Peggy Jaeger's Blog, page 292
September 16, 2015
Hungry for something spicy and new?
MFRW BOOK HOOKS BLOG HOP is today!!!
click on the link at the bottom and discover your next favorite author! But first…..
here’s a little sumthin’ sumthin’ from my new release, FIRST IMPRESSIONS. Padric Cleary is hungry and not just for food!
“Clarissa,” he whispered, his nose nuzzling along the outer edge of her jaw.
“Y-yes?”
His lips skimmed her throat, trailing lazily along the column of her blouse. He placed an open-mouthed, wet kiss along the skin beneath her ear, and she finally let out the breath she’d been holding, fearful she would faint dead away if she didn’t.
“I smell turkey,” he said softly, and took her ear lobe into his mouth.
As he gently sucked on it, Clarissa felt a punch of lust straight through her midsection. “Wh-what?” She gasped when his tongue slid against her throat.
“And biscuits.”
“Biscuits?” Confusion vied with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
“Mmmm. Turkey and biscuits.” He licked her collarbone and then sucked at the skin covering it.
“Oh, sweet Jesus.”
With a smile dancing on his lips, he pulled back and looked at her face. “Clarissa, I’m starving.”
She blinked a few times.
“You wouldn’t, by any chance, want to share your dinner with me, would you? Friend.”
FirstImpressions_w9816_2_85
Blurb:
Family Practice Doctor Clarissa Rogers’ first impression of Padric Cleary is biased and based on gossip. The handsome, charming veterinarian is considered a serial dater and commitment-phobic by his family and most of the town. Relationship shy, Clarissa refuses to lose her heart to a man who can’t pledge himself to her forever.
Pat Cleary, despite his reputation, is actually looking for “The One.” When he does give his heart away, he wants it to be for life. With his parent’s marriage as his guidebook, he wants a woman who will be his equal and soul mate in every way.
Can Pat convince everyone – including Clarissa – she’s the only woman for him?
Buy Links:
Amazon The Wild Rose Press Barnes & Noble
Blog Hop
Tweet me Pin me Friend me Read me Visit me
click on the link at the bottom and discover your next favorite author! But first…..
here’s a little sumthin’ sumthin’ from my new release, FIRST IMPRESSIONS. Padric Cleary is hungry and not just for food!
“Clarissa,” he whispered, his nose nuzzling along the outer edge of her jaw.
“Y-yes?”
His lips skimmed her throat, trailing lazily along the column of her blouse. He placed an open-mouthed, wet kiss along the skin beneath her ear, and she finally let out the breath she’d been holding, fearful she would faint dead away if she didn’t.
“I smell turkey,” he said softly, and took her ear lobe into his mouth.
As he gently sucked on it, Clarissa felt a punch of lust straight through her midsection. “Wh-what?” She gasped when his tongue slid against her throat.
“And biscuits.”
“Biscuits?” Confusion vied with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
“Mmmm. Turkey and biscuits.” He licked her collarbone and then sucked at the skin covering it.
“Oh, sweet Jesus.”
With a smile dancing on his lips, he pulled back and looked at her face. “Clarissa, I’m starving.”
She blinked a few times.
“You wouldn’t, by any chance, want to share your dinner with me, would you? Friend.”
FirstImpressions_w9816_2_85
Blurb:
Family Practice Doctor Clarissa Rogers’ first impression of Padric Cleary is biased and based on gossip. The handsome, charming veterinarian is considered a serial dater and commitment-phobic by his family and most of the town. Relationship shy, Clarissa refuses to lose her heart to a man who can’t pledge himself to her forever.
Pat Cleary, despite his reputation, is actually looking for “The One.” When he does give his heart away, he wants it to be for life. With his parent’s marriage as his guidebook, he wants a woman who will be his equal and soul mate in every way.
Can Pat convince everyone – including Clarissa – she’s the only woman for him?
Buy Links:
Amazon The Wild Rose Press Barnes & Noble
Blog Hop
Tweet me Pin me Friend me Read me Visit me
September 14, 2015
An Homage to Lizzy Bennett
It’s no secret Pride and Prejudice is my all time favorite romance novel. I’ve written ad nauseam about my love for it. Gone with The Wind comes close, but I always view that book more of a love tragedy than a triumph. One of the reasons P&P is so near and dear to my heart is its heroine, the feisty, intelligent, loyal Elizabeth Bennett. I put her right up there with Xena. Lizzy may not have been a warrior princess, defending land and country with a spear and a wicked drop kick, but she is certainly – in my humble opinion – a kick-ass romance chickita.
