A STONING, A STONING!

Everybody get your fake beards! It's a Stoning!!!! SQUEEEEEE! I mean *lowers voice* squeeeee.

Who is being stoned?! Why ME of course!!!



RaShelle Workman has passed on the Award created by Alex Cavanaugh to support his book release! ALEX will be my guest, in just about a months time, but in the MEANTIME, here is his CassaStar BOOK TRAILER! (because I'm groovy that way)

Now this AWARD is what it is because Alex loves music as much as he loves movies, which is to say A LOT, and he passed it to RaShelle because she is FABULOUS. And RaShelle passed it to ME, because I am NAKED!



So now that I HAVE all this POWER! BUWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA



*cough*



Erm... Now that I've been passed this award, I want to do the Tart thing and SPREAD THE LOVE!!!!



So I am passing the YOU ROCK Award (I'd love to pass it to all of you, but Alex was excited about a more organic sprawl, so like he and RaShelle, I am limiting the pass on...) to:



*drum roll*

Jenny at Old Kitty for being a SUPERSTAR commenter, and fabulous blogger (and Charlie really needs a diamond collar)



Lisa at That's Why for telling it like it is.



And for similar reasons, Deb and Barbara at The Middle Ages



Charmaine at Wagging Tales because everytime she posts a 'how to' on writing, I want to book mark it. Somehow the way she puts it speaks to me and gets across things I hadn't previously grasped.



Leigh at That's Write for being my newest blogging BFF and sharing many great convos ranging from writing to philosophy.





***



FYI, it is Mr. Tart's Birthday... he doesn't LIKE birthdays , but there it is...



And some less fun news...

Work is swamped. Home is swamped. Children are home, husband is crabby. I have been behind on commenting since Monday, and it will AT LEAST continue today, as I have a deadline. I apologize for my absence, but If you want to think of me, it is as easy as GETTING NAKED! I promise to be better as soon as I get this deadline behind me!

Goods on The Contract

I waited on this until today, because I wasn't clear on a couple things. The BIGGIE is language that says I can't use my pseudonym in any OTHER promotional advertising, etc. which sent me into a panicked spiral as to whether I could use it for website, blog, etc. (as those--one in existence, the other only conceptual as of yet--are INTENDED to work for ALL my work).  I worried briefly that I'd have to take the pen name off my blog, facebook, etc. But I contacted Ellen (my agent) with my questions, and my primary concern—HELLO... all this promotional effort as HART—won't that help with book sales for ALYSE? (see how clever I was?  Always disguise your own self interest as the questionee's self interest... it is part of my Naked World Domination plans.)  So now I can get naked... and wet...



I officially have permission from Berkeley to include Alyse on my HART blog and HART website (did you see my wipe my brow there?  I was seriously worried... it happens when you get naked before you know if nudists are allowed). I just can't use it to push other works (except in communication with agents/publishers to prove my track record).



So THERE! Now I can talk about it.





First, A Confession



My only college 'C' was business law. Yes... to some of you this makes me a hopeless geek and to some of you, you are BAFFLED that I didn't get straight As, but there you have it... I was an A/B student with an aversion for law.



I suppose that's not so surprising, given who I am, and how averse I am to rules in all OTHER forms. Why should I keep stuff in my head I never intend to honor?  And what the heck does that mean to me where a contract is concerned, besides the fact I will have a heck of a time understanding it because I DON'T LIKE RULES!

Contrarian Me



But when it comes to something I SIGN... see, now THAT is different. If I give my WORD then I am going to honor it, even if that is a form of rule-following. Signing, even if I am signing onto RULES makes it personal and I am obligated.



Which of course means I HAVE to understand the darned thing.





That is why with this contract I wanted to really understand what I was signing on for before signing my name... and ONE of those details was whether Alyse had to go underground or not. Fortunately, she doesn't.  You know what THAT means?  I get to SHARE with you!!!!





Some Stats





Requirements



Books: 3 for now... if any more, ALL to be renegociated.

Words per book: 75K

Dates: Dec 31, 2010, Sept 30, 2011, June 30, 2012



Rates: So this is secret so it's in secret code—you remember how this works, right? If you want to break the rules and look at the dollars, HIGHLIGHT.

Advance: $5,000 per book, split over CONTRACT, Book to Publisher, and Book Published.

Royalty rates (based on cover price):

Hard Copy: 10% for 1st 5,000; 12.5% next 5K; 15% thereafter. (10% exports)

Mass Market: 8% first 150K, 10% after (5% export)

Hard Copy Book Club (sold at 60% or more discount from cover): 5% received by publisher

NOTE: I am never buying at Sam's Club or Target... man, I had no CLUE how much less the author got. Repeat after me: discount at bookstore, fine. Non-bookstore BAD. Just say NO to Wallmart!

Back to the rates:

Trade Paperback (what most of these will be, by the way): 7.5% (unless at 52% discount, then 5%)

Publisher e-Books: 25%

E-books sold to others 30% (but 30% of what publisher gets which is less)

Movie rights-depends how much is 'book specific' versus broad concept.

So there.



That is the goods on a contract of the variety where the idea originated with the publisher, but the writing is done by the writer.

