tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-142986902024-02-03T10:12:39.102-08:00Angie's WriteA would-be writer's musings on art and life.Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.comBlogger393125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-74766818454637694172011-04-23T10:08:00.000-07:002011-04-23T10:08:00.790-07:00Hello 30It took me awhile to get this post up (surprise, surprise), but I turned 30 three weeks ago. (!) Starting a new decade has made me quite introspective, but for my birthday, I just wanted to do something fun. So that's what I did. <br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoCH5fFjP-0Lcn0wYjfuFIKYXgg8qcK6c_vajedAWMTpi2xArRDOMXnHJu2elsk-ANsUpZkVLoN5akMDekau9ZvXMyVtu8YsRPcFC8k5D4-tKTyB2OrZ2DeUpmDLUffJRAWB-R3g/s1600/IMG_9323.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoCH5fFjP-0Lcn0wYjfuFIKYXgg8qcK6c_vajedAWMTpi2xArRDOMXnHJu2elsk-ANsUpZkVLoN5akMDekau9ZvXMyVtu8YsRPcFC8k5D4-tKTyB2OrZ2DeUpmDLUffJRAWB-R3g/s200/IMG_9323.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598547934585437810" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjGtK40IETu2QF2Zzk8LIg9J_F5wRl6kDf2nDc-22DCuwIVNfRvNWdRQ9TySTGvSQRB36BlMZgiUAMC2AwCt8y49q2aRo-5XWayevNvoR6XhhwFQ757AkhoiSxQ4YcGbdfyFW0Vw/s1600/IMG_9284.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjGtK40IETu2QF2Zzk8LIg9J_F5wRl6kDf2nDc-22DCuwIVNfRvNWdRQ9TySTGvSQRB36BlMZgiUAMC2AwCt8y49q2aRo-5XWayevNvoR6XhhwFQ757AkhoiSxQ4YcGbdfyFW0Vw/s200/IMG_9284.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598545253846134130" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8qdm0vBu3mXTmSwysKjy3PNYwneXlsroIJdzLg7XjKppBjk1f-7mjh8ilP_FsEg9d2GsLbL8K_zrAe4xEZ5XUGbzMcwZ0NwPOe1ekpmbE20Z9aAAKl-M3FlxnyuwlUjMfD6iQpw/s1600/IMG_9314.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8qdm0vBu3mXTmSwysKjy3PNYwneXlsroIJdzLg7XjKppBjk1f-7mjh8ilP_FsEg9d2GsLbL8K_zrAe4xEZ5XUGbzMcwZ0NwPOe1ekpmbE20Z9aAAKl-M3FlxnyuwlUjMfD6iQpw/s200/IMG_9314.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598547543351025122" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">(<span style="font-style: italic;">L: The whole group near Fort Mason; M: The bridge on a stunning day; R: Me making the trek across</span>)</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></div><br />Ten of my favorite people accompanied me on a bike ride across the Golden Gate Bridge. My mom, youngest sister, and three friends drove the nine hours down from Oregon, and two other friends drove over from Sacramento--all to celebrate with me. (They are awesome!)<br /><br />This was the perfect way to begin my 30s in style. We grabbed coffees at my favorite joint in the city, rented bikes near Fisherman's Wharf, and took off on an adventure through the city--riding past Fort Mason, along the water at Crissy Fields, and up some gnarly SF hills to reach the bridge itself. The view from up top was unbelievable, and despite the fact that the bridge is often socked in fog, we were blessed with glorious sunshine. <br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0hjUsHdx3IiZSkd_ZYZMW_DkcOJtXSRdRFAtJThcw2OpoGzVuaTXWtGMP4kd9QRZHa25UsnxJC8JW13z-6_J71X_wQgDUoBmNXFoGGUPEzvJssPYR-d2jbm-TQzIHG-VwLQbA_A/s1600/IMG_9342.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0hjUsHdx3IiZSkd_ZYZMW_DkcOJtXSRdRFAtJThcw2OpoGzVuaTXWtGMP4kd9QRZHa25UsnxJC8JW13z-6_J71X_wQgDUoBmNXFoGGUPEzvJssPYR-d2jbm-TQzIHG-VwLQbA_A/s200/IMG_9342.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598549196925710674" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxim5hd1c5TpAL-JuMP-9JQo3lcF7EE8aqssVGEFaEp7RQ5Av1UQjNpe210bZ3Ig1cI_7OtyKeN2yo_oiK9jvH2oBRSHEyC0U7yzsl1Vh9v0u50Vopc_cNi2GRKEQpVk_FqL2qWA/s1600/IMG_9361.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxim5hd1c5TpAL-JuMP-9JQo3lcF7EE8aqssVGEFaEp7RQ5Av1UQjNpe210bZ3Ig1cI_7OtyKeN2yo_oiK9jvH2oBRSHEyC0U7yzsl1Vh9v0u50Vopc_cNi2GRKEQpVk_FqL2qWA/s200/IMG_9361.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598550812315548626" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq7a4SlGU2h9KXnqgfC_21xXZJ6GUh_sPr64xBkI1ZnF1eg1x-9Si0wqBDLuNSCbbUTEV-kiPxB6JOsJxwxp9fja4rQSfEzZFCjf17U57JF9xikt4NJG7YmF9Uxv0Kr3QE6IyPKw/s1600/IMG_9353.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq7a4SlGU2h9KXnqgfC_21xXZJ6GUh_sPr64xBkI1ZnF1eg1x-9Si0wqBDLuNSCbbUTEV-kiPxB6JOsJxwxp9fja4rQSfEzZFCjf17U57JF9xikt4NJG7YmF9Uxv0Kr3QE6IyPKw/s200/IMG_9353.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598550388617825458" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">(<span style="font-style: italic;">L:</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:78%;"> The Marin Headlands; M: Looking back toward the bridge from Sausalito; R: The Sausalito waterfront</span></span><span style="font-size:78%;">)</span><br /></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNmhk-pQLC-0kWVXdGx9iUI415s1VHdTWeLzp113CNmqUP8U38FPzx-PbRJ6-tpNjrxjzTO0jB83fwa1Yli4aR4OTs9YLd46DeYXTYjrA0XtY_rIv_Y-6AVnngYMFVkW-G_irCsQ/s1600/IMG_9360.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNmhk-pQLC-0kWVXdGx9iUI415s1VHdTWeLzp113CNmqUP8U38FPzx-PbRJ6-tpNjrxjzTO0jB83fwa1Yli4aR4OTs9YLd46DeYXTYjrA0XtY_rIv_Y-6AVnngYMFVkW-G_irCsQ/s200/IMG_9360.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598551450882941810" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWoiRoXlJDIeW-6DnoA02aW5g3y5kQVGE9QqdrlVVRfM5rt8genZOdf_TuWgOnShSBiw1kZyMjraAqcPHigbwnN2JGmKK1G6LJmdRXUVZmLuPqJKEPor9H8hAyVUez-kfgZFdlQw/s1600/IMG_9378.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWoiRoXlJDIeW-6DnoA02aW5g3y5kQVGE9QqdrlVVRfM5rt8genZOdf_TuWgOnShSBiw1kZyMjraAqcPHigbwnN2JGmKK1G6LJmdRXUVZmLuPqJKEPor9H8hAyVUez-kfgZFdlQw/s200/IMG_9378.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598555866714973138" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIWgcG4qn8RMiLUqYHDRpl-JqDUUUA7cuE9loyy20sPRbEH6J47uJ5KSZ7lnfiRhqpu1kRB8wdt-O31aUB9xbjw60tv9aE9thOvFj-FnyQz20Io6AkEU7OA66xvw1osKgJMuhyYQ/s1600/IMG_9368.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIWgcG4qn8RMiLUqYHDRpl-JqDUUUA7cuE9loyy20sPRbEH6J47uJ5KSZ7lnfiRhqpu1kRB8wdt-O31aUB9xbjw60tv9aE9thOvFj-FnyQz20Io6AkEU7OA66xvw1osKgJMuhyYQ/s200/IMG_9368.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598553597519331042" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">(<span style="font-style: italic;">L: The view of SF from Sausalito; M: Me and Mr. Darcy, hehe; R: Drinking wine while waiting for our table at Albona)</span></span><br /></div><br />Once we reached the other side, it was (thankfully) all downhill until we reached the charming town of Sausalito, where we took a sun break--complete with wine juice boxes and Maynard's wine gums--while waiting for our ferry back to the city.<br /><br />After returning our bikes (and a quick costume change), we walked over to North Beach where we had the most amazing dinner at <a href="http://www.albonarestaurant.com/">Albona</a>, an <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Istria">Istrian</a> restaurant there. It was the perfect end to a perfect day.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX5IYiqhu4tAAkBmFMfB4_irMo0Tt4Xw4AkQR1GWuI8ky1NZ8n9miEGsfDAvm-snTW4QTxyQkBmJtoOJIu_JQxZG5n2N0zG0uRB7O6m2wqcujLijt3nTrvg9Teauj9ng4K22NmwQ/s1600/IMG_9377.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX5IYiqhu4tAAkBmFMfB4_irMo0Tt4Xw4AkQR1GWuI8ky1NZ8n9miEGsfDAvm-snTW4QTxyQkBmJtoOJIu_JQxZG5n2N0zG0uRB7O6m2wqcujLijt3nTrvg9Teauj9ng4K22NmwQ/s200/IMG_9377.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598555522027809442" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-size:85%;" >Cheers to a new Decade!</span><br /></div>Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-26577369460664773402011-04-14T16:04:00.000-07:002011-04-14T16:41:43.882-07:00To Wolf Hall We Go<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/7826803-wolf-hall" style="float: left; padding-right: 20px;"><img alt="Wolf Hall" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1275660412m/7826803.