Whew. And my next murder victim!
Well, it's been a flurry of a week, and I've heard from several of you that you are unable to post comments. I'm hoping that it's just a blip, since Blogger Help is less than easy to deal with; if it continues, please let me know, and I will brave the help people.
At any rate, this week has been very, very busy. I went to a marvelous book group (Mad About Mysteries) Tuesday, taught my mystery class Wednesday through Friday, and gave a brief talk at the Barbara Burnett Smith Aspiring Writers event today. I also officially received the first SAGE award, which is lovely, and of which yet another photo is languishing in my camera.
Must get iPhoto installed.
So I had a lovely afternoon at Barnes and Noble, talking with lots of friendly writers about the wonderful supportive spirit of mentoring. And after consuming a giant Caesar salad and a few dozen sugar cookies that Sara Ann kindly brought to the party, I went home and changed into sneakers. And then, at my husband's urging, I engaged in a soccer scrimmage for the first time since I was about nine.
Unfortunately, the other players have evidently done a bit more work on their soccer skills in the intervening years, so it was not exactly a confidence-boosting experience, despite my kind husband's insistence that I didn't do nearly as abysmally as he had expected.
On the bright side of things, I DID meet my next murder victim. (Fictional, of course. The murder will be, that is. Literary wish fulfillment, you could call it.)
Her name is... well, let's just call her Madge. (Short for Middle-Aged Dreadful Gorgon. Which would actually flow better as Dreadful Middle-Aged Gorgon, but the acronym wouldn't work.) Anyway, Madge has very definite ideas about who should and should not be allowed to play in lower-division co-ed recreational old-people's soccer. And -- you may have guessed this already -- in her (abundantly, vociferously, frequently expressed) opinion, I fall into the latter category.
I'm not saying I disagree with her. But she was so rude -- and I mean jaw-droppingly rude -- that after the initial shock wore off, my first impulse was, well, less than charitable.
Which is really not like me.
So I figure I'll keep showing up, if for no other reason to annoy her. And to pick up additional character quirks to incorporate into my next novel. If nothing else, I can always spend my time on the sidelines watching the kids and trying to figure out what to use as a murder weapon.
Heck, I may even spring for some cleats... and not just because Madge told me approximately 25 times that it was preposterous of me to even step out on the field without them, even though I wasn't the only one. (When I told her that my thought was to try the whole soccer thing out before dropping $20 or more on shoes I might never wear again, she sniffed and said I should have gone to Goodwill and bought smelly used ones. Again, kudos to me for exercising considerable self-restraint.)
But enough about Madge for now, although I'm sure I'll have more to say on that topic next week. Writing. I'm here to talk about writing, aren't I? And on that score, I am proud to announce that I am finally done with the rewrite, save for one steamy scene, and after rereading all 420 pages of my magnum opus tomorrow, I will send it off and resume work on the second book. Incidentally, last Friday, at Starbucks, I finished a scene, looked around at my compatriots, and said, "I don't know how your days are going, but I've had two orgasms in the last hour!"
Can you say awkward silence? :)
And even though writing steamy scenes is not my favorite activity (in the margin of every one, my editor wrote, "More detail would be fun"), it's getting to be easier. Particularly if you add a bit of humor in there. I doubt, however, that I will ever be in the same league as the erotic sci-fi writer I met at Romantic Times, whose aliens are blessed with... well, let's just say multiple endowments.
And you know what? I'm okay with that.
But enough about me. How are you?
And do you have any soccer tips for me? :)
12 Comments:
The only issue I've noticed with Blogger is that you *always* have to go through the word verification process twice. But once you've accepted that they always think you're wrong the first time you enter the letters, it works fine.
Oh, my. You should have taken a camera so you could take pix of the faces of those around you at Starbucks. Of course, then you'd have to install iPhoto....
My husband's family was staying with us this week, so I am exhausted and have nothing ot show for it!
