When you meow at the door, wanting to be let in, then PLEASE COME IN instead of standing there, sniffing the doorframe, and deciding whether you REALLY want to enter the abode where your fricking food is. I swear to God, I’m going to shut the door in your cute little face next time!
kthxbai,
Meljean
P.S. *sob sob* Okay, I wouldn’t shut it in your cute wittle face. It’s true: I’m totally pussy-whipped.
The #1 reason I’ll be glad to see 2009 go? I’ve spent a good portion of it in my bed, coughing up my lungs, or blowing it into a tissue.
Guess how I feel today?
Bllllllllllllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeergh.
Good-bye, 2009. I hope you catch what I have and die.
1) Forget that you were also lightening your hair. My crappy camera doesn’t capture how pale pale pale my roots are (when it was wet out of the shower, I looked bald) and how bright orange-sherbet the rest is.
I think I will call this color: Flickering Candle on a Winter’s Day.
Flickering Candle on a Winter's Day MB#2874
(No, I didn’t cut my hair. I just pulled it back really tightly, so that I wouldn’t see it out of the corner of my eye and think my house was on fire.)
Also, that orange note in the background is my plotting note for Demon Blood, Chapter 21. It says: DEACON REALIZES WHAT AN ASS HE IS.
–My husband, after I dared to step on the scale for the first time in a year, and realized that I’d gained 10 lbs.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKK!”
–My husband, two seconds later.
“Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhhh!”
–Meljean, minute 30 in the gym this morning.
Arrrrrrrgggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!
W000000000000000000000000000000000T!
*soooooooooooooooooooooooooobbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb*
D’oh!
Yayayayayayayay!
Gah!!
LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL! LMAO! LMFAO! ROTFLMAO!
WTF?
*cries*
*headdesk*
*crazy happy dance*
…okay, I’m almost ready for the release. Reviews are coming in (like this one). I’m putting my head down and going to pretend not to see (until, of course, I do a round up next week while massively pimping my book. I’m buying a pimp hat just for the occasion.)
…while cooking spaghetti. (Or actually, a variation of spaghetti, with shell pasta instead of spaghetti noodles, because I’m really tired of spaghetti.)
But apparently the pasta gods didn’t like that, and made my big toe pay the price.
Also, I’m no longer a JR Ward virgin. But that has nothing to do with a) my dinner or b) my big toe, and so I will talk about it later on another blog post.
There’s only one way: tuna fish and noodles, which I made today as comfort food since my plans for the weekend, such as GOING UP TO SEATTLE TO DO RESEARCH AND MOSTLY TO CELEBRATE RICHELLE‘S NEW RELEASE, SUCCUBUS BLUES, IN STORES NOW! are totally shot.
*huff*
*huff*
This crap isn’t as good as I remember it, either. Maybe I need to mix in some peas and crush some Saltines in it, because I’m not feeling the comfort. Actually, it’s kind of gross. Great. Now am I not only missing a party, but have become a haughty lower-middle-class beeeeyotch who can’t appreciate the finer things in life, like tuna noodles.
I still like Mac & Cheese though (but only the generic brand kind. Kraft isn’t so good.)
So, I’ve mentioned before that I make a music playlist for my WIP. A lot of the songs I originally had were country-slanted, but except for a few, that didn’t work out. The feel of the WIP has changed too much for me, but I couldn’t find the exact sound I was looking for … until the other day, when I was watching an X-Files rerun, and I thought about the David Duchovny song, and then I remembered: Bree Sharp!
Like most X-Philes, I bought the A Cheap and Evil Girl CD just for the David Duchovny song … but the whole CD was pretty damn good. She’s got kind of a scratchy voice, and her lyrics are smart, modern and cynical, but without being nihilistic. And a few of the songs are EXACTLY what I’m trying to capture for the WIP.
But I can’t find my CD. I’ve turned the house upside-down today looking for it, and I can’t find it. So I calm myself down, and think: okay, I’ll just buy it on iTunes.
Except it’s not available. *sob* Only a few tracks in a live concert version, and I really prefer the original studio recordings.
So I go to Amazon. They only have used copies (or a new copy for $75). I don’t know about you, but there’s something that just eeks me out about buying a used CD. I can buy used books, used clothes, whatever — but a used CD? Maybe it’s because I’m not all that careful with mine (obviously, since I’ve lost it) but I just don’t like the idea. I’m still looking for a new copy (Tower Records doesn’t have one, and even though I’ve searched the bittorrents, there’s nothing) … and I’m about to buy the used copy. Gah!
But at least the WIP will start sounding right.
LINK OF THE DAY: Here’s a bit of irony. At Bree Sharp’s Myspace site, she has a couple of her music videos from YouTube linked … and one has been removed for copyright violation.
So, DEMON MOON has a page at Amazon.com (I’ve been checking pretty much daily so that I can put the link up on the website) an ISBN, and an estimated page count (I imagine someone takes the manuscript and word count and sends the estimated final page count with the initial info).
480pp.
*headdesk*
DEMON ANGEL’s was 432pp, and it’s a dollar more than every other debut author’s book out there.
*headdesk*
I’ve got to stop this. My editor ended up being okay with DA’s length because she thought the story was good and there wasn’t anything superfluous that could/shoud be cut out, but I still felt like crap, because that’s not what it’s supposed to be. That’s not what I was contracted to write. I want to be professional, right? And yet I’m setting myself up as an overpriced problem author.
Even though I’m really nice; no, I’m a problem in other ways … overwriting ways.
And then I put together all of DM’s chapters just before I sent it out (my last computer died and the file was corrupted before I got my new laptop … but I didn’t risk having the whole document all in one until the last couple of days or so before deadline … and then I hit word count … and almost cried. Actually, I think I did) and it was even longer.
This new one, I swear, will not get over 120K.
(It’s only supposed to be 100K, but I’m trying to be realistic.)
And, hey, since I’m on a self-pity party.
To my car (part deux):
Eff you. I hope you enjoy your overnight stay in the Target parking lot.
To Target:
Eff you. Next time you should totally have the new Kresley Cole.
To Dean Koontz:
Thank you for writing something that I can read on the bus when Target effs up Kresley Cole.
Phew. All better now. :joker:
