Who Is Raising These Kids?

A pet peeve of mine happens to be rude kids. Children who simply have NO sense of acting properly within society. Over and over again I have kept running into this as I was raising (still am with the 16 yr old) my children.

Now I'm not saying my kids were/are perfect. They're not. No one is. Not even me--though I come close...lol The other day I went through the drive-thru at Wendy's for a grilled chicken sandwich for The Boy. I had zoned out and the girl at the window was trying to give me the bag of goodies which I didn't see.
Once I realized this, I simply grabbed the bag and handed it to The Boy. He gave me this stern WTF look and told me I should have apologized for leaving the girl hanging like that.

I'm rolling my eyes here. Yeah, at some point my just-don't-give-a-damn works more than fine. I tried to explain to the boy that I was tired and cranky and it was just a small oversight on my part, but he was having none of it. We ended up getting into a heated argument with me on the stupid side, of course.

You can't teach a kid to have respect for all, to use social skills in every setting, and then fail miserably at it. He'll call your ass on it every time. He informed me at record pace that a minimum wage burger flipper's feelings were just as important as a high-priced attorney or a cop trying to give me a ticket.

Well...he was right and I was wrong.

In the meantime, he has friends galore who are in and out of my house who are rude and quite frankly socially inept. I have a new neighbor who is socially inept. I'm surrounded by people/kids who simply don't know how to socialize. One of the boy's friends has something to say for every single thing I say. He thinks he is correcting me. He's not, but it's weird. He comes across as this know-it-all who knows nothing and constantly embarrasses himself. Another one uses my house like it's his own. Last weekend I found him in my bedroom lying across my bed talking on his cell phone. He said he had needed more privacy. I keep my handbag complete with wallet in that room. I wasn't happy. He's also the same kid who used The Boy's toothbrush and brush. Uh huh... Caught him in the act.

Another kid saw that I had a load of clothes washing and stripped out of his and tossed them in--then exited the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel and a smile. I can't tell you the number of times I've sent a text message to The Boy asking him to come downstairs because "we need to talk".

Bottom line? I keep asking him where he's finding these kids. He keeps telling me that all kids are like that. I keep saying "so you use other people's toothbrushes and wash your clothes at will and go and get into their mother's bed when you're at their house?"

To which he replied: "I'm not normal. I'm the exception. I'm too well-mannered and don't exactly fit in. But this is high school and I'm just hanging out. Just chill and keep telling me when they do something stupid. I'll keep them in line."

Okay.

Next?

This weekend I realized that I had become a taxi for about a half a dozen kids. My entire weekend was shot all to hell because of me giving rides to and from home--to and from the park, the mall, and movies, to all of The Boy's friends. That stopped Sunday afternoon at 4 p.m. when I declared myself exhausted. So I informed The Boy and he said he understood. Said he realized that I was doing everything and other parents were simply ignoring their kids and didn't give a damn where they were or who they were with or how they got there.

And that said it all.

Why are these parents not more involved in the lives of their children? Hell yeah they may be 16 but that doesn't equate to FINISHED!!!! There are two of The Boy's friends who have asked to come and live with us. No, they weren't joking. It was pitiful. They flat out told me that their parents had no time for them. For the first time in my life, I honestly didn't know what to say. I remained quiet for the longest time.

I hope I said all of the right things to these boys. Informed them that time gets away from you. That their parents loved them but work and general responsibilities involved with day-to-day life can really take up a lot of room in a person's life. I suggested they try talking with their parents. Try watching a movie with them and engaging them in conversation. I said a lot. But I was ill-equipped to deal with it really. Shocked.

My kid says he's lucky--even though I can be a pain-in-the-ass. lol He says sometimes I am just too involved in his life. I just looked at him and told him to get used to it. 'Cause it sure as hell ain't gonna stop any time too soon--hmmmm...maybe when he's 80. LOL

Everybody's A Redneck After A Six-Pack

I have in-law issues. Never suspected I would, but I do. I’m a nice person. Not too judgmental. Well…unless someone is showing their stupid side. I hate stupid.

So my middle child is WITH child and about to marry what I thought was a very nice man. And he is in some ways. He’s a good provider, and for the most part, good to her. However, he’s very controlling and is a major know-it-all.

Their courtship was “whirlwind”. Two months into the relationship and she was pregnant. Okay, I didn’t say a word. Not a word. From the time they met up until about three months ago, he would get mad with her while shopping and storm out of the store and leave her. Yes, leave her stranded. She’d call me and I’d drive to wherever she was and bring her home with me. We’d wait until he got over his pissiness and he’d come and get her. This happened a total of five times, and I never said a word.

Until number six.

That last time was IT as far as I was concerned. He pulled up on the side of the road in front of my house and waited for her to come out. But that time, I went out with her. You see, I never wanted to stick my nose in their business, but I finally decided that if I was going to be forced to deal with his shit, then I had a right. So I walked around to the driver’s side and laid it on the line for him.

“You will not leave my pregnant daughter stranded again. Do I make myself clear?”

He said, “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

And that was that. Things have gone smoothly between them since. But then he needed an outlet for his anger I guess. Because after that they’d come to visit and he seemed to have developed the most condescending attitude. And worse.

Not only does my soon-to-be son-in-law think that Southerners are all rednecks and don’t have sense enough to get in out of the rain, but he’s a damn bigot, too! What has my child gotten herself into?

On two separate occasions before this last one on Saturday, I had to break up arguments between him, my boy, and my oldest daughter. According to him, both of them are on their way to Bubba University because A) they are from the South and are too stupid to live, and B) they support a political platform he doesn’t (namely any program designed to help the poor).

In other words, my kids and I are REDNECKS.

He’s from New York, a perfectly lovely state I’m sure. I’ve only been to NYC and only a couple of times for short visits at that. So I can’t really say I’d like or dislike living there. He’s been in the South for two years now and says he is making money hands over fists because Southerners are just plain dumb. But he hates the South and mocks everything about it.