Toilets and Editing

So because it is summer, we thought forcing our children into labor was a nice character-building experience (though our children are much older and less content than this laboring child). Our son, ever the miser, is pretty much willing to do anything for money. Our daughter, on the other hand, thinks her time is worth a treasure trove, and there is nothing we could pay her that would be equal to the work time she puts in. We have to disallow all social contact until certain requirements are met, because she is 'all that' otherwise, she will do NOTHING.



Her task yesterday was the bathroom. She cleans much like my husband, but even MORE annoyingly superficially. My husband hates my piles and stacks, but he's never lifted a THING to clean under it. He tidies, I SCRUB. My daughter doesn't even angle to clean the exposed, but not obvious, just yet.



Oddly though, she was thoroughly offended with my RECLEANING the toilet.



And thus begins the writing metaphor.





Sometimes we WANT to know... we want to keep improving... and sometimes we just prefer to get away with what we can. It depends on our goals, I suppose... and how much of ourselves we invest in the identity.



My daughter has no identity whatsoever tied up in our toilet (which is probably good, cleanliness notwithstanding). I suppose that means the bathroom is NOT her book.





But what does it mean for the rest of us?





So do we want a white glove test of our stuff? Do we want to be our own worst critic, obsessed with the quality of EVERYTHING? Do we want to have an impressive entry to just lure people into the house? Maybe an impressive entry can intrigue a decorator who can guide us through the improvements we need?



I guess my philosophy is clean it so it is approachable, then have a nice PARTY and ask the opinions of our friends on how we ought to rearrange... then we choose the suggestions that seem really groovy—do THOSE and then clean it up before inviting the important people over. Because if we take ALL the suggestions, it is no longer our house. And if it is too sterile, then it is boring.



But how we want to clean it is ultimately a decision of personality and goal. I am not a clean person—I know that. I ask for help. Some people are VERY clean.... Probably there are some non-writing types so clean they are too boring to produce anything interesting (my bias against cleanliness is probably showing).





So how do you like to go about your cleaning? Are you tempted to pretend it is clean before it it done? Are you too hard on yourself?





And a little game, courtesy of Rosie C. who tagged everyone interested, but of course, suffering from FOMS, I am pretty much always interested....



1. Your name/Blog's name

2. Are you right-handed or left-handed?

3. What are your favorite letters to write?

4. What are your least favorite letters to write?

5. Write: "The quick, brown fox jumps over the lazy dog."

6. In CAPS, write: "BABOON, SPLENDOR, ONOMATOPOEIA, FLIP-FLOPS, HUZZAH!"

7. Your favorite song lyrics are?

8. Make sure you tag 7 people to join in on the fun.

9. Tickle your fancy and add a special quip for us to enjoy.



1.  Hart Johnson/Confessions of a Watery Tart

2.  Right handed. HOPELESSLY right handed.

3.  A, D, T and lower case b, f, q, x, y and z.

4.  C, I, U. Nothing lower case bugs me.

5 and 6 -->

7.You Learn (Alanis Morrisette)

8.Consider yourself tagged.

9.  It's THURSDAY and you know what THURSDAY means!!!



(these are the bedside books you would have if you are ever a house guest at the Tart's house.)





Okay my friends—hope you have a fabulous day!

Public Service

So I was just thinking it was a really good day to show a little appreciation for our public servants—but of course you know we can't do this without a Tart Twist... it's Thursday, after all...  Never let it be said the Tart doesn't appreciate the people who dedicate their time, energies, and sometimes their lives to protecting us.





So THANK YOU, brave firefighters!

Definitely willing to let this man turn my crank... let loose that pressure... *nods*

I'm willing to bet he makes getting clean almost as fun as getting dirty.

 And LOOK!  He will even BABYSIT!!!

























And we should never forget our police officers!

Notice his HANDCUFFS must be already OCCUPIED, though these are the Policia de Espana, so I should really say OCUPADO... right before I say CALIENTE, I mean...

 Oh, baby... Ready, aim....





























And finally, a special thanks to the military, on-the-ground-personnel.

And for the ladies who like a man in uniform... (or rather, half OUT of a uniform...)

And then we have a VARIETY PACK!!! (and there was much rejoicing.)



















So never let it be said that the Tart doesn't TRULY appreciate the people watching our backs... and fronts... they can really watch whatever they want, as long as I get to watch back...

Compaesthetics

Am I trying too hard now, on the making up words thing? I know it's not as fun to say as Tartiversary, or as clever as Procrastinakeding... but it gets across what I want to talk about...



I was supposed to have a guest blogger today, but I didn't hear from her. Now I have a hard enough time keeping track of things in my life that I can hardly blame her if I fell off the radar screen... or if communication fell apart—her email address didn't work for me—she may not even know she was expected! But a couple WEEKS ago I was supposed to have a guest, and when I sent the reminder “Hello? Where's your blog, please?” I got back a very sweet, apologetic note that she wasn't comfortable with the content on my blog.

FAIR ENOUGH. As much as I may encourage all o' y'all to get naked and you go along or ignore me as you will, YOU ALL are here because you picked it. I am at the VERY LEAST not out of your comfort zone (very far—or you are twisted and LIKE me pushing you out of your comfort zone). The guest blogging circuit, on the other hand, gets their suggested assignments for where to visit and may know NOTHING about it until... you know... it's time to go.

