Suzan Colon's Blog, page 9

OMG: I'm going to RWA!

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Here's a pic of me and my buddy Fabio at the Romance Writers of America convention.

Tomorrow, I'm heading to Orlando for the 2010 Romance Writers of America conference. That's right–me and 2100 other women who want to have their bodices ripped off by vampires. It doesn't get much better than that.

I'll be posting from there after long, happy, romance-filled days of workshops on how to write steamy love scenes, what makes a hero a Deeply Wounded Alpha, and how to make a living while doing...

Insanely Genius Idea: E-Z Homemade Peanut Butter Cups

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Now. Now. Now. NOW.

This may be the end of Western Civilization, or at least of me fitting into my jeans. And not my superskinny white hootchie-mama jeans, either.

A Friend (meaning, a friend on Facebook) posted a link to this article by Sally Schneider on TheAtlantic.com, a highly-respected journal of news that is even more highly respected since the news was this: how to make peanut butter cups at home. In, like, five seconds.

Don't say I didn't warn you. Well, I didn't, but I am now.

Yours ...

My Faith in Humanity–Restored!

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Saturday was my brother-in-law's birthday. (Happy b-day again, Caleb!) We asked him if he wanted anything–we don't like to surprise people with stuff they may not want or need–and he said he'd like us to make a donation to a charity called Corridor Rescue.

The Hubbins and I both had little "?" bubbles over our heads as we'd never heard of this particular organization before, so we clicked on the link that explained it all. (And you can click on it right here, and I won't even mind if you...

$tuffed Horsies and Other Strange Purchases

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No, no, not that kind of stuffed horsie.

Yesterday, Roy Rogers' stuffed horse, Trigger, was sold at auction for $266,500. The buyer was a Nebraska cable company, which came as something of a relief to me because I couldn't imagine anyone coming home with a rather large taxidermed horse and saying, "Honey, whadaya think–in the corner, by the TV? Or in the bedroom?"

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This is the stuffed horsie that went for big buck$.

The reason for the auction was rather sad: The Roy Rogers and Dale Evans museum ...

When the Going Gets Tough: Home Haircuts

I once expressed a desire to have super-short hair to a friend of mine, who said, "I can cut hair!" Rilly? I said. "Shoooooor," she said confidently. "I can give you a cute short cut."

Something about the sound of the scissors and the lovely feel of the comb going through my hair lulled me into a stupor, and I closed my eyes. When I opened them . . . Well, I had a short cut, all right. Whether it was cute or not, I wasn't so sure.

I tried to convince myself my hair looked okay, in the same...

OMG: I Married Paula Deen.

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My husband.

Fourth of July weekend menu: similar to our Memorial Day weekend menu, which was similar to a Brazilian barbecue–all meat, all the time. Hamburgers (grass-fed, at least), hot dogs, beans with a hint of ham hock, grilled chicken with crispy skin on, unhealthy style. What, I was going to worry about a little chicken skin after all that?

After the meatfest I was pretty well meat-ed out, and when the Fourth of July weekend was over, I declared my independence from meat for a week. I...

Existentialist Googlemapping

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I haven't been doing as many posts lately because of a few interesting twists and turns in life that have landed me squarely on the corner of Where the Heck? and Now What? Among them:

Point A: I've been working on a novel, all the live-long day, for the past seven weeks. Now, my writer friends hear that and say, "You finished a novel in seven weeks?" When they look like they'd like to bash my head in with the nearest New York Times bestseller, I remind them that my speedwriting is no...

Sis Boom Bah! Rah Write Rah!

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Everybody needs some of these in their lives.

Where would we be without our cheerleaders? I'm not talking about the Laker Girls type; I mean the people in our lives who urge us to keep fighting the good fight (whatever fight you're fighting).

Every now and then, I feel like I ought to cut out the writing shenanigans and get a "real" job. Part of this is stupid guilt–I enjoy what I do so much that I think it should at best be illegal and at worst not be classified as real work. (Oddly, I...

Silver Streaks: Punk Rock for Midlife Ladies

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I'm starting to look like someone shot me with a silver bullet during my werewolf phase. (Yeah, I'm gearing up for Twilight: Eclipse.)

On my thirtieth birthday, I walked into a salon and told the stylist that, aside from shaving my head or dying my hair blue, she could do whatever she wanted. Delighted with the freedom, she gave me a pixie cut that maxed out at two and a half inches, maybe three, in length. I loved it.

Women would stop me on the street. Sometimes they'd ask me where I got my h...

Good Advice: Live!

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The Hubbins and I went away for a few days to a lovely place we've been to a bunch of times now. It's in the mountains, it's beautiful, gardens, great food, hiking (for me), biking (for him), nature, birds, clean air, tall pines, all that good stuff–when you could see it. There was also a lot of fog. We're talking pea soup, gorillas in the mist, angry dead pirates, Resident Evil–this was some Cool Whip-level fog.

So we cut the trip short and, with two vacation days left, went into our...