I swear to you… I have held my tongue to the point of biting it. I’ve done this because for some odd damn reason my baby girl loves this freaking idiot. And she’s pregnant with his baby. Which means stuck.

So Saturday when I was informed they were coming for a visit (they live about thirty-five minutes away), my stomach knotted. I stayed mad all damn day. I kept remembering some of the things he’d said on previous visits and my blood simply boiled. At the same time, I tried not to be angry for the sake of my girl. What’s a MOM to do?

Five o’clock rolled around. They were due at six. I drove three blocks to the local convenient store and bought a six-pack of Bud Light Platinum. You know the ones—in the pretty blue bottles.  I came into the house, my treasure in hand, and got this from my brother:

“You think that’s a good idea?”

“I’m only going to have a couple. For my nerves. I’m tied up in knots.”

“You should just let me—“

“I know, I know. Bitch slap him a few times and bring him into line.”

I sat down with a beer as my oldest came downstairs.

Her eyes widened. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m only having a couple to take the edge off before they get here. I’m afraid if I don’t I might snap at him.”

She nodded slowly, and then looked at my bro. “This is gonna be good.”

He agreed. I left them in the living room and got on the computer for a while. Once I had finished the second beer, they arrived. But that was okay. Two beers on an empty stomach can really put you in a mellow mood. Sure can. So I was all smiles when they walked in. Hugs and kisses all around. I swear to you…I was good to go.

And then he started talking about the Hispanic guys that work for him.

I popped the top on another beer. And noooooooooo…did not offer him one. My oldest ran upstairs to get her brother. Later I was told that she informed him the show was starting and he was going to miss it.

By BEER FOUR, we were fully engaged. By BEER SIX I was threatening to punch him in the damn nose. They left with his threats of:

1) You are not allowed in the delivery room when the baby comes

2) You will never see my son

3) Don’t call my house or think you can come by when I’m at work

4) You’re no longer a part of our lives

Okay. I messed up. But after a six-pack, EVERYBODY IS A REDNECK!

Am I worried about his threats? Hell no. He’s a WUSS. Wild horses and ten SEAL TEAMS couldn’t keep me away from my baby girl and her baby. He just doesn’t realize that when he tapped into my REDNECK roots, that he tapped into the QUEEN!

I still think I should have punched him. My brother still says I should have let him do it.

The boy and my oldest daughter? They filmed it all with their phones. I have threatened to cut them out of my will if any of it ends up on You Tube.

‘Nuff said.

Bad Haircuts

Has anyone had a good haircut/style lately? I haven't had one in about ten years now. I don't know what the problem is but it can't be communication. I was very very specific about the length of my hair and that it should touch my shoulders. VERY SPECIFIC.

I left the shop thirty-five dollars poorer and hair up to my freaking ear lobes.

As I said, the last good haircut/style I had was about ten years ago. When I went back to the same stylist two months later she effed my hair up. Could not give me the same cut or style. I brought a picture with me, too.

Am I the only one who has this problem? For the last three or four years now, I have just let my hair grow quite a bit before giving in and getting it cut. I wait nine or ten months. I had to do it this time because I had started putting my hair up in a pony tail cause it was so damn long and always in the way. And that gave me a freaking headache. sighhhhhh

I hate my hair. And yes, it will grow. And yes, I'll try again in another nine or ten months. But if I tell another stylist that I want my hair touching my shoulders and she cuts it up to my damn ears?????

I AM NOT GOING TO PAY!!!!!!!!!!!

Moving in and Looking Around

 

 As most of you know, I've moved to Florida from my beloved Texas and I've been in the process of starting my life over again. This has been a sad but exciting journey and things are finally smoothing out a little bit. At the moment I'm living in a nice, roomy apartment with my daughter. It's a beautiful place with lots of trees, woodland creatures, birds and some very nice people but still....it's an apartment. For awhile I could only keep my mind on doing what must be done 'today'. I simply couldn't allow my mind to stretch out into the future to see what might be out there. There was furniture to buy, a kitchen to stock. I mean, I had to get EVERYTHING and that's a tough job. My mind simply reeled from all the things that had to be done in order to make my new little place a home.

A home? Well, I'm getting there but this apartment isn't my own.  We're comfy and settling in. We have beds and everything we really need still before now I haven't been able to think past immediate concerns. Today, finally, I think I'm in a place where I can look ahead a little bit. I've been trying to figure out lately where I want to live on a more permanent basis. A house, condo or townhouse? After living in an apartment for a few months and having a young child living in the apartment just above I already know that I don't want common walls. Uh uh. Not happening.

In the end, I think a cozy house will be the perfect thing. Today I'm heading out to take a 'walk-through' one of them. From internet pics the place looks lovely. Nice neighborhood, the right amount of living space, etc. So yes, I'm excited to get a peek. Since I tend to be cautious about these things, I'm fairly certain this will not be the only house I check out. Several neighborhoods have caught my eye so I'm sure the next few months will be busy.

Between househunting and writing (YES...WRITING) I'm getting there and already sowing the seeds for my new life. I'll keep you posted.

Clandestine Classics: IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME!

Okay, I’m going to confess something right off the bat here. I am not, nor have I ever been, a fan of the so-called classics. Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, Sherlock Holmes, etc., were never high on my list of must read recommendations for anyone. I found the books to be incredibly boring.

Why?

Probably because I’m an action junkie and probably because I like reading sex scenes. Which, of course, is why I fell in love with Kathleen Woodiwiss romances from day one and why I like thrillers.

For those of you who love the classics—good for you. Nothing wrong with liking them. Just not my cup of tea. But now we have Clandestine Classics—classics such as Jane Eyre and Sherlock Holmes with sex scenes added—and I’m pretty excited about that.

Maybe now that the novels have been modernized, I can take another look and find what I need to give me a satisfying read and at the same time appreciate what others saw all along. Now I understand that when these tales were originally written there could be no sex. Society would have beheaded the authors if they had. LOL So who’s to say those authors, had they been living today, would not have included passionate, open-door sex?

