Episode one-
It all started with evil Annabelle taking the last of the bacon, which was supposed to be mine. The argument was short, and Mom sided with Annabelle, so I snagged the last two pieces of toast and stuffed them in my mouth before the evil one could grab any. I would have stuck out my tongue, for good measure, but it was sort of encased in bread at the moment.
Back in my room, I reached for my backpack only to find that the contents had been scattered across the floor and Deep Dungeon VI (which I had stashed in my secret pouch) was missing.
"MOM!" Bread crumbs sprayed from my mouth, but I didn't care. Mom would make me vacuum after school, but it didn't matter. Little Jimmy, my brother and nemesis, had stolen my new game. His crib lay empty and there was no telling where the little demon had got to.
"MOM!"
"Stop yelling at me, Alec." Mom came up the stairs with a basket of laundry on her hip, completely unfazed by the tragedy at hand.
"Jimmy stole my game!"
At that moment, the little turd emerged from the bathroom, false smile in place so that Mom wouldn't know what he really was.
"I go potty," he said.
"Where's my game you little--"
"Alec," Mom warned.
I knew what she would say. Be nice to your brother. But she didn't understand what I had to deal with. "He took my game and wrecked my backpack. Why can't I have my own room, with a lock on the door?"
Mom ignored me and picked up the demon. And kissed him! Sure, that will teach him to be better behaved. His eyes darted toward me, gleaming with triumph.
"Did you take Alec's game, Jimmy?"
"No," Turd Boy answered. "It fell."
"Fell where?" I insisted.
"In the potty."
Horror gripped me as I rushed into the bathroom and looked down into the toilet. Sure enough, the black and silver square of my new game stared back up at me through the tainted water. Words failed me; I just stood there, gaping, fuming. Mom came up beside me and, about two seconds after I hoped she might reach down there and save my game said, "If you had cleaned this indoor-outhouse like I told you yesterday, it wouldn't look so bad."
Then she turned around and left me there.
"Wait," I cried, blinking back any evidence of tears. "How am I supposed to get it back?"
"You have fifteen minutes before the bus comes to figure it out."
... Will Alec brave the Pee-Pot? Can Deep Dungeon VI be saved? Tune in next time when our hero gets flushed.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Hello World
It was never my intention to leave off blogging forever, but demons sometimes get the better of folks when they least expect them. And then those folks must do nothing but sit on the couch and read unmentionable books for six months straight.
I'm still here and, more importantly, I'm still writing. There's a certain joy to be had in one's favored hobby, and I'm lucky enough to have enough of them --hobbies that is--that I should never get bored. (a very good theory, that) :) So far, this has been a year of goal setting and goal reaching for me. As soon as I'd crawled out of my personal PIT OF DESPAIR (cue creepy music), I determined to write another novel. In about three months. Which, if any of you are accustomed to writing will know is not such a difficult task. Sometimes.
And I reached it. Yay for me!
Naturally, I have other, less glamorous goals, but I won't bore you with the list. And obstacles, there were (are) many, but you don't want to hear about the gut-wrenching agony of those, or about leaking roofs and broken mowers, gremlin children and what-not. Suffice it to say that all those things exist and we'll leave it at that. In the mean time, I'm still bouncing on my cloud of anxiousness, waiting for the publishing rainbow to shine on me.
Wish me luck!
So, not only did I tuck another finished story under my belt, I also managed to get said story under the noses of a couple of agents. Whether that pans out any gold remains to be seen, but I can say that I've been checking my e-mail obsessively. Of course!
I'm still here and, more importantly, I'm still writing. There's a certain joy to be had in one's favored hobby, and I'm lucky enough to have enough of them --hobbies that is--that I should never get bored. (a very good theory, that) :) So far, this has been a year of goal setting and goal reaching for me. As soon as I'd crawled out of my personal PIT OF DESPAIR (cue creepy music), I determined to write another novel. In about three months. Which, if any of you are accustomed to writing will know is not such a difficult task. Sometimes.
And I reached it. Yay for me!
