A Little Knowledge Goes Nowhere

The Simpsons was on earlier, and in the episode Mr. Burns says to Homer: I like the cut of your jib.

Dayan asked me what that meant. I said, 'he likes his style/how he operates.' Which was correct. But I incorrectly added that I *thought* a jib was an article of clothing. Since I was on the laptop I decided to google it because I really didn't know what a jib was.

Turns out a jib is one of the triangular sails on a ship, and that different nationalities of ships had different styles of jibs. They were easily identifiable from afar, which allowed sailors to make their judgement on the approaching ship. Hence the phrase being about liking what you see of a person's appearance or character.

Edited to add: check out the comments, where Meljean Brooks has provided a more complete explanation.

I came across this cool post on vintage menswear while googling:

I Like the Cut of Your Jib, Sir.."



VJ says: Those are some boney-assed manorexic knees, young Charlton Heston and Spencer Tracy.

Another link I found said the turn of speech didn't enter the popular lexicon until:


The phrase became used in an idiomatic way during the 19th century. Sir Walter Scott used to it in St. Ronan's Well, 1824:

"If she disliked what the sailor calls the cut of their jib."

There may be an allusion between the triangular shape of noses and jibs in the figurative use of this phrase, but this isn't authenticated.

Hmmm... is it me. or does that comment about noses hint at the possible anti-Semitic sentiments of times past?


Moving along, here's where things get ridiculous. I thought the Sir Walter Scott reference was a bit of a vague jump-off point for the phrase to enter mainstream language/slang and decided to dig further. Enter the Yahoo! Answers message boards.

The question posted two years ago on the board was this:

"If someone tells you that they 'like the cut of your jib,' what does it mean?
A guy told me this in an email and I don't know how to respond."


This was one of the answers:

well, basically, he, means, that, he, likes, the, way, you, cut, your, jib. some, people, stay, up, all, night, cutting, their, jib, but, not, you, your, jib, is, already, cut. Either, that, or, he, wants, you, to, cut, your, jib, in, front, of, him.
Source(s): School of Jibs.


LMAO!

And here's another answer:


he can see the outline of your patch or slit. which means you should start wearing panties and your jeans are too tight.




errr...... so, yeah....

Do your googling with care and common sense boys and girls.

Updates

I really meant to blog this weekend, but I crashed after another stressful week at work, and was dealing with a migraine most of the day Saturday. Then for some unknown reason I decided to open up the mss around midnight that night. I think I only meant to look over some stuff I'd fiddled with during the week, but ended up staying up till 2:45am.

So, yeah, was dragging my butt again on Sunday. :-P

But(!!) the first part of the revisions/additions are done, now that I stopped trying to force the story in a wrong direction.

Next on the list is to go through the mss with the aim to either layer in stuff or tweak/cut what's there so it fits with the new scenes. Currently, there's a section in the story that's referenced as (paraphrasing): 'several tense days went by'. I'm going to flesh that out with a scene or two that will ::fingers crossed:: show more development of the romance. Lastly, the ending is going to get changed. And that will be that. Hopefully my (new) editor will like the results.

So that's the 411 on the current writing. Now if the brutal grind/pace at work would ease up.

As for past writing, my wonderful webmistress/site designer--Katrina Glover--has uploaded a couple of deleted scenes from Felicity Stripped Bare over on the bookshelf part of this site, over here.

They mostly feature Daniel's (hero) parents. I just loved the relationship between Michael and Elle. Michael came off as one of the 'bad' guys in the story, but I think all the scenes between him and Elle tempered that quite a bit and made you see things a bit more from his pov and how much he wanted sucess for his son. You also saw how he was with Elle. And since it's pretty clear she's a savvy lady, and wouldn't be with a total jackass,(lol) it made Michael an more sympathetic character.

There's actually 3 deleted scenes, but I forgot to send the last one when I sent the others, so that'll be posted later and I'll let you know.

Edited to add: all the scenes are posted now.

That's it. I'm soooo looking forward to this weekend. I. Am. Not. Bringing. Work. Home. I'm going to sleep in both days, and see that Bruce Willis movie
Surrogate on Saturday.

Yo, Dumbledore!

I got this in an email today. lol

Losing Contact

The links on my sidebar are only 1/10 (100th?) of the blogs/sites I have bookmarked. There's a handful I visit daily, some weekly, monthly or even yearly... *gulp*

I used to visit Sara Donati's blog daily, I'm not sure when, or why, those visits trailed off. But I was just over there and was initially admiring her new look, when I read this sad message:


"If you were looking for my weblog (called Storytelling), or following a link to a particular post on the weblog, you have landed here because the weblog is not available.

The economic downturn and family circumstances being what they are, I find myself in a position I knew might well come some day -- I'm going back on the job market, looking for more traditional employment. This means that I will be putting writing aside for the foreseeable future, and so I've taken down the weblog, for the time being at least.

Many of you have followed the weblog for six years, and I'd like to thank you for your continued interest and support. For newer readers, I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to get to know you better."


I hope the 'time being' is a very short




.

Interesting Buys

I need more books, like I need a hole in my head. Nevertheless, I picked up a couple on my way home today:

I'm not a big fan of love triangles, but this one involves a mystery, revenge, a plucky heroine and takes place in 1920s London, (And, oh wow, I noticed the blurb on the cover and realized that this author's previous book, The Shoe Queen, ended up as one of my favourite reads--and a keeper--of last year. How serendipitous.)

The Jewel Box



Synopsis (from Amazon/Booklist which isn’t quite what’s on the backcover, but I’ll be arsed if I can bother typing that one out. The Publishers Weekly synopsis is even more fluffy with comparisons to Sex and the City and references to pre-Manolo Blanik chick-lit. If this is anything like The Shoe Queen. The chick-lit implication is misleading.):

Grace is an iconic flapper in the Roaring Twenties, burning the candle at both ends between her job as a copywriter in a London ad agency and a newspaper columnist under the pen name Diamond Sharp.

Her frantic pace and upbeat writing keep her from thinking about the responsibilities at home, where she takes care of her mother, widowed sister, and young niece and nephew. Things become even more hectic when she spots a gorgeous American author, and taunts him in her columns until they start a fiery love affair.

Dexter is as mysterious and dramatic as the book that made him famous. In contrast
to her tempestuous relationship with Dexter, she meets her neighbor John Cramer, also an American, who writes for the New York Times.

