Since I didn’t blog Monday (I spent the day in bed nursing a cowd and watching all my DVR’ed episodes of Gossip Girl–don’t JUDGE!), I thought I’d blog today about my 2009 Goals. I know Dennie kinda touched on goals yesterday. Like her, I didn’t get near done what I wanted, but unlike her, I”m much harder on myself. I didn’t have the excuses of multiple health issues this year like she did–so shame on me. And in the last three months I’ve started three different book proposals and wavered between a few others sitting on my hard drive. I’m rather disgusted with myself and this serious case of writers ADD I seem to have. All that said, after two years of writing and being published, maybe I just needed some downtime to recharge. Yeah…that’s it.

The struggle for balance continues.  :yes:

GOALS:

1. Take at least four writing-related classes. I’m already signed up for one so i only have three left.

2. Finish current erotica proposal (I had a huge epiphany at 6 am while blowing a ton of snot out of my nose–DONT JUDGE!)

3. Finish YA proposal (which actually means I’m probably going to have to write the whole book).

4. (from last year’s list *hanging head*) Dust off proposal for anthology w/Raine and submit it.  This poor proposal went four rounds with my last agent and I think Raine and I both lost confidence in it but it’s good and funny and I don’t care if we have to go with an e-publisher, I’d like to see it out there this year.

5. Finish one of two women’s fiction proposals.

6. Write novella for project with Charlene.

That’s it. Just six things…plus one more. A biggie I’ve been putting off.

(more…)

2008 zoomed by. Actually that is both good and bad. Between family illnesses and writing accomplishments, this year has been the strangest yet (and in my family, that’s saying a lot!)

Still, I am a little sad to see another year winding down. So many things I didn’t get to, so many goals pushed to the side of life, but it wasn’t all unproductive. I did have one book release in ‘08 (that I sold in late ‘07). And I sold my fifth book to Samhain this year and it will be released in a couple of weeks.

With another calendar pulled down and the new one(s) hoisted (in about three different places as I tend to need more than one reminder) the prospect of a fresh start is as exciting as always. On the personal side of it: Another year to look for gray hair on the DH–I don’t have a single one, and lest you think it’s a fluke genetic thing–it’s MS. Clairol–god love the hair dye. And it’s another year that my kiddos grow and edge closer to topping me–two down, two to go (though I am only 5′3″ so it’s not like they have far to go to pass me).

On a writer’s front, I tend to be more over-ambitious than maybe I should–I tend to make too many goals. That way, if I only get to half, I got half done. Whereas if I only made one or two and didn’t get to them, well . . . it’s a mental trickery thing. It works for me; for now. Though I will say, I don’t do resolutions per se, I tend to reevaluate my goals as the year progresses so it’s a fluid list.

And I LURVE making lists–I’m weird, what can I say?!?!?

To all the Chica readers, I hope you have a wonderful, productive 2009 and may it live up to all of your (good, hopeful) expectations ~

Christmas—done.  Packages opened, food digested, thanks given in abundance.  Hope yours was full of love and warmth (and kick-ass pressies to boot).

Next stop?  2009.

This will be my last Chica post of 2008, and I find I have mixed emotions about it.
The past year or so has been an interesting Southern Fried time.

We dragged Vanessa Jaye into our little clique, forcing her to come up with  giving her a monthly spot as a regular.

We ushered in the “Behind the Book” concept, and were astounded to find that so many authors, both newbies and big names, were eager to post on our site.

We ranted about writing, publishing, economics, and family.  We pimped our books, analyzed problems with other books, and made fun of the business, since sometimes that was the only way to remain sane.

Was all of this the best way to go?  I don’t know.  To grab a larger audience I guess we could’ve tried other approaches.  Gone snarky.  Or become pimp-hos.  Or pseudo-intellectuals.  Or Southern Fried Bitches From Hell (which isn’t a bad blog name, come to think of it).

But I think we tried to remain true to who we were, and to be entertaining, thoughtful, and honest as authors in our respective positions.

I hope you enjoyed visiting.  We certainly enjoyed having you.

And since this will be my last Chica chance to say so—
HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE!!
Bling it in with a smile, and may 2009 rock your world.

It’s Christmas.  The day we’re all supposed to exchange gifts.

Well, since this is the internet whatever I give you will have to be virtual.

So here’s a widdle pressie.

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Once upon a time there was a girl who loved to write.  It was only when she was writing that she felt happy, for her life had been hard and brutally led.

Despite her kind heart and loving nature, the girl could find no comfort.  She lived in a starving artist’s loft during this most bitter of winters with no heat, surviving on ramen noodles and rice.  During the icy days she took to the streets, trying to sell her matches, dime bags, and maryjanes.  But with cluckers lurking in the alleys and undercover cops sniffing up her skirt, it was becoming ever so hard to make a simple sale, and the girl grew poorer and poorer as the weeks marched on.

Only during the frigid nights did she truly feel alive, when she could work on the romantic tales that made her happy—Hot with Heart.  Stories of studs on steeds, and jeweled nipple rings, and heroines sitting on rough, bearded faces until they came so hard they squealed for joy.

