Here it is already, the last week of June. Wow. I'm still telling people Happy New Year. How is it the days go by so fast? My, how time flies!
I've slowed down on my writing, not from lack of trying either. I just sit here staring at the computer screen. Maybe my mind is constipated. I'm 31,000 words into it and have a plot line, though it's not totally solid yet. I'm not worried about that though. This is a sequel, so the characters already know who they are and what they want. If I step out of line and write something they don't like, I hear about it.
Maybe they're on vacation, tanning themselves somewhere on the sunny beaches of Hawaii sipping some fruity drink. Huh. Why didn't they invite me?
My first novel!
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Saturday, June 26, 2010
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Confessions from a bathroom stall
I've never understood why people talk on the phone while they're peeing. Or doing the other. Aren't some times in your life in need of a little get away "me" time? Anyway, the bathroom was tiny and over lit with only one stall. As I head for it, my arm stretched out to push back the stall door, I hear someone talking and realize the stall is occupied. Okay. Fine. I can hold it.
As I'm standing there, I look around at the unpainted tile in the ceiling, trying not to look at the set of pigeon-toed black pumps pointing toward me. I instead study the tiny flecks of yellow paint flicked carelessly on the ancient ceiling fan this quiet whisper comes from the stall.
"Carol, are you sure he was dead?"
I freeze staring slack jawed at the door. The person in the stall begins to move around, hunting for toilet paper before she adds, "Calm down, you're freaking me out."
I wanted to blurt out-"You're freaked out?"
A normal person would leave, right? A clear minded individual would find another bathroom. Not me! I can't, I gotta go. I'm already doing the pee pee dance. I have the bladder the size of a pea. No, make that several pees, all about fifteen minutes apart. I spend my life excusing myself to the bathroom. TMI? Sorry, but I digress.
"It's no big deal..." I didn't catch the rest of what she said because she flushed. I couldn't believe it, at a moment like that, she flushes! Anyway, she pushes open the door open with a shove, still clutching the phone.
I lowered my eyes and rushed in, angry at myself that I didn't get a look at her. Even if I did get a look, what was I going to do? I had a flash of myself at the police deptartment giving a statement. "yeah, well, I was waiting to urinate and this woman in the stall I was waiting for said..."
I hear her wash her hands and the conversation turns more bizarre. "Did the clown ever show up?"
What the hell do these people do? With that, the woman walks out, still jabbering away and I'm left standing there in the bathroom stall slack jawed and wondering...so did the clown ever show up?
As I'm standing there, I look around at the unpainted tile in the ceiling, trying not to look at the set of pigeon-toed black pumps pointing toward me. I instead study the tiny flecks of yellow paint flicked carelessly on the ancient ceiling fan this quiet whisper comes from the stall.
"Carol, are you sure he was dead?"
I freeze staring slack jawed at the door. The person in the stall begins to move around, hunting for toilet paper before she adds, "Calm down, you're freaking me out."
I wanted to blurt out-"You're freaked out?"
A normal person would leave, right? A clear minded individual would find another bathroom. Not me! I can't, I gotta go. I'm already doing the pee pee dance. I have the bladder the size of a pea. No, make that several pees, all about fifteen minutes apart. I spend my life excusing myself to the bathroom. TMI? Sorry, but I digress.
"It's no big deal..." I didn't catch the rest of what she said because she flushed. I couldn't believe it, at a moment like that, she flushes! Anyway, she pushes open the door open with a shove, still clutching the phone.
I lowered my eyes and rushed in, angry at myself that I didn't get a look at her. Even if I did get a look, what was I going to do? I had a flash of myself at the police deptartment giving a statement. "yeah, well, I was waiting to urinate and this woman in the stall I was waiting for said..."
I hear her wash her hands and the conversation turns more bizarre. "Did the clown ever show up?"
What the hell do these people do? With that, the woman walks out, still jabbering away and I'm left standing there in the bathroom stall slack jawed and wondering...so did the clown ever show up?