There is bad blood between the two men, and Grace is torn between her “Devil” Dexter and his antagonist, John, who may have captured her sister’s heart. Davis presents a rip-roaring read filled with enticing characters emulating the American literati living it up overseas after the First World War.

Interestingly she have two high and two low ratings on Amazon. One of those books you either hate or love? Hopefully, I'll love it.

Eep! I just realized I already read the second book (when it first came out in hardcover). It was a pretty good read and I like the author’s voice a lot, which is why I didn't do much more than skimm the backblurb before deciding to buy Klosterman’s “new” book. Oh well.

Downtown Owl

Ain't Misbehavin

Well, they were. My characters, that is.

Now that I stopped forcing them in a direction they didn't want to go, we're all getting along swimmingly.

I know some readers and authors can't stand to hear a writer talk about their characters as if they have free-will.

"My character won't talk to me."
"My hero isn't cooperating."
"My heroine just said something surprising."

Boo-freaking-hoo. Get real! How is that possible? Characters are a figment of the author's imagination. Wholly made-up and they do what the author tells them to.

Erm... not so much.

Maybe you can 'make' the character do something, but nine times out of ten what you end up with is a contrived situation, and characters that have gone curiously flat with no chemistry.

If the writer did even a half-assed job at making those characters real or 'alive' on the page, they're going to behave like any other 'live' being by speaking or acting in unexpected/unplanned ways. And if you push to hard to have them conform to your plan, well you may very well end up with mere puppets for a scene or two or a whole book even....

In the same way some sculptors say they 'released' the form from the medium ("Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it."-Michael Angelo), or some muscians say the music/words 'came' to them, I think, to a degree, the same holds true for writer and story/character.

This has been my experience. For other writers they have no problem shaping and forming and aiming their story/characters each step of the way in the direction they want them to go.

Diffrent strokes.

The Rule of Three

I'll have a real post on the weekend, just let me recover from the crazy week at work.

In the meantime I can't resist posting this one. It's seems a bit timely at the mo'...

~*~

Keep this philosophy in mind the next time you hear, or are out to repeat a rumor.

In ancient Greece (469 - 399 BC), Socrates was widely lauded for his wisdom. One day the great philosopher came upon an acquaintance, who ran up to him excitedly and said, "Socrates, do you know what I just heard about one of your students?"


"Wait a moment," Socrates replied. "Before you tell me, I'd like you to pass a little test. It's called the Test of Three."

"Test of Three?"

"That's correct," Socrates continued. "Before you talk to me about my student let's take a moment to test what you're going to say. The firsttest is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?"

"No," the man replied, "actually I just heard about it."

"All right," said Socrates. "So you don't really know if it's true or not. Now let's try the second test, the test of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my student something good?"

"No, on the contrary..."

"So," Socrates continued, "you want to tell me something bad about him even though you're not certain it's true?"

The man shrugged, a little embarrassed.

Socrates continued, "You may still pass though because there is a third test - the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my student going to be useful to me?"

"No, not really..."

"Well," concluded Socrates, "if what you want to tell me is neither True nor Good nor even Useful, why tell it to me at all?"

The man was defeated and ashamed and said no more.

This is the reason Socrates was a great philosopher and held in such high esteem.

It also explains why Socrates never found out that Plato was banging his wife.

Joke

Not Hungry


A woman asks her husband at breakfast time, "Would you like some bacon and eggs, a slice of toast, and maybe some grapefruit juice and coffee?"

He declines. "Thanks for asking, but I'm not hungry right now. It's this Viagra," he says. "It's really taken the edge off my appetite."

At lunchtime, she asked him if he would like something. "How about a bowl of soup, homemade muffins, or a cheese sandwich?"

He declines. "The Viagra," he says, "really trashes my desire for food."

Come dinnertime, she asks if he wants anything to eat. "Would you like a juicy rib eye steak and some scrumptious apple pie? Or maybe a rotisserie chicken or tasty stir fry?"

He declines again. "No," he says, "it's got to be the Viagra. I'm still not hungry."

"Well," she says, "Would you mind letting me up? I'm starving."

A favourite from way back

Sorry for the absence, its month-end at work and crazy time for me, but here's a fun little video.

I grew up watching Happy Days, Laverne and Shirley, Sha-na-na, the Beach Blanket Bingo movies (in Saturday afternoon re-runs) and *gulp* Lawrence Welk Sunday evenings,so when I stumbled across this song while at the iTunes store I just had to get it! (I would've sworn Elvis sang it, but it's still fun to hear.)

Lisa Valdez, yet again with Patience

**edited to add--I've been getting a lot of google search hits on this post, so fyi, there is now a confirmed released date of April 6 2010 for Patience. per Lisa's newsletter and from her publisher, Berkley.

I can't say I'm waiting with bated breath for this release.

But I really enjoyed Passion and hope that whenever Patience is released I'll enjoy it just as much.

When it comes out, it comes out.






There are other books....

...to read.....

in the meantime.

When was Laura Kinsale's last release? 2006? Granted she has more of a track record behind her and there's a definite release date next year for her next release—and I'm not getting to a comparison of writing talent here—but it's been three years in between.

No one has written her off or been irked at the delay.

And how about Judith Ivory? I'd love to see another release from her. Again she's another with a track record/body of work behind her, but still... given that she does have a readership, you'd think peeps would be totally pissed out of their ever-lovin’ minds that she's disappeared.

Yet, nary a peep.

So why this reaction to Lisa Valdez when she only has the one stand-alone book behind her?

In the same way folks don't 'get' why others still anxiously waiting for Valdez's next release, I don't get what comes off almost as animosity towards Valdez (as if there's been some sort of personal betrayal) because of the four year delay in her next release.

Sure we seem to keep getting a new release date every few months, and I gather some feel like they're being jerked around. But really, just move on. When it shows up on the shelves, buy it. Or don’t. There's lot of incredible books being released. If she ever gets another book out, deal with it then. Or don't.

I kinda feel she can't win with this one. Either expectations will be too high and peeps will be disappointed, or folks will be reading with an almost resentful 'This had better be worth the wait!' mindset while contrarily expecting it to be no good.

It's almost too bad Lisa started with a (connected) series. This is one situation where a new pen name might be to her advantage. It’s also too bad that she wasn’t able to ride the wave popularity of that first book while it was at it's peak. As long as the subsequent books were comparable in quality, she would have been a major name in erotic historical romance. Only time will tell now what she’ll accomplish writing wise.


