Zoooooom!

The other day, I was looking at an old post of mine dated February 5, 2011. It's hard to believe that time last year, I had no idea I would receive an email three months later from an editor at Avon/HarperCollins wanting to publish a book of mine. And now here I am with two released and another coming out December 26. Plus a proposal for three more ready to send in.

A month after that post, I got bronchitis and was so sick. You know how it is when you're not feeling good, everything appears hopeless.

Thank you Wendy Lee for making my life so much better.  Hugs.

Same Song, Different Verse

Okay, I just finished reading a book where a secondary character has the same name of a character from a 1960's western I use to watch with my dad. So you know the whole time I'm reading the book, I'm imagining the actor in the part. Only problem is the character will most likely have his own book before long and there I will be imagining the same actor. He was skinny and not handsome at all.

Today, he's a world famous and he's still not someone I would want to wake up next to in bed. Really. Why did the author think it was okay to use such a cowboy name in a book set in the southeast? She's my age, so I'm guessing she watched the same program and maybe she has a crush on the character and actor. Whatever. Each to their own.

Want to know the actor and character's name?  Click here and you can find out.

There are several actors who are not truly good-looking but women go crazy over. One is George Clooney. His face is too long. To me, he looks like Jay Leno's brother. But I do have to say, there are roles in which he looks good, but he still does nothing for me.

What actor has so many women going crazy over him and you don't understand the big deal?

The Art of Arguing

My father-in-law and I use to talk politics. We were on the opposite sides of the spectrum and that made some interesting discussions. Of course, the family would get upset with us as the debates would get a little excited. We never cursed and even if the family didn’t see it, I saw the sparkle in his eyes. He loved it.

Some people don’t understand how arguing about something can be a positive thing. But think about it, you exercise your brain by paying attention to what the other person is saying.

There’s actually an art to it. You can’t allow yourself to get mad. Think logically and be prepared to back up what you say with information. That means you have to watch TV, read newspapers (now the internet) and listen to others talk about the subject.

If you’re going on emotion or gut feeling only, you might as well not argue. That’s when people get ugly. Yep. Some people can’t handle it and shouldn’t try it.

I miss my hubby’s dad for that reason more than others. He was an artiste.

For Your Listening Pleasure

Sometimes I enjoy listening to old tunes. Such as Joe Crocker, The Animals, The Beatles, Janis Joplin, Grand Funk Railroad (from my pre-teens and early teens) and Uriah Heep, Pink Floyd, Allman Brothers, Led Zeppelin, Marshall Tucker Band, Nazareth, Elton John (Yellowbrick Road days), Lynyrd Skynyrd  and many others that bring memories back of my youth (later teens and early twenties), even those from the 80s that I look fondly on because my kids were little and they were fun. Think Billy Idol. But I’m not like some people my age who only listen to ‘oldies but goldies.’ I prefer the more current ones for my daily listening pleasure.  If I listen to old tunes all the time, I start feeling so depressed.  You know, time flying by and all that.

So nowadays I listen to Nickelback, Gotye, Lady GaGa, Kings of Leon, Threes Doors Down, Adele, Train, Kelly Clarkson, and so many more.

Ghosts of The Past

The other day for the heck of it, I decided to look up on MapQuest the place on Smith Lake my mom and dad use to own when I was a kid. I spent a many summer at the lake.  We would stay during the summer there and Dad would go into Birmingham to work, returning on the weekends to hang out with us.

Well, the area has changed a lot in the 45 years I've been gone. Wow, 45 years.  I guess it makes sense. Anyway, it made me a little sad because the people who now own the land (our two bedroom trailer was long gone) and built their house on it, wouldn't know about all the good times we had: the bonfires, the watermelon fights, and the running around screaming and jumping in the water fun. There was a house for sale next to the property. Sure wish I could buy it though I prefer the old property instead.

MapQuest is neat. Gave me a chance to see the place without leaving my chair.

