Southern Fried Chicas

Multi-published author Monica Jackson died today during surgery—this according to a tweet from her daughter, Amethyst.

RIP, Beautiful Lady

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Okay, maybe hate is too strong a word.  How about I dislike them very, very much?

I snagged this from a recent article in The Guardian titled, Who’s helping who in the cover blurb game? 

“At the end of the day, author endorsements are probably of minimal value. Does anyone really believe them? Browsing through the crime section of my local Waterstones, I get a true sense of conspiracy. Harlan Coben praises Michael Connelly. Michael Connelly loves Jeff Abbott (“A hell of a page-turner”). Jeff Abbott is praised by Lee Child who is admired by Stephen King and by Jeffrey Deaver. There’s Ian Rankin plugging Val McDermid who’s a fan of Harlan Coben… or maybe it’s the other way round. I’m not saying any of these authors are insincere. But the overall impression is simply that big writers like big writers and my reaction is – so what? Tell us something we don’t know.“

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I have a little movie gripe… well, it can apply to movies and TV shows. You see, the other day I had a veggie day. I holed up in my room and watched movies. HBO or something happened to have Speed on (I love that movie so very, very much) and then Speed II; which I hadn’t seen all the way through in one sitting before. And while I admit Speed II isn’t cinematic genius, it is a movie where you can sit back and watch things explode and people get to be heroes-good clean, explosive entertainment. So anyway, back to my gripe. In Speed Annie and Jack (Sandra B and Keanu R) make a love connection by the end of the film, but in the sequel, they have broken up and she has a new beau. I get that Keanu probably didn’t want to do the next one, but c’mon, a totally different person. (And poor Sandy was completely boyfriendless in Miss Congeniality II despite the hook up with Benji in one-and yes, I love those movies too!)

Anyhoo. this happens all to often. Look at Karate Kid. Daniel was so in love with Ali, but cut to # 2 and she’s tore up his cool car and he’s cursing her name. At least in Back to the Future, they just recast (interestingly enough Elisabeth Shue who didn’t do the Karate Kid sequel…) Jennifer. They even tried to make her look similar with a weird looking wig.  But back to the “didn’t make the sequel…” It irks when the characters were so in love in the first but want to cut each other’s throats in the next. Sure, I get that stuff like that happens in “real life” and maybe it’s truer than the movies where couples last a few rounds of sequels, but that’s not what I want from my entertainment. I don’t want to be reminded that that kinda crap happens. I want to see folks fall in love. And things explode-and that doesn’t have to be mutually exclusive.

And please, don’t get me started about that ice skating movie (sorry, can’t remember what it’s called) where they were each other’s love of a lifetime, then cut to the 3rd or 4th incarnation (their kid’s story) and they’re divorced and hate each other. I don’t know why that bugs the crap out of me.

There are many others where the character doesn’t make the sequel. I don’t know that it happens as often-if at all-in books. I mean really, if you have a character that refuses to cooperate… at that point I think medical treatment may be necessary. For the author. Not the character.

We all get hung up on something. Something that makes you gnash your teeth while you sit through a film or TV show. That’s (one of) my movie gripe. Does that one even make a blip on your screen (pardon the terrible pun). Or is yours something equally as teeth gnashingly annoying?

They had become pretty sure of themselves and their surroundings.  Complacent.  The colony had existed for decades now, and there were few surprises to be found on its fringes.  So naturally he thought nothing of venturing a mile or so beyond, collecting samples of the soil and rocks.  His friend had followed the path of the sun, while Anton had claimed the riverbank.  All of its stones worn smooth by water.

All except one.  The one that pierced his suit when he fell…

This was, roughly, the beginning of what I consider my first “real” story.  I was about seven or eight years old, I think.  I’d written little songs and rhymes.  I’d made up my own superheroes, organized a group, and attempted to draw my own comics.  But this story was MINE.  Not some kind of fanfic, or a story idea I’d gotten from reading.