While the following link Did Not inspire my blog post (that was another convo somewhere else), it seems to be one of the most recent conversations out there on Lisa's delays. I was googling a cover image when I came across it: The Mysterious Lisa Valdez and having Patience (Great post title, btw)

Perception

I was watching American Swingers¹ recently.

It’s about the founder and founding of that seminal (*g*) swingers club Plato's Retreat.

In today's world, it boggles the mind that a sex club could be so prominently in the public eye, with the founder interviewed on numerous daytime TV shows and the club written up in newspaper/magazine articles.

One thing that struck me as I watched the movie/documentary was the variety of people who were interviewed for the feature. There were several older couples that not in a million years would you have looked at them and thought they had been (were still?) in the swinging lifestyle. They were your typical grandma/grandpa spend winters in Florida types.

What do swingers look like anyway, right? [/ignorance]

Not proud to admit that if I passed a few of them on the street, I’d be arrogant enough to think I could tell them a thing or two about smexxxing—and by general standards I'm about a daring as vanilla chocolate-chip or pralines n creme. [/TMI] Yet, those peeps probably curl my hair into a ‘fro if they shared even 1/10th of their sexual experiences from back in the day.

I tend to roll my eyes a bit at ménage-a-vingt-cinq erotic-romance stories. Even for fiction it feels like stretching (heh) things a bit too much to swallow. (heehee).

But judging by some of the original film footage clips from inside the club (the mattress room—aka crabs incubator, the Jacuzzi—aka bacterial stew, the community pool—aka human bodily fluid depository) ménage to the power of X was all of a night for these folks.

There was also an all you-can-eat (hur-hur) free buffet on the premises. Uh. Yeah. Pass.

After the club got shut down in the late eighties (a combination of trouble with the IRS and the AIDS scare) the owner of the club, “The King of Swing”—the man whose stated intent was to sleep with every woman in New York and seemed well on his way to achieving that dubious goal—ended up driving a cab.

How many of his fares looked at this older, overweight guy in the open collar shirt with hairy chest and gold chains on display (still living his glory disco daze/days) had a true inkling of his history?

Perception.

I like to check out the first page entries over on Dear Author on Saturdays. Sometimes I comment, sometimes I don’t. The latest entry really worked for me. I would’ve kept on reading, it just hooked me in that way.

A number of commenters pointed out issues with changes in the tense and some dialect/location/regional stuff. The mistakes re setting I never would’ve caught. But I had to go back and re-read the entry to catch the tense shifts. They bypassed me the first time around because I got caught up in the story.

That’s the power of author voice.

If it really works for you, you won’t see the mistakes/issues to craft/plot/character and even if you, you don’t care. What you perceive is a great story that you want more of.

I'm going to have some interesting search terms in my page visits.↑

& This one is going out to today's weather

Cause it's TOO DAMN HOT!!!!

Today's Joke

We went out for Sushi today at lunch, which gave me the opportunity to tell a joke I heard on the radio this morning:



What did Sushi A say to Sushi B?



















(answer in comments)

Interesting Neil Gaiman interview re The Graveyard book

I read an excerpt of this book somewhere and meant to get it. I'll have to follow up on that intention.

Ways In Which My Life Sucks

Insomnia.




I've been exhausted all week and was really looking forward to sleeping in on the weekend. I went to bed around 11:30pm last night and woke up at 4am this morning.

WFT?

Will try to write.

Currently Playing on the IPOD

CRANKED WAY. WAAY UP because I'm totally exhausted and want to do a face plant on my desk but I want to write even more!

Kings of Leaon- Velvet Snow




I'll be playing this one next:

Interesting Read

I bought this book today, based on handselling by the bookstore manager.

So far, so good. I think it's supposed to be YA, but given the fact that it (appears to) deals with masturbation and demons, I'd put it at the older end of the Young Adult spectrum. :-P

Anywho, here's the synopsis:

Book of Stuart, Chapter 1:10

10 And, yea verily, Stuart did commit the Sin of Onan in the shower. And this was witnessed by his own brother who did cry out unto their mother. And there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth.

11 And the townspeople rose up against him and all Onaners, calling upon one another to tear the youthful sinners limb from unclean limb. And there was much pants wetting.

12 And lo, Stuart did join forces with the demon, Fon Pyre, and together they did set forth to discover the cause of the town's trouble.

13 And, hark! A pair of fallen angels would plant seeds of hatred unto the townspeople. And on the seventh day, Stuart did vow to rip the fallen angels a new one and layeth upon them an epic smacketh-down.

EVIL by Timothy Carter.

Hey Big balla

Bet you have to air those puppies out on the daily, don’tcha?

Get a cool flow happening up, around, and under those two steaming spheres of spermatozoon.

Do you shine them up nice before you leave the house?

Seems a shame to cover them don’t it?

Hence, the splay and display. I gotcha.

Here’s the thing, though. My feet are killing me and if you don’t want my aching foot up your 'entitled'ass, you’ll close those legs so that you aren’t taking up more than the single subway seat you paid for and not a seat and a half.


Thank you.

Poking my head up out of the deep well of despair. aka Revision Hell

Okay, so I've been poking my head up all over the place on Twitter and Facebook, but let's not split hairs, mmm'kay?

I soooo want to see the back end of this freakin story and since I'm running out of ways to procrastinate, amuse myself, keep myself motivated! (yeah, that's it!) Here's an unedited excerpt:

~*~

“The creature. It was straight out of a Cronenberg movie. Straight up Dr. Monreau shit. Like a rabid orangutan crossed with a mangy bear, crossed with… with f**king ugly.

"And,” he swallowed, staring at his clenched fists, “Evil. It was pure evil.”

Alejandro slid a slim cigarillo from his shirt pocket as Nate spoke, now he took his own sweet time lighting it up.

“So, you are saying this thing was a monster.” He blew a thin stream of smoke out of the side of his mouth. “You know, the same could be said of us.”

“Except we don’t feed on each other.”

“No.”

Silence fell, so complete Nate strained to hear the whisper of the curling plumes of smoke as they rose to the ceiling.

“Not usually.” It was said so quietly, he doubted his hearing.

Nate studied Alejandro’s impassive expression and his stomach knotted. He removed the cocoa leaves from his mouth, dropping them in the bedside wastebasket.

“That thing is one of us, isn’t it? I mean, one of you,” he stressed.

continue after the break...



