Cait Miller's Blog: Sizzling Scribes Blog, page 13

An I Love Lucy Moment

We've all had those moments when we've done something totally stupid, something like Lucy Ricardo would've done on the old I Love Lucy show. If you're too young to remember that show, you've missed out on some great comedy.
I'll start this story with a fact about me that you may not know—I'm very full busted. That plays a big part in my tale.
My late husband, Harry, and I moved from Sacramento, California to Olympia, Washington in 1996. His son, Little Harry (whose name never made sense to me since he's 6'1"), owned a house in Forks (yes, the town of Twilight fame) that was currently empty, so told us we could store all our household belongings in it until we got settled in a place to live. It was a cute little house with a second story that contained two small bedrooms and a bath. Little Harry was currently remodeling the house, so it was pretty much a mess upstairs.
A couple of weeks after we arrived in Washington, we drove up to the house in Forks to get some of our stuff. It was pouring rain. Forks is on the edge of a rain forest and gets a lot of rain per year. We walked in the back door of the house and heard water running. Let me rephrase that. We heard water gushing and it had nothing to do with the rain outside.
A pipe had burst in the upstairs bathroom beneath the sink and water was literally dripping down the walls and through the ceiling. So we whipped out our cell phone and prayed we could reach Little Harry in Olympia to tell him what happened and find out how to turn off the water. Remember, this was 1996, so cell phones barely had a strong enough signal to call the neighbor, let alone 100 miles away. Luckily, we were able to reach him and he told us where the lever was located to turn off the water. It was under the house, which meant going out in the pouring rain.
I was elected for the job. Harry had had a stroke in 1994 that affected his legs, so him crawling beneath a house wasn't even an option. With the help of a flashlight, we found the little white lever. Hooray! All I had to do was pull it forward a couple of inches and the water would turn off. So I get on the ground in the mud and scooch backward on my back in the narrow space between the ground and the bottom of the house to get to the lever. I'm within an inch (literally) of reaching it when (yep, you guessed it) my boobs came up against the house. I can't go any farther. I'm stretching and squirming to reach that lever just off my fingertips, but my boobs won't let me move.
Of course, Harry is leaning down watching me and laughing like crazy. I put up with his snickering for a few moments, then informed him it was up to him to figure out what to do. After laughing a little longer, he went in the house and came back with a wire clothes hanger. I hooked it around the lever and pulled forward. Viola! Water off, job complete.
Do you have one of those I Love Lucy moments? Tell me about it. I love a good laugh.
Lynn

Vegas, Baby!

So I'm taking a few days in Vegas, first for business, now for pleasure...so this will be short but I had a bit of a revelation about time away from the keyboard.
I'm a pretty consistent writer. When I'm home, I don't take "days off." I work a full-time job and when I get time off from that, I work at my "other job," writing. The writing is a mental break from my day job and I know that at this point in my life, I have to maintain the two work environments.
When I'm on vacation, or even just away from home, my routine is completely thrown off. I haven't written a word in five days. I haven't even spent time with my characters (you know, those moments when I let myself daydream and drift into the worlds inhabited by werewolves or dragons. Please note: I often do this while I'm driving which probably makes me fairly dangerous on the road...be glad you don't live in my city.)
This morning while I was waiting for my massage, I dropped in to visit a werewolf character of mine. It was like visiting a friend that I haven't seen in weeks. I realized my characters and I were getting a little tired of each other. We needed a little bit of space. And now, after a few days away, I have new insights, new stories, a couple of funny scenes...and discovered a great place to hide a body (the pool side of the hotel...cool, huh?).
Have fun! I'm off to find my favorite slot machine!
Tielle.
P.S. (Don't forget...I have two books out in the past month—A Change of Pace, available at Amazon, and Collective Memory from Ellora's Cave!)

I Count My Blessings

I count my blessings. I just came in from outdoors here in Minnesota. The temperature is sitting at about 65 degrees, the sun is shining, and for some odd reason there were no bugs flitting around my head as I welcomed in the summer season by planting some flowers and weeding some flower beds. Over the past week a lot of us northerners have been bemoaning the fact that we've had frost on a couple of mornings and that we're sick of the fact we've had a lot of rain, not much sun, and temps that have been below normal.

I count my blessings and have decided to stop the whining. My house is standing, my basement is not flooded, the trees are budding and my family is around me. I sit and once more turn on CNN and sit transfixed while watching the horrible devastation over a large part of the United States, both with flooding and the horrific tornados that ripped apart lives and communities. Once again, a lump forms in my throat as I watch a father struggle to get out the words, "I have lost both my sons." Another woman still looks in shock as she gazes about a pile of rubble that used to be her home and states, "I have nothing left. It's all gone." She shrugs and her eyes are glazed over. Another parent is frantic because he's traveled to all the local hospitals and still he cannot find his missing son. These events are almost beyond comprehension.