I recently read a very good piece titled 9 Reason’s we will always love Elizabeth Bennett. These include:
She never received a formal education, but made sure to educate herself.
She was confident and sure of herself, and even someone as imposing as Mr. Darcy couldn’t intimidate her.
She always put her family first
And would definitely have nothing to do with a man who dared to insult them.
She wouldn’t accept a partner for reasons less than love…
An ideal she stuck to, in spite of the fact that marrying Collins would have given her financial security, something no woman in her time could get on her own.
She understood the importance of kindness over money and a harp tongue
She never, ever took advantage of Mr. Darcy’s feelings for her
And she always, always spoke her mind.
To sum all that up, Lizzy didn’t take anyone’s crap, be it from the snivelingly Mr Collins, who could make her family’s future miserable, or from the snotty Lady Catherine de’Bourge, a high born woman of power and influence. She stayed true to herself as a woman and as a person, believed love conquered all, and that marriage should be for love and nothing else.
See? Kick-Ass romance chickita!
I recently read a very good piece titled 9 Reason’s we will always love Elizabeth Bennett. These include:
She never received a formal education, but made sure to educate herself.
She was confident and sure of herself, and even someone as imposing as Mr. Darcy couldn’t intimidate her.
She always put her family first
And would definitely have nothing to do with a man who dared to insult them.
She wouldn’t accept a partner for reasons less than love…
An ideal she stuck to, in spite of the fact that marrying Collins would have given her financial security, something no woman in her time could get on her own.
She understood the importance of kindness over money and a harp tongue
She never, ever took advantage of Mr. Darcy’s feelings for her
And she always, always spoke her mind.
To sum all that up, Lizzy didn’t take anyone’s crap, be it from the snivelingly Mr Collins, who could make her family’s future miserable, or from the snotty Lady Catherine de’Bourge, a high born woman of power and influence. She stayed true to herself as a woman and as a person, believed love conquered all, and that marriage should be for love and nothing else.
See? Kick-Ass romance chickita!
September 10, 2015
Where would you like to go?
As a writer, I can put my characters anywhere in the world I’d like to see them. I can take them to exotic tropical locales, heart-stopping mountainsides, even underwater to a coral reef. Of course, I can also leave them at home and just have them wish and pine to be taken elsewhere.Hawaii-maui
One of the underlying themes in all my books is that there really is – as Dorothy asserted – no place like home. We’re comfortable there; it’s familiar; for most of us, safe. Home is where that proverbial heart is and many characters never leave the comfy confines of the places they grew up in. Some of the best stories I’ve ever read concern characters who were born, lived and died in the same place. And they were happy. I love to write coming-home stories because I feel as Dorothy did. Surrounded by the people who love you best, homecoming stories have a special place in my heart.
But isn’t it kind of great to have wanderlust? To dream about being shipwrecked on a tropical island, or snowbound on a majestic mountainside? Of course, since I write romance stories, it would have to be the hero and heroine who are snowbound and shipwrecked, because, where’s the fun if it’s just one character? Unfamiliar territory brings with it all sorts of plot lines, character growth and development, and of course the ability to bring two people together who might never have met otherwise. Agatha Christie was famous for taking her characters and dropping them all over the world.
Let your imagination take you – and your characters – anywhere they want to go.
What if your H/H were running from a band of thieves in a Moroccan souk?
Or trying to escape from a group of militant terrorists in the African jungle?
You have the power to put your characters anywhere you want them to be, whether it’s in a small town in the middle of America or the largest city in the world. Like your kids, they go where you take them. And like your kids they complain, moan about almost everything, but ultimately come to the conclusion that the trip was worthwhile and fun.
So, where in the world have your characters gone? Let’s discuss….
***pictures don't translate well here. Visit my website blog for the visuals: http://peggyjaeger.com/2015/09/10/whe...
One of the underlying themes in all my books is that there really is – as Dorothy asserted – no place like home. We’re comfortable there; it’s familiar; for most of us, safe. Home is where that proverbial heart is and many characters never leave the comfy confines of the places they grew up in. Some of the best stories I’ve ever read concern characters who were born, lived and died in the same place. And they were happy. I love to write coming-home stories because I feel as Dorothy did. Surrounded by the people who love you best, homecoming stories have a special place in my heart.
