Vote for Me, or not . . . whichever; and The Usual Crap

You may have read my LJ Idol Competition entry about The Great Spelling Bee Flap . . . if you’d like to help me stay in that competition, feel free to vote for me on ballot #2. (That link will open in a new window so you won’t lose your place in your friendslist.) It’s also fine if you don’t do polls and memes and thus won’t do it. Thanks for all your support!
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Yesterday was a difficult day on all fronts; my mother has had a lot of pain in her back and legs and a worsening of her breathing problem, and asks you to pray or send positive energy. She’s in full sulk mode at me, which happens when I stand up for myself in any way instead of letting her run things. I took her to three places to try to get her something to eat that she could stand, but nothing suited her, and I made the mistake of saying that I could never please her. *sigh*

Hubby didn’t help me at all by coming home in a “ranting” mood (because of something or another at work that eventually turned out in his favor, as demonstrated by an e-mail he got around 11 PM) and following me back here to the computer room to rave on about how my mother needs one of those insurance policies . . . you can probably guess the kind . . . and he really showed that he has changed a lot in the last few years (says he hates this house and its floor plan, that if he hurts someone’s feelings or makes a mistake he doesn’t care and doesn’t second-guess himself as to whether he has been fair, that he doesn’t expect me to ever have any kind of success, that he resents working and he doesn’t feel he should have to do ANYthing around the house even if it’s his home too and I can’t get up in the attic to change the A/C filter, and so forth.) He’s had a lot of anger and resentment since his parents died, and withdraws into his WoW and other online games to shoot things, which is bad but is not something I can change for him.

Got three rejections from agents who’d seemed interested at first.

I did get a nice Boston fern when I stopped by the Home Depot to replace that toilet seat that cracked, but this did not make up for anything.

I tried to write the chase through the desert for Ari Book 2, but decided to make Dennis write it for me, because I am no good at action scenes. So at least there’s still one person on this side of the Veil whom I can take advantage of–and of course there’s my dog, who was really sad all day knowing that I was taking a beating on all fronts and kept giving my mother sad worried looks because he didn’t understand why she was sulking and angry. Poor little dog–if only he could talk, he would straighten us all out. He understands people-speak perfectly well, but doesn’t have the vocal equipment to talk back.

Wasn’t yesterday the anniversary of the Oklahoma City bombing? And I don’t even want to talk about Virginia Tech’s tragedy on Monday, because it could have been prevented, IMHO, and it’s just too depressing to think about any more; we watched that coverage all day Monday and Tuesday, and by Tuesday PM we simply could not take any more and turned it to the classic movies station. I also escaped by writing the chili cookoff scene for Ari Book 2. Ari’s going to get an opportunity to (as so kindly puts it) “get laid,” and I think she’s going to make the mistake of taking it. That should screw her up even MORE. Why should SHE be happy? *grin*

P. S.
(1) Authors are required to make their characters suffer, so this is kosher passing-it-along behavior on my part.
(2) There will still be no explicit sex scene in the book. So it goes.

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Author: shalanna

Shalanna: rhymes with "Madonna" and "I wanna," and is not a soundalike with "Hosanna" or "Sha-Na-Na." Aging hippie with long hair, husband, elderly mother, and yappy Pomeranian. I've been writing since I could hold a crayon. I started with fiction, which Mama said was "lying." “Don’t tell stories,” she would admonish, in Southern vernacular. “That's all in your imagination!” When grownups said this, they were not approving. So, shamed, I stopped telling stories for a few years--rather, I stopped letting anyone read them. I'm married to a fellow computer nerd who doesn't really like hearing about writing, but who reads sf/fantasy and understands the creative drive. I'm actually a nonconformist/hippie still wearing bluejeans and drop earrings and the Alice-in-Wonderland hair with headbands and sandals. Favorite flavor is chocolate/orange, favorite color is either Dreamsicle orange (cantaloupe) or bubble-gum pink, favorite musical is either Bye Bye Birdie, Rocky Horror, or The Producers . . . wait, I also love The Music Man. Is this getting way too specific and irrelevant yet? Obvious why I don't sell a ton of flash fiction, isn't it? To define oneself, I always say, it is good to make a list. How about a booklist? Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird Frank and Ernestine Gilbreth, Cheaper by the Dozen C.S.Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (all the Narnia books) J.R.R.Tolkien,The Hobbit/LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy Gail Godwin, The Odd Woman F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby J. D. Salinger, Catcher in the Rye (before dismissing it, actually read it) George Orwell, 1984 Kurt Vonnegut, Cat's Cradle Donna Tartt, The Secret History Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn James Allen, As A Man Thinketh Mark Winegardner, Elvis Presley Boulevard James Thurber, My Life and Hard Times The Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum Winnie-the-Pooh/House at Pooh Corner, A. A. Milne Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie The KJV and NIV Bible (each translation has its glories)

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