I count my blessings because I don't have to stand in shocked awe, I don't have to deal with the fact that one of my loved ones is still missing. I don't have to worry when the chance of a warm meal and a hot shower will present itself. I don't have to dig through a pile of boards and branches searching frantically for some favorite memento that I can cling to, something that will ground me and help me to take the next step to recovery and rebuilding. Something that will give me hope.

My heart goes out to all of those poor souls who have been affected by the tragic events of the last week. My respect is tenfold for those who despite the fact could have lost their own lives, instead they stepped up and went beyond the call in order to help others and save them from certain death. And I sit in wonder as I watch the strength of the human spirit. One man has already begun rebuilding his home. Another works tiredly yet with firm conviction as he rebuilds his wife's beauty shop. Amazing.

I count my blessings.

Rapturefied

Seeing as it's 5:40 pm on the day of the predicted earthquake that brings forth the rapture or end of the world as we know it, I decided to get this in before there was no one left to read it. :0Do you truly believe the world will come to an end simply because some man (who in MHO is a bit off-Kilter) predicts it. How does he know? Who told him? Did he read it the tea leaves? No he claims he deciphered it from a passage in the Bible. I find it amazing he has sunk his money into trying to make everyone else believe his interpretation of words from a well-written book that has managed to survive the centuries. (Honestly as an author, I wish I had those numbers in my sales column.) Growing up in a Southern Baptist family, the bible was not taken lightly. We were taught to pray and believe in the good word of the book of faith. But as I grew older and began to spread my wings a bit and listen to different preachers, I realized the Bible could be interpreted in many different ways. It depended on who was reading, how they perceived the meaning, and then how they chose to spread that word as gospel to their parishioners. The same passage read by several different people can be perceived to mean different things to each person who read it. That is how the Bible was written. As a series of interesting facts told in tantalizing tales of Birth, Life, Scandal, Deceit, Death and above all One Almighty Being who created Everything.It was meant to teach right from wrong. It set guidelines for everyone to follow. But somewhere along the line, these basic guidelines have been forgotten. Unfortunately, the language in which the Bible is written, makes it difficult to truly comprehend exactly what was meant in some of it's more obscure passages. This may be the reason behind this man's misconception of said passage. Take DaVinci's work for instance. So many have spent valuable time deciphering his works and twisting it to fit events that have occurred and then claim DaVinci predicted the future. Hogwash. If the future could be predicted, then why don't fortune tellers hit the lottery? If I had the ability to predict the future, the first thing I'd do was pick my numbers.So is the end near? I doubt it. There is no way of knowing when the world will end. But since it's 6:04pm in Jersey. I guess we missed it.

The Fleetingness of Life

"Life isn't fair. It's just fairer than death, that's all."
William Goldman
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This month has been a difficult one for me but not as difficult as those who have been in my care. When I tell people that I am a midwife their response is often "Oh what a lovely job!" The reason for that of course is usually that they have either not had children, or had uncomplicated pregnancy and deliveries. In this day and age and in most countries we are very lucky to have the benefit of modern maternity services. It is rare nowadays for things to go badly wrong that the worst happens and people often forget that women still become seriously ill and yes, lose their lives when having a baby. The other thing that people never think about is sadly even more common; losing a baby.

This month has brought that very clearly into my focus as I personally cared for two couples who lost their baby and my colleagues looked after another three. At times like these I question why I do what I do...because as you see, it's not always a lovely job. I have to do things that make me very uncomfortable and are upsetting and while I'm in the moment, I hate every second of it. I feel sorry for myself in private and I grieve along with the parents. While I take handprints and footprints and pictures I often cry. But I do it. Because I am responsible for the only thing these parents are going to take home from the hospital. Every single thing that I do matters to them. They remember it and are grateful for it in a way that those who take a healthy baby home will hopefully never understand.

At the end of the day my goal is to make this horrible event as easy as possible and to send them home with some measure of peace. Occasionally I get a card telling me that I did that and those mean more to me than any other card or gift I receive. I wanted to take a moment today to pay tribute to those mothers and fathers who have been there. Please take a moment today to give a thought or a prayer or donate to a charity for those in this situation. In the UK most don't realise that it is charities like SANDS and SIMBA who furnish 'home away from home' rooms and provide memory boxes, counselling and other vital services. If you knit then think about making small hats and cardigans or blankets to donate to your local maternity hospital. People often think of donating to the Neonatal Units but never of the little souls who don't make it there. You could help someone like me give a little peace.