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/7826803-wolf-hall">Wolf Hall</a> by <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/58851.Hilary_Mantel">Hilary Mantel</a><br /><br />My rating: <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/138406158">5 of 5 stars</a><br /><br />Set in Tudor England during the reign of Henry VIII--and at the rise of Anne Boleyn within the court--Hilary Mantel's story is a captivating read, detailing not only Henry's infamous divorce and break from the Roman Catholic Church, but also the growing shift in public opinion toward the church and the religious fervor that inspired on both sides of the issue. Told in the engaging voice of Thomas Cromwell, a fascinating man, this novel views the infamous time period from a new angle, through the captivating lens of a man at the heart of the story. There is love, terror, political intrigue, and biting wit. At turns funny, thoughtful, and on-the-edge-of-your-seat suspenseful, this novel will have you looking at these characters in a new light, even if you're familiar with the history.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/review/list/763137-angie">View all my reviews</a>Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-65241549985072098532011-03-30T23:24:00.000-07:002011-03-30T23:49:00.912-07:00Taking StockThis post has been a long time in coming. (I'm sure we'll all be sad to see Harry's face leave the masthead, but it must be done.)<br /><br />In the past few months, so much has happened in my life--weddings, birthdays, a funeral, and travel travel travel--that every time I come here to write about it, there's too much to share. I don't know where to start.<br /><br />There was the amazing trip to Greece in September (Athens, Mykonos, Santorini, and Crete. Le sigh.). My grandma's sudden and unexpected passing. A best friend's 30th birthday spent in a treehouse hotel. A January luau-themed surprise party in celebration of my mom's 50th. My darling niece's 1st birthday. My father-in-law's re-marriage, as well as a best friend's wedding. When you put it all together, I spent over seven weeks away from home in the last eight months. (Don't get me started on the nine-hour drive home. Ugh.)<br /><br />And on top of all that, I fell off the blogwagon last summer when I suffered the worst migraine period of my life--having migraines three weeks out of every month from about May to September.<br /><br />I began this blog to reach out to other writers and to talk about my own writing journey, but with my current focus on finding an agent (and my reluctance to discuss that publicly on the interwebs) I'm finding it hard to think about anything else. (Suffice it to say, it has been both encouraging and discouraging all in one, and I've never checked my email more!)<br /><br />The reason all this has been on my mind? This is the last week of my twenties(!), and I feel I ought to take stock of my life to date. There are so many things I'm proud to have done in my twenties--finishing college (and more recently, paying it off), writing (and rewriting and rewriting) my novel, running a marathon, skydiving, training my cute puppy into a (mostly) well-behaved dog, traveling abroad alone, getting a tattoo--but there is so much more I want to do and accomplish in the next decade. I'm starting off my thirties with another adventure--friends and family are joining me on a bike ride across the Golden Gate Bridge, something I've wanted to do since we moved here seven years ago. I'm also working my butt off toward my biggest goal--making my novel the best it can be (even if that means more revision) and securing an agent. And this summer, husband and I will celebrate our 10th anniversary (yes, we married young) and commemorate it with a return to England, my favorite place to travel.<br /><br />So in sum, hello again. (*waves*) I will try to check in more frequently with what's certain to be an interesting year. Oh, and HUZZAH to 30!Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-13536210349972925732010-10-27T15:51:00.000-07:002010-10-27T16:23:36.971-07:00HARRY!22 days and counting...<br /><br /><div><object width="576" height="324"><param name="movie" value="http://d.yimg.com/nl/omg/site/player.swf"></param><param name="flashVars" value="vid=22623620&"></param><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed width="576" height="324" allowfullscreen="true" src="http://d.yimg.com/nl/omg/site/player.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="vid=22623620&"></embed></object></div><br /><br />I am such a dork, but this makes me almost tear up. Nine years ago I made Husband take me to the midnight showing of the very first movie, which just happened to fall on our three-month anniversary of marriage. At that time there were only four books, and I'd re-read them I don't know how many times. The years have flown by, and still I eagerly await each new Harry Potter release. These books and films have marked important milestones in my life over the years--getting engaged the summer I started reading the books; the release of book 5 while I lived in London; speculating over the details of the final book with two best friends, while secretly setting them up using their shared love for all things Harry (they later married, btw!). I will be <span style="font-style: italic;">so</span> sad to see it end, but what a ride it has been!Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-69874266176960608082010-09-07T09:27:00.000-07:002010-09-07T12:33:52.261-07:00Beautiful MaliceHaving met <a href="http://rebeccasjames.blogspot.com/">Rebecca James</a> through the wonderful world of writing blogs, I was more than a little excited to get my hands on a copy of her book. It didn't disappoint. James kept me turning the pages from the beginning. She had an interesting premise, peopled with unique characters who jumped off the page.<br /><br />Katherine Patterson's secret lies at the heart of this story. She buries her past and begins anew by changing her name and moving to a new city, but eventually her past catches up with her. Her baby sister, Rachel, was tragically and violently murdered, and Katherine bears the burden of guilt, believing it was her fault. When Alice--beautiful and popular--befriends Katherine, she starts to think life can be normal and lets her guard down. But Alice has a secret too.<br /><br />The story unfolds in terrifying ways, and although I guessed Alice's secret halfway through, it didn't deter me from reading faster to find out how it all ended. <br /><br />Beautiful Malice explores the dark side of friendship, and although I haven't experienced a relationship this toxic, I could definitely identify with the familiar feeling of unease that Alice creates throughout. I highly recommend this psychological thriller. You can pick up a copy of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0553808052?ie=UTF8&tag=angswri-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0553808052">Beautiful Malice</a> in hardback on Amazon or in paperback <a href="http://www.bookdepository.com/book/9780571259823/Beautiful-Malice">here</a>. Enjoy!Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-69809519587252398012010-08-18T16:44:00.000-07:002010-08-18T16:44:24.757-07:00Reading Bees<a href="http://www.carolinesmailes.co.uk/blog">Caroline Smailes</a>' <span style="font-style: italic;">Like Bees to Honey</span> was a haunting, thought-provoking look at one mother's struggle with the loss of her child. The book follows Nina Robinson, a woman born in Malta, who left to attend college in England, where she found love, but also loss. Nina falls pregnant while unmarried and in college, disgracing her traditional Maltese Catholic family, so her father shuns her. When she returns years later with her husband and young son, hoping for a reprieve, the family disowns her, unable to forgive her for shaming them.