Lani Wendt Young's Blog, page 3
December 21, 2012
It's Getting Hot in Here
Talofa Family and Friends,
The new book in the Telesa Series has just been released as an electronic book on Amazon. Please click on the link below to see the listing -
"I am Daniel Tahi" - The Daniel Novella. Price - $7.99
(Please be aware that due to content of a sexual nature, the Daniel Novella is recommended for mature readers 17+ only and parental discretion is advised.) If you don't own a Kindle, the book can be downloaded to your e-reader, computer or phone. Click on this link to get the free Kindle Reading Application installed on your device. Free, Quick, Easy Kindle Reading App
This novella tells Daniel's side of the story and is included as part of the Limited "Telesa Special Edition." This collection contains the following items:
1. The revised version of the first book, 'Telesa:The Covenant Keeper.'
2. 'I am Daniel Tahi' - A 100 pg novella that speaks from Daniel's perspective. Get to know your favorite character in a whole new way...as he reveals his sensual, passionate side. (And his sometimes angry, often funny side is pretty unforgettable too!)
3. Leila's Love Poem
4. Articles from various contributors on: Telesa Spirit Women Mythology in Samoan Culture, What is a 'Malu', The Portrayal of Fa'afafine, Preserving Samoan Culture through Popular Fiction..., and more.
5. Recipe Section for key Pacific dishes enjoyed in the Telesa Books.
6. Character Interviews
7. Visitor Information about Samoa - the Treasured Islands of the Pacific.
Since the release of the first book in the series, I continue to get many reader requests for further information about Samoa - the place, culture, food, legends and more. Such requests range from those planning first-time trips to Samoa to young people wanting to learn more about some of our traditional beliefs and mythology. I'm humbled that in some small way, these books have helped others to discover the unique treasure that is our country, culture and people.
This 'Telesa Special Edition' celebrates that interest and excitement as I have compiled a selection of Telesa ‘stuff’ that has only come about as a result of YOU the readers. Thank you to all those who granted permission for their articles to be included in this collection. Much gratitude as always to the artistic team that produced the cover design; photographer Jordan Kwan and models Faith Wulf and Ezra Taylor.
It has been just over a year since the first Telesa book was launched. Thank you for your support and encouragement. For your patience and enthusiasm. I hope you will continue to walk with me on this writing journey so that together we can fuel the creative writing fire that makes the Telesa Series of books - a love story worth getting lost in. The next book in the series, 'The Bone Bearer' will be released in April 2013.
Faafetai tele lava,
Lani
Romance Author - Pasifika Style.
The new book in the Telesa Series has just been released as an electronic book on Amazon. Please click on the link below to see the listing -
"I am Daniel Tahi" - The Daniel Novella. Price - $7.99
(Please be aware that due to content of a sexual nature, the Daniel Novella is recommended for mature readers 17+ only and parental discretion is advised.) If you don't own a Kindle, the book can be downloaded to your e-reader, computer or phone. Click on this link to get the free Kindle Reading Application installed on your device. Free, Quick, Easy Kindle Reading App
This novella tells Daniel's side of the story and is included as part of the Limited "Telesa Special Edition." This collection contains the following items:
1. The revised version of the first book, 'Telesa:The Covenant Keeper.'
2. 'I am Daniel Tahi' - A 100 pg novella that speaks from Daniel's perspective. Get to know your favorite character in a whole new way...as he reveals his sensual, passionate side. (And his sometimes angry, often funny side is pretty unforgettable too!)
3. Leila's Love Poem
4. Articles from various contributors on: Telesa Spirit Women Mythology in Samoan Culture, What is a 'Malu', The Portrayal of Fa'afafine, Preserving Samoan Culture through Popular Fiction..., and more.
5. Recipe Section for key Pacific dishes enjoyed in the Telesa Books.
6. Character Interviews
7. Visitor Information about Samoa - the Treasured Islands of the Pacific.
Since the release of the first book in the series, I continue to get many reader requests for further information about Samoa - the place, culture, food, legends and more. Such requests range from those planning first-time trips to Samoa to young people wanting to learn more about some of our traditional beliefs and mythology. I'm humbled that in some small way, these books have helped others to discover the unique treasure that is our country, culture and people.
This 'Telesa Special Edition' celebrates that interest and excitement as I have compiled a selection of Telesa ‘stuff’ that has only come about as a result of YOU the readers. Thank you to all those who granted permission for their articles to be included in this collection. Much gratitude as always to the artistic team that produced the cover design; photographer Jordan Kwan and models Faith Wulf and Ezra Taylor.
It has been just over a year since the first Telesa book was launched. Thank you for your support and encouragement. For your patience and enthusiasm. I hope you will continue to walk with me on this writing journey so that together we can fuel the creative writing fire that makes the Telesa Series of books - a love story worth getting lost in. The next book in the series, 'The Bone Bearer' will be released in April 2013.
Faafetai tele lava,
Lani
Romance Author - Pasifika Style.
Something Worth Shouting About
December 9, 2012
I am Wild Warrior Woman. Hear me Roar.
The Bella Beast wanted a dog for her birthday. I said hell no, I have five kids - I dont want to look after six. Because Ive been a mother long enough to know thats what happens when you get a pet. It becomes the mother's responsibility to feed it, wash it, deflea it and love it.
But then the Hot Man was scrolling through dog ads on some cutesie pet website and up pops pictures of a Siberian Huskie. And my heart catches fire. And I am swept away with longing. Weak with willingness to befriend a Siberian Husky with blue eyes. I am reminded of Jack London books that entranced me as a child, 'Call of the Wild' and 'White Fang'. Books with wolf dogs in them. Wild, fierce, beautiful wolf dogs. And I wanted one. Desperately. Because then I wouldnt be a shy, quiet, nerdy girl with no social skills. No, with a Siberian Husky dog by my side, I would be a confident, kickass, wild warrior woman who people were alternately scared of and fascinated by!
I announce to the Hot Man and the teenagers, "We should get Bella a dog. Like this. A Siberian Husky. Thats what she needs. Thats what she wants." Mothers lie sometimes to get what they want. In case you didnt know.
They are bemused by my change of heart. But we do some research. Do you know these dogs are so intelligent they can open doors, open the fridge, climb over a chain link fence, do the laundry and scrub the bathroom? (ok, maybe the last two are an exagerration. Whatever) Did you know Siberian Husky dog owners enter their dogs in sled races? And huskies have to be taken for looooooong runs everyday because they are so energetic and strong? I tell the Hot Man, that IF i had a Husky, I would go for 10K runs every day. Just me and my husky. I can see it now....both of us, running along as fit and fierce creatures, beauty in motion, tireless, relentless. Just think how athletic and toned I would be, IF I had a husky? Maybe we would get a sled! I could enter Sled races! How super exciting is that?! Me and my Sled dog team...barreling through the white wilderness, defying the elements, at one with the universe! (Yes, I am aware there is no snow in West Auckland, thank you Dream-Killer. Keep your horrible thoughts to yourself.) Ohmigosh, me and my Husky team could enter the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race from Anchorage to Nome! We could be hanging out with Balto! I could be like Pocohantas! (No, wrong movie.)
I want a husky, dammit. I want it now. But its not looking good. Siberian Huskies in NZ cost at least $1000. And eat like wolves. I cannot afford a dog like this. I would have to sell a kidney to buy it. And the other kidney so i could feed it.