Party Metaphor



Since we are such a fun group, lets say all these blogs are parties, and people roam from party to party, doing their sampling of this fare and that. Then somebody comes along and helpfully says, “Hey! I'm part of the Music Association and I can get some bands to cycle through!”



And everybody at my blog starts singing “Louie, Louie” and shouting “Toga! Toga! Toga!” and who should show up, but a gospel singer? Now some of you limboing, toga wearing party nuts really LIKE gospel, and are going to be a perfectly good audience (all o' ya would be NICE)—but Miss Gospel singer looks out at the crowd smearing honey on each other and taking belly shots and she is REALLY uncomfortable, because... you know... she's over-dressed. And it's MY PLACE so nobody WORE their church clothes. Even people that LIKE all that, are hard to see! You are the nicest, most receptive people in the world, but all she is seeing is the line-up of fine man-butts I have arranged.





Now if it were ME, I figure I'd just cater who was there—alter my content accordingly. But I also don't write anything really incompatible with... well... anything... My reputation as an author is hardly going to be slandered because I show up somewhere. The Erotica authors might poke fun because the most sexually graphic part of my cozy is an occasional goosing, but me showing up THERE can hardly be any worse that what I get up to HERE. In reality, exposing myself to varied audiences is the best way to... you know... grow my audience. Or so I see it.

There are writers, however, who have more stake in keeping up some respectability, and I respect that. Compatible Aesthetics are the right of any of us, and it is not up to me to call it.



THAT SAID, none of us should be afraid to say that. Something isn't going to work out? Say so. Communicate. Let people know. Because even the naked among us need to keep up the professionalism so that Tarts don't have to fly by the seat of their pantslessness any more than necessary... if you know what I mean...

Cozy Contract!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Most of you know I have been going through this PROCESS, and PROCESSES take TIME... But yesterday afternoon I got the call! I can actually talk about this now, can't I? It's so strange, the story has been a half share teasing thing I've done with all of you because I didn't want to jinx it... but here we have it...

Voice Identification



Here we go on record as the freaky exception to the rule... I am apparently one of the exceptions to the rule that 'most people get in through the agent/query' path, and am joining the 1% (I made that number up) who are spotted by their BLOG... But I was SPOTTED by a fellow author, who said, “You have a perfect voice for cozy mystery.” So ELIZABETH, THANK YOU for suggesting I give it a shot! (and letting me read YOUR audition that got you YOUR gig with Penguin, so I had some clue of pace and such)

The audition opportunity came up in February... I have been working through Ellen Pepus of Signature Literary Agency, who agreed to work with me and facilitate the audition...



I wrote my 50 pages (okay, it was 54) and then sent it out to a few of my fellow Burrowers for feedback [huge THANK YOU, Leanne, Chary, Natasha, Tara and Jen! Plus Stefanie--another friend]... polished... asked Elizabeth for a peek as she WRITES the stuff [THANK YOU!]... got HER feedback... then sent to Ellen... got HER feedback... (making revisions at each step).



Somewhere in there I quizzed the people I could find who lived in Virginia (Marie, Dave, Tracy--THANK YOU!)

 Then Ellen sent it on to the editor at Berkeley Prime Crime, whose assessment (after about 4 weeks) was that she liked my voice, but could I make changes along the line of X, Y and Z? (boiled down to slowing introduction of characters and spreading out the necessary back story so it flowed more naturally—or so I took it)



So then we went through the process AGAIN... and sent it back to her... four weeks ago Tuesday... This Monday I emailed Ellen to see if she knew when we might hear (because I was being clever and figuring if she HAD HEARD she would have emailed... *cough*). So yesterday at work, I got the call... “This is Ellen, how are you?” “Good.” “I think you're about to be better.” “SQUEEEEEEEEE!” Actually I think I managed to hold off the LITERAL SQUEEEEEEEEE until I hung up, but I DID make very excited noises and words, and I'm sure I sounded very smart... Right.



It is a THREE BOOK CONTRACT (all around the same characters and this gardening theme—first one due December 31). We talked about deadlines, how the contract worked, how the payments worked (erm... I'm not getting rich, but I HAVE MY FREAKING FOOT IN THE DOOR!) I figure the 'published' credentials are worth an awful lot, as is having a relationship with a real live agent—proving I'm a responsive professional, easy to work with (Oh, I hear you all, rolling your eyes... I know I am DRAWN like a diva, but I swear I can do this piece—I have practice from my day job). It seems to me SOME of the other stuff I write fits among her clients and goals pretty well, and other stuff less so, but I should at LEAST be able to get honest feedback and a recommendation if something ISN'T something she wants to handle.



All in all, I am just so excited I can hardly stand it!







VOTING HERE!  NAME A TART!!!!!