<br /><br />After years of estrangement from her family, Nina returns to the island to deal with the recent death of her mother and to finally release her dead son, Christopher. Feeling like she has lost everything--her son, her mother, her culture--she almost loses herself to the vivid spirit world surrounding her. In a hilarious and refreshing turn, Jesus arrives--in the form of a beer-swilling, toenail-painting island rockstar--and guides her back from the brink by helping her understand her guilt over Christopher's death so she can forgive herself. A colorful cast of characters from the spirit world support Jesus in this mission to save Nina, including my favorites: Tilly, an angry, foul-mouthed ghost with unresolved issues, and Elena, Nina's aunt who also left the island for love.<br /><br />As in previous novels, Smailes plays around with language and visual text to good effect. Rather than distracting, these elements add to the building narrative.<br /><br />Reading <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.bookdepository.com/book/9780007356362/Like-Bees-to-Honey">Like Bees to Honey</a></span> was like a magical trip to an exotic world where the curtain between this world and the next is lifted and what you discover is both familiar and remarkably new. In Smailes' Malta, spirits flock to the island to heal; it is a magical place teeming with centuries of tradition and culture, where the bridge between past, present, and the future beyond intertwine.Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-20993624338523238712010-08-01T13:13:00.000-07:002010-08-01T13:13:00.396-07:00Pile of BooksI received more fun mail!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfhugiRMWmZAp9nMImV6041PQM30Paxz9stSQriTpXq8GLXlwR54fEKdhY4dQvMQjMLXmxJ1YYxtpcdDHCMhP8fZvLgeSj4zWDKlJyoqmPc3L-NtMrvBKxSnI4H729qi8jI3hyuQ/s1600/IMG_6545.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfhugiRMWmZAp9nMImV6041PQM30Paxz9stSQriTpXq8GLXlwR54fEKdhY4dQvMQjMLXmxJ1YYxtpcdDHCMhP8fZvLgeSj4zWDKlJyoqmPc3L-NtMrvBKxSnI4H729qi8jI3hyuQ/s200/IMG_6545.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499486141809086002" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://rebeccasjames.blogspot.com/">Rebecca James</a> is a very lovely blogging friend, and her debut novel released in May in Australia. Unfortunately, I couldn't get my hands on a copy of the Australian version, so I have been waiting ever so patiently for Rebecca's book to release in the UK. (The US version released later and in hardback.) Lookey what I received:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5RdLpoXkCd6qh3lb8H4yZ2BZC9V5dP-m0zuW6wwkeJCqBBZ57T3hZeTPpiBKo0CSKJJ1ShCDaTrESUjbV1kz293243fAO2ddwpGsFvXBxyHC4mZ0G6v_D_CL1GoAVb5YLRMLig/s1600/IMG_6546.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5RdLpoXkCd6qh3lb8H4yZ2BZC9V5dP-m0zuW6wwkeJCqBBZ57T3hZeTPpiBKo0CSKJJ1ShCDaTrESUjbV1kz293243fAO2ddwpGsFvXBxyHC4mZ0G6v_D_CL1GoAVb5YLRMLig/s200/IMG_6546.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499487157466121586" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Huzzah! Isn't it pretty?<br /><br />While I delved into my final edits, I fell behind on my reading, and now I have a stack to dig into this week, starting with <a href="http://www.carolinesmailes.co.uk/blog">sweet Caroline's</a> <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.bookdepository.com/book/9780007356362/Like-Bees-to-Honey">Like Bees to Honey</a> and lovely Rebecca's <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.bookdepository.com/book/9780571255238/Beautiful-Malice">Beautiful Malice</a>. After that, I may have to dive back into the world of Sookie Stackhouse.<br /><br />This summer is shaping up to be great.<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Psst. Please don't mention that it's already August! </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >*Sticks fingers in ears* Lalala. </span><span style="font-size:85%;">Argh.)</span>Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-53369794743047151472010-07-29T17:13:00.000-07:002010-07-29T18:05:52.343-07:00Near-Death ExperienceThis afternoon I experienced <span style="font-weight: bold;">my worst nightmare</span>.<br /><br />Try not to laugh. My husband couldn't help himself though, even when he realized the seriousness of the situation.<br /><br />Have I previously mentioned my <span style="font-style: italic;">extreme</span> arachnophobia? Well. I'm generally a rather brave person. Blood, vomit, dirty diapers? No problem. Bring it! Skydiving, marathoning, parasailing? Yes, please. Even my other deep-seated, slightly irrational fear of serial killers has nothing on this. I have convinced myself that I would fight back using the mad skills I learned from self-defense classes, kickboxing, and Oprah specials (oh, yes). However, there is no fighting spiders. Something to do with all the legs. *shivers*<br /><br />My big fear? Having a spider crawl on or in front of me while driving.<br /><br />(Are you laughing yet? Pfft.)<br /><br />The problem is, when it comes to spiders, I become a completely irrational, screeching, jumping freak. It's like a nerve damage problem. No matter how much I try to control the flailing and screaming, put an eight-legged monster in front of me, and I lose control. I've always been afraid that if a spider got to me in a car, I might cause a freeway pileup.<br /><br />So there I was, minding my own business, chatting to my husband on my (hands-free!) cell, when a spider appeared on the INSIDE of my windshield. Cue MAJOR panic attack. <span style="font-style: italic;">Thankfully</span>, I was sitting at a stop light, so I didn't crash into anyone. There was a gas station just before the light, so I was praying the spider wouldn't move before I could get to it and jump out. No such luck. The fat little beasty started opening and closing it's mouth at me in an attempt to hiss (spiders DO hiss, don't argue!), and then started crawling up the windshield closer to my face. At this point I'm sure all my husband heard on the other end of the line was high pitched squealing and hyperventilation. Luckily, the light changed, so I drove with my head cocked to the side and as far back as possible. Just in case. Pulled into a no parking zone, jumped out and proceeded to scream and flail, before removing my sandal and dealing the hideous monster a death blow. (Followed, of course, by more squealing.) <br /><br />Husband's biggest concern during this interaction? That I would make a fool of myself. Ha! Not scared of that, clearly. Done and done! (Psh. Called my sister while still shaking afterward since her irrational fear of moths makes her much more sympathetic!)<br /><br />I survived this round. However, husband has a major spider hunting task in my car tonight, as I may not be so lucky next time.<br /><br />EURGH!Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-19913931018802120302010-07-28T12:52:00.000-07:002010-07-28T12:53:02.008-07:00OregonAfter I finished my final revision, I decided to take a trip home for a little rest and rejuvenation. Before I left, I started querying agents; I thought the break might help me avoid obsessive email checking as well. (Grins) A week home in beautiful central Oregon with my mom, sisters, and friends seemed like the perfect respite. (I think Drew liked it too!)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqa3JAbBmNasjUNvEvyb_aeFR0AR5mHbV__IfHF3GIQM3Pm2C7lz0MMmpYNqwCMoP7eGvhukTkZlar4I5h3oyK4XuSaWtmXZ5ThAkwzZFHmul7Y08uHDgpx6qSQpt9sFzh1K3ntA/s1600/IMG_6551.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqa3JAbBmNasjUNvEvyb_aeFR0AR5mHbV__IfHF3GIQM3Pm2C7lz0MMmpYNqwCMoP7eGvhukTkZlar4I5h3oyK4XuSaWtmXZ5ThAkwzZFHmul7Y08uHDgpx6qSQpt9sFzh1K3ntA/s200/IMG_6551.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499030888380088354" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_c1D3M7R0HyMINBO8mqd7dxeUm4V6sxKEv4nF-vdNbjCwKfG_Da_iTrrWRjB9OcB7Bw3JCbmTlatIFRfatM6Hzc0e5FbOVpGn5bf4QeOkac1iUIcQ3pOjSWteuX5Zi0aNLL5D2Q/s1600/IMG_6554.