If I could time travel, I'd go to Victorian era England. I have ALWAYS loved the Victorian era, although most of my knowledge of it comes from romance novels.
I want to wear the formal evening gowns, dance the waltz, drink tea at a tea party.
I want to see men dressed up in evening attire and tuxes. I want to see men bow over women's hands, or tip their hands, or actually hold a door open and hold a chair.
I'd learn everything there was to know of the etiquette for that time period. I've always wanted to take deportment classes, learn formal etiquette, actually USE etiquette.
If you could time travel where would you go and why/what would you do?
November 29, 2009
November 18, 2009
Life Goals
When I was very young, I wanted to be a teacher. I wanted to guide others, sharing my knowledge to better theirs. That changed when I realized I didn't have the patience to teach people who really didn't want to learn. I have sibling, both younger, and when I was asked to help them with their homework, it became a chore, a struggle.
When I was in my teens, I wanted to be a "gypsy". I wanted to own a beat up truck with a camper and travel. I had dreams of heading to Montana and finding a job in some greasy spoon and just living a life of obscurity. I'd write when I was alone, maybe publish some novels and a memoir of my travels. Unfortunately, that dream died when I met my then boyfriend. The two years with him and I came out of the relationship with emotional and mental scars. I'd say physical scars as well, but fortunately, the night I was "roughed up", none of the wounds left scars. We did go to Montana on a spur of the moment trip. It would have been better if I hadn't taken him. He didn't want to do anything/see anything I wanted to see and when I did stop to see something, he made such a huff about it, it was no longer fun. I could have lasted longer on the $500 I took with me if he hadn't gone with. He didn't even pitch in to help with the expenses. I really believe that if I'd gone alone, I'd still be in Montana, living out that dream.
By this time, my writing became more and more my only outlet for loneliness and pain. I never shared any of my writing and I no longer have any copies of my writing from that period of my life. However, I married, had a child, went through a major surgery, and wrote.
Becoming published was a dream I had when I was in my teens, but it wasn't something I ever considered I'd do. It was a dream, not a goal, then. Mostly because I was always told, "You have to have an agent" and "You can only get an agent when you're published". Add in the "Oh, it's not good enough to be published" and the "You have to have money to get published". Well, you can see where the dream died.
My 35th birthday came around and I realized I'd let most of my dreams and goals die. I hadn't done anything I'd wanted to do in my life. It was then that I decided I would sit down and list out my goals I wanted to achieve before I died.
1. Become an author - in process
2. Become a falconer - in process
3.Become a mother
4.Get married
5. Own a truck
6. Own a house
7.Act in a play
8.Learn to belly dance
9. Go to college
10. Go to India
11. Go to Scotland
12.Go to Virginia to visit JadedSidhe
13. Meet my favorite authors - This is a partial achievement.
14. Be able to go to a HS reunion with my head held high and not worry about the people that made my life miserable
15. Die in my sleep
16. Beat my Depression and Social Anxiety
17. See my daughter graduate
18. See my husband graduate college - in process
19. Graduate college myself
20. Achieve at least half of my goals
I have a long way to go.
So, what were and are some of your goals?
When I was in my teens, I wanted to be a "gypsy". I wanted to own a beat up truck with a camper and travel. I had dreams of heading to Montana and finding a job in some greasy spoon and just living a life of obscurity. I'd write when I was alone, maybe publish some novels and a memoir of my travels. Unfortunately, that dream died when I met my then boyfriend. The two years with him and I came out of the relationship with emotional and mental scars. I'd say physical scars as well, but fortunately, the night I was "roughed up", none of the wounds left scars. We did go to Montana on a spur of the moment trip. It would have been better if I hadn't taken him. He didn't want to do anything/see anything I wanted to see and when I did stop to see something, he made such a huff about it, it was no longer fun. I could have lasted longer on the $500 I took with me if he hadn't gone with. He didn't even pitch in to help with the expenses. I really believe that if I'd gone alone, I'd still be in Montana, living out that dream.
By this time, my writing became more and more my only outlet for loneliness and pain. I never shared any of my writing and I no longer have any copies of my writing from that period of my life. However, I married, had a child, went through a major surgery, and wrote.
