Oh the horror... the horror....

*roll eyes* There have been some suggestions *cough* Diana *cough* that the gargoyle below is naked and possibly naughty. Above is the uncropped version... where hopefully you can tell he is indeed wearing pants and his hand is TO THE SIDE and holding him onto the roof.

(GEEZ!!! Some people have dirty minds when it comes to gargoyle/human hybrids.)

(Although... if I had drawn him with no pants on... and with the connection to stone gargoyles... a lot of really dirty puns came to mind.)

WIP that Muse--The Challenge Accepted

So, Juliette and I were chatting on Twitter and a discussion about Metallica quickly shifted into a cage match between whose muse could beat up whose muse.

Say what?

I'm pretty sure it was mostly me. Juliette is somewhat normal and does normal things for a living. Anyway, so we're both posting excerpts from our muses' most recent efforts (ie our Work In Progress.) I started a really strange story last Friday.

It's a YA, but might end up being a horror. It's so hard to tell really. (Yeah, be afraid... be very afraid.) It deals with a guy named Gris who is a Draconian Watcher and turns into what resembles a gargoyle in order to control the darkness and destroy these wraith things called Shades. (The picture above is one I drew as a reference today. The kids say it looks nothing like a gargoyle.) A girl in the town is being bedeviled by these Shades and he tries to figure out why. (Her name is Piper, and she has OCD and bad things happen to her... and she is worried she is doing them while sleep-walking.) So, this WIP is at 25K and it's a first person with alternating POV from Gris and Piper.

Per the challenge, we're supposed to post 500 words and see whose muse is beefier and ready to rumble in this cage match.

So, two muse enter... one muse leaves. Here ya go, Juliette, hit me with your best shot.

This is "Shades of Obsession" and Gris is talking to his cousin Danny after visiting Piper's room that night and cleaning it of Shades. He is talking about what it's like being a Watcher.

“Great Uncle Critch said it was like being a God,” Danny said. He said it defensively. Like I should give him something to be jealous of. He wanted to be jealous.

“Have you ever seen a Shade?” I asked. No, he hadn’t. I knew that, but I needed to make a point.

“No.” He shrugged and sneered slightly. “They look like a ghost, right?”

“My dad said they used to call them bog men. They glow green and have no lower bodies unless they’re poulter-geisting it. Their eyes are black, so black that it seems beyond anything you’ve ever seen. They’ll climb on top of you and your bones ache with the cold of their hollow souls. They open their blood red mouths and inhale your memories. That’s why they hang around old people so much. They don’t need them. They just want something that you have.”

“But you get rid of them,” he said. His eyes looked glazed and intense. He was getting the full explanation. Most of the other Watchers didn’t share this much with non-Watchers.

I held up my hand and concentrated on my fingers. The sharp, black, two-inch talons slid out. It was hard to prevent the rest of the transform, but his mom would have my head if she heard of even this much. “If I can’t convince them to leave, I reach into their chests and yank out their hearts.”

I heard him swallow, a loud gulp in the darkness I controlled. He probably didn’t know about that part. It felt heavy and woolen around me and I could twist it around any lights and wink them out. I could hide in it. I could push it against Shades so they left until I was ready to deal with them.

There were so many in this town—too many for just me, but I hated to drag Dad down here. I had some pride, after all. The idea popped into my head just then. Danny wanted to feel the weight of being a Draconian Watcher. Alrighty then, Danny Boy.

“So, Uncle Critch may have felt like a God but he was dealing with the damned devil every day… for the rest of his life.” I enunciated each word. When I saw the shiver run through him that had nothing to do with the cold, I added, “There are so many Shades that I’ll probably need your help, Danny. Can I count on you to help me?”

It’d be like having a side-kick or a minion. I’d always wanted a minion.

“Yeah, sure.” He nodded. “Are we going to kill people too? Great Uncle Critch said….”

“NO!” Geez, what kind of crap had Critch been spreading? Probably came out after one of those Thanksgiving dinners when someone hadn’t switched Crazy Uncle Critch to water half-way through. “We don’t kill people!” I shook my hand until the talons went away.

“Never?”

Okay, my minion was a bit twisted if he was disappointed we wouldn’t be killing people.

“I’d be okay with that,” he said.

Holy geez… maybe I was really glad that the birthright had fallen to me.

“Uncle Critch said it wasn’t something you bragged about but sometimes it was just something you had to do. It was the only way. If a person got swarmed by them and they ate their brains.” Danny made a sucking sound while gesturing away from his ear with his hand.