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_c1D3M7R0HyMINBO8mqd7dxeUm4V6sxKEv4nF-vdNbjCwKfG_Da_iTrrWRjB9OcB7Bw3JCbmTlatIFRfatM6Hzc0e5FbOVpGn5bf4QeOkac1iUIcQ3pOjSWteuX5Zi0aNLL5D2Q/s200/IMG_6554.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499031440672744834" border="0" /></a><br />I did relax a <span style="font-style: italic;">little</span>, but the trip turned out a bit different than predicted. I received some quick and positive responses from agents (EEK!), so I had to attend to that. (Great problem to have, but I spent more time working than expected.)<br /><br />On top of that, half my family got sick, all with different, non-infectious problems--from cysts bursting to an IBS flare-up to a kidney infection requiring hospitalization to a double-ear-infection in my niece--thwarting our winetasting plans and making my niece a bit tired and fussy for her first birthday party. (Although, that didn't stop her from enjoying her first taste of cake!)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr6CGC6JqERw7EX-TYc8_QJHCoZYXPnwZkDTMDcpIjt0J-YsZg1SJcao2fcBxIfbO7zdHazXubgWlzkp08uiDTcsyaWeM7sJieB0ruQ8MB1U6kLhnnWjyqArC_zTQ3PjCwD4Tr-A/s1600/IMG_6638.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr6CGC6JqERw7EX-TYc8_QJHCoZYXPnwZkDTMDcpIjt0J-YsZg1SJcao2fcBxIfbO7zdHazXubgWlzkp08uiDTcsyaWeM7sJieB0ruQ8MB1U6kLhnnWjyqArC_zTQ3PjCwD4Tr-A/s200/IMG_6638.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499037918753697586" border="0" /></a><br />Needless to say, things did not go according to plan. Thankfully, it wasn't all illness and work. I did get in a nice hike along the river, saw Paula Cole perform at a free concert in the annual summer Munch N' Music festival (LOVE her and she didn't fail to meet expectations!), and taught Drew to swim in my mom's pond. My youngest sister and I failed to float the river since every store in town ran out of floaties, but we had a blast trying. It felt wonderful to get outdoors and soak up some Vitamin D.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjBNDswuBmwHfCmejHV2ce5GdPODvLX9VtyB8rT5dcXadvjzPPGF3rZ5B_Y2LEAHgwFBvOM9SSVWFyATQquruuTpvbRwzo1ijuxuSk5YUb4QF0_rl_Curwx2LLqZTcLcWok0W1Tg/s1600/IMG_6574.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjBNDswuBmwHfCmejHV2ce5GdPODvLX9VtyB8rT5dcXadvjzPPGF3rZ5B_Y2LEAHgwFBvOM9SSVWFyATQquruuTpvbRwzo1ijuxuSk5YUb4QF0_rl_Curwx2LLqZTcLcWok0W1Tg/s200/IMG_6574.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499033480669917282" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhYSh4MLA8YAfyvMwy_jeF6oeDf9WSIqDU-xEUGCEoVkbr7E3vFsmvtTuVOrYFYcb8E3jGvUeu594-MYyCsNShXMO6Go3xMzvsfgr2jOxmtZARtehvmVgh2bPF0fSqWwUF9-Iz6A/s1600/IMG_6577.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhYSh4MLA8YAfyvMwy_jeF6oeDf9WSIqDU-xEUGCEoVkbr7E3vFsmvtTuVOrYFYcb8E3jGvUeu594-MYyCsNShXMO6Go3xMzvsfgr2jOxmtZARtehvmVgh2bPF0fSqWwUF9-Iz6A/s200/IMG_6577.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499033951445912322" border="0" /></a>Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-84015165601755239202010-07-13T11:06:00.000-07:002010-07-13T11:27:29.572-07:00Secret Agent<object width="500" height="405"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MXGAif4dKhs&hl=en_US&fs=1?color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MXGAif4dKhs&hl=en_US&fs=1?color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="500" height="405"></embed></object><br /><br />Well, I couldn't type that title and not share this song, could I? Good stuff.<br /><br />Today I have some exciting things happening. Over at <a href="http://misssnarksfirstvictim.blogspot.com/">Miss Snark's First Victim</a> the first 250(ish) words of my novel--along with 49 others--will be posted anonymously for critique by this month's secret agent, as well as other writers. If you haven't checked out the <a href="http://misssnarksfirstvictim.blogspot.com/2000/01/what-are-secret-agent-contests.html">Secret Agent contests</a> or Authoress's blog yet, it's well worth a look.Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-24704147107249833282010-07-09T12:41:00.000-07:002010-07-09T13:03:25.947-07:00HidingHello? <br /><br />Anyone out there? <br /><br />It appears the blog needs another good dust-off since I last wrote. <br /><br />I spent the past month in my editing hidey-hole, but I finished the *final* revision this week! I am beyond excited, but also mildly terrified, because that means I have to take the next step on this journey. <br /><br />I wrote my query letter, made my list of preliminary agents, and now it's go time.<br /><br />*Eek*<br /><br />I plan to start sketching and outlining book 2 soon, but could use a small break in between. Meanwhile, I have a pile of books to read, a synopsis to write (just in case), and a pool to visit for some vitamin D time, but I would like to avoid the obsessive email-check-itis.<br /><br />So. Any ideas for distraction while I wade into query territory?Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-41360812270207158842010-06-01T14:18:00.000-07:002010-06-01T14:27:32.252-07:00Note to self...<span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);">In the future, don't edit the <a href="http://angiemichaelis.blogspot.com/2008/06/flushed.html"> intimate scenes</a> at public coffeeshops! </span><br /><br />Yesterday I spent a few of my holiday hours working on the novel revisions. Somehow I didn't realize just what chapter I was on, until I was stuck there, peeking over my shoulder every five seconds to make sure know one could read my writing! So embarrassing. Although, it did increase my editing speed immensely! *giggles*<br /><br />Do you ever find yourself looking over your shoulder when you read or write romantic scenes?Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-89459479121508613112010-05-25T14:04:00.000-07:002010-05-25T14:04:01.387-07:00Royal MailYesterday a package arrived via Royal Mail:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimD5NkWL2vOcvfwPhsgGLAD0AVHVlVCqRW02CMRQi1bup7KJPEfMBOc3J-o30cuEg0yNqZJdO2An_zGDis0BRUZVUpLbyz7TTkLFsBMKaO6DmXZkQL5-PUQcN-SJtu8il8BmFRdQ/s1600/IMG_6458.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimD5NkWL2vOcvfwPhsgGLAD0AVHVlVCqRW02CMRQi1bup7KJPEfMBOc3J-o30cuEg0yNqZJdO2An_zGDis0BRUZVUpLbyz7TTkLFsBMKaO6DmXZkQL5-PUQcN-SJtu8il8BmFRdQ/s200/IMG_6458.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475100752970727906" border="0" /></a><br />Ooh, I love receiving mail approved by Her Majesty! I waited all week for this package, hoping it would arrive. Look what I found inside:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcvqAITjuCS5l2OQfWXS0fEDVkuxWVDrigM0vppJUENqgQdPNl4J3kGpUcd8c6wB0jqo11sSUNXa4ta8lP6fN4Oo8zMTLtzsQFvANOTy_TiH6s_zaER4Rhko0Pe-UqWvtXM5dwLQ/s1600/IMG_6459.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcvqAITjuCS5l2OQfWXS0fEDVkuxWVDrigM0vppJUENqgQdPNl4J3kGpUcd8c6wB0jqo11sSUNXa4ta8lP6fN4Oo8zMTLtzsQFvANOTy_TiH6s_zaER4Rhko0Pe-UqWvtXM5dwLQ/s320/IMG_6459.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475102872528423442" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4XkovmRlvTEy4e9ahuAwkaYbllM2vgiiGWYa-SOkjB32KZwmBdzKLyF0jBA9FfXmFgwaexnbhXmBmZtAY8gKzV4pbc7p5i8W2l1MO2wwYD0mu1owQXUjNXBsBSuS5uVZ_qklT7w/s1600/IMG_6460.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4XkovmRlvTEy4e9ahuAwkaYbllM2vgiiGWYa-SOkjB32KZwmBdzKLyF0jBA9FfXmFgwaexnbhXmBmZtAY8gKzV4pbc7p5i8W2l1MO2wwYD0mu1owQXUjNXBsBSuS5uVZ_qklT7w/s320/IMG_6460.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475103082149730866" border="0" /></a><br />Lovely Caroline's newest book, <a href="http://www.carolinesmailes.co.uk/like-bees-to-honey"><span style="font-style: italic;">Like Bees to Honey</span></a>. Isn't it beautiful? I <span style="font-style: italic;">adore</span> the cover. Last week I hosted a <a href="http://angiemichaelis.blogspot.com/2010/05/bees-knees.html">sneak preview</a>, but I've been waiting for the real deal. There's something about holding a book in your hands, isn't there? I'm excited to dig in, now I just have to get through some Sookie books fast, since I'm on book three!Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-40423092685474120922010-05-24T21:30:00.000-07:002010-05-24T23:55:08.540-07:00Surprise!I awoke this morning to a lovely surprise:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXAnpj-Xr_1YFqpExoAG7Yh6Wo45SEwhlF6NXZ661dDRa2zE7EgiIiw-dBKc4WI8TDN3t5FnlC6q-L8kN76dHryF-90jYc0v-ISiT3yjo26825OeL1LDOQrhMjgFWZgb87H0zgbA/s1600/IMG_6461.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXAnpj-Xr_1YFqpExoAG7Yh6Wo45SEwhlF6NXZ661dDRa2zE7EgiIiw-dBKc4WI8TDN3t5FnlC6q-L8kN76dHryF-90jYc0v-ISiT3yjo26825OeL1LDOQrhMjgFWZgb87H0zgbA/s200/IMG_6461.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475063782481571202" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:78%;">(With flowers he brought me yesterday!)</span><br /><br /></div>Husband left a present for me, and it's not even my birthday, Christmas, or our anniversary! A rare treat.<br /><br />This weekend I told him I felt petulant about my work. I'm tired of editing, tired of reading the same words <span>over</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span>and</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> over </span><span>and</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;">over</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span><span><span>and tired of endlessly streamlining my novel. I suppose anyone who has revisited a project <span style="font-style: italic;">50 million times</span> would want to stomp their feet and throw it out the window. The chapter that induced this irritation wasn't even a difficult edit, in fact, it's in pretty good shape, but </span></span><span><span>I'm ready to move on already.</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span><span><span>New characters and story ideas are clamoring for my attention, trying to lure me away with their newness. Of course, I'm ignoring them until I'm done going through this manuscript with a fine-tooth comb, but not without a little teeth-gnashing. *grins*<br /></span></span><br /><span><span>Being a native Pacific Northwesterner, I love me some fleeces, and I've wanted a lightweight North Face fleece for some time. Inside the bag, I found this: <br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmd5UaPLl5frKGGWMW1nJo6gzgCTngdpudg8zK54mX8eR9qRD3F90smQp-AUY-ASA1e-_xNq7wYzMUPFAc1hvL4Fz5c4BnKi_iEd2NHdIiUGRFrUTcFsIGEdtSU3tPEg9unAPPYA/s1600/IMG_6464.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmd5UaPLl5frKGGWMW1nJo6gzgCTngdpudg8zK54mX8eR9qRD3F90smQp-AUY-ASA1e-_xNq7wYzMUPFAc1hvL4Fz5c4BnKi_iEd2NHdIiUGRFrUTcFsIGEdtSU3tPEg9unAPPYA/s200/IMG_6464.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475070036796039362" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Rockin' a fierce myspace pose in my pretty blue. ;)<br /><br /></span></div><span><span>A gorgeous light blue (my <span style="font-style: italic;">favorite</span> color!) North Face fleece. </span></span><span><span>He said he's proud of what I've accomplished and wanted to cheer me up in face of the petulant chapters. (Ah! At this point, I teared up a bit. Ahem.) However, it made me giggle to think of my <span style="font-style: italic;">chapters</span> being petulant--stomping around the office, pouting like naughty children. The best part is that, with all the weird cold spring weather we've had this year, I could actually wear it today!<br /><br />Feeling less petulant as I approach the page in my pretty blue fleece this evening...<br /></span></span>Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-77140408551749232902010-05-20T01:59:00.000-07:002010-05-20T01:59:00.057-07:00The Bee's KneesToday I'm taking part in a special one-day blog tour. <a href="http://www.carolinesmailes.co.uk/like-bees-to-honey">Lovely Caroline's <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>19</o:Words> <o:characters>96</o:Characters> <o:lines>1</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>1</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>137</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>11.1287</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:donotshowrevisions/> <w:donotprintrevisions/> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:usemarginsfordrawinggridorigin/> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"Times New Roman"; panose-1:0 2 2 6 3 5 4 5 2 3; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-parent:""; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--StartFragment-->newest book</a> releases next week, and hopefully readers will be flocking to it <span style="font-style: italic;">like bees to honey</span>. *Grins*
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<br />Each chapter of her book is featured on one blog today. To begin the tour, start <a href="http://www.carolinesmailes.co.uk/blog">here</a> and follow the links. I'm hosting Chapter 22, and the tour continues on <a href="http://lizfenwick.blogspot.com/">Liz Fenwick's blog</a>.
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<br />UK readers can order a copy of <span style="font-weight: bold;">Like Bees to Honey</span> on <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Like-Bees-Honey-Caroline-Smailes/dp/0007356366/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1273227630&sr=1-1"><!--EndFragment-->Amazon UK</a>, while reader elsewhere can purchase it from <a href="http://www.bookdepository.com/book/9780007356362/Like-Bees-to-Honey">The Book Depository</a>, which offers free worldwide shipping.
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<br />Without further adieu, here is Chapter 22. Enjoy!
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<br />Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-28125491926581085102010-05-17T09:16:00.000-07:002010-05-17T09:16:00.577-07:00Busy BeeJust checking in to say hi since it's been awhile.<br /><br />*Waves hello*<br /><br />I'm keeping myself quite busy adding my final revisions, and my perfectionist tendencies mean added time editing every last line of every last chapter <span style="font-style: italic;">again</span>, but I'm so excited to be near the end! <span style="font-style: italic;">Light. End. Tunnel.</span> After I finish, I'm<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>going to bed early and sleeping in late. (Party, party!) No more of this going to bed in the <span style="font-style: italic;">early morning</span> business. (At least for a short time. Once a night owl...)<br /><br />Since I'm working (nearly) around the clock, I haven't had time for much else, but I'm a sap, so Husband took me to see <span style="font-style: italic;">Letters to Juliet</span> tonight after I squealed over every preview for the last few months. It lived up to my expectations and was the perfect romantic fix. I loved the leading ladies--Vanessa Redgrave was radiant and Amanda Seyfried was adorable. Unfortunately, it made us want to return to Italy. Now <span style="font-style: italic;">that's</span> an idea! In addition, I finally got around to reading the Sookie Stackhouse series, and even though I'm only sneaking in a few pages here and there, I'm on book two, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0441009239?ie=UTF8&tag=angswri-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0441009239">Living Dead in Dallas</a>, and loving it.<br /><br />Oh, and speaking of <a href="http://meandmybigmouth.typepad.com/scottpack/2010/05/creating-a-buzz.html"><span style="font-style: italic;">Bees</span></a>, come back on Thursday for a sneak peek at Caroline's fabulous new novel! I cannot wait to get my hands on it.Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-55463322022479176772010-04-19T10:03:00.001-07:002010-04-19T19:23:19.204-07:00Reading and Spamming<span class="userReview"> <span style="display: none;" id="freeTextContainerreview98187857" class="reviewText">For some reason, this book kept bringing to mind <em>Portnoy's Complaint</em>, another story about growing up on the fringe of American society. The books are very distinct--the narrators are from different ethnic backgrounds and come from disparate socioeconomic groups--and yet they still speak to universal truths. Love, acceptance, loss, coming of age. This book made me laugh and cry within the span of a page. Junior encounters so much heartbreak, but at the end he holds on to hope and humor. Although<a class="freeTextLink" href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/843804#" onclick="Element.show('freeTextreview98187857'); Element.hide('freeTextContainerreview98187857'); return false;">...more</a></span> <span id="freeTextreview98187857" style="" class="reviewText">If you haven't already picked up a copy of Sherman Alexie's <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0316013692?ie=UTF8&tag=angswri-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0316013692">The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian</a></span>, I can't recommend it enough. I finished reading last night, and immediately wanted to share it with friends who haven't read it.<br /><br />For some reason, this book kept bringing to mind <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0679756450?ie=UTF8&tag=angswri-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0679756450">Portnoy's Complaint</a></em>, one of my faves, and another story about growing up on the fringe of American society. The books are very distinct--the narrators are from different ethnic backgrounds and come from disparate socioeconomic groups--and yet they still speak to universal truths. Love, acceptance, loss, coming of age. This book made me laugh and cry within the span of a page. Junior encounters so much heartbreak, but at the end he holds on to hope and humor. Although categorized as YA, Alexie's book will entertain and charm young and old alike.<br /><br />This morning I sat down to start work on editing (and to post this blog), and was greeted with a spam message in my personal email account...sent from my general email account. Apparently I wanted to share viagra and cheap prescription meds from Canada with <span style="font-style: italic;">every single person I've ever had email contact with</span>. Aren't I lovely?<br /><br />I use a mac, so I haven't dealt with viruses and other garbage for the last few years, but this one worried me. My virus scan came up clean, which is good, but I don't know whether my account was hacked or whether a spammer stole my address and made it look like the emails were sent from me (though they were in my sent mail...). Still feeling a little on edge. Technology can be so cool, but it sucks that someone can access so much personal information like that.<br /></span></span>Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-33348155015670283102010-04-08T09:26:00.000-07:002010-04-08T09:26:00.392-07:00Where in the world is...Drew's chewie?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZgkX2Vm2rPgryu0zxk2JJvvrsd2bnLVZBP4ZuukIkYFZSUi1VtwWaAiXV_QUbD0-pSutDfvc6h8L83q9PL9mvf4F_E7_isGC5qmBxHDbCXxjyp8dUsq3OV8NtLkGy3u4rNhjF2A/s1600/Photo-0059_e1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZgkX2Vm2rPgryu0zxk2JJvvrsd2bnLVZBP4ZuukIkYFZSUi1VtwWaAiXV_QUbD0-pSutDfvc6h8L83q9PL9mvf4F_E7_isGC5qmBxHDbCXxjyp8dUsq3OV8NtLkGy3u4rNhjF2A/s400/Photo-0059_e1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457170044874484386" border="0" /></a>The bookshelf is his favorite hiding spot, much to my consternation. Perhaps because mama keeps her favorite things there too? I had to crack up when I was walking to the couch and saw this. He may need to learn better hiding skills if any other dogs come over, though.Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-36246380888000328372010-04-06T16:18:00.000-07:002010-04-06T16:21:05.369-07:00Writing and RunningWriting is a lot like running. Both require stamina and vision, and a wealth of patience. When people compare writing a novel to giving birth, it gives me pause. They're so <span style="font-style: italic;">different</span>. Perhaps if a couple is battling infertility and has to hold on to hope and patience in order to have a baby, then it is similar, but for most couples, it involves the initial <span style="font-style: italic;">action</span>, followed by nine months of waiting. Now before you start throwing things at the blog, I'm not saying it isn't <span style="font-style: italic;">difficult</span> to carry a baby. I have the utmost respect for mothers, however, you don't have to continually work at it. You take care of yourself, visit the doctor regularly, and make sure to follow a set of guidelines.<br /><br />In my opinion, writing a novel is more like running a marathon. You put in months--sometimes even years--of training, wake up early on weekend mornings to run for <span style="font-style: italic;">hours</span>, run in the evening after work or during lunch breaks in an effort to get in the miles. Your diet and sleep schedule revolve around your runs. (Trust me, you don't want to eat or drink the wrong thing before a long run!) You have little time for friends, other than running buddies. And when the big race day finally arrives, you fight not only a physical battle to reach the finish line, but more importantly, you fight a mental battle to convince yourself that you <span style="font-style: italic;">can</span> indeed keep running, even though it's already been 20 miles and your knee hurts and your feet are swelling and you're not entirely convinced that you can even lift your feet on your own accord to run 6.2 more! <span style="font-style: italic;">That </span>is how writing a novel feels to me at times. I spent two years researching and writing the first draft, and at the end felt such a rush of accomplishment, until I realized I had only completed the first 20 miles; I still had editing and revisions, and major plot holes, and <span style="font-style: italic;">could I really do this what the heck was I thinking?!</span><br /><br />I feel like I'm on mile 25.2 right now. Only one mile to go...but<span style="font-style: italic;"> what</span> a long mile it seems!Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-41625238997645770492010-03-31T19:14:00.000-07:002010-03-31T19:15:18.939-07:00Beer at 30...It's been busy around here the last two weeks. Last Wednesday was husband's 30th birthday (yay!), so I spent my time planning, cooking, and shopping. I was exhausted by Saturday, but the outcome was fantastic--we celebrated his birthday with a <span style="font-style: italic;">'Tarts & Vica</span><span style="font-style: italic;">rs' Dirty Thirty Party</span> over the weekend. Here's a sample of what I've been doing:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBGh7Evu3dcesALfrCkl2Y5A4mDdLJuvpBo7KC67qwSBJaI3zlFgmUTXebYBKkjmJYv7FScpSZdDWynqw7lMOXKQwikBnws0dgcPFtQFGvke-0aY4dzlLbKoWU0ZWcMu53kBqABA/s1600/IMG_6223.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBGh7Evu3dcesALfrCkl2Y5A4mDdLJuvpBo7KC67qwSBJaI3zlFgmUTXebYBKkjmJYv7FScpSZdDWynqw7lMOXKQwikBnws0dgcPFtQFGvke-0aY4dzlLbKoWU0ZWcMu53kBqABA/s200/IMG_6223.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454498974540273538" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpGHU8xj9lpZoYb8EHb_q-qhT1zxObV2Vyy6gi2IU0kJInUowfDNzPH2r50LxC9Iw-ONXbjyi4uZiicbzLGyBUuGsE-1qeLjjuPxduLczE2n3gUZoLmiZ5klBQ6j9oITYy07q8lw/s1600/IMG_6228.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpGHU8xj9lpZoYb8EHb_q-qhT1zxObV2Vyy6gi2IU0kJInUowfDNzPH2r50LxC9Iw-ONXbjyi4uZiicbzLGyBUuGsE-1qeLjjuPxduLczE2n3gUZoLmiZ5klBQ6j9oITYy07q8lw/s200/IMG_6228.