Scarlet Letters

JIM: You're evil! ME: Am not! How am I evil this time? JIm: "Kill her, kill the main character." Even my editor said if I did that my readers would hate me. ME: So? Screw em. JIM : Evil! Just because you always kill everyone... ME: Do not! JIM: Do too! ME: Sometimes they live! Dale* lived, and he will go on to have many other adventures! JIM: *mutters* He just won't want to live after what you did... ME: I don't believe in happy endings. JIM You're living one but you don't believe in them. ME: All love stories end sadly. They either break up or one of them dies. JIM: Evil! ----- JIM: I guess two of my classes won't be on Blackboard, since I don't see them yet. ME: You can always do what we did when I went to college. JIM: What's that? ME: Find out what your grade was at the next class. JIM: No. I want to know now. ME: You kids and your technology. JIM: I'm not going to college in the days of stone knives a...

I have really got to stop doing this to myself. I am too old to run around the country like this. First, I must offer my regrets to the fine folks at River City Comic Expo in Little Rock. There will be many fine guests there this weekend, so please show up and visit with them! So that kicks me off at Dragoncon , where some postal shenanigans unfortunately delayed my official confirmation and thus my panel schedule is pretty light. At the moment, all I know about are panels on the Writers Track at 2:30 pm. Friday and Sunday, an Apocalypse Rising panel at 4 pm. Saturday, and my reading will be at 5:30 p.m. Sunday. More panels may be added in the future, and I will offer chocolate and a free limited-edition chapbook to attendees at the reading on Sunday. Naturally, a limited presence means less opportunity to sell books, especially in a zoo like Dragoncon among 65,000 of my closest friends. But I will be there, and I'm bringing the new book as well as some older titles and out...

Those of you who follow our family on Facebook know we were hit with some rough times this past month. Jim's mother passed away, and while it was not wholly unexpected given her health and age, it was a heartbreaking loss that has affected us all deeply, especially Jim. It's hard to know what to write, because her story really isn't mine to tell. What I know of Pauline Adams came largely from stories told by others. I know she was a stalwart mother of twelve children, ten of whom survived infancy, nine who lived to mourn her. I know she had the bravery to stand on her own as a divorced woman in the early 1970s, which can't have been easy, especially since (I think) at least seven of her children were still at home. And I know how much she loved Dick Adams, Jim's stepfather. They married when Jim was very young, and Papa Dick, as they called him, must have been one hell of a man. There's hardly a person in Jim's very extended family whose voice doesn'...

I have not said much publicly because, frankly, just about everyone who knows us is on Jim's Facebook feed as well as mine. So most of you know that his mother has been in the hospital and is not doing well. Tonight we got word that they have to stop dialysis for her, as her heart simply can't take the strain. That ends most of the lifesaving options, and all that is left now is to make her as comfortable and pain-free as possible. Jim is catching a bus to Memphis tomorrow night (tonight, when you're reading this). He and his brother will drive down to Jackson, Miss. on Thursday, so Jim can say his goodbyes. From there we play it by ear, as it is all in God's good graces now. I don't have the words for what Jim and his family is going through, or anything like coherent words to write about Pauline and what she means to us. I hope those words will come, because it's all I know how to do.  In the meantime, I ask your prayers, good thoughts and heal...

Our awesome bungee trip to visit the folks this weekend came with an extra bonus. Well, besides retrieving the Spawn. It was a bungee trip because I had to work Sunday, so we booked it back in the wee hours of Sunday morning so I'd be back to start my shift. But at least we had 48 hours to hang out with my dad and stepmom at their awesome lake house. Friday was highlighted by parasailing over the Lake of the Ozarks. Boy and I had the most awesome time. It was an amazing experience, with a spectacular view and not at all scary or insecure - hell, the seats on the Sky Screamer at Six Flags sway more than that parasail harness did. Jim did not fly. Jim is a giant chicken-man who stayed on the ground sipping beer with my folks. He still owes me for the hot-air balloon ride that didn't happen the day after we got engaged, and now he owes me parasailing too. Bawk bawk bawk, husband-o-mine. Wahoo! The next day was a ride on their boat, which they still  haven't named,...