Clandestine Classics is offered to readers by Total E-Bound Publishing. Click HERE for a list of titles. Those classics are in the public domain and anyone can use them. So what Total E-Bound did was to find some ab fab authors to take a few of these books and add some very sexy word count. You might also be interested in knowing that you’re not being charged for any word count other than what the Total E-Bound authors have added.

There’s been a whole lot of hoopla over these books. Some people are outraged that the classics have been touched. I read a blog post a couple of days ago in which the blogger claimed that this generation is warping society. LOL I know a couple of the authors who are involved in Clandestine Classics. Both are lovely ladies. Desiree Holt, who took on the task of sexing up Jane Austin’s Northanger Abbey, is a veteran writer of erotic romance with over a hundred books published—and she is a SILVER BEAUTY!!! 

Sarah Masters, the author who added heat to one of Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes tales, is an amazing individual. She writes under three or four different pen names and just blows me away with her writing talent. She’s also the best cover artist around. And she’s a MOM, wife, and a beautiful woman with incredible highlights in her hair that I’ve got to talk to her about (I want them. LOL)

Neither of these authors are warped nor are they warping society. LOL If you don’t want to read the books, don’t buy them. It’s simple.

I’d also like to mention that these books didn’t happen as a result of E.L. James and Fifty Shades of Grey. I am so tired of hearing about that book I want to scream. Does everyone really think that book was the first erotic romance on the market? It certainly seems so. No one is trying to capitalize on that book’s success. HELL!!!! Everyone is just trying to make a buck just like we’ve been trying to do for years! So just to make it clear, Fifty Shades of Grey did not start some literary sexual revolution.

We’ve been doing this for years.

As a matter of fact, if it wasn’t for Ellora’s Cave, the largest publishing company of erotic romance and erotica in the world, e-books wouldn’t be such a big thing now. That’s right. I give full credit to Ellora’s Cave. Isn’t it just lovely that everyone jumped on the e-book bandwagon? Must have been all of those people reading sexed up books that did it, huh? LOL And the vast majority are women, too. SCANDALOUS!!!!

Clandestine Classics are available for you to purchase today. That’s right. It’s release day. Here’s the link: http://www.total-e-bound.com/prodtype.asp?CAT_ID=306&sb=bt&ntt=3&so=all

Now here’s a little request for Total E-Bound:

How about a little Robin Hood and Maid Marian? And I would kill for some scorching hot sex scenes between Rhett Butler and Scarlett O’Hara---but I’m sure there are copyright issues there. SIGHHHHHHHHHHH… Guess I’ll always have to simply imagine Rhett’s sexual prowess.

Congratulations to authors:

Sarah Masters, Desiree Holt, Sierra Cartwright, Amy Armstrong, Marie Sexton. And to Total E-Bound for finding yet another way to put erotic romance on the map!  

The Search for Inspiration

It doesn’t matter what kind of artistic, ‘creative-type’ you might be. Painter. Writer. Sculptor. Actor. Musician. We all need inspiration to make what we do not only  cohesive but beautiful. We are people who make things happen creatively and without inspiration, even our best efforts can fall flat. Finding something that moves us is the key to unlocking the dreams and imaginings we want to share with the world…or maybe even just a small part of it. These days you’d think that would be an easy feat but it’s not as simple as you might think. Let’s face it, we’re busy people living in a world that races rather than walks from one thing to the next.

Maybe the most important key to discovering what moves you is to simply observe. Listen to the radio when you drive. Pay attention when walking through a mall or hanging out in a park. Watch the world around you and find those things that make you say…ahhhh. Those things are the makings of the next major piece of art, a beautiful song or a book that makes a reader sigh.

I’m beginning to think finding inspiration is just a matter of slowing down, taking stock and dragging a few deep breaths into my lungs. Finding a center, a peaceful place deep inside is key to my becoming inspired. Lately, I sit on the back porch in my search for motivation. This is where I get my best ideas, where plots evolve and plans for a book are born. Recently, I’ve relocated from my beloved Texas to sunny Florida and the view from my back patio is spectacular. Orange trees, red birds, lizards and yes, the occasional snake colors my world and in watching them, I gain peace and feel a renewed creativity that I’d believed had gotten lost somewhere along the way. I’ve learned lately that I am motivated by ‘visual’ things. Note the picture of the rugged cowboy and the isolation of his stance. The other day I saw the photo somewhere and knew I ‘had to have him’. Thank God for copy and save because now I know that I can re-visit this guy on my computer and find impetus  for another story of those rough, rugged men of the west. He might be a rancher, a hired hand or even a ‘cowboy shifter’. Who knows where this bit of inspiration might take my next book?

 I’m dying to find out.

Please stop by my website to learn more about me and my books

http://www.reginacarlysle.com

 In other news: Something Wicked This Way Comes, Vol. 2 comes out in print tomorrow at Ellora's Cave.  This book (also available in ebook) features some super hot stories. Tinderbox, my addition to the anthology, is a shifter menage. You know how I love those guys who turn 'furry'. LOL

http://www.jasminejade.com/p-10221-something-wicked-this-way-comes-volume-2.aspx

 

New Places and People; Old Books

Adjusting to that strange new world called FLORIDA is quite the thing ya'll. First off, it's not hot here. Yes, I'm sure the natives would beg to differ but having lived through many a Texas summer, this stuff is not a big deal. The folks back home say the temps are hovering around 105 degrees and positively sweltering. Here in my new place, I'm loving the more moderate stuff. Of course it's humid. Oh dear LORD! Now that's something new but there are definite benefits to that. My hair and skin looks a whole lot better these days. And rainy season? Um. A few weeks ago my daughter and I were shopping for groceries when a thunderstorm hit. Our eyes got big. I mean big. RAIN!!!! Now that's something to celebrate in West Texas so I'm sure the folks at the store wondered why we seemed so damn happy about the deluge of wet stuff. With Tropical Storm Debbie hovering around, we've pretty much been drenched every day and even had to break down and buy umbrellas. Who'd a thunk it????