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Random Musings by an Alien experiment
Have you ever just sat and stared? Okay, I've done that, we've all done that. I mean really, really veg out. Slack jawed, dry eyed vegetative state. I've been doing it all month. I start to do something then I stop and stare. I've started to write this blog about five times, the only good thing about that is I have a bunch of saved drafts that I don't even remember writing.
I don't know what I'm staring at. It might be out the window, at the computer, at the t.v. It's really bad when it happens at work. I started folding laundry last week, the pile is still half done on my couch. I was folding a pair of socks and something drew my site out the window. I stared for so long my left leg went numb.
My sensitive husband sees me vegging out and pokes me. "hey, I'm going to the store." When I didn't answer, he poked me again. "Okay?"
I poked him back. "Okay."
He came back with several bags of groceries and I was still standing in the kitchen, the rest of the unfolded laundry strewn around me. I don't think he even noticed. He's thinks I'm odd anyway.
My question is, where do I go during that time? Maybe I'm being abducted and brought aboard the mother ship and random experiments are tested on me. Maybe they're feeding me fattening foods and that's why I'm gaining weight! Yeah, that's it, that's gotta be the reason! Aliens are making me fat.
"Let's see what happens when we make the earthling consume mass quantities of Carbonated caramelized sugar water within a ten second period of time."
I'll tell ya little green dude, I'll belch, that's what!
Okay, enough vegging out. It's Saturday night almost Sunday morning and I need to get back to chapter eight!
I don't know what I'm staring at. It might be out the window, at the computer, at the t.v. It's really bad when it happens at work. I started folding laundry last week, the pile is still half done on my couch. I was folding a pair of socks and something drew my site out the window. I stared for so long my left leg went numb.
My sensitive husband sees me vegging out and pokes me. "hey, I'm going to the store." When I didn't answer, he poked me again. "Okay?"
I poked him back. "Okay."
He came back with several bags of groceries and I was still standing in the kitchen, the rest of the unfolded laundry strewn around me. I don't think he even noticed. He's thinks I'm odd anyway.
My question is, where do I go during that time? Maybe I'm being abducted and brought aboard the mother ship and random experiments are tested on me. Maybe they're feeding me fattening foods and that's why I'm gaining weight! Yeah, that's it, that's gotta be the reason! Aliens are making me fat.
"Let's see what happens when we make the earthling consume mass quantities of Carbonated caramelized sugar water within a ten second period of time."
I'll tell ya little green dude, I'll belch, that's what!
Okay, enough vegging out. It's Saturday night almost Sunday morning and I need to get back to chapter eight!
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
When characters go bad...
Okay, this is weird. I want to know how many writers have had this happen.
I'm working on chapter three of my sequel. Well, actually finishing up chapter two. Like the Orca at Sea world, my main male character is not behaving. He's been pissed off in every scene, forcing me into rewrites. It's odd. I'm the fricken writer and yet he's dictating how I write him. So, last night I was finishing up a scene where he's doped up on Laudanum and whiskey and he announces in front of his wife's family that he doesn't want to be married. WTH? I rewrote it and the same thing came out.
So, I began doing an exercise from a writing book where you start interviewing your character. It's suppose to help you get to know them a little better. So, I start off interviewing him for his hopes and dreams and he tells me that he wants to go back to fort Laramie and leave his wife either here or with Hazel Henderson back in Cheyenne. I was floored.
First off I didn't even know Hazel lived in Cheyenne. I've never established her residence, but he has. Second, I tell her he can't leave her that they're married now. He retorts by telling me that I should know he never wanted to to get married, he's said that all along and now he's saddled with his second wife when he never wanted the first one. He goes on to tell me he married out of duty and now he wants out. And do it quickly before she gets pregnant. So, I asked him if he loves her. He says yes, but and when he's around her he can't think right. And then get this crap. He doesn't feel a man is a man when their heads are all muddled with thoughts of love, that his beautiful wife strips him of his power, of his anger, that he doesn't feel like himself anymore.
