Bad News/Eh(?) News

This will be the first year in almost ten years I haven't attended a romance convention.

Yes, I've been forced by finances to pull out of Coastal Magic. Believe me, I wouldn't pull out for any other reason. I loved that convention last year and was looking forward to it again. Sadly, it's not to be.

I feel like an ass. Jennifer Morris, I'm so sorry. I know I apologized in my email to you, but to pull out three weeks before the convention makes me feel like a total dick.

Since I won't be doing conventions, I may (MAY) try to learn how to live vlog. Piper J. Drake has been urging me to, but I'm not a big fan of my own voice so I'm not sure how that will go. We'll see. Even if I do it, I won't do it during the week of Coastal Magic out of respect (and besides, I'll be hiding in my Box of Shame).

So. Yeah. That's my update, sad as it is. The repercussions of last year's health problems are still being felt even now. I'll miss you guys this year. You have no idea how much you cheer me up when I see you, so lift a glass for me, will you?

Samhain is NOT Closing

I repeat: Samhain Publishing is NOT closing!

What this means is I don't have to shop your favorite series out to another publisher. I can start working on them again soon, once submissions are open again. Since I have contracts with them already for three books (Electric Dreams, Hope in Darkness and Hide and Seek) I'll be working on those after I'm done Hour of the Wolf.

For you guys, this means there was an unexpected delay in the books you want. I'm sorry for that, but it wasn't my call and I was pretty panicked over what might happen to some of my favorite series.

And now I don't have to  panic anymore.

An FYI

I just wanted to let everyone know that I'm still here, and I'm still working. I just finished the final rough draft of More Than Words and it's with my beta readers now. I've started work on Hour of the Wolf, the next Maggie's Grove series. And I'm in talks to start a new series at Entangled Press, but that's for after I finish Hour of the Wolf.

See, I'm still here, still standing, and still trying to figure out my life post-Samhain. Mostly. The weather in my area has been beastly, with rain, rain, and a little rain thrown in for good measure. It's slowed me down, but it hasn't stopped me. Not yet, anyway.

I've also got plans for another series (I'm addicted, I tell you! Addicted!), but it's still way in the planning stage and I haven't gotten very far with it. As with everything else, I need to do some world-building to get everything straight as far as the paranormal rules go, and what I can and cannot do.

As far as the rest of my books, I've gotten advice on what to do with my series that are completed and may not be wanted by a new publisher. I'm giving it some thought, discussing it with Dustin, and will let you know what my ultimate decision will be. The others are still kind of in limbo, and that's all I can say about it at the moment.

So don't worry, guys. Everything will be just fine. Right?

Right.

Bloggity Blog Blog Blog

How many blogs can a blogging blogger blog if a blogging blogger does her blogs?

(It's all about that blog, bout that blog, bout that blog (Not Tumblr)...)

Too...much...blogging. Brain...dying...

So I woke up this morning remembering that I had a blog post to write for Carina Press about my upcoming release, Of Shadows and Ash. So I settled at my computer and began to write that blog, and as I did so, I remembered I had to blog about my playlist for Of Shadows and Ash (a blog that might never go live, but hey! Music! So I wrote it.) And while I was listening to music, I remembered I needed to write a blog for the Harlequin website.

When I was done, I decided to blog about all the blogging.

So with all that blogging, my blogging brain just blogged down.So I decided when I was done that I needed to Google some stuff for the edits I planned to do after I was done blogging. Of course, I was Googling things for the playlist blog.

Argh. And now my eyes hurt. Some songs should not be made into videos. *shudder*

Now I know what happened to the Oompa Loompas once Charlie shut down the chocolate factory.

And, of course, in the back of your mind, there's this. Always, this:

But I am writing, beuatiful Thor man with the large...hammer. I'm just writing blog post after blog post.

(Wait. Did I finish that blog post?)

At least the first round of edits on Not Broken has been sent back to my editor, so I got something other than blogging done.

So the blog posts are sent in, and here I am...blogging. Ayup. Because the brain, she is stuck staring at memes, gifs, and trying to refresh my brain by watching Markiplier play Outlast.

Ah, video games. Thou art my salvation.

Where The Hell Have You Been?

Short answer: MOVING.

Long answer:

Dusty and I had a house built that's more handicap friendly, so we've been unpacking, and building furniture, and getting the pets used to their new home, and setting up our offices, and working, and...

Add in two cons, plus edits, plus writing Figure of Speech, and I've been a busy little bee.