Settling in good and proper now. We've found the best places for breakfast, lunch and dinner and now where to find the best shopping. What more could a girl ask for? And friends? Yes, I've made a lot of those too. Nice thing, friends. I'm beginning to feel right at home. Hard to believe I've only been here a month.

Now that the settling in has been accomplished and most of my furniture has arrived, I've found the creative energies are beginning to flow again. Getting a divorce and moving clear across the country can have a way of stalling a person out, for sure. But YAY ME...stories are forming and needing to be told. I'm beginning to feel like my "new self"...the old one was pretty fine but this new me is pretty awesome, I think. I'm feeling braver, more sure of myself and yes, more creative. It's a good thing.

And yes...sometimes everything old is new again. Ellora's Cave just re-released my very first EC book at a discounted price. So if you haven't read this one (a hot hot cougar tale) here's your chance to pick it up and give it a 'slow dance'.

http://www.jasminejade.com/p-5785-tempting-tess.aspx

When forty-five-year-old widow Tess Garrity decides it's time to reevaluate her stale life, she rents a charming cabin in the mountains, little expecting her entire life is about to take a drastic turn. She's very drawn and more than a little sexually turned on by the sinfully handsome man next door.

Daniel Rios is captivated by the stunning older woman. She is sweet, funny and sexy enough to make him yearn to fuck her. He wants her more than his next breath but his first order of business is getting rid of an unwanted houseguest. Then Daniel moves in on Tess, tempting her to take another chance on love — with him. It's a naughty, edgy, seductive challenge he is fully prepared to take.

Changing Perspectives

As I mentioned last week, things are really changing in my life. For awhile now, I reckon I'll be discussing this stuff since it's uppermost in my mind. Things are settling in (at last). I still have no living room furniture but that should be remedied in a few more weeks. My sister, who lives here, has loaned me something to use until then. (I KNEW there was a good reason to move close to family...lol...they tend to 'have your back' when needed). The first week any kind of tv-watching was a literal 'pain in the ass' without anything comfy to sit on but now we're managing just fine.

Of course, you know how any kind of move-in is. Disruptive! Anything that can go wrong usually does. We've had minor issues with the apartment and everything we order tends to be a matter of hurry-up-and-wait kind of deal. You know how it is. I suspect that a month from now, I'll have my furniture in place and will have settled in all comfy and cozy.

One thing I have noticed is that my worries over leaving Texas were just silly. Sometimes I think we tend to believe that 'home' is associated with a place rather than with people. I've found folks in Florida friendy, helpful and fun. I've felt so at ease here. A good thing. My smile comes quicker and my writing (yes, I'm writing again) is richer and more complex. If we are surrounded by people we love, it helps bushels. Naturally, I'm missing my son and my mom but hey...who knows? Life has an odd way of changing on us when we least expect it.

New Beginnings

If someone tells you that starting over is easy, don't believe it. Yes, sometimes things go smoothy...great even but most of the time you're so damn unsure of yourself. I'm living this now. After 30 years of being married, I'm getting a divorce and have just completed a 'cross country' move to Florida. Already I miss my Texas and the people and loved ones there and the place will always feel like 'home' to me. But now I have a new one and I'm adjusting as best as I can amid the mountain of unpacked suitcases and boxes. It's getting close to being finished but the whole exercise has left me feeling pretty exhausted (in a good way).

Ending and beginnings. It's tough. All of it. But in the course of all this, I've learned there are good people, friendly people, all around and most are willing to lend a hand to make the transition smoother. Writing these days is pretty tough. Most of the time, my brain is kinda foggy but I'm finding the muck clearing somewhat and I'm actually writing some now. Admittedly, I have great inspiration all around me. From my back patio (empty of any kind of furniture at the moment) I have trees. Lots of trees. One of them is loaded with oranges. Now THAT'S something new for a Texas girl! I've seen mated red birds and even an enormous owl perched in a tree out back. And lizards! Okay, that's familiar but these seem to be a bit more exotic as their throats expand, turning a bright red. Funny. Guess I'll figure out what kind they are soon enough.

Of course, I have NO idea where I'm going. I was given the 'gift' of a map so I've been studying up some. :-) Made it to the grocery store and a few other places. I figure it's a start. Right? Anyway the weather is beautiful and my new place with be livable before I can blink. Mainly, I now have new ideas swimming in my head (scary thought...all that head-swimming) and I'm anxious to start burning up the computer again. A day at a time.

I'm really sorry that I've blogged so sporadically but now you understand, I hope, why I haven't been around much. I must say, it's great to be back.

The Waves, Stars, and Bikers!

Yep, down here in the Myrtle Beach area we just finished up a couple of weeks of Biker Fest. I had heard horror stories about it. Well... turns out it really wasn't bad at all. There was a lot of noise, and I had trouble getting in and out of my street, but all in all it wasn't bad.

The police presence was overwhelming. Never saw so many in one place in my life. State helicopters flew overhead and barricades on residential streets were up. Overall, the police seemed to be in a pretty good mood. They smiled, laughed, and joked whenever you had to go by them in order to get home. And I have it on good authority that one particular dude in uniform got my oldest's phone number. LOL

I did see one biker trying to pop a wheelie on busy busy Hwy 17. He was in the lane next to me and when the stoplight turned green he popped it. Fool came very close to laying down that bike. AND! He wiggled his ass back on--wiggling the bike, too--for a good ways down. If he had fallen? God. I can only imagine the carnage.

The other thing that I had to deal with really only upset me on Thursday night (the 31st). The barricades weren't up yet in my area and bikers used the avenue next to my bedroom window for racing. I didn't sleep all night long. I thought about calling the police but just didn't. I worried someone was going to get hurt. But I also kept thinking that they were only trying to have some fun. You know... YOLO!

YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE!

Last night we walked down to the beach about dusk. There was a guy with a parrot and he put it on my shoulder. I felt like a pirate. LOL I love the smell of the ocean. I just stood there watching those waves and the long shoreline with the twinkling hotel lights. Watched the last remnants of daylight fade to black.The stars are so bright here.