By this time I'm having a full on convo with the guy. I tell him that she's going to be hurt if you just up and leave. The bastard shrugged. He says he doesn't want children and she's trying to get pregnant. Plus, he's hiding some secret that if she knew, she would have never married him in the first place. What secret? I never gave you a secret!
Who does this guy think he is?
Well, I have to go back now and try to figure out what the hell is his problem so I can move onto my outline.
I'm working on chapter three of my sequel. Well, actually finishing up chapter two. Like the Orca at Sea world, my main male character is not behaving. He's been pissed off in every scene, forcing me into rewrites. It's odd. I'm the fricken writer and yet he's dictating how I write him. So, last night I was finishing up a scene where he's doped up on Laudanum and whiskey and he announces in front of his wife's family that he doesn't want to be married. WTH? I rewrote it and the same thing came out.
So, I began doing an exercise from a writing book where you start interviewing your character. It's suppose to help you get to know them a little better. So, I start off interviewing him for his hopes and dreams and he tells me that he wants to go back to fort Laramie and leave his wife either here or with Hazel Henderson back in Cheyenne. I was floored.
First off I didn't even know Hazel lived in Cheyenne. I've never established her residence, but he has. Second, I tell her he can't leave her that they're married now. He retorts by telling me that I should know he never wanted to to get married, he's said that all along and now he's saddled with his second wife when he never wanted the first one. He goes on to tell me he married out of duty and now he wants out. And do it quickly before she gets pregnant. So, I asked him if he loves her. He says yes, but and when he's around her he can't think right. And then get this crap. He doesn't feel a man is a man when their heads are all muddled with thoughts of love, that his beautiful wife strips him of his power, of his anger, that he doesn't feel like himself anymore.
By this time I'm having a full on convo with the guy. I tell him that she's going to be hurt if you just up and leave. The bastard shrugged. He says he doesn't want children and she's trying to get pregnant. Plus, he's hiding some secret that if she knew, she would have never married him in the first place. What secret? I never gave you a secret!
Who does this guy think he is?
Well, I have to go back now and try to figure out what the hell is his problem so I can move onto my outline.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Good Golly Molly
I broke up my day of researching sutures and surgery/medicine from post Civil War era to go to a baby shower this afternoon. I was so into my quest to find information about ether and the use of Chloroform that I worked past the time I was nearly due to leave. As always, I hadn't bought the gift yet or the card. Still thinking of my coming scene in chapter two, I rushed to the store to pick up a card and some wrapping. I buy a cute card and decide on gift cards to a baby store.
I don't know about you, but I can never write anything worthwhile on a card. Some people write these great touching words that bring a tear to ones eye. Not me. Here I am a writer but put a card in front of me and I suddenly can't spell or remember the persons name I'm writing to. I think secretly people all long to come up with a saying on a card that is so terrific that the present is forgotten, the card passed around so other's could read the brilliance of your words.
Case in point. Here I am, already late, sitting in my car outside the store, pen in hand, gift wrapped and pen poised. I blank. Come on, come on, I tap the pen against my steering wheel. Come on, just write something! Anything!
Molly, I write...
Okay, got her name down, spelled correctly, looks nice as well. Okay, she's having a baby, say something about the baby. So, what do I write? what wonderful, inspired sweet, touching thing could I come up with?
Hope she's beautiful. What?! I wrote that on her fricken baby shower card? I stare at it. I can't believe I wrote that. Hope she's beautiful? I might as well have written "hope she's not butt ugly." "Hope she doesn't make people gag." "Hope she doesn't look like your husband."
I'm so late I contemplate just leaving it and hope my friend has a sense of humor. Not about her baby she won't, not bloody likely. With a big sigh, I toss it onto my passenger seat and head back inside for another card. I'm still thinking about how to rework my scene as I run back out to my car again.
This time I play it safe. I merely write her name at the top, date it and sign my name at the bottom. I stick it in the envelope, seal it and write her name on the card, done. If I can drive 80 on the freeway I won't be too terribly late.