Kisses Can Be Deadly

When I was a kid, we always had pets: birds, dogs and cats. I remember people saying that a dog's mouth was cleaner than a human's. Those people always let their dogs lick them all over the face. Sorry. I love dogs, in particular, but I refused to let them lick me. Gross!  You know where dogs love to lick themselves. Double gross.

Now I know I was right to feel that way.  Click here to check out this article.

Remember When

I watched tonight DOWN WITH LOVE with Ewan McGregor. Cute movie. It reminded me of when I was a kid and watched all the old movies with Frank Sinatra, Doris Day, Rock Hudson, and Tony Randal (who was in it). It had all the clichés from that era. Love it!  Oh, by the way, it was naughtier with its innuendos. LOL!

Re-Run #6

This one was at a buddy's blog, Patricia Preston from October 23, 2011.

Thanks, Patricia, for asking me to post on your blog.  I’ve always loved hanging out with you.

If you were about to be served your last meal, what would be on your plate?

100 Miles An Hour

Have you ever driven an 100 miles per hour or more?  I have. In fact, the fastest I've ever gone (driving) is 120 miles per hour and maybe even faster as at the time, that was as high as my 1966 Lemans' speedometer would go.  Long story. Just know I was young and dumb.

The car in the picture looks exactly like that car. It was in fact, my first car.  And no, it wasn't new even then.

Anyway, the reason I mention all of this is that I'm feeling like that's what speed I'm going and getting very little accomplished. I've decided after next week, I will be avoiding Facebook and Twitter. Though I'll probably blog occasionally, I will be going to no mail on my loops.  So if you want to contact me, you'll need to send me an email directly.  Go to my website to contact me.

Speaking of website, I'm still not happy with mine. If I change it again (most likely), it will be the fourth one this year.  Considering I kept the one I had back in January for nearly five years, that's really something. Plus, I really need to be writing and not designing.  ::Sigh::

A Funny Thing Happened...

You know, I'm not sure if I should be relieved or worried that nothing funny has happened to me in a long while. Hmmm, maybe happy. For when it does, I'm usually the one with the red face. 

Oh, this didn't happen recently (see sentence above) but a few years ago, my boss at the time sent me an email telling me what a good job I had done on a project. So in response, I sent back an email trying to sound modest and all, and said, "Shucks. Thanks."

Later, I went back to save it and decided to read it again. As plain as day, I had mistyped and wrote, "Sucks. Thanks." She didn't say a word. Thank goodness most people can read between the lines. 

Number 13 Strikes Again!

I’ve got to tell everyone. It’s something I mentioned to Christy Wednesday and I know she thinks I’m nuts. Well, I am but that’s beside the point…the number 13 played a large part in this. Yes. That unlucky number most dread to see. It just so happens my grandmother always told me that 13 was her lucky number. She had 13 kids (how can that be lucky?), was married on the 13th and her first house number was 13 and she mentioned others I had forgotten over the years. Anyway, after having that conversation with her, I’ve never really had a fear of that number.

Back in March, I wrote a post about the number 13 and how it kept popping up. I worried it would be bad juju. I should’ve known better.

Then on April 13, I sent in my full to Avon Impulse. Yes, folks, that was a Friday.  [Ooops! That was actually a Wednesday.  Just as The Email was received on a Wednesday.]
Coincidence? I don’t think so. I believe my grandmother was giving me a heads up. That’s not the first time something strange like this happened.

I would love to hear if you had similar things happen to you.

Here are the links to the blogs about this.
http://carlaswafford.blogspot.com/2011/03/bad-juju.html
http://carlaswafford.blogspot.com/2009/05/your-lucky-number.html

Oh, HAPPY MOTHERS' DAY!

Here I go Again

Considering I enter, judge, and coordinate contests along with train judges, I believe I know a few things. I have to say I'm tired of judges trying to change manuscripts into their voices. When you catch yourself changing nearly every sentence and it's not a grammar issue, maybe the voice isn't one you like. So walk away or mention one of two things and then let it go.