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454504498451059362" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUHJ1gIXOT7kovYnvLEUWzBYpluDhRSGxOPK2uVNAVmYC4P3l2zNVpqjM-2fN_YtgQ5b1PVfFdI6m-Ip42Q0wuN74D1H96N6T74rctoYOmZY41Mr0kyD-1QL-L1bRd9MZC7xinGQ/s1600/Photo-0054.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUHJ1gIXOT7kovYnvLEUWzBYpluDhRSGxOPK2uVNAVmYC4P3l2zNVpqjM-2fN_YtgQ5b1PVfFdI6m-Ip42Q0wuN74D1H96N6T74rctoYOmZY41Mr0kyD-1QL-L1bRd9MZC7xinGQ/s200/Photo-0054.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454978725892061794" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /><br /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEOd-Rc7J0EXX6wWmoncIcK_aGXwgl6u2jpgkAeXEGUUW4gy9Mhx0SyCTXwtqudhaIkGCjOjjsu3yBggJj2DQ4REoyEbPvqhpO_cyCp5zjZOvrADyU6SsQP4blAQI7Uq941qUThA/s1600/IMG_6362.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEOd-Rc7J0EXX6wWmoncIcK_aGXwgl6u2jpgkAeXEGUUW4gy9Mhx0SyCTXwtqudhaIkGCjOjjsu3yBggJj2DQ4REoyEbPvqhpO_cyCp5zjZOvrADyU6SsQP4blAQI7Uq941qUThA/s200/IMG_6362.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454979172311142722" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz3g_IAWGo96DGzC6zYrQN3E28w8yI7D2VWUtqUkUb2yePeeidSMeGnI65VHiTrHOA3JzwTljjt2iDZtNxiPZ_zG0iS9iOYiPQlQvTpp5NH80simpXN6gvMWSpNr-eORKw6GJWoA/s1600/IMG_6355.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz3g_IAWGo96DGzC6zYrQN3E28w8yI7D2VWUtqUkUb2yePeeidSMeGnI65VHiTrHOA3JzwTljjt2iDZtNxiPZ_zG0iS9iOYiPQlQvTpp5NH80simpXN6gvMWSpNr-eORKw6GJWoA/s200/IMG_6355.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454979391733819234" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><p>(<span style="font-weight: bold;">Top: </span>Making Czech Goulash and bread dumplings.)</p></span> <span style="font-style: italic;">(<span style="font-weight: bold;">Bottom: </span>In honor of Husband's dual love for beer and jelly beans, I etched pub glasses and filled them with jelly beans for the </span></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">party favors.)</span></span><br /><br />Husband and I grew up in the Pacific Northwest--arguably the center of craft microbrewing in the United States. Portland, OR has more breweries per capita than any other city, and we grew up in a town with one of the best and most-well known microbreweries in the country: <a href="http://www.deschutesbrewery.com/">Deschutes Brewery</a>. In college husband and I studied abroad in London, where he was introduced to traditional English beer and grew to love it above all but his PacNW microbrews. We stayed with a host family, and the dad was an avid 'Real Ale' fan (introduced us to <a href="http://www.camra.org.uk/">CAMRA</a>, and etc.). The very first night there, he took Husband out to the garage to make his first beer. <span style="font-style: italic;">Adam's Ale.</span> Then he took him to the pub and gave him an education in cask-conditioned real ale. It's no wonder husband became such a beer lover. So for Christmas I got him his first beer-making kit. His second batch was finished just in time for the party this weekend.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9rjLDQhaYc6xlyH8JTl25J8hkW5X9f-IaWfnJSehS8MPb5u4X3d8SmJbcU6Q4-YVa15060QE4_yDs9ybPKYtyl2S_0yd9W8P4HOhCIS7yQi2PX7cjClzTjKtdgRIKSek6FFthw/s1600/IMG_6030.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9rjLDQhaYc6xlyH8JTl25J8hkW5X9f-IaWfnJSehS8MPb5u4X3d8SmJbcU6Q4-YVa15060QE4_yDs9ybPKYtyl2S_0yd9W8P4HOhCIS7yQi2PX7cjClzTjKtdgRIKSek6FFthw/s320/IMG_6030.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454505204556734978" border="0" /></a>A friend hosted the party at his house--his built-in bar and back yard were much more fun than our tiny condo. We ate and drank <span style="font-style: italic;">'around the world'</span> with food and beer samplings from various locales. The original menu included most of the major beer countries, but we had to whittle it down to avoid drowning in food and beer, so instead we sampled the following: England, the Czech Republic, Belgium, the Pacific NW, California, and India (random, but our friend makes a mean curry, and wanted some Maharaja).<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW8iGEnMnuVjOSnfhONoJ2HAlkzJxhLtgkzYH6JrWy8kxQnpfYtTCN5WNhQpOcdvrEqNkty8e_2f4ledE1w_Pk6eBRS2MfI8qBOJJYkPtATZAj5iQtZcMzIXEOt1PeWjwXQNaabQ/s1600/IMG_6300.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW8iGEnMnuVjOSnfhONoJ2HAlkzJxhLtgkzYH6JrWy8kxQnpfYtTCN5WNhQpOcdvrEqNkty8e_2f4ledE1w_Pk6eBRS2MfI8qBOJJYkPtATZAj5iQtZcMzIXEOt1PeWjwXQNaabQ/s320/IMG_6300.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454984942555943906" border="0" /></a>The end result was quite a blast. Any guesses on my costume? Here's a hint: I went with a bookish stereotype, while Husband--standing next to me--decided that as the birthday boy he should be the pope. :)Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-44517747494582845722010-03-18T13:49:00.000-07:002010-03-18T13:53:33.442-07:00The Future of Publishing?I saw this video on <a href="http://www.powells.com/blog">Powell's Book Blog</a> and had to share it:<br /><br /><object width="660" height="405"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Weq_sHxghcg&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Weq_sHxghcg&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="660" height="405"></embed></object>Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-45915554735987023122010-03-14T21:39:00.000-07:002010-03-14T22:35:11.026-07:00The Opening<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcll-nyqIS-OFarhbNjYbGvlemAjxZpIJ6SyYTPH4xCAiGyPXW1ukpAWJY4wNSfvYXcDV28eLHJMcD7LExjxRWnA7Hwem4y5jlOIiyB6UhefKruiD_y85yfL7ZEFjUZ0ixRboo0w/s1600-h/Writer+throwing+page.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 97px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcll-nyqIS-OFarhbNjYbGvlemAjxZpIJ6SyYTPH4xCAiGyPXW1ukpAWJY4wNSfvYXcDV28eLHJMcD7LExjxRWnA7Hwem4y5jlOIiyB6UhefKruiD_y85yfL7ZEFjUZ0ixRboo0w/s320/Writer+throwing+page.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448725872187758306" border="0" /></a>I spent most of the day rewriting my novel's opening scene for the 500 millionth time! Okay, so I might be exaggerating <span style="font-style: italic;">slightly</span>, but because I have rewritten it dozens of times over the last four years, it feels like the bazillionth time.<br /><br />My novel didn't come to me as a fully-formed story. It came to me in flashes of scenes, glimpses of characters, and small notions. It only grew into a developed story after a lot of planning and even more writing. I envy writers who approach the page with a full-fledged idea. Even in these final revisions, I've added new scenes and storylines (albeit minor ones that complement the whole). Last year when I worked on the rewrite, I cut out major scenes and changed whole storylines. I'm an organized planner, but my writing style seems to be more chaotic. As frustrating as that is for me, nothing feels more satisfactory than finally nailing that troublesome scene. <br /><br />I'm off to celebrate with some Red Velvet Cake frozen yogurt. Oh yes, it does exist!Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-81042952170484737132010-03-12T09:09:00.000-08:002010-03-12T09:09:00.613-08:00FINAL Final?I'm working through the last revisions on my novel. My husband and mom worry that I'm endlessly nitpicking and will never finish to my satisfaction. I <span style="font-style: italic;">do</span> have a tendency to obsess over details (ahem), thus my editorial past, but I'm trying to view my work objectively, with an editorial eye. I have a list of items that need to be addressed, and I know the novel won't be strong enough until I attend to them. I can't help but wonder though, how <span style="font-style: italic;">do</span> you know when you've finally reached The End?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2RPvKeMGl4J1C9nCz-rtgIc0bPxREoy2z2h_GKcd6KXT6iJAm61aySg_bLxCLpzJFSTZHiqWdrWqXr7ANWJdOR5sOoAH5HS9BwFCuAb_Dsrf-KQEE-xotXIKnL4G73MDRSM-RTw/s1600-h/the-end.