Oops

I spent the morning trying to figure out why Wordpress refuses to notify me when someone comments on my blog. No matter what I did, nothing changed. I even changed the email address for notification, entered a test comment, and waited. Still nothing.

So I went back to delete the comment, and clicked the wrong button and deleted the entire post. So, my apologies to those who were nice enough to comment. I wasn’t deleting you, honest

Don’t forget voting is still open until November 30. My entry is titled “Stranger in Paradise” and I’m the week #8 finalist. Click here to cast your ballot. Thanks for your support.

Until next time,
Margery

Writers’ weekend

This past weekend, two writer friends and I packed up our laptops, jammies and snacks and headed to the lake for a writers’ retreat. Almost as good as RWA’s national conference, but closer to home and MUCH cheaper. I’d have photos, but the batteries on my camera died - again!!

The weather co-operated, staying chilly enough that we weren’t tempted to venture outside, and the sky was crystal clear, most important for watching the stars at night through the skylights where my friends were sleeping.

I personally didn’t do much actual writing in the evening, but I could still hear the other two working madly, the keyboards clicking away after I’d given up and gone to bed. I did play around with a few ideas though, and I tried converting a novel into a screenplay. Let me tell you, scriptwriting isn’t as easy as it seems, although I do LOVE the idea of not having to write much description and introspection! I gained a lot of respect for those TV and film writers who are out on strike right now. I also gained something else - about three pounds.

I think writers’ weekends should be mandatory, if for no other reason than to hang out with other people who don’t think you’re crazy because imaginary people talk to you.

Older than dirt

It was my youngest son’s birthday yesterday, and because I was feeling old, my sister sent me a quiz to see just how old I REALLY am. I’d give credit to the author, but I don’t know who he/she is.

Older than dirt quiz:

Count all the ones that you remember not the ones you were told about . Ratings at the bottom.

1. Blackjack chewing gum
2. Wax Coke-shaped bottles with colored sugar water
3. Candy cigarettes
4. Soda pop machines that dispensed glass bottles
5. Coffee shops or diners with tableside juke boxes
6 . Home milk delivery in glass bottles with cardboard stoppers
7. Party lines
8. Newsreels before the movie
9. P.F. Flyers
10. Butch wax
11. Telephone numbers with a word prefix (OLive-6933)
12. Peashooters
13. Howdy Doody
14. 45 RPM records
15. S&
16 Hi-fi’s
17. Metal ice trays with lever
18. Mimeograph paper
19. Blue flashbulbs
20. Packards
21. Roller skate keys
22. Cork popguns
23. Drive-ins
24. Studebakers
25. Wash tub wringers

If you remembered 0-5 = You’re still young
If you remembered 6-10 = You are getting older
If you remembered 11-15 = Don’t tell your age,
If you remembered 16-25 = You’re older than dirt!

I won’t tell you my score, but it sure didn’t make me feel any younger. How about you? How many do you remember?

Until next year …

It’s official! Summer is over for another year, which is enough to put me in a miserable mood for … oh, about eight months. I’m a summer girl. Love shorts, flip-flops, ice-cold drinks, lazing by the pool, golf. I love every sweltering degree of summer, and even the humidity and the mosquitoes aren’t bad enough to change my mind.

But just so I don’t get too depressed at the thought of the sub-zero temperatures ahead for the next few months, I’m thinking about things I love about Fall, in no particular order.

* nights cool enough to sleep with the windows open
* crunching leaves under my feet
* roasting marshmallows on a campfire at the lake
* Thanksgiving
* apple cider
* wearing sweaters again
* watching the leaves change colour
* Hallowe’en

What about you? Do you like Fall, or are you like me and it’s one of the seasons I have to suffer through to get to summer again?

Happy birthday to me

Is there anything better than ice cream cake to a woman on a diet?

I had a birthday on the weekend. I won’t say how old I am, but you might notice the “+” beside the 39. That’s as far as the family goes in discussing my age

Very low-key, but nice. Fattening food, family and fun. At this point, that’s about all the excitement I want on my birthday.

What was your favourite birthday?

I’ve got balls

I got a present last night - a brand new (to me) set of billiard balls. Isn’t that exciting?

Until now, we’ve been using balls that apparently aren’t the right size. Who knew? When I bought them 30+ years ago, I didn’t even know there was a right size. But since I’ve been playing in the league, I’ve learned a few things. And the number one thing is - size does matter

I’m not a fan of buying anything used, so I was ready to shell out for a brand new set. I’d been procrastinating - such a shock - so I hadn’t gotten to the pool ball store. And last night, the league operator offered me a set last night. At the best deal possible, too - free. They aren’t new, but really, since they’re practically indestructible, they still work fine. And shiny-new doesn’t matter.