And so... I need a pen name... and my FIRST choice was to use my kid's names.... Nat Samms was the original suggestion I had, but Joris assures me it is unattractive to LOOK at, no matter the font, never mind it is adapted from what I named my children... now I am leaning toward my grandmothers... (I had the best grandmothers anybody ever had)



So the names I have to work with are:



Alyse Olsen (pronounced Alice)

Sylvia Carlson (WENT BY Syd—so renditions on Sydney are also allowed)



I am LEANING toward Alyse Carlson—to include both grandmas (Alyse was the one I was closest too, and I like the idea of GOING BY Ally)



But I am happy to take suggestions/opinions on various names including these four, OR variations of Natalie and Samuel (Talia Samuels is pretty good, though decidedly dressed)



I don't need the one you LIKE best, I need what you think FITS Cozy mystery that is sassy and tartish...







An Obstacle



This does mean I need to figure out the BuNoWriMo thing... I'm SURE I can still win, but do I want to do my 50K FIRST then switch projects? Do one by computer and the other by hand (leaning toward this)? Reconfigure my daily goals so I can do... say the WriMo on weekdays and the cozy on weekends? Become a REBEL and meet the 50K but on two separate works? (while this sounds really appealing, I am thinking I want to be more careful with the cozy—have a cleaner first draft, than to write WriMo pace).



I worked out a Cozy timeline—with my fellow Burrowers helping me, I REALLY hope to have my first draft done mid-August, as a few of my (read: all but one) promised readers have school-related commitments... if I could do 3 chapters a week (which I think I can) that means 6 weeks tops to finish it... at THAT rate, I could start July 1... BUT, I'd like to also have a week to clean up the obvious typos before I send it... so maybe I try to do ONE chapter a week in June, then I only need 5 weeks, then I have a week to polish!



Okay, so I am giving away that I am a harem scarem planner and make things up as I go along... still, it could work, right? I think that is the plan I will go with... One chapter a week means TWO NIGHTS of my bathtub time are COZY... the rest, I can work on the other... we'll see how that goes... whether I can really switch works so easily, but I used to do it all the time, back in my fan fiction lifetime.







Other Weirdness



In my REAL LIFE, it seems like there is a lot of turbulence... people going through crummy crap... I hate my friends to go through crummy crap... and it is HARD to have something GOOD HAPPEN and feel sort of guilty about it. The people I've told have been GREAT, but... you know what I mean, yeah? It's like survivor's guilt or something... I've got big freaking fabulous news but I don't want to seem like an unsympathetic schmo...

Mostly though, I am a giddy fool... I am good at compartmentalizing, and can be honestly sad for someone else in dire straights, then switch gears. Oh, I know... sounds like split personality, but I WAS born on the cusp of Gemini...



Speaking of which... 13 days until my BIRTHDAY and 2 days until the Tartiversary! Y'all should probably just get naked now...

Missing Motivation

I thought last week that I was good to go. I was wrong. I've been feeling motivated in other domains this week. There again, though, I think I'm wrong. Where has my motivation gone and what do I need to do to bring it back?

Motivational Imposter



First I think I'll take on this thing that I was THINKING was motivation, but I have not been able to tap... I have FELT like I had a ton of writing motivation and just wasn't able to apply it to the eating right thing (my exercise is going fine—usually does when the weather is nice, as I love to get out there and GO). But the eating (and drinking) within limits has been nearly impossible, so I THOUGHT maybe I had just rechanneled my motivation... you following?

You know about BuNoWriMo, ne? Well I am WAY motivated on that front... like SERIOUSLY. Adrenaline junkie mode is going strong. But her is the real deal... The PROBLEM, is that is more like filling up the motivation tank, but then keeping the switch flipped OFF—I am not firing up that engine yet. I am carb loading for a 30 day marathon in which I need to use all that stuff I have built, so right NOW it is sitting there unfired.



I've actually written VERY little this week-- a drabble for the Burrow's June Project (The Burrow A to Z—inspired by ARLeeBird at Tossing It Out and his Blogging A to Z). And I wrote a 'setting' and some character sketch stuff—but that is all more ORGANIZING. I haven't WRITTEN, really at all. I also have had a HECK of a time doing my daytime job—even on that front my motivation has been lacking... Nope... whatever this is is only POSING as motivation.





Plan to Tap It



But if I'm storing up, I have every reason to believe that come June 1, I ought to be able to FLY with it in all directions, yeah? And there is not really a reason that I can't write like the maniac I am, work at my day job like I'm supposed to, and FOLLOW THE BLASTED PLAN! In fact for this perfect temperatured 3-day weekend, I think I will up the exercise, but not worry as much on the eating (within reason), knowing on Tuesday I am going to SOAR.



Does that sound like excuses? Sort of it is, so probably it OUGHT to, but after all this time, I am pretty tuned in to the mind games I play with myself, so it oughta work...

In the Mean Time



I have a little gardening to do, a fair amount of homemaking (my husband is in a CNA class that is all day Saturday and Sunday through late June—leaving me with such distasteful tasks as making dinner—YUCK!), some chauffeuring childings, and some drinking rum next to my neighbor's pool if I manage to see her out there—handy to have a neighbor with a pool who works outside a lot and is fun to talk to (and likes a cocktail). Really the bonus of the weekend is just the extra day off, so I can rest up after the weekend chores, because the CHORES have to get done whether there is time to rest after them or not.