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 136px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2RPvKeMGl4J1C9nCz-rtgIc0bPxREoy2z2h_GKcd6KXT6iJAm61aySg_bLxCLpzJFSTZHiqWdrWqXr7ANWJdOR5sOoAH5HS9BwFCuAb_Dsrf-KQEE-xotXIKnL4G73MDRSM-RTw/s200/the-end.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447465082537060274" border="0" /></a>Jamie Ford, author of my favorite book from 2009, <span style="font-style: italic;">Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet</span>, wrote an <a href="http://www.jamieford.com/bittersweet-blog/2010/2/16/fear-doubt-anxiety-and-other-by-products-of-success.html">interesting post</a> about this recently. By his description, I'm the type of writer who <span style="font-style: italic;">slooooows</span> the whole process to a near crawl. If I'm not careful, I might look up one day to discover my husband has grayed on me overnight! I'm simultaneously excited and terrified to reach the finish line. I want everything to be just right when I send the manuscript to agents. I only have one shot at this, after all. How do others get past this fear and cross the finish line?Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-90335767635205310442010-03-10T08:08:00.000-08:002010-03-10T08:08:00.830-08:00Shaping Up<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCg_scSlAfs443aCrBM6TGNJVXk2pFdbsymzK7Yc7C2HlaI3nAb5k9hvKsjmiH6i1w_ODZNkBG3xGwLj2QqKHW2fhVJSwG2D4rKnyQbvdhmjxVFst9DGBhXP9d6uQVlRpDbuwSDA/s1600-h/Cat+fitness.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCg_scSlAfs443aCrBM6TGNJVXk2pFdbsymzK7Yc7C2HlaI3nAb5k9hvKsjmiH6i1w_ODZNkBG3xGwLj2QqKHW2fhVJSwG2D4rKnyQbvdhmjxVFst9DGBhXP9d6uQVlRpDbuwSDA/s200/Cat+fitness.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446949102806530018" border="0" /></a>This blog needs a good exercise plan. Perhaps Jillian Michaels could put it on the 30-Day Shred and give it a nice kick in the bum? It sits here, gathering dust, with only the occasional post, but no longer--it's time for a shape up!<br /><br />The past year I've worked hard to get back into running shape. I struggled for a few years to get my thyroid under control, and during that time I couldn't maintain the energy to run, but now I'm energized and more grateful than ever that I'm able to hit the pavement. I run every other day, and I've worked up my mileage to train for a half marathon in June. It's been almost five years (!) since I ran the marathon, and it's about time I did another long race. However, when I manage to improve one part of my life, I seem to lag in another...<br /><br />In my last post--way, <span style="font-style: italic;">way</span> back, over a <span style="font-style: italic;">month</span> ago--I mentioned my bout of homesickness. The truth is I started writing that post <span style="font-style: italic;">three weeks</span> before I published it. I couldn't find the right words. Ironically, I finally managed to communicate my thoughts on the subject while home on a visit. I caved and went home for a week to spend time with my family; I also used it as a personal/writing retreat. I took a 'break' from running over the holidays, which extended a <span style="font-style: italic;">bit</span> further than I meant it to, and I was finding the final novel revisions excruciating. The trip home worked: I managed to get in some refreshing runs by my lovely <a href="http://www.bendparksandrec.org/Parks__Trails/Deschutes_River_Trail/">Deschutes River</a>, and I spent time reading my manuscript and making progress on changes. (I also visited my favorite <a href="http://www.mcmenamins.com/691-old-st-francis-pub-home">restaurants</a> and <a href="http://www.dilusso.com/">coffeeshops</a>, which <span style="font-style: italic;">may</span> have counteracted the running, but it was well worth it!)<br /><br />I'm still battling the revision demons, so by the time I start to write a post, all my energy is used up. I have ideas, but when I sit down at the laptop - <span style="font-style: italic;">POOF</span> - all gone. Last week I received a wonderful award from the lovely <a href="http://tea-stains.blogspot.com/">JJ at Tea Stains</a>, which made me feel particularly undeserving because it is <a href="http://linktoink.blogspot.com/2009/11/new-awardand-new-design.html">The Prolific Blogger Award</a>. I hung my head in shame for a moment at how unprolific my blog has become of late, but then I decided to buck up and get to work. I've been writing this blog for over four years--and I'm nearing the 400 post mark!--so it's only natural for my motivation to come and go. However, I can't let that stop me. When I write, run, and blog regularly, I feel in balance. My life has been out of balance for ages, and it's time I began a training plan, like I did with running. Baby steps for now, but expect to see me around more often. Besides, an Angie training plan can't be nearly as painful as the 30-Day Shred, right?Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14298690.post-45985967403222693232010-02-09T13:51:00.000-08:002010-02-09T13:59:43.043-08:00NostalgiaNostalgia is the scent of winter firewood lightly perfuming the dry high desert air. It is the crisp blue skies of morning, the swirling pink sunsets of twilight, and the inky black nights with a sparkling display of stars. It's the majestic view of mountains covered in snow, and the less charming sight of roadside snow colored deep red by the local cinders which provide traction against the ice. It is tall magnificent trees, mountain lakes, buttes, and the sparse high desert landscape of pine, juniper, and sage.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfmP_OVhqJUbOC4qAJED-32wbSVeqr6Mjkn0c59XZ7ZD9w2-5Qfgktn0oItBdvT5V8WwqRi3WqLPX1PsswUDD29Rw_dxuO486eb7fg51PKAlKOHEnxu0dYFQE2i94er01tg7Sytw/s1600-h/bachelor-bend.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 132px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfmP_OVhqJUbOC4qAJED-32wbSVeqr6Mjkn0c59XZ7ZD9w2-5Qfgktn0oItBdvT5V8WwqRi3WqLPX1PsswUDD29Rw_dxuO486eb7fg51PKAlKOHEnxu0dYFQE2i94er01tg7Sytw/s400/bachelor-bend.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436351512703774962" border="0" /></a><br />I am suffering from homesickness more and more lately. Bouts of crippling nostalgia overwhelm me at times, and I can hardly explain where they come from or why. I traveled home to Oregon five times last year--a record since we moved south--and that certainly hasn't helped matters. Although California is now my home, I don't always feel at home. I like living here. There are many great things about it, not least the mild climate and the wealth of activities and culture in the bay area. But sometimes I just miss the familiar:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUfHMCK2sCT9BV7BEn-a4pPw7w4CeAqW5rSJZLC3efuN1K1voxcaOKf_vTxO0QUXMcx67qzT1uKdC45A4Rl3fDJkUWkacnSASP9mVQjS1aXgDzTeO9iwMhxvcCCGKccZPa4ADsSw/s1600-h/IMG_3979.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUfHMCK2sCT9BV7BEn-a4pPw7w4CeAqW5rSJZLC3efuN1K1voxcaOKf_vTxO0QUXMcx67qzT1uKdC45A4Rl3fDJkUWkacnSASP9mVQjS1aXgDzTeO9iwMhxvcCCGKccZPa4ADsSw/s320/IMG_3979.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432072989414264594" border="0" /></a><br />I love the snow in winter, the dry heat, the unpredictable weather. Gorgeous mountain views greet you every morning. People are friendly and life is an adventure, not a race. Most importantly for me, I have a network of family and friends. I have a group of best friends--girls who have been there for me, whether near or far, for over a decade. You can't build that kind of life in six years, no matter how hard you try. I do love my little life here, but that's how it feels sometimes: <span style="font-style: italic;">little</span>.Angiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01338896212556894322noreply@blogger.com10