I have to take Scooter to the vet today for his yearly check-up. Of course, being Halloween and all, he's going in costume. (What kind of cat mother do you think I am?) If you can guess Scooter's costume, you'll win a hardback copy of ... 
Last Rituals is an Icelandic novel of secret symbols, medieval witchcraft, and modern murder. Perfect for Halloween, don't you think?
Contest winner will be announced tomorrow, along with pictures of Scooter in his costume!
10 34.48% kristen
5 17.24% halloween funnies
3 10.34% vomit pumpkin
2 6.90% alan rickman blogspot
2 6.90% kristen florida erotica writer
1 3.45% angela james rejection letter
1 3.45% where to buy coconut chocolate in hawaii
1 3.45% painters that changed their name
1 3.45% buy hershey's kisses filled with cherry cordial cream
1 3.45% airtran sucks
1 3.45% kristin
1 3.45% janet reid miss snark
29 Entries = 100%
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What does this teach us? If you want more traffic to your blog, blog about me. LOL - Seriously though, discuss.
I have a rather active imagination. I am a writer, after all. It's what we do, this active imagining. However, there is no off switch. I wish there was. I'm mentioned this before. See, when I go to sleep, I lose control of my brain and it does whatever it wants, regardless of what I might enjoy.
of a sad, dramatic movie. I was a Hooter's waitress (not such a stretch, I know) struggling to make ends meet to finance my way through college or dental hygienist school or something like that, in love with a widower who had some sort of degenerative bone disease as played by Tom Cruise (you do realize in real life the top of his head wouldn't pass my sternum?) Tom's son from his late wife was played by that kid from Jerry Maguire, oddly enough. This kid and his coke-bottle glasses came into Hooter's to tell me his father was in the hospital. His bones were crumbling. Cue dramatic music and tears.
Hotrod and I plan to see a movie today or tomorrow, but honestly, nothing that's showing is really grabbing us. Have you been to see anything good lately?
I have a workshop idea for Nationals and the clock on getting that submitted is ticking. I was gungho on doing this, but now I'm not sure. Should I submit it or not? Here's the general blurb:
For all of you cat owners (or those of you owned by cats), wouldn't this be a handy sign to have? Just drop it over the offending mess until a more convenient time for clean-up arrives. Sweet! Add that to my Christmas list.
I'm blogging at the Knight Agency blog today - stop by and say hi, would ya? I wouldn't my agent to think I'm a loser. *wink*
Supernatural seduction from the bestselling author of Touched by Darkness.
Since a brutal attack on her sister eleven years ago, Marla Reynolds has been emotionally frozen. But the passion of one man-a member of an ancient superhuman race-could melt her defenses.
This is a great series by Cathering Spangler - you won't be disappointed! Captions must be in by Sunday night. I'll announce the winner Monday morning! Get your thinking cogs oiled up!
7. Sushi Bandages - When doesn't slapping raw fish on a wound make it feel better?
Living where we do in Florida, we have a plethora of wildlife that hangs out around our house. Lizards, turtles, the occasional gator and a variety of bird life that would make Audubon jealous - roseate spoonbills, golden hawks, herons, even a bald eagle once. Among this group is perhaps our most frequent and dear visitors, the sandhill cranes.
They have become so comfortable with Hotrod that they eat out of his hand. I've started calling him "the bird whisperer" - funny, aren't I?
Anyway, when he's away, which is often, they barely tolerate my presence when I bring them seed, eyeing me like I'm somehow responsible for Hotrod's absence. Usually I end up dumping the seed, then going inside to watch them. Yesterday as I was doing this, our next door neighbor's yard guys stopped their mowing and edging for a moment.
The edger pointed at the sandhills and proudly proclaimed (with great seriousness and wonder) to the guy on the mower, "Look! Pterodactyls!"
Um...I think even the sandhills started laughing.
You may recall some time ago, right after Nationals actually, I did a little blog experiment where I posted pictures of Alan Rickman, along with the copious use of his name in an attempt to draw more hits on my blog. (You know, this one that you're reading right now.)