He should have seen it before. Given the secretive nature of the Elders and their rumored powers, it made sense Beth’s killer would be one of them.

“And you know who he is.”

Energy surged through Nate for the first time in eight months. That other formless thing he’d sensed inside himself since the attack took shape—a burning hatred that grew claws and teeth and grew in strength. Enough strength that he ignored the surge of nausea in his gut and his suddenly blurred vision, and swung his legs off the bed.

“Do not get up.” The soft command made Nate pause, but he was primed now, coiled for action.

“Actually, we don’t know his identity.” Alejandro leaned forward. “Whoever he is, he’s been one of the most reclusive members of our kind before this recent killing spree.”

A phantom fist knuckled hard against Nate’s chest. “There’ve been more victims.”

“Yes,” came out as a hiss, the only betrayal of emotion the other shifter revealed. Alejandro’s face became a tight mask behind which something dangerous glittered.

“But you know him, Nathan. You know his scent. So I ask again, what are you doing here? What do you want?”

Anger washed him with prickly heat. The Elder was mocking him. What he wanted he’d never have. Not now; they both knew it. His sudden spate of energy flushed away as he endured Alejandro’s scrutiny, knew what the other man saw—the dark circles under his eyes, the sallow complexion and gaunt face, his lank hair, and emancipated body.

“Of course you know you’re dying.”

Nate’s bark of laughter turned into a coughing fit. “Your bedside manner sucks t’aint hairs, dude.”

“I do not know these hairs you speak of, but I do not suck them. I suck p*$$y, my friend, and I like it shaved clean.” Alejandro flashed a brief lascivious smile. “But this is off topic, yes?

“We are not doctors here. Yet the fact remains you have been infected by this Pithcus. Even for a shifter, with your superior physiology, the survival rate is not good.” He shrugged. “I have told you nothing you haven’t suspected yourself.”

Nate swallowed. It was true.

“You came here to die.”

Weekend Long Blackout

It's a long weekend here in Canada. I've got housework, yard work, laundry, groceries to do. Also plan to hit the gym, but most of all I plan to write. The kid is up at the cottage, so there'll be no interruptions!

But lack of interruptions is only part of the story. I'm weak. If I work on the laptop I'll keep checking email, Twitter, blogs, etc., so I'll be working on the Aspire netbook. I've trained myself from day 1never to connect the wifi on the thing, unless prompted for virus protection updates, so I just make good progress.

It's 11:30 am now. I'll work until 3pm then go to the gym and run errands then do some clean up around here and *maybe* get a few more hours in on the writing. Will check in later (in comments).

How boring was that post? Should I add that I've had my nose buried in Susanna Kearsley's The Winter Sea all week? Really lovely read. Highly recommended. I thought at one point she was going to break my heart, but she didn't. I think I like this one almost as much as Marianna.

One for the Scrapbook

Under the subtitle 'Firsts':

I took a few pics of the book in the store.

On the What's New and Hot table near the front of the store.....






WoOt!
The day before I was stacked right beside La Nora (blue books in the lower left corner.) but the placement in this pic ain't too shabby. Between Lee Childs, Clive Cussler and James Lee Burke is the closest Felicity is ever going to get to being in an m/f/m/m. heh.

And here it is on the on the bottom shelf--I didn't turn them face out, the store did!




Thanks to Lori, store manager at Indigo Spirit in the Royal Bank Plaza, for the fantastic placement. (Much appreciated, especially as I was too big of a chicken to sit at a table and do a signing. :-P )

Playing On the iPod

Tell It Like It Is ~ Aaron Neville.



I want to crack up every time the camera pans to Greg Allman, he looks totally stoned out of his mind. ha! (It was nice to see Bonnie Riatts, haven't heard from her in awhile.)

This version of the song is a tad too slow for me though. I thought Linda Ronstadt sang a version of this too, but I can't find it on Youtube. I was going to post her version of The First Cut Is The Deepest, but it's too fast, so I'm posting Mr. Rod 'Dooyah think I'm sexy? (no)' Stewart singing it.

The Maid

The maid asked for a pay increase.

The wife was very upset about this and decided to talk to her about it.

She asked: 'Now Marie, why do you want a pay increase?'

Marie: 'Well, there are three reasons why I want an increase.

The first is that I iron better than you.'

Wife: 'Who said you iron better than me?'

Marie: 'Your husband said so. The second reason is that I am a better cook than you.'

Wife: 'Nonsense, who said you were a better cook than me?'

Marie: 'Your husband did. My third reason is that I am a better lover than you.'

Wife: (really furious now): 'Did my husband say that as well?'

Marie: 'No...the gardener did.'

Wife: 'So how much do you want?'

MERMAID OR A WHALE?

Recently, in large French city, a poster featuring a young, thin and tan
woman appeared in the window of a gym. It said:

¨THIS SUMMER DO YOU WANT TO BE A MERMAID OR A WHALE?¨

A middle aged woman, whose physical characteristics did not
match those of the woman on the poster, responded publicly to the question
posed by the gym.

To Whom It May Concern:

Whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, sea lions, curious humans).

They have an active sex life, they get pregnant and have adorable baby whales.

They have a wonderful time with dolphins stuffing themselves with shrimp.

They play and swim in the seas, seeing wonderful places like Patagonia, the Barren Sea and the coral reefs of Polynesia.

Whales are wonderful singers and have even recorded CDs. They are incredible creatures and virtually have no predators other than humans.

They are loved, protected and admired by almost everyone in the world.

Mermaids don't exist. If they did exist, they would be lining up outside the offices of Argentinean psychoanalysts due to identity crisis. Fish or human? They don't have a sex life because they kill men who get close to them not to mention how could they have sex? Therefore they don't have kids either. Not to mention who wants to get close to a girl who smells like a fish store?

The choice is perfectly clear to me; I want to be a whale.

P.S. We are in an age when media puts into our heads the idea that only skinny people are beautiful, but I prefer to enjoy an ice cream with my kids, a good dinner with a man who makes me shiver and a piece of chocolate with my friends.

With time we gain weight because we accumulate so much information and wisdom in our heads that when there is no more room it distributes out to the rest of our bodies. So we aren't heavy, we are enormously cultured, educated and happy. Beginning today, when I look at my butt in the mirror I will think, ¨Good gosh, look how smart I am...¨

edited to add: based on the above, from now on when I look at my ass in the mirror I'll think: Gee you're a freakin ginormous genius!


