What's goin' on at RT
Monday - arrived Houston, hugs and reuniting with people. Was afraid I'd not know anyone here but Ann Wesley Hardin and Alexis Fleming, then ran into Kathryn Falk herself. Had her speak a couple of times to my Oklahoma authors back when I did programs for the groups there. She invited us to spend the night, but we had other commitments. So when she said 'how about tomorrow evening, a get together at the ranch' we gladly accepted.
* * *
Tuesday - our (Lex and I are 'our') friend and fellow Belfry critique partners started arriving. Ann then Liz Wolfe. More drinks at the bar, catching up, that sort of thing, but no actual RT programs yet. We put our promo stuff out, got the lay of the land, met others whose named we recognized but hadn't a face to go with, then...
Sometime around 5, 4 of us were whisked from hotel to Kathryn's country paradise about 30 miles outside Houston. Met Susan/Annie, a marvelous writer and delightful neuropsychologist who happens to write in a 'few' genres. *g* She was such an interesting lady. Met Cheyenne MacRae (and I probably butchered that spelling of her last name), author of the Magic series (great series if you haven't read it). Kathryn's grounds keeper/caretaker of the ranch (SOS = support our soldiers, one of Kathryn's many projects) picked us up in a Cadillac and gave us some background on the place, kept us entertained.
***
The ranch itself is gorgeous. The house is filled with antiques, photos from Kathryn's many travels, the people in her life over the years...can we all say FABIO, BARBARA CARTLAND, a variety of dignitaries. There are two saunas - the Swedish one is near the pool in the back. There are a huge variety of plants, and they've planted palm trees to go with the native plants and trees. Pets - the dogs are wonderful. One of them stayed by her side while we had a glass of wine in a covered porch. The wind in the trees was a musical, mystical experience.
***
The caretaker's name, by the way is John Patterson, and it was so nice to meet this man. He was so informative, and the work they're doing at this retreat is fantastic. Kathryn is building a place for soldiers coming home from the war to wind down, chill out, decompress, be with their families if they choose. There are even handicap ramps leading to the cabin that we visited. It's all very peaceful, spiritual, cleansing.
***
A few hours later we were treated to a BBQ dinner at Joe's in Alvin, Texas, not far from the ranch. OMG. - lol- I had the baked potato, which was loaded with everything that goes with the veggie. Plus we had ribs.
* * *
Stormy weather was headed our way, so after a couple of hours of eating and reminiscing with Lady Barrow and company, we headed for the hotel. The weather coming from south of us was so bad that the Aussie contingent of booksellers got stranded at the Austin airport, and the airport shut down! The Red Cross had to rescue them and find them lodging.
* * *
That brings us to today, and I'll try to post more later on that. There's been so much happening that I'm leaving out, but maybe that slice of life will whet your appetites for more instead of put you to sleep. Sleep? What's that? Think we went to bed at 3-something the first night, maybe 2 or 3 the second, around 1 last night, and overslept bigtime.
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so much for being mean
** I haven't gotten a written report, but I did get some nice pictures from RT.
Seriously, how can I mean to the people who made me into the special guest? Look at me, I'm Elijah the invisible dinner companion at RT. I bet Lex and Sunny are getting some odd looks about it, but they get to split my dessert.
And we have a basket together too. I haven't even seen it. If you're at RT you should try to win that baby! It's got some good goodies in it.
_________________________
**Wonder why are they hiding up in a hotel room instead of mingling with the cover models?
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Etymology of Shopping
There’s only so much that a woman can pack for a trip that lasts over a week. Pity poor Lex who had to pack for both spring in Houston and winter in Australia. When she returns home and steps off of the plane in Oz, she’s headed straight for Brisbane. The good news is that she’ll be with her daughter, Kelly. The bad news is that Lex has a dental appointment. Ditto for moi, also on May 2nd, same date as hers, only I have a pap following the dental, have to say ‘ah’ at both ends. Ugh.
What does this have to do with shopping? Absolutely nothing. I’m rambling, reminiscing about Kelly’s first trip to Wal-Mart in Atlanta during RWA 2006. As soon as she realized she was a size 4-6 instead of her usual 10-12-14, and that she could buy a complete outfit for ten to twenty bucks, the poor girl ran amok, zipping from aisle to aisle, squealing her delight. I haven’t been able to shop Wal-Mart since without thinking of Kelly.