As I'm driving there, the lime green envelope next to me catches my eye. I look at the card addressed to Katy. Katy? Who the hell is Katy? Damn it! I wrote my characters name on the damn card.
Sigh. I'm not buying another card, not at three or four dollars a pop. Maybe she won't notice. Going through so many presents and cards, she'll just pick mine up and open it without realize the name on the card isn't hers. Not even close.
I worry about it through the entire drive, coming up with elaborate scenarios to explain away the wrong name if asked. As it turned out. No one asked, I spend the whole afternoon way in the back talking with friends. When she got to my gift, she opens the card, reads it and then very loudly thanked "Judy" for the gift.
Jeesh. Doesn't she know my name is Julie?
I don't know about you, but I can never write anything worthwhile on a card. Some people write these great touching words that bring a tear to ones eye. Not me. Here I am a writer but put a card in front of me and I suddenly can't spell or remember the persons name I'm writing to. I think secretly people all long to come up with a saying on a card that is so terrific that the present is forgotten, the card passed around so other's could read the brilliance of your words.
Case in point. Here I am, already late, sitting in my car outside the store, pen in hand, gift wrapped and pen poised. I blank. Come on, come on, I tap the pen against my steering wheel. Come on, just write something! Anything!
Molly, I write...
Okay, got her name down, spelled correctly, looks nice as well. Okay, she's having a baby, say something about the baby. So, what do I write? what wonderful, inspired sweet, touching thing could I come up with?
Hope she's beautiful. What?! I wrote that on her fricken baby shower card? I stare at it. I can't believe I wrote that. Hope she's beautiful? I might as well have written "hope she's not butt ugly." "Hope she doesn't make people gag." "Hope she doesn't look like your husband."
I'm so late I contemplate just leaving it and hope my friend has a sense of humor. Not about her baby she won't, not bloody likely. With a big sigh, I toss it onto my passenger seat and head back inside for another card. I'm still thinking about how to rework my scene as I run back out to my car again.
This time I play it safe. I merely write her name at the top, date it and sign my name at the bottom. I stick it in the envelope, seal it and write her name on the card, done. If I can drive 80 on the freeway I won't be too terribly late.
As I'm driving there, the lime green envelope next to me catches my eye. I look at the card addressed to Katy. Katy? Who the hell is Katy? Damn it! I wrote my characters name on the damn card.
Sigh. I'm not buying another card, not at three or four dollars a pop. Maybe she won't notice. Going through so many presents and cards, she'll just pick mine up and open it without realize the name on the card isn't hers. Not even close.
I worry about it through the entire drive, coming up with elaborate scenarios to explain away the wrong name if asked. As it turned out. No one asked, I spend the whole afternoon way in the back talking with friends. When she got to my gift, she opens the card, reads it and then very loudly thanked "Judy" for the gift.
Jeesh. Doesn't she know my name is Julie?
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
I love it when friends stop by to chat
Sunday, April 18, 2010
An Interview With Julie Church-Romero--By Kurt Chambers
Today I would like to introduce to you a very good friend of mine, Julie Church-Romero. I met Julie in The Young Adult Novel Workshop some years ago where she was an much loved member of our little family of critics. Now she has bloomed into a published author, and I'm so glad to be able to show her off to the world. Hey, look everyone, it's Julie! *points* haha!!
Me: Hi Julie, we are so humbled to have you visit our blog this week. Please make yourself at home while I fire some random questions at you. I with try to be gentle, I promise. *rubs hands*
I know you come from a family of writers, but who would you say was your biggest inspiration in the writing field?
Julie: I took an online class through Writers Digest and had an instructor, Author Bonnie Hearn Hill who was very complimentary toward my writing. I think she was the first real writer that wasn’t family that made me feel maybe I really could get published!
Me: You've had a stab at writing YA with Judy, and you're published in romance, but which genre would be your first choice if you could choose any genre to be published in?
