Amy Lane's Blog: Writer's Lane, page 140

Fucking Dragons

A note or two about this post.

See, the incident happened last night, as we were driving back from San Diego--and I thought it was hilarious, of course, there may have been extenuating circumstances, but we'll get to that.

So anyway, I was lying in my own bed, (yay!) and the dog was licking his balls, and it was keeping me awake.  Both the dog and the ball licking-- so there I was, lying in bed like this: 0.0, thinking about how I have to leave again in two days time, and the dog is never going to forgive me.  Not only that, but thinking that I have to, among other things too numerous to mention, go get the dog flea treatment because I don't think he started out licking his balls, if you know what I mean.

So I decide to get up and write this story-- maybe, I get some writing out of my system, and I'll be able to go back to sleep.  But I want a picture for it, right?

And, for reasons--again-- you'll see shortly, I decide to google "vibrating eyeballs".  For the record, don't ever do that.

Ever.

Because apparently if you have your filters off, vibrating anything can only lead to porn.  Serious, hardcore porn.

I was not aware, and that's saying something.

So, okay, wasn't thinking about sex but now I am and unfortunately not the hot kind or even the healthy kind, because HELLO internet, but now I still need that picture.

So I google "eyeballs."  For the record?  Don't ever do that.

EVER.

So now, I'm like THIS:

((O.O))And I still haven't told my story. 
And I'm definitely not ready to go back to sleep.  So I find the picture of the cat tripping on LSD because it's one of my favorites and very appropriate, and now, faintly traumatized, I'm ready to tell my story!
So, did ya wanna hear the story?  
Okay-- so here's the story:
So, you know those MiO drink supplements?  (And, for the record, if you're going to google "MiO" make sure you spell it right.  There's apparently a Japanese porn star named Miyo.  She, uhm, does things.  Many, many things.) 
Anyway, so, on the way back from San Diego, it was my turn to drive.  Mate usually does all the driving, and I was a little sleepy-- long trip--so I was like, "I'm gonna need sugar and energy, yo!"  So, the MiO energy booster stuff, we had it.  I added lots of it to 2 liters of water.  And then another 16 oz bottle.  
And about an hour and a half later, I had to pee. 
I realized I had a slight… wobble to my extremities as I ran to the bathroom and back to the car.  A rather excited wobble, as though I had not done nearly enough jumping jacks and laps around the Chevron station in the past hour or so, and I had to get right on that.
"Mate," I said, pulling out of the pitstop to the left of middle of nowhere and back onto I-5, which is the middle of nowhere, "Exactly what was in that energy booster I just drank copious amounts of?"
He looked at the label.  "Uhm, potassium, ginseng, some B complex vitamins--"
"And that's it?"
"And caffeine.  Loads and frickin' loads of caffeine!  Why?  Are your eyeballs vibrating?"
"I can see sound!" I crowed manically.  I giggled too.  Probably not reassuring in your driver, now that I think of it.  
"It's got 60 ml caffeine per serving-- you must have had about ten servings in all that water!"
"WHHEEEEEEOOOOOOOOWWWWW!!!!  Get outta my way people, mama's gotta pee again!"
"It says energy booster-- what did you think was in it?"
"I had money down with myself that it was at least three parts cocaine!"
"Let me know when the crash hits--I'm gonna wanna drive."
"Oh yeah.  Will definitely do that."
And, sure enough, when the crash hit-- at a Carl's Jr. in Patterson--I practically face-planted in my fish tacos.  
But in the meantime, man what a ride!
So, now you see why I wanted the vibrating eyeballs.  *sigh*  It would be so much less traumatic if the internet could read my mind!

Captionary

Okay all--it's been a busy few days.  I've tried to blog, but, well, I'm trying out the little tablet computer--and I have to say, as a workhorse, it sort of fails, although it is portable as hell. Anyway-- between Balboa Park and the San Diego Zoo and a day spent just getting lunch and yarn and swimming in the resort pool (and that last one seems to be what the kids think we came for!) I have some pictures, and some snarky captions to share.  Now, for those of you who follow me on Twitter, you may recognize the snarky captions.  But some of them are missing, and I'm tired and the internet is being stubborn, so I'm going to blame the tablet thingy whether it's the tablet thingy's fault or not.  But while I'm cursing the tablet thingy's shortcomings, here's some pictures of my week:-)  Yeah, I look like a sleepy hippopotamus, but remember the last zoo?  I am BAD ASS.
The ass of a chillaxing polar bear.  Carry on, puny ozone destroyers, carry the fuck on.
Seriously, seven hours at the zoo?  Where's the frickin' POOL?
  Post-coital bonobos. Because Goddess was merciful and we caught them 10 minutes after the great bonobo orgy.




Have you ever waited for a lunar eclipse while watching Singing in the Rain?  Well, now I have too. If you think he looks surprised, wait until you see his sister.
And if you think her brother looked scary behind the controls of the helicopter, watch the hell out, cause she's gonna fuckin' kill us all. Mom, this is the expression chimpanzees make when they're happy.
Folks, these are the pictures I pull out when he's driving me bugshit.
She looks so thoughtful, doesn't she?  It's amazing the depths that Judy Moody will give you. How much wood could a wood duck fuck if a wood duck could fuck wood.
Fucking worship me, puny humans!  Bow before my greatness, or I shall stand in front of your tour bus and preen in the chrome bumper, forcing the security guard to venture forth in greatest indignity and shoo me with great weaving of arms! Chicken has found her spirit animal.  He is the sun bear.  He naps in the sun.
Let me out, you assholes, let me ouuuuuutttttt!!!  I picked the best souvenir from the air/space museum EVERY
 Monkeys, meet gorillas.  Yeah, there's a resemblance.