But isn’t it kind of great to have wanderlust? To dream about being shipwrecked on a tropical island, or snowbound on a majestic mountainside? Of course, since I write romance stories, it would have to be the hero and heroine who are snowbound and shipwrecked, because, where’s the fun if it’s just one character? Unfamiliar territory brings with it all sorts of plot lines, character growth and development, and of course the ability to bring two people together who might never have met otherwise. Agatha Christie was famous for taking her characters and dropping them all over the world.
Let your imagination take you – and your characters – anywhere they want to go.
What if your H/H were running from a band of thieves in a Moroccan souk?
Or trying to escape from a group of militant terrorists in the African jungle?
You have the power to put your characters anywhere you want them to be, whether it’s in a small town in the middle of America or the largest city in the world. Like your kids, they go where you take them. And like your kids they complain, moan about almost everything, but ultimately come to the conclusion that the trip was worthwhile and fun.
So, where in the world have your characters gone? Let’s discuss….
***pictures don't translate well here. Visit my website blog for the visuals: http://peggyjaeger.com/2015/09/10/whe...
September 8, 2015
How Does your Heroine Smell?
A while back I did a blog titled How does your hero smell? It was a light-hearted, but serious-intended piece about using your sense of smell as writer. Today, the tables are being metaphorically turned onto your heroine. So, for lack of a better title, How does your heroine smell?
Girls are supposed to smell, well, like girls. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a female character referred to as smelling “manly” in a book…not in any I’ve read, anyway. But aside from describing to your reader how your protagonist smells like the inside of an exotic flowering hothouse, or dousing her in buckets of eau d’parfume, what sensory motivators can you use?
We’ve all heard the line sugar and spice and everything nice; that’s what little girls are made of. Well, what about big girls? I kind of think the same thing applies.
Let me ‘splain it you, Lucy.
What does sugar really smell like? Well, we know it tastes sweet, so that colors what our sense of smell tells us it’s like. What, aside from sugar, is sweet? A few things come to mind for me: chocolate, vanilla, cherries, apples. You get the idea. Maybe your heroine smells like warm vanilla pudding, or caramels melting over ripe apples. She sounds good enough to eat, right? And if she does to us, she does to the hero, too (don’t even go there! This is a G-rated blog).
So what spices come to mind when you hear the above saying? When I think of spices I think of tangy, potent ones like cinnamon and nutmeg, citrus and lemongrass. Stuff that I recognize when it hits my tastebuds. Spicy can also be hot, like peppers – although I’d rather name a character Pepper than describe her as smelling like one. Maybe it’s just me, but if I read a character described as smelling like a chili pepper, I’d first think she worked in a Mexican restaurant and I’d have an immediate vision of her that might not be anything like the author wanted. Although now that I think that through….hummmmm.
Back to smells.
The end of the saying tells us girls smell like everything nice. Well, what smells nice to you may not smell nice to me. For instance, I love the smell of coffee brewing, but wouldn’t want to go around smelling like an urn all day. There’s a commercial out right now for – I think, Honey Bunches of Oats – where the line worker goes shopping after working all day at the cereal plant and she says people around her sniff and say they smell cookies. She tells them, “nah, that’s me. I just came from work. You’re just smelling Honey Bunches of Oats.” Now, I don’t think I want to smell like cereal, but you certainly remember the commercial, and therefore the product, so somebody wrote something good there! What smells nice to you? Cotton sheets that have been line-dried smell nice; lemonaid smells nice. Lots of things do.
The lesson learned here is that men and women smell very differently and when we write sensory descriptions, we really need to keep sex ( read: Gender) in mind. I wouldn’t want to write my hero as smelling like a full blooming hothouse jasmine flower laced with sin, but I would describe my heroine that way. Only better, because that line is a little cheesy… and very poorly written. But you get the idea.
So, how do your heroines smell? Let’s discuss…
Girls are supposed to smell, well, like girls. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a female character referred to as smelling “manly” in a book…not in any I’ve read, anyway. But aside from describing to your reader how your protagonist smells like the inside of an exotic flowering hothouse, or dousing her in buckets of eau d’parfume, what sensory motivators can you use?