BuNoWriMo Update



We are at 70 and counting... Discussions are good. Camaraderie is good. We are STILL looking for a word count tracker that is compatible with facebook... Maria is on it though, and she is definitely more technically competent than I am. Though if any of you already HAS ONE, we would be EVER-SO-GRATEFUL if you'd share!



And you are of course STILL invited to join us! The top BuNoWriMo is 'about' and the one on this section is the Facebook link.



Okay, peeps, get out there and enjoy some sunshine! Hopefully it is warm enough that there is a lot of nudity where you are!

My Favorite Things

So my Burrow peeps and I were having a relatively typical conversation, and it went something like this:

“I could sure use a cold beer.”





“I wish we were having a critique session over a pitcher of good microbrew” (this was me)





“Oh, I like that. Burrow, beer and books!”





“You are forgetting. Boys. We need to Cabana boys to bring the pitchers, apply the sun screen, and periodically massage our feet.”



It was unanimous. Our favorite things: Burrow, beer, books and boys. So I am dedicating a blog to the matter.

Burrow



In all its diverse fabulousness, representing four continents and seven countries, we REMAIN, four score blondes and brunettes between the ages of sixteen and nineteen and a half. But we are BRILLIANT (at least collectively, though I confess to mooching where my own content is lacking... See, I got a REALLY good processor and very little memory storage, so I can DO stuff, but there are times I don't really KNOW stuff. (thus, it is in my best interest to have really smart friends).



But it isn't just a SMART bunch, but a bunch that has complimentary skills in empathy, practical knowledge, life stage info... pretty much across the board, whatever I need, somebody there can offer it up. If I need good chocolate, there are three Europeans. If I need a knitted stuffed animal, there is Leanne (though she is sensitive about sock monkeys *shhhhh*) If I need to figure out how to tell my principal he's a moron in words that won't offend him, there is Chary. Whatever will sustain me...



If I was to be stranded on a desert island, THIS is the company I want (provided I can add a few male distractors, too... but for company, I mean).

Beer



Y'all know I'm a beer snob, yes? It is possibly the only area of my life in which I'm a snob... other than my Pacific Northwest Anti-snobbery thing where I'm snobby about snobs... and possibly really bad literature *cough*Twilight*cough*



But I DO love me a really GREAT beer. There are a couple rules involved... First: beer should be made ONLY with barley, yeast, hops and water. I'm willing to allow a little experimentation for FLAVOR (I've had a few excellent ginger ales, for instance, and Raspberry stout is so good even my cats liked it, back when I lived in Portland and March was Raspberry Stout month). I am NOT willing to compromise for something like PRESERVATIVES. If you need to put preservatives in it, you aren't drinking it fast enough, or you're shipping too far. And you know what the BRITISH do when they have to ship far? INCREASE THE ALCOHOL—yes, alcohol works just FINE as a preservative and solves the problem without messing up the flavor—why do you think India Pale Ales are so strong? They needed to have a high enough alcohol content to sail around the cape of Africa without it going bad! Problem solved! So if there is a chemical name to be seen? DON'T DRINK IT!



My personal favorites: Hammerhead (McMenamins), XX Stout (Pyramid—brewed with Starbucks coffee), Ballard Bitter (Pyramid), Wassail (Full Sail's winter ale), Blue Heron (Bridgeport—Bridgeport has a stout I love, too and I ALSO want to call THAT XX... shoot—hate that I live so far away that I can't keep these straight!), Mad Hatter (New Holland), Sacred Cow (Arbor Brewing), Oatmeal Stout (Arcadia)



So if I can get a regular supply o' THESE on my deserted island, I will be a HAPPY camper.

Books



So in this interim, while I wait to hear about the cozy, as I don't know what I will write next until I know that... I've been spending a little extra time READING. I've read two much discussed books, and am THRILLED both lived up to their hype (mostly).



The Hunger Games: the dystopian future world where each 'territory' is supposed to send a pair of children (randomly chosen... sort of) to play a brutal and deadly form of 'Survivor' for the viewing pleasure of the capital *shivers*) The idea is so gruesome, but the reading was fabulous. The characters were mostly likable but also flawed; you were rooting for them, particularly the narrator, Katniss. DEFINITELY worth reading.



The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo: This one I felt was slightly under-edited at the tails—a little heavy on the tell don't show. But as the author was DEAD by the time his books were released, I forgive this—I wouldn't have wanted another editor to change Stieg Larsson's story, and that would have been the only other alternative. It was DEFINITELY worth releasing and reading, as the tale woven was FABULOUS!



I will read the next on BOTH of these (both are parts of trilogies)



My OWN book the next... TITLED, this morning on my power walk. I'm calling it 'Kahlotus Disposal Site', which is based on location and an in-joke by the kids living there. See, I wanted rural (middle of nowhere rural) and when I used to drive from Portland to Moscow, I would pass through the Tri-Cities in Washington, and then there was a cut-off toward the highway I WANTED (the main Washington one running between Seattle and Pullman)--I spotted it by the sign that said Kahlotus Disposal Site. Kahlotus is actually a small town (population 90, or some such thing), not just a dump, but the sign seemed an appropriate metaphor for what I want this book to be about, so there we have it.