Julie: I really like historical romance or historical fiction. That’s what I feel most at home with writing. I love my YA novel and I haven’t forgotten about Judy, the teenage super hero. She’s still in the wings waiting for me to fill in her plot holes. Maybe if I stick Judy back in time, I’d finally finish her.
Me: That's great! I often wondered what happened to her.
What do you like to read the most?
Julie: It kind of depends on my mood. Crime novels if I’ve had a bad day, romance if I’ve had a good day… I love Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum novels for a good laugh, Philippa Gregory for historic. And I love JA Jance’s Seattle Crime novels.
Me: If I made myself comfortable on your side of the bed, and reached over to your bedside cabinet, what book would I find?
Julie: I’m currently reading my friend Eva’s novel, Entirely Yours, as well as a biography on John Lennon and Janet Evanovich’s Finger Lickin' Fifteen.
Me: All us poor unpublished authors are dying to know what it feels like when you receive that first golden acceptance letter. Describe that moment for us and make us all jealous...lol...
Julie: I love talking about this! It came by way of email, actually. I had just come home from Los Angeles from visiting my parents. I’ve dreamt of it for so long, I had to read the letter several times before it dawned on me A Soldier’s Embrace had been accepted for publication and I was being offered a contract. And then my husband and I ran through the house laughing and screaming, much to my neighbors' delight. When I received my welcome letter from Bluewood Publishing a couple of weeks later, I framed it and now have it hanging over my computer. I still get giddy when I read it.
Me: Now that you've made it as an author, what is your biggest fear?
Julie: Spiders. I hate them. Little, big, it doesn’t matter.
Me: You big girl...lol...
Julie: Second to that, I’d have to say I fear that second attempt at publication. You know, the whole “first novel a fluke” worry. I wrote a blog on it this week, actually.
Me: Have you got any advice for any up-and-coming authors?
Julie: Believe in yourself and in your writing, and don’t listen to the critic in your head. Just keep sending out your best work and the reward will follow. I’m also a big believer in critic groups. It’s amazing how much I’ve learned from fellow writers like you who care enough to be honest and point out how flaws and plot problems drag your story down.
I have to say that I really want to stress the fact there comes a point where you have to stop editing your novel. It’s NEVER going to be perfect or possibly even finished in your eyes. I’m still wanting to change things and edit A Soldier’s Embrace and the book is published and in paperback! In one word - “LetItGo” Trust me, your editor will get frustrated with you if you keep taking it back to change things.
Me: Where do you see yourself in ten years from now?
Julie: My dream is to have a large following of readers, to have my books in libraries and to be able to quit my 9-5 job and have my writing support me.
Me: Wouldn't that be nice! I'm totally with you on that one.
If you could invite any author (alive of dead) around to your house for tea, who would you invite and why?
Julie: Oh man, so many to choose from. Well, my brother Mike wasn’t an author. He was a producer for a small television station and a comedy writer for radio personalities. He passed away in 2000 from cancer, but I’d love to have him to tea. And toast. He loved buttered toast. It would be wonderful to have an afternoon to ask for his advice and to talk about our favorite episodes of Seinfeld. The Bubble Boy, The puffy pirate shirt, Shrinkage… Dr. Seuss would also be incredibly interesting. I hope the whole tea would be spoken in rhyme.
“Would you like tea with sugar or honey?"
“Oh yes of course, I think you’re so funny.”
I think Janet Evanovich would be a hoot as well. She just sounds like a really fun person.
Me: Awwww, what an awesome answer. Green Eggs And Ham was always my favourite.
Talking of favourites, here is my favourite question. I ask this in all my interviews. If you had one wish, what would it be? And you're not allowed to wish for more wishes...lol...Don't ask me why, I don't make up the wishing rules, haha!!
Julie: World Peace is always good.
Me: *rolls eyes* It's not a Miss World contest...lol...
Julie: Man Kurt, I don’t know! To be honest, I think my wish is just to be a self sufficient writer; an incredibly wealthy self sufficient writer.