We’ve all heard the line sugar and spice and everything nice; that’s what little girls are made of. Well, what about big girls? I kind of think the same thing applies.
Let me ‘splain it you, Lucy.
What does sugar really smell like? Well, we know it tastes sweet, so that colors what our sense of smell tells us it’s like. What, aside from sugar, is sweet? A few things come to mind for me: chocolate, vanilla, cherries, apples. You get the idea. Maybe your heroine smells like warm vanilla pudding, or caramels melting over ripe apples. She sounds good enough to eat, right? And if she does to us, she does to the hero, too (don’t even go there! This is a G-rated blog).
So what spices come to mind when you hear the above saying? When I think of spices I think of tangy, potent ones like cinnamon and nutmeg, citrus and lemongrass. Stuff that I recognize when it hits my tastebuds. Spicy can also be hot, like peppers – although I’d rather name a character Pepper than describe her as smelling like one. Maybe it’s just me, but if I read a character described as smelling like a chili pepper, I’d first think she worked in a Mexican restaurant and I’d have an immediate vision of her that might not be anything like the author wanted. Although now that I think that through….hummmmm.
Back to smells.
The end of the saying tells us girls smell like everything nice. Well, what smells nice to you may not smell nice to me. For instance, I love the smell of coffee brewing, but wouldn’t want to go around smelling like an urn all day. There’s a commercial out right now for – I think, Honey Bunches of Oats – where the line worker goes shopping after working all day at the cereal plant and she says people around her sniff and say they smell cookies. She tells them, “nah, that’s me. I just came from work. You’re just smelling Honey Bunches of Oats.” Now, I don’t think I want to smell like cereal, but you certainly remember the commercial, and therefore the product, so somebody wrote something good there! What smells nice to you? Cotton sheets that have been line-dried smell nice; lemonaid smells nice. Lots of things do.
The lesson learned here is that men and women smell very differently and when we write sensory descriptions, we really need to keep sex ( read: Gender) in mind. I wouldn’t want to write my hero as smelling like a full blooming hothouse jasmine flower laced with sin, but I would describe my heroine that way. Only better, because that line is a little cheesy… and very poorly written. But you get the idea.
So, how do your heroines smell? Let’s discuss…
September 3, 2015
Impulse Control issues...my fact of life
I love lists and top 10 lists – like Letterman’s – are my favorites. Here are the things my impulse control issues could have done without giving a voice to:
That’s not really your natural hair color, is it?
You can’t raise someone else’s kids, but someone should volunteer to raise yours.
Nosey, much?
When was the actual last time you washed your hair?
That color does nothing for you sallow complexion.
Oh yeah… a diet that includes French fries and beer and you can’t figure out why you can’t lose weight? Really?
Stupid, much?
The last time I looked, stupid and ignorant weren’t things to be proud of.
Did I just say that out loud? Shit.
….and the absolute worst thing I ever said to someone: You went to an actual school to learn how to do that? Really? They pay someone to teach that?
I’ll leave it to your imaginations to figure out what I was referring to. ( LOL)
Ever say something you wish you’d said in a nicer, better way? Let’s discuss….
That’s not really your natural hair color, is it?
You can’t raise someone else’s kids, but someone should volunteer to raise yours.
Nosey, much?
When was the actual last time you washed your hair?
That color does nothing for you sallow complexion.
Oh yeah… a diet that includes French fries and beer and you can’t figure out why you can’t lose weight? Really?
Stupid, much?
The last time I looked, stupid and ignorant weren’t things to be proud of.
Did I just say that out loud? Shit.
….and the absolute worst thing I ever said to someone: You went to an actual school to learn how to do that? Really? They pay someone to teach that?
I’ll leave it to your imaginations to figure out what I was referring to. ( LOL)
Ever say something you wish you’d said in a nicer, better way? Let’s discuss….
September 1, 2015
Reflecting...
Reflecting…
Yesterday was the 18th anniversary of the shocking death of Princess Diana. It’s so hard to believe it’s been that many years.
In 1997 I was 37, my daughter was 8. When the news broke, I’ll admit it, I lost it. Completely. I came apart so emotionally that day, I scared my daughter. She’d never had someone die in her life up to that time and was unprepared for how I took it, how it effected a person.