I am bereft. And then I find an ad that wants to GIVE AWAY three Siberian Husky puppies. Adorable, fluffy white puppies with piercing blue eyes. It's too good to be true! I email the man. He emails back. He's elderly, sick, about to have an operation. He loves his puppies with all his sickly heart but can't give them the attention they need. He only wants them to have a good home. I email him my condolences about his operation, his illness, his sadness. I offer MY good home for his puppies. I tell the Hot Man and the teenagers. We have to spell the word D-O-G so that Bella doesnt know what we're planning. Big Son is excited. He sends the pics to all his friends. (I think Big Son has visions of himself taking Siberian Huskies for a 10k run. Where he's shirtless. With rippling muscles. And together him and the Husky are the epitome of wild warriors.)
Big Daughter starts making a list of possible names for the dogs. Umm...excuse me? These are MY dogs, thank you very much. She wants to call one, "Snowflake". Umm... are you out of your mind? My Husky is not a fluffball of fluffiness. My Husky is ferocious and loyal and warriorlike. Like me ( in my mind.) My Husky is going to be called, "Blade". Or "Fang". Or "Erik" the True Blood viking. Or "Stormblade."
We are making excited plans for our new dogs when Little Daughter interrupts us, "What's a D-O-G?"
We all roll our eyes at her atrocious grasp of spelling. (The child is ten.) And then i get an email from the dog owner. Bad news - he lives in Napier. While we live in Auckland. But dont worry, he can send the dogs to us via a pet transport company! All we have to do is pay $395 direct to the Pet Transport people and he will send us the dogs ASAP. What a small price to pay for me to have my very own husky dog sled team. I'm already planning my outfit. For when Im a dog sled woman. I'm thinking steel grey and red ski suit... And then the Hot Man jokes, "It sounds a bit like one of those Nigerian money scams. Wouldnt it be funny if this were a trick?"
Me and my Sled dog team don't think its funny. But I go ahead and google the Pet Transport company.
It doesnt exist. Anywhere on Google.
Me and my Sled Dog team come to a crashing halt. I email the man to ask him about the company. He emails me back with a link to pay for the transport bill. I have to pay by Western Union. To an account in the UKRAINE.
Me and my Sled Dog team go over a snow-topped cliff. Crash.
I email the man querying why the NZ Pet transport company (that doesnt exist in any business directory) has an account in the freakin Ukraine? He emails back a completely implausible story. Almost as implausible as a person who wants to give away THREE dogs that cost one thousand dollars each, to complete strangers.
I am beyond enraged. I am a wolf who wants to rip out this scammer's throat. But its no use. Because he's thousands of miles away. In the Ukraine. And not even a Siberian Husky dog sled team can reach him.
I dont send any money to the Ukraine. I dont get a Siberian Husky. Or three. We buy Bella a bike for her birthday instead.
What have we learned from this?
1. I don't need a Siberian Husky to be a Wild Warrior Woman. If dog-scammers read blogs, read this: One day I WILL get to the Ukraine. And when I do? Be afraid. Be very afraid.
2. I need to spend less time writing and more time teaching Little Daughter how to spell.
3. You shouldnt try to get things for free. Not even dream dogs.
4. The only way I'm getting a Siberian Husky dog is if Santa brings me one.
5. If something is too good to be true? Then it's not true.
But then the Hot Man was scrolling through dog ads on some cutesie pet website and up pops pictures of a Siberian Huskie. And my heart catches fire. And I am swept away with longing. Weak with willingness to befriend a Siberian Husky with blue eyes. I am reminded of Jack London books that entranced me as a child, 'Call of the Wild' and 'White Fang'. Books with wolf dogs in them. Wild, fierce, beautiful wolf dogs. And I wanted one. Desperately. Because then I wouldnt be a shy, quiet, nerdy girl with no social skills. No, with a Siberian Husky dog by my side, I would be a confident, kickass, wild warrior woman who people were alternately scared of and fascinated by!
I announce to the Hot Man and the teenagers, "We should get Bella a dog. Like this. A Siberian Husky. Thats what she needs. Thats what she wants." Mothers lie sometimes to get what they want. In case you didnt know.
They are bemused by my change of heart. But we do some research. Do you know these dogs are so intelligent they can open doors, open the fridge, climb over a chain link fence, do the laundry and scrub the bathroom? (ok, maybe the last two are an exagerration. Whatever) Did you know Siberian Husky dog owners enter their dogs in sled races? And huskies have to be taken for looooooong runs everyday because they are so energetic and strong? I tell the Hot Man, that IF i had a Husky, I would go for 10K runs every day. Just me and my husky. I can see it now....both of us, running along as fit and fierce creatures, beauty in motion, tireless, relentless. Just think how athletic and toned I would be, IF I had a husky? Maybe we would get a sled! I could enter Sled races! How super exciting is that?! Me and my Sled dog team...barreling through the white wilderness, defying the elements, at one with the universe! (Yes, I am aware there is no snow in West Auckland, thank you Dream-Killer. Keep your horrible thoughts to yourself.) Ohmigosh, me and my Husky team could enter the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race from Anchorage to Nome! We could be hanging out with Balto! I could be like Pocohantas! (No, wrong movie.)
I want a husky, dammit. I want it now. But its not looking good. Siberian Huskies in NZ cost at least $1000. And eat like wolves. I cannot afford a dog like this. I would have to sell a kidney to buy it. And the other kidney so i could feed it.
I am bereft. And then I find an ad that wants to GIVE AWAY three Siberian Husky puppies. Adorable, fluffy white puppies with piercing blue eyes. It's too good to be true! I email the man. He emails back. He's elderly, sick, about to have an operation. He loves his puppies with all his sickly heart but can't give them the attention they need. He only wants them to have a good home. I email him my condolences about his operation, his illness, his sadness. I offer MY good home for his puppies. I tell the Hot Man and the teenagers. We have to spell the word D-O-G so that Bella doesnt know what we're planning. Big Son is excited. He sends the pics to all his friends. (I think Big Son has visions of himself taking Siberian Huskies for a 10k run. Where he's shirtless. With rippling muscles. And together him and the Husky are the epitome of wild warriors.)
Big Daughter starts making a list of possible names for the dogs. Umm...excuse me? These are MY dogs, thank you very much. She wants to call one, "Snowflake". Umm... are you out of your mind? My Husky is not a fluffball of fluffiness. My Husky is ferocious and loyal and warriorlike. Like me ( in my mind.) My Husky is going to be called, "Blade". Or "Fang". Or "Erik" the True Blood viking. Or "Stormblade."
We are making excited plans for our new dogs when Little Daughter interrupts us, "What's a D-O-G?"
We all roll our eyes at her atrocious grasp of spelling. (The child is ten.) And then i get an email from the dog owner. Bad news - he lives in Napier. While we live in Auckland. But dont worry, he can send the dogs to us via a pet transport company! All we have to do is pay $395 direct to the Pet Transport people and he will send us the dogs ASAP. What a small price to pay for me to have my very own husky dog sled team. I'm already planning my outfit. For when Im a dog sled woman. I'm thinking steel grey and red ski suit... And then the Hot Man jokes, "It sounds a bit like one of those Nigerian money scams. Wouldnt it be funny if this were a trick?"
Me and my Sled dog team don't think its funny. But I go ahead and google the Pet Transport company.