Naturally, I have other, less glamorous goals, but I won't bore you with the list. And obstacles, there were (are) many, but you don't want to hear about the gut-wrenching agony of those, or about leaking roofs and broken mowers, gremlin children and what-not. Suffice it to say that all those things exist and we'll leave it at that. In the mean time, I'm still bouncing on my cloud of anxiousness, waiting for the publishing rainbow to shine on me.
Wish me luck!
So, not only did I tuck another finished story under my belt, I also managed to get said story under the noses of a couple of agents. Whether that pans out any gold remains to be seen, but I can say that I've been checking my e-mail obsessively. Of course!
Sunday, August 8, 2010
More of my reads
How very dull my blog has become, listing book after book of what I've been reading, and not telling any of the great stories that make up my life. Where has the fun gone? Where is the enthusiasm?
Beats the tar out of me. I'm on the last stretch of summer vacation, the true test of endurance for any full-time parent. The rosy tint has gone out of my glasses and my chauffeur's hat is seeing more use that I care to admit. Bleh.
As a recent convert to the ways of insomnia, I'm tired, and easily irritated. My diet is, once again, forgotten by the wayside. Or, perhaps a better description would be to say that I ate my diet for breakfast, and a whole lot of other diets for lunch, dinner, and dessert.
Maybe my stomach hurts, and maybe my hair is falling out, and maybe my life has become a little box of library take-out, but... um... the bright side is that there is that person called "Grandma" who is still crazy enou-- I mean willing to lend aid in these dark hours of summer boredom.
Bless you, Grandma.
Dragonbreath by Ursula Vernon--
What a cute story! I think it is for the elementary level, and all of my elementary kids loved it. They can't wait to see the next installment... something about ninja frogs. :)
White Cat by Holly Black and Tithe and Ironside--
First, White Cat: the story was great, the writing was great. I was so impressed, that I sought out other stories by the same author. Which leads us to Tithe. Imagine my disappointment when I picked up this book and found an abundance of foul language, which is always a sore spot for me. Language is not my only complaint, though. This story reads like a draft that didn't quite make it through all the revisions. There were many parts of the story that simply did not make sense, and I plowed on ahead with the hope that, eventually, it would. It didn't. That being said, the part of the story that made enough sense for me to follow was actually good enough to carry me through to the end and give me the strength to pick up the sequel.
Ironside (the sequel in question) is a much better read that its predecessor, better told and better crafted. Language is still a complaint (though not as much as in the last book), as is the moral issue of sexuality in one of the principal characters. Steer clear if such things offend you.
Only the Good Spy Young by Ally Carter--
This fourth book in the Gallagher Girls' series contains the same fun and excitement that has come to be expected from these YA spy books. A good read for the young and old alike.
Beats the tar out of me. I'm on the last stretch of summer vacation, the true test of endurance for any full-time parent. The rosy tint has gone out of my glasses and my chauffeur's hat is seeing more use that I care to admit. Bleh.
As a recent convert to the ways of insomnia, I'm tired, and easily irritated. My diet is, once again, forgotten by the wayside. Or, perhaps a better description would be to say that I ate my diet for breakfast, and a whole lot of other diets for lunch, dinner, and dessert.
Maybe my stomach hurts, and maybe my hair is falling out, and maybe my life has become a little box of library take-out, but... um... the bright side is that there is that person called "Grandma" who is still crazy enou-- I mean willing to lend aid in these dark hours of summer boredom.
Bless you, Grandma.
Dragonbreath by Ursula Vernon--
What a cute story! I think it is for the elementary level, and all of my elementary kids loved it. They can't wait to see the next installment... something about ninja frogs. :)
White Cat by Holly Black and Tithe and Ironside--
First, White Cat: the story was great, the writing was great. I was so impressed, that I sought out other stories by the same author. Which leads us to Tithe. Imagine my disappointment when I picked up this book and found an abundance of foul language, which is always a sore spot for me. Language is not my only complaint, though. This story reads like a draft that didn't quite make it through all the revisions. There were many parts of the story that simply did not make sense, and I plowed on ahead with the hope that, eventually, it would. It didn't. That being said, the part of the story that made enough sense for me to follow was actually good enough to carry me through to the end and give me the strength to pick up the sequel.
