Happy Father’s Day!!!
I had thought about a few things I could blog about. I could go on and on about my TBR list, or just blab about my personal life, but I decided not to do that.
Why you ask?
Well, because all of that is pretty boring, and besides, it’s FATHER’S DAY!
I don’t think I appreciated my dad that much until I had a child of my own. . .shocker. Suddenly, all those words of wisdom he’d given me over the years seemed much more relevant than they had when I was in my teens.
Once I realized my old man wasn’t the idiot I thought he was when it came to raising children, I started to reconsider some of his other pearls of wisdom. And what do you know? Some of those gems make a lot of sense. For your education, I’ll share some of my favorites.
Never believe what you hear, and only half of what you see.
A crack on the ass never hurt anyone. (I beg to differ. . .)
You may think you can be rude to your mother, but don’t you dare disrespect my wife. (his wife is my mother, they’ve been married for 43 years)
I don’t care what your husband looks like or does for a living as long as he treats you well. (and is a Red Sox fan)
Find a job you love or you’ll be miserable half your waking hours.
Having a lot of money never made anyone healthier or a better person.
Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. (or in my case, fool me six or seven times and someday I’ll finally learn and dump your ass.)
And my absolute favorite. . .
It’s noon somewhere.
For all you fathers out there, enjoy your day! To all of you who've lost your fathers, I hope some of my dad's gems reminded you of your own dad.
Ari
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
A week late...
...but not a dollar short. At least, not yet! My apologies for being so long in getting this post up. Life has a funny way of getting in the way sometimes. In fact...let me share with you what my week's been like...
It actually all started on Thursday, June 4th. I'm on my way to my day job, just as I have been for the past twenty-five years. About a year ago I started taking a different route as I was pretty bored with the orginal one (Boring? Twenty-three years traveling the same route day in and day out becomes mind-numbing!). The sun had just peeked over the horizon to my left, the sky was cloudless and all was right with the world.
...Until my car hit something and came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the road. Not until I saw the deer flying threw the air did I realize what I'd hit. My car stalled (I drive a standard) and I shook for several seconds as I fished my cellphone out of my pocket and debated, "Do I call my husband first or 911? Or a tow truck? Triple A? I can't remember!"
Now, I'm not usually a dither-er, but this particular time, I just couldn't think. Yes, I said "this particular time." You see, in these twenty-five years of traveling thirty miles to work and thirty miles home every day, this is the third deer I've managed to slay. In fact, Deerslayer is now the official name of my car at the shop, since two of those deer I've gotten with this car.
Unfortunately, this is the first deer I've hit that wasn't killed on impact. His back leg was broken and he crawled to the edge of the road and fell into the ditch. He couldn't get out the other side and I felt terrible. I'm not a gun owner and am not used to gunshots, so it wasn't fun asking the sheriff who came to go put the deer out of it's misery. But I knew it was for the best and I turned my back and didn't watch. Even though I was ready for it, I still jumped when the gun went off.
As for my car, we thought it might end up being totaled, but since the airbags didn't go off...which, by the way, I'm of a mixed mind about. I mean, I'm glad they didn't go off as I'm not tall and have the seat fairly close to the steering wheel so I can reach the pedals. If it had gone off I'd have ended up with a broken nose and smashed glasses. On the other hand...if they don't go off when I hit a deer broadside...will they EVER go off????
Anyway, since the airbags didn't deploy, they didn't have to total the car. It did, however, take them the week to repair. The collision shop did a great job (you can't tell it was ever in an accident), but that meant I had no car for a whole week. An entire week of begging a ride from someone in a neighboring town who had to go out of her way to pick me up and take me home every day. An entire week of juggling schedules so four people could share one car (I love the fact that both my kids are at the driving or learning-to-drive stage of their lives. Now if only they could afford their OWN cars!). An entire week of having my writing schedule totally thrown out of whack.
...and that's my excuse for not posting when I was supposed to. I wasn't hurt or in shock or anything like that. Just a case of real life getting in the way of good intentions.
Till next time...play safe!
Diana
It actually all started on Thursday, June 4th. I'm on my way to my day job, just as I have been for the past twenty-five years. About a year ago I started taking a different route as I was pretty bored with the orginal one (Boring? Twenty-three years traveling the same route day in and day out becomes mind-numbing!). The sun had just peeked over the horizon to my left, the sky was cloudless and all was right with the world.
