Birthday Present

Last year I set an intention for my 40s: become a published author.  Granted as of today I still have 9 years to make that happen, but I want it to happen sooner rather than later. Because...I wrote a book. Yup, I really did. A whole 105K words and 238 pages of...well, no spoilers. 

Okay, okay, it's a work of fiction covering events that may or may not happened the years prior to this blog starting that also may or may not be NSFW. Please note that names, characters, business, events and incidents are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to any actual of the aforementioned nouns, living or dead, are purely coincidental. 

So....yeah. I want a legit book deal. A deal that works with editors, publishers and promoters who do the work of selling millions to book stores. Not to mention they would arrange the book tour because I don't have the energy or time to do that with being a working mom and all. If that doesn't happen I know I could self publish, but I don't want to do all that work either for the same reason.  

If anything this blog and the reactions I receive have given me an overinflated sense of confidence that I already have an audience. But I really do think I have a story and a writing style that people who don't know me would actually want to read.

So for my birthday this year, I'd like a book deal. If anyone can make that happen you'd usurp dr soc as my favorite person.       

Storytime

The other day at work "the walmart baby" story/movie came up in conversation and my coworkers, who are 21 and 23, were genuinely confused. How was this story even possible? Was it true? (no, but the movie was based on a work of fiction) How did she give birth at walmart? How come security or the camera's catch her at night? How was she able to even hide in the store in the first place? I've seen the movie but it had been a while, so I called upon my trusty sidekick the internets to fill in the the holes in my memory (that's how I found out it was based on a book). 

coworker 1: How was she able to hide in the first place? 

me: on accident at first. She's in the bathroom at closing time and when she comes out the staff has all left. After that first night she repeats the process and keeps a running tab of what she owes walmart for using.

coworker 1: Why didn't they check the bathrooms?

me: I don't know those logistics. I'm just telling you the plot. 

coworker 2: Why didn't security find her? Or at least a camera?

me: I don't know, they must not have needed security or cameras after closing.

both: Closing time? When did walmart close?

me: The movie came out in 2000. I saw it in the theater the summer I graduated high school.

coworker 1: I was...maybe 9 in 2000.

coworker 2: I think I was in 6th grade in 2000.

me::sigh:: Oh you dear children, back in my day in 2000, this was possible. Believe it or not, in 2000, not all walmarts were 24 hours.

both: GASP!

How I got Bailey

Do you know the story of how I first got a dog? Long story, but ridiculously happy ending, I promise. Totally worth the read in my opinion. Anyway

I mentioned to my ex after we got back from vacation that I though I would be ready to take on pet ownership. I figured, he was proposing (though I wasn't supposed to know that, but I did know and he knew that I knew and I knew that he knew...) and since I was getting something I wanted, he should have something he really wanted too (besides an attractive fiance).

So the Saturday morning arrives and I'm ready to go, but he wasn't as pumped as I was and really hard to get moving. After some unsuccessful attempts to rise him out of bed, I resorted to poking and annoying him.

Me (slightly pleading) : Come on, we don't have may free Saturdays together. Let's go to just look.
X: (sigh of resignation) Ok. But I'm warning you, the pound is a sad place and you'll want to save every dog there. And you know we can't do that.
Me: Pftsh, I know that! Our apartment's too small for one thing, and we don't have any dog stuff either. And we're only looking.
He shakes his head, knowing I really have no idea what's going on. But he indulges me anyway and we go to the SPCA. "Just looking. We're just looking," I repeat over and over to myself.

But then my pretty tan puppy was placed in my arms and "just looking" went out the window. I coo over the puppy and puppy induced babble spills from my mouth. I'm falling in love and everyone, including my fiance, can see it. At the same time he realizes my "just looking" pep talk was a complete lie and starts to have concerns about my ability to care for a dog. He's not worried about his ability, but me, he has doubts.

X (gently): Babe, you've never had a dog before. And this is a puppy...
Me (snort): You're the one who wanted a puppy in the first place so we could train it from the beginning.
X: But you're baby sitting tonight, and I'm working. You can't handle a toddler and a puppy by yourself.
Me:(slightly (totally) indignant) Excuse me? Oh yes I can! (I have no idea if this is true, but he has just challenged me and that will not do)
X (still gently): No, you really have no idea how hard a puppy is...