*

Looking a Gift Horse in the Mouth

About a month ago I girded my loins and approached a few book-store managers about stocking my book. I asked at two stores, and even though the face-to-face response was very positive (they asked if I wanted to do a signing--uh, no!! I know some authors dream of their first book signing, but I'm more of the hermit-in-a-cave type writer). Thing is, my nerves just weren't up to asking at other stores.

Fast forward to last night.

Authors are known to do stuff like auto-Google ourselves, check our Amazon rankings, etc. So last night I indulge in this peculiar authorial madness by searching for Felicity Stripped Bare through the Chapters.Indigo inventory Store Lookup; not really expecting to see anything. Figured the bookstore managers I'd spoken to were just being polite.

But one store (Indigo Spirit in the Royal Bank Plaza) ordered in 20 copies!!! Twenty! Do I have visions of 20 peeps making a mad dash to grab my book off the shelf? No. No I do not. I'm imagining 19 returns and a change of pen name for the next book.

Insanity. It's not required in an author, but it sure does help.

Ise the girl that posts the song

Yesterday at work we were discussing provinces/territories we have the Power of Attorney to do certain business in.

When it came to Newfoundland one coworker mentioned how her mother-in-law was from Newfoundland and used to hate Newfie jokes, now she tells the best of them.

I pointed out that Newfie jokes were a Canadian rite of passage at one point, just like *that* song, which I started to sing. A couple of people joined in, and a few more coworkers came from their desks into the office with big smiles on their faces because the song brought back memories and/or they had Newfie ties.

Think I either learnt the song in school or at camp. Don't think they teach it anymore. Too bad. It's a fun jig and a piece of Canadiana.

It's shaping up to be one of those days....

I got up a bit early this morning, thinking I could put some extra time in on the manuscript.

Arrrgggh!!

All was well--showered, dressed, make-up, hair, etc--until I got downstairs. We have a garbage strike going on here in Toronto (week 4 and counting); I was throwing out the empty milk carton when I noticed some stupid animal had made a freaking mess in the driveway by going through the garbage. What pisses me off is there was nothing worth eating in the garbage!! Living chest-to-back to a ravine as we do, I've been very scrupulous about that. I think the raccoons? Skunks? Feral cats? Groundhogs? Stray dogs? Rabid rabbits? Chupacabra? Geese? only found a couple of stale pieces of bagels.

Never the less, had to spend time cleaning up, plus I must have brekkie before I leave or I'm absolutely ravenous by the time I get to work (& I hate wasting time/money buying breakfast.) But we're out of yogurt, so had to make an egg (more time used up).

Also I thought my son had emptied the dishwasher last night. He didn't. It was one of those times when almost every piece of cutlery and dishware was in there, & even though I could've picked out only what I needed for breakfast, I'm anal enough to unload the whole dang thing.

By then, it wasn't worth opening the document and working on the wip, so I skimmed through Twitterdeck for a couple of minutes, and then came here to rant. :-P

At least I can write on the train. I hope....

Upcoming movies

One of the trailers they showed before The Half-Blood Prince was for Sherlock Holmes. Now this movie was already on my rader and I knew I was going to see it, but now I can't wait!!

As a Rule

Sometimes I see someone qoute a 'rule of thumb' and I wonder: Whose rule and whose thumb?

I don't know where that thumb as been. Why would I heed it?

For all I know that thumb could belong to a complete degenerate given to late-night trolling in seedy parts of town for loose women and cheap booze or, say (just a wild and crazy thought here) it could belong to some stick-up-the ass blowhard pendantic.

Rules of thumb in writing are almost always presented in such a way as to make me want to punt them halfway across the room.

**edit to add:

Now that I don't feel so ranty.... I think when some folks say 'rule of thumb' when giving writing advice they really they mean 'generally speaking' 'try this'. Then they compound the problem by using RoT with some variation of an absolute--ie: As a rule of thumb the hero and heroine should meet by page 5. As opposed to: Generally speaking you should have your hero and heroine meet as soon as possible.

Time for an update?

So what's new and exciting (snort) in my life? Not much.

My Quickpad died on me. This is the second one that's done that within a short timeframe. They never seem to make it to the 2 year mark with me. It's particularly irritating because this usually happens when I have fresh stuff to download. Not when the Quickpad has been gathering dust on my bedroom floor for weeks. So that's it for me and Quickpads for the foreseeable future. I'm back to the pen and paper routine.

And if you were reading between the lines, you'll ken that I had to recreate in longhand the scenes I'd already written on the Quickpad. That was one of the sucky parts of my week.

The good part is.... I going to see the new Harry Potter movie today! I haven't read any of the books but I own all the DVDs. This is the first time I'll shell out bucks to see a HP movie in the theatres, though, so really looking forward to it! [/geek]

Book buy by larcenous intent

I popped into the bookstore on my coffee break one day this week and was making a bee-line for the romance section when the title of a book, on the new releases table near the front of the store, caught my eye. My first thought was, ‘What a cool title. I’m going to steal it.’

The title!! Not the book!!

And before anyone raises the hue & cry of plagiarism, the title is: Best Served Cold.

See? Nothing particularly unique; it just struck me the right way. In fact, later on I remembered I had that title down as a possible for a revenge-themed story with a chef hero. So it wasn’t as much intent to steal as it was being reminded…

Anyequivocating, while the cover art wasn’t shaking me up none, I decided to check out the synopsis/blurb:



Springtime in Styria. And that means war. There have been nineteen years of blood.

The ruthless Grand Duke Orso is locked in a vicious struggle with the squabbling League of Eight, and between them they have bled the land white. While armies march, heads roll and cities burn, behind the scenes bankers, priests and older, darker powers play a deadly game to choose who will be king.

War may be hell but for Monza Murcatto, the Snake of Talins, the most feared and famous mercenary in Duke Orso's employ, it's a damn good way of making money too. Her victories have made her popular - a shade too popular for her employer's taste. Betrayed, thrown down a mountain and left for dead, Murcatto's reward is a broken body and a burning hunger for vengeance.

Whatever the cost, seven men must die. Her allies include Styria's least reliable drunkard, Styria's most treacherous poisoner, a mass-murderer obsessed with numbers and a Northman who just wants to do the right thing. Her enemies number the better half of the nation.

And that's all before the most dangerous man in the world is dispatched to hunt her down and finish the job Duke Orso started...