But her meager pennies were spent on stamps for submissions that disappeared in the dark maws of slush piles, and no one seemed to hear her cries.

Finally, upon this night, the coldest in recorded history, her little fingers were too numb to hold her nib of a quill.  Her stomach cramped with a terrible gnawing need that chewed away at her hope, and even her small drink of water had turned to ice.  Every now and then she moved her dainty, dimpled bum around in the seat to keep from freezing.  Even her wee coochie, as yet untouched by man, clenched and wept for warmth, distracting her from her work.

She could not even feel her feet beneath her shabby wooden chair, and the last ember of her poor fire gasped on the hearth.

“There is no help for it.”  She whispered to herself between chattering teeth.  “It is my best hope, my dearest love, my last existing manuscript…but I fear I must burn it or die.”

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Wishing you and yours a very Merry Christmas ~

and a little poem:

‘Tis a Writer’s Christmas

Wreck your halls with discarded edits – Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la 

‘Tis the reason you bought the shred-it – Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

Drawn some characters who will sass you – Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

Throw it all away and start again brand new – Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

(written on Sunday night)

I should write something cheery since it’s officially like 2 or 3 days until Christmas, but like my esteemed critique partner and much-loved friend, Tanya, I have little love for the Happiest Fricken Time of the *cough* Year (I restrained myself) I just ain’t feeling the love–not after shopping with my children this morning.

So I dropped them off at hom and took off to run some errands by myself. And I’m driving down teh road, stone-cold sober when I pass a brown Nissan X-terra waiting to turn. Behind the wheel was none other than the dude in red. And he had a Starbucks cup in his hand.

I. Was. Sober.

I have to tell you, I’ve had my fill of Christmas as it stands. I definitely think it’s time for a change, for some new traditions (and I now understand why, instead of Christmas, my hairdresser takes her family snow skiing). I’m thinking no presents next year (I’d rather make them go buy toys and give them to charity). I know…I know…that’s going to go over like a fart in church but come on! They’ll be 16 and 14! They don’t need presents!

So if you could start a new tradition, what would you do differently this Christmas?

And I’d like to take this time to wish you all a quiet, and more importantly, warm and peaceful holiday.

PS Raine!!!!!!!!! I respectfully request that you re-post The Little Match Girl on Christmas Eve–PRETTY PRETTY PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!

This is my last Chica post before Christmas, and in all honesty I wanted to do something special with it.

Honestly.

Unfortunately, I didn’t plan ahead of time (of course), so wound up trying to come up with something at the last minute (of course).

I started an adaptation of “The Night Before Christmas”, which quickly turned into a violent, bloody confrontation between the guy who’d settled down for a long winters’ nap and the trespassing dude in patent leather, red velvet, and kick-ass candy canes.

Nooooooooo…

Next came the idea of a short Christmas Urban Fantasy.
Huzzah!!
Roving gangs of toothy little elves, turned into carnivorous monsters by a huge, glowing meteor that crashed at the North Pole.  Santa, of course, wings his way to the rescue with reindeer and rolling thunder, but is hampered by the fact that, other than the prostitute who works part-time as an elf-sleigher…er, slayer, nobody seems to believe him—or IN him.

Noooooooo…

Neither idea, unfortunately, captured the spirit of the season I’d intended.
So instead, I will wish our Chica readers a few of the simple things:

The sound of children’s laughter and joy.
A warm bed on a cold winter’s night.
The scent of nutmeg, vanilla, candles, and pine.
Light in your life, and comfort on your path.
A fire in your heart and hearth.
That you may share this holiday, and whatever you believe, with those you love surrounding you.

All the best,
 Chica Raine
 

Things I ask almost every year. Answer one or more of the following:

1. Is your Christmas tree live or fake?
2. Do you have any Christmas gift horror stories (a relative from hell who is never satisfied, people who give horrible gifts or people you suspect are re-gifters … etc)
3. What’s number one on your Santa list?
4. How has the economy affected your gift buying?
5. Do you hate Christmas as much as I do?

Saturday morning I was wanting to read something. I have been nursing a book for 3 1/2 months now. It’s not a bad book, but I just can’t get all jazzed about it. Instead of finishing the afore mentioned book, I pulled one out from my keeper shelf and read it–for the sixth or seventh time. I will say there are some parts I remember almost word for word so I skimmed over them and got through the entire book in a couple of hours, but it never fails to put me in a good frame of mind.

It’s not even the familiarity of the books that does it for me. I have other books I can read once and remember so well and eh, I don’t wanna read it again no matter how much I like it. (Kinda like TV or movies–I see stuff that I love and don’t necessarily want to see again . . . evah, but there are some that every time I come across it there I am).

I will say that actually this particular author, with this particular series, I have read and re-read ALL of the books. (Before you ask: Lindsay Chamberlain series by Beverly Connor)

It boggles the mind as to why I can read a book umpteen times and enjoy it as much from one time to the next. Is this the same for y’all?