It was the story of Anton, whose protective suit was pierced enough to allow his oxygen to seep slowly out.  Who discovered that his land skimmer wouldn’t start, and his friend was out of communications range.  It was about what he thought and felt as he ran, then walked, and was eventually forced to crawl back toward “civilization”, desperate, afraid, but determined.

God, I loved that story.

Because there was no such thing as “spare paper” in our household at that time, I begged for my sister’s discarded homework.  I wrote my little story in a very fine hand oh so carefully, and sewed them into a book when it was done.

I even waited until one rare afternoon when neither parent was about, and used our brand new phone (one of those heavy black suckers you could kill somebody with) to call a local publisher, and asked if he would publish my book.

He must’ve been a very kind man, not wanting to dash the dreams of a child, and said yes, if I would just send it to him, with a smile in his voice.

Do you remember your first “real” story?

Care to share?

  First of all, I want to congratulate Mel/Sofia on the recent sale of her book.  Good job, lady!!!!!   I’m sure they’ll be many more to come!

Okay, now let’s get down to business.  Last week I wrote about my rejection recovery process, and one of our regular readers was surprised that I actually get letters.  Reason being, many editors and agents don’t even bother to respond.  I often wonder which is worse.  Dealing with the black hole of the submission process or receiving a detailed explanation as to why they think our stories suck aren’t “right” for them. Hmmm. What say you?

Whatever the case, I said I’d dig up an ANCIENT post where I included actual rejection letters.  Well, here it is, in all its infamy. The book in question has since been burned.  Yeah, that’s right.  I burned that sucker on an open-pit BBQer with charcoal and lighter fluid.

It was very liberating. 

Enjoy!

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For years I have been bugging my hubby to take me to Hawaii. It is one of those dream vacations I have wanted to go on for as long as I can remember (I don’t know why we didn’t pick it for the honeymoon-we went to Cancun instead). Needless to say, I never got there. So as our 20th anniversary approached (it’s next month) I got tired of waiting and gave him an ultimatum. I’d like to say I’m not proud of throwing down the demand, but well. because of his job, *I* can’t plan trips. It all has to be (delicately) worked around his schedule-which is always crazy thanks to the wonderful world of sports..

Anyhoo, I nagged and nagged until he *finally* sat down and looked over his schedule and made plans to take off work. Last week (and the week before-we left on the 24th and got back on the 3rd) the hubby and I took a very long-overdue vacation to Oahu. It was nine, glorious kid-free days. Don’t get me wrong, I missed my kids, but that is the longest I have been away from them EVER. And the first time the hubby and I were both gone together for more than 2 nights-we’ve taken two trips sans kids in the last 20 years-and one was only night away. We were due. And thanks to the MIL who came and stayed with the kids, we got to get away.

For my first (and hopefully not last) trip to Hawaii, I have to say the experience was . strange. Starting from the airport itself. It’s an open air airport. Sure there are doors where the gates are but to get from one part to another, you walk all exposed. Even the lobbies at most of the hotels there are open air. As best as I could discern ours hand no doors whatsoever (we stayed at the Aston Beach Waikiki hotel. It didn’t rain much while we were there, but I could only imagine what a bad storm would do. And we were lucky the section our room was in, the front door wasn’t inside like 90% of the rooms. We had a view front and back (and despite what my 13yo said, it was not a motel even though our door was out in the open). From our hotel balcony we could see beach and ocean in one direct and mountains in the other. And  Diamondhead-a large crater out the front door. Having living in the Dallas/Fort Worth area since I was 9 I am not used to seeing elevation. Read the rest of this entry »

Now Chicas hasn’t been hacked by some interloper. Don’t freak out. My alterego’s alterego is stepping in to announce a bit of good news. This oversight was indirectly pointed out by our own wonderful commenter, Bernard.

Anyway, Sofia Harper is glad to announce happy delirious great news of getting a contract from Entangled. She wanted to tell the world the good news and was remiss in telling the Chicas of all people. She assumed y’all had osmosis. I know, shame on her. So, this totally explains the reason behind the upbeat and chipper post Take It In.