--the nu-uh yu-uh argument continues for several rounds. My face get's stormier and stormier, and my grip on my puppy never loosens--

X: maybe we could start the paperwork now pick her up tomorrow...
Me: Put her on hold you mean? Leave her?!?! Well that won't work!
X (another sigh of resignation): I'll go talk to the desk and see if it's at least possible. Hold onto her. But don't get too attached babe...
Me (sing song voice and making silly faces at Bailey who I've already started think of names for): too late!
A few minutes later he walks back in the puppy room and asks: what's the number on her temporary tag?
Me (I'm in a puppy haze (that sh*t's potent - if I could figure out how to bottle it, I could rule the world)): Huh? What? Why?
X: (rueful smile) I need the tag number to finalize the adoption.
Me (jumping up and down in excitement): She's ours?! Squeeee! Oh puppy! I'm your mommy!
Bailey: Arf! Arf! Arf! (and a kiss for good measure)

--later that evening in our (small) apartment, the baby sitting done (he called in sick to work to stay with me while I babysat. Though I say I totally could have handled it)--

Me (still sing song voice): I have a puppy! I have a puppy!" (She snuggles closer to me as if to say hi mom!) How how could you think we were going to leave her there?
X (slightly chastened at how attached the puppy is to me): Yeah, I was watching you. And your face was telling me you were going to be really pissed off if we didn't get her.
Me (nodding at his correct assessment): yep, you're right. I would not be speaking to you right now if we left without her.
X (big grin spreads across his face): we have a puppy!

Dear Carly Phillips

I felt as if it was a trashy romance novel kind of weekend seeing as I was piled ankle deep in snow. But I am not typically a trashy romance reading kind of girl, and since I have read a few of your novels before, I decided you were a good starting point.

Now, I do think you are a decent writer and you tell a steamy story. And you are on the NYT best seller list and you have many books so you are obviously successful at what you do. I know how hard it can be to get published in the first place, let alone get multiple books, and here you are in double digits. And you appeal to a mass audience as well and that's awesome for you. But along those same lines, all those mass appeal stories are kinda the same story. You really like the trio, and I get why, it continues a story arc and gets you multiple books. Shrewd business woman, that you are. But well, there are a few overlying trends that I am having a hard time with from my recent readings. Such as:

• That almost everyone found their one and only (o&o) true love at 17.
• That there is a o&o true love either.
• That no one moves on or lets go. Ever.
• That the same love of your life breaks up with you at 17 to save their heart or their partners heart. Have you ever met a benevolent 17 year old? Especially when it comes to sex?
• Oh and that at those same 17 year olds who are so in love have lots of amazing sex. Because being good in bed takes practice. Lots of it. If they are good, they are slutty.
  
• And then 10-15 years later after no one has moved on, those o&o 17 year olds, now older and wiser and much more open to a fair partnership, reunite and have super hot makeup/missed-you-soooo-much sex, the past hurt and pain is forgotten and everyone lives happily ever after.
• Along those lines, while I'm glad that you always make your character use and strongly advocate protection, I don't believe that only one time without it will get you instantly pregnant. Also, your women are often on the pill, which is 99% effective if taken properly. Make your heroines better at their birth control or less fertile.
• I do not believe two people can fall mutually in love with each other in a week or less. In the stories where your characters are not reunited o&o and are complete strangers at first, they always, always fall in love in a ridiculously short amount of time.
  
• The word use of her mound and his length. I'm a big girl, as are many of your readers. I can take a dirtier word here and there. And as someone who has been in some passionate positions herself, I have used much dirtier words and I was not thinking nearly as clearly or emotionally at the time as your characters do in the same situation.
• In Hot Zone series, it's mentioned Annabelle has a baby girl named Sydney. When she returns from maternity leave in the 3rd book, Sophie asked how her nephew is doing and Annabelle responds with he's at his grandparents. Then at the end of the book, they have a daughter again. I can't believe no one caught this in your arsenal of editors before the book was printed. That just bugged me, though I admit I like the Hot Zone series the best out of all the stuff I've read.
  
• And that everyone is so freaking good looking. But then, they are your characters and I wouldn't want to write a sexy novel about an ugo either. So this one, I'll just say those are my insecurities talking.

However, despite all my finger pointing, you are the one with the book deals, and I am the reader. And I will continue to read your novels on occasion. So pretty much, I'm the asshole here. Sorry 'bout that. Carry on!

