Monday, October 27, 2008


Since I'm going to have to spend a couple of hours in line tomorrow to vote I thought I'd post a couple of political funnies. Yes, I have a particular bias. No, I'm not afraid to express it. Personally I think that healthy disagreement in the area of politics is one of the things that makes our Democratic Republic work.

While I'm not a fan of our current President, I think this says more about the accountability of a "lame duck" than it does about President Bush.

Okay, this one was just funny no matter who you are. I swear my younger sister used to do this.

Now for non-political funnies:

Hope you got at least one giggle. I'm sure Anny Cook, Kelly Marstad, Sandra Cox or Bronwyn Green have much more interesting things to say. Sandra Cox has a contest running with some other great authors so make sure you don't miss her blog.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Sunday Shopping and Worries

We had our usual Sunday today, almost. Smudgie was craving beef the last two days so we finally gave in and headed to the vegetarian’s nightmare. A BBQ restaurant. A mound of smoked, barbecued beef and fries later, and he was a happy little camper. Of course “mound” is a relative term since he’s now pushing up on mommies tummy and it doesn’t take much to fill it up. Same with the bladder.

(These are his first toys, sitting in his crib waiting for Smudgie to arrive.)

After lunch we stopped by the thrift store. It’s a regular routine for us and has been since we discovered we were pregnant. We started looking for cheap baby things. We’ve not bought anything other than the little hooded snuggle towels and some clothes there, but it’s been a wonderful bargain. The clothes they put out are clean and in good repair, unlike some of the more well known thrift stores. We started with newborn and 0-3 month clothes. We’ve filled two dresser drawers with onesies, sleepers and the like. We now have two full drawers of 3-6 month clothes as well.

We figure Smudgie won’t care where his clothes come from and he’ll only be wearing them a matter of weeks before he outgrows them. Why on earth pay $20 an outfit for new clothes? For that matter why pay $5.00 for a onesie when we can get five of them for that cost that are in good condition. Wash them up and they’re good as new. In fact, we found several outfits there that still had the original tags on them. The baby they’d belonged to never even wore them.

I’m a rummage and thrift shop kinda girl. We grew up very poor. Sometimes we didn’t have electricity or running water. A lot of the times we didn’t have much food to go around. I don’t think we actually had a telephone until I was 13 or 14. A lot of our clothes were either made by my great-grandmother or purchased from rummage sales. Our clothes often had patches. I remember my great-grandmother once telling me I had more patch than pants left on a pair of old jeans. That was the way it was.

And it seems as if more and more that’s the way it is today. While at the thrift shop I looked around at some of the people. I saw families shopping for clothes for their children and kids playing with the toys that had been cast off by others and begging their parents for just one. There were young college students and young couples sifting through the pots, pans, beddings and linens trying to outfit a first apartment. And in the rows was a lovely young woman trying on formal dresses for homecoming, a wedding or perhaps her quinceañera.

More and more it seems as if the gap between the “haves” and the “have-nots” is growing. There seem to be relatively few of us “have just enoughs”. Still even those few of us clinging to the middle can only stay there by being careful. Have you looked at your retirement fund lately? Even the state operated funds are in trouble. In GA, our teacher’s retirement board is voting to change the language from “will be given an annual cost of living increase” to “may be given an annual cost of living increase”. This means that the board could vote to hold pension payments at their current rates. When I retire in 20 years or around 2028, I could theoretically be retiring to a pension check that meets the standard of living for 2008. And personal retirement funds? Don’t let them fool you into thinking it’s only the wealthy that are taking a hit. Those are the folks that are so insulated it won’t hurt them.

When I last peeked, my retirement fund had lost 13% over the last 6 months. I’m lucky. I have years ahead to ride it out and for the market to climb back up. But what about those who are facing retirement in the next 5 years? What about the baby boomers who will be flooding into Social Security while those of us in the younger generations are fewer in number and operating on hard economic times?