Springtime in Styria. And that means revenge.


I’m definitely not on the kick-ass heroine bandwagon (for a multitude of reasons, primarily due to the fact that 99% of KA heroines I’ve encountered in Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romances are written like a gold-plated eff’em and leave’em beyoitchs with a huge chip on their shoulder).

But this is a chick I can get behind.

Someone on Amazon described this book as Tarrantino or Guy Ritchie's version of a fatansy story. Since I love me some Tarrantino/Ritchie, sounds like I made a good pick. but the opening scene was the clincher:

The sunrise was the colour of bad blood. It leaked out of the east and stained the dark sky red, marked the scraps of cloud with stolen gold. Underneath it the road twisted up the mountainside towards the fortress of Fontezarmo—a cluster of sharp towers, ash-black against the wounded heavens. The sunrise was red, black and gold.

The colors of their profession.

“You look especially beautiful this morning, Monza.’

She sighed, as if that was an accident. As if she hadn’t spent an hour preening herself before the mirro. ‘Facts are facts. Stating them isn’t a gift. You only prove you’re not blind.’ She yawned, stretched in her saddle, made him wait a moment longer. ‘But I’ll hear more.’

He noisily cleared his throat and held up one hand, and bad actor preparing for his grand speech. ‘Your hair is like to…. A veil of shimmering sable!’

“You pompous cock. What was it yesterday? A curtain of midnight. I liked that better, it had some poetry to it. Bad poetry, but still.’

‘Shit.’ He squinted up at the clouds. ‘Your eyes, then, gleam like piercing sapphires, beyond price!’

“I’ve got stones in my face, now?’

...
"I'm waiting," he said.

"For what?"

"My share of the compliments, of course."

"If your head swells any further it'll f*cking burst." She switched her silken cuffs up. "And I don't want your brains on my new shirt."

"Stabbed!" Benna clutched one hand to his chest. "Right here! Is this how you repay my years of devotion, you heartless bitch?"

"How dare you presume to be devoted to me, peasant? You're like a tick devoted to a tiger!"

"Tiger? Hah! When they compare you to an animal they usually pick a snake."

"Better than a maggot."

"Whore."

"Coward."

"Murderer."

She could hardly deny that one. Silence settled on them again.
...
Benna's horse drew gradually up beside hers, and ever so gently he mumured, "You look especially beautiful this morning Monza."

That brought a smile to the corner of her mouth. The corner her couldn't see. "Well. Facts are facts."

~*~*~

I trimmed a bit of setting description here and there for this post, but how could I resist that dialogue? .

The Trouble with Grandma

Click onto picture for larager readable image.

Online Writing Contests

There are two kick-ass writers contests going on right now.


First off: Romance Junkies is holding their annual contest right now. They've changed it up a bit this year, the entries are first voted on in the RJ readers loop, then the top entries will be posted on the RJ site to be voted on by the general public. I think this change was implemented to discourage cheating and ballot-box stuffing. *sigh* We'll how well this works out.

For more info go here at the Romance Junkies blog and check it out. Top prize is a Netbook and winner is decided by TOR editor Heather Osborn. What are you waiting for? Go enter already!!


As for the second contest, I got the heads up on this one from Raine.

Jason Evan's Clarity of the Night is holding its annual contest. This year it's The Truth In Wine Short Story Contest. Check it out. I have in the past and there were always some amazing prose stylist entered (including the loverly Ms. Raine Weaver)

**edited to clean up the wtf grammar.

Win a print book of Felicity Stripped Bare - Contest Results

Finally picked the winners for the contest below using Random.org.

Drumroll please....




#4- Muffin Puffin
#54- Ashely A/ EdgesAngel123


I also did a contest on the SamhaineCafe loop where I posted this short excerpt, then asked: What did Daniel think of Felicity's showerhead choices?

The winner of that contest is:

Amy Smith

Who emailed me directly with the answer: "Borrring."

Congratulations ladies! Once I get your snail mail deets, I should have the books--along with one of the three pretty etched metal bookmarks below--in the mail to you some time this week.



& thanks to everyone for participating and saving me from the walk of shame. ;P

Felicity Stripped Bare

It's out in print today!

Feels a little anticlimatic considering the ebook has been out for a year. All the same, it was very cool holding the author copy print book in my hot little hands.

So... if you were interested in Felicity & Daniel's story, but ebooks weren't your thing, now's your chance to get the book.

[/promo at which I suck]

Blurb:

High-school drop-out Felicity Cameron is newly single (by choice), with a new job, a new home, and she’s just signed up with a tutor because of her dyslexia.

So what if her hew job is at a strip club? No one has to know. And who cares if her new flat is in a ramshackle house? The rent’s cheap. The important thing is: Felicity is finally getting her life back on track.

Until the house is sold and her new landlord nearly causes her plans to derail. The man is yummy chocolate-coated on the outside. Chewy moron center.

Torn between fulfilling his father’s dynastic visions at the family law firm and pursuing his own dreams as a custom home builder, Daniel Mackenzie isn’t looking for more complications in his life. But complications are what he gets when his latest property purchase, slated for a flip, comes with one constantly complaining tenant.

It's a shame they got off on the wrong foot, though, considering said tenant was quite a looker. Too bad all you could look at were her tonsils ‘cause her mouth was always flapping.

As they try to get past that little ol’ eviction thing… Felicity strives to keep all her secrets from him, while Daniel does everything he can to pull her into his life and into his arms.

But she seems determined to hold something back. And he’s afraid it’s her heart.

~*~*~


Excerpts can be found here and here.

Some of the places you'll find it for sale:

Samhain
Amazon
Chapters.Indigo
Barnes & Nobel

The Contest Is Now Closed. Thank you and good luck!

**Edited to add: I would do a contest, but the last contest I held for a ebook copy was a complete wash (only one entry after posting about it on the writer's news sections at AAR, RT an Romance Divas!! ::cringe::) Anywho, if peeps are interested in a chance to win a copy, either leave a message in the comments or drop me a line at vanessajaye @ hotmail .com and I'll pick a name. Contest closes Friday 12 midnight. I'll post a winner on Saturday (if there are any takers).

What's the secret to writing short?

Yes. I'm whining.

About the werewolf novella.