There’s a lot about that day, and the next week until her burial, that I’ll never forget. I sat glued to my living room chair, watching the news 24/7. It was the lead story everywhere, every station, every channel whether it was cable or broadcast tv. What I remember most was the shock, the jaw dropping shock, the looks of utter befuddlement, that crossed anyone and everyone who was interviewed. No one could have predicted the loss of such an amazing, vital, beautiful person at such a young age from such a stupid event as a drunken driver.
One of the news broadcasters asked if we’d be as shocked and horrified as a people if she’d died from an illness, or been assassinated by a terrorist group. Why was it her death at the hands of someone not in control that was so hard to believe? The amount of grief running through the world from her death was incalculable. I thought it was a stupid question at the time and still do. We’d have been shocked at any way in which she’d be taken from us.
Diana was one year younger than I was. I, like one hundred million people worldwide, watched her get married. I celebrated the true romantic fairytale-come-to-life that we were led to believe was real. I celebrated the birth of her sons with her, and then mourned the death of her marriage, because a fairy tale doesn’t really end at “they lived happily ever after.”
Diana was my age-peer, but we had so much more in common than just our chronological age. We both suffered from very public eating disorders, exacerbated by stress and loneliness; both felt the ravishes of being from divorced parents; both wanted to be people pleasers so we’d know our value in the world. Sure, she married a prince and I married an ophthalmologist, but even though she was considered a Royal, the world – myself included – considered her one of us. No other Royal to date has been able to garnish the love from the common man that Diana did.
A short week later, on September 5, 1997, Mother Teresa died and I remember my daughter asked me why two such beloved women had to die at the same time. I had no wisdom for her, only what my heart told me: God must have needed them in Heaven really badly for him to take them both from us.
The world has changed dramatically since August 31, 1997. For a very brief time we were given the gift of having Diana in it. All she ever wanted was to be the Queen of People’s Hearts. It’s too bad she had to leave us before she knew she was…..
diana-princess-of-wales
Yesterday was the 18th anniversary of the shocking death of Princess Diana. It’s so hard to believe it’s been that many years.
In 1997 I was 37, my daughter was 8. When the news broke, I’ll admit it, I lost it. Completely. I came apart so emotionally that day, I scared my daughter. She’d never had someone die in her life up to that time and was unprepared for how I took it, how it effected a person.
There’s a lot about that day, and the next week until her burial, that I’ll never forget. I sat glued to my living room chair, watching the news 24/7. It was the lead story everywhere, every station, every channel whether it was cable or broadcast tv. What I remember most was the shock, the jaw dropping shock, the looks of utter befuddlement, that crossed anyone and everyone who was interviewed. No one could have predicted the loss of such an amazing, vital, beautiful person at such a young age from such a stupid event as a drunken driver.
One of the news broadcasters asked if we’d be as shocked and horrified as a people if she’d died from an illness, or been assassinated by a terrorist group. Why was it her death at the hands of someone not in control that was so hard to believe? The amount of grief running through the world from her death was incalculable. I thought it was a stupid question at the time and still do. We’d have been shocked at any way in which she’d be taken from us.
Diana was one year younger than I was. I, like one hundred million people worldwide, watched her get married. I celebrated the true romantic fairytale-come-to-life that we were led to believe was real. I celebrated the birth of her sons with her, and then mourned the death of her marriage, because a fairy tale doesn’t really end at “they lived happily ever after.”
Diana was my age-peer, but we had so much more in common than just our chronological age. We both suffered from very public eating disorders, exacerbated by stress and loneliness; both felt the ravishes of being from divorced parents; both wanted to be people pleasers so we’d know our value in the world. Sure, she married a prince and I married an ophthalmologist, but even though she was considered a Royal, the world – myself included – considered her one of us. No other Royal to date has been able to garnish the love from the common man that Diana did.
A short week later, on September 5, 1997, Mother Teresa died and I remember my daughter asked me why two such beloved women had to die at the same time. I had no wisdom for her, only what my heart told me: God must have needed them in Heaven really badly for him to take them both from us.
The world has changed dramatically since August 31, 1997. For a very brief time we were given the gift of having Diana in it. All she ever wanted was to be the Queen of People’s Hearts. It’s too bad she had to leave us before she knew she was…..
diana-princess-of-wales
August 30, 2015
August 29, 2015
My Sexy Saturday
Well, it's Saturday once again and that means a listing on the My Sexy Saturday blog hop. Here's a sexy scene from my two new peeps in FIRST IMPRESSIONS due out on 9/23 but available for preorder now. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it...