I think the lessons we need to learn, and that I hope our generation is learning, is one my grandparents taught me. They were the Depression Era children. When you got a job as young as you could and a portion of your wages helped the family. When you pitched in as a family, not just you and your parents but your extended family, and you pulled together. When communities helped each other. Because folks, if we don’t internalize those lessons now, we and our children are facing a hard road ahead.

Wow, lots of serious stuff. How about an excerpt? Soul Stone, due out November 19th is the story of Tarris, an incubus. Tarris makes his first appearance in Mating Stone, the first book in the Jewels of Ursus trilogy.

Excerpt from Mating Stone, available from Ellora's Cave:

Her eyes widened as a man stood up and looked at them. Holy hell! Mark was gorgeous. She adored Mark. Mark made her toes curl and her insides melt. But this man was beyond anything she’d ever seen before. He was desire, he was sex.

His long blond hair hung almost to his waist, flowing loosely around his shoulders. It wasn’t a brash platinum blond but shone like polished gold in the reflected firelight. His eyes were the most blue she’d ever seen, they almost glowed. No one had eyes like that unless they were retouched by special effects experts. It must be a trick of the light, she decided.

He was inches taller than Mark and wore only a neat pair of black slacks. His feet and chest were bare. Sarah felt something very warm begin deep inside her as she looked at that chest. It was tanned and smooth. The way the flicker firelight cast shadows highlighted the definition of the abs and tempted Sarah. The sharply etched muscles seemed to demand she trace them. With hands, lips, tongue, whatever was handy. He didn’t speak but watched her for a minute before smiling. Her body reacted to that smile shamelessly. He broke eye contact and shifted his gaze to Mark.

Sara drew in a sharp breath. What is wrong with you? Mark is standing right behind you and you’re ogling some strange guy. She groaned inwardly. You’re ogling his friend, a guy he called more than a brother.

Mark’s hands came up to rest on her shoulders. She turned to steal a glance at him and saw him smiling down at her. “It’s okay Sarah. Tarris often has that effect on people, men and women. He’s one of the most beautiful beings you’ll ever see.”

She flushed bright red and covered her face with her hands. Mark’s voice came from close to her ear. “He says you are beautiful too.”

Looking up she saw the smile had widened on Tarris’ face. He nodded his agreement with Mark’s words. “But you didn’t speak.” Sarah frowned.

Tarris shook his head, his lips parting to show her straight white teeth. A shiver ran through her and sank deep into the pit of her stomach.

Mark stepped around her. He grabbed his friend in a firm embrace and the two exchanged the manliest hug Sarah had ever seen. Arm still draped around Tarris, Mark turned to her. “Tarris doesn’t speak like you or I.”

“You’re mute?” she asked and he nodded in reply. “But you can hear?”

Tarris nodded again.

“Do you use sign language?” Sarah had learned a bit of finger spelling at summer camp.

The long hair caught the firelight and shimmered as the handsome head shook, the blue eyes crinkling with amusement.

“Don’t worry, he gets his point across,” Mark said wryly, tightening his arm around his friend’s shoulders. A silent laugh shook the blond man’s shoulders. Mark turned to him. “Sarah’s head is feeling funny.” The tone of his voice was as odd as the look he gave his friend. The blue eyes opened wide as if in innocent surprise but his grin twisted up his face revealing a single dimpled cheek. “Right,” Mark said. “Sarah, why don’t you lie down. Tarris and I will have a little talk while you rest.”

“Mark it’s okay, My head will be fine.”

Tarris looked at her intently and gestured toward the bed. She didn’t need Mark to interpret. He too thought she should lie down.

“I can’t just take a nap,” she reasoned with them. “In the middle of your family’s party.”

“Sarah this “party” will go on for hours. No one will notice. Lie down, my love and rest.”

"I don’t…” She was halted by Tarris coming toward her quickly. He reached out and touched her hand. The world swayed and she found herself being swept up into two strong arms. The scent of his skin swirled in her head. He smelt overwhelmingly masculine. An indistinct combination of sandalwood, odd spices, a burning fire and the musky smell of a man’s neck as a woman curled her face into it in the afterglow of hot, passionate sex.

