The Big Bang Theory

The new prez was talking. Rather had watched my guys.

Right. I'm not a political animal.

Grab The Bull By The Horns

I understand why people (especially contest judges) pick on those tired and true idioms and ask for newer and fresher ones. Personally I don't see a problem using them as long as I don't use too many. I know it gives my little Southern town a realistic feel to it. CONSIDERING I LIVE IN A LITTLE SOUTHERN TOWN. LOL!

Just my opinion.

Contest Blues

Got some scores back today. LOL! I swear one judge tried her best to rewrite the whole entry. Most of what she did was unnecessay and changed the story. ::shaking head::

Well, I've sworn off contests. The big problem I had in the past are pretty much gone as the judges pick on stupid stuff. Too funny when they tell me Southerners don't talk or do certain things. LOL!

I'm working on my new WIP. Once my buddies finish reading my most recent paranormal, it's time to send off queries to agents. Yeah, I know. I have lots of completed manuscripts but with each finished book, I feel more confident that it's my best.

Wish me luck.

Thankful Friday!

You have no idea how hard it is to say I'm thankful this Friday. So far in two weeks I've not finaled on five entries! That's harsh. But what the hey, it firmly tells me I must concentrate on what's more important! Getting my manuscript in front of an interested agent or editor and the chancy road of expecting contest judges to not be bias is slim to none. See my blog from last month. Judges are crazy and I rather have a crazy editor reject me. That I can handle better.

I kept telling myself last year to quit entering them, but I would final in one about that time and then there I'd go again entering the suckers.

So I'm thankful I don't let all the crap drag me down. I'm thankful I have friends that are there for me and I'm thankful I know if I set my mind to something I can do it. AND I WILL BE PUBLISHED (UNDER CONTRACT) WITH AN AGENT AND EDITOR BEFORE THE END OF THE YEAR.

See. You have to be brave in this business. ::gulp::

Take a Moment

If you're like me, the last six months have been crazy scary. You know what's been happening around the world, so I won't go into it. No matter what I did to keep my spirits up, turning off the news, stopping my RSS feed from MSNBC, and exercising (yes, you read that correctly), I'd still found myself heading toward a funk. For those wondering what funk means: 2) a dejected mood (1735-45) per Dictionary.com.

On a CD about thinking positive, the narrator tells me whenever I start to feel that way, I should think about something that makes me happy. It can be my children, a favorite pet, a special day or whatever you believe will pull you from the edge and keep you on an even keel. I love my kids, but they're grown and I get sad because I miss them. I see one every day as she works with me and the other, I see every other weekend, but it's not the same. All my pets are gone or dead, and with the way Steve and I love to travel, I don't foresee us getting one for many years. Well, you can see how it's going.

So I told myself I had to have something that would make me chill (youthful slang here, might be out of date now though). I couldn't think of anything until last week. Friday was a rough day and I felt my blood pressure hit the roof to the point it scared me. I wasn't mad but upset about a couple things. Anyway, I knew I needed to calm down. So while I listened to the CD again on the way home, it came to me.

When my maternal grandmother was still alive, she owned a home with a wrap around porch on three sides. In the front, she had several white rocking chairs and a wooden swing. From the time I was five or six when she and my granddad moved there and whenever I visited and the weather permitted, I would sit on that swing. Grandmother taught me how to sew and cross stitch on that swing. My cousins and I would giggle until we cried while on that swing. I'd watched rain pour from the eaves while snuggled up to the pillows and reading on that swing. I'd ate homemade ice cream from hand churn buckets while on that swing. I'd listened to Northern Bobwhites and swatted at flies while sitting on that swing. My mom has a dozen pictures of me sitting in that swing.

So Friday, I sat on my couch and closed my eyes, imagining myself sitting on that swing. It was a beautiful clear day. Through my memories I looked at the gray painted board beneath my feet, the front entrance with the dark screen door, and the line of rocking chairs. I smelled the dust from the dirt road and the newly mowed grass. Grandmother's flowers were in full bloom and the bees were buzzing. I was there. I was a preteen again with little to no cares enjoying the peace and quiet.

I actually felt my blood pressure drop. My flushed face cooled off. The high strung feeling melted away. I had found my special place.

What's your special place/memory to help you forget your worries, to mellow?

Oh, Oh, Stephen

Stephen King is a talented man with numerous opinions. I don't always agree but respect him for them. This time he may have bit off more than he can chew. Click here and read, and you may understand how my prior sentence was a pun.

A True Love Story With a Real Stud

My Man's Back!

Thought For The Day

I was wondering today, how many people are giving up writing? With the bad economy and publishers cutting back, even letting go of authors, what are the chances of getting a wonderfully written book in front of the right editor who's willing to take a chance with a new author?

Well, I plan to keep writing and keep submitting.

The Month of Love

I love this website. Great info on so many subjects about history. I can read it for hours and never get enough. The History Channel has a whole page plus more devoted to Valentine's Day. They also tell you how they make chocolate. Yum.