Uncle Critch had killed people that Shades had driven mad?

“I figure that Piper is already there, so if we need to kill her….”

“Holy hell!” I shouted, possibly louder than necessary. “We’re not killing Piper.”

Danny grimaced and scowled. “You’re sure? Your dad probably would… you know, to save her,” he muttered.

I slid a hand across my eyes, blocking Danny and his disappointed face from my view. I needed a moment. “My dad wouldn’t, because it wouldn’t be saving her. It’d be killing her.”

“Well, whatever,” he said.

We’d need to revisit this topic.

Hunger Games Book club meeting

I have a book club meeting tonight. I've organized it but conned a friend into holding it at her house.

So, we're discussing The Hunger Games, and I made it a potluck BYOB (Bring your own bread) to go with our discussion. I'm not sure how many will show up. I picked Hunger Games because some had probably already read it. (I really liked it, btw.)

Here are the discussion questions I came up with (Some were taken or paraphrased from Scholastic's site):

1. How does Katniss feel about the country of Panem? Does she feel as strongly as Gale?

2. How do Katniss’s relationships define her personality? How does her early encounter with Peeta affect their relationship after they are chosen as tributes?

3. How are the "career tributes" different from the others? Which were more tragic—the tributes that had been raised to believe there was honor in killing others in the games, or those that were fighting to stay alive by receiving supplies through their entries into the draw?

4. When Peeta declares his love for Katniss in the interview, does he really mean it or did Haymitch create the "star-crossed lovers" story?

5. Before the Games start, Peeta tells Katniss, "I want to die as myself… I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not." Is he able to stay true to himself during the Games?

6. What are the most important skills Katniss has for staying alive - her knowledge of nature? - her skill with bow and arrow? - her trapping ability?

7. Why does Peeta join with the Career Tributes in the beginning of the Games? Why do they accept him when they start hunting as a group? Why do groups form in the beginning when they know only one of them will be able to survive?

8. What makes Katniss and Rue trust each other to become partners? What does Katniss gain from this friendship besides companionship?

9. Discuss the ways in which the Gamemakers control the environment and "entertainment" value of the Games. Does knowing that she is on live TV make Katniss behave differently than she would otherwise?

10. When does Katniss first realize that Peeta does care for her and is trying to keep her alive? When does she realize her own feelings for him? Are they actually in love?

11. What did you think of the contradiction that Katniss lived in a futuristic society but spent her days hunting primitively with a bow and arrow? Once the games began, did you occasionally forget that this book was set far in the future?

12. Reality TV has been a part of the entertainment world since the early days of television (with shows such as Candid Camera and the Miss America Pageant), but in the 21st century there has been a tremendous growth of competitive shows and survival shows. Discuss this phenomenon with respect to The Hunger Games. What other aspects of our popular culture do you see reflected in this story?

13. How did you feel when the first tribute was killed? When Rue died? When Katniss realized the wolves were the fallen tributes?

14. When do you think Katniss began to see a greater point to the games than just staying alive?

15. What minor characters played major roles in shaping Katniss’s view of the government… of herself? The Avox? Cinna? Her mother? Thresh?

16. Why did Katniss seem blind to the feeling of some around her especially Peeta? Was it her upbringing or that she couldn’t imagine a future where her children would be sacrificed to the Hunger Games?

17. What other books is The Hunger Games similar to?

18. This book is considered a dystopian (a vision of a society, often futuristic, characterized by human misery. Often the individual’s rights and needs are sacrificed to the benefit of government or what is considered right for the greater or moral good.) What past societies or governments have shared the brutality seen in Panem?

19. Why did the ruling class hold so much power in Panem? What signs of dissidence were shown throughout the book?

20. As this is a trilogy, do you think the trilogy will end with the fall of the Capitol? Who do you believe Katniss will choose in the final book—Peeta or Gale?

Lycra Suits

T's lycra suits arrived, so he wore them over the weekend. Today was the first Monday in a while that he didn't fight going to school. When he gets home, we'll put him back in a lycra suit. (They provide joint compression and deep pressure... which is what T needs when manic and when his body awareness is low.) He's even been sleeping in them. It's made a huge difference and I'm glad the Husband got a bonus so that we could afford to buy T lycra suits.

B is doing okay. She has been really emotional lately, but she is developing more of a personality also. She says things sometimes that are so typical. I'm not sure if they're "learned" responses from her peers, or spontaneous, but it doesn't matter, I guess.