 Pretty Birdie want your fingers?  Oh, yes he does!
Okapi.  Cause they're frickin' COOL!

 I am one of a zillion birds.  What makes me special?  I POSE!




And phew!

Yes-- it's a lot.  It's so much, in fact, that although I have moar pictures to go, my baby computer is having a tantrum and not dealing with them.

That's okay. 

We go home tomorrow, and then I leave again on Monday.  More blogfodder (and, well, Easter shall provide even MOAR) is always a good thing :-)

Songs from San Diego

Okay-- honestly, I was just thinking there are none.  Songs, that is.  But we are having some adventures, and that's always awesome.

We got in last night, after Mate did most of the driving (and I did a considerable amount of knitting) and a drop at Pea Soup Andersen's.  Now I'll be honest-- there really is only one thing to eat there: the pea soup.  Which makes it really puzzling that Zoomboy wanted to stop there AGAIN. But Mate and I enjoyed our soup, and, well, we ate ZB's untouched cheese quesadilla because we felt bad about the two times he'd sent it back.  It was Squish who noticed something, uhm, different about the rest of the clientele: "Mom--they're all old people!".

And, yes, it has become like The Nut Tree used to be-- older people who remembered the place from their childhood make it a stop between Nor Cali and SoCal. So really, unless you're there for the soup and the tchotchkes, there's no other reason to stop.  Except, well... you know.  The picture and the memories.

And today, we picked up Chicken and went to the sea.  (Where she could be Chicken of the Sea!  Heeeeeeeeee!).

We didn't spend long there-- just until ZB and Squish got cold.  Took about an hour. Then Chicken took us to Beef & Buns (where Rhys Ford had taken her) and we really loved it.  Parmesan tempura fried zucchini.  Saying.  Anyway-- we might possibly have made it to see a movie but for two things.

The first thing was that I smacked Mate's head with the Minivan hatch.  Yeah.  No shit.  Weenie move on my part-- he ducked his head in when I reached up to slam the hatch down, and, bam.  Anyway-- sometimes a big ouchie, no matter how impermanent, will make you remember things like an eleven hour trip behind the wheel the day before.  That, and Chicken actually had to do homework.  We decided lunch and grocery shopping and a trip to the beach pretty much wrapped up our ambition for the day-- we came home and napped.  Which was sort of luxurious, really.  Napping.  I mean, I'm a fan.

Anyway-- Chicken's friend Stevie is watching the animals-- she told me that the Chiwhowhat probably got a walk today with his little friend (her own dog, Gibby).  I'm happy to hear that-- it would me my little guy is having as much fun as we are :-)

Help me Internet, you're my only hope!

So, in what is amounting to a curious scheduling clusterfuck, Mate has put a family vacation right in front of Dreamspinner's conference in Portland, and then has managed to schedule all sorts of things for him right in front of it.

Which means the last two weeks-- Squish's birthday, Chicken's visit, laundry, the house sitter, the car maintenance, the children, have all been pretty much on mom.

There would have been a time when this sort of snafu would have sent me screaming for the yarn store, but I've matured since then.

I bought shoes online instead, and had them rush delivered.  If you want to see true pornography, check my house tomorrow, when I'm slobbering over a pair of orthotic walking clogs and some flip-flops with the soles of heaven.  It won't be for the faint of heart.

Anyway, less than a week after Squish's b-day, we're leaving the house in the house sitter's capable hands (and she knows our animals, so that's nice!) and taking off for San Diego.  Where we will do somewhere between diddly and squat. I think Mate's entire focus is on a vacation where we sleep, visit the ocean, and lounge about.  We may visit the zoo.  I am a little at a loss-- who is this Mate, and what are his inner motivations?  However, since I am actually going to need to work-- I have a deadline barreling down on me like a shotgun shell--I think it sounds like a perfect compromise.  Yes, I shall be working, but I shall be working someplace after swimming in the ocean all day and eating stuff I didn't cook.  Excellent idea for a working vacation-- if I can watch the kids have fun from a warm spot on the sand, I'm in.

And as for Squish's birthday-- well, she had a lovely time.  One of the best parts, for me, was that her two big presents were an electronic game and a Hello Kitty doll.  And that she and her friends, after the novelty of the dance game on TV faded, and the electronic game went away, stayed up past midnight with dollhouses and dolls and played their little hearts out.

Because some things should never change, and 8 year old girls and dolls are one of them.  (Boys too-- yes, they're CALLED action figures and Legos, but we all know the truth-- creative play is creative play, and when it's done right, it's completely universal.)

And Zoomboy-- who is in dire trouble for State report related reasons--made us love him in spite of his delinquency by tying his jacket on as a toga and making the girls call him "Dobby".  Now see, on the one hand, that's a little creepy, but since he was fetching their water and juice and helping them dispose of their paper plates all night, I'm gonna give it a go from "creepy" to "sweet".  Cause, yanno, Dobby.

But our family is not as gregarious as some, and I have to admit, after the people went away, we were pretty happy.  We had a mostly clean house to ourselves again, and our relief knew no bounds.  The animals may appear to be the most tuckered, but don't be fooled-- Mate was vastly relieved to have all those strange people out of our house.

And then, of course, Mate went MIA immediately afterwards with a series of obligations and previously scheduled moments, and I've been typing by myself ever since.  I could be bitter, but since my next business trip is going to be made longer on purpose by a road trip (instead of a flight) and a trip to an alpaca farm with my knitting peeps, I figure I can cut him some slack.  If I can manage to finish my story and go on vacation, I'll be a happy girl, really, because a trip to the beach with my family and to Portland with my peeps?  I am spoiled indeed!

But first I have to scale the mountain of laundry, find the cat box (hidden during the party!) and go shopping for Easter (important because Zoomboy has no clothes that do not fit him like he's clubbing.)  And then I have to tell Zoomboy that no he can't read until he does his homework.  And remember that it was those words and those words alone that made me want to run away when I was ten.

And, yanno, somewhere in there research WWII, the Liberator pistol (which is just the stupidest thing I've ever heard of-- the OSS air dropped one-shot pistols into France because WHY?) and what life was like for the returning veteran in 1947.  (I suspect it was a shade less as sucktastic as it is for returning veterans now, because congress was slightly less of an ass-pickling jar of dead flies back then and actually took care of their veterans--but I digress.)  Oh-- and prepare for RT, because right now, about all I've done is order swag and cut some pictures out of magazines for my panel with Cassandra Carr, Marie Sexton, Tara Lain, and Z.A. Maxfield. Okay… I've thought about what to wear too… that's always important.  (Yes and no.  I think I'm going to have to seriously cut down on my idea of the man's T-shirt with the spiffy saying as a wardrobe staple.  Yeah, I know-- it's depressing for me too.)

And even before the laundry, I have to go Easter shopping, for serious and important chocolate bunny reasons.  And maybe nap a little cause I think I'm repeating myself.  And definitely meet Mate for lunch, because sushi.  And revel in the fact that it only took two trips to the car service and hours out of two days to make my car not frightening for the big trek across the central California desert.  And oh crap finish the baby blanket I want to have with me when I go to Portland the week after next!

And, well, apparently business as usual here-- and if the aliens aren't going to take me away, it looks like it's up to me.

Ciaou!

*kermit flail Monday* New Releases for April

Hey all!

We've got some new and unique offerings for first Monday of the month-- some authors I haven't read, and an author that I have *blush* have!  I love that people are jumping on the bandwagon for this feature here-- and I love that I'm not just featuring romance.  Last month I was featuring a bio by Gini Koch, and this month I've got some raunchy and raw erotica-- so, you know, variety!

This week also features a new writer who also knits, as well as two anthologies.  With the two anthologies, since Grand Adventures has been so successful, I think the idea is really sort of awesome!  (I always loved anthologies myself-- it's the ADHD-- little baby fics satisfy my buzzing brain.)

 And, well, this week features my own releases, which, granted, are on May 2nd, but since the first Monday in May isn't until the 5th, and it IS my own blog, well, I'm claiming privilege.

So there's my intro, let's get to the good stuff!

This first one is notable not just because it's sci-fi, but for the lovely cover-- I'm seriously a fan.  The stories sound amazing, too!


Not in the Stars by Angel Martinez et. al

Toni Griffin, Mathilde Watson, Freddy MacKay, Angel Martinez, and edited by Erika O Williams.

Since the dawn of human expression, man has gazed up at the heavens in wonder, inspired by the wheeling of the stars to explain his surroundings. While our perception of those surroundings have changed, from thinking of the Earth as a flat, stable plane to realizing we’re falling through space in a tiny atmospheric bubble, our wonder remains constant. 

Space stations, alien races, far-flung planets—join the Mischief Corner authors as they explore the possibilities the stars might offer. The catch? Returning to mundane old Earth might be harder than you think. 

Buy right here:  Not in the Stars




Okay-- I adore Shae, and we spent some lovely time in Atlanta being silly together, and I also have a fair amount of girlie love for J.p., Ally, Eden, and Kiernan-- I love them all!  So besides the hilarious title (and dudes) and the campy cover, there's also the fact that I know know these writers and expect the awesomeness to be never-ending!

Butt Ninjas from Hell

They move like shadows through the night... when they aren't tripping over the furniture. Porn stars, holy emissaries, demons, and even just plain humans—ninjas come in all forms and from all kinds of Hell in this erotically charged comedic Wilde City anthology. Whether it’s the world of second-rate television, fluttering ninja stars, obsessions over a bronzy-olive toned soldier, or magic backsides, your authorial guides will take you where few readers have ever dared to go… without protection.
Butt Ninjas from Hell: You’ll Never Hear Them Coming!
Featuring…
Clean Up on Aisle Me! by Shae ConnorSheathing His Sword by JP BarnabyTwink Ninja Tiger, Flaxen Buns Of Fury by Kage AlanTwerk It by Ally BlueHell Is Where The Heart Is by Eden WintersNinja, Vanish! by Kiernan KellyThe Soldier And The Vagabond by Jevocas GreenA Ninja Walks Into A Bar by T.C. Blue
Release date: April 16, 2014
Buy Here
Okay, so this next offering isn't my usual, but it was, I'll admit, a porntastic, cartoon-oriented raunch-fest.  And, well, sometimes we need those in our book collection, for, uhm, raunch related reasons!  Porny fun-- just what the title says, handsome older men and eager young college boys. Enjoy!
Make Me Watch
This special DOUBLE FEATURE edition contains Episodes #1 and #2 of MAKE ME WATCH: THE McINTYRE MEN for only a dollar more than the price of each individual episode. That's 23,000 words of scorching action featuring handsome older men and eager young college boys. 