That’s where I’m headed today with her mother. We’re picking up baskets in which to put goodies during our book signing, plus baskets for the Goody Room freebies, and we’re buying food to sustain us during the week.
Photos to follow of the shopping trip, Liz, whom we haven’t met yet, the Virgins at the party tonight, as well as shots of non-virgins.
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Lyn is a goober
She's given me permission to post in her blog
while she goes to play and I stay home, bored and frustrated by the fact that everyone else is off playing and having fun. Oh, but this will be good.
Portrait of horrified blogger after she realizes it's too late to lock those barn doors.
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Have I Mentioned…?
How much I really don’t like flying? But there is a certain commercialized charm about stopping at a Starbucks I wouldn’t ordinarily visit. Which reminds me…
My guys in DC collect the Starbucks Skyline mugs, those big 20 ounce ones that are cream-colored with blue etchings of skyline, and you can only get say the Detroit mug IN Detroit, Pittsburg IN a Pittsburg Starbucks. They asked me for one as a housewarming gift when I visit them in June.
…moments later…screw THAT! Just priced the mugs online, and the one for my area doesn’t even exist, and I’m not spending the price of a plane ticket to get one if it did.
Have I mentioned what a pain in the ass it is to be in a wheelchair in an airport? I have hydrocephalus, you see, which renders me a tad wobbly, unbalanced, and generally more dysfunctional than usual for a bit after landing.
In Denver a couple of years ago, the airport aid pushing me from one plane to the faster-than-a-speeding-bullet transit which would take me to another…well, she did not speak English and was pushing me in the wrong direction from what I could tell. When I requested she get help, she stopped another man from her country (not the USA), and the two of them got into a rather loud argument over my head in their native tongue, with me sitting below trying to bust a move and get to my friggin’ plane. Finally, I showed my arse and hollered in a LOUD voice: Does ANYBODY here speak ENGLISH? I’m missing my plane!
I’m sure that the Denver airport has a photo of me up somewhere as a cautionary device.
Anyway, if I can get them to Rae, I’ll take some photos of the various airports I’ll drift through on this trip, just for you sickos who like Starbucks or airports or something. Will send shots of the hotel and my dear friend Lex to Rae then try to send Kate photos of the bar where the RT Virgins’ party will be held.
Sunny, a virgin?
And that’s another story.
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weekend before RT convention
I have strawberries on the brain - had strawberry shortcake last night for dessert. When I get back from Houston, want to plant some of these, and I've never grown them. Any tips???
If I don't say it now, I'll forget - THANK YOU to Heather Rae Scott and to Kate Rothwell (aka Summer Devon) for keeping the blog for me while I'm at conference next week. They'll have permission to walk in, post the photos and info for me, answer questions, and generally trash the place if they like. Hopefully, Dee will keep them in line. *evil grin*
I had so much I wanted to post prior to this. Jokes from Janet, photos (I'm still practicing with this phone), tidbits. Ran out of time...okay, sometimes ran out of steam but still had the time.
The nearby Petsmart has something 'different' that I'd not seen in our Oklahoma stores. There was a 'treat bar' filled with a variety of snacks from pretzel-shaped 'sugar cookies' for dogs to little round 'sausages' to - well, you name it, it was there. Customers were offered scoops (much like the kind a kid would use to shovel sand - big, plastic).
Next to the Treat Bar was the Rawhide By the Pound bar. I know I probably looked like a tourist, but I had to get a shot of these two.
Aside from that, here's the offering to hold you until Monday, when Heather & Kate take over.From
Alexis (who most likely got this from Sue):
Subject: SURGEONS FUNERAL
One of the Counties top Cardiac Specialist died. At his funeral, his coffin was placed in front of a beautiful huge replica of a heart made out of 100 red roses.
When the pastor finished the sermon and everyone said their good-byes, the large heart opened up and the coffin rolled along inside through the heart. When the coffin had passed it closed again.
It was a truly majestic tribute to the much loved cardiologist and also a very moving moment for everyone.
Suddenly, one of the mourners burst out in a fit of laughter.
Irritated by his insensitivity, the man sitting next to him asked, "why are you laughing"?