It doesnt exist. Anywhere on Google.
Me and my Sled Dog team come to a crashing halt. I email the man to ask him about the company. He emails me back with a link to pay for the transport bill. I have to pay by Western Union. To an account in the UKRAINE.
Me and my Sled Dog team go over a snow-topped cliff. Crash.
I email the man querying why the NZ Pet transport company (that doesnt exist in any business directory) has an account in the freakin Ukraine? He emails back a completely implausible story. Almost as implausible as a person who wants to give away THREE dogs that cost one thousand dollars each, to complete strangers.
I am beyond enraged. I am a wolf who wants to rip out this scammer's throat. But its no use. Because he's thousands of miles away. In the Ukraine. And not even a Siberian Husky dog sled team can reach him.
I dont send any money to the Ukraine. I dont get a Siberian Husky. Or three. We buy Bella a bike for her birthday instead.
What have we learned from this?
1. I don't need a Siberian Husky to be a Wild Warrior Woman. If dog-scammers read blogs, read this: One day I WILL get to the Ukraine. And when I do? Be afraid. Be very afraid.
2. I need to spend less time writing and more time teaching Little Daughter how to spell.
3. You shouldnt try to get things for free. Not even dream dogs.
4. The only way I'm getting a Siberian Husky dog is if Santa brings me one.
5. If something is too good to be true? Then it's not true.
December 5, 2012
A Week in Samoa
I'm in Samoa - staying with my parents but otherwise completely alone. No Hot Man. No Fabulous Five. I was invited to attend the 2012 SPACLAL Pacific Literature Conference held at the National University of Samoa and I had to give a presentation thingamajig about electronic books and self-publishing and social media etc. It was a great opportunity to meet some amazing Pacific writers...like the Tongan poet Konai Helu Thaman, Samoan poet Rev. Ruperake Petaia, Cook Island poet Audrey Brown Pereira, Fijian poet Darren Kamali and his partner in life and poetry - Grace Taylor. And to re-connect with others who have mentored and inspired me...poet and academic Selina Tusitala Marsh and writer Emma Kruse-Vaai. I just wanted to absorb their creative wonderfulness by being in the same Samoan fale/house with them...but I even got to chat with them...have dinner with them...talk writing with them...fan the same flies away from our lunch...
This was my second SPACLAL conference. Dr Sina Vaai invited me to be on a Writer's Panel at the SPACLAL conference in 2004. I was terrified because I hadnt written any books then and the short stories I HAD written - I was submitting to journals everywhere using different made-up names so nobody would know I'd written such rubbbish. In 2004, I felt like a big fat liar sitting next to REAL writers who were brave enough to write their REAL names on their writing. Fast forward to now. I didnt feel like such a big fat liar. And I even had some books with my REAL name on them. But - it didnt really help. Because I was still terrified. And freaked out about presenting. It didnt help that I wore a stunning puletasi which was so stunning it was a heat trap. And I was sweating in a puddle of humidity. And when I stood up to present, I was soooooo hot that my glasses fogged up. And I couldnt see anybody. And so I had to take them off. And then I REALLY couldnt see anybody. (which was maybe a good thing.) But talking about electronic books and self-publishing was kinda like setting off a bomb in that gathering because lots of the writers present hadnt heard of such stuff and had never considered there might be another way to get their stories out to the world. I left the conference with lots of requests from people wanting to learn more about this publishing avenue.
Some of the highlights of the week for me?
*Meeting Konai Helu Thaman who knocked down many walls for Pacific women writers. Listening to her explain the background inspiration for her poem, 'You the Choice of my Parents' - which tore at my 14yr old heart and fervent imagination when we studied it in English class.
*Hanging out with Selina Tusitala Marsh, the rockstar NZ/Samoan poet who is the coolest, funnest woman in literature. EVER. ( I mean, heck, the woman does kickboxing. And runs half-marathons. And can apppreciate fun, fantasy 'trash' fiction. Can't get much cooler than that!) We bonded over Nalini Singh novels at the last Writers Festival we went to and I had to laugh at her presentation on 'Afakasi Women in Pacific Lit'...because while she included an analysis of my TELESA book, she also livened up everyone's day with lots of cover-pics from Singh's romance/erotica books. Woohoo! (and you thought my book had a hot cover.)
*Listening to Tunumafono Apelu Aiavao, (a silver-haired, very distinguished gentleman) talk poetry. And tell us about 'that night...back in 1970's...when we were having a few drinks together with Konai Helu Thaman...and she danced for us...and I couldnt sleep that night thinking about her beauty...so I wrote a poem about her body and its sensual swaying in the night...' And then reading that poem for us and others. The discussion that followed was a welcome reminder for me that I shouldn't be as freaked out as I have been, about writing about sensuality as a Pacific woman. All these other groundbreaking Pacific writers have been doing it for ages. I don't know if the rules are different for Pacific WOMEN...but be prepared for a lot more 'freedom of expression' in my next books.
*Performing a reading of my blog at the Poetry Evening. I'm a rule breaker who doesnt write poetry so instead I go to a poetry recital and read blog extracts instead. And tell everyone about Skanky Ho's in West Auckland and the sad fact that no, they are not serving Diet coke and Doritos at the gym. It was my first time to do a reading from my blog and it was a blast. I had so much fun with it and the audience seemed to enjoy it as well. Although Rev. Ruperake Petaia was on next after me and he had to say, "I feel like the severe grandfather figure who must tell you all to stop laughing and screaming hysterically and attempt to inject some sombreness and gravity to the occasion" Performing did give me an idea though - I'm going to video more of my blog pieces and get them up on YouTube. (that should really embarass the Fab5. Which of course is always my goal in life.)
*The food. Yeah, yeah, yeah. So I'm superficial like that. But you know me well enough by now to know that everything is about food. The conference was catered by Taro King and they make the bestest refreshments. They even put lolisaiga powder on their fresh pineapple. (Which makes them worthy of celestial honors in my estimation.) My week in Samoa would not have been complete without oka and fried breadfruit from Paddles Restaurant. Sashimi and pok'e from Amanaki Restaurant. Octopus in coconut cream (faiai fe'e) from Netties MiniMart. Cream puffs from PlantationHouse High Tea. Lychee, mangoes and papaya from the trees outside. Bananas in coconut cream (fa'alifu fa'i) from Siaosi's shop. Hunks of hot bread and slabs of melting butter. And keke pua'a. And pineapple pie. Everything tastes better in Samoa. I'm not sure why...
*The creative battery recharge. I savored sunsets on the Apia Harbor seawall. Delighted in sand and sun and the lilting sounds of the ocean. Mused on all the colors of a tropical garden - fiery fuschia, pert pinks, raging reds, solemn greens, velvet purples... Chickens nestled in a cozy cluster on the doorstep. Even the busy heat, dust and dirt of a crowded day in Apia. All of it refreshed and rejuvenated my writing fire. I'm so ready to write write write now...