I'm doing okay... sometimes. I've been dealing with a migraine since Saturday, and I taught a lesson in church yesterday. I have book club this week. (I'm not doing that book club that seems obsessed with historical fiction.) I need to finish reading the Hunger Games for book club on Thursday. I've got a lot of cleaning to get done. That'll be this week. I haven't been in writer mode as much lately. I think it's the stress from T's needs, but I dropped back on one of my OCD meds just in case. It's weird to think that I need my obsessions, but there you go. I do.

I need to go deal with this migraine and do some laundry.

Happy Monday, everyone.

Therapy Room Pictures

I took a few quick photos of the therapy room with my iphone while I was up there with T just now. In this picture, T is up in the maroon lycra hammock that is hanging from the ceiling. You can see their newest circular swing in the background. There is an ikea teardrop swing up front, and a platform swing off to the side. There are five or six hammocks of various materials hanging from the ceiling for T to climb through. Some are overlapped in layers and some he must crawl across. You can see some of the boards up there on the ceiling, but you can't see any of the hooks attacked to them. They're interspersed across the boards and the swings and hammocks are all on heavy-duty carabiners.

Here is T on his latest favorite swing. He can get a good spin on it and he uses his legs to push off the wall. There is a mattress in back of him that his sometimes dives onto from the hammocks or the swing.

The ballpit is off to the side there with all of the balls in it.

In the corner next to the ball pit (out of sight) is a full hamper of the beanie babies that were in the ball pit before. I'm sitting on a giant crash pad--a gigantic bean bag filled with foam. I'll have to take more pictures when I have a little more time. I can probably get better shots of the whole place in the right light. Anyway.... This is where I've been spending hour upon hour every day lately.

Shelf-bait

So, I've been reading quite a bit lately, and it's muddled up my inner voice, but dealing with T's issues would have done that anyway. Anyway, I was reading a book by one of my favorite authors and in the forward she mentions that it was her debut novel and not as polished as the others. Honestly, you sort of expect this sort of self-depreciation among authors... well... most authors. I know that Stephanie Meyers has said as much about Midnight Sun which went viral and was thus never finished but is widely regarded online has her best work. So, self-depreciation usually doesn't speak to anything other than a polite sort of humility.

WHOA.... let me be the first to admit, there was much depreciation justified in this case. I mean, her later books have shown that she is talented beyond measure, so it's very interesting to read a book that just... well, frankly, it sucks. It was painful to read. It was an adverbial quagmire of awful. The male protagonist has the "voice" and "POV" of a Disney princess. Everything was so contrived that it was a caricature of fiction--nearly a parody. There are no words to describe how little of a plot or conflict was present. I can't figure out how this book was published or how it managed to be so long. I finished it purely for the reason of finishing it. In short, this book should have been drawered or shelved. Several flavors of awful.

On the other hand, it was charming to read a book that was a first work of an author clearly before she came into her own and really learned to write. It made me think of my own writing. I find myself grateful that things didn't happen so quickly that I found an agent for my first... or second... or even fifth book. I've learned so much from writing and more writing and even more writing. The books I learned to write on... are currently shelved... the whole series is, actually. Maybe if I was a much slower writer, that would bother me, but I find myself thinking that it was worth the time it's taken for me to improve as a writer. I've learned so much in the year and a half I've been at this.

Yesterday, I was shocked to discover that the book I took the excerpt from might not be drawer-bait. When I wrote the book, it was painful to finish because it came in so short... and it was meant to be that short. Adding onto it... well it would have seemed like padding something. I loved the premise of the book. I did so much research for the book. Seeing it drawered was killing me, but adding to it just wasn't right. From the beginning, I'd meant for the book to be right for the same crowd as Ella Enchanted. I wrote it with that in mind. For some reason, it never occurred to me that it would thus be placed in a mid-grade slot instead of a YA slot. The length for mid-grade is right around the length I had. Yesterday, I was nearly giddy that I wasn't going to be forced to leave the book languishing in the drawer. I was so excited that I wanted to query right away to see if an agent was as excited as I was. (Di rained on my crazy parade... luckily. That's why it's important for a pragmatic half of the brain.)

I have things I should be doing today. My lungs are putting me to sleep, though. I can't believe how tired I am. I need to go get some tires replaced on my SUV. The son had a rough night last night, so I'll need to work on therapy right when he comes home.