If you ordered something called a Hot Fudge Sunday, and the waitress brought you liver and onions, you'd probably be a little upset, no? Spam sandwich instead of a cheesesteak sub - not so good.
Just like with character names, you have certain expectations based on what something or someone is called. A hot fudge sundae should be delicious ice cream, gooey warm fudge sauce, a ruffled swirl of whipped cream and a cherry. A man named Luc Ravenheart should probably not be an accountant. A woman named Mary Elizabeth Flanigan should probably not be a trained assassin.
Exceptions exist in every part of life, but I think you get my drift.
Sometimes names come to me, and the character comes with it - backstory, appearance, goals, motivation - the whole package. Usually my main characters come to me this way. Occasionally, they are the impetus for the entire book.
My secondary characters rarely come through so clearly. For them, I have to do research. I like names that have some sort of meaning to them that matches the character's purpose. Do you do this? Where do your character names come from? Do you change names midbook? Do you need to really know your characters before you find a name that fits? Talk to me.
These come courtesy of the ever-fabulous Marley Gibson. Enjoy! 
This is one of those books that deserves a big NY publisher, but because the setting is maybe a little different, the storyline so real, the characters are bigger and grittier - it's just a little too "out of the box" for NY. So, this is your chance to get a hold of it - it goes on sale Tuesday at Freya's Bower. Babe King is a tremendous writer. And I'm not just saying that because I'm one of her critique partners. It's the reason I'm one of her critique partners. If that's not enough, she's donating half the profit from this book to Gran's Van, an organization that helps feed the homeless. Really, with all that going for this book, what have you got to lose?
This hunky youth worker is NOT what the doctor ordered.
Dr. Jaclyn Donnel will fight anything to fix the inefficient health care system that let her father die. When charismatic youth worker, Sam Allen's expensive new rescue program threatens her under-funded ER, they're bound to butt heads.
Sam knows first hand that the only way out of the gutter is a hand up. He's determined to save Tasmania's street kids, regardless of cost and the sexy, headstrong doctor opposing him, until one youth demands a price even Sam won’t pay -- Jaclyn's life.
They may not save the world, but they might just save each other.
Between the Gutter and the Sky received 5 champagne flutes from Cocktail Reviews!!! “A thrilling finale gets the heart pumping and the tummy doing flip-flops.”
On Sale October 9th at Freya's Bower!! Read Excerpt Website
I'm watching you today, I just want you to know that. So you better: get those pages written, stop slacking off, finally send that query in, polish that synopsis, enter that contest, clean off that desk, get that blog posted, figure out that GMC, find some motivation, send in those revisions, answer that email, make that scene work, ditch that unnecessary POV, learn where commas go, adjust your formatting and rethink your TSTL characters.
Meanwhile, I'll be napping...
I'm not the most organized person. I readily admit that. In fact, my agent recently mentioned to me the possibility of keeping track of some things via spreadsheet. I told her spreadsheets and I were like gum and hair - best kept separate.
I do make attempts at organization. In a way, I guess you could say I have my own version of organization. For instance, I keep a file that holds all my publisher correspondence from before I had an agent (all of that is email now) - that file contains both rejections and requests. I don't feel the need to divide them up. I have a stack of things I know need looking at (and about once a month, I go through it whether or not I like it) and I have another stack (small one) for stuff that I want to throw away, but don't feel like I can just yet.
My desk drawers hold things like software CDs, envelopes, business card files, and a bag of lovely dried lavender a friend sent me. Somehow, in my mind, it all works.
I have several friends who are mistresses of the spreadsheet and command the powers of the color-coordinated filing system like they were born to it. Me, not so much. Is there hope for me? Are you born organized or can you learn it? Does the pain ever go away?
How do you organize?
According to that fount of info, Wikipedia, Synesthesia is "a neurologically based phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway." If you watched House last night, you already know what I'm talking about. Boiled down it's seeing sound or hearing colors. The picture I've included is how someone with synesthesia might see written letters and numbers.