This was my second SPACLAL conference. Dr Sina Vaai invited me to be on a Writer's Panel at the SPACLAL conference in 2004. I was terrified because I hadnt written any books then and the short stories I HAD written - I was submitting to journals everywhere using different made-up names so nobody would know I'd written such rubbbish. In 2004, I felt like a big fat liar sitting next to REAL writers who were brave enough to write their REAL names on their writing. Fast forward to now. I didnt feel like such a big fat liar. And I even had some books with my REAL name on them. But - it didnt really help. Because I was still terrified. And freaked out about presenting. It didnt help that I wore a stunning puletasi which was so stunning it was a heat trap. And I was sweating in a puddle of humidity. And when I stood up to present, I was soooooo hot that my glasses fogged up. And I couldnt see anybody. And so I had to take them off. And then I REALLY couldnt see anybody. (which was maybe a good thing.) But talking about electronic books and self-publishing was kinda like setting off a bomb in that gathering because lots of the writers present hadnt heard of such stuff and had never considered there might be another way to get their stories out to the world. I left the conference with lots of requests from people wanting to learn more about this publishing avenue.
Some of the highlights of the week for me?
*Meeting Konai Helu Thaman who knocked down many walls for Pacific women writers. Listening to her explain the background inspiration for her poem, 'You the Choice of my Parents' - which tore at my 14yr old heart and fervent imagination when we studied it in English class.
*Hanging out with Selina Tusitala Marsh, the rockstar NZ/Samoan poet who is the coolest, funnest woman in literature. EVER. ( I mean, heck, the woman does kickboxing. And runs half-marathons. And can apppreciate fun, fantasy 'trash' fiction. Can't get much cooler than that!) We bonded over Nalini Singh novels at the last Writers Festival we went to and I had to laugh at her presentation on 'Afakasi Women in Pacific Lit'...because while she included an analysis of my TELESA book, she also livened up everyone's day with lots of cover-pics from Singh's romance/erotica books. Woohoo! (and you thought my book had a hot cover.)
*Listening to Tunumafono Apelu Aiavao, (a silver-haired, very distinguished gentleman) talk poetry. And tell us about 'that night...back in 1970's...when we were having a few drinks together with Konai Helu Thaman...and she danced for us...and I couldnt sleep that night thinking about her beauty...so I wrote a poem about her body and its sensual swaying in the night...' And then reading that poem for us and others. The discussion that followed was a welcome reminder for me that I shouldn't be as freaked out as I have been, about writing about sensuality as a Pacific woman. All these other groundbreaking Pacific writers have been doing it for ages. I don't know if the rules are different for Pacific WOMEN...but be prepared for a lot more 'freedom of expression' in my next books.
*Performing a reading of my blog at the Poetry Evening. I'm a rule breaker who doesnt write poetry so instead I go to a poetry recital and read blog extracts instead. And tell everyone about Skanky Ho's in West Auckland and the sad fact that no, they are not serving Diet coke and Doritos at the gym. It was my first time to do a reading from my blog and it was a blast. I had so much fun with it and the audience seemed to enjoy it as well. Although Rev. Ruperake Petaia was on next after me and he had to say, "I feel like the severe grandfather figure who must tell you all to stop laughing and screaming hysterically and attempt to inject some sombreness and gravity to the occasion" Performing did give me an idea though - I'm going to video more of my blog pieces and get them up on YouTube. (that should really embarass the Fab5. Which of course is always my goal in life.)
*The food. Yeah, yeah, yeah. So I'm superficial like that. But you know me well enough by now to know that everything is about food. The conference was catered by Taro King and they make the bestest refreshments. They even put lolisaiga powder on their fresh pineapple. (Which makes them worthy of celestial honors in my estimation.) My week in Samoa would not have been complete without oka and fried breadfruit from Paddles Restaurant. Sashimi and pok'e from Amanaki Restaurant. Octopus in coconut cream (faiai fe'e) from Netties MiniMart. Cream puffs from PlantationHouse High Tea. Lychee, mangoes and papaya from the trees outside. Bananas in coconut cream (fa'alifu fa'i) from Siaosi's shop. Hunks of hot bread and slabs of melting butter. And keke pua'a. And pineapple pie. Everything tastes better in Samoa. I'm not sure why...
*The creative battery recharge. I savored sunsets on the Apia Harbor seawall. Delighted in sand and sun and the lilting sounds of the ocean. Mused on all the colors of a tropical garden - fiery fuschia, pert pinks, raging reds, solemn greens, velvet purples... Chickens nestled in a cozy cluster on the doorstep. Even the busy heat, dust and dirt of a crowded day in Apia. All of it refreshed and rejuvenated my writing fire. I'm so ready to write write write now...
November 19, 2012
The Next Book Out Soon
I'm working to finish the Daniel novella in time for a Christmas release. One thing I love about writing Daniel? He's got a sense of humor that Leila lacks and he can be WAY more fun to write... Here's his take on the Jason's hospital confesion scene from the first Telesa book.
*******************************************
Daniel Tahi Speaks.
By the time I get to the door of Jason’s room, Leila is standing by his bed. He’s awake. His eyes are a brilliant blue. And they’re staring up at my girlfriend with undisguised joy. He’s not some washed out, frail palagi nerdy scientist anymore. No. He’s stronger, he’s smiling. And while I stand there in the doorway, he kisses her hand. WTF?! And then he speaks, “I wasn’t joking, Leila. They tell me I’ve been dying for the last three days. And trust me, I felt like it. But you know the one thing that kept me hanging on? The one thing I kept fighting for?”
I know what the answer is before he says it. Because it would be my answer too if I were in his shoes. (Or in his hospital bed.) And it's that realization which is the only thing stopping me from punching a hole in the wall right now. Oh yeah, and because its seriously uncool to beat up people when they’re recovering from knocking on death’s door.
“You. And my promise to you.” I knew it. He’s crazy about her. And I just helped save his life. Just great.
Leila’s crying. “Jason, no…”
I want to get the hell out of there but I can’t. Im frozen in place because I want to know what she’s going to say. I need to know. Is this where she wakes up to the fact she’s crazy in love with this volcano man and his ocean eyes? Is this where she turns to me and says, sorry Daniel, I have to listen to my heart. And my heart is screaming Jason’s name?
He’s still talking. Why can't he shut up already? “No, please, let me finish. Let a critically ill dude speak. Please?”
Yeah Leila, let him speak. We all want to hear this. Not.
“Leila, you asked me to be your friend. And nothing else.” That was news to me. It's good news right? I’m reeling here. Trying to stay upright but the world is determined to knock me over. “And I am. But nearly dying does something to a person y’know? It makes him realize that life is short. And you have to grab at every moment, every happiness with both hands. Tight. And not let go.”
I’m going to grab onto his neck. Tight. And not let go.
“So yes, I’m your friend and I'm one hundred percent committed to helping you deal with your problem. But you gotta know…”
Here it comes. Here it comes. Wait for it. Brace yourself. You must not beat up a sick man. You must not beat up a sick man in a hospital bed. You must not beat up a sick man...
“I’m in love with you Leila.”
There, he said it. Now I know what getting hit by a truck must feel like. I wonder if Leila knows I'm standing right here. And then I'm sure she knows. Because she tries to shut him up. “Jason, no, you don’t know what you’re saying. You’re sick. You need to rest. Listen to your nurses.” She’s covering for him. Trying to salvage something from the wreckage. But what? My heart? My pride? Or his?
For a critically ill dude, he sure is tough to shut up. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life. I’ve loved you from that first night you bewitched me with your fake bimbo-ness. And then when I watched over you as you slept during that storm, then I was sure.”
You. Slept. With. Leila. (During a storm?! Why a storm? What does a storm have to do with this?)