Oh, here's the new office. My desk hasn't arrived yet (it's backordered...of course), but other than that it's mostly set up. I even have a fireplace in here you can't see because my back is to it.

Not the neatest space in the world, but that's how Dana do.

(Yes, I've been watching way too many Zefrank videos on YouTube in between insane boughts of do-ing. Also, remember, people. Eat your vegetables, or you too will look like a freaky, freaky little tarsier.)

So basically, the level of insanity has been ramped up in Casa de Bell, possibly because of the freaky little tarsier. I mean, look at him. That's the same look my kids give me when I ask if they have homework while they're playing video games.

OH! Before I forget: LORI FOSTER READER AUTHOR GET-TOGETHER! I'll be at the Friday night book signing!

Change This, Not That

Every author goes through edits. And every author, at some point during the editing process, also goes through-

Ow.

I've said it before: I love going through edits, tightening the story, making it much better than what I could have accomplished on my own. I know what I meant to say, but it takes an outsider to see the inconsistencies and make sure I get my story across correctly.

What the inside of my brain looks like.

Most of the time, it's kind of interesting to see it from the point of view of someone who has to examine the trees rather than see the forest. A lot of "D'oh!" moments happen during this process. Like forgetting entire plot points.

And now I have to clean up my doodie.

But I digress. That doesn't mean going through the editing process doesn't have its frustrating moments. "Remove the dialog tags here." "Change the dialog tags there." "But don't remove the dialog tags here." "Remove the dialog tags there." "You need to add some dialog tags, I have no idea who's speaking."

And while I'm laughing as I type this (because all of the above is freakin' valid complaints that need to be addressed), it can feel a little... well...

Uncle! Aunt! Galactus! ANYBODY!

But the good news is, I'm almost done this round of edits on All For You, which means I'll be back to writing Throne of Oak next week.

Right before I get a round of edits.


(P.S.: I love M.C. Escher's art. The above print can be found at http://www.allposters.com/-sp/Relativity-Posters_i8092129_.htm)

Furniture Shopping (Or How Children Kill Brain Cells)

Dusty and I have been forcing (yes, people, with whips and chains I tell you!) the children to accompany us when we go furniture shopping on the weekends.

Oh. The horror.

You see, we're doing a family room/kitchen remodel (heavy on the family room). One of the things I want to do is replace the old microfiber couch with a leather one, get a nice, comfy chaise lounge for me and a swivel recliner for Dusty. So far we've found the sofa and the recliner, but the chaise eludes us. So we trek on, intrepid hunters that we are, and thank god every time we go that furniture doesn't eat people. Because if we had to sneak up on an unsuspecting entertainment center just dying for a taste of juicy human, we'd be toast. Our kids couldn't be quiet if we showed them a tiger and said "If you don't be quiet he will eat you."

I can almost hear the chorus of "Why?"

So anyway, off we go furniture shopping. I'm having a really hard time finding a store that stocks chaises in their showroom. I have to test the tushie quotient, you see. If the tushie isn't happy, I'm not sitting in it. No on-line chaise shopping for me. So off we go, piling into the car and heading out onto the highway. The six year old is happily be-bopping to They Might Be Giants on his PSP when suddenly he pauses. "Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"I farted."

Cue eleven year old's hysterical laughter. Why it's so funny that his baby brother cut the cheese is beyond me, but hey. I've never been an eleven year old boy, so what do I know?

I pinch the bridge of my nose and try not to breathe. Dear God in heaven, buffaloes smell sweeter. "Thank you for sharing. No. I mean it."

Dusty rolls down car window. Did I mention we were in the car? Note to self: check what I've been feeding that child. Oi.

Now that he's no longer so gassy, M begins making up lyrics to They Might Be Giants, who really didn't need the help.

R pauses his video game. I'm not sure which one it was, except he was muttering about building monsters and M seemed to know what he was talking about. "You know, I never realized how many forms Gabumon has."

"Huh?" I love it when Dusty gets that adorably confused look on his face. It happens so often recently.

"Huh?" I  echo, because he doesn't have a Digimon game and there is no Digimon currently in the car. Where did that come from?

"There's Punimon, who's pink and shoots acid bubbles. And jelly his friends can eat."

Already I can see Dusty's eyes glazing over. Which is bad, because he's driving.

"Then he digitizes into Tsunomon, who also blows bubbles, but they don't hurt anybody. Oh, and then there's Garurumon, and WereGarurumon."