Ironside (the sequel in question) is a much better read that its predecessor, better told and better crafted. Language is still a complaint (though not as much as in the last book), as is the moral issue of sexuality in one of the principal characters. Steer clear if such things offend you.
Only the Good Spy Young by Ally Carter--
This fourth book in the Gallagher Girls' series contains the same fun and excitement that has come to be expected from these YA spy books. A good read for the young and old alike.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Those First Ten Minutes
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe, she had so many children that she didn't know what to do. Her poor old body was so out of shape, that she struggled almost daily with ways of getting her BC (before children) shape back. She tried joining a gym, but it was so expensive, and such a hassle that she had to let the membership expire. She tried dieting, but her willpower was weakened after a stressful day with the kids, and she couldn't stick to it.
Long walks outside worked, until it got so hot she couldn't bear to leave her air-conditioned shoehouse. And, of course, there was the problem of who would watch the little one while she was out walking for an hour (Nobody volunteered). One day, the old woman asked her husband to buy her an elliptical for her birthday, so she could exercise at will in the comfort of her living room. This was fine, as long as she could force herself to actually do the time on the equipment, which was spotty for about two weeks and ended with the usual discouraged, "What's the use?"
Time passed and the elliptical saw seldom use. The children viewed it as an indoor playground, racing to climb to the top and smearing their filthy fingers across the ceiling, pushing random buttons to hear them beep, and hanging from the handlebars by their knees. The old woman kept dusting it off, thinking she ought to make use of the machine, but then got side-tracked with all her other responsibilities. She kept on dieting and walking, sporadically, trying and failing to loose those extra pounds, and forgot all about the elliptical until one day when her husband asked, "Why don't you use the exercise machine?"
"Oh!" she says. "I forgot all about that thing." Not forgot-forgot... you see, it's a rather large piece of equipment, and took up a huge corner of the living room. But it had been such a fixture for such a long time that she forgot she was supposed to be using it. So she resolved to use it once more, after all, what did she have to lose besides what wouldn't be missed? (some fifteen pounds or more)
The first thirty seconds were easy enough. The old woman was proud of herself for getting on the machine; she even envisioned fitting into those pants she bought a couple of years ago, the ones that almost fit... before she had that last little boy and gained another... um, well, more weight. After about a minute and a half, sweat beaded up on her forehead and her legs ached in protest. "This is harder than I thought," she mumbled.
She closed her eyes for a while, forcing herself not to look at the flashing numbers that displayed her dismal progress, hoping that if she didn't look, the time would go by faster. When she opened her eyes, she had only accumulated three minutes. Her chest hurt, her palms grew slick. "I'm not going to make it," she thought. Still, she kept going.
The children gathered around, watching her sweaty, awkward struggle atop their favorite indoor toy, and immediately sprouted tons of questions that she had not the breath to answer. They eventually lost interest and moved on, but the old woman looked down at her accumulated time, ready to drop from exhaustion. Seven minutes.
"You have got to be kidding!" Her throat closed in and sweat poured down her face, into her eyes and down her neck. "I need a towel," she thought. "I need a drink. I need a break." But she knew that if she got off, she might never get back on again. So she kept going, her chest on fire with the labored breaths of a terribly out-of-shape person.
She thought of the story about the little engine that could, tried to believe in herself, but the time flashed up again. Eight minutes. She wanted to scream. She thought of all those movie stars, bouncing back from pregnancy like they hadn't gained an ounce, but that was hardly encouraging, since everyone knew that Hollywood was full of plastic surgeons and highly-paid personal trainers. Neither of which she had.
"Ten minutes," she thought. "I can do just ten minutes." Eight minutes and fifty-nine seconds... one minute to go. "I think I can, I think I can." As the seconds ticked by and her legs kept pumping, it seemed as though time had slowed to extend her torture. She wiped her face with the bottom of her shirt, focused on a spot before her, at some odd piece of artwork one of her kids had taped to the wall, and pushed onward.
Ten minutes came at last, but the old woman found that once it had passed, her legs had stopped aching so much, and her chest had gotten (somewhat) used to the new rhythm she'd found on her machine. Realizing that she actually could do it, she kept going.