The words hit me where I don’t want them to. Low. In the gut. Everybody in the room heard him. Leila heard him. The palagi friends heard him. The nurses heard him. ( They’re rolling their eyes at the love drama. Nurses at the Samoa National hospital are not known for their sensitivity or patience with people’s feelings.) Everybody just heard him declare his undying love for my girlfriend. Everybody now knows that he’s been in love with her since forever. And oh yeah, by the way, they spent the night together too.
I’m either the world’s dumbest boyfriend. Or this volcano scientist’s mind is seriously screwed up from telesa poison.
Daniel Tahi's Novella will be released in time for Christmas 2012. Available in e-book format only from Amazon.
*******************************************
Daniel Tahi Speaks.
By the time I get to the door of Jason’s room, Leila is standing by his bed. He’s awake. His eyes are a brilliant blue. And they’re staring up at my girlfriend with undisguised joy. He’s not some washed out, frail palagi nerdy scientist anymore. No. He’s stronger, he’s smiling. And while I stand there in the doorway, he kisses her hand. WTF?! And then he speaks, “I wasn’t joking, Leila. They tell me I’ve been dying for the last three days. And trust me, I felt like it. But you know the one thing that kept me hanging on? The one thing I kept fighting for?”
I know what the answer is before he says it. Because it would be my answer too if I were in his shoes. (Or in his hospital bed.) And it's that realization which is the only thing stopping me from punching a hole in the wall right now. Oh yeah, and because its seriously uncool to beat up people when they’re recovering from knocking on death’s door.
“You. And my promise to you.” I knew it. He’s crazy about her. And I just helped save his life. Just great.
Leila’s crying. “Jason, no…”
I want to get the hell out of there but I can’t. Im frozen in place because I want to know what she’s going to say. I need to know. Is this where she wakes up to the fact she’s crazy in love with this volcano man and his ocean eyes? Is this where she turns to me and says, sorry Daniel, I have to listen to my heart. And my heart is screaming Jason’s name?
He’s still talking. Why can't he shut up already? “No, please, let me finish. Let a critically ill dude speak. Please?”
Yeah Leila, let him speak. We all want to hear this. Not.
“Leila, you asked me to be your friend. And nothing else.” That was news to me. It's good news right? I’m reeling here. Trying to stay upright but the world is determined to knock me over. “And I am. But nearly dying does something to a person y’know? It makes him realize that life is short. And you have to grab at every moment, every happiness with both hands. Tight. And not let go.”
I’m going to grab onto his neck. Tight. And not let go.
“So yes, I’m your friend and I'm one hundred percent committed to helping you deal with your problem. But you gotta know…”
Here it comes. Here it comes. Wait for it. Brace yourself. You must not beat up a sick man. You must not beat up a sick man in a hospital bed. You must not beat up a sick man...
“I’m in love with you Leila.”
There, he said it. Now I know what getting hit by a truck must feel like. I wonder if Leila knows I'm standing right here. And then I'm sure she knows. Because she tries to shut him up. “Jason, no, you don’t know what you’re saying. You’re sick. You need to rest. Listen to your nurses.” She’s covering for him. Trying to salvage something from the wreckage. But what? My heart? My pride? Or his?
For a critically ill dude, he sure is tough to shut up. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life. I’ve loved you from that first night you bewitched me with your fake bimbo-ness. And then when I watched over you as you slept during that storm, then I was sure.”
You. Slept. With. Leila. (During a storm?! Why a storm? What does a storm have to do with this?)
The words hit me where I don’t want them to. Low. In the gut. Everybody in the room heard him. Leila heard him. The palagi friends heard him. The nurses heard him. ( They’re rolling their eyes at the love drama. Nurses at the Samoa National hospital are not known for their sensitivity or patience with people’s feelings.) Everybody just heard him declare his undying love for my girlfriend. Everybody now knows that he’s been in love with her since forever. And oh yeah, by the way, they spent the night together too.
I’m either the world’s dumbest boyfriend. Or this volcano scientist’s mind is seriously screwed up from telesa poison.
Daniel Tahi's Novella will be released in time for Christmas 2012. Available in e-book format only from Amazon.
November 12, 2012
Skinny (NaNoWriMo) is for Fools
So Im doing this NaNoWriMo thing where hundreds of thousands of people the world over sign up to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. It's so massively huge that probably even Martians are doing NaNo. It's my first time doing it. In theory, its a fabulous concept. You commit to sitting down and just WRITING every day to meet a set word count. You commit to NOT editing along the way. NOT judging the quality of your words. NOT allowing yourself to get bogged down by the lust for perfection that usually slows your words down. No, you are just going to write until you have an entire first draft of a fascinating novel by the end of November. I'm thirteen days into NaNo and I have come to the conclusion that doing NaNo is JUST LIKE going on a diet.
1. You tell everyone you're doing it so that you can be held accountable. You tell your kids. Your partner. Your dog. Your sister. Your mother. Your dentist. Your next door neighbor. Everybody on Facebook and Twitter. "Im going to write my next book in only 30 days. How amazing is that!" And it IS amazing. And you're amazing. And everything in the world is aglow with amazingness.
2. Then you make lists. Schedules. Plans. Of everything you're going to eat - I mean everything you're going to do to make writing happen.
3. For a diet, you get a scale. You weigh yourself. You measure your blubbery bits. Shock, horror at how blubbery they really are with the lights on. You note it all down, 'This is where I started!' Heck, maybe you even take a photo. Holding a newspaper with the day's date so you can be like those skinny gym freaks with their BEFORE and AFTER photos. (dont you just hate those people? Get away from me.) Same thing with NaNo. You have to measure your progress. Count your words everyday . There are charts and stat measurements so you can track how wonderful you are compared to everyone else who's doing NaNo. Or how suck you are compared to everyone else who's doing NaNo.
4. And just like a brand new diet, everything feels great the first few days. Maybe even the first week. You're eating those salads and lean cuts of chicken, delighting in those steamed vegetables and turning your nose up at those disgusting cinnamon rolls dripping with cream cheese icing. You're even repulsed by the sight of OTHER people eating THEIR fried chicken and fries. 'Ewww. So gross. Don't they know how many fat grams are in that?' You are on a stairmaster straight to skinnified heaven baby and there aint nuthin gonna get in your way. That's how I was feeling about my NaNo journey. Churning out those words like they were on an assembly line of awesomeness. Ideas just exploding everywhere with creative sweetness like a mouthful of MnM's. Paragraphs that went on forever with effortless ease, in delicious loops and swirls of creamy goodness. I was the Kick-Ass Writer of a Kick-Ass novel. Sing it loud. Sing it proud.
5. And then, that diet skids, crashes and burns. You are so sick of being on it that you want to rent out Burger King and have a foodfest party. All by yourself. Just you and burgers and fries and unlimited Coke refills and donuts and pie. You are so sick of your exercise goals that you dont even want to walk to the mailbox. You just want to sit on that sofa and chuck cabbages at it. You dont care how fat you are. You dont care how skinny you wanted to be. Skinny is for fools who have nuthin better to do with their time than count calories. Trim and toned is for losers who cannot comprehend the inexpicable joys to be found in doing NOTHING. And eating EVERYTHING....
Yeah, well thats exactly how Im feeling about my NaNo comittment right now.
