Must. Get. Ball.

So, I spent two weeks putting together a very specific Query for an agent. Lots of formatting and fine-tuning. I definitely owe my editor a nice dinner. Finally, I had everything together and e-mailed it to her...only to have it bounce back...twice. No doubt because her e-mail is already overflowing with Queries. Groan. Now you see why I self-publish.

It's not that I don't believe in the traditional publishing process. It makes sense that the publishers --or someone-- sift through all the writing to make sure that only the best gets published. I've read a lot of self-published stuff in my quest to support indie writes, and there's a lot of mediocre stuff out there. Well, and a lot of garbage. But the system seems so back logged. Not that my writing is genius or anything, and maybe it isn't worthy of a publisher’s notice...but how can I get a publisher's notice if I can't even get it into someone's in-box? It's like I need an agent to get me to an agent. Thank God for self-publishing. Cause sometimes, that ball is just out of reach.

Your moment of Zen

Go get it!

Holy zombie paraphenalia Batman!

It's no secret...I've been spending a lot of time recently researching zombies. It's just one of the services I provide.

So I'm searching for cute zombies...not in the Justin Beiber way, just in the not-totally-disgusting way.

And I find myself looking at this:

Which is the most astonishingly weird thing I've come across in my whole zombie experience.

Just...ew! There are no more words for that. Other than, who wants this?

Who decides about the sequel...

Ok, admittedly, this photo doesn't have the most to do with the topic of my post, but as it is epic, I don't care overmuch.

Anyway, a few weeks ago, I had a post on my Star-crossed:Secrets Facebook page from a fan. Yes, ZOMG, I have a fan. Awesome sauce. So, this fan loves the books, loves the characters (YAY!) and is dying for a third book (yay.) Hmm, yeah, there could be a third book. There are ideas floating in my head that could make it to the written page. It didn't seem like the second book (Star-crossed:Journeys) caught on that well, so I moved on to a new project. But, since my one fan wants it (I'm thinking of Mel on Flight of the Conchordes,) I could make it happen.

Herein lies the dilemma, from the way that she was talking about the characters, I can tell that she wants the love story to resolve a certain way. In my own mind, it goes differently (think Edward v Jacob.) Yeah, I am God of the Star-crossed universe, but perhaps I should satisfy my one fan. On the other hand, that is probably not as satisfying to me and doesn't make me want to write the third book as much. Not sure what to do with this.

Anyway, just happy to have a fan. Yay! Now slow down and obey the road signs...or I will destroy you!

Why, why, why?

So, my childhood friend just posted that she worked out in a gym this morning that had chandeliers. With a lead in like that, I couldn't resist the urge to whip this out-- so to speak.

Seems like this might be an appropriate chandelier to have in a gym. At least, certain kinds of gyms.

But, really, isn't this just about the ugliest thing you've ever seen? It seemed to come from a completely serious post on chandeliers. (thanks, Becky.) So...someone out there has this in their home. And probably paid a lot of money for it.

Hee, hee. People so crazy.

Just in time for Witchmas

For those of you who know me well--and, considering all the verbal brain-barfing I do on the internet, pretty much everyone does-- you know I am losing my hair. Slowly, slowly, slowly, I am degenerating until I look like this:

<--

Except minus Michelle Pfeiffer's cheekbones and strong jawline. Pretty much her whole package. So... basically just this photo of Michelle from the eyebrows up.

Nice, huh?

Oh, and I'll be wearing the dress...because I'm going to need witchy threads.

So, being a glass half-full kind of person, I am trying to figure out what to do with this particular conundrum. I am hoping that you, my friends and internet stalkers, will help me sort this out.

My hubby has already shot down the Blossom hat, which is too bad, since I already bought it. But there are other options:

I am rather fond of the turban, particularly since I am pretty sure I can just tuck my keys and phone in there and be good to go.

On the other hand, I'm not sure I can carry off the face tats.









Here's another fave: the Justin Bieber wig. I like it because it ups my "cool" factor. On the other hand, do I really want to be indistinguishable from the young men in my daughter's class?

So, give it some thought. I'll be waiting for your input. And, while you're considering it, enjoy these delightful tidbits from The Ten Strangest Justin Bieber Products Money Can Buy.

Ho, Ho...ooooh

Ok, I don't really have any profound words. It's Santa, peeing-- off your house. Where else did you think he was going to do it? Use you filthy bathroom? Pulease.

Anyway, it fits my "things that pee" theme.

Yeah, I didn't know it was my theme either. I thought it was more "Metal chickens and the things that kill them." But this week, it's about pee.