Becoming published was a dream I had when I was in my teens, but it wasn't something I ever considered I'd do. It was a dream, not a goal, then. Mostly because I was always told, "You have to have an agent" and "You can only get an agent when you're published". Add in the "Oh, it's not good enough to be published" and the "You have to have money to get published". Well, you can see where the dream died.
My 35th birthday came around and I realized I'd let most of my dreams and goals die. I hadn't done anything I'd wanted to do in my life. It was then that I decided I would sit down and list out my goals I wanted to achieve before I died.
1. Become an author - in process
2. Become a falconer - in process
3.
4.
5. Own a truck
6. Own a house
7.
8.
9. Go to college
10. Go to India
11. Go to Scotland
12.
13. Meet my favorite authors - This is a partial achievement.
14. Be able to go to a HS reunion with my head held high and not worry about the people that made my life miserable
15. Die in my sleep
16. Beat my Depression and Social Anxiety
17. See my daughter graduate
18. See my husband graduate college - in process
19. Graduate college myself
20. Achieve at least half of my goals
I have a long way to go.
So, what were and are some of your goals?
November 17, 2009
Practice Daily Gratitude...
Rabbi Barush Spinoza, a 17th century Dutch philosopher, advocated a daily gratitude practice in which we should ask ourselves three questions in which to help us find more meaning and joy in our lives, and to lead us to profound inner transformation. These questions were:
1. Who or what inspired me today?
2. What brought me happiness today?
3. What brought me comfort and deep peace today?
So, in my effort to make this a daily habit, I will begin today with:
1. Waking up, knowing I was alive, and had a bird to man.
2. My daughter's smile.
3. Knowing my family loves me.
1. Who or what inspired me today?
2. What brought me happiness today?
3. What brought me comfort and deep peace today?
So, in my effort to make this a daily habit, I will begin today with:
1. Waking up, knowing I was alive, and had a bird to man.
2. My daughter's smile.
3. Knowing my family loves me.
November 9, 2009
Characters I'd invite to a party…
I just finished with my pre-edits and sent it off to my editor (I love being able to say that! LOL)
I thought I better update this blog before people decide to leave. Debated on what to write about. I didn't want to write about my writing because I think ya'll need a break from that. I didn't have any more recipes off the top of my head to post. Hmmm.
So, what if I wrote something different?
All right.
I'm having a party at my house. My invitations are spread out before me on the desk and I'm about ready to address them. Who do I invite?
Raven Whitney, from Christine Feehan's "Dark Prince".
She was the first heroine of the Carpathian series, that I read, and I fell in love with her. Sassy, yet caring, psychic and even scared to death of Mikhail, she still cared about his emotional state.
Venetia Milton, from Amanda Quick's "Second Sight".
Oh, who the hell am I kidding? I'd invite ALL of Amanda Quick's heroines. They are too funny, spunky, and still classy.
Let's see…
Sookie Stackhouse, from Charlaine Harris' Sookie Stackhouse novels. She's a kickass character in the books. Not kick ass as in a fighter, but she has a sassy mouth and in her own way, she's a bright girl. With her, Eric Northman, because who WOULDN'T invite a Viking to a party?!?
I'd have to invite a few of my own characters, of course.
Amari from my "Untamed" novella, and Sayde from my "Beyond Words" novella (which is being rewritten to become a novel).
Amari is a young woman who ran away from an abusive stepfather and met a werewolf. They fight their feelings for one another, Amari because she's afraid and Peter because he's still in love with a childhood friend.
Sayde is a young woman who can kick butt, has magick abilities, and likes to flirt with danger. In this case, danger has a name; Christopher Collins, the city's Prince and vampire.
Ahhh. I'd invite Raziel. He's from my work in progress, "Dead of Night". Arrogant bastard that he is, but he's so sexy and intense.
Poor Raz. Looks like he's the only male. Not that he'd mind. The man has an evil grin on his face and looking forward to the attention (I really need to find him someone that'll bring him down a couple of notches!).
Well, there you go.
So, who would you invite? Why?
=)
I thought I better update this blog before people decide to leave. Debated on what to write about. I didn't want to write about my writing because I think ya'll need a break from that. I didn't have any more recipes off the top of my head to post. Hmmm.
So, what if I wrote something different?
All right.
I'm having a party at my house. My invitations are spread out before me on the desk and I'm about ready to address them. Who do I invite?
Raven Whitney, from Christine Feehan's "Dark Prince".