Because I've written 26,000 words to date. Just past the halfway point. And I'm sick to death of being a writer. I dont want to be a writer anymore. I changed my mind. I hate it. I hate storytelling. I hate Daniel and Leila and Simone and all the rest of those horrible young adults in my book. What do they really know about love and life anyway?
And just like a diet, you get mad at people who care about you and are trying to help encourage you to stay committed to your goals. The Hot Man used to gently remind me, 'are you supposed to be having cereal?' Yes, it's healthy, isnt it? I snarl. He perseveres, "Yes but not when you're having three bowls of it at ten o'clock at night. With heaps of sugar." And then of course I hate him for saying it. And am convinced its because he thinks I'm fat and hideous. Because I conveniently forget that it was my idea to start a diet-exercise program in the first place.
I wish I never told anybody I was doing NaNo. Because I walk into my house after a day in my office and those children that I gave life to harass me, "So how many words did you write today?" And when I tell them, they shake their heads in disapproval, "But didnt you write more yesterday?" Yeah, so. "So what happened? Why didnt you write twice a many words today? What are you doing in your office all day mum?" And then I hate them all for asking. And of course its all their fault I'm doing this stupid NaNo thing anyway...
And then you're so depressed about your journey and your stupid goals that you simply must drown your sorrows in chocolate lamingtons. With cream. Or in the case of NaNoWriMo - you simply must go to your blog and write a thousand words.
About how much you hate writing.
How's everybody else's NaNo Journey going? Shall we meet up and exchange word counts over Donuts?
1. You tell everyone you're doing it so that you can be held accountable. You tell your kids. Your partner. Your dog. Your sister. Your mother. Your dentist. Your next door neighbor. Everybody on Facebook and Twitter. "Im going to write my next book in only 30 days. How amazing is that!" And it IS amazing. And you're amazing. And everything in the world is aglow with amazingness.
2. Then you make lists. Schedules. Plans. Of everything you're going to eat - I mean everything you're going to do to make writing happen.
3. For a diet, you get a scale. You weigh yourself. You measure your blubbery bits. Shock, horror at how blubbery they really are with the lights on. You note it all down, 'This is where I started!' Heck, maybe you even take a photo. Holding a newspaper with the day's date so you can be like those skinny gym freaks with their BEFORE and AFTER photos. (dont you just hate those people? Get away from me.) Same thing with NaNo. You have to measure your progress. Count your words everyday . There are charts and stat measurements so you can track how wonderful you are compared to everyone else who's doing NaNo. Or how suck you are compared to everyone else who's doing NaNo.
4. And just like a brand new diet, everything feels great the first few days. Maybe even the first week. You're eating those salads and lean cuts of chicken, delighting in those steamed vegetables and turning your nose up at those disgusting cinnamon rolls dripping with cream cheese icing. You're even repulsed by the sight of OTHER people eating THEIR fried chicken and fries. 'Ewww. So gross. Don't they know how many fat grams are in that?' You are on a stairmaster straight to skinnified heaven baby and there aint nuthin gonna get in your way. That's how I was feeling about my NaNo journey. Churning out those words like they were on an assembly line of awesomeness. Ideas just exploding everywhere with creative sweetness like a mouthful of MnM's. Paragraphs that went on forever with effortless ease, in delicious loops and swirls of creamy goodness. I was the Kick-Ass Writer of a Kick-Ass novel. Sing it loud. Sing it proud.
5. And then, that diet skids, crashes and burns. You are so sick of being on it that you want to rent out Burger King and have a foodfest party. All by yourself. Just you and burgers and fries and unlimited Coke refills and donuts and pie. You are so sick of your exercise goals that you dont even want to walk to the mailbox. You just want to sit on that sofa and chuck cabbages at it. You dont care how fat you are. You dont care how skinny you wanted to be. Skinny is for fools who have nuthin better to do with their time than count calories. Trim and toned is for losers who cannot comprehend the inexpicable joys to be found in doing NOTHING. And eating EVERYTHING....
Yeah, well thats exactly how Im feeling about my NaNo comittment right now.
Because I've written 26,000 words to date. Just past the halfway point. And I'm sick to death of being a writer. I dont want to be a writer anymore. I changed my mind. I hate it. I hate storytelling. I hate Daniel and Leila and Simone and all the rest of those horrible young adults in my book. What do they really know about love and life anyway?
And just like a diet, you get mad at people who care about you and are trying to help encourage you to stay committed to your goals. The Hot Man used to gently remind me, 'are you supposed to be having cereal?' Yes, it's healthy, isnt it? I snarl. He perseveres, "Yes but not when you're having three bowls of it at ten o'clock at night. With heaps of sugar." And then of course I hate him for saying it. And am convinced its because he thinks I'm fat and hideous. Because I conveniently forget that it was my idea to start a diet-exercise program in the first place.
I wish I never told anybody I was doing NaNo. Because I walk into my house after a day in my office and those children that I gave life to harass me, "So how many words did you write today?" And when I tell them, they shake their heads in disapproval, "But didnt you write more yesterday?" Yeah, so. "So what happened? Why didnt you write twice a many words today? What are you doing in your office all day mum?" And then I hate them all for asking. And of course its all their fault I'm doing this stupid NaNo thing anyway...
And then you're so depressed about your journey and your stupid goals that you simply must drown your sorrows in chocolate lamingtons. With cream. Or in the case of NaNoWriMo - you simply must go to your blog and write a thousand words.
About how much you hate writing.
How's everybody else's NaNo Journey going? Shall we meet up and exchange word counts over Donuts?
November 9, 2012
106 Minutes of Sexual Intimacy
I always suspected I was a bad mother/wife/woman. And now I just had it confirmed. Some scientists ( with nothing better to do with their time than find ways to make me feel bad), did a study on "What a Woman's Perfect Day Would Consist Of." And the results? Went a little something like this -
106 minutes of sexual intimacy
82 minutes of socializing with family and friends
78 minutes of relaxation with friends and family
75 minutes of eating with family and friends probably
73 minutes of prayer and/or meditation
68 minutes of exercise with friends
57 minutes of phone time talking to friends
56 minutes of shopping
55 minutes of watching TV .....and so on.
I read this and I'm like...are you out of your freakin mind? Is that really what you women out there in the world of scientific studies want, dream of, lust for and long for? You're REALLY coveting 106 minutes of sex/intimacy? Please tell me you just said that because your Significant Other was looking over your shoulder when you filled out the nosey-poker form? And are you HONESTLY wishing for socializing with your kids, your family, your friends a close second? Or did you just write that because it would earn you points in heaven?
Because if this list looks like what YOU would write - then I'm a very bad woman. And very very alone in my bad-ness.
Because MY idea of a perfect day would go something like this...
1. Wake up to a completely empty house. Redolent with quietness. Because everyone has fed themselves, dressed themselves and taken themselves to other very important places , very far away. Like school. Or the planet Mars. And they didn't leave a mess either. They all made their beds, washed their own clothes, vacuumed the house and scrubbed the shower. Because they're super-wonderful like that.
2. Go to a cafe and eat breakfast. An omelette with mushrooms, ham and tomatoes. Lots of maple syrup. The Hot Man can come to breakfast too. (But he cant have any of my omelette. He would order waffles with ice cream. So then I can eat some.)
