if only for one day.

(For argument’s sake, let’s put a lack of confidence or poor writing skills aside.) The new genres open up many new options and will help steer your book into the proper slot for success. The key is a commitment to your own product which happens to be your novel.  If you can advertise and  market your book like a business, you're bound to be successful.You wrote it, which means you can probably do your own marketing, but if you can’t or don’t have the time, there are many companies, agents and publicists available to promote your creativity.

The point is: books are not big mechanical sleds that take up inordinate amounts of space, pollute and continually drain budgets. Most of us will write books whether we become number one or not, it’s just something we have to do. Worrying about the “business” aspect of writing may even harm our creativity, but that doesn’t mean we forget about the reader, that one person or millionth person who reads our book and feels a mysterious connection to our words. Stieg Larsson is on bestseller lists ever since he died. He certainly doesn’t care about being number one. Define your goals. What do you feel is important? Your writing is a piece of your soul. Treat it with respect. Honor it and remember that with a little inventive marketing, almost anyone can be number one. 

Having said all this, I’m still working on issues regarding my own manuscript. Don't forget my marketing experience dealt with cars. What I do know is: that if I keep trying to write the best I can and keep learning the craft, my confidence will improve and then a wonderful thing will happen. Someone will want to read my story. Every reader is like gold and with any luck, a positive notch in our CSI.

Vegas Baby!

Have any of you been to Vegas lately? Talk about visual overload! Trust me--if you haven’t been to sin city since Elvis and the Rat Pack were crooning across from each other on the strip, you’re in for a surprise. Even the last ten or even five years have seen incredible changes in the city of glitz and glamor. I happen to live only about 230 miles away and try to get over there at least once a year. Besides the penny slots, I want to bring myself up to date on a very exciting party town which throbs with throngs of happy revelers and families intent on having a great time. There are many new sights to see, amazing stores, roller-coasters, newly invented cocktails, restaurants and of course games to play. Not everything is about buffets or gambling. In fact, there are fun low cost or free things to do with your family or loved ones all over town. Here are my top five favorites:

Guilt maybe, but boredom?--Not in this town!

1. The M&M store. They have a whole store dedicated to just the M&M candies. M&M logos with little M&M characters grace everything from coffee cups to shower curtains. Great prices on cute little souvenirs—by great prices, I mean less than that round of roulette you played the previous evening.

2. The Shark Reef Exhibit at The Mandalay Bay Resort is incredibly well done and a must see. Great white sharks and hammerheads are swimming in an aquarium right above your head! There is a cover charge but again this is going to be a more memorable way to spend twenty dollars per person, while that black jack game might be something you want to put out of your mind—quickly.

3. The free Lion habitat at The MGM Grand is definitely a cat lover’s dream. Big cats eat, play and lounge around behind walls of glass right inside the lobby of the MGM. They spend six hours in this gloriously comfortable enclosure and then are shipped home to their actual sanctuary.

4. The free fountains in front of The Bellagio start dancing to beautiful music in a mesmerizing display of dynamic energy, where water is thrusting and shooting up, up, up and then falling with the rhythms of classical or modern show tunes.

5. I haven’t seen the latest Pirate show, but they do have a free family style show right outside Treasure Island, on the strip where Buccaneer ships, cannons and all kinds of sword fights ensue. When I saw it, the English sank the pirate ship right in front of me! Yeah!


Doesn't it sound like fun?

Judging Spring's Perfect Performance

Spring Talent-“An Actual Love Letter”



I felt like Simon Cowell or Paula Abdul, listening to the song and then it changed getting better and better. Seconds later, another contestant jumped right in, starting a new song and pretty soon, a chorus of unbelievably talented musicians paraded above me, hidden in the spring foliage. A tender but warm breeze made the yellowest daisies pirouette under the blueberry cream sky and I noticed a fluttering butterfly intent on camouflaging into the annuals under a pomelo tree where a hummingbird reached into a blossom with his long, skinny but miniature beak.