Yes. This is one of my little rants. As you guessed I received some scores on a contest I entered (yeah, did not final). One judge said my heroine's emotions were all over the board. The other one said she was consistent.  I believe if a person is going through a trauma and her emotions are steady, then something's wrong.  You didn't expect that, did you? Yes. The former judge meant it bad and gave me a low score.

Let me explain. I've had a gun pointed at me during a robbery (I worked in a drug store at the time. Kind of explains itself, huh?) and I can tell you my mind was all over the board. Scared with snatches of humor (Surely it was a poor joke -it wasn't), I still kept an eye out for an opportunity to run.  And I did when the gun went off. So in extreme situations, unless you're a robot and have no feelings, your emotions will be everywhere.

And I got the comment "this is a romantic suspense." I had entered it in Contemporary Single Title. But when I enter it into RS, they say it's erotica or a thriller. What does that have to do with it? A story is a story is a story.

Oh, and don't count how many times "was" was used. Goodness pick up a book.  It's okay. I swear.

Lemonade Stand

When I was little, probably seven or eight, my sister and I made some lemonade and placed a table near our road and sold glasses for ten cents a glass. At the time, we had a gardener. The poor man bought two or three glasses and paid the money. Looking back now, I bet the fellow didn't make that much money and his twenty or thirty cents took a little chunk out he needed to keep. But he was willing to make two little girls happy by being our only customer.

Happy Birthday, Grandmother

Every February 28, I think of my grandmother. She's the only grandmother I ever met and she was a humdinger. In her 60s she would go hiking with us grandkids and we would tramp all over the mountain on her farm. I remember her taking me to where the spring that ran through their property came out of the mountain. I've never drank such clean, cold water since.

The view was beautiful from the huge rock that jutted close to the top. My favorite thing was reaching that top. My grandfather planted corn in the field up there. After walking along a path with trees shading the way, dark and cool, to emerge in the field with tall, green stalks waving in the middle with the sun shining down, it was a beautiful sight. Maybe a little bit of a miracle.

Happy 115th Birthday!

Love, Carla

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah

The other day I was thinking about the first time I heard a Beatles song. I was sitting in the front seat of my mom’s car with my sister, waiting for mom to pick up something at our neighborhood drug store. Why that stuck in my mind, I have no idea.

I remember asking my sister, “Who’s singing that?”

“The Beatles,” she said all grown up for a twelve year old. I was eight.

I remembered thinking that was a funny name.

You’re probably wondering, what was the song’s name?

“I Wanna Hold Your Hand.”

Yep, That's Him

My dad has/had several siblings. My Uncle Freeman has always be one of my favorites. I like his voice. He sounds like the Old South. Let's see if I can describe it. Hmmm. He pronounces his vowels long like any Southern, but rarely drops his G's. He sounds like he's almost hoarse but with a softness. When I hear him, I automatically think of mint juleps, long porches with rocking chairs lined up and ready for wasting the day away, humid summer days and paper church fans.

Anyway, I recently found out my uncle is rather well-known to football fans, especially to those in Alabama. Click here to read the article about him and his late wife.

Fascinating what you turn up about family members on the internet. See. I should go to more family reunions. It has been over twenty years since I've been to one of my dad's side.

Remembering When

A few years ago, I was at my dad's and his wife pulled out a present she'd bought him. It was a shadow box with a picture and metal insde. It turns out my dad's dad had served in the Army during World War I. Yes. The first one not the second. He'd been wounded during the war and received the Purple Heart. I can't remember the details of the wound but I do remember hearing his lungs had been damaged by mustard gas. From the pictures I've seen of him, it's hard to believe he had any problems. He was a well-figured man.

So here's in memory to my dad's dad and all of those who served to protect me and my country. God bless you.

[Side note: I remember when I was in elementary school and told a classmate that my granddad had been in World War I, she'd said, "No Way!" And then perceded to tell me I couldn't have a grandfather old enough to be in that war. Obviously her grandparents had been younger than mine. I found out later that my granddad had been 15 years older that my grandmother. So there...pffff!]