Then in no particular order, I would do any/all the following...visit a spa and have a massage, manicure, pedicure. Read a book, by myself. Write 5,000 words on my latest project. By myself. Bake cookies, by myself. MAYBE go to lunch with a friend or two. Drink Diet Coke, by myself. Listen to Eminem, U2, Phillip Phillips, Norah Jones and stuff like that, by myself. Go water walking at the pool, by myself. Go to a movie. Eat a chocolate lamington.
And yeah, I guess I would also engage in "Sexual Intimacy" - BUT NOT FOR 106 MINUTES - because I don't care how amazing sex is, that's just way too long to be naked and sweaty and acrobatic. I mean, get real, a zumba class is only 50 minutes of cardio. And I find it difficult to be smiley and look alluring and remember to breathe for that long, all while contorting one's body to music. Without falling over. (And that's WITH clothes on.) So, sex can be on the list but it wouldnt be number one on there.
My ideal day would also include my children. In there somewhere. Like maybe a few blessed minutes before they go to sleep. Like when they're already fed, dressed and have done all the dishes and their homework, then we would read stories together. One hug, One kiss. And then 'Good Night!' The Fabulous Five are most fabulous when they're going to sleep. My 'perfect day' doesnt look much like the scientific study.
No. Because I'm a freak who likes her personal space. To herself. Which means, I dont want to spend the bulk of my ideal day WITH OTHER PEOPLE. Not even people I love desperately. An ideal day would have lots of good food, good books, good music.
And most of all, SPACE. Lots and lots of space. Just for ME. To wallow in. Dance in. Delight in. Get drunk on.
Like I said. I'm a bad wife. Bad mother. Bad woman.
Clearly, I'm going straight to hell. I hope they have isolation cells for people like me.
So whats high on YOUR list for YOUR perfect day?
106 minutes of sexual intimacy
82 minutes of socializing with family and friends
78 minutes of relaxation with friends and family
75 minutes of eating with family and friends probably
73 minutes of prayer and/or meditation
68 minutes of exercise with friends
57 minutes of phone time talking to friends
56 minutes of shopping
55 minutes of watching TV .....and so on.
I read this and I'm like...are you out of your freakin mind? Is that really what you women out there in the world of scientific studies want, dream of, lust for and long for? You're REALLY coveting 106 minutes of sex/intimacy? Please tell me you just said that because your Significant Other was looking over your shoulder when you filled out the nosey-poker form? And are you HONESTLY wishing for socializing with your kids, your family, your friends a close second? Or did you just write that because it would earn you points in heaven?
Because if this list looks like what YOU would write - then I'm a very bad woman. And very very alone in my bad-ness.
Because MY idea of a perfect day would go something like this...
1. Wake up to a completely empty house. Redolent with quietness. Because everyone has fed themselves, dressed themselves and taken themselves to other very important places , very far away. Like school. Or the planet Mars. And they didn't leave a mess either. They all made their beds, washed their own clothes, vacuumed the house and scrubbed the shower. Because they're super-wonderful like that.
2. Go to a cafe and eat breakfast. An omelette with mushrooms, ham and tomatoes. Lots of maple syrup. The Hot Man can come to breakfast too. (But he cant have any of my omelette. He would order waffles with ice cream. So then I can eat some.)
Then in no particular order, I would do any/all the following...visit a spa and have a massage, manicure, pedicure. Read a book, by myself. Write 5,000 words on my latest project. By myself. Bake cookies, by myself. MAYBE go to lunch with a friend or two. Drink Diet Coke, by myself. Listen to Eminem, U2, Phillip Phillips, Norah Jones and stuff like that, by myself. Go water walking at the pool, by myself. Go to a movie. Eat a chocolate lamington.
And yeah, I guess I would also engage in "Sexual Intimacy" - BUT NOT FOR 106 MINUTES - because I don't care how amazing sex is, that's just way too long to be naked and sweaty and acrobatic. I mean, get real, a zumba class is only 50 minutes of cardio. And I find it difficult to be smiley and look alluring and remember to breathe for that long, all while contorting one's body to music. Without falling over. (And that's WITH clothes on.) So, sex can be on the list but it wouldnt be number one on there.
My ideal day would also include my children. In there somewhere. Like maybe a few blessed minutes before they go to sleep. Like when they're already fed, dressed and have done all the dishes and their homework, then we would read stories together. One hug, One kiss. And then 'Good Night!' The Fabulous Five are most fabulous when they're going to sleep. My 'perfect day' doesnt look much like the scientific study.
No. Because I'm a freak who likes her personal space. To herself. Which means, I dont want to spend the bulk of my ideal day WITH OTHER PEOPLE. Not even people I love desperately. An ideal day would have lots of good food, good books, good music.
And most of all, SPACE. Lots and lots of space. Just for ME. To wallow in. Dance in. Delight in. Get drunk on.
Like I said. I'm a bad wife. Bad mother. Bad woman.
Clearly, I'm going straight to hell. I hope they have isolation cells for people like me.
So whats high on YOUR list for YOUR perfect day?
November 8, 2012
I am Sad
Something incredibly sad happened the other day. Like soul-shredding sad. Like eat two lamingtons in a row sad.
The Bella Beast turned five. And started at Big Girl School. In a uniform with a matching hat and shoes and everything.
I hate it when the Fab5 reach certain milestones. Big Son's first dance. Big Daughter's first Sunday moving into the church Youth program. The day Little Daughter turned eight and got baptized. Hate it all. Because it means they're taking another step away from being mine. From being the baby, the child, the person that needed me more than anything else, anyone else in the universe. The start to becoming these people who actually have opinions. And disagree with me. And no longer believe that I know everything.
But what made Bella's birthday even more crushing for me, was the recognition that this will be the last time I will ever usher a baby from my uterus into school. Bella is my very last baby. There can't be anymore ( not even accidentally) thanks to the wonders of medical science. As I kissed her goodbye and watched, she walked down the driveway with her Dad and it was like the end of so many things.
My last baby is a Big Girl. And I am sad.
The Bella Beast turned five. And started at Big Girl School. In a uniform with a matching hat and shoes and everything.
I hate it when the Fab5 reach certain milestones. Big Son's first dance. Big Daughter's first Sunday moving into the church Youth program. The day Little Daughter turned eight and got baptized. Hate it all. Because it means they're taking another step away from being mine. From being the baby, the child, the person that needed me more than anything else, anyone else in the universe. The start to becoming these people who actually have opinions. And disagree with me. And no longer believe that I know everything.
But what made Bella's birthday even more crushing for me, was the recognition that this will be the last time I will ever usher a baby from my uterus into school. Bella is my very last baby. There can't be anymore ( not even accidentally) thanks to the wonders of medical science. As I kissed her goodbye and watched, she walked down the driveway with her Dad and it was like the end of so many things.
My last baby is a Big Girl. And I am sad.
October 31, 2012
There are Some Skank Ho's in West Auckland
There are some skanky ho’s living in West Auckland. And they aint got no shame. At all. But what makes it worse? Little Son thinks those skanky ho’s are wonderful, delightsome creatures…
The Hot Man was being kind and thoughtful. He took all the children off my hands so I could write. (Yay for the Hot Man.) He delivered teenagers to their Youth activity. And then he scored himself points in Little Kid’s heaven by taking them to McDonalds’s for dinner. (Even tho we already had a healthy balanced dinner for them at home. Yay for the Hot Man.) He sent the Terrible Trio to go play in the playground while he sat guard over their Happy Meals. I must interject here and tell you that I got all the following info from my spies. They’re highly trained, dedicated sleuths. Otherwise known as Little Daughter and Bella Beast. Now on with my tale.