“Pat?”
He didn’t answer, but continued to hold her prisoner, gaze, body and soul. She couldn’t take a full breath, didn’t dare to, afraid she’d break the spell he’d woven around them, afraid she’d lose the thin thread of control she clutched to prevent herself from jumping on him and eating him alive.
“Clarissa,” he whispered, his nose nuzzling along the outer edge of her jaw.
“Y-yes?”
His lips skimmed her throat, trailing lazily along the column of her blouse. He placed an open-mouthed, wet kiss along the skin beneath her ear, and she finally let out the breath she’d been holding, fearful she would faint dead away if she didn’t.
“I smell turkey,” he said softly, and took her ear lobe into his mouth.
As he gently sucked on it, Clarissa felt a punch of lust straight through her midsection. “Wh-what?”
She gasped when his tongue slid against her throat. “And biscuits.”
“Biscuits?” Confusion vied with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
“Mmmm. Turkey and biscuits.” He licked her collarbone and then sucked at the skin covering it.
“Oh, sweet Jesus.”
With a smile dancing on his lips, he pulled back and looked at her face. “Clarissa, I’m starving.” She blinked a few times. “You wouldn’t, by any chance, want to share your dinner with me, would you? Friend.” The cloud of erotic sensations he’d spun around her finally started to disperse. His stomach growled again, and even the kitten heard it this time because she startled and dug her nails into Clarissa’s arm.
“Pat?”
He didn’t answer, but continued to hold her prisoner, gaze, body and soul. She couldn’t take a full breath, didn’t dare to, afraid she’d break the spell he’d woven around them, afraid she’d lose the thin thread of control she clutched to prevent herself from jumping on him and eating him alive.
“Clarissa,” he whispered, his nose nuzzling along the outer edge of her jaw.
“Y-yes?”
His lips skimmed her throat, trailing lazily along the column of her blouse. He placed an open-mouthed, wet kiss along the skin beneath her ear, and she finally let out the breath she’d been holding, fearful she would faint dead away if she didn’t.
“I smell turkey,” he said softly, and took her ear lobe into his mouth.
As he gently sucked on it, Clarissa felt a punch of lust straight through her midsection. “Wh-what?”
She gasped when his tongue slid against her throat. “And biscuits.”
“Biscuits?” Confusion vied with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
“Mmmm. Turkey and biscuits.” He licked her collarbone and then sucked at the skin covering it.
“Oh, sweet Jesus.”
With a smile dancing on his lips, he pulled back and looked at her face. “Clarissa, I’m starving.” She blinked a few times. “You wouldn’t, by any chance, want to share your dinner with me, would you? Friend.” The cloud of erotic sensations he’d spun around her finally started to disperse. His stomach growled again, and even the kitten heard it this time because she startled and dug her nails into Clarissa’s arm.
August 26, 2015
I'm not a good waiter
No, I’m not talking about serving you dinner or drinks. I mean I’m not good at waiting for things to happen, people to get back to me, emails to be answered.
I guess I could have titled this piece I’m Impatient and it would have meant the same thing.
I’ve always been impatient, even as a child. I was that kid in the cartoon tootsie roll commercial with the Owl – remember? Only I was the owl. “How many licks does it take to get the middle of a tootsie pop? one..two..three.crunch.” That was me. There was no way I was waiting to lick the pop down before tasting the chocolatey tootsie center.
I’m that adult that hits the elevator button 30 times just in case it forgets to stop at my floor.
The minute I sit down in a restaurant I expect the serve staff to be jonny-on-the-spot with a drink order and menu in hand. Those 9 months of pregnancy? Yeah, not happening again. I could only handle the long wait once, hence the only child. Good thing I’m not an elephant.
I’m that person in the 10 items only checkout line who has 9 items and will chastise the person in front of her who has 12.
I hate waiting for people to get to the point – ergo my rude habit of finishing other people’s sentences. It’s a good thing I didn’t go into politics. Or Public Relations. I’d be a nightmare to work with. Who am I kidding?? I’d be fired from any job that required me to be subtle and play the waiting game.