She was the first heroine of the Carpathian series, that I read, and I fell in love with her. Sassy, yet caring, psychic and even scared to death of Mikhail, she still cared about his emotional state.
Venetia Milton, from Amanda Quick's "Second Sight".
Oh, who the hell am I kidding? I'd invite ALL of Amanda Quick's heroines. They are too funny, spunky, and still classy.
Let's see…
Sookie Stackhouse, from Charlaine Harris' Sookie Stackhouse novels. She's a kickass character in the books. Not kick ass as in a fighter, but she has a sassy mouth and in her own way, she's a bright girl. With her, Eric Northman, because who WOULDN'T invite a Viking to a party?!?
I'd have to invite a few of my own characters, of course.
Amari from my "Untamed" novella, and Sayde from my "Beyond Words" novella (which is being rewritten to become a novel).
Amari is a young woman who ran away from an abusive stepfather and met a werewolf. They fight their feelings for one another, Amari because she's afraid and Peter because he's still in love with a childhood friend.
Sayde is a young woman who can kick butt, has magick abilities, and likes to flirt with danger. In this case, danger has a name; Christopher Collins, the city's Prince and vampire.
Ahhh. I'd invite Raziel. He's from my work in progress, "Dead of Night". Arrogant bastard that he is, but he's so sexy and intense.
Poor Raz. Looks like he's the only male. Not that he'd mind. The man has an evil grin on his face and looking forward to the attention (I really need to find him someone that'll bring him down a couple of notches!).
Well, there you go.
So, who would you invite? Why?
=)
November 5, 2009
Guy Fawkes Day...
REMEMBER, REMEMBER THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER
(Traditional English Rhyme - 17th Century)
Remember, remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot
I see no reason why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'twas his intent
To blow up the King and the Parliament
Three score barrels of powder below
Poor old England to overthrow
By God's providence he was catched
With a dark lantern and burning match
Holloa boys, holloa boys
God save the King!
Hip hip hooray!
Hip hip hooray!
A penny loaf to feed ol' Pope
A farthing cheese to choke him
A pint of beer to rinse it down
A faggot of sticks to burn him
Burn him in a tub of tar
Burn him like a blazing star
Burn his body from his head
Then we'll say ol' Pope is dead.
Hip hip hooray!
Hip hip hooray!
(Traditional English Rhyme - 17th Century)
Remember, remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot
I see no reason why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'twas his intent
To blow up the King and the Parliament
Three score barrels of powder below
Poor old England to overthrow
By God's providence he was catched
With a dark lantern and burning match
Holloa boys, holloa boys
God save the King!
Hip hip hooray!
Hip hip hooray!
A penny loaf to feed ol' Pope
A farthing cheese to choke him
A pint of beer to rinse it down
A faggot of sticks to burn him
Burn him in a tub of tar
Burn him like a blazing star
Burn his body from his head
Then we'll say ol' Pope is dead.
Hip hip hooray!
Hip hip hooray!
November 4, 2009
Nano, Writing, and I HAVE AN EDITOR!
Bleh!
The first two days of Nano went great. I pounded out 4k worth of words each. Day three not so much. Maybe 100 words.
I have a feeling I'm going to fail Nano this year, but for a very good reason!
I received an email from my editor. *Dances* I have an editor! *Dances some more*
I love hearing those words. I'd hug my laptop just for the sheer fact I have email from my editor.
This joy is followed with the utmost awe and a sense of surreal disbelief.
I. Have. An. Editor.
This is the person who will be ripping my work apart and sending it back to me in shreds in order for me to put it back together in order to improve my writing. This is the person who, through the authority of their job, will make me a better writer by the changing of a word here and there, the shifting of phrases, and doing it all with a deadline and a smile.
Okay, now I'm shaking with abject terror.
I have an editor...
I look over the manuscript I sent in. I already see glaring mistakes. I'm doing pre-edits to clean it up as they requested and I cringe every time I see a mistake. I wonder how in the world they saw this is as good enough to want. The internal editor, the insidious demon that lurks in the back of my brain, in the shadowy corner there, the creature I made a deal with when I was two chapters into writing this manuscript, is screaming at me and making up for lost time. (I made a deal with this thing to just let me write it and not make a fuss so I could get it out on "paper". The beast agreed.)