“Show off,” Mark snorted from where he’d already taken a seat in one of the chairs. “It’s probably the heat of the room, Sarah. Tarzan here thinks it should feel like Miami in August. Thankfully it’s winter or he’d be wearing even less.” Tarris smiled down at her gently and shook his head. His expression was playful and said clearly that Mark was positively silly and was not to be believed. He laid her carefully on the bed and slipped off her shoes before pulling a soft blanket from the foot of the bed over her. A charming curve to his lips, he reached out to brush a strand of hair from her forehead. His touch corresponded inexplicably with the thickening of the fogginess in her brain and her eyes felt heavy.

“Sweet dreams, Sarah-mine,” Mark’s voice sounded far away as she drifted off to sleep.
And dreams can be a lot of fun when there's an incubus around...
Now, run off and see what the more interesting folks have in mind. Sandra Cox has a wonderful Halloween contest running with some other great authors. Anny Cook always has great things to say. And check out Kelly Marstad for a little inspirational thought.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

The Joys of Painless FLE's

I have discovered the absolute, sure-fire, unbeatable way to guarantee you have pain free FLE’s. For those of you who may not be familiar with the acronym, FLE stands for final line edits. This is the last once over given to a book before it is released to the public. This is supposed to be the catch all for any errors that may have been missed.

I received my FLE’s for my next release, Soul Stone, recently. Or rather I received a note from my editor saying she’d gotten them and there had been only a few punctuations issues. Nothing for me to bother with at all. So, trust me I know from whence I speak.

Gather round now. The secret to having a guaranteed pain free FLE is…

Have a flipping amazing editor!

And I do. If you know the writers who work with my editor, H., you will notice a pattern. We all feel as if we have been blessed and are the luckiest little scribes about.

So the final chapter in the Jewels of Ursus trilogy will be released on November 19th. Soul Stone isn’t an Ellora’s Cave Jewel as the first two parts were, but is a stand alone novel. It tells the story of Tarris, the incubus who was raised by the shapeshifters he lives with. It will also answer the questions from the first two books about what really happened to drive the twins, Mark and Luke apart and what happened to the youngest Ursine brother who seems to be the cause of the bitterness.

I hope you will find it enjoyable and of course I will be holding a contest to mark the release with a prize. While not a Jewel, opals play an important part in this story and it will be a rainbow opal pendent and earrings that will be given away. So to whet your appetite for the delectable Tarris, check out the amazing cover above from Ellora’s Cave’s cover gods and the blurb. The cover was a dream come true. I begged for a particular model for the cover after myself and several friends who had helped beta read (proof read) Soul Stone saw the man on another cover and went, "Oh my God! That's Tarris!"

Soul Stone
Elyssa Edwards

He is physical perfection. He is sex personified. He is an incubus. All his life Tarris has followed the rules that would keep him from transforming into the dark soulless predator who fed on the sexual energies of women, draining them to madness or to death. But now that he can no longer feed in a safe and controlled way, he faces a choice: hunt or starve. Callista is quiet and reserved. Her restrained exterior hides an astonishing passion and vivid imagination that has captured him. Who knew that a creature that had no soul could love a woman so deeply? Tarris must now find a way to control the change he feels coming and defeat the hunter who pursues him, obsessed with possessing Callista and destroying the incubus.

Monday, October 20, 2008

The new and the odd

I have recently discovered something that may seem a bit odd to many of you, but most people who have tried this swear by it and I have to admit that it did work for me.

A neti pot.

For those not familiar with it, the neti pot is an ancient device that uses saline solution and gravity to flush out the nasal passages. It is purported to help decrease allergies, sinus pressure, sinus infections, and other problems including the headaches and earaches that accompany these conditions.

I acquired a cold this weekend and was fairly miserable. I saw the neti pot while at the pharmacy and decided to try it one the recommendation of a friend. I was amazed. I still had my cold, my sinuses were still inflamed, but by flushing out the nasal passage it cleared a great deal of the congestion. I could breathe again.

