I am heading down to my parents’ house tomorrow morning (with my laptop). While everyone else is cooking, I’ll be writing … which is probably for the best, as my culinary skills are not legendary. Yesterday I took a day and made sure I had all of the story threads mapped out through Michael’s book (the eighth full-length novel), and they all fell nicely into place. I hope they stay that way during the writing. 

A couple of people have asked, but DEMON DAWN doesn’t have an official release date yet. I turn it in February, so that means it’ll be at least Fall ’09 … but later than that is more likely. This is, by the way, because of me and not the publisher — writing this year seemed to take twice as long as before, so even though I’m back on track, there’s a gap. 

The MUST LOVE HELLHOUNDS anthology will be out this summer, though — and I’m working to get a free read up on the site that will be a nice prequel to DEMON DAWN and the upcoming arc, as well as an intro to anyone new to the series. That will probably be late summer. 

So, that’s next year. For now, have a great holiday if you’re in the U.S., and if not, have a great week, anyway

(Oh! and don’t forget that the BUY A BOOK, WIN $100 contest has been extended to Nov 30!)

1) The mini meat cleaver that came in the Hillshire Farms gift pack that your sister bought on sale after Christmas last year — and you aren’t really sure if she bought it for herself or if she planned to give it away this year (because summer sausage lasts a disturbingly long time), but it doesn’t really matter any more because you opened the package — makes an excellent pizza cutter. 

2) You can eat microwavable pancakes with the plastic knife that came with McDonald’s Southwest Chicken Salad. The fork would have been more handy, but you used that for the salad, so what the hell are you supposed to do? 

3) When you finally do have time to do the dishes again, messing around with your blog template is much, much, much more appealing. Not that updating the theme is just an excuse to put it off. It really needed to be done. (And if you prefer the old theme, you can use the drop down menu to the right to switch back to the Lazy Meljean theme.)

Hmm. Now, it’s time to write. So I guess I’ll hold off on those dishes for a little while longer … I think I have a spork in one of the drawers somewhere that desperately wants to be used, anyway.

So, yesterday I was at the school picking up my daughter and husband, and had to kill a little time before we went home. So I took my daughter out to the playground, where a second-grader was doing a cherry-drop off of the bars.

Only her cherry-drop wasn’t what I’d always thought of as a cherry-drop (which is when you hang from your knees, swing until you get high enough, then flip off.) So I showed her that, then a few other things that I hadn’t done in twenty years.

And completely amazed myself that I could do them. Amazed her, too. So I showed her how to do them, and she picked it up fast.

Her parents will probably kill me when she slips for the first time and ends up cracking her knees coming out of a death drop, but she’s going to be the queen of the playground for a little while.

But me … well, I was awesome for about two hours. First were the blisters (oh, how I remember those from elementary school. Every autumn, I had blisters until the calluses hardened my palms into steel. Now, my weenie hands are only good for typing.)

And my Achilles’ tendon is sore. Ouch ouch. I landed way too hard on a couple of those dismounts.

But worst are the backs of my knees. I bruise easily, but you should see the suckers behind my knees. It’s like someone whacked me with a baseball bat. And my back muscles are tight.

So I’m hobbling around and thinking, why oh why?

Yesterday, I was ten again. Today, I’m getting a good look at seventy.

Why, oh why?

I told you that November 4th was an important day. What I didn’t tell you, because I don’t share my cynicism with you just yet, is that last November 4th I’d have said I really didn’t think this could happen. Because I haven’t told you this, either, but your daddy has had the n-word shouted at him more than once since we’ve been married — not because he’s black, but because his skin isn’t white, and despite our living in a neighborhood where hatred like that supposedly doesn’t exist anymore. 

But last night, I sat on the sofa with you, watching a mixed-race man give his victory speech. I don’t know if the man America has elected will be able to follow through on his campaign promises. Maybe so, maybe not. Here’s what I do know: Already, the world you’ll grow up in is different than the one your mommy did. But more importantly, the world you’ll have is different than the one your daddy did, a world that has dreams that aren’t just dreams now, but possibilities — and realities.

And so when you tell me that you want to be President, and that maybe you can “be the first girl President,” I can say — and believe – that maybe you can. 