#1 Bobby's Plan 

Henry Ruiz loves living down the street from a university campus. There's a non-stop parade of gorgeous young men in and out of the former Marine's garage apartment, eager for the kind of off-campus lessons only a handsome older man can provide. But when fraternity boy Bobby McIntyre comes to Henry with a devious plan, everything changes. Bobby wants to make his handsome, uptight boyfriend a little less controlling, and he needs Henry's seductive powers to do it. There's just one problem. Bobby is the son of Henry's closest friend in the world. And his plan is anything but orthodox. 

Will Henry give into temptation? Will Bobby's plan even work? 

#2, Campus Security 

Fraternity boy Bobby McIntyre's plot to make his handsome, uptight boyfriend a little more submissive didn't go according to plan. And now his manipulations have left him at the mercy of two campus security officers with a burning desire to peer inside the walls of Bobby's fraternity…literally. But Bobby McIntyre is nothing if not resourceful and there's nothing he knows how to do more than make an older man happy. Picking up exactly where Episode #1 left off, Episode #2 is told entirely from Bobby's point-of-view. 

WARNING: Contains 8 sizzling scenes of handsome older men and seductive young college boys, spiced with taboo themes and plenty of voyeurism. 

BUY HERE
Okay, knitters?  Anyta is newly initiated into our numbers-- remember that.  She's a knitter.  She's kin.  She's also funny, kind, and lovely on e-mail, and I've enjoyed our conversations very much.  I bought this one for my Kindle and it's waiting for a quiet moment.  I'm so excited! 

Liam Davis and the Raven by Anyta Sunday
Liam Davis is a serious journalist, and he’s good at it.

Or at least, he was. Until the chief of Scribe, the campus magazine, makes him give up his politics column to write for the party page—the party page that is problematic for two reasons: One, it threatens Liam’s chance of getting the traineeship with his apathetic father at his prestigious newspaper company, and two, he has no idea what it means to party, let alone how to capture this new audience’s attention!

But Liam Davis is no quitter. He’s determined to prove to his father, the chief, and above all himself that he can do it—and do itwell.

Life doesn’t make it easy. Not when Freddy Krueger comes stalking out of the shadows to attack him. Luckily the Raven, the campus vigilante—the vigilante getting hate mail sent to Scribe’s opinions page—comes to his rescue.

Now, between finding the perfect angle for his party page columns and making friends (and perhaps something more?), Liam needs to find this mysterious Raven—not only to thank him, but to warn him to watch his back.
BY HERE

And then, from me, we've got a few offerings.  
The first is the Italian translation of A Solid Core of Alpha, as well as the Spanish translation of Clear Water.  We also have the audio book version of Chase in Shadow, which, all in all, is sort of damned cool!
We also have, for the first time in paperback, the Granby knitting novellas all together in The Granby Knitting Menagerie, which is sort of awesome.  (The cover… omg!  Guys!  The cover!)  And, of course, the huge topper on the release sunday is Jeremy and Aiden's (from The Granby Knitting Menagerie: How to Raise an Honest Rabbit) full length book, Blackbird Knitting in a Bunny's Lair.  I've heard a lot of feedback about how Jeremy Bunny has captured and broken hearts.  This book is where he gets to mend them.  And where the fate of the floor safe is finally decided-- because I know you were all curious. 
So here we go--
The Granby Knitting Menagerie 

by Amy Lane
Welcome to Granby, Colorado, a small town at the foot of the Rocky Mountains where it snows eight months out of the year and knitting is a mashup of art form, necessity, and religion. Here you will meet: 

* Rance “Craw” Crawford, owner of the local alpaca farm and fiber mill, who courts tenderfoot Ben McCutcheon with awkwardness and the most lovingly handcrafted knitted garments known to man. 

* Jeremy Stillson, ex-con and ex-grifter, who comes to work for Craw and learns the secrets to being honest are in both the yarn he learns to use and in Aiden Rhodes, his young co-worker, who has a very direct way of dealing with life and seducing Jeremy. 

* Stanley Schulz, yarn buyer and Craw’s ex-lover, who discovers the joys of knitting alone—and then discovers the joys of knitting for Johnny, a delivery driver with a shady past. Join this menagerie of knitters as they craft to keep their toes toasty and their hearts warm. 

Novellas in this anthology originally published as eBooks by Dreamspinner Press.
Buy HERE
And, if you're already read all the stories in The Granby Knitting Menagerie, (and, even if you haven't) then you're probably ready for the next one.  I really loved writing this-- going back to visit Jeremy and Aiden was lovely, and like I said-- the floor safe!
Blackbird Knitting in a Bunny's Lair
Sequel to Knitter in His Natural Habitat
A Granby Knitting Novel 

After three years of waiting for “rabbit” Jeremy to commit to a life in Granby—and a life together—Aiden Rhodes was appalled when Jeremy sustained a nearly fatal beating to keep a friend out of harm's way. How could Aiden’s bunny put himself in danger like that? 

Aiden needs to get over himself, because Jeremy has a long road to recovery, and he's going to need Aiden's promise of love every step of the way. Jeremy has new scars on his face and body to deal with, and his heart can’t afford any more wounds. 

When their friend’s baby needs some special care, the two men find common ground to firm up their shaky union. With Aiden’s support and his boss’s inspiration, Jeremy comes up with a plan to make sure Ariadne's little blackbird comes into this world with everything she needs. While Jeremy grows into his new role as protector, Aiden needs to ease back on his protectiveness over his once-timid lover. Aiden may be a wolf in student's clothing and Jeremy may be a rabbit of a man, but that doesn’t mean they can’t walk the wilds of Granby together.
BUY HERE

Is it a magic? Is it red? Is it eight?