I haven’t called someone on a phone in years. Know why? When you call someone, 9 times out of 10 you need to leave them a message because they’re too busy to pick up. Know what I do instead? Text. Why, you ask? Because people respond to texts IMMEDIATELY!!! I never, ever wait for a text response because I don’t have to. They are always, always answered as soon as they are received.
Love that. LOVE THAT!
I know: obnoxious, right? To the max. That’s me.
As a writer, I have to wait all the time. I wait for query responses from editors and agents; I wait for contracts, first and last edits; galleys; advance checks. I wait anxiously for release dates and the second I know them I start publicizing them. Pre-orders are my life’s-blood. Writing is a waiting game and the road to publication is psychologically tortuous for someone like me who has zero patience tolerance.
I must remember to ask my mother one of these days about my toilet training. Seems that might be where all this started…..hmmmmm.
So, are you a good waiter or a bad one like me? Let’s discuss…….
I guess I could have titled this piece I’m Impatient and it would have meant the same thing.
I’ve always been impatient, even as a child. I was that kid in the cartoon tootsie roll commercial with the Owl – remember? Only I was the owl. “How many licks does it take to get the middle of a tootsie pop? one..two..three.crunch.” That was me. There was no way I was waiting to lick the pop down before tasting the chocolatey tootsie center.
I’m that adult that hits the elevator button 30 times just in case it forgets to stop at my floor.
The minute I sit down in a restaurant I expect the serve staff to be jonny-on-the-spot with a drink order and menu in hand. Those 9 months of pregnancy? Yeah, not happening again. I could only handle the long wait once, hence the only child. Good thing I’m not an elephant.
I’m that person in the 10 items only checkout line who has 9 items and will chastise the person in front of her who has 12.
I hate waiting for people to get to the point – ergo my rude habit of finishing other people’s sentences. It’s a good thing I didn’t go into politics. Or Public Relations. I’d be a nightmare to work with. Who am I kidding?? I’d be fired from any job that required me to be subtle and play the waiting game.
I haven’t called someone on a phone in years. Know why? When you call someone, 9 times out of 10 you need to leave them a message because they’re too busy to pick up. Know what I do instead? Text. Why, you ask? Because people respond to texts IMMEDIATELY!!! I never, ever wait for a text response because I don’t have to. They are always, always answered as soon as they are received.
Love that. LOVE THAT!
I know: obnoxious, right? To the max. That’s me.
As a writer, I have to wait all the time. I wait for query responses from editors and agents; I wait for contracts, first and last edits; galleys; advance checks. I wait anxiously for release dates and the second I know them I start publicizing them. Pre-orders are my life’s-blood. Writing is a waiting game and the road to publication is psychologically tortuous for someone like me who has zero patience tolerance.
I must remember to ask my mother one of these days about my toilet training. Seems that might be where all this started…..hmmmmm.
So, are you a good waiter or a bad one like me? Let’s discuss…….
August 25, 2015
10 MORE things I believe
Yesterday’s blog was fun to write, and after I posted it I realized I had more things I believe. Here they are:
Pizza should be included in the FOOD PYRAMID as an actual category.
I will always remember to do something AFTER it was time for me to remember it! Or in other words, too late.
Every child deserves the right to love, shelter, food and a future. Every child. Every child.
I’m a grown-up and if I want to have dessert first, I can and will.
When someone is speaking smack, they need to be shut down. Immediately.
Do a good deed just because…not because you want someone to recognize that you did it.
There’s never a punishment for the truth.
There is always a punishment for a lie.
If you make a vow – you stick to it. Same goes for a promise.
A smile and a gentle touch go a very long way to making someone feel better.
What about you? What do you believe? Let’s discuss…..
Pizza should be included in the FOOD PYRAMID as an actual category.
I will always remember to do something AFTER it was time for me to remember it! Or in other words, too late.
Every child deserves the right to love, shelter, food and a future. Every child. Every child.
I’m a grown-up and if I want to have dessert first, I can and will.
When someone is speaking smack, they need to be shut down. Immediately.
Do a good deed just because…not because you want someone to recognize that you did it.
There’s never a punishment for the truth.
There is always a punishment for a lie.
If you make a vow – you stick to it. Same goes for a promise.
A smile and a gentle touch go a very long way to making someone feel better.
What about you? What do you believe? Let’s discuss…..
