I’m such a Diva!
And that’s why I must blog about the Romance Divas Not Going to Conference- Conference. This is a cool way to win prizes and talk with authors.
I threw something into the prize pool but you’ll have to drop by to see what it is! See you there…
Independence Day or Being a Brit?
I’ll be out of town for a few days but I wanted to speak about the 4th before I left. This is a great holiday to spend time with family, have cookouts and get wet at the pool but it’s important we remember what the holiday really means to each of us.
“Independence Day, commonly known as the Fourth of July, is a federal holiday commemorating the adoption of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776, declaring independence from the Kingdom of Great Britain.”
(Taken from Wikipedia)
A British friend told me, just the other day, that we should have stayed- being a Brit is fun. One does have to wonder how our lives might be different if we had stayed under British rule. Southern accents and British are a lot different so that is a major difference for me.
How would your life be different if you were a Brit?
Publishers- old and new
I’d like to get some feedback on publishers that authors love. Please don’t comment on any problems or advise against a certain publisher. We’ll go with the- “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything” phrase. I know there are a ton of spectacular publishers out there and this is your chance to pimp your favorite one, or two, or three….
Sales
I had a sale in my driveway this weekend. I simply put ’sale’ on all of the signs and sold a good bit of stuff. Here are some of the things I’ve heard these sales called:
*Yard Sale- I’d assume this would take place in a yard but I’ve never really seen a sale in the yard or a yard for sale
*Estate Sale- I’ve always thought this meant someone was moving. Everything left on the ‘estate’ is being sold. Not always the case. Some people put this on their signs because they think of their home as an estate.
*Garage Sale- Okay, I have seen people actually have sales in their garage so this one makes sense unless of course you think they are selling the garage!
*Electronic Sale- I really think these signs are meant to pull in the men. Several men got out of their trucks in my driveway this weekend and asked- “Where’s the man stuff?”
*Tool Sale- See Electronic Sale explanation.
*Neighborhood Sale- This really pulls in the customers. The impression of many sales in one general location is tempting to many. Several signs pointing to different sales is also an attention getter.
Looking back I guess I could have put ‘Driveway Sale’ on my signs…
I heard a rumor once that one country, I believe Sweden but don’t quote me, has a huge ’sale’ once a year. I also heard that anyone wanting to participate cleans out their closet and puts everything they don’t want in the front yard. You just drive around and pick up what you want.
Now why didn’t I think of that?
Michael Jackson
This is the way I’d like to remember Michael. I have the entire Thriller video on my ipod- I remember the anticipation of waiting for that short film to come out. I still have a scrapbook I kept of him while I was in middle school. I remember the Pepsi commercial, the silver glove, and the pictures on the news of Neverland.
I think a lot of us can relate to a misunderstood soul. Regardless of what happened to his career in the later years- I’ll miss him.
Farrah Fawcett
This is the poster that hung over my husband’s bed when he was a teenager. A most famous poster. I heard on the news it sold over 12 million copies!
This is kind of how I remember her, as a determined, fun-loving woman who enjoyed life.
However you remember her- take a few moments today to think back on her life…
How do you like your horror?
I love watching horror films. I grew up on Freddy Kruger and Jason. Michael Myers was always a favorite too- did they ever find out who that guy was with the black trenchcoat? My favorite scary movies are the ones that have true ‘horror’ as in really scary instead of all the blood and gore. Right now I’m watching Mortuary on the Chill channel. Weird show. Some kind of black goop is taking over the town. Now give me an old-time Dracula or The Mummy and I’m in hog heaven.
So what about your horror? Do you like the blood and gore, science fiction horror, or old time classics?
Flash Me! has a winner
As promised, here is the winner Flash!
GROWING AWAY
When does it happen? Where? How? Later in life you know that it was this experience, or that year in which you ceased to be a child.
Is that experience always bitter? Or bittersweet. Sad, because childhood is always lost. Not shed like a skin or moult. But lost like an image in a kaleidoscope and all your twisting and turning cannot recall it. Never exactly as it was. So losing childhood is sad, bitter, or bittersweet. What you would call it?
“Hello,” he said, “I’m Aaron.”
“Hello. I’m alone.”
Aaron laughed, “Do you always have opening lines?”
“Not always. I never do anything always. But then I don’t always say never to anything, so perhaps I do.”
“What a complicated person you are.”
“Do you always make snap judgments?”
That’s how we met.
We argued almost constantly, yet we were electrically drawn together. But our moments of peace and clarity were so complete they made up for the arguments. At those times we never said a word. We hardly dared to breathe.
I remember one afternoon when the magic was so strong. The dancing leaves, were greengold. The wind, soft as a zephyr. The sea pounded a primal percussion. The world melted away. Our oneness was yogic in its trance. So intense I snapped it.