Picture it...There's the Hot Man, minding his own Hot business...when along comes a pretty, skinny-yet-luscious, single mom, busting out of her clothes with abundant friendliness. (As skank ho's do.) She lights up like a Xmas tree at the sight of the Hot Man and descends upon him. Introduces herself, tells him about her divorced single-mom state. Tells him how much she loves to make new friends. Meet new people. Try new things. Go out partying when she's not skankin at McDonalds.
He tells her he's married. She thinks thats wonderful! He tells her he's got five kids. She thinks thats precious! He tells her he's just taken over as the full-time parent, taking care of the kids while his wife is writing. She thinks thats just darrrling!
She then goes for gold. (As skank ho's do.) "I'm free during the day too! We should totally get together and hang out!" (Can you tell that I'm punching holes in my laptop as I write this with viciousness and repressed volcano fury?)
At this moment, Little Daughter and Little Son come running over because they have seen this friendly exchange taking place. As this skank ho tries to jump their Dad's bones right there in the Family Restaurant. The woman is not deterred. Oh no. She oozes slimy charm. "Are these your children? Ohmigosh they're soooo adorable! Hi kids!"
Little Daughter ( bless her devoted heart) is unimpressed. Suspicious. She sidles up to the Hot Man, whisper, "Dad, why is this woman talking to you so much?"
Little Son on the other hand, reveals his true traitorous nature and revels in the skank ho's affections. She GIVES MY FREAKIN' BETRAYER SON A HUG AND HE LIKES IT. He nudges the Hot Man with a grin, "Dad, who's your girlfriend? She's so pretty!"
The woman is encouraged by his comment. She asks the Hot Man for his phone number. (HELLO! WHAT THE HELL KINDA WORLD IS THIS WHEN CHICKS CAN USE THE GOLDEN ARCHES TO LIGHT UP THEIR "VACANT and HOT" SIGN?!) The Hot Man refuses. She tries to give him HER number. He refuses. Little Daughter is not happy. "Dad, why does she want your phone number? Why is she hugging Zach?"
Somehow they manage to extricate themselves safely from the woman's clutches. She waves at them as they drive off. "See you again!"
They come home to the writer who's been slaving her fingers to the bone surfing banana cream pie recipes on AllRecipes.com. They tell her about what happened. Little Daughter is indignant. "My Dad kept telling her no and she kept trying to give him her phone number!" Little Daughter is only ten but already she can spot a skanky-seductress-homewrecker-trashy tart a mile away. I am going to leave her lots of things in my will. Like all my banana cream pie recipes. And my extensive Telesa tattoo research. And lots and lots of love with ice cream and chocolate sauce on top.
I am really annoyed with Skank-Ho's that hang out at McDonalds jumpin on other people's Hot Men. I'm not a Fire Goddess like Leila in my Telesa books, but I'm sure I could get all fierce and feisty and kick-ass with this woman if I could meet her in person. I could like....ummm...attack her with my words. Waste her with witticisms. Mash her with metaphors. Amaze her with alliteration and analogies and really scary stuff like that. So there, so there. Take that.
I told Hot Man I was going to blog about her and he was horrified. "No don't. What if she reads your blog? You cant call people skanky ho's on your blog!" I said, "Dont be ridiculous. Skank-Ho's dont read. Blogs. They're too busy slut'ting all over the place and having a good time with idiots who fall for their crap."
But you know who I'm REALLY mad at?
Little Son.
Traitor. Selling his own mother out for a pretty face and a sleazy smile.
October 25, 2012
Snakes, Cakes and Cars
Quick update from Sydney... I've been doing book stuff in Australia for the past week. Started in Brisbane last week and am just finishing up here in the beautiful Sydney. You can read about it here: Samoa News
Lots of new experiences for this Hermit as she gets out and about...like -
1. Telesa Book Cakes in Sydney. A special surprise from Sydney launch sponsors,Nia and Sean of LNS Mobile Mechanics. Made by Melicious Cake House. I'm embarassed to tell you that I felt a bit tearful to see them. As a cake-addict, how awesome is having your books recreated as cakes?! (cue girly scream here.)
2. You know those super-cool cars that rappers (and gangsters and mobsters...cough cough) drive? The ones that bounce and adjust up and down, making noises like the Transformers? They're called 'low-riders' but I like the name "Flow-Riders." Me and the Hot Man got transported to the Sydney launch in style by the Uso Car Club, courtesy of Poreta Mariner. Everywhere you go in one of these cars, people stop and stare. And when you pull up to a red light and the driver starts making the car do that UP-DOWN move, people start filming the car and cheering and getting rather excited. It was a defn first for me. I must confess tho that riding in such a vehicle is NOT conducive to fabulously styled hair because they drive with the windows down and the wind is blowing everything to bits. And the padded ceiling in the car is really low and your head keeps getting knocked about and all the hairspray in the world cant stop that hairstyle from getting messed up. I arrived at the launch party looking like a storm had swept through me....
3. In Brisbane I was reminded why - as a kid - I always said I would NEVER go to Australia...snake phobia! The fabulous and funnny M.C for the launch night, Gau had a snake trying to crawl into her garage on the night we met up for a planning dinner. All she had to do was show me this picture and I was trying NOT to leap up onto the table, just in case one had decided to slither all the way into the city...into the restaurant...into the pot-plants next to us. I was on high alert for the rest of the trip.
More updates to come...gotta go out for dinner on our last night here in Sydney.
Lots of new experiences for this Hermit as she gets out and about...like -
1. Telesa Book Cakes in Sydney. A special surprise from Sydney launch sponsors,Nia and Sean of LNS Mobile Mechanics. Made by Melicious Cake House. I'm embarassed to tell you that I felt a bit tearful to see them. As a cake-addict, how awesome is having your books recreated as cakes?! (cue girly scream here.)
2. You know those super-cool cars that rappers (and gangsters and mobsters...cough cough) drive? The ones that bounce and adjust up and down, making noises like the Transformers? They're called 'low-riders' but I like the name "Flow-Riders." Me and the Hot Man got transported to the Sydney launch in style by the Uso Car Club, courtesy of Poreta Mariner. Everywhere you go in one of these cars, people stop and stare. And when you pull up to a red light and the driver starts making the car do that UP-DOWN move, people start filming the car and cheering and getting rather excited. It was a defn first for me. I must confess tho that riding in such a vehicle is NOT conducive to fabulously styled hair because they drive with the windows down and the wind is blowing everything to bits. And the padded ceiling in the car is really low and your head keeps getting knocked about and all the hairspray in the world cant stop that hairstyle from getting messed up. I arrived at the launch party looking like a storm had swept through me....
3. In Brisbane I was reminded why - as a kid - I always said I would NEVER go to Australia...snake phobia! The fabulous and funnny M.C for the launch night, Gau had a snake trying to crawl into her garage on the night we met up for a planning dinner. All she had to do was show me this picture and I was trying NOT to leap up onto the table, just in case one had decided to slither all the way into the city...into the restaurant...into the pot-plants next to us. I was on high alert for the rest of the trip.
More updates to come...gotta go out for dinner on our last night here in Sydney.
