Swoonworthy

In an attempt to make it look like I'm still alive, I'm going to put up a couple linky posts here so interested 'Net friends can check out what I've actually been doing. ANSWER: More of the same, only somewhere else. And SLIGHTLY less asinine.

Here I talk about trying to achieve A Swoonworthy Debut. It's not as easy as one would think. You can't just be like, "And then she saw him. And he was really hot. No, like, he was REALLY hot."

Brett Kiger

SUPER hot.

So if you're interested, ch-ch-check it out.

Until next time. Unless I get hit by a bus. Or engulfed by the flames of my swoonworthy protagonist.

Bonus Gibbet Items!

I have strayed once again over to EMU's Debuts, so if you are interested in those ramblings, head on over by clicking here!

As a super special extra thank you for visiting me here on the mothership, I'll give you an exclusive eyeball at the photo I refer to in the EMU post with No Googling Necessary!

Trying to appear interesting, or trying to appear conscious? You decide.

As a super extra added megabonus bonus, here's a crappy photo of the awesome publicity poster for The Man Who Laughs:

I do not have any pictures of the gibbet, but it's possible I will be able to procure some. Stay tuned!

UPDATE: GIBBET

Complete with shoes and emotionally scarred child!

EXCUSE ME, I HAVE SIX JOBS

I'm sorry, internet friends. That title is a little hostile. And it's also a lie. I did have six jobs this summer, which was exactly as insane as it sounds, but now I am down to two. The truth is, I am a bit frustrated at how neglected this blog has been lately, because everyone knows that every time a blogger you've never heard of posts a picture of her head pasted onto a bowl of cereal, an angel gets his wings.

And look at what I was planning! The epic post that never was! I have no idea what any of those promises I made in my last post mean. All I can do is cobble together my idea of what a Paul the Psychic Octopus might look like:

SEE? I DID ACCOMPLISH SOMETHING TODAY, MR. WHISKERS. STOP JUDGING.

The long and short is that I got picked up by an agent, and now I have a two-book deal, which has kind of been running my creative life for a while.

http://cdn.cutestpaw.com

Take that cat picture. It's not even my cat. And why is it there? I envisioned it being my little kitty cheerleader, like YAY! BOOK DEAL! But the longer you stare at it the more manic it looks. Now it's kind of freaking me out.

"I'm so proud of you, I could poke your eyes out with toothpicks and suck on them like lollipops! LOL!"

Anyway, I'm in the midst of revisions and stuff. Like, literally, manuscript 3.0 is printing and I've got highlighters on deck, just like a Real Writer. HIGHLIGHTERS.

Will keep you posted.

THAT WAS A PUN.

And if you're interested in more of my rantings, head over to EMU's Debuts and peruse my debut post. I tried so hard to be more coherent than usual, and somehow still ended up pasting my head onto stuff.

Coming Soon

READ ALL ABOUT IT!

New post coming soon, guaranteed to include the following:

midnight

symphony orchestra

name tag

Paul the Psychic Octopus

bugs

Canada

THIS IS WHY VIGILANTE JUSTICE IS A THING

This week, an online friend of mine exacted vigilante justice on a stranger who threw eggs at him from a moving vehicle. While it is not my story to tell, let's just say it ended with a punch in the face.

Today, I also felt vigilante anger.

As you know, I lead a stressful and important life. On any given day, I may have to write something, get dressed, stay in a crappy hotel, or take pictures of my cat.

Sometimes I just need to get away from it all. This is why I do pencil puzzles in the bathtub. But today, internet friends, my relaxing pencil puzzle bath time was absolutely basulaned.

You see, I was working on a puzzle called "Letterbox." You're given several boxes with two letters each, and you must combine them to make words in a box shape.

Here's my progress:

I'm usually pretty good at word puzzles. Not a master, but no neophyin either, and it frustrated me that I wasn't getting this one. I puzzled and stared and rearranged and puzzled some more. The bath water grew tepid, then cold, as I made no move to remove myself to more comfortable surroundings, like a reverse lobster. The lavender bubbles died small, quiet deaths. Still I puzzled. The dog and her gas decided to keep me company, and I puzzled on.

Finally, immersed in flat, cold water and surrounded by dog farts, I decided to do something I never do.

I decided to look at the answer.

It's not that I never give up. I often come across puzzles I'm too stupid to finish, but I just leave them incomplete. Utterly baffled, I turned to page 89, and the truth was revealed to me:

It's enough to make even a mild-mannered person like me go into a neckspin. Or punch someone in the face.

My Indefatigability is Inspiring

As I work on my next post, in which I have, like, actual stuff to say about words, I thought I would fill you in on the heroic life I have been leading this month. First off, yes, I used the word indefatigability in the title of this post. That in itself is inspiring, even though I got it from the Thesaurus under "perseverance," which I spelled wrong. You're welcome.

I got so much stuff done this month. I did a bunch of freelance editing. I designed some ads for clients. I went through my fonts, and you should know that I have amassed awesome fonts. Don't even talk to me unless you have the Thundercats font, and we'll start from there.

I took this picture of my cat, Bert. I Gordon, who just sneezed cat boogers all over me as I typed that.

It kind of looks like he has five legs.

Then I got plague, which my body decided to fight by coughing up everything inside itself, including what I believe were a couple major organs and possibly a femur. And because comedy is everything, my body decreed that this process would be accompanied by the whimsical call of the Canada Goose, emanating from my ravaged esophagus. But fear not, dear ones -- because of half a bottle of Ny-Quil my indomitable spirit, I realized that, instead of being diseased, I was actually being enhanced.


I was being granted the powers of the Canada Goose.

Ah, the majesty.

Then Goose Plague and I went to the city to sing the Beethoven Missa Solemnis at a copyrighted location I like to refer to as "Flarnegie Hall."

It was kind of a weird couple days.

We sang in the back row of the chorus, right on top of the enormous speakers for the organ.

WE HEARD A LOT OF ORGAN.

Then home again, jiggity jig, at which point I decided to play Mass Effect 3 broker world peace, which I think we can all agree is working out nicely.

My latest triumph in the face of adversity has been dusting off my bootstraps, or whatever the young people are saying nowadays, after possibly having been rejected by my favorite blog.

That's right. I submitted a portrait to Nic Cage As Everyone, and it has yet to appear. In fact, I have yet to even receive a response to my inspiring email: "This is Nic Cage as a molecule of adamantane."

And yet, my friends, we persevere! We indefatigate! We suffer the honks and arrows of outrageous organs!

Yeah, Bert I. Gordon says it's bedtime.

Inspiration

I do most of my writing in my head as I'm falling asleep or waking up. If I come up with something particularly brilliant, I sometimes manage to muster the capacity, in my barely conscious state, to jot it down.

I thought I would share with you the results of a particularly fruitful session I had this week.

cat eyes are freaking me out


how to kill the parents. windmill?


can we use "motherf$@#er" in a middle grade?


ears


I'm sleeping with him. No, it's midnight. You have to flee.


we think we can make you a dress


rats in clothes. those are poops.

photo

Yes, literary gold. Don't you dare steal my ideas, hosers.

By the way, internet search engines, I feel it's important for you to know that when I search for "rats wearing clothes," the following things should not, in fact, be deemed relevant matches. To be helpful, I have reclassified them for you:

raggyrat

"Bunnies holding hands."

photo

"Mars rover."

photo

"Spider."

photo

. . . well-played, internet. Well-played.