Some of you might think this is silly, but I can attest to the difficulty of those first ten minutes, or even to the difficulty of that first blank page, that first ten thousand words, or whatever the difficulty that may have you daunted. As you stand before that impossibly messy room, or overgrown jungle of a yard, remember that the longest journey begins with but a single step, and even the largest elephant is eaten one bite at a time. The old woman who is a walking, talking stretch mark will lose the unwanted weight, but only if she doesn't give up.
So help me God.
Wings and Spells by Aprilynne Pike--
Reading Wings was a pleasant surprise for me, it being different than what I had expected, and I really enjoyed delving into Ms. Pike's fairy world... so much so, I couldn't wait to get to the library and check out the sequel. Spells (the sequel) I'm afraid was rather disappointing. The action was spotty and the descriptive, non-action sequences tended to drone on and on. Having said this, I am not entirely turned off to this particular series, just mildly disappointed. When the time comes that the next book reveals itself, I will read it.
The Cardturner by Louis Sachar--
I enjoyed this book, though not as much as my teen-aged son. I think Mr. Sachar's books tend to cater toward the male reader, though not so much that girls would dislike his stories (since I know that many girls do, like them, that is). The Cardturner was an interesting story of a boy and his dying great-uncle, the mystery that is the past when relayed incorrectly by others, and a touch of paranormal phenomenon. It's also about bridge, the card game. For those that don't wish to learn about bridge, the story might lean toward the dull side, but if you can skim over those details, sufficiently knowing that you don't understand (unless of course you do understand, and good for you!) then you might like this story as well. However, if you are looking for a gripping action novel, look somewhere else.
The Prince of Mist by Carlos Ruiz Zafon--
I'm not really so into ghost stories that I purposely seek them out, but this one found it's way into my arms and I really enjoyed most of it. There was sufficient spookiness with the mystery that unfolded, but it was the ending that changed a "liked" book into a "not-so-liked" one. What can I say without ruining it? I simply felt that the author's choice on how to end this story was unsatisfactory. It felt unfinished to me.
Lips Touch Three Times by Laini Taylor--
Ms. Laini Taylor may just be a name to watch for in the future--like on the New York Times bestseller list. This book was a collection of three short stories hinging on a kiss. The first I didn't like so well, because it had that same feeling of being unfinished that bothers me so much. The second was better, all the loose ends tied together by the end of the story, and the third was, I think, the best of them all. The writing was superb, the telling, spellbinding. My only complaint is that these were all such short stories that I wanted them to last a little longer--Perhaps they could have been extended, but such is not for me to decide, now is it?
Long walks outside worked, until it got so hot she couldn't bear to leave her air-conditioned shoehouse. And, of course, there was the problem of who would watch the little one while she was out walking for an hour (Nobody volunteered). One day, the old woman asked her husband to buy her an elliptical for her birthday, so she could exercise at will in the comfort of her living room. This was fine, as long as she could force herself to actually do the time on the equipment, which was spotty for about two weeks and ended with the usual discouraged, "What's the use?"
Time passed and the elliptical saw seldom use. The children viewed it as an indoor playground, racing to climb to the top and smearing their filthy fingers across the ceiling, pushing random buttons to hear them beep, and hanging from the handlebars by their knees. The old woman kept dusting it off, thinking she ought to make use of the machine, but then got side-tracked with all her other responsibilities. She kept on dieting and walking, sporadically, trying and failing to loose those extra pounds, and forgot all about the elliptical until one day when her husband asked, "Why don't you use the exercise machine?"
"Oh!" she says. "I forgot all about that thing." Not forgot-forgot... you see, it's a rather large piece of equipment, and took up a huge corner of the living room. But it had been such a fixture for such a long time that she forgot she was supposed to be using it. So she resolved to use it once more, after all, what did she have to lose besides what wouldn't be missed? (some fifteen pounds or more)
The first thirty seconds were easy enough. The old woman was proud of herself for getting on the machine; she even envisioned fitting into those pants she bought a couple of years ago, the ones that almost fit... before she had that last little boy and gained another... um, well, more weight. After about a minute and a half, sweat beaded up on her forehead and her legs ached in protest. "This is harder than I thought," she mumbled.