I did learn one important lesson the second time I went to use the neti pot. Don’t do this if you can’t get any air passage through one side of your nose. The spout of the neti pot is placed in one nostril. By tilting your head, gravity pulls the water up the passage and out through the other nostril. If you have a completely blocked nasal passage that won’t allow any air through, it isn’t going to allow water through either. The water then seeks its secondary exit. Down the back of your throat, which is not pleasant.

I know it sounds gross and even a bit scary. But I have to admit, it did a wonderful job.

Now some rather odd stories that had me scratching my head today:

Manners are very important, especially if you are breaking the law. I ran across an interesting news story today about a British burglar who broke into a 91 year old woman’s home about 4am one morning. The confrontation frightened the woman considerably. And the good manners part? The burglar sent the woman flowers and a note of apology indicating he regretted frightening her. He’d thought the house was empty. Police are hoping he’ll turn himself in.

And watch out for golfers. Evidently the aging baby-boomer generation is bringing their love of muscle cars to the world of golf. Recently in Utah a man in a “souped up” golf cart managed to evade police cruisers. The suspect had been doing spinouts in a local park when police began to chase him. The officers lost him after he “jumped” a ditch.

Thieves seem to be getting more and more creative these days. And what they’re stealing is getting more unusual. The government of Jamaica is trying to figure out who stole one of their beaches. Yep. One of their beaches. It turns out 500 truckloads of white sand from Coral Springs. The president of Jamaica has demanded that someone explain how 500 truckloads of sand could be stolen without anyone noticing until the dead was done. I’m hoping he’ll share this information with the rest of us.

Urban legends. There are those stories that sound so outrageous that we just have to pause and consider that they are true. Well, a Michigan man has moved one urban legend into the realm of reality. Police arrested a man a couple of days ago for using a carwash vacuum cleaner to…well…do himself a really big favor.

Finally, some female members of the Australian Navy have had their buoyancy improved at the taxpayers’ expense. The Australian Navy has been paying for breast augmentation for what it called “psychological” reasons. It claimed that without the augmentation the female sailors wouldn’t have been fit for deployment.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Blogging Under Protest

I cannot believe I got talked into this. Why can’t I say no to those two? Why are they the only people in the whole of existence with whom my brooding “piss off” glare does not work? I swear if I hear “It will be good for you, James,” or “I don’t think one small favor is too much to ask now, is it?” one more time…

Confused you? Can’t say I’m exactly sorry about that. I’m James. James Edwards, and no I’m not related to Elyssa Edwards though I do happen to know where she has the bodies buried. That was a joke, Jae. A joke. I find I have to explain my jokes to some people because they think I take myself way too seriously. I do. If I didn’t, who the hell else would?

Anyway, the reason you are currently listening/reading me bitch and moan is because the two main females in my life have pressed me into writing this blog. One of them you know or you wouldn’t be reading this. Jacqueline Roth or Jae as most people call her. I call her a nosey pain in my arse. But that’s another story.

You see Jae has this little bit of leverage over me that gets me to do what she wants me to do. She knows everything about me, and I do mean EVERYTHING. She has this massive delusion that she “created” me. It’s total sh— er…crap, but when I argue with her she starts writing down more things about me that I really would rather not have the world know.

But Jae and I have come to a truce. I’ll play nice—most of the time—and she makes sure certain elements of my life don’t get into the hands of people who could make my life even more miserable. Then there is the fact that I sort of owe her. She introduced me to the one person in this screwed up world who actually matters to me. Leah. She’s the other one I can’t seem to win an argument with.

So Jae and Leah double team me tonight and tell me I should take a turn at writing a blog. I don’t even keep a blasted journal, why would I want to keep a blog? What would I possibly have to say to people? I don’t like people as a general rule. Besides, Jae pretty much told you all that’s fit to print about me in that massive invasion of my privacy she calls Access Denied. If we had lawyers in Sanctuary you can bet your arse I’d be figuring out a way to sue her and those people at Cerridwen Press for putting my damned business out there for everyone else to see.