"I was just thinking about my own funeral," The man replied. - "I'm a gynaecologist". . . . . .
from Janet:
Spelling to get into Heaven
A woman arrived at the Gates of Heaven. While she was waiting for Saint Peter to greet her, she peeked through the gates. She saw a beautiful banquet table. Sitting all around were her parents and all the other people she had loved and who had died before her. They saw her and began calling greetings to her "Hello - How are you! We've been waiting for you! Good to see you."
* * *
When Saint Peter came by, the woman said to him, "This is such a wonderful place! How do I get in?"
* * *
"You have to spell a word," Saint Peter told her.
* * *
"Which word?" the woman asked.
* * *
"Love." The woman correctly spelled "Love" and Saint Peter welcomed her into Heaven.
* * *
About a year later, Saint Peter came to the woman and asked her to watch the Gates of Heaven for him that day. While the woman was guarding the Gates of Heaven, her husband arrived.
* * *
"I'm surprised to see you," the woman said. "How have you been?"
* * *
"Oh, I've been doing pretty well since you died," her husband told her. "I married the beautiful young nurse who took care of you while you were ill. And then I won the multi-state lottery. I sold the little house you and I lived in and bought a huge mansion. And my wife and I traveled all around the world. We were on vacation in Cancun and I went water skiing today. I fell and hit my head, and here I am. What a bummer! How do I get in?"
* * *
"You have to spell a word," the woman told him.
* * *
"Which word?" her husband asked.
* * *
"Czechoslovakia."
Moral of the story:
Never make a woman angry...
There will be Hell to pay later!
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photos of a full life with dogs, Playgirl, & books
Okay, so I'm a goober when it comes to my pets. My smaller dog (Pita) likes to roll in the grass, and spring here is just gorgeous. I caught her sniffing the grass and then rolling in it and thought I'd share.
Playgirl magazine editor and I have kept in touch since the magazine featured Just Desserts in their January issue. She sent me some swag - lol. I'm having a drawing (while I'm gone next week), and the names will be chosen from the people who post to the blog while I'm away. Here's a look at the tee-shirt I'll send to the lucky winner.
I'll also give one or two away at the RT convention during the book signing.
Oh, and I'll post daily photos (sending to Heather Rae and Kate/Summer to post for me, that is) every day during the writers' conference.
PLUS...
More deliveries this morning - I received my author's copies of JUST DESSERTS and have been ooh-ing and ah-ing and fawning over them ever since. I'll be signing these plus copies of Leaving Mama (Samhain publication) at the Romantic Times convention in Houston next weekend (not this one but the following one). I feel like I imagine Pita to feel when she's rolling in clover.
I felt a good day comin' on yesterday, so daughter-in-law-2-be and I worked on her taxes and got them in the mail at the last minute then had Mexican food to celebrate - enchiladas and margaritas at the Salty Iguana.
Here's a shot of "Iggy" on the bar.
Have a great Tuesday, everybody.
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Gonzo Writing
#1 Son and I had a long discussion about
Hunter S. Thompson last night, and of course discussing Thompson means segues with pit stops on the likes of
George Wallace,
Jann Wenner, and
Johnny Depp.
I won’t delve into the hours we spent thrashing about politics and writing, but I will comment on Thompson’s death. I told Son that when writers don’t feel that they can write what they want, it’s pretty much over. I remember Wallace saying that he started out a decent politician (this is paraphrasing him), that when he realized that nobody was listening, he started saying the word nigger, and he said people started clapping and stamping their feet agreeing with him when he rode in on that card. He found religion, apologized decades later, but…at what cost.
Yeah, Thompson killed himself, but my theory is that it was because he felt he could no longer impact his readers. He said that ours was the generation that finally took more than it gave back, that we dropped the ball.
So who sold out? Wallace, who played the bigot to gain political clout, or Thompson, who killed himself rather than fight against willful ignorance?