She closed her eyes for a while, forcing herself not to look at the flashing numbers that displayed her dismal progress, hoping that if she didn't look, the time would go by faster. When she opened her eyes, she had only accumulated three minutes. Her chest hurt, her palms grew slick. "I'm not going to make it," she thought. Still, she kept going.
The children gathered around, watching her sweaty, awkward struggle atop their favorite indoor toy, and immediately sprouted tons of questions that she had not the breath to answer. They eventually lost interest and moved on, but the old woman looked down at her accumulated time, ready to drop from exhaustion. Seven minutes.
"You have got to be kidding!" Her throat closed in and sweat poured down her face, into her eyes and down her neck. "I need a towel," she thought. "I need a drink. I need a break." But she knew that if she got off, she might never get back on again. So she kept going, her chest on fire with the labored breaths of a terribly out-of-shape person.
She thought of the story about the little engine that could, tried to believe in herself, but the time flashed up again. Eight minutes. She wanted to scream. She thought of all those movie stars, bouncing back from pregnancy like they hadn't gained an ounce, but that was hardly encouraging, since everyone knew that Hollywood was full of plastic surgeons and highly-paid personal trainers. Neither of which she had.
"Ten minutes," she thought. "I can do just ten minutes." Eight minutes and fifty-nine seconds... one minute to go. "I think I can, I think I can." As the seconds ticked by and her legs kept pumping, it seemed as though time had slowed to extend her torture. She wiped her face with the bottom of her shirt, focused on a spot before her, at some odd piece of artwork one of her kids had taped to the wall, and pushed onward.
Ten minutes came at last, but the old woman found that once it had passed, her legs had stopped aching so much, and her chest had gotten (somewhat) used to the new rhythm she'd found on her machine. Realizing that she actually could do it, she kept going.
Some of you might think this is silly, but I can attest to the difficulty of those first ten minutes, or even to the difficulty of that first blank page, that first ten thousand words, or whatever the difficulty that may have you daunted. As you stand before that impossibly messy room, or overgrown jungle of a yard, remember that the longest journey begins with but a single step, and even the largest elephant is eaten one bite at a time. The old woman who is a walking, talking stretch mark will lose the unwanted weight, but only if she doesn't give up.
So help me God.
Wings and Spells by Aprilynne Pike--
Reading Wings was a pleasant surprise for me, it being different than what I had expected, and I really enjoyed delving into Ms. Pike's fairy world... so much so, I couldn't wait to get to the library and check out the sequel. Spells (the sequel) I'm afraid was rather disappointing. The action was spotty and the descriptive, non-action sequences tended to drone on and on. Having said this, I am not entirely turned off to this particular series, just mildly disappointed. When the time comes that the next book reveals itself, I will read it.
The Cardturner by Louis Sachar--
I enjoyed this book, though not as much as my teen-aged son. I think Mr. Sachar's books tend to cater toward the male reader, though not so much that girls would dislike his stories (since I know that many girls do, like them, that is). The Cardturner was an interesting story of a boy and his dying great-uncle, the mystery that is the past when relayed incorrectly by others, and a touch of paranormal phenomenon. It's also about bridge, the card game. For those that don't wish to learn about bridge, the story might lean toward the dull side, but if you can skim over those details, sufficiently knowing that you don't understand (unless of course you do understand, and good for you!) then you might like this story as well. However, if you are looking for a gripping action novel, look somewhere else.
The Prince of Mist by Carlos Ruiz Zafon--
I'm not really so into ghost stories that I purposely seek them out, but this one found it's way into my arms and I really enjoyed most of it. There was sufficient spookiness with the mystery that unfolded, but it was the ending that changed a "liked" book into a "not-so-liked" one. What can I say without ruining it? I simply felt that the author's choice on how to end this story was unsatisfactory. It felt unfinished to me.