But in the end, the two of them have me by the ba— you get my meaning. If I argue Jae pulls up a blank word doc and flexes her fingers. Then Leah turns those amazing green eyes of hers on me and I’m done for.

I’m a push over where my Leah is concerned, but I’m not stupid. Leah said I had to write at least 500 words and she said it in that “teacher voice” of hers. I’m at 548 right now. Who knew I could manage to do this without really doing anything but crabbing about having to write the blog?

Oh and Jae, the rest of the guys had better have to do this too, or I’m going to be really pissed.
Author's Note:
Dear James,
Thank you, darlin', for doing this. I guess your warm, fuzzy, gooey side is safely hidden away for a bit longer. Now, now. Blackmail is such an ugly word. But not as ugly as "sequel".

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Beam Me Up or Just Send Hugh Jackman

Well, October 14th has come and gone and still no UFO. What am I talking about?

Australian actress and author Blossom Goodchild announced that the aliens with whom she is in contact were scheduled to make a massive 72 hour appearance in the skies over North America beginning today, October 14th. Apparently Ms. Goodchild channeled a message from aliens calling themselves the Federation of Light announcing their impending arrival.

According to Ms. Goodchild the visitors planned to hover for 72 hours so that the media would have a chance to capture their arrival on film. Tired of speculation, evidently the Federation of Light intends to stop the skeptics in their tracks. And the site of this impressive, historic and monumental display?

Alabama. Not Washington, DC. Not New York City. Not Los Angeles. Not even Orlando, Florida where they could mix freely with the characters of the ET ride at Universal Studios. Perhaps the aliens simply picked the first state in alphabetical order.

I live in Georgia just a short distance from Alabama but for my part I’m not hanging out waiting for them. And while we're at it forget the little green men, if the Aussies are going to send something our way can I suggest this:

*Sigh* You gotta love a family man.

Of course over here in Georgia we have our own eye rolling moments. It was a Georgia police officer who was in the center of the recent Big Foot scandal. Two men claimed to have found a carcass belonging to a “big foot”. The men convinced one investor to front them $50,000 to have the necessary tests done on the body to prove it’s authenticity.

In the end all the investor got for his money was a money costume that had been filled with roadkill and stuffed into a small freezer. The roadkill certainly must have made the thing smell authentic. But it turns out that the investor is having the last laugh. The monkey suit is supposedly already up to $200,000 on eBay.

Now let’s all say it together…”A fool and his money are soon parted.”

You see, many people have the mistaken idea that Southerners are somehow less intelligent than the rest of Americans. As a transplant from the Midwest I can tell you that is simply not true. But I believe the problem is directly related to how the media portrays Southerners. Oh, it’s not the media’s fault. As illustrated by the above story and as so articulately summarized by the talented Jeff Foxworthy our entire problem in the south is that we can’t keep the stupidest amongst us off the television.
I'm done, so now swing on over and see what some of the best writers out there have to say. Visit Anny Cook, Kelly Marstad and Sandy Cox.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Just a little funny.

My Resimay

To hoom it mae cunsern,

I waunt to apply for the job what I saw in the paper.

I kin Type realee qwik wit one finggar and do sum a counting. I think I am good on the fone and I no I am a pepole person, Pepole realee seam to reespond too me well. Certain men and all the ladies. I no my spelling is not too good but find that I Offen can get a job wit my persinalety.

My salerery is open so we kin discus wat you want to pay me and wat you think that I am w! erth, I kin start emeditely. Thank yoo in advanse fore yore anser. hopifuly Yore best aplicant so farr.



PS: Because my resimay is a bit short - below is a pickture of me.

Employer's response:

Dear Bubba,

It's OK, we've got spell check.
See you Monday.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Where Have They Gone?

George Washington. Thomas Jefferson. Abraham Lincoln. Theodore Roosevelt. Woodrow Wilson. Dwight D. Eisenhower. John F. Kennedy.

