You Misunderstand... I Live HERE... I Only Occasionally Visit This 'Reality' You Keep Talking About....

I've recovered from my 'vacation'... mostly anyway. I'm back to work... which seems more like work than ever... and I'm trying not to turn green at the knowledge that my BFF Pippi was down at Nags Head playing in Earl's wind (not that hurricanes are fun... but parts of them sorta are, if no one gets hurt) while I was slogging through ninety-odd degree heat with aching joints (thank you cold front) and fighting with horses that aren't getting nearly enough done with them. Imagine a team of football players stuck in the locker room for a week or two, not allowed to get out on the field and utilize their energy. Yep. That's about what a horse who's not in training but is getting fed an inordinate amount of food and being stall kept is like...

But onto more exciting and less-likely-to-splatter you subjects...

I've got 'stuff' going on with AGMG. I refuse to really talk about it because I'm afraid *pauses to breath as she's momentarily struck with emotional paroxysms* that nothing but sorrowful drama and hair-rending loss the likes of which America hasn't seen since J.R. was shot, will be the only outcome of this 'stuff'. At the same time, of course, I'm fighting the redonkulous urges to try and look into the future. You know, the future where I'm deciding what to wear to a book signing and how I want to word the 'special thanks' to my brother Chucky Duck for not letting me throw my computer into a wall all those times I was so tempted to... Anyone who ever tells you that waiting isn't hard has never cared about the outcome at the end of that waiting. Seriously. I'm all for a stake to the heart, silver bullet, whatever, but make it fast and straightforward. Or love me the moment you meet me. But waiting... aaaarrgh!

What? Reality is all about waiting? That's what they keep telling me. I suppose it's true, which is why I'm practicing so hard to get good at it. But I don't live in 'reality'. I live 'here', where I write all the time, and even though my writing might not be perfect, people tell me what's hinky and I get to keep working on it until it hits that sweet spot and makes them smile and ask for more. 'Reality' is just that annoying place I have to visit every so often, like to pay bills, go to work, etc. I'm adept at carrying 'here' with me into 'reality', however. Anyone who's met me isn't likely to have forgotten the huge notebook I was undoubtedly dragging with me. That's why I love longhand. Paper never runs out of batteries, and even if my pen goes bogey, I can use someone else's... or a pencil... or a sharpened piece of stick charred black with a borrowed lighter... whatever. Suffice to say that it's harder to be thwarted from writing when you're willing to write on anything that'll hold still long enough to soak up ink.

And speaking of writing. I've started a new project. One that I see right from the off as being a series of three books. I'm in love with it. Not that I couldn't refrain from working on it in order to work on one of my other WIPs... you know... if someone I thought a lot of who was interested in me professionally suggested that I work on one of my other WIPs instead... But until that happens, I'm bouncing from my WIP Genesis to Kiss the Devil, my new love interest (henceforth referred to as KD)

KD involves another male MC, like AGMG and I'm finding that I adore this male perspective thing. I've always been more 'one of the guys' than 'the girl that hangs with the guys'. You know, in on all the fart jokes and pointing out hot numbers as they came in the door while we're shooting pool (an ideal way for men to scope the field without looking like they're scoping the field) and taking my turn at burping the alphabet. It's not that I sympathize with men more than women, or enjoy objectifying women (far from it) but I think that I've always been able to access this sociologically-fascinated part of my brain and objectively observe how men think and how women think.

Not that I'm an expert. No way. *snorts* I still have to check with my girlfriends when we're clubbing to see if a guy is trying to hit on me (I think most of them approach me like it's a bomb squad training session. You can tell how well it went by the number of guys who suddenly drift to the other side of the bar.) No, I'm not an expert. But I love trying to see things from a guy's POV, and somehow, it's sort of more fun. At least right now. Especially with Priest, KD's main character. He's a bad ass with a golden heart, even if he doesn't know it yet. And a big part of the story involves soldiers, what they go through in battle and how they're treated when they come home, which is a subject close to my heart. I've got a brother serving right now in the Navy and my family's been in the armed forces since... well... since history started. Anyway, I'm all about KD right now and I'm really excited about the idea that it could become a strong series, which is something I've been cautious about getting into since I'd rather not write a series, than write a series that flops in the middle of book two and goes toe-up in book three.

Now that I've rambled for a while in 'reality' I think I'll head home to 'here' and write a little more. I'll leave you with a picture though, just to prove that I do get out into 'reality' on occasion. Yes... having Walelu present at those locations of 'reality' is a darn big draw for me. And for the record, yes that was my drink, but no I didn't finish it.The menu said 'margarita' not 'fish bowl full of alcohol' so I ended up drinking a little less than half. And I got brain freeze several times. The best part of the picture isn't actually in the picture. There were about eighteen police officers eating at the table behind us... watching me ham with the baby and my drink... and I had no idea they were there until Walelu woke up and looked over my shoulder at them... *blushes* Yes officers... I write YA fiction... and occasionally act like a goober at dinner....