Food Connoisseur

If you meet me in person, you know I'm a food connoisseur. ::smirk:: It was only in the last few years I tried lamb and found out I love it. Here in the Southern states, pork is king. We also eat beef, chicken and many types of seafood. So lamb is new to us. Anyway, there's a Greek restaurant in Birmingham that a few of us ladies at work like to go to and sit on their patio and eat gyros. They're wonderful.

Not too long after I discovered I enjoy lamb, I visited a new restaurant in my little community and on their menu they offered lamb. I was excited when I ordered by meal. It's casual dinning, so my husband picked up the food and brought it to our table. I looked at my plate and thought "Wow, it looks a lot like chicken." Then I realized they had messed up and given me chicken. I could've complained and taken it back, but the place was packed and I didn't bother.

The next time we visited I ordered it again. And once more they messed up the order and gave me chicken. How frustrating. Our booth was near the front counter and I turned around to look at the menu to see what I was missing, why were they giving me chicken when the menu actually said lamb? Then it dawned on me. It was their child's size meal of chicken called "Lamb plate." LOL!

It's A Small World After All

I've told my girls many times the world is a small place and how you act in one place may affect another part of your life. Examples of the small world.

1. I had a high school teacher who called us Miss So-and-so or Mr. So-and-so and I thought that was so cool to be called by my surname. I guess at the time, he was just out of college and in his first teaching job. I do remember how strict he was in class. Most of the other kids didn’t like him. I thought he was interesting. He was the history teacher and I’ve always loved history. He was the only teacher who ever said I was smart. Considering I made A’s in his class, I can understand why he thought that but I also remember hoping he never found out what I made in my other classes. Years later after moving to a new area, I joined a small church and to my delight he and his family were members. They were super (smart and sweet) and so nice to me.

2. I use to work with a woman who’s last name was Swofford and her husband’s first name was the same as my husband’s. Years later, my hubby received calls at home from people wanting loans. Turns out it was the woman’s husband who was a manager of a credit union. What’s even more amazing is to think people have the guts to look up a bank manager’s home phone number and ask for a loan or complain about being turned down.

3. We received calls and packages for a man who graduated from Mississippi State. We would tell people they have the wrong Swafford and they would argue with us. A couple years later, I was working with a new client in Mississippi and my contact had the same last name. Turned out it was his brother who worked at a local mall in Birmingham and had friends still at Mississippi State. This was before the internet and Google.

4. My oldest daughter had visited a friend’s church and, often what happens afterwards, some of the members came to visit us in our home. I asked if they were related to some cousins’ of my husband. The wife quickly said no. After further discussion, the husband admitted they were. It appears they wish they weren’t.

5. My youngest daughter joined a cheerleading squad and one of the girls had the same last name as my mom’s new husband. The girl's mom was petite and thought a lot about herself. I asked if by chance if they were related to my step-dad. The woman said, "No. No relation." She had such a panic look on her face. Turned out her father-in-law is my step-father's brother. I never brought it up, but my daughter told her daughter. I couldn't help grinning every time her daughter called mine cousin. LOL! You know by this time, I was wondering what's up with these people? I lived in a nice house, drove a decent car and had a good job. Same with my husband. What is wrong with this picture? Why are people so certain they're not related to mine or my husband's family? LOL!

6. One of my co-workers mentioned a church he and his wife went to for many years before they moved. It turned out to be the one I grew up in and my husband and I were married in. So I started asking if he knew different people I knew from there. Turned out his wife graduated from the same high school as me but a couple years later and he's close friends with a cousin of mine. Then over the next few months we found out we knew so many of the same people. It was strange. We wondered why we'd never met before. Too funny.

7. On a family vacation (without our eldest), I walked down to the beach to pick an umbrella to sit under. The area was little crowded but luckily I found two chairs and umbrella available not far from the hotel's ramp. I noticed a couple with no kids on the right and another couple with little ones on the other side. After about an hour of reading and enjoying the gulf breeze, the woman on the right leaned over and said, "Hey, Carla, how you doing?" She was my eldest's best friend's mom.