Me: Now is your chance to shine. Please tell us all about your awesome novel, A Soldier's Embrace, we are all dying to hear about it.
Julie: A Soldier’s Embrace is set in 1878, on the hostile prairie of the American West, centered in the budding city of Denver Colorado and the harsh plains of Wyoming. Gold rustling, stage robberies and an angry Sioux nation, make Cavalry Lieutenant Eric Ryan’s job difficult enough. Add saving a spoiled kidnapped debutante to the mix and it’s nearly impossible.
Kidnapped from a stage coach, Elizabeth Davenport escapes her gold thirsty captors with her virtue intact, only to find her heart stolen by the dashing Cavalry officer who rescues her. The last thing she expected was to fall in love with a soldier. Though separated by class, her heart can't forget him, nor can her body. When Elizabeth’s father, the President of Denver’s National Bank worries his bank and assay office is going to be robbed, he requests the assistance of the young lieutenant who saved his daughter's life. But Elizabeth’s jealous fiancé, Warren, has other plans for Eric.
Me: Thank you SO much, Julie, for coming to visit us today, it was a real pleasure to share a little piece of your world. We all wish you every success in your writing career. You have worked so hard for this, I know from personal experience, and it's an absolute delight to see one of our YA members doing so well.
Please support our authors, everyone, and visit Julie's sites, join her blog, and more importantly, buy her wonderful book! Please feel free to copy this interview and post it in your blog if you are stuck for something to blog about, or at least give it a mention with a link to this article. It would be very much appreciated by Julie and me. And can I urge all you Tweeters out there to give this a mention to. Thank you so much.
You can find Julie here...
Links:
Book site: http://www.julieromero.net/j/soldier.cfm
Blog site: http://doibiething.blogspot.com/
An Interview With Julie Church-Romero--By Kurt Chambers
Today I would like to introduce to you a very good friend of mine, Julie Church-Romero. I met Julie in The Young Adult Novel Workshop some years ago where she was an much loved member of our little family of critics. Now she has bloomed into a published author, and I'm so glad to be able to show her off to the world. Hey, look everyone, it's Julie! *points* haha!!
Me: Hi Julie, we are so humbled to have you visit our blog this week. Please make yourself at home while I fire some random questions at you. I with try to be gentle, I promise. *rubs hands*
I know you come from a family of writers, but who would you say was your biggest inspiration in the writing field?
Julie: I took an online class through Writers Digest and had an instructor, Author Bonnie Hearn Hill who was very complimentary toward my writing. I think she was the first real writer that wasn’t family that made me feel maybe I really could get published!
Me: You've had a stab at writing YA with Judy, and you're published in romance, but which genre would be your first choice if you could choose any genre to be published in?
Julie: I really like historical romance or historical fiction. That’s what I feel most at home with writing. I love my YA novel and I haven’t forgotten about Judy, the teenage super hero. She’s still in the wings waiting for me to fill in her plot holes. Maybe if I stick Judy back in time, I’d finally finish her.
Me: That's great! I often wondered what happened to her.
What do you like to read the most?
Julie: It kind of depends on my mood. Crime novels if I’ve had a bad day, romance if I’ve had a good day… I love Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum novels for a good laugh, Philippa Gregory for historic. And I love JA Jance’s Seattle Crime novels.
Me: If I made myself comfortable on your side of the bed, and reached over to your bedside cabinet, what book would I find?
Julie: I’m currently reading my friend Eva’s novel, Entirely Yours, as well as a biography on John Lennon and Janet Evanovich’s Finger Lickin' Fifteen.
Me: All us poor unpublished authors are dying to know what it feels like when you receive that first golden acceptance letter. Describe that moment for us and make us all jealous...lol...
Julie: I love talking about this! It came by way of email, actually. I had just come home from Los Angeles from visiting my parents. I’ve dreamt of it for so long, I had to read the letter several times before it dawned on me A Soldier’s Embrace had been accepted for publication and I was being offered a contract. And then my husband and I ran through the house laughing and screaming, much to my neighbors' delight. When I received my welcome letter from Bluewood Publishing a couple of weeks later, I framed it and now have it hanging over my computer. I still get giddy when I read it.