What of each of us? Do we write what we want because it makes us happy, because we think we’re influencing others, or do we do it strictly for the money? I’ve read Danielle Steele beating her breast, proclaiming that her publisher (Avon, if I’m not mistaken, at least at the time she wrote this) refused to let her write anything else but what she wrote. She also defied anyone who claimed she wrote romance. *picture me rolling my eyes here*
I think about things like this, for some reason. People still fascinate me – I can’t recall ever being bored. There’s just too much to see, do, and think about for that. And I question my own reasons for writing what I do. I’ve asked myself if I’m some sex-starved maniac that I have to write smut for release. I’ve wondered why I write about sisters, when I have none. I’ve wondered why I’m such a sarcastic bitch, why everything’s a fucking joke, that I take few things to be sacred and make fun of the majority of subjects.
And I think back on Hunter S. Thompson, who’d said thirty years prior to his suicide that if he couldn’t feel he was free to kill himself at any given moment, he couldn’t go on. I don’t feel sorry for the bastard – I envy him in a way. The last line of his suicide note was: This won’t hurt.
That’s the way I feel about life, not death, though…I feel a Gonzo connection from a polar opposite perspective. The Auntie Mame take on life, I suppose. This won’t hurt. Living won’t hurt – writing won’t hurt – and if it does, then so friggin’ what? Beats the alternative.
I just wish there’d have been
Fear and Loathing in Guadalajara, or
The Margarita Diary, or
Fear and Loathing On the Campaign Trail ’08. I know I can't write what he did, can't thrill myself the way he could when he made me think. I'm not ready to give him up.
Buy the Ticket, Take the Ride, I guess. Or as Hunter would say,
Call on God, but row away from the rocks.
Just for the sake of personal icons, which writers made you think, or still do? My others were and always will be Sidney Sheldon, who could write in damn near any genre he wanted,
Molly Ivins (if you haven’t read
Molly Ivins Can’t Say That, Can She? – go get it – then there’s this quote that just slays me: On
Bill Clinton: "If left to my own devices, I'd spend all my time pointing out that he's weaker than bus-station chili. But the man is so constantly subjected to such hideous and unfair abuse that I wind up standing up for him on the general principle that some fairness should be applied. Besides, no one but a fool or a Republican ever took him for a liberal." [Introduction to
You Got to Dance With Them What Brung You] – that woman’s take on Bush (Shrub) and Perot were what sold me on her, though),
cartoonist
Gary Larson, cartoonist
Charles Schulz,
and my son, who has yet to submit anything for publication – but I love reading him.
Have a nice day, ya’ll. And if the Gonzo bug bites, scratch it, feed it, let it take you to a feverish pitch in your writing...at least once, so you can say ya did it.
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Announcing CRYSTAL CLEAR PERSUASION
Shrink Wrap - Crystal Clear Persuasionby Lyn CashISBN #9781419910166
* * *
Book 3 in the Shrink Wrap series.
* * *
Some weekly agendas are more taxing than others, and Shyla Stewart's just about overbooked. Her boss is forcing her to go on some woo-woo New Age retreat. She's been given a "sex stone" that seems to have a mind of its own and complete control over her libido. Her therapist just gave her a vibrator, and some wiseass cab driver with an eerie sense of intuition tells her she needs to get laid. Add one hunky, lumberjack-type stranger who seems to want Shyla as badly as she does him, and it's anybody's guess what will happen next. How much change and sex and crazy magic can an introverted workaholic take before the wild woman within her breaks free?
* * *
Read an excerpt Sexual Content: Rated E-rotic Genre : Paranormal Book Length: Novella.
ISBN #9781419910166
* * *
* * *
THIS is part of the trilogy I wrote with
Summer Devon and
Kris Starr last year - and we had a blast! The cabbie has snagged the spotlight in some of the reviews, and I'm not sure which of us came up with him, but he's a recurring character in all three books.
* * *
This book stands alone, if you haven't read the other two books, but...BUT...you'd be missing a real treat if you didn't have all 3. Summer's book is hysterically funny - she set the bar for this group with Invisible Touch. Then Kris followed with Seeing Is Believing, and of course I wrap things up with Crystal Clear Persusasion. All 3 books deal with the paranormal in some fashion. Summer's character is cursed and turns invisible when aroused; Kris's hapless heroine has a constant companion...her grandmother's ghost (and granny is ALWAYS horny and choosing men for granddaughter); and my dazzling damsel in distress is sent on a mission to find herself using a sex stone as a guide. Sex stone? A fucking rock, as she calls it, but it has magical powers of persuasion.