...Until my car hit something and came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the road. Not until I saw the deer flying threw the air did I realize what I'd hit. My car stalled (I drive a standard) and I shook for several seconds as I fished my cellphone out of my pocket and debated, "Do I call my husband first or 911? Or a tow truck? Triple A? I can't remember!"
Now, I'm not usually a dither-er, but this particular time, I just couldn't think. Yes, I said "this particular time." You see, in these twenty-five years of traveling thirty miles to work and thirty miles home every day, this is the third deer I've managed to slay. In fact, Deerslayer is now the official name of my car at the shop, since two of those deer I've gotten with this car.
Unfortunately, this is the first deer I've hit that wasn't killed on impact. His back leg was broken and he crawled to the edge of the road and fell into the ditch. He couldn't get out the other side and I felt terrible. I'm not a gun owner and am not used to gunshots, so it wasn't fun asking the sheriff who came to go put the deer out of it's misery. But I knew it was for the best and I turned my back and didn't watch. Even though I was ready for it, I still jumped when the gun went off.
As for my car, we thought it might end up being totaled, but since the airbags didn't go off...which, by the way, I'm of a mixed mind about. I mean, I'm glad they didn't go off as I'm not tall and have the seat fairly close to the steering wheel so I can reach the pedals. If it had gone off I'd have ended up with a broken nose and smashed glasses. On the other hand...if they don't go off when I hit a deer broadside...will they EVER go off????
Anyway, since the airbags didn't deploy, they didn't have to total the car. It did, however, take them the week to repair. The collision shop did a great job (you can't tell it was ever in an accident), but that meant I had no car for a whole week. An entire week of begging a ride from someone in a neighboring town who had to go out of her way to pick me up and take me home every day. An entire week of juggling schedules so four people could share one car (I love the fact that both my kids are at the driving or learning-to-drive stage of their lives. Now if only they could afford their OWN cars!). An entire week of having my writing schedule totally thrown out of whack.
...and that's my excuse for not posting when I was supposed to. I wasn't hurt or in shock or anything like that. Just a case of real life getting in the way of good intentions.
Till next time...play safe!
Diana
Sunday, June 7, 2009
watch this space!
I spent the weekend at the cabin relaxing instead of creating the blog post I was supposed to be writing...mea culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa (and with that, I reveal my own religious upbringing! Nikki's not the only one with antiquity and tradition in her background!).
Anyway...I promise a post by tomorrow evening! I'll be witty and pithy and clever and...
...maybe I'd better stop at I promise a post by tomorrow evening.
:) Play safe!
Diana
Anyway...I promise a post by tomorrow evening! I'll be witty and pithy and clever and...
...maybe I'd better stop at I promise a post by tomorrow evening.
:) Play safe!
Diana
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Electronic violation
It had been my intent to blog this week about the beautiful sunny weekend. It's been a perfect sunny 25 degrees celsius since Friday and in Scotland this is an event worth celebrating. I went to the beach twice and took my dog for a drive along our lovely coast. However yesterday there was a cloud ruining my fun. A telephone call from my credit card company asking me if I had just spent almost $600 in a Walmart in America a few moments ago. Sitting in my car in Scotland my heart sank along with the sunset I had been watching. After a run of security questions my credit card company told me it was all fine. They had cancelled the card, I wouldn't be charged for the false transactions and they would have a new card sent to me in a few days. Really all it will cost me is the inconvenience of changing any charges set up for the old card over to the new one.
So why do I still feel angry and violated?
I am angry that right now someone is sitting enjoying $600 worth of stolen goods and will very likely never pay for it. I am angry that someone took the trust I gave them by using my credit card and violated it by selling my details on to god knows how many other people. I am very glad and thankful to my credit card company for their vigilance which has prevented any more fraudulent use of my card and making this process as easy as possible so far. At the end of the day, it will only be a little inconvenience...
So why do I still feel angry and violated?
I am angry that right now someone is sitting enjoying $600 worth of stolen goods and will very likely never pay for it. I am angry that someone took the trust I gave them by using my credit card and violated it by selling my details on to god knows how many other people. I am very glad and thankful to my credit card company for their vigilance which has prevented any more fraudulent use of my card and making this process as easy as possible so far. At the end of the day, it will only be a little inconvenience...
Sunday, May 24, 2009
You know you're a Mennonite when...
In keeping with the rather...religious theme of my new release, ESSENTIAL SEDUCTION, and the fact that I've recently started reading a book (A Complicated Kindness) written by a woman who, I swear, has lived at least part of my life as a Mennonite and has now set it to paper...I thought I'd give you all a little glimpse of life as a "Modern Mennonite." i.e. the kind who use electricity and are allowed to wear jeans. It is a past I have thankfully left far behind, but there is no denying it is a part of me. So, here goes...
You know you’re a Mennonite when:
You have learned to laugh politely when someone asks where you parked your buggy. So original. OMG! I can’t contain myself. Ahem. Moving on…
You find elaborate hand stitched quilts to be quite passé. I grew up maneuvering around the quilt frames that were constantly being set up in major living areas in my house. My cousins and I used to make a game out of crawling around under the quilt and batting balls and blocks in a crazy game of “quilt soccer.” Btw, I tried quilting many times. I suck at it.
You have a “potluck kit” ready to go at a moment’s notice, for all those special church basement moments.
You’ve had your feet washed by a relatively casual acquaintance…also in the church basement.
You have drunk grape juice at communion rather than wine, because alcohol is verboten!
You have eaten cook cheese (fermented skim milk that has the consistency of mucous. Actually quite tasty with caraway), straema pie (I have no idea if that’s spelled correctly, but it’s basically applesauce pie) and cream dressing on your iceberg lettuce. Mmmm….and so healthy, too!
You have eaten butter bread dipped in maple syrup rather than flavored oils. (Now that IS nummy!)
You have played card games such as “Rook” or “Dutch Blitz”.
You have debated whether those card games were appropriate to play on a Sunday.
You know what crokinole is.
You have roller skated to the likes of Amy Grant and Petra. Because it’s okay to roller skate to Christian rock, rather than dance to the Devil’s music. (I guess the Christian beat is somehow less corrupting, and you can’t swing your hips as much when you’re on wheels.)
You can swear like a sailor…only in Pennsylvania Dutch.
I could go on and on... but I'll leave it at that! Does anyone share any of these little idiosyncracies? Any questions? I'm here to educate!
You know you’re a Mennonite when:
You have learned to laugh politely when someone asks where you parked your buggy. So original. OMG! I can’t contain myself. Ahem. Moving on…
You find elaborate hand stitched quilts to be quite passé. I grew up maneuvering around the quilt frames that were constantly being set up in major living areas in my house. My cousins and I used to make a game out of crawling around under the quilt and batting balls and blocks in a crazy game of “quilt soccer.” Btw, I tried quilting many times. I suck at it.
You have a “potluck kit” ready to go at a moment’s notice, for all those special church basement moments.
You’ve had your feet washed by a relatively casual acquaintance…also in the church basement.
You have drunk grape juice at communion rather than wine, because alcohol is verboten!
You have eaten cook cheese (fermented skim milk that has the consistency of mucous. Actually quite tasty with caraway), straema pie (I have no idea if that’s spelled correctly, but it’s basically applesauce pie) and cream dressing on your iceberg lettuce. Mmmm….and so healthy, too!
You have eaten butter bread dipped in maple syrup rather than flavored oils. (Now that IS nummy!)
You have played card games such as “Rook” or “Dutch Blitz”.
You have debated whether those card games were appropriate to play on a Sunday.
You know what crokinole is.
You have roller skated to the likes of Amy Grant and Petra. Because it’s okay to roller skate to Christian rock, rather than dance to the Devil’s music. (I guess the Christian beat is somehow less corrupting, and you can’t swing your hips as much when you’re on wheels.)
You can swear like a sailor…only in Pennsylvania Dutch.
I could go on and on... but I'll leave it at that! Does anyone share any of these little idiosyncracies? Any questions? I'm here to educate!
Sunday, May 17, 2009
The Power of Music
I graduated from high school in 1974. (You do the math.) All through high school, I listened to The Beatles, The Monkees, Paul Revere and the Raiders, Bread, Bobby Sherman. (I had SUCH a crush on Bobby Sherman! I even had a huge poster of him taped to the ceiling over my bed.) Yep, I was a pop music junkie. While most of my friends had their radios tuned to country stations (this was Texas, after all), I bebopped around my bedroom to The Partridge Family.
I've always loved music. Any job became easier if I could listen to my favorite songs. When I started writing, music naturally went along with it. The type of music depends on what I'm writing. Sometimes I want to bebop along with those great 70s tunes. Sometimes a movie soundtrack will put me in the exact mood I need. Classical, rock, pop, soft instrumental... It all depends on the scene and the characters.