I've been poking around in it the last few hours. Just got to the point where the hero sees the heroine for the first time (in this new version). As it stands I've got 4 new scenes totally 4,145 words. Not bad. The next few scenes will (hopefully) flesh out their romance more. I all ready had a scene that fleshed out the background of the world building more, but there'll probably more bits and pieces I'll be able to tuck in here and there.

The thing I'm whiny about is, other folks seem to do the world-building/relationship just fine in a short word count. Sure you might want a few things explained/fleshed out more, but for the most part you're good.

This damn novella was already clocking in at 42K (plus the extra 4K so far in new scenes). I wonder if I'm going all the new writing is going to hit the mark, or if I'll end up with 60K and still fall short.

*pouting, scowling, bitching*

Ol Skool

This came up on the ipod yesterday while I was at the gym. When this song came out it was one of my absolute favourites and if I wasn't already on the dance floor this would definitly get my booty shakin. (This Youtube version doesn't have base, but that's probably my crappylicious laptop speakers).

Today's To-do

Going to hit the gym in a bit (first time in months....) Then I'll bichok and do some serious writing today.

That damn werewolf paranormal is still tugging at my sense of guilt. I really want to finish those revisions and resubmit, but everytime I touch it, it's like banging my head against a brickwall. It's so hard to flesh out character in a fairly tightly paced plot-driven short-story. I know it can be done, but it's sooo frustrating. Normally I do character-driven stories and the plot derives from that. I find it much easier to flesh out plot once the characters are established, rather than vice-versa.

In other news... I've been playing around with some characters in my head for a new contemporary story. Think I'll take the Quickpad to the gym with me and work on the new story during the commute. Then work on the novella when I get home later.

On the reading front, I blew through Julia Quinn's latest What Happens In London. It was a frothy farcical story with likable characters. I love that it felt like a ROMANCE--not in a melodramtic way, just that you felt the two leads truly liked and loved each other in the end. There was an element of that big 'swept away' feeling to their romance, even while retaining that down to earth recognition of each other's foibles and their own. There was only one 'warm' lovescene in the last quarter of the story, but I didn't mind that because I was lovin' the H/h's interactions/banter. Nice read, but in the end the overall feeling I was left with was it was a little too light; I enjoyed it very much (finished the darn thing in a day), but it won't be a keeper because I don't see myself re-reading it.


Happy July 4th to my American friends!!

**edited for (some) typos.

Where’s My Defibrillator?

I opened up the latest issue of Esquire magazine, and low and behold what do my eyeballs smack up against on page 2 and 3?

(click on pic for larger view)

Land’s sake, have mercy! Folks have to warn a body such a sight is in the offing.

Also, the least they could have done was have the decency to supply a scratch n sniff strip…. for the cologne. That's what they're selling, right?

Damn, his tuck-game is tight.

**edited to add: More after the cut...



You know what else strikes me the longer I study this picture?

::releases inner Georgia O'Keeffe::




(no, sadly, you can't take me anywhere)

80's Romance Heroes

I was poking around Jezebel and came across this series of post for The Worst 80s Romance Heroes:

Contestant #1 - Jay Courtland, from Rules of the Game.

Contestant #2 - Dr. Ray Culver, from Stormy Springtime.

Contestant #3 - Owen Tudor, from The Road To Forever.

And to think I use to inhale these books back in the day!! No way would I read a book with these asshats now, (unless it was to indulge in that omg-I-can't-believe-he-just-said/did-that!! guilty-pleasure trainwreck experience).

Here's a fun test to take over on Racy Romance Reviews: Do you Really heart Harleqin Presents?

And here's a discussion thread over on AAR on the worst romance novel heroes. Of course that Clay from Whitney, My Love made the list.

Happy Canada Day!

It's an absolutely gorgeous day out. Enjoy!!

I'm over at Southern Fried Chicas today, figuratively, but quite literally I'll be chilling on my deck.

Holy Crap! Is it true?

Just got home from the supermarket. Put food on the table, flopped on the couch and turned on the tv and HLN/CNN is reporting that Michael Jackson is dead!!

ETA; Looks like its true. I'm deeply saddened. Regardless of the issues that plagued his life in the last years, he's a musical legend.

Dinner conversation at the Jaye household

So Day and I were talking music and somehow DMX's name comes up. I start giggling and ask da boy if he remembers this DMX crackhead quote (bolding mine):

"Yo, no matter how much vacation I'm on - we been to St Thomas, Bahamas, all the little islands - I don't wear no flip-flops. I'm never that comfortable, ever, not even in my house."

Day starts laughing too, then says: "Hey I don't like flip-flops either. I gotta be ready to run."




insert Mom Side-eye-->


"Run?"

"Yeah. Like if Godzilla shows up."

Today's Joke

A woman was at her hairdresser's getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband.. She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded:

"Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty. You're crazy to go toRome. So, how are you getting there?"

"We're taking Continental," was the reply. "We got a great rate!"

"Continental?" exclaimed the hairdresser, "That's a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they're always late. So, where are you staying in Rome?"

"We'll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome's Tiber River called Teste."

"Don't go any further. I know that place. Everybody thinks it's gonna be something special and exclusive, but it's really a dump."

"We're going to go to see the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope."

"That's rich," laughed the hairdresser. You and a million other people trying to see him. He'll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it."

A month later, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome.

"It was wonderful," explained the woman, "not only were we on time in one of Continental's brand new planes, but it was as overbooked, and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot.

And the hotel was great! They'd just finished a $5 million remodeling job, and now it's a jewel, the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner's suite at no extra charge!"

"Well," muttered the hairdresser, "that's all well and good, but I know you didn't get to see the Pope."

"Actually, we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican , a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors, and if I'd be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me.

Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me."

"Oh, really! What'd he say?"

He said: "Who fucked up your hair?"

Stories from Childhood

There are the obvious ones of course, Cinderella, Jack and the Beanstalk, Curious George, Clifford the Big Red Dog, Madeline, Cat in the Hat.

But there are others that stick with you for one reason or the other. Maybe you really identified with that little boy or girl; they were having the adventures you always dreamed of, lived the house/castle you would have like to live in. Had a big red dog. :-D

Sometimes it was a simple matter of the artwork.

Such is the reason for one particular story that has stuck in my mind. I couldn't even remember the whole story. And for the longest while I thought it was Little Red Riding Hood because it was about a little girl and a wolf. But really what stuck in my mind about this story, or I should say *that* book, was the artwork that showed the little girl in a field of flowers.