* * *
THANK YOU, KATE for nudging me and reminding me that I had a book out!!!!!
* * *
I am sooooooo bad about not promoting my own books. I have no idea WHY - it's not that I don't like 'em, and it's not that I don't want to sell them. I just have a difficult time putting up a promo for myself. Is anyone ELSE like this?
* * *
I'd not written a sex-in-an-airplane scene until this book. Blame it on Ann Wesley Hardin, one of my first mentors when I started writing erotic fiction. Liked it so much that I wrote another airplane sex scene in a novella that is 'out there' looking for a home.
* * *
At any rate, thank you if you've read this far, thank you KATE for kicking my arse and telling me to announce that the story is now published, and thank you Ann for corrupting me. *ggg*
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New Beginnings
Rather dumb probably, but I'm one of those people who enjoys weeds that look like flowers--you know--the kind that crop up with the first green grass of spring. The dogs like to roll in the stuff, and it always makes me smile. When I was little, I used to pick these and others for my Easter basket. Never knew why, but then I never understood the buying of frilly dreses and new white gloves and shoes for the occasion either.
I've been playing with photos on Blogger, and somehow this one turned out like some sort of Impressionist painting with all pixels firing like rogue crayons gone amock.
The next shot is of my neighbor's tulips.
Winter is my season for doing the most writing. One of my spring uh-ohs is that I don't write as much. I do a lot of planning (planting, if you will, for future gardens). But I spend more time outdoors than I do inside unless the heat is unbearable.
Speaking of new beginnings, though, thought I'd pose some thoughts for the writers who lurk. Dorchester has a new line coming out, and they're even sponsoring a 'ball' at the Romantic Times convention in Houston called The Immortals Ball, where everyone dresses as their favorite Immortal. But when I went to the website, what I found was that this isn't a line open to other writers - it's already established, the authors picked. I guess part of me is wondering why host a ball for one group of authors to hawk their wares instead of one where the five hundred or so writers attending could feel welcome to submit something to the line? Or am I not thinking this through? You can see it for yourself
here.
Ellora's Cave is sponsoring a ball, for instance, called The Moulin Rouge Ball, where everyone is welcome to attend and dress the part, and they're also hosting hours devoted to educating those who wish to submit to their line--meaning that it's an OPEN line, all authors not yet chosen.
Here are the current guidelines for Ellora’s Cave.
There's a new line we'll hear more about at RT, and I'll keep you posted on that later. I have a couple of friends who have agreed to post photos and information to my blog while I'm in Houston that week, in case any of you wish to keep up with the parties, the HUNKS (the Mr. Romance cover model pageant is that week), the champagne & chocolate, and what's new.
Until next time...
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7 Comments:
This comment has been removed by the author.
LOL and you thought you'd be in bed by 10 pm each night!
The retreat sounds lovely.
I'm glad you're having fun and thanks for the phone cam photo! I miss ya!
(Deleted previous post due to word misspelled!)
Oh my - sounds Wonderful!!!
Still laughing over seeing Barbara Cartland and Fabio and dignitaries in the same line, lol.
Jenn
Wow! Sounds full .. full of fun, inspiration and great stories ... bet the ones not written are going to be great when you share ... and you will share, right? *grin*
Glad you are having a wonderful time!
Someday I hope to go to an RT convention ... like when my kids can be left home alone ... in 15 yrs. LOL!
TTFN
I saw a wonderful pic of you on Ann Wesley Hardin's site. Maybe I'm going to have to enter this T-shirt raffle...
Sounds like you're having a great time!
LOL and you thought you'd be in bed by 10 pm each night!
We were sooo bad. Too old to stay up like little kids without consequences, which is why it's taken me a frickin' week to recuperate, sleep late, etc. And now that I'm pretty well rested, the storms are keeping me offline. - grr
I had such a grand time, though.
Still laughing over seeing Barbara Cartland and Fabio and dignitaries in the same line, lol.
Oh, TELL me about it - lol. I was still mucho impressed.
Michele, anything you wanna know, you just gotta ask. Conference ho here WILL share what she discovers. *grin*
Rinda, some day you, CJ, and I will be at the SAME conference again. Lord, I miss you.
April, glad you're getting something out of the notes. *g*
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