Orchestrated to be the ideal day for a walk, under variegated clouds spewing thermal humidity, the weather gently hinted about the approaching summer. Sooner to us than the rest of the world, some of those cucumber-green colored blades will fade to honey-colored sand, and most of those singers will fly north to cooler climes. Steep competition, almost impossible to judge, reminded me that the pageant of spring will fade like an empty stage, becoming our quiet luxuriating summer. Meanwhile, I will remember this walk, not so much, because it was picture-perfect—but because, you were holding my hand.

Rainbows in The Desert?

Suspicious Greenery

Above a valley near a magical grove,
Where a poet grew her words.
Lived a tiny man,
In a charming home,
That shook with the song of the birds.

One day the poet ventured forth
From her lonely, humble cave—
To see what made the fertile grove
Green as the ocean’s wave.

Rain as rare as diamonds--
Enchantment blessed growing stems—
Inspiration climbed so tall--
It needed oxygen.

An angel told the poet,
About the man in the dreamy glen
“Be brave,” she said,
“He’s not like other men.”

Knocking on the little door
Her heart began to pound.
Other than the rain,
She didn’t hear a sound.

“I’m getting wet, open the door,”
Echoed against mountainous rocks-
A rainbow appeared behind her
When she shook the golden locks.

“Get away lass,
You’re making me insane.
My pot of gold is hiding—yonder,
Where I create the rain.”

“You create?” She laughed,
Looking into heaven’s cloud,
“The Almighty does it, you bumbling fool,”
She actually said aloud.

“Get lost,” he barked in his Gaelic brogue—
Swinging open the door in a blink,
Her eyes in shock, facing wrath,
Slippers glued, her cheeks felt pink.

Short and full of fury,
Wee cocked hat on his head,
Golden vase under his arm,
This is what he said:

“Aye, poetess from the desert rocks,
Why d’ya come to find me?
Now I must go somewhere else,
Where naught others be.

Are ye daft about finances?
Rainbows multiply during rain--
The lushest valley gave me away,
Damn desert flowered like the devil’s flame.”

He left in a huff and never looked back--
Though petals wept, wildflowers grew.
Amid shifting sands and migrating hope,
Life finally began to bloom anew.

Arid yet still divine,
Stars sparkling in the night,
Everything is as is should be,
Everything is right.

Above a valley of cacti and citrus groves—
Heat rises in a towering echelon-
There lives a poet in her home--
Once belonged to a leprechaun.






Eve Gaal
Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Little Green Beans

Every week, I work with third graders and we practice the words they accidentally stumble upon while reading. I make them flash cards with the word on one side and a sentence on the other side. (I am not a teacher, just a volunteer in a literacy program.) This sentence is something we both create together. For example, if the word is “kind,” then I ask them if they know someone who is kind. When they say their mother is kind, I write on a 3x5 card: “My mother is kind.” Of course, if the word is “huge,” we never, ever, mention their mother and I'm secretly worried those doe eyes are hiding the obvious sentence, "The volunteer lady is huge." Holding my arms apart I ask, "What is this?" To which they reply, "Big." Good, but this word is huge and when I point to the word they say, "Huggie."  Remember "cute?" Yes, they smile and I tell them to say the u in the same way. Finally, we have success.

 Yesterday, we had the perfect word for March. The word was "green,"  and we were reading a  book titled,“Green Beans and Other Silly Poems.” My personal challenge was trying to describe the difference between a familiar pinto bean and the strange long green bean that is somewhat rare around here. Obviously, the fact that the ee sound is exactly like the ea sound in certain words didn’t make things any easier. 

Unfortunately, they rarely study their little cards because family life and fun get in the way. Third grade is full of fabulous cool stuff and actually, I don’t blame them. I mean come on, by the time they grow up, not only will they have spell check, but also word recognition programs that will make people like me obsolete. You’re reading a book? Ha-ha, ha! You’re writing with a pen? That is hilarious. Well, I always wanted to make people smile, but maybe not laugh at me.

 Anyway, the point is that even adults make mistakes and we're never too old to brush up on our spelling. Not really meant as a test, I thought I'd share some common difficulties.