So Squishy had a birthday on Thursday-- she is eight. She is beautiful. I cannot even put voice to what an awesome kid she is.  She asked for books-- and was thrilled to get Judy Moody books.  She asked for clothes, and everybody got her clothes in these colors. They are her best colors. They are peach like her hair and sunshine yellow like her smile.   She adores boots in the winter time, because they make her feel brave.Asnee Llyggeddyn send her (and Chicken and Zoomboy and myself) wants of ash and red willow this week, with a small cachet of stones that are uniquely us. Squishy wanted to know all of the stones--and my favorite was sardonyx, because it sounds like  "Sardonic" which I think captures the unique "no bullwhip" quirk of her eyebrow when she is pretty sure shit ain't kosher. We ate dinner at Wongs with my stepson on Thursday--by her request.  It's not a birthday without dinner at Wongs, but since we love the food, that's okay.  (And they like us-- especially my dad.  Unfortunately, Grandpa Pete couldn't make it this time.  He's on a Wild Hog trip--Harleys and all-- to Las Vegas this week.  As I told my mom, growing old ain't for the weak, and retirement ain't for the lazy.).   Of course, that was the grown up party, bless Squishy's sweet heart.  She's having a couple of friends over to spend the night-- grownups are invited for ice cream and pizza beforehand.  This is a big deal for us.Until yesterday, 1/4 of the visible space in our house looked like this: 


It looks better now, but only with lots of effort.  There will be even more effort when I get home today, because that's only one quarter of the visible house, and Mate cannot be expected to do it all. (Although it is infuriating how much he does, compared to me.  I don't understand how one man can accomplish so much.  He's dazzling.)


 But then, much of my family is dazzling. Chicken is dazzling for getting Squishy a Pokémon Fox named Derek.  (Sterek fans will find this hySterekal by the way.). This was one of Squishy's favorite presents. Big T is dazzling for giving her a comic book, because he thinks everybody should love comic books. And Zoomboy is dazzling because even though we bought him an Evil Minion collectible for "don't be jealous of your sister", he really didn't need it.  He was just happy to go to Wongs and dance on the new dance program.  But he still loved the Evil Minion.  It's assumed his shelf of honor.  So, you know.  Dazzling.  As for me?  I dyed my hair, so I didn't feel old.  I tried for a skunk stripe, but I'm not so great with hair color, so it ended up very very close to Squishy's color in the front. Is it red?  Is it magic?  Is it eight? If it's eight, and magic, and red, it's Squish.   Happy Birthday, Squish.  You are our darling, our baby, the dessert to our family meal.  You are happy, and smart, and clever.  You tell terrible jokes-- but they're getting better--and you are kind and intuitive and read much like I read, to laugh and cry and identify with the hero. You make me feel young enough to have no gray hair whatsoever.   Love you, Squish.  You're the most huggable child I've ever known.

And that happened how?

Okay-- I admit.  I'm an expert in seeing how time can be sucked from my day until only the shriveled husk remains, but I am, at this moment, at a terrible loss.

How can this week have gone by so fast?

And then it dawns on me-- Chicken is home and Squish turns 8 tomorrow. 

And then I remember-- I have been doing mommy things-- buying clothes, buying birthday fun things, taking Big T to the doctor, getting Squish mid-day because she's wet her pants, talking to Chicken, watching the last Harry Potter movie twice with Zoomboy on my lap, and setting up the dual birthday party festivity that is our life.

You know.  Mommy things.

And I thought I had it under control-- I did.  I was doing the job and writing as much as I could and doing mommy things, and then, today, Big T was yammering at me.  It wasn't his fault-- I think the prednisone he's taking for bronchitis has excited him into a veritable verbal excess of galactic proportions--but suddenly I was about two deep breaths away from throwing the dog at his head.  And no, that wouldn't have been good for the dog either.  So, I decided that I'd go lay down and wake up in time to either go work out or do some housework, before running another endless parade of errands.  And then I could blog/answer mail/ chat on FB/actually write and, in short, do all of the things that I usually get to do with my day. 

I set the alarm wrong, and woke up two hours later feeling infinitely refreshed and desperately behind. 

And that has been the story of my day.

So I have nothing to offer you today-- no blinding insights (although I did post my Amy's Lane essay at www.Greenhill.com in the "News" section, and it seems to have garnered some positive attention-- there's a link on the top of the blog page if you're interested) and no news on what I'm working on (I'm 25K into my WWII bittersweet dream.  Nobody wants to read this.  I assure you,) and I'm holding off on the news of Beneath the Stain because this one is going to be released slightly different, because it's much longer.  So, well, there you go.  I've been so busy, nothing has happened.  Or not much at any rate.  So, I'm going to leave you with the picture at the top.  Chicken with a chicken.  Because we found it when we were shopping for Squish, and Chicken isn't going to get an Easter basket this year--she's going to be at school.  So I bought her the Chicken.  Because it's so damned awesome.  And really?  That's all I gots.
 

Grand Adventures and Dog Dialing My Stepmom

Okay-- some things that are not quite happening this week--

It is not quite Easter break, but Chicken is here for her school break anyway!

It is not quite Squish's birthday-- but Thursday, we are all over that!

It is not quite Squish's party-- but Saturday we are all over that!

It is not quite *kermit flail Monday*-- but Monday, April 7th, we are all over that!

It is not quite the release date of the charity anthology to benefit T.J. Klune and Erik Arvin--but tomorrow, we are all over that.

It is not quite our Easter break trip to San Diego-- but the first Saturday of break, we're all over that.

It's not quite the Dreamspinner Press Writer's Conference--but April 23-28th I am all over that.