And FINALLY, back to my island... ALL of us are readers. I figure we would ALL bring books, and other than having 13 sets of the Harry Potter series (make that 18—Leanne will probably bring it in multiple languages), the overlap probably wouldn't be that great, so we'd be able to read read read. But besides that—we'd each be WRITING new books all the time, so the new material supply would keep growing!

Boys



They are so useful, aren't they? They can refill the pitchers, apply sunscreen, read to us when we want to close our eyes, massage our feet... Just darned handy to have along...



Yeah... if I had those four things I could be VERY happy for a VERY long time...





THIS JUST IN!  Inkygirl with 400+ followers has linked yesterdays post and it is getting retweeted like crazy--I suspect I will break all records today on hits, but the GREAT news is BuNoWriMo folks!!!!

Dieting in Hell

[For those of you new, Saturday is typically my fitness day--the other days are more about writing or silliness, but Saturday I am trying to document weight loss/fitness progress--started January 2]



You know what I've discovered? IT (dieting in hell) ISN'T POSSIBLE!



Man, I had a hell of a week.



Saturday I intentionally splurged... old friend... all that. (this you know).

I spent Sunday in the airport because my plane that was supposed to leave at 9:50 was BROKEN and the plane at 12:40 was FULL so I didn't get out until 4:20. I sat in an airport bar all day because frankly, airport CHILDREN do not suit me. I sat at a table with my laptop and first a diet coke, then a Bloody Mary... finally a SNACK (onion rings... bad choice, but I was badly pouting). Then I went to see if I could get on that 12:40... waiting about an hour for the final word and went BACK to the bar... Tavern ale... and another... chef salad, and yet ANOTHER ale. Can you SEE the calories add up? (in my defense, it is the best airport ale I've found aside from Red Hook ESB, but that, I only see west of the Rockies). The computer battery was dead by this point (the return after trying to get on the plane), so that was what I had (along with reading a story by a friend, which I enjoyed, but infringed not at ALL on my pout-infested drinking... I mean seriously--It was MOTHER'S day and I was STUCK in a bloody airport!)



So then, after long pouting, I get on my plane and find myself in... first class? Eeek gads! I'm not sure I'd ever ridden in first class before (I know I've never paid for it). First class has snacks and cocktails... which are free, and this cheapskate can HARDLY say no to FREE.



So that was two days shot.



The next few were technically okay... except the mind set... I wonder how much my brain depends on weekend rejuvenation and sleep to convince me to do the right thing... I think it must be substantial. Things that have not been tempting for MONTHS suddenly WERE... potato chips and cheeze its from the cupboard, suddenly hugely irresistable. Lunch plans left me starving...

Then Wednesday night I FELT it... Illness falling.



[Not me.  I very rarely resort to drugs, no matter how lousy I feel, but she looks like I felt.]---->



I woke up Thursday morning unable to breath. My throat hurt INSANELY, my nose was leaking CRAP down my throat, and the bite guard I sleep with conspired against my cold—disallowing the THROAT THING that would have kept me BREATHING..---ack, how miserable! So I didn't sleep well.



I worked Thursday, in spite of misery, and the difficulties of keeping a brain running when I feel like crap are monumental... pouting inspires bad eating URGH!



I guess the moral of the story is sometimes it just seems TOO HARD and the best we can do is dust ourselves off and move forward from there. I guess FORTUNATELY, feeling like crap, though it makes me want BAD stuff, is a bit of an appetite dampener, so volume is down, balancing things a little

<--- [also not me, but of the before/after pics I found, this is the closest to the starting and achievable figures, though her arms are more petite than mine would ever be.]



My weigh in this morning was the same as three weeks ago, which FORTUNATELY was the low point (the two weeks in between being UP a little from that... so I am still sitting at a 40 pound loss... and it is time to move forward. Time to stop pointing, and put my ducks in a row. I'd LIKE to lose another 10 by my birthday (June 23—about 5 weeks). And I THINK, after having the scale barely budge for six weeks, that I am in a good position to make that happen. That puts me at my high school graduation weight (still 20 pounds too heavy, but hey) for swimsuit season... and YES swimsuit season matters because my neighbor has a pool, so I spend a fair amount of TIME in one, never mind that nobody but she and her partner, occasionally his kids, and my family, see me. I still hate feeling I am getting tan lines from belly fat rolls (something that kept me in a long top the last two summers—but I'm a dedicated nudist—y'all know that... I want this pesky possibility GONE!)



I measured today—should have been last Saturday, but didn't take the tape measure... hips and butt are both down another inch! *and there was much rejoicing*--that is seven inches off my wide derriere!



I'm glad about that... as with the scale not budging, a little motivation definitely helps.

Hooray Hooray the 8th of May!

Oh, I know... not until tomorrow. But if I don't tell you TODAY, you might waste precious time and not celebrate to the full capacity of the BEST holiday there is!



Anyone who's known me for any length of time KNOWS what this is, because as a dedicated nudist, this holiday and I go... hmmmm all these sayings that seem like they ought to go here are clothing related, and therefore TOTALLY inappropriate... even peas in a pod seem prudish. Hand in hand is okay, but awfully PG... It's like the spicy on a pepper, or the peanut butter on the chocolate... they are just better together!