Doesn't get any better than that!

Meet Ninette Swann!!

Hey all! Ninette Swann is a friend of mine who's been in the writing industry for years. Please welcome her as she releases her very first romantic suspense novel! Hit and Stay will be available yesterday at Resplendence.

How to Write a Book When You’re “Too Busy”

I’m a stay-at-home / work-at-home mom and one of the largest battles we face is that we don’t do anything. Our lives consist of trash TV, raising a few super-attached, maladjusted brats, and maybe cooking dinner. If it doesn’t interfere with our bon-bon eating, of course.

You can imagine how upset I was to find that writers face the same nonsense. If you write for a living, apparently you don’t do anything.
Wrong.

Writing is hard. It takes dedication, belief in  yourself, some kind of skill with the English language, and most of all, time. It takes a lot of time.

So, when people say they’d love to write a book, but they’re too busy, I totally get it. If you don’t make time for it, and make time for it consistently, it will never get done. Here are a few ways I’ve found to do it.

1) Put it on your to-do list (mental or otherwise)

I have a real to-do list. On it I place sixteen things I’d like to do each day. It’s a rolling list, so the things that don’t get done stay there until they are done. If “write chapter six” has been on my to-do list for three days, I know it’s time to write that thing or I’ll lose interest in my own project.

One of the biggest problems with writing for the “working” person (or the SAHM, in my case) is that it sounds like fun. It’s a reward. A gift. I can write if I clean all my bathrooms. I can write when I finally finish all my caseloads at work. I can write if. I can write when.

Forget it.

Write now. Make it part of your work, part of your day. You’re not goofing off, you’re working hard on something that will reward you.

2) Get used to interruptions.

I write in six-word intervals. With three-year-old twins, not a sentence goes by before I’m being begged for a snack, or a tissue, or to play a game.

When you write sentence by sentence, with minutes or hours in between, it’s not going to be your best stuff. You’ll have to go back and edit. You’ll find words that don’t belong and thoughts that are jumbled. But if you don’t plod on anyway, if you wait for the perfect six-hour window to write, you never will. Those six hours will never come. You’ve got to seize the moment. Every moment.

3) Forsake immediate goals for overall achievements

So many writers I know set word goals for themselves. I need to write 1,000 words this hour. I need to write 15,000 this week. But they’re only setting themselves up for disappointment. Remember, quality over quantity. If you don’t bust out a 1,500-word scene in the two-hour nap period (or your one-hour lunch break) don’t sweat it. The page will be there waiting for you. It’s more important to get down what you can when you can. And come back to it. You must always come back to it. If you consistently let yourself down by writing slower than you think you should, you’ll be discouraged and lose faith in the work.

Research is important. Tone is important. Sentences and word choice are important. These things take time. If you write 200 words one day, that’s great. That’s what you should be looking at. Those paragraphs get you closer to your overall goal, which is writing a completed work. Don’t lose the forest for the trees.

4) Get up in the morning.

You’ll write better if you do.  I always tell myself, I’ll write a chapter during nap, or I’ll write that scene after the girls are in bed for the night, but the truth is, by nap and bed time, I’m burned out. I’m spent. I can sometimes force myself to write, sure. But it’s not fun. And it’s not as good as it would be were I fresh.
You don’t have to write in the morning. If you’re not a morning person and you actually do better at night, use the extra time to get other stuff done so that it’s not over your head when you finally sit down at the computer. Take a shower, do the dishes, go for a walk, whatever.

Just get up early enough to start your day with some you time. It will center and ground you.

5) Leave your house.

For the particular among us, sometimes there are just too many things to be done around the home to allow for proper concentration. You can’t write because you are too busy tidying or cleaning, or Teen Mom is on your television set. Wouldn’t your time be better spent if you called your mom real quick?

That’s when it’s time to pack up and go out. Go to a coffee shop where you don’t know anyone. Go to a friend’s house who is also writing. You can feed off each other.

The important thing is to get yourself alone with your computer so that you can’t write for a few moments and then check your email, write for a few moments and then IM your sister. You can’t get up to dust that ceiling fan that you always forget about. You have nothing to do but write. There is nothing but you, the coffee and the blank page.

Long story short, nobody is too busy to write. If you want to write, you can find a way. So stop making excuses and get started. You’ll find the words flowing more quickly than you would have imagined possible.

**Ninette Swann is a romantic suspense writer whose debut novel, Hit and Stay, is out now by Resplendence Publishing. She writes in between her gigs as a freelance journalist, editor and mommy blogger—and while wrangling her two adorably sweet angels…or insufferable hellions, depending on the day. You can visit her at http://ninetteswann.com


Thanks for joining me today, Ninette!

Help! I've Fallen And Can't Get Up!

I think I need a keeper. Or to be walked on a leash.

Yesterday morning I fell. I tripped over an extension cord that wasn't supposed to be where it was. sighhhh And down I went. Head-butted an end table, landed on my left knee (leaving rug burns and a bruise), landed on my left hand (spraining the wrist), AND! Slammed my right hand into the end table. My middle finger on that hand is swollen like crazy and can't be moved. I guess that means the symbol of my road rage is out of commission for a while. lol

Anyway, I'm in pain. Typing is not easy. Ouch! So this is going to be short. Here is my question. Don't you just want to slap someone when you fall and get hurt and everyone is laughing?

Heartbeats

This morning I went with my youngest daughter to see her OB-GYN. She'll soon be twenty and she's pregnant. Seventeen weeks pregnant. She's a tiny woman. Five feet tall, tiny bones, tiny hands, tiny feet. So that pudge in her midsection is quite obvious.

And she cries about that. lol

She is soooo worried that everyone is looking at her and thinking she's fat. And it's soooo obvious that the belly is a baby and not a beer gut. We all laugh at her.