It's not quite time when I have to have this blanket done for someone who will be at the DSP conference-- but OMG IT'S APRIL 23RD AND I'M NOT QUITE ALL OVER THAT!

And it's not quite Romantic Times Convention, but May 13-20th I'm all over that.

*whew*

And that's plenty for now.

And in the meantime-- Chicken is home, and we're spending quality family time together.  We've watched movies, eaten out, and couched.  Isn't that quality family time?  (They're watching Saturday Night Live now!)

Oh--

And about the dog--

See, we were in the car, and talking about Squish's birthday.  "Squish, did you give your invitations to your friends?"

"Yes-- but what are we going to do for my actual birthday, mom?"

"Uhm…"

"Aren't we going to have dinner at Wong's?"

"Okay, sure!"

"Are grandma and grandpa coming?"

"Uhm, okay.  Here, we're at a stoplight-- I'll look them up, you call them.  Oh crap."

Because the light changed, and I put the phone down next to the dog, on the passenger seat.

And at the next light, I heard the sound of someone calling "Hello!  Hello!" from the other line.

Yup.

The unspoken dangers of cell phones in cars-- nobody ever mentions dog-dialing!

My mom thought it was HILARIOUS!  So did my husband.  The dog was really frickin' puzzled.

Also-- Look what Asnee did!  Asnee is a peep on FB who got such a kick out of the "turtle stories" about Dex and Kane (you can find them on GoodReads HERE) that she made her own line of "Lane-iac" merchandise-- with a turtle on it! All proceeds benefit PAWS animal shelters :-)

OH-- and a few words about the anthology--

See, by the time Christmas was over, I was done.  Cooked and done.  I was exhausted, I'd gained 15 pounds (still trying to work that off, and no, it wasn't like I was skinny in the first place--in fact, it was a fairly dangerous amount of weight) my foot was flaring up, and I was sick.  Seriously.  New Year's Eve was painful because I had to stay up past midnight.

And in the middle of this, I was getting texted by two of my bestests.  Mary-my-Mary and Rhys were both saying, "Hey-- are you writing something for T.J. and Eric's anthology?"

And I was like *sob* "Nooooooooooo?"

And they were like, "Get off your ass and do it!"

And I was like, "Guys-- I wish them both the best, but they don't know me!  Why would they want me to write them a story?  I would mean it with all my heart, but it wouldn't mean anything to them, would it?"

And it was Mary who said, "GET OFF YOUR ASS AND WRITE THIS STORY FOR YOUR FRICKIN' COMMUNITY YOU SLACKER!"

"Okay.  Okay, okay.  Fine.  Give me a couple of days."

And that made me think about how sometimes we have to be pushed to be our best selves.  And how we may mean well, but unless we get off our asses to actually do something, intentions count for shit.  And how, really, it takes very little effort to give something of yourselves to people who need it.

And that is the feeling behind "A Gentle Shove of Human Kindness."  It doesn't take much.  Even if you're in a shit mood and being an irritable bitchy fucker, you can still help people out.

And on that note, I need to post THIS.  As painful as my time at my old job was, Maria Hennessy is one of the most sincere bright spots.  Every so often, she shaves her head for St. Baldricks-- and you're invited to make your donation as well.  You know-- that gentle shove of human kindness I was talking about?  Yup.  It's here.

Anyway--

So, in my last post I promised two gifts.  One was a full e-book collection of the Triane's Son stories, and the other was a signed copy of either books 2, 3, or 4.

I asked my kids for two numbers between 1 and 23, and they came up with 3 and 19.  So Lee Todd and Devony, hit me up!  The first person to contact me at amylane AT greenshill DOT com gets to choose which of the two prizes you want.  If you're opting for the e-books, please be signed up at the www.dreamspinnerpress.com website.  It's free, and it will make getting your 4 e-books in any format MUCH easier!  Congratulations guys-- and thanks so much everybody for commenting :-)

And guys-- don't forget to send me your April releases for the *kermit flail* post.  I've got two so far (Anyta, Adam, haven't forgotten you!) so this week is my push!

*smishes*

Happy week-- if I miss a post it's because I"m in the middle of birthday hilarity!

Bitter Moon-- Triane's Son Completed

4: Triane's Son Reigning Okay-- I know you've seen the covers before.  But, well, the series is out now, all four books, and I thought I would remind you.

Bitter Moon IV: Triane's Son Reigning is out today.  It's the last book in the series, and the moment is bittersweet for me.

While this series was in editing, I frequently got notes from the editors that they were in tears-- that this book, of all of them, completely destroyed them.  At the very end, the editors told me I'd accomplished something incredible, and I should be proud.

I am proud.

I was proud six years ago when I finished this series and published them on my own--but I was also a little disappointed.  The Little Goddess series did so well for a self-pubbed series-- I had just started figuring out sales trends, and I couldn't figure out why this series wasn't selling the same way.

3. Triane's Son FightingWell, the fact is, fantasy and science fiction-- as much as I think they're the pinnacle of human achievement-- don't really sell as well as romance.  Knowing what I know now, I understand: romance sells hope.  Fantasy and science fiction very often sell painful reality with a pretty change of scenery.  I know that for all of the pre-industrial setting, the world building, the magic, that these books involved, there were some painfully real things in them that made them difficult to edit.

I figured I'd compile a list of "Bitter Moon" trivia-- things about my life that coincided with these books--to maybe make that a little more clear.  Also, it would be great to have a bunch of that all in one place.

So, some things to know about The Bitter Moon saga-- on this, the day, of it's completed release.