Daylight Savings Time wipes me out. My internal clock is rigid and forcing my mind to accept the time change in spring... doesn't work. It takes weeks and sometimes months for me to adjust. I struggle with depression and insomnia and it's truly miserable. So, have a little faith in me as I try to cope with the stress of the son's issues and my own. I'll be weird and grumpy for a bit, but I'll pull out of it soon. I'm cutting back on the modifications I made to my OCD meds. There are times when obsession is timely... and benefits my kids... this is one of those times. Isn't that just odd and a little sad? I think so, but it was perfect for B's first few years. Without my obsession, she'd never have come as far as she has. The cost was great, but so were the benefits. OCD is a complicated problem and nothing is as simple as what you see. Plus, I don't even know who I am without OCD. I'm not certain if anything of me exists without its constraints. It's that pervasive.

By May, I should be back to normal... well, my version of normal. ;)

Have a fantastic Tuesday, everyone... if you've opted to accept that it is indeed Tuesday. Some of you may be choosing to have two Wednesdays this week and, to those, I can only say, "Bravo!"

PG Love Fest

Okay... I'm totally in love with blog fests... and I don't know why, but I am. This one: The PG Love Scene Love Fest intrigued me.

(Scene swiped back)

Friday--I'm in love

This has been an intense week. T is really struggling with his sensory issues. I've been spending an hour a day in the therapy room with him and two hours on Wednesday. I've been trying to adjust my OCD meds with some success and some failure. Also, I sent out a bunch of queries this week and I've now sent in five submission requests. (Two on Honor, three on Scorched) I'm really excited, but trying to remain pessimistic enough so I can deal with whatever comes with some degree of dignity.

T's therapy has made this week intense. B has been having a bit of a "week" also. She's been very emotional.

I'm so glad my husband is so wonderful and supportive. He's been so good about letting me do this writing thing... and hasn't complained that the house is in chaos... and things don't always get done.

I did get two feet of hair cut and donated to Locks for Love. (It was down past my waist, but not as healthy as I would like it.) The kids haven't noticed yet. Actually, few people I've seen since my hair cut have noticed. I assume that's because of my "stealth" mode of living. I'm like James Bond... really.

That's my week. Some good. Some bad. Some hair loss. Same old... same old...

Have a great weekend everyone!

Yay... not bad for a Monday

I sent out a few queries on Scorched yesterday, and already had a request for a full today. I'm excited. So, today, I wrote a synopsis and sent out a few more queries, but I spent so much time on each one that I'm tired now and my brain is hurting. Anyway... yay... I'm back into querying. I've had a few rejection-free holidays so I think I've broken the holiday rejection curse.

Everyone is really backed-up, though, so I might not hear on the manuscripts or queries for a while.

Keep your fingers crossed. :)

Flash Fiction Friday (marbles/gargoyles/code red)

I put Honor's prologue in the blog that I'm using for her. You can access it from the side panel by clicking on the book cover.

Okay... it's flashy fiction time. If you don't already visit Flashy Fiction... you should. http://flashyfiction.blogspot.com/ Seriously, what are you waiting for? Here are the prompts and pieces I wrote this week:

March 1st

Prompt:

Bad is never good until worse happens. -Danish Proverb

Mine:

This sucked. This was hell. He felt crowded and filthy. Safety in numbers? What a joke. Later--after they'd passed out supplies, he'd get away from this crowd. All he could smell was sweat and dirt... and people. Too many people.

"Whatcha got there?" the girl asked, sitting down beside Nate. She dropped a backpack at her feet as she leaned against the wall beside him, crowding him. They were all crowding him.

All that remained alive were sitting beside a concrete wall in the dead part of town waiting for the week's distribution of food and water. This was it. Everyone alive was right here... crowding him.

When the entire city fried via the atomic pulse, only the less industrial dead side of town survived. The dead side. It was interesting that the dead side of town survived, in Nate's opinion. Ironic. As if a higher power was laughing at technology. He tossed the super round rock from hand to hand. It looked like a rock carved into a sphere.

"It's a rock, isn't it?" she asked, gesturing. "Did you make it?"

"I found it," Nate said, continuing to toss the rock from hand-to-hand.

"It's weird," the teenage girl beside him said. "It looks like a giant marble." She was his age and, truth to be told, probably cute underneath the grime of two weeks of rubble hell.