Now, Sofia Harper is stepping down. Melissa Blue is stepping back in. We can now go back to our regularly scheduled blogging.

While scrolling through Twitter a couple of weeks ago, I came across a rather anguished tweet by an author of erotica (who shall remain unnamed). 

She was upset because she’d just discovered that a cousin of hers who uses Facebook to socialize had just posted a huge post RAVING about the newest pub rage, “50 Shades of Grey”.

Unfortunately, that cousin had never so much as mentioned one of the author’s books, though she’s been successful in her own right.

You can certainly understand her being upset about this, even if the cousin has every right to support what she wants when she wants.  It’s only natural to expect support from those who are close to you.  And the situation struck a special chord with me.

With the exception of a college-aged niece, not a single member of my family has ever read a single book I’ve had published.

This is not a whine, no need for sympathy.  It’s their choice, their right.  I’m only putting this out there in case someone else has had the same thing happen to them.  It’s a solitary affair as it is, so I can’t emphasize enough how important having a support system is in the writing/publishing business.  And if you’re not getting that from your family/friends/writing peers, I highly recommend you find some who will.

I’ve been lucky enough to meet some of the nicest people on the planet online, and it’s helped make a difference.  Everyone, however, has not been so fortunate.

I remember an old friend from a writers’ Yahoo group I used to frequent.  A lovely person and promising writer, she was usually completely stressed out whenever she posted, ready to give up on the writing at any moment.  She had a husband who not only was not supportive; he sabotaged her at every turn by insisting that her “selfish” desire to be an author and the scant forty-five minutes a day she spent writing was depriving her family of quality time.

Sadly, she did give up her writing.  And not surprisingly, she eventually got a divorce (and has even less free time now as a single working mother).  She’s still pretty young, so I hope things will get better for her.

So, if you have a few supportive souls standing with you—appreciate them.  They’re priceless.  If you’re feeling pretty alone in these waters, find a group or a few online buddies who share your interests and understand.  And if you have a favorite author, or anyone you’ve enjoyed reading lately, drop ‘em a line and let them know.

It may be just what they need to hear.

Some time ago, an agent wrote about the hard road to publication and the mental and physical gymnastics writers face while navigating it. I saved the link because it stuck with me.  Here’s an excerpt:

“…continue to finish things and send them out until your fingers bleed words and you net that first sale… If it’s really what you want are you going to let a handful (or even a room full) of rejections be all that is standing in your way. They’re stones in the road. Sure, some of them will trip you up, but you’re not going to get anywhere if you don’t pick yourself up, learn something, and keep going.“

I cleaned off my desk last week (the M-I-L came to stay with the kids and the desk was a little embarrassing). Within the bookends, I have a section of desk that does have books set up—45 to be exact—they stay there, it looks nice to me. Yeah, that’s a lot, but sadly not all. I also had 25 *other books* just strewn around the top of the desk (it is a pretty big desk) as well as umpteen notebooks. Not to mention piles upon piles of loose notes. There was pretty much one small space where I could set something down if I was using it but if I needed to write “on” something, I had to shove my keyboard under the little stand that the laptop is on. It was shameful, I know.

But like I said, it’s clean now. So clean in fact, I don’t even want to put any extra papers on it ’cause it looks so nice and may never look like this again (well, aside from the occasion visit that requires tidiness). And despite the mess, I did know where everything was—which pile held what set of notes, etc. Nothing was ever lost, though I may have had to dig for a bit to get to something.

I was at the hubby’s office the other day and his desk was just as tore up. I made fun of him for it (though, we both knew mine was far worse). I mentioned that old adage, “cluttered desk, cluttered mind.” I don’t know if that is necessarily true. I mean, sure, I am ditzy, but that has more to do with being a mom of 4, blond-ish and female… HA! And lets not forget, I am an admitted hoarder-lite/pack rat so clutter comes with the territory. I tend not to throw things away until it is absolutely, positively necessary—you never know when it will come in handy!

What’s your workspace like? Is it managed piles of thoughts and ideas or are you more the clean and tidy type? Has your mess ever come back to haunt you?