“Shall I finish this potato?” the crystal dome of peace shattered into the million sounds of everyday and the world rushed in upon us. His eyes were bewildered and upset. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what”, I challenged, knowing exactly what he meant. I’d wanted to say, “it was too strong, couldn’t you feel it? Too powerful, too much, that kind of emotion is like a razor it will cut our hearts into tiny fragments and scatter them in the wind, into nothingness.” But I pushed the hair out of my eyes, dusted my clothes and prepared to leave.
Some days I ran away from everything and everyone to a place by the sea where the wind whipped angrily, strong and loud in its wailing and lament, high pitched, hysterical. The sea hammered the world into silence, a temple drum demanding the devotees’ total attention.
On those days my confusion would be made to leave like the fisherman who bade his soul depart by cutting at his shadow, so he could live with the mer-folk of the sea who had no souls.
I’d return chastised and silent. For a while we would be without arguments and without spirit. Then we needed other people. Friends, we’d call them in later life. And Aaron was a different creature.
Listen to this:
“No bid.”
“Goodnessknowswhat hearts.”
“Get me a cigarette, please” to me.
“Some water.” Again me. I don’t play, see.
“No bid.”
“Ash tray, two clubs.”
Bridge evenings became more frequent. And I began to see things about Aaron that I distinctly disliked. He was too loud. Too boisterous. Too everything. Maybe he was trying to fill a vacuum. Then I did my nasty thing. I introduced him to Sheila.
She was everything. Attractive. Charming. Nice figure and, I thought, emptyheaded. I could have been wrong about that but I liked to think I wasn’t. Certainly she didn’t feel things as strongly as I did.
Then the green-eyed monster paid me a visit. Before this I had thought myself above green-eyed monsters, sharp, nasty remarks, that sort of thing. But here’s what happened to me:
“Seen Sheila lately?” me.
“Uh hmmm,” Aaron.
“Nice girl isn’t she?”
“I guess.”
“Oh! Confess. You think she’s pretty?” So he agrees. “Yes, she’s pretty.”
Me, nasty, face twisting, a mockery of a smile, eyebrows arched, horrid, vulgar, a disappointment to myself, but I continue, “Prettypretty, pretty nice figure, pretty dumb too!” Dirty laugh.
His face, his heart, his whole being recoils, “Why did you do that?”
I ran away to my place by the sea, began to disengage my mind strings from him. Or was it my heartstrings?
We argued more frequently. The subjects were petty: where to go, what to do. Trivialities. He’d come late to our meeting places. Once he didn’t show up.
He started to flirt with Sheila. The usual double entendre, sexual innuendo, more than one dance. Me? I lost my sense of timing. Couldn’t dance a step. So he danced with her. We needed crowds, by then. And though he always reached me home, his mind was elsewhere, like in those mushy sentimental songs.
Finally I asked him the question. Nothing clever or witty, just straight: “Do you care about me?”
“Do you really mean that? I didn’t know it mattered.”
“It does. I think. Sometimes.” I whispered, not sure myself what I was getting at. And then I backed off. His eyes softened. Deep brown almond eyes he had, has still I suppose, eyes don’t change, do they?
” I do care,” his voice caught deep in his throat, “but you won’t let me. Every time we get close, the same wavelength even, you buck and shy like a wild animal. It’s difficult, but I do care very much, it’s the first, the first…” he broke off.
Things were easy for a while. Calm. Less turbulent. Less colourful. And we needed crowds of friends.
Then I met Zahl. Serene. A well of emotions that he controlled. I felt like a lost ship when it finally sees a familiar coastline.
I was easier with myself, with Aaron. I got my timing back and danced on wings. Then came the tricky part when I had to tell Aaron we were two ships going different ways, the time had come to welcome the freedom of travelling on. Other stars had to be sought, another moon would shine on me. Then, for the first time, he said, “Don’t you care for me?”
“I do, very much.”
What I couldn’t add was that that was why I had to say goodbye, to childhood and to him, with all that that word means: God be with you.
by Zohra Saeed
Happy Father’s Day
Isn’t this just the sweetest? Leave your fondest memory of your father in the comments. I’ll start.
One day I came home from school and my dad was working on a car out in the yard. Something was wiggling in the front of his shirt as I watched. I touched his belly and jumped back. He opened it up and gave me my first kitten. I was sooo excited and still love animals to this day. I believe I had just turned three.
Happy Summer
This is so true for me. Of course I spend my summers resting and relaxing. I don’t wear make up in the summer and I don’t stress over what I’m going to wear. I eat better and exercise more. It’s wonderful. I wish I had this attitude all year long. I’ll have to work on that. I think I need to move to a place where it’s summer all year ’round.
What do you do differently in the summer? Are you relaxed and fun loving or counting down the days ’til the kids go back to school?