My Initiation



At the risk of TMI... okay, so TMI is par for the course around here... I was first exposed (pun intended) to the holiday back when I still lived in tiny little Moscow, Idaho. Let me tell you a few things about Moscow, Idaho... it's small (still only 20,000) and the population is approximately 50% agricultural and 50% academic. You heard me... EVERYbody, is either affiliated with the university or farms. No builders. No plumbers. There is one electrician (my stepdad) but he's retired. Nobody works retail. It is entirely agricultural or academic... *cough * I hope you all know when I'm having you on by now, but my exaggeration is smallish.

If you drive in any given direction from Moscow, you hit another (smaller, except in the case of Pullman, Washington, which can likewise NOT claim metropolis status) town and a lot of hills, small mountains, trees... It's really pretty, but if you are a teenager there, there are only so many activities to occupy your time. Some people engage in the mindless drivel of academics, music, sports... but for the most part... There are only a very few activities 'normal' kids engaged in. (and I wholeheartedly PLEAD that you understand I shed my bounds of normalcy... but at the time...) Namely, sex, booze, and rock & roll. You heard me... I was a metal head who drank and screwed in the backs of cars. (In my defense, all the cool kids were doing it) *cough *

The University of Idaho (the hometown university) where I had a lot of friends, had an excellent theory of applying academic concepts to this sex, booze and rock & roll mentality. Never have I seen people apply more creativity and intelligencia to having a good time. I loved the University of Oregon, where I went for my degree, and as an adult, Oregon is HANDS DOWN my preferred state, but UO could not hold a CANDLE to the University of Idaho where getting a party on was concerned. This was the home of frozen hot wheels (thank you, Ned), Crisco Twister, and to my knowledge

(though the posers at Washington State University just across the border are trying to claim it)... Hooray Hooray, the 8th of May. [the University of Idaho and Washington State University lie just 6 miles apart—I know this, as in HIGH school, I periodically went to WSU parties, knowing at the University of Idaho I might see someone who would say, “Hey, she's still in high school”--yes, I was a smart deviant.]



It was among these fellows... (the Idaho ones) that I had my first exposure...

By now, my Intelligent Readers, I'm sure you've GUESSED the nature of Hooray Hooray the 8th of May... It's National Outdoor Intercourse Day! Only over the years, it has become INTERNational Outdoor Intercourse Day..

Do I thought I'd offer up some suggestions, in case you aren't quite as twisted as me (or still have snow on the ground) (or have big giant SNAKES IN CANS—hear that Cher-Bear, I will NOT be having GROUND intercourse in Arkansas! Stand up, sister! Probably wise advice in Florida, too, in case all that noise arouses the Gators!

Sex standing up requires at least one strong, well-balanced participant, so I generally recommend something to prop yourself against. Buildings are okay. Trees too. But both have a rather rough texture. Lawn chairs leave obnoxious stripes (grass leaves imprints AND stains!) Sand will be with you until retirement. So WHERE, pray tell can one have sex outside?



I think my Buddy SteelMagnolia might (or might not) recommend the hot air balloon. Swings can be interesting, though I haven't tried that in my wide-ass life stage... picnic tables, if outfitted with a table cloth are a pretty good option—especially if you've left food props handy. Woohoo! A little honey, a little butter... NOW we're talking! Boats are good—especially if you add a balancing challenge, like in a canoe! A car is not really outside and SOLIDLY cheating. (so is a camper or a tent, though an air mattress under the stars will suffice and is probably the most comfortable option).

The reality though, is you REALLY just need to go into the holiday prepared. TAKE A DAMN BLANKET! All those rough surfaces are no longer an obstacle. In case you are still sure... here are some guidelines...



And MINIONS? This is a holiday FOR YOU! Enjoy it!

XOXOXOX Y'ALL!

So I thought it had been a while since I'd been serious, but when I examine the letter X, there is only so much I've got to work with. That is topped off by me finally having to pay the piper for thinking I had a free day to NOT do a letter, when in fact I didn't, as tomorrow is a (very Xciting) guest blogger, so Friday is Z... So I am covering X and Y today and the only thing THAT reminds me of is:



XYZ PDQ: kid speak for examine your zipper pretty darned quick (aka: you're flashing), which as an aspiring nudist, I really never should have minded, but the truth was, when I was in elementary school I HATED sticking out, but I did. You see, I was tall—always one of the tallest—second tallest girl through most of it, and the other one was REALLY tall—she NEVER could have pleaded normal... see, I didn't want any of THAT to rub off. And we were poorish, at least until my dad died (Xplaining how the loss of an income increases sustainability has mostly to do with a lot of beer and some Xpensive toys—whatever the case, my mother made living on social security look EASY after the debt that was my father ceased to be—but I digress). So ANYWAY... being tall... and poor... meant I wore my pants for several months longer than they covered my ankles (possibly the origin of my battle with pants)... or wore hand-me-downs from my cousin Cammi... AND I was tall... (I already stood out). So standing out some MORE by flashing my daffy duck panties (because Looney Tunes put out a series through JC Penneys that I am sure I wore for several years—NEARLY to the point where I gave them up for flashing...) would have been EMBARRASSING—I could prove my Daffy Duck claim but my friend Shelley, who is in the picture with me, would surely be upset—she's much more proper than I am. And in fact I didn't really start flashing on purpose until college, when I decided it was my mission in life to make people calm the heck down over the matter—yes, I sleep naked—you would TOO if you cared about comfort. DEAL WITH IT. Your boyfriend who is lounging in the dorm hallway can deal with it TOO. And so can the 35 friends you invited to the party in your dorm room.