Lips Touch Three Times by Laini Taylor--
Ms. Laini Taylor may just be a name to watch for in the future--like on the New York Times bestseller list. This book was a collection of three short stories hinging on a kiss. The first I didn't like so well, because it had that same feeling of being unfinished that bothers me so much. The second was better, all the loose ends tied together by the end of the story, and the third was, I think, the best of them all. The writing was superb, the telling, spellbinding. My only complaint is that these were all such short stories that I wanted them to last a little longer--Perhaps they could have been extended, but such is not for me to decide, now is it?
Monday, July 19, 2010
Those endless summer days
Besides keeping house, toilet-training my toddler, feeding my hoard, chasing my sanity, preparing submissions, and reading a friend's book, I continue to work toward my reading goal--though I can't remember what (exactly) it was supposed to be. Anyway, I do like to read, so here's the latest on my list:
Runaway by Meg Cabot--
Ms. Cabot has written many successful, interesting, even gripping, teen romances. This third and last installment of the Airhead series is not one of them. I found this particular series to be excessively drawn out with annoying repetitions that (I think) set a very poor example of how a book should be written. Cabot's fans must be disappointed with her latest works.
Gregor and the Code of Claw by Suzanne Collins--
At long last, I got to read the last installment of the Underland Chronicles. And, as expected, I loved it. Collins' expertise in creating an alternate world makes her readers want to return again and again. It makes me kind of sad, though, that this was the last. The end... But I do get to look forward to her next book, Mockingjay, which is sure to be a thrilling crowd pleaser the whole world over.
Runaway by Meg Cabot--
Ms. Cabot has written many successful, interesting, even gripping, teen romances. This third and last installment of the Airhead series is not one of them. I found this particular series to be excessively drawn out with annoying repetitions that (I think) set a very poor example of how a book should be written. Cabot's fans must be disappointed with her latest works.
Gregor and the Code of Claw by Suzanne Collins--
At long last, I got to read the last installment of the Underland Chronicles. And, as expected, I loved it. Collins' expertise in creating an alternate world makes her readers want to return again and again. It makes me kind of sad, though, that this was the last. The end... But I do get to look forward to her next book, Mockingjay, which is sure to be a thrilling crowd pleaser the whole world over.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Reflection
School has been out for a solid couple of weeks now, and for a lot of folks (and by folks, I mean stay-at-home-mothers with school children) this is a time for going crazy, pulling hair out, and seeking psychiatric help. But since we've already established that I'm insane, I have only one way to go, I guess. Or maybe not, though it is probably best not to think on it too much.
I have often complained about my children vying for computer time. In my house, that means a lot of begging and whining and "When are you going to get off the computer, Mom?" This was quite a hamper to my writer's adrenaline, but I have a wonderful announcement to make...
No, we did not get another computer. Sheesh, do I look like I'm made of money? No, no, no. The solution to my problem was quite simple. All children in my house wishing to get a turn on the computer must now complete some kind of helpful chore around the house.
It is pure genius, though I say it myself. The lazy ones have stopped asking, and the others have proved that they actually DO know how to wash dishes, pick up toys, and clean the bathroom! Why didn't I think of this sooner??? I can't remember the last time my house has been so clean.
Oh well. Invention's mother and necessity, and all that. I am still awaiting many other miraculous things (a stove that cooks for me, money that grows on trees, and a certain somebody becoming toilet trained), but for the time being, I find that I am quite content. (a partial quote from one of my favorite books.)
Before I go back to the lovely library, I will share my latest reads:
Glass Houses and The Dead Girls' Dance by Rachel Caine--
These are the first two books in the Morganville Vampires series. Ms. Caine can write a real grabber of a book, that I can say without reserve. I enjoyed tearing through these, completely caught up in the story and wanting to know what happened next. Only after coming down from the "book high" of reading these back-to-back could I see that the story is less novel-like and more suitable to a television series, due to the never-ending effect of lengthy series and the sensationalism, at which she is quite apt. Now, I have no idea how long this particular series runs, but I'd bet it goes on for a good, long stretch. If that sort of thing doesn't rub you wrong, then here's some teen/young adult fiction for you.