1.       Which is the correct spelling?

a.       Counterfeit

b.      Counterfit

c.       Countierfet

2.       Which word is misspelled?

a.       Judgment

b.      Handkerchief

c.       Cordoroy

3.       Are these all correct or should they all be two words?

a.       A lot

b.      Already

c.       All right

4.       The ‘I before E’ rule can be confusing. Which one is wrong?

a.       Freight

b.      Ceiling

c.       Counterfiet

                                         

5.       One more time—which one is spelled wrong?

a.       Cemetery

b.      Lucubration

c.       None of the above

6.       Which word means 'you’re exceptionally smart?'

              a. Genealogical

              b. Genius

              c. Genocidal

              d. Gentry

              e. Genus

Aren't we lucky we have spell check?

Dangerous Career Options in My Spam File or Facing Rejection With Humor

   

      Thank God, I have choices, albeit some more dangerous than others. Searching for an escape from the throbbing headache caused by one too many rejection letters, I found myself actually fishing through my spam file before deleting it. Chock full of opportunities, like how to obtain my Pharmacy Assistant Program certificate or training to be a massage therapist or a police officer. How lucky can I get? Who are these people who judge me and think I’d make a great police officer? Do they read my posts and go, "Yeah, she’ll never make it. Better send Miss Shakespeare our ‘Start immediately’ email now."
      Did I accidentally submit my latest story to the wrong place? No wonder, I never got a reply. One quick glance at my writing and they looked at each other and said, “Yup, she’d make a great masseuse.” After all, I did type an entire 80,000-word manuscript several times. Does that mean my fingers could learn to do Shiatsu and deep tissue massage?

      Maybe it happened the day I sent off my query letter to the agent who wrote she liked the writing but she would pass on my project. Maybe pass means alert the spammers? Don’t you think it’s coincidental these vocational schools are sending me spam ever since? Wiretaps? Eavesdropping devices? When the hackers see the code word ‘pass’, that’s it--open season, baby. Can’t you just imagine these recruiters sitting at their computers, laughing their gonads off?

      “Here’s another one George. She thinks she wants to be a writer!”

     “Don’t they all? Wait, look the dumb ass wrote some mystery book, I guess she wants to solve crimes.”

     “Send her the Police Academy email, the masseuse email and the Pharmacy Assistant training and let her pick. We’ll inundate her until she finally caves. It’s like being on the bottom of a slush pile honey-- except we’re right here on the top of yours! Ha, ha, ha.”

     “That’s funny George--remember when you wanted to be a writer?” At this, both of them burst into hysterical convulsions.

       Why a Pharmacy Assistant? Perhaps it’s a trap set up specifically for despondent writers? Don't they know even Gone With The Wind was rejected 38 times? Do they think I need substances to keep me focused on my goals and dreams? Is this a way of gently insinuating I might need Prozac and Zoloft as a means to an end? Even the world’s best writers were self-medicated or inebriated and they didn’t get offers for Pharmacy Assistance certification.(Maybe they did.) Those poor old pharmacists don't want soulful, angst ridden assistants who stay up late writing every night. Will the pharmacy give me a discount or will I resort to sneaking pills home from the supply cupboards, so I can stay awake, subsequently getting arrested, taken to jail, and then finally writing my memoirs from behind bars? Maybe I’m delusional, but I can almost hear the excitement of the agent reading the query letter. “No, it’s not chick lit. She’s writing from San Quentin or something, I can’t wait to sign her!”

Yes, that's me visiting
 Al Capone's cell.
 Perhaps a good place
 for writing memoirs.

      Too bad, I prefer fiction, over personal autobiographies and diaries.  

    

     Meanwhile, spam is still spam and I refuse to give up. Sorry, you late night spam stalkers, but if you have nothing better to do than send me your ‘exciting opportunities’ for advancement, enhancement, improvement and development, you might as well forget about it.  I’m staying undeveloped, unenhanced and my manuscript will (for now) unfortunately, remain unpublished. 

My February Musings

Some of my random thoughts....
(Sat down with a pad and a pen yesterday--this is what came out.)

You only have one heart,

But

It gets recharged nightly.

If he doesn’t like dancing

But

Loves holding your hand—dance with your heart.

A promise is nothing

Unless

You believe it.

Flummoxed and flabbergasted--
You're my friend,
Even knowing my foibles.