*cough * So I bet you're wondering if I have anything more substantial to talk about than nudity. I DO! My second favorite topic, and the picture is courtesy of my FABULOUS friend Marian—one of the earliest in this networking thing to cross the line from casual networkee to friend... and she KNOWS what I like!



So here we have it... X-Dressing that doesn't X the clothing line too badly, because MOSTLY they are just X-Accessorized... (It is also a brilliant example of Lingerie Training, if anyone was wondering how it worked.





Xenophile



And finally I will step into the ring as a die-hard Xenophile. I totally dig things that are REALLY FREAKING strange... Mostly I take dares to try something new, I certainly love to GO new places, no matter HOW strange.





Am I the only parent out there unable, EVERY time I see the letter Y to say:





Y, Y, Y, Y, Yawning Yellow Yak, and Young Yolanda Yorgeson is Yelling on his back! Though the international Xenophile KNOWS Yorgeson is spelled Jorgeson. Y is really used for Yvonne (my groovy new blogger friend and Ybon, an extraordinary Basque boy I enjoyed the company of briefly when I was 18 *swoons *. Man, he was cute! Why do I need the letter Y to remind me of such things? I suppose because my REAL obsession that year was a W name, who I completely neglected to mention because I really associate him with Greenday—there is a song... it makes sense. YES, that is obtuse... I shared only the most peripheral of connections.





Y Blog?



You know, I've been thinking about this... people seem to have different reasons for themselves, including promoting a book (which is a FABULOUS reason to GUEST blog, but a bit BORING to try to have a daily blog about, with the exceptions of the JOURNEY to getting published, and my friend Helena's JOURNEY to master the skills of her super-spy character (Becoming Layla)--mostly though, there is only so many times any reader will come read about the damn book. Some people blog because they see this as a substitute, since the book isn't out and all—again, I think it's a mistake. This is a tool that will NOT become obsolete just because the book is out. The REAL reason we blog—and your readers will see it if you do it, is to CONNECT. It's so we are no longer alone in the void. Some of us blog to inform, some to entertain, but all of us for whom it will be sustainable, blog to connect to people OUT THERE—other writers, readers, blog browserly types...





So since I am apparently unable to make sense with X or Y, maybe I will go with YOWZA!



This is the Johnny of my X-Rated dreams... I think you can see the appeal... carefree, self-indulging, but not in that manic way some people do...My favorite feature of course is the tan line—so tempting... you know they are ALMOST coming off... which is the best way for pants to be aside from ALREADY off.



And then my favorite newish pic is ready to be featured again—I'm just sure of it...

Propriety Plague

I would have been a really BAD Victorian because nothing bugs me quite as much as proper people, but if I lived in a society where EVERYBODY bought into that crap, I'd be in a lot of trouble. I suppose it is grounded in my issues with rules. Say it with me: RULES SCHMOOLS! But there is also a judgmentalism to it and judgmentalism bugs me even MORE than rules. And you know what ELSE bugs me more than rules? POMP. It drives me CRAZY when people act better than everybody else and one of the things those pompous, judgmental people do is act PROPER! Grrrrrrrr.



My mom used to drop the 'ladylike card' when I was cartwheeling in dresses or eating with my mouth open. I'm willing to bet to this day she doesn't see how the feminist “you need to make your own options, because there are no guarantees anyone will take care of you,” ran contrary. Did she want me to act like a lady or be an independent person? I didn't really see that the two were compatible.



No, if proper behavior didn't include baring my bottom before the relatives, I didn't want anything to do with it.



So in an effort to tempt the rest of you away from propriety, I am presenting the prisoners. You see, in the Tart Dungeon there is a Posse of Prisoners for my Pleasure.





Parade of Prisoners

Aragorn was one of the original prisoners and he's been very helpful keeping the other prisoners in line because he's... you know... a MANLY man.  He's been largely resistant on the lingerie training, and he is disinclines to dance like I like, but MAN can he use his sword!

Another early entrant is Captain Jack. He wins kudos for his ability to turn pretty much ANYTHING into a toy, if you know what I mean, and for having that 'look' in his eye that tells me he is one of very few people on the PLANET who thinks thoughts as naughty as mine.

Lucius runs my cabaret. He took to the Lingerie training like wildfire and actually has some skill as a choreographer, so when we have special guests to the dungeon, I lean on him a lot to organize the entertainment.



















And then there is the new cast... (my friend Stacy is responsible for their attire.)

And our new special feature:

First we spend a little time getting really dirty...

Then we get clean again!!!!!







See, isn't this more fun that being proper?