"Yeah... there were a bunch of them. Other people found them too. Maybe it's a sign.... or something," Nate said. He didn't really know what he was saying, but her nearness was doing funny things to his stomach. There was the rumble of hunger that was always present... but something else tickled his insides. Anticipation of... what?

Her eyes followed path of the rock. "Do you ever get the feeling that maybe there are bigger forces at work and we're just a game?" She was leaning closer to him, though she probably didn't realize it. Her dirty hand clutched at his soiled sleeve. He didn't mind it so much.

"You're hung up on the marbles thing," Nate said, trying not to smile.

"There are weird things happening out there," she whispered.

Someone walking by quickly snatched the bag from in front of her and took off running with it.

"HEY! My food!" she shouted, trying to get to her feet.

Nate beamed the thief with the rock and he fell in a heap. She retrieved the bag and his rock, leaving the thief where he fell.

"We should stick close together," Nate said to her. "Pool our resources and protect each other." He'd seen one of the bigger guys, glancing her way and checking out her legs. Yeah. She needed him and being needed... sounded pretty damn good. Plus, she had food to share.

She smiled... a flash of white against her dusty skin. Dropping the rock into his hand, she said, "My name's Ali... that sounds good." She sat even closer than before, and Nate glared at the guy checking her out.

"Yeah. Close together," he repeated. He put her backpack beside his and looped his leg through both the shoulder straps. The rock began its arc again.

March 4th

Prompt:

edifice

strategic

cold

Mine:

At the top of the imposing edifice to the age of industrialism sat a curious sight. A gargoyle... hunched over his feet with a scowl so fierce it was at odds with the smooth, cold marble facade of the building that now housed, of all things, law offices. The gargoyle had always been there though no one knew why. It wasn't in the building's plans. It didn't fit.

The building's owner had considered having it removed, but there was something about its sinister expression and the long, sharp claws on its hands and feet. The owner wasn't superstitious. Modern above anything else. Progress was his by-word. The inside of the building had been remodeled time and time again. Yet, the gargoyle remained. Its rough-hewn eyes watched the city below. Waiting. Always waiting.

It was no accident that it had been placed there. No... no accident at all. It's strategic placement, facing the sun just so... as its back welcomed the night was cunning of the one who'd placed it there.

An autumn sunset just as the penthouse's occupant stood after a long day. He stretched his stiff back as his hand flicked a laptop shut. Another day gone.

The gargoyle's leg shifted. A wing twitched. A new time began.

March 5th

Prompt:

Forgetting something important?

Mine:

For six months, we'd sat on either side of her... two code monkeys side-by-side with a goddess. During the summer, she had a fan in front of her that would blow her soft honey-colored hair in the air and sometimes... she'd dip forward and pull her shirt away from her skin so the breeze could cool her luscious body too. Usually, we just sat beside her salivating, but once Duane had been walking by in front of her when she'd done this and tripped spilling an entire Code Red on the floor in front of her desk.

Alanna. Even her name was beautiful and slightly elven.

So, it was just after seven p.m. on a Friday and while Alanna had left, Duane and I were still plugging away at our computer. The scent of her hair... which also smelled of honey... was still in the air. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

I'd been staring at my computer screen for twenty minutes while thinking of her. Duane noticed and threw a Cheeto at me, laughing.

"You should give it up. She doesn't even know your name," he said.

"I'm pretty sure she thinks of you as Code Red guy," I muttered... eating the Cheeto.

There was a loud beep over the speaker system above us, and it was as if we'd summoned her voice directly from the heavens. "Guys, I need to get in for something but I left my card key at home. I hope one of you is there to let me in. If you are... I'll buy you a drink... this is really important." There was a soft purring sigh in her voice... a sadness nearly palpable. She needed me.

I jumped to my feet just as Duane did the same.

"I got this!" I yelled, sprinting for the elevator.

"Like hell you do," he said, running too. We stopped at the elevator, pounding the down button alternately.

"I got this," I said, slapping his hand away.

"Whatever... she doesn't know you exist," he said, shoving me. He was really weak. I barely budged. Alanna deserved better.

"Guys?" her voice said, over the speaker. "Duane? Trenton?"

"Coming!" I shouted.

"We're on the fourth floor, moron," Duane said, shoving me again. "She can't hear you. Geez... the stairs would be faster than this...."