"When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life so that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice."
Kabir (1440-1518)

SANDS http://www.uk-sands.org/

SIMBA http://simba.workwithus.org/

Self-publishing

Self-publishing one's own books used to have a certain "ick" factor on the part of publishers and the reading public alike. With no company acting as gatekeeper, standards of professionalism could not be guaranteed and often there was no way for the reader to be assured of purchasing a quality work.
But times and technology changes people's ideas and what was once anathema is now de rigueur. Well-known authors have decided to take their careers into their own hands, bypassing a group increasingly viewed as "middlemen". New authors are seeing new frontiers and forming their own bands of loyal readers.
And readers have benefited from this expansion of self-publishing, especially in the ebook formats. Look at all the choices! Without traditional publishers as gatekeepers, anything and everything is out there for you to pick and choose from. Yes, this means that standards of professionalism are often a crapshoot, but, as in every business, the best will rise to the top and the unprofessional will eventually find another job.
So why did I choose to self-publish Tales from the Ramayana ? Mostly because it's a collection of short stories (strike one – no publisher's really looking for short stories) taken from an old epic from India (old? Yuck! Strike two. And is it anything like the Odyssey? That was a stupid story. Wandering around lost for ten years? Why didn't he just ask a woman for directions and go home? Or is it like Beowulf? I hated that in high school…Strike three). I'm out!
But at the center of this truly cool epic, is a love story sure to set your heart aflutter. The four short stories in my telling of the Ramayana show how Ram and Sita meet, fall in love and then convince their families they should be together. And you want to talk royal weddings? You should see theirs! Hands down theirs was more glorious than any of recent memory.
I'm not the only Scribe to jump into the self-publishing waters, either. Tara Nina has an offering out, an erotic romance with a hunky cowboy you won't want to miss!
So readers, what are your concerns about authors taking the plunge into the self-publication waters? If you were giving advice to authors, what would you tell them?
And authors, what do you see as the benefits (and pitfalls) of taking matters into your own hands?
As always, play safe!Diana

Self-publishing one's own books used to have a certain "i...

Self-publishing one's own books used to have a certain "ick" factor on the part of publishers and the reading public alike. With no company acting as gatekeeper, standards of professionalism could not be guaranteed and often there was no way for the reader to be assured of purchasing a quality work.
But times and technology changes people's ideas and what was once anathema is now de rigueur. Well-known authors have decided to take their careers into their own hands, bypassing a group increasingly viewed as "middlemen". New authors are seeing new frontiers and forming their own bands of loyal readers.
And readers have benefited from this expansion of self-publishing, especially in the ebook formats. Look at all the choices! Without traditional publishers as gatekeepers, anything and everything is out there for you to pick and choose from. Yes, this means that standards of professionalism are often a crapshoot, but, as in every business, the best will rise to the top and the unprofessional will eventually find another job.
So why did I choose to self-publish Tales from the Ramayana ? Mostly because it's a collection of short stories (strike one – no publisher's really looking for short stories) taken from an old epic from India (old? Yuck! Strike two. And is it anything like the Odyssey? That was a stupid story. Wandering around lost for ten years? Why didn't he just ask a woman for directions and go home? Or is it like Beowulf? I hated that in high school…Strike three). I'm out!
But at the center of this truly cool epic, is a love story sure to set your heart aflutter. The four short stories in my telling of the Ramayana show how Ram and Sita meet, fall in love and then convince their families they should be together. And you want to talk royal weddings? You should see theirs! Hands down theirs was more glorious than any of recent memory.
I'm not the only Scribe to jump into the self-publishing waters, either. Tara Nina has an offering out, an erotic romance with a hunky cowboy you won't want to miss!
So readers, what are your concerns about authors taking the plunge into the self-publication waters? If you were giving advice to authors, what would you tell them?
And authors, what do you see as the benefits (and pitfalls) of taking matters into your own hands?
As always, play safe!Diana

What Do I Blog About Now?

I admire people who have so much going on in their lives or are so clever that they can blog every day. I can't do that. I live a simple life. I get out of bed, I shower, I have breakfast, I check email, I write, I have lunch, I check email, I write, I check email, I have supper, I watch TV, I go to bed, I read a while, I go to sleep. Somewhere in there I do dishes, laundry, vacuum, and clean off my desk so I can find a pen when I need it.
So I wondered what I could tell you about this time that would spark your interest and entertain you.
The weather? Spring has sprung! That means it's allergy season for me. Okay, that covered the weather.
Movies I've seen? I went to see The Tourist the end of December. Otherwise I have a Netflix subscription and watch movies at home. I recently watched Tangled (loved it!) and finished the last disc of the third season of the BBC production of Robin Hood. I didn't like the ending, but I enjoyed the series.
Books I've read? Sunday is my reading day, along with the bit of reading I do at night before going to sleep. I've been catching up on the Scribes' books that have been stacked up, waiting to be read. I recently finished:
Snowy Night Seduction by Arianna HartFinding the Magic by Cait MillerTales from the Ramayana by Diana HunterWinter's Rose by Ruby StormPlaying Cowboy by Tara NinaAfter the Ceremony by Tielle St. Clare
Man, these ladies are talented! I'm managing to read a book a week, which isn't nearly enough to satisfy my need to immerse myself in other authors' worlds. I'd love to have more time to read, but writing comes first. After all, that's my job and I LOVE my job.
Hobbies? I love to scrapbook. One of my friends is a consultant for Creative Memories and has a huge room at her house where she holds scrapbooking classes. I go there at least twice a month. We scrapbook, gossip, and eat chocolate. What could be better?
So now I've written a whole blog. That's pretty good considering I had nothing to blog about. I hope part of it sparked your interest and entertained you.
Have a great week!
Lynn