What does matter is that now that I have the right balls, I’ll be ready for the pro circuit in no time.

Yippee-kiy-ay-kiy-oh

From my childhood

I’m a sucker for western historical romances. Something about the old west – gunslingers with six-shooters strapped to their thighs, lawmen, ranchers, “soiled doves” and saloon women, even prissy schoolmarms – draws me in.

When I was a little girl, westerns were a hugely popular genre on TV the way forensic shows are today. Whenever a wester was playing, you would find me glued to the set. Wyatt Earp, Gunsmoke, Rin Tin Tin, Have Gun, Will Travel, and of course, the king of the cowboys, Roy Rogers. Too many to mention, but my all-time favourite was Annie Oakley. This was the first time I’d ever seen a woman hold the leading role in a TV show. She was single and didn’t need a man to look after her or support her :gasp:, she was smart (at least I thought so at the time), and man, could she shoot! My best Christmas ever was the year I got my very own Annie Oakley cowgirl outfit complete with fringed skirt, vest and hat. To complete the ensemble, I got a Wild Bill Hickok double-holster set of guns. So un-politically correct now, but back then, they were just toys.

The publishing industry is cyclical. Chick lit was enormously popular for a while, but it seems to have fizzled out, while paranormal has become one of the hot genres. Erotica is hugely popular, but no doubt in time the market will be saturated, and it will die out, too, to be replaced by a resurgence of a previously popular genre or some new hybrid.

Over the past few years, western romances have declined in popularity, but there are still diehard fans out there. I recently heard about a new blog, Petticoats and Pistols, hosted by ten of the genre’s best-selling authors. If you’ve got a hankerin’ to find out more about cowboys, horses, and anything to do with those thrilling days of yesteryear (wasn’t that part of the theme of the Lone Ranger?), mosey on over there. I know I’ll be a regular visitor.

You want to sell me what?

I’m so sick of telemarketers. I understand they’re just doing their job, but if I want to buy something, I’ll go to a store or call someone in the business and order it. And why, why do they always call when I’m either in the middle of dinner, or trying to have an afternoon nap? It’s almost as if they have built-in radar.

I discovered I can stop some telemarketing, so I’ve registered for that. But here are a few other tips I found out while doing an internet search.

* Tell them you’d love to chat but you’re busy at the moment. Ask him/her for his/her home phone number so you can call back.

* Ask them to repeat everything they say, several times.

* Tell them it’s dinner time, BUT ask if they would please hold. Put them on your speaker phone while you continue to eat at your leisure. Smack your food loudly and continue with your dinner conversation.

* Tell them that all business goes through your agent, and hand the phone to your five year old child. Ask your child to sing nursery rhymes

* Tell them you are hard of hearing and that they need to speak up…louder…louder…louder!

* Tell them to speak very slowly because you want to write every word down.

* If they start out with, “How are you today?” say “I’m so glad you asked, because no one these days seems to care, and I have all these problems…………”

How do you handle telemarketing calls?

Fun in the sun

Is there anything that says summer more than kids playing on a waterslide?

I’m disappointed with the photos, though. I had problems with the camera. Okay, the problem is me. I’m no photographer, and I have no eye for photo composition. And besides, I haven’t mastered the split-second delay when you hit the shutter, and by the time the camera decides to take the picture, the moment is gone

It may not look like it, but honest, the boys were having a great time Made me wish I was a kid again, but just to be sure no adult wanted to relive their childhood, there was a warning on the box not to try it.

What about you? If you could be eight years old again, what would be the most fun thing to do?

All alone am I

Well, I’m practically all alone. Seventy-five percent of my critique group has abandoned me. They’ve flown off to Dallas for the Romance Writers of America national conference - four days of workshops, parties, schmoozing, parties, editor/agent appointments … and oh, did I mention partying?

Can we say jealous???

I’ve missed the past three years because, well, I really didn’t feel justified in attending since I wasn’t writing seriously. But no more! Next year the conference is being held in San Francisco. I am SO there! The day registration opens, I’m booking my spot and my hotel room. I deserve it!

I should spend the rest of this week writing to keep my mind off all the fun I’m missing. The sooner I get started, the sooner I’ll have manuscripts on editors’ desks, and with any luck, the sooner I’ll be getting THE CALL!

If you want to read about all the action at the conference, Suzanne McMinn, Michelle Willingham and Kacey Pickens will be reporting in.

Now I’m off to feel sorry for myself