"Don't forget Omnimon!" chimes in the six year old, who has gotten over his sudden burst of flatulence to join the conversation. He's been watching Digimon with his big brother, and I get the theme song stuck in my head for days at a time. The good news is Sunday morning it was kicked out by the chorus of Heat Miser, so I didn't have to suffer for long.

"Oh yeaaaah." R drawl. "It's cool when Gabumon digitizes into Omnimon."

"You guys might want to stop before Mommymon digitizes into MonsterMommymon. Grr."

The kids laugh, but it's that evil laugh that lets you know they aren't done yet. Oh no. You've ruined their Saturday by making them go furniture shopping. It's payback time.

"Patrick has a flag sticking out of his butt," giggles the six year old.

"Do you think Guilmon looks like a velociraptor? He's actually a virus."

M briefly stops humming One Dozen Monkeys. Did you know the twelfth monkey's name is Larry? I do. "Can we go to McDonalds? I love their french fries."

Now steam is beginning to come out of Dusty's ears. "You don't like anything else there, M." M has been begging shamelessly for french fries ever since we got into the car. Being a quarter Italian, every road trip must involve food somehow, no matter how short a drive it is. "Besides, we're going to Friendly's, remember?"

"But I LOVE their french fries, Daddy. Can we?"

"Guilmon digitizes into WarGrowlmon. It's his Ultimate form. He's kinda neat looking." R's head tilts. "Can we have pizza instead? I like Little Caesar's."

"We're doing pizza Monday night, remember? I already promised. So no pizza tonight." Visions of chaises are dancing in my head, so I don't realize that we're there. Besides, I can tune out Digimon faster than my kids can tune out a lecture, which is pretty damn fast from the way I've seen their eyes glaze over. I can tell they've already checked out before my lips even part.

"Aw man."

"Does Friendly's have french fries?"

"Yes, M. They do."

"Cool. Mommy?"

"Hmm?"

"I farted again."

R begins giggling hysterically again.

Dusty, wild-eyed, pulls into the JC Penney parking lot. Fifteen minutes locked in a car with his children and he's ready to bolt. "What are we here for again?"

"Furniture."

He sighs and gets out of the car, ready to release the kids into the wild of the shopping mall. "I could be running my monk through Thelanis again on elite. They're handing out extra experience right now."

"FRENCH FRIES!"

Next weekend we get to drive thirty minutes to furniture store. If I'm not back by Monday, check in McDonald's. I'll probably be buried under french fries and digital monkeys.

Last Week: Why Me?

So. Yeah. Last week. What to say about last week? We found out that our dog, Precious, aka Houdini Dog, needs surgery for her torn ligament. Despite our attempts at restraining her and keeping her from using stairs she insists on jumping boxes and other obstacles while three-legged and is still the terror of our neighborhood squirrels. In fact, the boxes we set on the stairs to keep her off them were still in place, yet we woke up to find the dog by the side of the bed wagging her tail and standing on three legs. Even the cat looked confused at that one.

I had an eye appointment with my son R that had to be missed due to... well. You'll see. I got almost all my promo for RT assembled, found a suitcase my fairy wings fit into that isn't going to kill me moving it and I got my word count done for the first time in MONTHS. The weather this year has been kicking my ass left and right, but last week I was on the ball and nearly hit the 40k mark with Norwegian Wood. I also got rid of the fifteen year old monstrosity that came with my house, aka, The Fridge of Death. I hit my damn head so many times on the sharp pointy freezer handle just trying to get a damn soda I'm surprised I'm not drooling in a corner somewhere cackling about tiny bubbles. I've been planning on replacing it since the day I moved in almost seven years ago.

Procrastination. I is da queen.

It just so happened that Sears was having a sale this weekend, so Friday we braved the rain and off we went to look at a new fridge. We found one we loved: french door style, ice maker on the front, the freezer has an "auto-open" part to the drawer that made Dusty squee like a fashionista at a Saks sale. Needless to say, we bought it and arranged to have it delivered.

And on the way home, in the Burger King drive-thru, the engine light went on in our car. Our car that we JUST paid off. Our car that was officially out of warranty less than a month ago. Our ONLY car since we sold our other one after paying IT off to some friends in desperate need of a second vehicle.

Gah.

The car is in the shop now. The fridge is in the kitchen, shiny and happy and unwilling to give me a concussion (rounded handles... gotta love them). My eye appointment and Precious's surgery have to be rescheduled.

And my word count is calling my name on a fresh week. And did I mention I have to fill out some Mad Libs for the Sinfully Sweet party at RT?

Hell, at least I don't need a car for that.