Does anyone else remember the days when the men who held the office of President of the United States were people we could be proud of? Men who were a long way from perfect, but there was an honor and integrity in our political system? These were men we could respect as leaders despite their human flaws; enough so that we carved their faces into mountains, built monuments to their accomplishments and bestowed upon them a level of respect and consideration once they left office.

Now I’m not naïve. I’m perfectly aware that part of the reasons that the populace of the United States was able to do this was two fold. First of all we didn’t see the actual political infighting that occurred. The in-party disagreements about who should or shouldn’t represent the party were kept in backrooms and private conferences. So we didn’t have months of candidates from the various parties slinging mud and insults at each other before the real election ever actually began. Secondly the lower levels of media technology meant that we didn’t have the candidate’s entire lives, good and bad, blasted into our living rooms and flying about the internet to the point of absolute saturation.

This yet another example how our sophistication as a society has robbed us of the innocence that once gave us our heroes and our icons. Should we trade it? Should we go back? Probably not. It’s tempting to want things to be simpler, to be easier. But we also have to remember that simpler and easier, that age of innocence was used against us all as a way of perpetuating institutions in our nation that we as an ethical and enlightened people cannot accept. Innocence, simplicity and ease were used to propagate slavery—not just on the basis of race but the enslavement of multiple sectors of society—and its progeny segregation, gender based discrimination, bias in housing, bias in the work place and more.

But that doesn’t mean that we have to lose that which was good from those times. We can have leaders that are worthy of respect and admiration. But I truly believe that it is up to us as the citizens. We simply have to make it clear that there is behavior we won’t accept. It doesn’t have to do with political or social positions. It doesn’t have to do with the foibles that these people may have. It has to do with refusing to accept people who cannot lead without showing respect, dignity and class.

Yes, this is me pinging off to another topic again.
We are eight weeks and counting. Momma is getting more and more nervous. But I have to tell you I work with the greatest bunch of people in the world.

I work in a small school system that is in the Metro Atlanta area and we are getting more and more Metro all the time. But what makes this particular middle school special is that we are a family. We don't always agree with each other, we argue and we huff but we get over it and move on. We support each other and it has been wonderful. My school is such a special place that I drive an hour and a half in the morning and two hours in the afternoon to work there.

My family situation is not exactly traditional. Ward and June Cleaver we aren't. I'm not even sure we qualify as Mike and Carol Brady, though considering the current state of my house I really wish I had an Alice around to help out. But the people I work with have been tremendously supportive of me as a writer and in this journey to enlarge our family. One co-worker has already raided the sales racks at Kohls and given us a sack full of clothes sized to fit Z during the summer months. When I shook my head and told her she shouldn't have, she grinned and said they were on sale. And that was that. They are all eager and supportive of this pregnancy, asking regularly how things are going. Another lady has brought me fabric to make sheets for our Moses basket and covers for the changing pad.

And my students are also excited, but not very happy at the prospect of a long term sub. They've been making suggestions for what work I should leave them and what subs are "nice". Now I have to seriously start planning for when I'm out. What do you leave your students to do for several weeks under the teaching of someone else?

So, we are eight weeks from launch. The next couple of months will see two of my "children" meet the world. November 19th will be the release of Soul Stone, the final book in the Jewels of Ursus trilogy from Ellora's Cave and my dear little incubus Tarris will be learning to fly solo. Then, a matter of a couple of weeks later, my little Z will make his appearance.

I had the most amazing dream last night. I dreamt he was already here, I was holding him and talking to him. It was such a sweet and warm feeling to hold him. It may sound odd, but I read to Z almost every night. I read picture books. We've read Have You Got My Purr; The Monster at The End of This Book; Chrysanthemum; Llama, Llama, Red Pajamas; Don't Let the Pigeon Drive The Bus and many more.

Okay, now head on over and see what Anny Cook, Kelly Marstad and Sandra Cox have to say. And be sure to check out some of the other blogs to the left and the ones on these ladies reading lists as well. There's a lot of good stuff out there.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Holding your breath

I'm having one of those moments in life when you feel like someone put you in a pressure cooker and turned the clamp down really tight. And as our little kitty here points out, you can only hold your breath for so long before you gotta come up for air.