The baby is just beginning to flutter inside of her. She feels it but says she's not certain. But it's the baby--letting her know he/she is there, of course. lol We don't know the sex yet. We'll find out on June 13. Today they drew blood and will run all the usual tox screens. That worries her, and I tell her not to worry.

The child is a healthy living nut these days. Orange juice, water, and an occasional iced tea. Baked chicken and fish. Salads, fruits, and veggies. Her weight gain is perfect. And still she worries about the baby.

It wasn't too long ago when I worried myself sick about this child of mine. She was a wild child. Loved to party. She's done a complete reversal and is soooo happy. I guess it just took the right guy for her to love and feel confident in his love. She's an angel now.

My angel is having an angel.

And today I heard the beats of that angel's heart. I cried.

Eye Openers

This has been an interesting week. I went to visit my brother and his family, then came home to have my former mother in law and my ex living in my home while they visited my children. The back and forth emotionally was exhausting. It was worth it in every way.

My brother is someone I've looked up to my whole life. As adults we stopped getting along somewhere along the time he decided I had stopped maturing at twelve (just like I will forever see my little cousins as being preteens, despite the years that have occurred since) and ended up just like my mother. And I, resenting that and having experienced his stubbornness first hand, decided he was a jackass.

What happened was a visit without my parents there to interject, and without the distraction of children so that adult conversation was truly adult conversation. We stayed up late every night to talk. We needed it. By the time I left, my brother stood up, in tears and said, "[Insert my full real name here] I don't believe we've ever met. It's really good to know you." Of course that made me cry too.

That feeling I had when I realized that my ideal childhood wasn't shared by the brother I idolized, that feeling where he'd been stripped away from me and I stood alone on those beautiful memories, alienated from him... they fell away. Now I feel like I've been given back that brother and we're going to be okay. I left the visit with an open invitation to join my sister in law's family at Christmas time when they go to a lodge in the middle of the woods to spend time together. It's like I have a family again. I can't express what that means to me.

The other moment, when I came home to potential disaster, was reaffirming. Even though my ex-mil was a huge influencer in the way the divorce was handled (and that's not a compliment), she got to see some of the things I had to deal with. And I, in turn, got to hear her express her frustration with him, at him. The thing that saddens me is the way the kids have to see it.

I can tell that man is running out of money and friends because he seems to think that telling me he finally appreciates me will make me swoon and run back. Never fear, that's not even a blip of a thought. It's just comical at this point. He thinks we can be friends after the kids leave my home for college. In six years. I told him not to hold his breath because I have no interest in talking to him again once that happens.

I needed this week. It was replete with deadlines and urgent emails, emotional ups and downs, yet in the end I had more reaffirmation than I've had in years. You know what? I'm doing all right. Better than that. I'm doing great and on top of that, I'm happy with the choices I've made. How often do we get to say that?

Love,
Mia

Something New from Regina Carlysle

Change and just general 'busy-ness' has been the order of the day around here. Life gets complicated and yes, messy, and these days, my mind has been occupied on things outside the realm of blogging, writing, etc. I'm in the middle of a major move. Boxes and packing materials are scattered all around. It's probably a good thing that I have this to occupy my mind. Change can be a scary thing and I suspect that if I stopped to really think about it all, I would be terrified. It's tough facing the unknown after so many years of everything being the same. A true test of my 'mettle', I think. Wish me luck!

In other news, I have a new book coming out tomorrow at Ellora's Cave. Tinderbox, set in the world of Jaguar Hunger, is one of several hot little stories appearing in Jaid Black's Something Wicked This Way Comes, Vol. 2. So please whip out your credit cards and pick this one up.

Buy it Here

Available NOW for pre-order.

Barnes and Noble

Amazon Kindle

Will release May 1 on those sites, and May 2 on the EC webstore and other vendor sites.

Fatman & Robyn

Jaid Black

Jake Chamberlin, star quarterback of the New York Bloods, has a not-so-little secret—he’s into chubby chicks. He does all he can to resist temptation, but when Jake bumps into the gorgeous Robyn DiMarco at a bistro in Little Italy, all bets are off.

Scarred and Kilt

Laurann Dohner

Matty has a new neighbor, and she strongly suspects the kilt-wearing hottie is a vampire—he only goes out at night, has weird visitors and the blood bank is making regular deliveries. But he doesn’t seem to hurt anyone, so “live and let live” is Matty’s motto. Until she sees a guy armed with crosses and wooden stakes breaking into the neighbor’s house. Matty charges to the rescue—and ends up in Mr. Hottie’s bed…and on his desk…and…

Tinderbox

Regina Carlysle

Set in the same world as Jaguar Hunger.

Private investigators Nate and Daniel don’t expect to find their mate while working a case. But they recognize Olivia as theirs the second they catch the missing woman’s scent—the scent of a female jaguar shifter in heat. Nate and Daniel’s task? Find then claim Livvy in every raw, animalistic way possible…and release her inner beast.

Asterion

Katalina Leon

Betrayed by her village chief, Larisa is brought to a mysterious island and left bound in a subterranean labyrinth, where drops of her blood summon the mythical Minotaur. She expects the man-beast to take her life…but it’s her body that’s sacrificed. Darron, a shapeshifting being, ravishes Larisa, and she gives herself freely to the pleasure—a decision that will change both their worlds forever.

Book Video

Decadent Dance

Aubrey Ross

Surely the dress Zoe purchased did not transport her to an alien ship, right? No. Hallucinations. Must be. Though…the gorgeous alien who greets her seems real enough. And the sex? Out of this world.

Vaden has waited years for his Decadent Dancer, and though Zoe swears she didn’t know what the dress could do, Vaden has been lonely too long to be easily thwarted. He’ll use every sensual trick he knows to convince Zoe she’s right where she belongs.

Sahara Heat

Diana Hunter

As a favor to a friend, author Carla Braun agrees to meet with archaeologist Josef Anderson to discuss his recent desert find. To her dismay, the man’s infuriating…as well as tall, blond, gorgeous—and into BDSM. If she can look beyond Dr. Anderson’s cool exterior, Carla just might discover some scorching Sahara Heat…

In A Bad Mood Much?

