Holy Crap, I just saw Condi Rice!

Okay so not quite. Although, it was one of those moments where, sitting in the tiny coffee shop downtown I looked up at a woman walking away from the counter and thought, "OMG it's Condi, I have to give that woman a piece of my mind while I have a chance," before realizing that it was just a Condi-look alike (yes, they do exist)

It was the hair that fooled me. The perfectly coiffed, perfectly straightened, glossy, not a wave in sight (or an ounce of movement for that matter) hair that threw me off.

Really, is it natural for a woman's hair to be SO still all the time? I speculate that Condi in a windstorm would look exactly the same as she looks standing at the podium wagging her finger at some country we have no business wagging fingers at.

Common Sense chimes in, "What the hell is Condi Rice doing in a tiny coffee shop in downtown Sacramento?"

Right. This is what happens when you have an overactive imagination. I suppose I've got Condi on the brain because I was (again) recently asked to interpret her behavior. As though because we share vaguely similar melanin levels I have the slightest clue why she chooses to be a mouthpiece for the village idiot and his cronies. What do I look like? The damn black people code breaker?

Me? Questions about her politics (and sanity) aside, I'm busy just trying to figure out what in the world is going on with that hair.

Back to work.

I'm writing, I'm really, really writing!

Okay so make that an edit/rewrite story I dug out of a trunk (literally: all my shit's in storage at the moment and I have to dig through piles to find ANYTHING)

For the record, this is actually the shortest story I have ever written -- thereby making it a short story, not a novelette. Working title (and you know how bad these are coming from me, so apologies in advance) "The Pickup"

Coming to a Miscue near you.

Other things under the pen:

Muchos, Muchos cover letters.

And reading:

I started the novel "Staying Dead" which is published on the Luna imprint of Harlequin, because I'm mildly interested to see what titles a romance publisher considers sf/fantasy with a romantic bent.

So far, I'm beginning to believe there is some truth to the idea that when mainstream (and other genres) publish something remotely sf/fantasy, it's decidedly behind in the been there, done that factor. The speculation being that because they haven't seen the "PI with magical/supernatural powers dealing with magical/supernatural cases" story done a hundred different ways they think anything in that category is interesting/exciting.

And it reads like a romance writer stuck some fantasy elements (tired, overdone fantasy elements) and called it done. Not even a very compelling "who done it."

I'm over it already and I'm on page 10.

Then again, who am I to crit? Nobody's publishing me yet.

Right, back to work.

It's getting late...

I am tempted to describe a horse as being, "out of its mind with terror."

Tomorrow it will undoubtedly become a "terrified horse," or better yet, a good description of how a horse would behave surrounded by fire. Terrified. Minus that word.

Right now, it's the unmistakable sign of a mind out wandering past bedtime in rough draft land.

I *SHOULD* be writing...

But this just looked like fun....



(I used a photo from my first week at CW, apparently it works best if generated repeatedly with several differnt photos and see which celebs pop up most often...)

Home at last, home at last...

(at least, my familial home)

Unpacking, opening mail, checking blog, scanning the stories I was submitting before I left.

Finding new things to sharpen up, tighten and otherwise tweak.

Assessing best potential markets. Updating Sonar.

Back to Work.

Life is good.

My ipod just shook its picture

I updated my ipod software last night.

It deleted all of my music.

Yes.

At first I attempted, quite rationally, to "find" the lost music.

A technology savvy fellow CWer tried to explain: "Do you know what format 'C' is?"

Bleary eyed, I looked up from my laptop.

Then, in language I would understand: Remember an etch-a-sketch? You drew a picture. When you were done you shook it, and the picture went away. Yeah, your ipod just shook the picture."

Goodbye river rat bluegrass. Good bye Tori Amos European b-sides. Goodbye local bands and mash-ups.

Buuuhhh-waaaaaaahhhhh!

Little Miss Sunshine

Where have I been?

How did I manage to miss a movie this good? If you haven't seen Sunshine yet, you'd better hurry -- I think it's almost out of theaters everywhere.

I laughed so hard people looked at me funny. I laughed while crying. I laughed so hard my belly hurt.

It left me with a distinctly non slimy Hollywood-feel-good-by-emotional-manipulation, good feeling -- pleasant surprise.

Quite possibly the best movie of the year. At least mine. What's yours?

Back in the Saddle

After a fun filled, exciting summer (in which far fewer words were written than previously anticipated) I'm back and ready to get down to business:

1. YEAH, new design! You know me, the blog design junkie. Keeping it simple, but classy. I am not down for the massive amounts of maintenance required for the wholely personalized layouts of days past. And I do love blue.

1. Shorter format. I'm starting a new job this fall and then there's the writing. Less time for longer posts, but that's probably a good thing. Will keep things short and sweet. Unless I need to rant, of course.
2. New Tips, Reading and Eddie-isms! So while I didn't get a lot of writing done this summer, I did actually get in a lot of writing RELATED activities. Which DEFINITELY count.
3. New LINKS! Yeah, Eddie catches up with the times: I'm blogrolling as a way to keep up with my favorite blogs -- and introduce them to you. Also look forward to Write Grrl being technorati'd still to come.