*  This series originally came in two volumes. (You can still see the original cover art here and here, because amazon.com won't let the three copies in existence die.) For the re-release, we split each volume into two pieces, because the original books were over 200,000 words one, and industry standard, especially for young adult books, is half that.


2: Triane's Son Learning*.  I started writing these books because my older kids were in middle school--I had written the first three books of The Little Goddess series which were "adults only", and they wanted a book they could read.  My daughter read the first of the books, my oldest son was not really ready for all of the figurative language.  Chicken probably could have read the second book, but by then I was reading her all the good parts as I was writing, and, well, spoilers ho!  Chicken hates spoilers.  And, of course, by the time I was done with the second one, she'd already read The Little Goddess series, because, yes, they do grow that fast.

* The protagonist, Torrant, is bisexual.  He did not start out that way, but, well, I fell in love with his school friend, Aylan, and Torrant did too, even though he was moon-destined to Yarri.  I had to accommodate the ending so that they could have their moments.  It was worth it.

*  In the original version, Yarri didn't live.  All of my beta readers (except one-- sorry Erik!) said, "YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"  *sigh*  Too much tragedy.  When I read the books again, I realize they were right.  My heart was sore when I was done with them as it was.

1: Triane's Son Rising*  I started writing these books right after Squish was born-- she was probably two months old.  When you are first introduced to the Moon family, they are pretty much where my family was at that time.  Bethen is pregnant with her fourth child-- a redhead--and her three-year old is giving her fits.  One of the funny things (to me, anyway) was that when "Roes"  (a.k.a. Chicken) is full grown, I keep referring to her as "short and practical".  That's because in eighth grade Chicken was 5'3.  Then she started high school, went to sleep for nine months, and woke up 5'9"--and willowy.  Funny how, even when you're there, you still miss the ways your children grow.

*  My first year back to work with Squish was excruciating.  I blogged a lot of it on the "lost" blog, and I was a lot fiercer and a lot angrier then.  I alienated co-workers with my honesty--and, quite frankly, with my overwrought presentation.  I once made a list of shit that went down when I went back to work that year-- the computer, the administration, other teachers, AND the student body really were out to get me, in tangible, painful ways.  It sounds paranoid--I know it.  It sounded like the rantings of an exhausted, hormonal bitch on wheels, even when I was writing it then.  But now, looking back at it, I realize that just because I was paranoid didn't mean they weren't out to get me.  By the time I started book two (or books three and four now) my hero was stretched unbearably thin and under siege.  By the time he reached the end of his story, I was a sobbing, hysterical mess.

And then the "thing" happened.  If you read the books, you will read about "the thing" as an addendum in the last book.  The thing broke my heart.  Losing a student you are close too is never easy.  I may never get to write a memoir about the vainglorious prickweenies who made my life miserable, the cowardly groveling our administration did at the feet of a parent who worked for the district, the breaking and shifting of an atmosphere made toxic by misogyny and despair.  But I have Torrant, and the way his soul seemed to be destroyed one piece at a time.  The fact that he is alive and happy at the end of this story is, to me, one of the most optimistic things I've ever written.

*  While I was writing these books, I took breaks in between to write The Green's Hill Werewolf series, one novella at a time.  I remember the first time I blogged about Jack & Teague & Katy-- I was extremely self-deprecating back then (if you think I'm bad now!) and I called it "gay werewolf porn".  (Forgive me, everybody.  Seriously.  Especially if you love Teague as much as I do.  Forgive me.)  One of my colleagues pulled me aside to tell me how far I'd fallen.  I couldn't explain to him, even then, how much it meant to me that Teague, damaged, broken Teague, found comfort and love.  I'm a lot more articulate now--and I've had too many people tell me how much my stories mean to them to blow anything I've written off as "porn".  (Not that there's not a long, distinguished history of porn--just my work isn't in it!)

*  The year after I finished Bitter Moon II, I wrote Rampant, and If I Must, and Keeping Promise Rock. The rest, as they say, is history, and I've been writing almost strictly m/m since.  I'm going to break that this summer, and write Quickening to follow Rampant, and I'm worried and stressed-- and exhilarated.  I miss this kind of writing.  I miss alternative universes, and shape-changing angst-monsters, and fierce little women with sexual powered nuclear fusion rays shooting out their mouths.  And editing this story for re-release reminded me of the sheer creative force that such writing entails.

It also reminded me how far I've come, and how much more I'm bringing to the table.

So there you go-- The Bitter Moon Saga.  If you read it, and you're new to Amy Lane, remember, it's not a romance.  It's an epic fantasy with strong romantic elements.

And it was written to break your heart.


ETA-- CONTEST--

Comment on this blog to win the entire set of Bitter Moon books on e-book, OR one signed copy of Triane's Son Fighting OR Triane's Son Reigning.  

Contest begins TONIGHT at posting,

Contest ENDS Sunday night, March 30, 2014, 7 P.M. PST.  I'll announce winners on Twitter, FB, and on the blog-- if the prize isn't claimed in 48 hours, I'll pick another winner.  Comment away!

Things That I Believe

* Warning-- I'm going to get a wee bit political-- but I'm going to try not to get partisan.  Obviously I have a leaning but I believe that crooks are everywhere, mostly where the good guys are supposed to be.  Please--if you disagree with me, odds are good that with some discussion, I could see your point of view, even if I'll never take that side.  If you wish to disagree with me in the comments-- or with anyone else-- please do it in a respectful manner.  I have seriously been flipped off, honked at, and threatened by post-it note because of the liberal bumper stickers on my car.  I beg of you-- don't be that person.  Be the person who says, "Respectfully, I disagree."