Yep. That would be me. Or at least that's what I'm going to blame it on. Of course, it's very disheartening to think of myself as being in a permanent bad mood. And you'd think that would be enough to snap me out of it. Uhhhhh....NOPE!

Or maybe I'm just a BITCH. (Stop snickering!)

Honestly, though, NOTHING is quite right. From the time I get up in the morning until I finally close my eyes at night, I can find plenty to gripe about. My brother says I need to get laid. I say that I just need to be put in charge of everything... and I mean E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G.

For instance...

Last night I rented The Descendants from Redbox. It's been forever since I watched a really good movie. I simply don't think they make good movies anymore. That's my chief complaint. But for now, I'm going to complain about The Descendants. Now I know the movie was up for an Academy Award or George Clooney was---or maybe both. Hell, I don't know. But there was a lot of media hype about this film and it was supposedly wonderful.

My take? It was okay. Nothing about it GRABBED me. I kept waiting to be grabbed and it never came.

Let's take it apart.

First, let's talk about Clooney. When I see a Clooney performance, I expect something very intense. Even when he's in a somewhat comedic role, I expect intensity. I don't expect a Syriana everytime, but I expect to be impacted somehow by his acting ability. I want to be grabbed. And I also want to grab--mainly his ass.

This time? It was a big fail for me on both ends of the grab. Who the EFF dressed him for this part? The pants made him look boney and as if he had NO ASS!!! The lack of color in his clothing was a big turn off for me. Okay. So you're thinking: "But Tess...that was the way it was supposed to be. He was a colorless-no-ass-kind-of-guy." Really? Yeah, yeah. I get that. But still...I watch Clooney to see Clooney--not just the story. And yep, if they had put him in a nice peach-colored Polo and a pair of tight-fitting jeans I would have been much more satisified. AND!!!!! Couldn't they let him take his shirt off at least once?

I mean, wasn't part of the storyline about his wife having an affair and how bad it was to do that to him? Sure he worked all of the time. But if I had to pay 35K a year for private schools I'd work all the damn time too! My point is this: Would it have hurt to display a little Clooney stuff? I mean, he's portraying a nice guy whose now dying wife was unfaithful to him and he just finds that out. As it was played it comes off as well...
colorless-no-ass-guys deserve to get cheated on.

And WTF did the whole trust and land sale thing have to do with anything? I kept thinking that the affair was somehow going to end up being a conspiracy--something I could get into--something that would grab me. NOPE. And it was nice to keep the land, but... MEH.

It definitely was way cool to see Beau Bridges and Michael Ontkean after all these years. Even if they didn't let Ontkean have a speaking part. And let me just say that the whole voting party with the cousins made no sense if they had no rights anyway. I did like the idea of the little girl possibly going camping with her dad on that pristine beach at some point, though.

All in all, I'd say the movie was a C. I never shed a tear. My heart never warmed up. I was never on the edge of my seat or so engrossed that I couldn't get up and go to the bathroom without putting the movie on pause. Yep, it was worth the buck-twenty-five I paid at Redbox. Definitely NOT worth a pay-per-view fee of four or five bucks and NO WAY IN HELL worth the price of a damn movie ticket!!!

I still love George Clooney. And I loved the dude who played Sid. My fave scene was when Grandpa belted Sid. LOL So give it a watch if you haven't. It's a rainy afternoon kind of movie. Meh.

That's it from me today. See you next Monday!!!

I'm writing

I wish I hadn't squandered all month last month. Burn out does that to you, though. However, I'm now facing the challenge of finishing this book, deep spring cleaning my house, prepping my younger daughter for a three day camp experience with her classmates, and packing for my trip to the east coast. All of that is supposed to be finished by Sunday. I think I'm in over my head.

The spring cleaning is urgent because my ex mother in law is coming to town to watch my kids and generally be a grandma. She lives several states away, so this is kind of a big deal. Plus she hasn't ever seen where the girls live, since the divorce. She needs this. The girls need this. I, however, don't.

She's a neat-freak. And when I mean neat-freak, she's kind of OCD. As in, she once bought a floor model fridge and then complained that there was a tiny, non-dented scratch on the BACK of the fridge even though that's against the wall. She also came over to my spotless home, not only cleaned by me, but then cleaned by Merry Maids before my daughters' birthday parties and proceeded to wash my french door, on her knees, in front of the entire family. Yeah, I was embarrassed. And who I caught crawling around my kitchen floor on hands and knees with a toothbrush and a bucket of sudsy water.

To drive her crazy (I was getting back at her for deliberately undermining me with my children several days in a row, so it was warranted, folks), I gave her gas fireplace a thoughtful look and calmly told her that the tiling above the vent was slightly uneven. That was years ago. She still frowns when she looks at it... or so the girls tell me. It was genius and also mean.

Now she's coming to my place. My place which the previous owners decided to panel the living room. My place that where it isn't paneled is burnt orange and used to have a wallpaper boarder around the chair rail but which I tore down and never pulled off the tiny pieces of paper that stayed behind (because I'm a working single mother, damn it). My place that daily has a fight against ants and where most of my furniture--while, antique--are hand me downs. Hey, I left the guy and my furniture in order to get out. I'm not picky about my "new to me" stuff. My place where I rarely intrude on my daughters' bedrooms to disapprove of their sense of order.

I think this is going to get ugly. I know I'm not messy. I'm just casual. She's not. She literally bends over every day to poke her carpet where it meets hardwood so that the pile looks right. I have peeling linoleum at the base of one of my kitchen cupboards. I also cook and she doesn't. My kitchen is used and while clean, doesn't have the never been used granite or seamless stove tops.

Can you tell where my biggest concern is? Obviously not the away camp, the long flight to the east coast, or the fact that my book deadline is breathing down my throat. Nope. It's the ex-mom.

I think I'll clean like I would usually for this time of year. If she feels compelled to keep going, at least I won't be home to witness it. Too bad they don't sell valium over the counter.