8. When my eldest was taking her license test, the state trooper who rode with her was a female and looked so familier to me. Turned out she was the wife of an old boss of mine.

9. The owner of the golf course near my home was married to my step-brother's ex-wife. I doubt they even realized who I was the couple times I met them.

10. I met three of my writing chapter buddies at the Dallas-Ft. Worth airport. They were flying back to Birmingham from San Francisco and hubby and I were flying back home from Seattle. Sure they were going back to the same place, but the airport was huge.

There are so many more small coincidences. Only proves you better behave yourself. You never know who's watching.

Love Nature...From The Other Side of Glass

In Mary's blog yesterday, she mentioned she hates camping. Me too! I've tried it twice and I can tell you it left a lot to be desired.

My dad loves the outdoors. He use to hunt (rifle & bow) and fish. He loved driving his boat, pulling skiers or just checking out the scenery. I never got the guts up as a kid to try water skiing. In my twenties I tried it and I never could get my butt up out of the water. It was the strangest enema I ever had. Yeah, yeah, TMI.

But thankfully Dad never acted like he was interested in camping. His idea of roughing it was in an double wide mobile home next to a huge lake or in a RV.

After my hubby and I got married, his friends asked us to go to Talledega (NASCAR race) and camp out. Since we were poor and barely could afford the tickets, there was no way we could buy a deluxe tent or rent a RV (I can't remember if you could do that back in the 70's). So he bought us a pup tent. Yep. The type you crawl into and have to back out of because it was so small.

The evening was sort of fun. There were about ten of us and we cooked out, talked and drank (sodas for me) and laughed a lot. One of my hubby's friends owned a chopper (fancy motorcycle - think EASY RIDER) and we rode it around, enjoying the feel of being young, free, and hippies. Hey, it WAS the 70's.

Then bedtime came. I like to brush my teeth, wash my face and...uh..."use" the bathroom. The area we were camped at didn't have restrooms or port-a-potties. Nothing. Someone in the group nailed a tarp on a tree and worked the edges out to make a makeshift teepee. (Get it?) Yep. You guessed it. That was our restroom. Yuck! It was stinky and grossing. I hated it.

Well, that night as we snuggled in our little pup tent (everyone else had deluxe fancy ones), it rained. I woke to a cold snap. Not freezing, thank goodness, but it wasn't pleasant. Damp, cold everything. Double yuck! I felt dirty all day long. In fact, I didn't go back to Talledega for twenty-something years and I can promise you, no camping out.

Now you would think that was enough, but noooo, I let my hubby talk me into going out camping again a year later. Once again, we had the ugly, smelly pup tent and the other couple had the luxury suite tent. But my hubby thoughtfully brought along two air mattresses. How sweet, huh? Wait for it.

We had a pretty good time. We cooked out, laughed, joked around, drank (I had sodas) and we even had a restroom just up the hill from our camp about 20 yards from the lake. That's much better.

When we stretched out on the air mattresses that night, it felt so good. No hard ground. Even when it started to rain, I was okay with it as I was dry and it was summer, so no worry of it getting cold. Wait for it.

Next morning I woke up and realized the air was out of my mattress. Then I noticed my back and arms were wet. I WAS IN AN INCH OF WATER! I kicked my hubby and told him I had been SLEEPING IN WATER! When all he did was grumble and turn over to go back to sleep (his AIR MATTRESS WAS FLOATING!!), I unzipped the tent and stepped out into the lake. Yes, the frigging LAKE! **There it is.*** It had rain so much that night the lake had overtaken our campground. By the way, the other couple's tent didn't leak and they were dry.

After I did some stomping around and screaming...yes, I don't take well to waking up in water in the middle of the frigging LAKE! I got into the car and refused to get out. I wanted to go home and that's exactly what we did. Yes. I wasn't pleasant. I'm not a morning person, but this was beyond crazy.

That was the last time I ever camped. RV's, hotels, and cabins are for me. Everyone else can keep the tents...pup or super luxury. I don't care. Stupid frigging camping.