But considering that you’re five, and that you’ve got thirty years to go before you’re even eligible to run for that office, I trust you’ll forgive me when I hope you aren’t the first. 

The second or third would be awesome, though.

No, I haven’t weaned myself. But to save money, I have stopped going to Starbucks every morning for my triple mocha, and have been downing tons of Diet Pepsi instead.

And I’ve lost about five pounds*.

…maybe I should also take up smoking? I know I should be drinking, because that is the writerly thing to do, but I’d just get sleepy. Would rum & Diet Pepsi cancel each other out?

*although there might be other factors, like fasting from sunrise to sundown for the past month**
**which I do not recommend to anyone who will be at a book signing when they should be eating***
***but will also partially explain the dorkery that will probably soon show up on Ciara’s blog****
****unless she managed to edit it all so that I look somewhat coherent*****
*****although I doubt there’s a video-editing program in the world that could manage that

I gave one of my daughter’s kindergarten friends a ride home today. Currently, I’m driving my FIL’s Corolla — he’s out of state for a while, so I’ve been switching between cars so that neither one is sitting for weeks on end — which doesn’t have any of the extras. Even the extras that aren’t really extras anymore.

So, when I opened the door to let her out of the back seat, she points at the door and says, “What’s that?” For a second, I have no idea what she’s talking about — then I realize it’s the lever that rolls the window down.

So I told her, suddenly feeling like a Luddite. But her response was “Oh, cool! Can I try it?”

So she had a fantastic time rolling the window up and down, up and down — and I was standing there, thinking how I did that the first time my mom got a car with power windows.

Dear Meljean,

Really, you know better than to try pepping up your hair color at home. But if you must do it, please remember that ‘copper shimmer’ ends up looking more like ‘ruby fusion.’ Very dark ruby fusion*.

If you can do that one little thing, I think we will get along much better in the future.

Thank you,
Your Hair

*the picture didn’t come out. But it is something like this. Only a little more purplish.

ETA: Through the magic of Photoshop, I have a better example. And I have also given myself the thick, lustrous curls that I have always wanted.

…and am oh-so-tired. Whoa.

Recap of the last couple of days: nephew, born; daughter’s birthday party, finished (next year I might do something like Chuck E. Cheese’s, even though I HATE that place, because, man … I am not an organized arranger-party person. Luckily, the weather turned out nice (after two weeks of freaking cold, rainy weather, it finally warmed up in time for the party)); preschool graduation, survived; get-together with people from my alma mater, over; second visit to see nephew and Father’s Day bbq, done (with only two tears shed for gasoline prices). Upcoming: family reunion.

Real accomplishment: I have convinced my daughter that we don’t need to listen to Toddler Tunes anymore.

Questionable accomplishment: This is my (almost 5-year-old) daughter’s new favorite song.

She asks, “can we listen to the zombie song?” Or, the “little girl” song, which is here in a Dr. Who fan-vid.

Yeah. She’s so going to grow up emo. These were both songs that were on my Demon Night soundtrack (although “Fallen” has become more of a theme song for the series to me (others include McLachlan’s “Full of Grace” and The Verve’s “Bittersweet Symphony.”) The Cranberries probably won’t be on the soundtrack for the new, as-yet-untitled book (it’ll probably sound a lot more like Demon Angel‘s than Demon Night‘s) but the others will.

I think Toddler Tunes might have a happier message.  The question is: can my sanity take another few years of it?

I think not. So, emo-kid it is.

Anyway, the accomplishment that was not really done this weekend (actually, since I got news that my sister was in the hospital)? Writing.

And so back I go.

How in the world did you get so cute?

Posts on women. Strong women. Real women. And misconceptions, too.

Dave Sim vs Gail Simone (Gail Simone is the current Wonder Woman writer, but that’s only part of the reason why I love her. Responses like this are the other part.)

A Pajiba review of Lipstick Jungle

Should I add Karen’s post, too? (NSFPWDWTTAPRN*)

ETA: The Robin Morgan essay. No matter who you are supporting, this is an amazing piece of writing, and worth reading (and talking about, online or off).

*Not Safe For People Who Don’t Want To Think About Politics Right Now