First, I’m giving away another Amazon certificate. Forgot how much. Like maybe 10-15 bucks. Comment here to win. Say something entertaining if you like. In fact, tell me how much you love the gym . . .

And to go with the that, FUNNIES!

Tomorrow we discuss A Turn of LIght by Julie Czerneda for book club. Wheee! I will say, however, that because of unexpected soccer scheduling (as in we just got the schedule for tomorrow), we’ll have to start in the afternoon, if that’s all right.

You ever had one of those days where it feels all your nerves are exposed and getting pecked at by woodpeckers? That was my day. I’m seeking calm now. Sadly, eating myself into a stupor doesn’t seem like a good idea (I don’t have the chocolate for it anyhow), and I’ve never been good at drinking when I’m upset (I only get sick), and when I try meditation, there’s frequent moments of Squirrel! So I’m on the couch with a book (well, as soon as I’m done here) and dogs and tea and quiet. We’ll see if that works. Tomorrow will be exercise. I want to take the dogs for a long ramble, just as soon as I buy new leashes, since their old ones have vanished (what was that? One of the woodpeckers? Yes). Poor things. I got them all prepped to go tonight and no leashes to be found. I discovered that one promptly chewed through a soaker hose in revenge. Gotta get stuff to fix that next, I spose.

And as this is entirely appropriate and funny, I’m including it:

Sing the chorus loud when you get there. For me. Wait for it. You’ll know what it is.

Remember that post I made with the saddle that reminded me of Sheri Tepper’s Grass? Today I got awesome spam mail wanting to buy it. Bwahahahaha! And if it *was* like the Grass device, they’d be so very sorry to get it, too.

I’m getting closer to getting the WIP in progress right. Got feedback from my agent today. I have some tweaks and a cool and interesting addition to make that I hadn’t thought of before and then, hopefully, I’ll be set.

Bon Jovi has a new album out. I want to get it. I remember seeing them for the Slippery When Wet Tour in Fresno with Cinderella opening.

My lovely and wonderful husband surprised me with flowers today. Terribly surprising, given he’s in Oregon. I cried. I admit it. Love that man. Miss him. Two weeks til I get to see him again.

All the Crosspointe books and two of the Path books (three will come soon), are available on Audible.com. I haven’t had a chance to listen yet, so if anyone has, how are they?

If you haven’t seen this, it’s hilarious. Poor sales guy.

By way of OMG funny, you need to watch this. The initial bit is about a minute long or so, and then the tale. Please watch. It’s so funny.

I ran across this one and thought it was pretty amusing.

ADULT:
A person who has stopped growing at both ends and is now growing in the middle.

BEAUTY PARLOUR:
A place where women curl up and dye.

CHICKENS:
The only animals you eat before they are born and after they are dead.

COMMITTEE:
A body that keeps minutes and wastes hours.

DUST:
Mud with the juice squeezed out.

EGOTIST:
Someone who is usually me-deep in conversation.

HANDKERCHIEF:
Cold Storage.

INFLATION:
Cutting money in half without damaging the paper.

MOSQUITO:
An insect that makes you like flies better.

RAISIN:
A grape with a sunburn.

SECRET:
Something you tell to one person at a time.

SKELETON:
A bunch of bones with the person scraped off.

TOOTHACHE:
The pain that drives you to extraction.

TOMORROW:
One of the greatest labour saving devices of today.

YAWN:
An honest opinion openly expressed.

WRINKLES:
Something other people have, similar to my character lines.

Boy: Mom, we’re all out of clean spoons.
Me: So wash some.
Boy: Could we use forks?
Me: Use spoons. Wash them.
Boy: *confused*
Me: take the sponge, put soap on it, wash.
Boy: But they’re all in the dishwasher
Me: And?
Boy: This is disgusting
Me: *rolls eyes*

I was Googling the Demon Lovers: Succubi antho, just to see if anyone had talked about it, and instead came across this, titled, Incubi and Succubi: Sexual Relations. It is, in a word, a primer on how to have sex with demons on an astral plane. This, it says, is particularly a good route for “those who are in prison or incarcerated in any way.” Well, that’s a no duh. Seriously. But anyhow, it goes on to explain how you go about having sex with a demon, from attracting and selecting one, to masturbating to help the process along. I’m not making this up.

Anyhow, as much as I laughed at this, it did spark an idea for a story. At least a the initial seeds of one. Just goes to show you can find stories anywhere.

On another note, I’ve been gutting Blood Winter and writing gobs more. It really isn’t the same book as before. It’s better, but I’m sad about losing some things.

Wanted pancakes today. Tried to find the local IHop but couldn’t. Didn’t want Denny’s. Guess I’ll have to get some stuff for making them.

Today I got a call from a friend who’d been attacked by a wooden chicken while cleaning and ended up with two broken bones, a chipped bone, and some ligament issues in one of her hands. This same friend is going to have significant surgery on Thursday. She tells me that it’s my fault. That my clod genes are catching, sort of like the flu. I’d like to tell her she’s totally wrong. Sadly, she might be right. Did I pass my clod cooties to her? Or was it a sign from above (it fell from above)? Or, did she make the singular and unholy mistake of cleaning? Was that the issue? I think maybe so. Anyhow, went to see her after the hospital visit, I gave her a bag of ice, wished her happy birthday, and laughed uproariously at her. I’m that way.

In the meantime, I’ve been revising. This is what it’s like. I am doing things to the front of the book, which, like cracks in a windshield, spread out through the book. Then I make more corrections, attempt to fix more cracks, and more cracks happen, digging further into the book. Rinse and repeat. (Am I madly mixing the metaphors or what?)

Anyhow, the process is a bit terrifying, since I’m not entirely certain that I’ll catch all the inconsistencies and cracks, or that the fixes I’m making are causing irreparable faults later in the manuscript. So what now crops up is a clash between getting the revisions done and terror of doing them wrong. I’m trying not to freeze solid.

In the meantime, hopefully I won’t be attacked by any wooden chickens.

This is an infographic on how a book is born. Beverage warning.