Me: Now that you've made it as an author, what is your biggest fear?
Julie: Spiders. I hate them. Little, big, it doesn’t matter.
Me: You big girl...lol...
Julie: Second to that, I’d have to say I fear that second attempt at publication. You know, the whole “first novel a fluke” worry. I wrote a blog on it this week, actually.
Me: Have you got any advice for any up-and-coming authors?
Julie: Believe in yourself and in your writing, and don’t listen to the critic in your head. Just keep sending out your best work and the reward will follow. I’m also a big believer in critic groups. It’s amazing how much I’ve learned from fellow writers like you who care enough to be honest and point out how flaws and plot problems drag your story down.
I have to say that I really want to stress the fact there comes a point where you have to stop editing your novel. It’s NEVER going to be perfect or possibly even finished in your eyes. I’m still wanting to change things and edit A Soldier’s Embrace and the book is published and in paperback! In one word - “LetItGo” Trust me, your editor will get frustrated with you if you keep taking it back to change things.
Me: Where do you see yourself in ten years from now?
Julie: My dream is to have a large following of readers, to have my books in libraries and to be able to quit my 9-5 job and have my writing support me.
Me: Wouldn't that be nice! I'm totally with you on that one.
If you could invite any author (alive of dead) around to your house for tea, who would you invite and why?
Julie: Oh man, so many to choose from. Well, my brother Mike wasn’t an author. He was a producer for a small television station and a comedy writer for radio personalities. He passed away in 2000 from cancer, but I’d love to have him to tea. And toast. He loved buttered toast. It would be wonderful to have an afternoon to ask for his advice and to talk about our favorite episodes of Seinfeld. The Bubble Boy, The puffy pirate shirt, Shrinkage… Dr. Seuss would also be incredibly interesting. I hope the whole tea would be spoken in rhyme.
“Would you like tea with sugar or honey?"
“Oh yes of course, I think you’re so funny.”
I think Janet Evanovich would be a hoot as well. She just sounds like a really fun person.
Me: Awwww, what an awesome answer. Green Eggs And Ham was always my favourite.
Talking of favourites, here is my favourite question. I ask this in all my interviews. If you had one wish, what would it be? And you're not allowed to wish for more wishes...lol...Don't ask me why, I don't make up the wishing rules, haha!!
Julie: World Peace is always good.
Me: *rolls eyes* It's not a Miss World contest...lol...
Julie: Man Kurt, I don’t know! To be honest, I think my wish is just to be a self sufficient writer; an incredibly wealthy self sufficient writer.
Me: Now is your chance to shine. Please tell us all about your awesome novel, A Soldier's Embrace, we are all dying to hear about it.
Julie: A Soldier’s Embrace is set in 1878, on the hostile prairie of the American West, centered in the budding city of Denver Colorado and the harsh plains of Wyoming. Gold rustling, stage robberies and an angry Sioux nation, make Cavalry Lieutenant Eric Ryan’s job difficult enough. Add saving a spoiled kidnapped debutante to the mix and it’s nearly impossible.
Kidnapped from a stage coach, Elizabeth Davenport escapes her gold thirsty captors with her virtue intact, only to find her heart stolen by the dashing Cavalry officer who rescues her. The last thing she expected was to fall in love with a soldier. Though separated by class, her heart can't forget him, nor can her body. When Elizabeth’s father, the President of Denver’s National Bank worries his bank and assay office is going to be robbed, he requests the assistance of the young lieutenant who saved his daughter's life. But Elizabeth’s jealous fiancé, Warren, has other plans for Eric.
Me: Thank you SO much, Julie, for coming to visit us today, it was a real pleasure to share a little piece of your world. We all wish you every success in your writing career. You have worked so hard for this, I know from personal experience, and it's an absolute delight to see one of our YA members doing so well.