"I don't have time to write!"

When I started writing, I had a two-month-old baby. When he was four-months-old, he came with me to my first RWA chapter meeting, where I breast fed him throughout the entire thing to keep him quiet. That was a long, long meeting. What amazed me, at the time, was the everyone seemed to have the same complaint: "I never have time to write."

Okay, some of these were self-explanatory. There amount of free time in every day is precious and finite; if you spend that time quilting or working on a scrapbook, then no, you're not going to have time to write. There are things we all have to do, like walk the dogs and make sure the house is clean enough to live in. Some people have kids, some don't, and if you fall into the former category, congratulations, you probably have even less time to write. Back in those days, I heard women saying things like, "My husband goes to bed at eleven, so I stay up until one, and then I get up at four, before the kids get up at six, so I can steal some writing time." I used to think, "That's nuts, if you want to write, you can find time without sacrificing sleep." I was doing it, and I had a newborn.

After a while, I realized that people weren't saying, "I have no time to write," but "I have no time to write in the way I want to write." I've heard, many times, "Oh, I can't write. I like to sit down with a glass of wine and no distractions." Or, "I can't write, I don't like where our computer is set up. Anyone could read over your shoulder." The fact that there is no place, on earth or outside of it, that exists without distraction, or that they were writing in hopes of publication (where anyone could read it!) never seemed to crack through the obstacle they'd set up for themselves.

Times... have not changed. This weekend, I sat on a panel at a library event. A woman in the audience asked, "When do you find time to write?" I gave her my honest answer, that you should look for the time to write the way a drug addict looks like a place to shoot up. Here are three ways I've stolen time during the days of my career:

1. Get some kind of recording device and talk out your story. When my son started preschool, we chose one that was, for some stupid reason, a forty-five minute drive into the city. One way. I made use of the drive time by buying a digital recorder and just talking my prose into it. When I'd get home, I'd slap on some headphones and hastily transcribe it. You'd be amazed at how quickly your story fleshes out that way. The most common objection I hear about this one is, "I can't, because I can't stand to listen to the sound of my own voice." If this is you, then I say unto thee, "Deal with it."
2. Keep a notebook with you at all times. If you're waiting at the doctor's office, or you're on your lunch hour, you can write in the notebook. No, you will not look weird. I've seen people balancing their checkbooks in line at McDonald's. You will look perfectly normal.
3. Take one of your hobbies out back and shoot it dead. I love hobbies as much as the next person, but let's get real. Do you "not have time to write" because you'd rather be doing something else? Do you really have to finish that massive cross-stitch project this year? Or spend seven hours a week scrap booking vacation photos? Can you sacrifice any of the time you use on those activities to write? Okay. Then do that.

I don't think it's easy for everyone, in every situation, to find the time to write. But I do think that the moment you say, "I can't, because," you're saying a lot more about your desire to write than you are your schedule. If you want to do something, you can do it. You just have to find a way, and every time you throw "can't" in there, you're throwing up another brick wall directly in your own way.

And please, no getting three and four hours of sleep a night because you think it makes you dedicated. It just makes your brain tired. And there will be plenty of time to have a tired brain once your career is firmly established and you've inevitably over-commit yourself to all the great ideas that sprung up while you finished the first book.

Stop looking at me like that. I don't get up at four in the morning to write. I get up at four in the morning because that's the only time the bathroom is free.

A Nice Evening

Last night I had all three of my kids with me. None of us had seen the middle child in two months. And with the oldest working and not at home except to sleep and eat and the baby boy, lol, in school, and then up in his room listening to
music all of the time... Well...we just don't spend a lot of time together.

But last night we were together along with the middle child's fiance. We had five hours of non-stop laughter. I guess absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder. Usually these kids do nothing but argue with each other. Now that they aren't in each other's face constantly, they get along. LOL I love it.

The addition of the fiance was nice too. He's really sweet and funny. I didn't think anyone would "fit" with my family. But he does. And I am so happy about that. He seems to love me silly, too! He's not shy about showing his affection either. He's a hugger for sure. lol

So some things just work out, don't they?

I'm rushing out the door this morning and wanted to say hi to everyone. I missed blogging last week and have promised myself to NOT dare miss another. I've always liked blogging and chatting with commenters. So next week?? Be prepared for a nice long rant of some sort. lol It's about time I did that!

I hope everyone is happily reading, writing, and editing.

Asses

I feel like discussing them today. That's right. I'm an ass girl. Or a chest girl. I also really like thick wrists and blunt man-fingers... I have a thing for height and shoulders too. I also like men with a little extra on them. Something to hold onto.

Well, okay, I just like men. A lot. I like almost all of them in some way or another. Bald? No problem. Glasses? Who cares? But I digress. This is supposed to be about asses. Why? Because I feel like it.

The best ass I ever saw was a man in a tailored suit. I love men in suits. See above. I was in an airport and this guy with THE PERFECT tailored suit walked by me. Now I have to admit to noticing that he was pretty. Very pretty to begin with. I'd already noticed him. Hell, I'd been staring, to be fair. Then they called the flight boarding sequence and the guy whipped off his jacket and I saw... THE ASS OF ALL ASSES! Unlike most suits, this one was low rise on a pair of beautiful lean hips. The fabric lovingly cupped and draped, without a wrinkle or excess fabric anywhere. His shirt was tailored and tucked neatly into the waistband.

Geez, I nearly groaned. Out loud. I don't know if it was the tailoring on that perfect butt, or the fact that his suit looked high fashioned and negligently hot as hell, but it worked for me. Right to the top of his slightly too long curly brown locks. I would have tapped that in a heartbeat. Like morse code, baby.

And that was two years ago.

I just spent the last thirty minutes on Pinterest looking for hot butts. I've decided my favorites are all in suits. So someone explain to me why I chose to live in an area of town where suits are not standard dress code? I need a be-suited ass in my life. Preferably a tailored one with just a little extra padding on his body so I can hug and hug and hug that man when I look up into his eyes and see him smiling at me.

The end.