I bolted for the stairs while Duane was still finishing that thought. He caught me one flight down, slamming me into the wall. I tasted blood. He'd pay for that. I jumped over the rail down to the next flight of stairs. It was risky. I have weak ankles, but it put me ahead of him. He caught me again, diving at my mid-section. Wow... weak but fast and wiry. I slid out of the way at the last second, and he hit the wall. I had one flight left, and I shoved through the stairwell door seconds ahead of Duane. Since the stairwell door was in sight of the front door where Alanna stood... I was the victor and Duane hung back swearing and not wanting to appear overly eager.

She was there in a brief red dress that clearly didn't have pockets. In fact, I don't think she was even able to wear underwear underneath. It hugged her curves as if it had been photoshopped on at the last minute. I could barely breathe as I let her in.

"Oh... thank you," she squealed, leaning forward to hug me. She smelled like honey and... Alanna. I choked on my tongue. "I just knew you'd be here, Duane."

"Uhh, Trenton," I said. It was sad that she'd both knew I'd be here and called me by the wrong name, but I was willing to overlook that... especially when she looked at me as if seeing me for the first time.

"Trenton," she repeated, her voice breathy.

I thanked the God of Nerds which occasionally smiled down upon me and let hot girls forget something important.

Running through....

I've got stuff to do today, so I'm just really streaking through here today. (It's true. Underneath all my clothes I'm naked.)

Through a strange twist that I just realized.... my 100th followers contest announcement... was my 200th post. Go figure.

My good friend, Amber, is having a birthday today... and is in crisis mode. (It's silly because she looks like an infant, of course... well... slightly older than an infant, but anyway.) Happy Birthday, Amber!

I'm still working on adjust my OCD meds so my sleep cycle is completely insane right now. My body wakes up after four hours of sleep no matter what I do. I have no idea why. So, my brain feels a bit... slow to the starting line.

My good friend scheduled our all girl Disneyland trip for the end of April yesterday. It's official. My "Save My Sanity" weekend away from the kids is almost here. My sister, Heidi, is coming with us this year. It'll be awesome.

T is not doing well... in fact, I haven't seen him this bad for a while. He's very, very manic. He got his hair cut a week and a half ago, and that might be the problem. Well, not just the haircut. It's being out of therapy, getting a haircut, losing some of his teeth, and school. He's started having accidents again and has been getting violent and manic. It's really not good. He's officially outside our insurance's acceptable age for neuro-developmental therapy now also. So, if we don't get it under control and handled... we'll be paying $120 per 50 minute session until we can. I don't think we'll need to do that, but it's been a while since I've seen his sensory system this disorganized. He's also taken to wandering around muttering to himself all the time. I gave him caffeine gum before school to soothe him when he tried to take a swipe at me while shouting. Oy.

Tomorrow, B has her big school project due, and the husband is coming home early to help her prepare. She is doing a presentation (probably Power Point) on computers.

The husband is very stressed out. He was "on call" all last week and, then, some of the servers he's responsible for having been acting up. (I think it's something to do with that anyway. My memory is very, very, very short due to the meds right now. I keep having to look to see what day it is. Yesterday is completely gone in my memory.) Also, the husband's commute was extra-long due to delays at every section... including someone leaving their car on the ferry by accident. (Some people alternate between walking on and taking a car and forget and leave their car.) So, the ferry got held up at one spot while they made sure the car didn't belong to someone who'd committed suicide by jumping overboard. (It's so strange and sad... and the ferry would have to turn around and comb the waters if they hadn't reached the person. It was just a forgetful commuter, though.) So, the poor husband didn't get home until 7:30 last night. (It was nearly a three hour commute, I believe.)

Okay, so that's what is going on right now. I heard back from that one hour query thing. I'd submitted Re:Straint. Her primary recommendation is that I don't mention the Mom's POV. It was a pass also, but I was really looking more for help with my query anyway.

So, I have a full out on Scorched, and a partial out on Honor... and no queries out really. (There are a few I'm calling "no response" on.) So, I really need to get some focus and concentrate on something. I should have queries out, but... I'm feeling a bit "meh" about it.

Some other day, maybe.

Have a good.... uhh... Tuesday... or whatever day it is for you.

There is nothing like a live draw....

Sorry... that was a vampire joke... sort of.

I just drew the name from my hat. *Live on Twitter* Actually, Honor drew the name.

Here is the dialogue if you're curious and have a twitter account:

http://twitter.com/#/list/HonorEllery/seattlesovereignty

It was a ... process.

Alta won, though!!!!

Yay!!!!

Okay, back to our regular programming. ;)