Please support our authors, everyone, and visit Julie's sites, join her blog, and more importantly, buy her wonderful book! Please feel free to copy this interview and post it in your blog if you are stuck for something to blog about, or at least give it a mention with a link to this article. It would be very much appreciated by Julie and me. And can I urge all you Tweeters out there to give this a mention to. Thank you so much.
You can find Julie here...
Links:
Book site: http://www.julieromero.net/j/soldier.cfm
Blog site: http://doibiething.blogspot.com/
Sunday, April 18, 2010
If I were a Seven Dwarf, I think I'd be Grumpy
Arms crossed, impatient, short, hasn't shaved in a really long time because why bother, no one's going to notice anyway, not wealthy but he digs, digs, digs, digs, digs, digs, digs, digs, digs, digs,-digs the whole day through and pissed off that everyone around him is wasting his time. God, he sounds horrible, miserable to be around!
I think he's me. Or I'm him.
Maybe it's spring, or the fact my pants have gotten too tight, but I have no tolerance for anything anymore. The first word out of my mouth is usually "What!"
For years my sister in law has bought me Grumpy stuff and I always just laughed. I have grumpy slippers, a grumpy nightshirt that says "You woke me for this?!" I have a grumpy bumper sticker but never put it on my car because who the hell would put a grumpy bumper sticker on their car? I have a Grumpy picture frame, for what reason I'm not sure because I'm usually smiling for the camera, A grumpy hat, grumpy socks my parents bought me, a grumpy wrist watch, and grumpy shoe laces.
I think someone is trying to tell me something. So what if I'm grumpy? There are worse Dwarf's to be. I could very easily change Dwarf's and be Sneezy. I sneeze and sniffle more than I bitch or complain. Hey, I could be Gaspy, the Dwarf with Chronic Asthma. I could be Bitchy the lesser known Dwarf or Itchy the Dwarf who always wants you to scratch her back. "Not there, no higher, higher, a little to the side, more, more Yes! Yes! You got it!
Or Bloated, the Dwarf cousin who's always there, but no one talks about. I could be known for wonderful sayings that would look great on any shirt or poster like "Oh, God, when did these booties get so tight, or I have to loosen this damn belt before we gig for gold!"
How about Whiny or Horny? Or Stinky/Gassy, the Dwarf even Snow White abandons. That could have easily be made into a movie- Snow White, the lost years.
Did Walt ever think to give those guys a chance?
I think not.
I think he's me. Or I'm him.
Maybe it's spring, or the fact my pants have gotten too tight, but I have no tolerance for anything anymore. The first word out of my mouth is usually "What!"
For years my sister in law has bought me Grumpy stuff and I always just laughed. I have grumpy slippers, a grumpy nightshirt that says "You woke me for this?!" I have a grumpy bumper sticker but never put it on my car because who the hell would put a grumpy bumper sticker on their car? I have a Grumpy picture frame, for what reason I'm not sure because I'm usually smiling for the camera, A grumpy hat, grumpy socks my parents bought me, a grumpy wrist watch, and grumpy shoe laces.
I think someone is trying to tell me something. So what if I'm grumpy? There are worse Dwarf's to be. I could very easily change Dwarf's and be Sneezy. I sneeze and sniffle more than I bitch or complain. Hey, I could be Gaspy, the Dwarf with Chronic Asthma. I could be Bitchy the lesser known Dwarf or Itchy the Dwarf who always wants you to scratch her back. "Not there, no higher, higher, a little to the side, more, more Yes! Yes! You got it!
Or Bloated, the Dwarf cousin who's always there, but no one talks about. I could be known for wonderful sayings that would look great on any shirt or poster like "Oh, God, when did these booties get so tight, or I have to loosen this damn belt before we gig for gold!"
How about Whiny or Horny? Or Stinky/Gassy, the Dwarf even Snow White abandons. That could have easily be made into a movie- Snow White, the lost years.
Did Walt ever think to give those guys a chance?
I think not.
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