Gregor and the Curse of the Warmbloods and Gregor and the Marks of Secret by Suzanne Collins--
Fantastic. I've said it before, and it bears telling again: I love Suzanne Collins. Each of these books is different and independent, a complete story that connects with the previous and successive stories. I wonder if Mrs. Collins ever takes writing nobodies under her wing. Wouldn't I love to be that nobody, to drool on her shadow...
That's enough of that. I had a quiet Fourth, hope you all had fun with that birthday bash. I'm sorry for the one who broke her toe, but consider, my friend, all the writing you can do with that foot up. :)
I have often complained about my children vying for computer time. In my house, that means a lot of begging and whining and "When are you going to get off the computer, Mom?" This was quite a hamper to my writer's adrenaline, but I have a wonderful announcement to make...
No, we did not get another computer. Sheesh, do I look like I'm made of money? No, no, no. The solution to my problem was quite simple. All children in my house wishing to get a turn on the computer must now complete some kind of helpful chore around the house.
It is pure genius, though I say it myself. The lazy ones have stopped asking, and the others have proved that they actually DO know how to wash dishes, pick up toys, and clean the bathroom! Why didn't I think of this sooner??? I can't remember the last time my house has been so clean.
Oh well. Invention's mother and necessity, and all that. I am still awaiting many other miraculous things (a stove that cooks for me, money that grows on trees, and a certain somebody becoming toilet trained), but for the time being, I find that I am quite content. (a partial quote from one of my favorite books.)
Before I go back to the lovely library, I will share my latest reads:
Glass Houses and The Dead Girls' Dance by Rachel Caine--
These are the first two books in the Morganville Vampires series. Ms. Caine can write a real grabber of a book, that I can say without reserve. I enjoyed tearing through these, completely caught up in the story and wanting to know what happened next. Only after coming down from the "book high" of reading these back-to-back could I see that the story is less novel-like and more suitable to a television series, due to the never-ending effect of lengthy series and the sensationalism, at which she is quite apt. Now, I have no idea how long this particular series runs, but I'd bet it goes on for a good, long stretch. If that sort of thing doesn't rub you wrong, then here's some teen/young adult fiction for you.
Gregor and the Curse of the Warmbloods and Gregor and the Marks of Secret by Suzanne Collins--
Fantastic. I've said it before, and it bears telling again: I love Suzanne Collins. Each of these books is different and independent, a complete story that connects with the previous and successive stories. I wonder if Mrs. Collins ever takes writing nobodies under her wing. Wouldn't I love to be that nobody, to drool on her shadow...
That's enough of that. I had a quiet Fourth, hope you all had fun with that birthday bash. I'm sorry for the one who broke her toe, but consider, my friend, all the writing you can do with that foot up. :)
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Last Chance for June
So, it's the last day of June and today is absolutely gorgeous! Yet here I am, tapping away on my keyboard. I need a life. Seriously. If I hadn't injured myself recently, I'd go out and pull some weeds. Or something akin to work.
Everything kind of slows down for me in the summer, and I won't say that's a bad thing, just harder to measure progress when I get to sleep in till nine and make my kids do the odd jobs around the house that I don't feel like doing. And then I get more time on the computer (in theory).
And, of course, the library folks love me, because I'm a regular. I have only one book to record because it's due soon...
Nightmare Academy by Frank Peretti--
Why has it taken me so long to discover Peretti? I really like his stuff, and this one--the second in the Veritas series--is just as gripping as his first. I am only disappointed by the fact that my library does not have the next book in this series. :(
Well, I do have other books to read, and many projects to write. Guess I'd better get busy with something. TTFN
Everything kind of slows down for me in the summer, and I won't say that's a bad thing, just harder to measure progress when I get to sleep in till nine and make my kids do the odd jobs around the house that I don't feel like doing. And then I get more time on the computer (in theory).
And, of course, the library folks love me, because I'm a regular. I have only one book to record because it's due soon...
Nightmare Academy by Frank Peretti--
Why has it taken me so long to discover Peretti? I really like his stuff, and this one--the second in the Veritas series--is just as gripping as his first. I am only disappointed by the fact that my library does not have the next book in this series. :(
Well, I do have other books to read, and many projects to write. Guess I'd better get busy with something. TTFN
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