Imagine a funky bubblegum song playing instead of the "da dum da dum" you expect when Jaws is in the water. Doesn't work at all, does it? It's the same with writing. The music has to be right or the mood is broken.
I write erotic romance for Ellora's Cave and Avon Red. I have to really concentrate when I write a love scene for I want it to be right. I want the reader to *feel* everything my characters are feeling...every sigh, every kiss, every whisk of fingertips over bare skin. Listening to songs with lyrics distracts me during those crucial scenes, so I turn to New Age instrumentals. The strings, harps, and flutes all go along with the sexy mood I'm trying to convey. "Da dum da dum" definitely wouldn't work while writing a love scene.
Does music play an important part in your life? Tell me about it.
Lynn
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Book Tours
We’ve all heard about them. Some of us maybe have actually done them. Most of us have imagined them. And every author I’ve ever talked to who has done one, dreads them...the Book Tour.
It seems glamorous doesn’t it? Going from bookstore to bookstore, talking about your book, signing copies for adoring fans, the booksellers wining and dining you (or at least providing cookies and tea).
Recently (as in last week), I got the opportunity to peek in on the book tour of a NYT bestselling author. A friend of mine, James Rollins (best known for writing international thrillers with a scientific twist) was on book tour for his YA novel “Jake Ransom and the Skull King’s Shadow.” I happened to be in town and he let me tag along for a day.
We started out at 10:00 AM and drove for ninety minutes to get to the first stop. The escort picked us up at noon and we headed off to the first presentation/book signing. After that was finished, the escort drove Jim around the Bay area going from bookstore to bookstore to sign stock. The schedule was well laid out by the escort but distance, travel time and traffic put us in a bit of rush. Several hours and four or more bookstores later (I lost count) we returned to the first location, where Jim did another presentation and signing before the return drive. We finished that signing about 7:30 PM.
This was a “short” day on Jim’s tour.
At no point during the day did we stop. Not for lunch or snacks. And the imagined leisurely moments of lingering amongst all those lovely books turned into glancing at the end caps as I tried to find the bathroom before we took off for the next store.
I can understand now why authors dread these days. Many of us have introverted tendencies so being cheerful and “on” all the time, is draining. By the time we got back in the car to head home, I was tired, hungry and crabby and I didn’t even have to be nice to people.
I'm glad I got to go for the day. The company was good, I got to go across the Golden Gate Bridge, and it gave me some insight into a different side of the publishing world.
Just from my short experience, it seems like chatting with readers and booksellers one on one is the best part of the tour. The travel part is the worst. Still the whole process intrigued me enough to give me something to aspire to…write a book that my publisher (and readers) think is worthy of a book tour.
My only advice…pack a lunch.
It seems glamorous doesn’t it? Going from bookstore to bookstore, talking about your book, signing copies for adoring fans, the booksellers wining and dining you (or at least providing cookies and tea).
Recently (as in last week), I got the opportunity to peek in on the book tour of a NYT bestselling author. A friend of mine, James Rollins (best known for writing international thrillers with a scientific twist) was on book tour for his YA novel “Jake Ransom and the Skull King’s Shadow.” I happened to be in town and he let me tag along for a day.
We started out at 10:00 AM and drove for ninety minutes to get to the first stop. The escort picked us up at noon and we headed off to the first presentation/book signing. After that was finished, the escort drove Jim around the Bay area going from bookstore to bookstore to sign stock. The schedule was well laid out by the escort but distance, travel time and traffic put us in a bit of rush. Several hours and four or more bookstores later (I lost count) we returned to the first location, where Jim did another presentation and signing before the return drive. We finished that signing about 7:30 PM.
This was a “short” day on Jim’s tour.
At no point during the day did we stop. Not for lunch or snacks. And the imagined leisurely moments of lingering amongst all those lovely books turned into glancing at the end caps as I tried to find the bathroom before we took off for the next store.
I can understand now why authors dread these days. Many of us have introverted tendencies so being cheerful and “on” all the time, is draining. By the time we got back in the car to head home, I was tired, hungry and crabby and I didn’t even have to be nice to people.
I'm glad I got to go for the day. The company was good, I got to go across the Golden Gate Bridge, and it gave me some insight into a different side of the publishing world.
Just from my short experience, it seems like chatting with readers and booksellers one on one is the best part of the tour. The travel part is the worst. Still the whole process intrigued me enough to give me something to aspire to…write a book that my publisher (and readers) think is worthy of a book tour.
My only advice…pack a lunch.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