Okay-- there are some things that I've been DYING to get off my chest-- but I'm not a fan of Orwellian double speak, so I mostly kept them to myself.  But this is my blog, and hello, I'm going to sound off.  Forgive me.

*  I don't care which political party you're from, if you're soliciting money from me, you're on the side of Satan.  If I'm forking out my money, it had better be going to help the homeless or widows and orphans or American Red Cross or saving the whales or something--I'm not sending it to a bunch of people who claim to be public servants in order that they might "service me" one more goddamned time.

*  Every politician out there--both Dem and Rep--needs to read George Orwell's Politics and the English Language as well as 1984.  When that's over, if they find themselves saying things like, "Within foreseeable distance of a victory!" or "Poised on the precipice of a crushing defeat!" they should volunteer for a summary shooting.  Or an ass-reaming. Or a beheading.  Or something.  Because the way politicians use language today--and again, this is both sides-- is criminal and manipulative and indicates supreme indifference to the education and intelligence of their constituents.

*  Leave health care alone for right now.  5 million people are being served who weren't served before. I know some of those people.  They are tearfully fucking grateful.  Can the system be improved?  Yes.   Can we afford to improve it right now, with a shit list of sixty-eleven things that have been neglected while we fought tooth and nail for something that eleventy-six other countries have managed to do with a lot less blood?  No.  Let people have some fucking low-cost health care and move the hell on.

*  Nobody needs the right to get a gun at a moment's notice.  Do people have the right to protect their homes?  Sure-- as long as they don't go proactively gunning for people outside their four walls, (and Florida, I'm looking at you) I'll give you that.  But every person I know on doctor prescribed mood elevators is screaming, "TEN DAY WAITING PERIOD YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKERS!" and although I've never suffered from clinical depression?  I'll take their word for it.  The fact that the NRA is trying to keep a perfectly qualified man from being surgeon general because he doesn't like guns tells me that a whole faction of those people need to work the emergency ward of an inner city hospital and then come back and try this shit again.

*  Teachers make jack shit.  Jack. Shit.  If you are voting to make a teacher's salary dependent on a school's test scores, regardless of socio-economic circumstances of the school, I sentence you to a week substitute teaching in a crappy school district.  And then the opportunity to go drinking after paying your bills on your salary.  If you vote to make a teacher's salary dependent on the school's test scores and then okay the school cutting the school year in half in order to cut the teacher's salary even further, you need to teach in that school district for a year.  And you need to take your second job in that school district too.  And I get to laugh at your car and your Top Ramen diet, dumbass, because holy wow, do you suck.

*  Yes, there is 3 million dollars of welfare fraud in this country.  There is also 150 BILLION DOLLARS of legal tax evasion from giant corporations in this country.  Before we start cutting the food stamp ratios of single mothers and unemployed fathers and kids who are living from church clothes piles, maybe we can go after the motherfuckers burning hundred dollar bills to light their illegal cigars.  Jesus fucking Christ politicians, use your common sense.  I know someone who committed welfare fraud-- he served two weeks in minimum security prison, because in spite of the fact that he told the welfare office that he had a job, they continued to send him a check.  He used the money to fix his car and buy his daughter clothes for school.  They were the first new clothes I ever wore.  If we spent 1/10 of the time making the rich accountable that we spend persecuting the poor, we'd have a fuckton fewer poor people.

*  25 years ago, Mate and I worked our way through school.  We had jobs that gave us between 30 to 40 hours a week, and we attended a school that would give us our classes within a semester or two of us needing that particular class.  It was hard, and we worked hard, and by God we did it.  Our kids do not live in the same world.  They are competing with adults trying to feed their children with every job application they turn in.  They are competing with people who have attended school for ten years, one class at a time every time they fill out their course selection.  Minimum wage pays for a smaller percentage of their living expenses than it did when their father and I made it, and finding an apartment in anything short of a demilitarized zone for 1/3d of a minimum wage check is damned near impossible.  Education costs more and classes are less likely to be had.  The next time a politician, any politician, talks out his ass about how the poor "need incentive to improve their lives" they need to go back to school.  If school would take them.  Right now, school doesn't take slackers who can't read and don't do their fucking homework.

*  Every politician who thinks we need to cut school lunch programs should sit in a crappy desk with 35 2nd graders and try to pay attention when they're hungry.  And then get yelled at by dumb white men in expensive suits when they act out.

*  Any missionary who goes to another country to try to enact legislation that the United States has rendered illegal needs to spend a week in a refugee camp without protection.  Because seriously-- you have better things to do with your time than make homosexuality a crime in Uganda.

* If politicians are afraid of spending less on the military, why don't they spend more on military aftercare than they do on keeping soldiers engaged in war?  Seriously, it's like none of these idiots have seen Star Trek before-- you know the episode where the trained killers with the deep seated emotional problems go after the government that first created and then SHAFTED THEM?  Holy wow.  If the governing body can't take care of their discharged soldiers out of a sense of ethics and loyalty for a service rendered in good faith, they should at least take care of them out of their outstanding sense of self-preservation.

*pant pant pant*

Okay, I know I offended people, and I'm sorry.  I am.  Maybe not my people, but I'm pretty sure the last asshole who flipped me off because of my rainbow bumper sticker with the Obamacare sticker next to it (admittedly bought in a more optimistic time, but still) wants to deck me in a parking lot.  Personally I hope he breaks his finger while jamming it up his nose first, but then, I'm obviously headed to hell.

Just look at my politics.