Speeding World

We all know the world moves too fast and it gets faster as we get older but lately, it's like I can feel it moving. It isn't a case of "where did the month go?" It's waking up each day and needing to get things done. I think it's because I feel like I've been "flintstoning" for the past two years.

I learned this term last week. When Fred Flintstone used to get ready to drive his car, he's spin his legs and run in place, a lot of action but not going anywhere. That's kind of how I've been feeling. I've been writing and getting books out, but I don't know that I'm progressing. I haven't been changing. I haven't been taking in new information. I got done with my meteorology classes three years ago and my brain's gone stagnant. I've even been reading the same books over and over again (okay, that probably won't change. I love re-reading books. It's like visiting old friends but I need to add new books to my stock).

In the last month, there's been a change. I feel like I'm moving forward again. And it came from a simple source...I sat down and wrote out some goals. I know they always tell you to do that but I've never really taken the time. For the first time in a while, I feel like I know what I want in my life. I have direction. The result is I want to rush that direction. That's why the world feels like it's speeding along.

Or maybe it's just that I'm racing to catch up. I see people doing what I want to do and I want to get busy. I want to be where they are.

It sounds a little panicked, maybe a little sad but really, it's invigorating. Every day I think about what I'm going to do to get me to where I want to be. Part of my goals are writing related and to accomplish those, I've been writing more. I've been hitting daily writing targets. Look for a new release at the end of April and yes, I'm writing the next dragon book (due to my editor in July).

I'm a little off balance with it right now. Kind of like a top that got spun to fast but I think after this initial rush, I'll slow down. At least now I know where I'm headed.

Turning the Speed Limit

Whether I choose for it to happen or not, there's no running from it. Today I turn the speed limit. Fifty-five. How in hell does that happen? I bet there's more than one person out there scratching their head like me and trying to come up with the answer! The only thing I can deduce is I will now begin to fool myself on a daily basis. Fifty-five in my mind has just become the new thirty. LOL! Because I tell you if I don't keep this mantra running through my brain I may just have to bring out my cane and find some cute little boyscout to help me cross the street.

Is it possible? I just turned the speed limit. What the hell. I don't feel like what I used to think fifty-five would feel like. For those fossils out there close to my age, I ask you this question. Do you remember when you were in your teens and knew someone who was turning thirty – did you think wow, they are O-L-D? And then as thirty crept close, you readjusted your mindset and switched it up and then began to think about forty and what repercussions there would be to having near adult children? Well hell yeah! Instead of hiring a babysitter you now will be able to party with those same children and show them how youthful forty actually is (keep telling yourself that, baby) And yeah again, your own parents were O-L-D at forty but no way were you going to be like that because damn, the body still seems to be holding out.

Ah yes, here it comes. The day you turn the speed limit. This is what's going on with me. Some little bitch is running around inside my brain, pointing a finger at me and holding her crotch so she doesn't pee her pants from laughing. You have just turned the speed limit, she giggles behind her youthful smooth-skinned hand. Now that you're fifty-five, happy hour will be defined as a nap instead of doing body shots on a bar. That little aforementioned bitch finally gets her wits together and really starts on me. She says, and remember when you loved surprise birthday cakes and all the candles? Hmmph! Now you can use all that wax to wax your legs….and armpits….and the mustache you've recently acquired and all those goat hairs springing out on your chin! And hey, old lady, remember having sex and being able to bend? I'll just leave it at that, but remember, you can live without sex but you can't live without your cheater glasses! And don't worry about your friends keeping your secrets safe because they can't remember them either! And don't worry about watching the weather channel. Your knees will be a much more accurate way of telling you that weather is about to change. And oh yeah, one more thing. You can quit worrying about droopy breasts and a sagging ass. Why? Because they've already fallen. Yup. That knocking feeling on the back of your knees is really your ass.

Argggh, I say! Arggggh! But on the upside, I'm going to make this a good day. I'm going to spend it with my kids and family and friends. I'm actually NOT doing the cooking. I'm going to eat and not worry about calories and cholesterol. I'm going to look around and count my blessings that my kids and grandkids are healthy and that my parents are still here, productive, and not in a nursing home. And for the hell of it I just may do a body shot and set my cruise on fifty-six when I drive home!