In The Gunnywolf (or Gunniwolf) the little girl disobeys her parents' order to not go out in the forest. She's not a naughty girl, you see, but the temptation of all the pretty flowers were too much to resist:

The little girl promised that she would never go into the forest. “I won’t go! I won’t go!” As soon as her mother had gone, the little girl decided to pick flowers to decorate the house. The first flowers were yellow flowers that grew right beside the fence around the year and the garden. But, as she picked the yellow flowers, she saw some pretty blue flowers blooming right at the edge of the forest, and she forgot about her promise.


While she picked the blue flowers, she saw some beautiful white flowers. They would look so lovely in a vase with the yellow and blue flowers. She could surprise her mother with them when she came home. The little girl just had to pick some of them too."

No, not naughty in the least! Good intentions and all that. ;)

If you're wondering why the reminiscence, it's because every time I take a certain way home and/or to work through the nearby ravine, this sight always strikes me as what the little girl saw. (exactly what the book’s artwork meant to conveyed):




Don't think I blame her a minute for being enticed down that path deep into the woods. (My crappy camera didn't quite capture how magical those blue and white wild flowers look alongside the trail. You can see a close up of the flowers in the bottom right hand corner.)

Unfortunately I couldn't find examples of the artwork from that book online, but while googling I came across an interesting article on the story on the Clayton County Library Blog if you'd like to read more on it.

Never underestimate the power of the story. You never outgrow its magic. Are there stories from your childhood that stick with you, not just because of the story itself but because of a certain image?

I give up, let’s do it again

I’ve been on a quasi break from writing due to crazy hours I was putting in on a project for my daytime job. I say quasi because I was still struggling with the revisions on the werewolf novella (I think I’m up to my 6th try on second new scene I had planned to write).

Recently I commented over on Southern Fried Chicas, that I was going to put the revisions aside for now. I was just tired of hitting my head against the wall trying to achieve something that would address my editor’s concerns while at the same time not feeling like filler to me or requiring a complete rewrite.

The funny thing is, the minute I posted that statement for all to see, I wanted to take it back. I wasn’t truly finished with trying to work out a solution. I just needed to think on it some more. In the mean time I also came up with an interesting paranormal western romance that requires a bit of research. I was going to forge ahead with that while still mulling over the werewolf problem, but that werewolf novella is like cavity I can’t stop probing.

I think (once again) I have a solution, I’ve been thinking about it for a couple of days now from different angles. Going to start working on the new ideas in a minute.

Another writing problem I’ve been dealing with is this blog. I’ve been meaning to wean myself off online for awhile now. The situation at work kinda forced the issue, but I’ve found that now that things have (temporarily) calmed down at work, I’m not all that hepped up to jump back into the fray. Just today, for instance, I spent 3 hours in garden. And later tonight I’ll be baking some spelt ‘n oatmeal muffins to take to work in the mornings for breakfast. I’m reading more, watching TV/movies more, and having more conversations with friends/family. Even hit the AGO a couple of weeks ago and plan visit several other museums around town. Plus, I still have to make it back to the gym on a regular basis, and of course I will be writing (or trying to).

And all that means being online less.

Fine with me.

Except…

I do enjoy my blog and as an epublished author I need to keep a visible online presence. While I using the joke posts as a crutch lately, I would really like to blog with more substance.

So that’s what I’m going to do. Once a week I’ll post something thoughtful (on writing, or what I’m reading, stuff happening in real life, etc). I’ll probably still post the jokes, etc. but the blog—-and the few peeps who drop by, or have me on their reader—-deserve to be treated better.

ps: I’ll let you know how try #7 on scene two works out.

**edited to add links

THE YEAR 1909

From an email recently recieved (sorry, can't think of a thing to blog about):

The year is 1909.
One hundred years ago.
What a difference a century makes!
Here are some statistics for the Year 1909 :

************ ********* ********* ******

The average life expectancy was 47 years.

Only 14 percent of the homes had a bathtub.

Only 8 percent of the homes had a telephone.

There were only 8,000 cars and only 144 miles of paved roads.


The maximum speed limit in most cities was 10 mph.

The tallest structure in the world was the Eiffel Tower

The average wage in 1909 was 22 cents per hour.

The average worker made between $200 and $400 per year.

A competent accountant could expect to earn $2000 per year, a dentist $2,500 per year, a veterinarian between $1,500 and $4,000 per year, and a mechanical engineer about $5,000 per year.

More than 95 percent of all births took place at home.

Ninety percent of all doctors had no college education. Instead, they attended so-called medical schools, many of which were condemned in the press and government as 'substandard'.

Sugar cost four cents a pound.
Eggs were fourteen cents a dozen.
Coffee was fifteen cents a pound.

Most women only washed their hair once a month, and used Borax or egg yolks for shampoo.

Canada passed a law that prohibited poor people from entering into their country for any reason.

Five leading causes of death were:

1. Pneumonia and influenza
2. Tuberculosis
3. Diarrhea
4. Heart disease
5. Stroke

The American flag had 45 stars.

The population of Las Vegas, Nevada, was only 30.

Crossword puzzles, canned beer, and ice tea hadn't been invented yet.

There was no Mother's Day or Father's Day.

Two out of every 10 adults couldn't read or write.

Only 6 percent of all Americans had graduated from high school.

Marijuana, heroin, and morphine were all available over the counter at the local corner drugstores. Back then pharmacists said, 'Heroin clears the complexion, gives buoyancy to the mind,regulates the stomach and bowels, and is, in fact, a perfect guardian of health.'

Eighteen percent of households had at least 1 full-time servant or domestic help.

There were about 230 reported murders in the ENTIRE U.S.A.

Try to imagine what it may be like in another 100 years...

DRM Sucks!

Sure I've read the blog posts, but now I truly get it!

Since Calibre can't/will not convert a recent purchase from eharl so I can read it on my Sony, I will not be be buying any more HQN ebooks.

Because you know what? I just want to download and read my purchases on the reading device of my choice. Period. I don't want to jump through hoops and go around googling crap to figure out how to load DRM ebooks onto my Sony. (Which I haven't figured out yet,btw. And I don't feel up to emailing folks who I know could help me out. Why the eff do have I to go to those lengths to read something I legally purchased?)

If I walked into a bookstore or a library I'd just be able to pick a book off the shelf and read it wherever and however I chose to.

And that's another thing. I actually prefer reading paper anyways, so way to *not* win me over.