Zeus

When I posted about religion a while back, I didn't mention ancient Greek and Roman mythology. Mainly because those beliefs have fallen to the wayside as a religion. But I've always liked mythology and that there were different gods and goddess who controlled things. And that they could seriously f*ck with people who pissed them off. And dudes, they had a party god (Bacchus (Roman)/Dionysus (Greek), god of the vine), and that's pretty cool. (unless you are a maenad (true blood ref), and the worship of dionysus is delusional)

My false sense of superiority on mythology comes from what I can recall of my 6th grade Latin class and a book on Mythology I read for AP English in high school (ten years ago. Shut up). And what I've forgotten, Wikipedia can fill in the blanks (btw, everything on wiki is click-able in 6 steps or less). But I think it's common knowledge that Zeus, was a man (god?) whore. Dude, got around. And he had throngs of children so that just proves he was potent too. He was a smooth talker and so divine that women, mortal and ethereal, fell at his feet. But Zeus also loved a good intrigue, and I guess having women throwing themselves at you get's boring after a while. So he preferred to get his conquest through trickery (sort of like roofies only not in that immoral evil and illegal way (oh yeah, I went there)).

Don't forget there's all sorts of incest, immaculate conceptions and betrayals going on in the god world. Hera, Zeus' wife, was notoriously jealous and vengeful. But I would be too if my husband kept stepping out on me I had powers (I'm still working one smite). Hell, you're the goddess of marriage and your husband is the definition of philanderer, I'd be livid. Not to mention the unfairness of Hera's only immaculate conception (and non-Zeus child) was deformed and tossed into a volcano (Vulcan), while Zeus' (sorta) immaculate conception (Athena) and other other infidelities (Apollo, Artemis, Aphrodite...) all got to be divinities, rise among the ranks and sit at the big god's table. So Hera cursed a lot of his play things (Feminism, the early years. Can't divorce your adulterous spouse, at least make his conquest lives miserable).

Well anyway, Zeus pops down to earth, changes form, impregnates, he's good. But he probably would have a little more difficult time with this MO today. Times have changed. Humans are not as gullible as they once were (oh wait, yes they are, we just have google (and wiki) now). Gone are the days of a beautiful swan entrancing a young lady (Leda and the Swan). An ethereal animal can't just approach a human with out raising someone's eyebrows. And even if he got through that red tape, bestiality, not so much.

So since the animal plot is out, he needs a different trick. And you know Hera's just loving that hubby dearest has got to work a little harder now. But hey it's Zeus, he can toss lighting bolts to get someone out of his way. Not like that's inconspicuous or anything. So he comes to earth as a really good looking man. But drat again! Target conquest whips out her iPhone and google searches the name he gives her. It doesn't take long (I made him go after the tech savvy women just because it makes me feel better than if he went for the bimbo) for her to figure out it's Zeus in human form and really well worn 3 piece suit.

Zeus, king of gods, foiled by the iPhone.

Promise You Won't Be Mad

Those are never comforting words by the way.
I made zucchini bread the other day, and as the smell wafted through the house, it reminded me of the first time I made it back in my college apartment (which is different than my college house).

My roommate (Alison) and I were having friends come into town, so I was in hostess mode and making baked goods for our inevitably hung over asses. I decided to try my hand at a zucchini bread for some reason. When the bread came out of the oven, it smelled wonderful and it had risen enough that it cracked along the peak. I left the pan on the stove to cool and then left for work.

When I come home that night, I called out a "hi" to my roommate as I walk in the door. But instead of the normal "hi" back, I'm greeted with a sheepish:

A: "Promise you won't be mad at me."
Seeing she has all her limbs I figure this can't be too bad honestly.
But I still say, "what did you do?"
A: "Promise you won't be mad."
Me: "What did you do Alison?"
A: "Promise you won't be mad..."
Me: Well, I can't really promise that until I know what you did. But ok, I promise I won't be mad."
She leads me into the kitchen
A: "I, umm, sorta ate some of the zucchini bread..." ::voice trailing off::
I'm thinking oh is that it? And then I see why.

She had been nibbling on the bread by picking at the crack on top (I had too before I left though). And kept picking at it until there was a huge gully dug out. And once she realized there was a huge hole in the bread, she figured f*ck it, and just cut a slice.

I laughed so hard I cried.

She felt so bad though that she quickly made the cinnamon topped mini loves we had stored in the pantry shelve for months. But at least we had tons of baked goods for our hung over asses. And it was, indeed, awesome.