You need to wear one of those t-shirts that reads, "Be careful what you say, or you may end up in my next novel." Har! CafePress sells one, but not as cool as Susan A.'s. I want one like that. And so do you. Do you think Madge can read? ;) Dani
I have to disagree that this site works well the second time. Last week I tried on two occasions to comment only to be told my password wasn't correct. On each of those two occasions, I tried 5 or 6 times. I finally had to go back to the original blog site and put all my info in again. Then I was told someone with my name and password already existed and to choose a new one. I can't believe I haven't given up yet. I did want to offer a tip for your love scenes. One of my very good friends (a long time Barnes & Noble employee) says she stops reading any book with a love scene with the word 'moist' in the text. She says it's TMI. That CRACKED me up. Whatever you do Karen, do NOT used 'moist'! Your friend, Melissa
I'd never thought about the use of the word "moist" in a love scene, but now that I have, I agree with Melissa. Don't use it. Incidentally, Karen's talk at the Sage awards was poignant and inspiring.
Helen
Laura,
Grr. Frustrating, isn't it? Would you guys prefer I switched it to where I moderate it? I'd leave it open, but some of the Spam comments are kind of yucky.
I'll bet you're exhausted. But you now have an in-law-free house to show for it, Laura! :)
And yes, one of these days you'll get a picture-riffic post. Just not yet. And I'll have to keep the camera handy for future pronouncements...
Dani,
That sounds fabulous. Who's Susan A.? The only Susan A. I know is Susan Albert...
And I'm over Madge. I've decided I'm just going to tell her if she can't be civil, she can talk to the hand. :)
Melissa,
I did a word search, and the word "moist" does not appear in that context.
I prefer to reserve that adjective for coffeecakes. :)
I'm so sorry you're having trouble commenting; I love seeing your comments.
If it doesn't get better, perhaps I'll switch to another venue...
How's the family, btw? And the business?
Helen,
It was wonderful to see you there, as always; and thanks so much for the kind words. I'm still not used to this whole public speaking thing. It's hard enough to do public writing, don't you think? Then they make you get up and talk about it. :)
Thanks a ton... and I still miss Barbara!
Hope our paths cross again soon. Will you be at the WLT event tomorrow night? You know, speaking of public speaking, I should probably figure out what I'm going to talk about sometime between now and then, don't you think? ;)
Karen, Not sure what you mean re: soccer. Are you now on a soccer team??? Or just playing soccer informally or something? I find it hard to believe that "Madge" could be so irritating-- You're always so much fun that it's hard to imagine someone being so critical. She's a soccer player too? I love what "Hot Button" wrote about wearing a t-shirt that says "Be careful what you say, or you may end up in my next novel." I sometimes think that's where we get most of our ideas-- from our more aggravating experiences!
And by the way, maybe I'm out in left field, but what does TMI mean? (re: response from Grace's mom 48")
TMI = Too Much Information
Gosh, thanks for describing me as fun! Today I feel about as fun as a bowl of cream of wheat. Probably because I switched to decaf.
Here's the soccer scoop: for years, hubby has been asking me to play on a co-ed team with him. Since a friend of mine started a team, with hubby as co-captain, I said I'd try a practice.
Which I did, last Sunday. Which is where I met Madge.
She won't be there next Sunday, evidently; it's the last practice before the official season begins. I'll decide this weekend whether I want to subject myself to a whole season of chasing a black-and-white ball and ignoring Madge.
And thanks, Melissa, for clearing up the TMI question. And I think I saw someone mention that the four-letter-word starting with 'd' is diet.
Speaking of diet, I went to Whole Foods for lunch today, and managed to eat only a turkey sandwich, despite the mounds of tres leches cake, chocolate, and mousse cups.
Can you say willpower? :)
Speaking of health food, hubby did something totally wonderful with supermarket strawberries that the Inn might be able to use. They were huge strawberries - you know the tasteless kind they sell. He hulled them, squirted in a teaspoon of agave nectar, filled it up with strawberry kefir, then added a sprig of nice, fresh spearmint. Then he nestled four transformed berries into black bowls to go with the fresh spinach omelettes. They were actually marvelous. So was the omelette. And the coffee is outrageously good now that we've gotten one of those coffee toddy systems that makes a cold "brew" syrup. I'm making myself hungry here. Gotta go! Yes, on the Susan question.
Dani
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