Now I want to reach back there and bitch slap the beast for listening to me!
Perfectly okay, it likes the abuse. After all, it resides in the mind of a writer!
As I furiously try to do pre-edits, I've given up on eating, seeing daylight, or remembering I have a child that needs to get to the bus stop by 8:15a, or a family who really would like some clothes to wear not stained and dirty, or food to eat. Wait? What was food again?
As I, like a mad-woman, try to complete said pre-edits, all I can think of is what I'd like to to say to my editor in way of greeting. When I told my husband of my being assigned an editor, his first words were, paraphrasing Q from Star Trek: The Next Generation..."May whatever Gods she believes in, have mercy on her soul."
(He knows me all too well. This month marks 13 years together.)
Because, dear editor, I have a feeling you're going to need it, and a lot of patience, working with me. Oh, not that I'm deliberately difficult. No, but I am a beginning writer, a newbie, a virgin to the publishing industry, ripe for the plucking, prepared for the table of the great beast, the publishing industry.
I will pick your brain with questions. And pick. And pick. And pick some more.
I want to learn. I want to better my writing.
=)
The first two days of Nano went great. I pounded out 4k worth of words each. Day three not so much. Maybe 100 words.
I have a feeling I'm going to fail Nano this year, but for a very good reason!
I received an email from my editor. *Dances* I have an editor! *Dances some more*
I love hearing those words. I'd hug my laptop just for the sheer fact I have email from my editor.
This joy is followed with the utmost awe and a sense of surreal disbelief.
I. Have. An. Editor.
This is the person who will be ripping my work apart and sending it back to me in shreds in order for me to put it back together in order to improve my writing. This is the person who, through the authority of their job, will make me a better writer by the changing of a word here and there, the shifting of phrases, and doing it all with a deadline and a smile.
Okay, now I'm shaking with abject terror.
I have an editor...
I look over the manuscript I sent in. I already see glaring mistakes. I'm doing pre-edits to clean it up as they requested and I cringe every time I see a mistake. I wonder how in the world they saw this is as good enough to want. The internal editor, the insidious demon that lurks in the back of my brain, in the shadowy corner there, the creature I made a deal with when I was two chapters into writing this manuscript, is screaming at me and making up for lost time. (I made a deal with this thing to just let me write it and not make a fuss so I could get it out on "paper". The beast agreed.)
Now I want to reach back there and bitch slap the beast for listening to me!
Perfectly okay, it likes the abuse. After all, it resides in the mind of a writer!
As I furiously try to do pre-edits, I've given up on eating, seeing daylight, or remembering I have a child that needs to get to the bus stop by 8:15a, or a family who really would like some clothes to wear not stained and dirty, or food to eat. Wait? What was food again?
As I, like a mad-woman, try to complete said pre-edits, all I can think of is what I'd like to to say to my editor in way of greeting. When I told my husband of my being assigned an editor, his first words were, paraphrasing Q from Star Trek: The Next Generation..."May whatever Gods she believes in, have mercy on her soul."
(He knows me all too well. This month marks 13 years together.)
Because, dear editor, I have a feeling you're going to need it, and a lot of patience, working with me. Oh, not that I'm deliberately difficult. No, but I am a beginning writer, a newbie, a virgin to the publishing industry, ripe for the plucking, prepared for the table of the great beast, the publishing industry.
I will pick your brain with questions. And pick. And pick. And pick some more.
I want to learn. I want to better my writing.
=)
November 3, 2009
Beverage, hot or cold...
Just a recipe I thought I'd share with readers. =)
Citric Cider (or Citrus Wassail)
2 cups apple cider
1 cup orange juice
4 cups pineapple juice
12 oz apricot nectar (or mango, or papaya, or whatever for a kick!)
6 sticks cinnamon, broken up
1 tsp crushed cardamom seeds
Combine all and heat to a boil. Turn down and simmer for 15-20 minutes. Strain and serve hot for wassail, or cold for cider.
Citric Cider (or Citrus Wassail)
2 cups apple cider
1 cup orange juice
4 cups pineapple juice
12 oz apricot nectar (or mango, or papaya, or whatever for a kick!)
6 sticks cinnamon, broken up
1 tsp crushed cardamom seeds
Combine all and heat to a boil. Turn down and simmer for 15-20 minutes. Strain and serve hot for wassail, or cold for cider.
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