Limitations seem to pop up around attitudes.

Serve your gifts generously

But

Don’t take seconds.

Diamond-like--

Multifaceted, self-respecting

Quality, clarity and brilliance—

Sparkled from your heart.

Everyone noticed.

Enjoyable Bestsellers!

Books I've Been Reading

The Sweet Potato Queens’ Book of Love
by Jill Conner Browne

Hilarious book about using the old-fashioned feminine mystique in the Southern inspired way to find happiness and love along the parade route called life. Worth a read for the recipes alone—“Fat Mama’s Knock You Naked Margaritas,” a chocolate caramel pie she calls, “Oh God!” and “Danger Pudding.” One of my favorite funny parts is about a lady who works at a chicken processing plant plucking chickens all day, standing next to a conveyor belt. When asked if she was bored with her seemingly grueling job, she brightly answers, “Oh no. You get a brand new chicken every thirty seconds!” Now if that isn’t inspiring, what is?

The Man in My Basement by Walter Mosley

Fascinating, psychological power struggle between two men, with very different backgrounds and racial ethnicities who faceoff due to needs that neither one wants to admit. Grappling with personal demons and searching for the answers to their own dilemmas in a dark house, the basement is the stage for mentally charged, hands-free fighting. If you want to read a National Bestseller that is completely out of the ordinary, then this might be the book for you.

Silent Night by Mary Higgins Clark

A New York Christmas story with non-stop action that will have you hoping everything works out in time to open the presents. When Brian disappears from crowded Rockefeller Center, we are suddenly reminded how quickly things can take a turn for the worse. Easy reading and great characters will have you finishing this short book rather quickly.

Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert

Miss Gilbert took off for a year to explore Italy, India and Bali on her own terms so she could write the quintessential memoir from her personal, humorous perspective. I enjoyed this book --listening to her write about God’s transcendence, and how she went to Italy to feed her body and then she went to India to feed her soul and Bali to feed her heart—something still makes me think she seeks even more contentment and fulfillment to nourish her completely, giving her the strength and curiosity needed for three new countries, thus a sequel.

I Love My Followers

Why I Love My Followers

There seems to be a lot of stuff out in the blogosphere about the actual practice and science of blogging. As in, why do you blog? Why do you stop reading blogs and how do you create better blogs? I think reading stuff like that is informative but certainly not titillating. Interesting and intellectual rather than stimulating, risky and fun. It’s like going to the library and choosing between “Elements of Style” or “The Poems of Emily Dickinson.” It’s the difference between Writer’s Digest and People Magazine. (Sorry Writer’s Digest, I love that magazine and subscribe to it) It’s like reading the directions on how to play Monopoly rather than playing the actual game. Yawn.

 While I certainly can’t say I have the best blog in the universe, I know readers crave entertaining, original content. Readers don’t want a diary of our misery. They want something that inspires them to do better or they want to laugh with you or at you. Readers love to learn new things, but not in a preachy style. Readers have brains and that’s what makes them want to follow good blogs!

 Someone once told me they spent over an hour reading my old posts and I felt so flattered when they could have been Para-gliding or reading Goethe. Out of all their options, they chose to read my blog. Wow. Lately my views are up over 2,000 views a month from all around the world and all I’m doing is trying to create imaginative posts. Thank you for following me, I really appreciate it. 

Blogs Are Like A Box of Chocolates

With Valentine’s Day around the corner, I know we all have one thing on our mind:

Chocolate!!

So since reading my favorite blogs and chocolate go hand in hand, I thought I should share my secret stash—because like mama Gump always said, “You never know what you’re going to get.”
Take a taste of this fine selection by clicking on the words above
 the photos but don't forget to come back and comment!

Smooth and creamy

Sweet and nutty

Fruity but delightful

Oozing with flavor

Rich and gooey

Tart and tangy

Surprising and crisp

Fresh and silky

Dark covered marzipan

Bold and brittle

Melts Your Heart

Quite a delightful array of mouthwatering choices, huh?

And if you need a gift, don’t forget My Funny Valentine—A humorous look at love and Valentine’s Day! (If you missed my review of this hilarious book, please take a look at my post from January 13th)