But, as I've learned from some folks around me, you have to let a little zen in your life and realize that sometimes you just have to hold that breath a bit longer than others. So there is that. Do I regret my rant yesterday? No. It was something that had to be said from my point of view and I don't regret saying it. Like I said yesterday, I doubt some of the individuals to whom it was directed would even see it here on my blog. That part I do regret.
I have two signs hanging over my desk at work. One is a quote I adore from Eleanor Roosevelt. "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." It is one of the most important truisms I've run acrossed in my life. If we refuse to allow others to belittle us then they cannot. So if you feel like someone is holding your head underwater and waiting for you to drown, take a deep breath. They are hoping you won't discover that you can breathe just fine underwater.

But you can. We all can. Maybe, just maybe you will discover that you were meant to be a fish. A beautiful neon-colored fish that nurtures the environment, provides pleasure and beauty to the world and who plays with the fishermen who can only hook you if you let yourself be hooked. Otherwise play with the bait and leave them with an empty hook.
I said I have two signs. The other sign says "Don't make me break out my flying monkeys." This sign is for the days when I can't quite hear Eleanor above the rushing of the rapids.
Now, hurry over and read what Anny Cook, Kelly Marstad and Sandra Cox have to say.

Monday, October 6, 2008

I'll bet you've known one.

Have you ever known someone who didn’t know the difference between being blunt, assertive and outspoken and being rude, bitchy and petty? I’m sure you have. We all do. These are the people who feel they can act with complete impunity because anyone who reacts negatively to them or gets upset at all is being too sensitive or is too thin-skinned. After all, they were just speaking their mind and everyone who knows them knows that’s just the way they are.

It’s been my experience that people like this are exceptionally narcissistic and quick to take offense. I know this may sound like a harsher topic for my blog than I normally write about, but it seems as if I’ve been bombarded with individuals like this of late and the whole “be understanding” thing is getting old. So I’d just like to go on record with the following:

1. Being rude is not the same as being outspoken. You can speak your mind and be honest with those around you without being rude. You have a choice of how you say things to others and if you don’t have the time or consideration for others to find nice ways of telling the truth then the rest of us would prefer if you shared your “feelings” and your “honesty” with the mirror and not the rest of us. And that friend who finds your outspoken nature refreshing will only find it so until you turn your rudeness back on them.

2. Being assertive is different than being a bitch. Someone who is assertive states their position, needs, desires and plans in a way that makes their position clear without infringing upon the other person. Sometimes asserting yourself will create hard feelings. That cannot be avoided. However, that does not mean you have the right to be petty and bitchy about everything around you and expect people to just take it because you were just being assertive. Got news for ya, darlin’, the rest of us have a right to assert our own positions, needs, desires and plans, too. And no we will not necessarily be swayed or change our plans because you don’t like it.

3. And finally, yes in most of the western world you have a protected right to free speech within limits. Those limits vary. For example in the US you cannot yell “fire” in a crowded theater. You cannot incite others to violence. You are not supposed to yell “jump” at the guy standing on the ledge. These are not protected speech. So go on and say whatever you want to say, however you want to say it. However remember, honey, you are going to look around one day and find that the only person you have left to be petty, catty and bitchy to is wearing your underwear.

Is this post targeted to specific people? You bet it is. Not all of whom will ever see this blog. Why not, you ask, address this issue directly with them? Mostly because they chose not to address issues privately but used them for their own personal fodder, glorification and in attempts to sound oh-so-witty and blaise, so why should my response not be just as public?

Thursday, October 2, 2008

I'm Nominated!

My first novel, Access Denied, has been nominated by Night Owl Romance for the best SciFi/Fantasy/Futuristic novel for Fall 2009. I'm thrilled, needless to say.
Anyone who would like to cast a vote for my book can go to the voting page here.
Access Denied was my first novel and as such holds a special place in my heart. I wrote the book over about a 9 month period and during that time my heroine Leah wasn't the only one who fell in love with my hero, James. I did as well.