Why is it that the massive disasters strike just when it's most inconvenient? And is there any way I can blame Isabel the Ghost for this? Look, we don't have huge amounts of money. We manage to keep our heads above water by dogpaddling really really fast. We put a bit of our paychecks aside each week into two funds: one for Christmas, and one for "vacation." Now, "vacation" is a malleable concept. This year, "vacation" meant the Fourth of July in Memphis, which allowed Boy to see his father and allowed us to pick up Stepson for his summer visit. That put two teenage boys in the house (milk count: nine gallons in six days) and the costs of two outings: a day at the St. Louis Science Center for Jim to do the male bonding thing over the robots exhibit - pout, I had to work - and our annual sojourn to Six Flags. This is why we are both sunburned within an inch of our lives. It was a crazy, loud, fun week, and that our savings were pretty well dep...

So here, have an adorable grandbaby instead. Happy Independence Day!

Word count: 1,891. I've had worse sessions. I have two projects I plan to complete during the month of writing like a madwoman. I know if I don't get them done this month, they won't get done for a long time, because the fall schedule is brutal. However, I'm going to have to dig out my old wrist brace, because Ye Olde Wrist is aching something fierce and it's just the first day. Once those projects are done, I'm kind of at loose ends. There's a number of things I can choose to do, but none that are contracted. I could write the final novel of the Blackfire series and tell y'all how Major Sara Harvey's battles with the zombies end up. That series is out of print and we're down to three copies of The Cold Ones.    If I do write the final part, I might try to repackage it in a compendium edition as we did with the three vampire novels for Nocturne Infernum . I could write the next vampire novel. Outlines for at least three more books exist, ...

While I was pregnant with Boy, I went through the precertification and piles o' paperwork in advance of his birth so the nonsense would be fairly limited when it came time to deliver the baby. As we were filling out the paperwork, I saw that they put my first husband's name down as the responsible party with his Social Security number. "Wait," I said. "I'm the patient, and our insurance is through my employment. Please don't do that." "I'm sorry," she replied. "It's hospital policy. The husband is always the responsible party for medical bills." I begged. I pleaded. I had already fought enough battles with that HMO to know that unless my name was on everything including graven images marked with blood, they would deny the claims. Besides, it was 1998, not 1958. Why in bloody hell did my husband have to be the responsible party? I handled the bills, the insurance was in my name through my employment. But he had the ...

SCENE: The car, making an unscheduled turnaround in a Main Street parking lot. BOY: Mom, what are you doing? ME: I'm going back. BOY: I have to be at Scouts in fifteen minutes. ME: We're like six blocks away. You'll make Scouts. We pull up to the fire station, and I get out with my camera. Commence several pictures of the firefighter candidates doing "the ladder test," as they climb up to the top of the ladder truck at full extension - to see if they can physically do it, and if they'll freak out at the top. ME: Get my iPad. BOY: *eyes camera* Why do you need your iPad? ME: To take notes. BOY: You said it was just a photo! ME: I have to get information for the caption! BOY: *sigh* *teenage eyeroll* *retrieves iPad* ME: Thank you. I got the photo array. It was cool. He made Scouts. He's used to this.

I have officially given up on the Boy's generation coming up with good teen dramedies. It really must suck to be a teenager now. To watch a movie with teenage protagonists, they basically have the choice of fantastical worlds like The Hunger Games  (good times, but whoa depressing) or they can go to "old" movies like Harry Potter  (just let that sink in for a minute). Or they can go to movies like The Fault in Our Stars  or The Perks of Being a Wallflower , nicely tragic. Boy is all excited about Paper Towns,  because it actually is about teenagers. My new mission is to find good teen movies for Boy. The movie-teens of the Eighties might have been a little light on parental supervision and plenty heavy on sex, drugs and rock-n-roll, but they were awesome in all the bright-neon gaudiness I remember so fondly. The top themes were breaking through socioeconomic barriers: poor vs. rich was a constant theme, as well as busting through the caste system of the modern Am...

With Hypericon behind us, we enter a two-month lull in touring. I'm going to pretend that means I will be able to catch up the LitUnd inventory and bookkeeping, redesign LiteraryUnderworld.com and port to a new vendor, edit two books in the queue and finish rewriting Banshee's Run as I manage Julnawrimo next month . Pause for laughter. All those things have to be done before Labor Day, however, because I've been accepted at Dragoncon again and thus I will wend my way to Atlanta in September. That kicks off one of the most grueling schedules I've ever set for myself. First it's Dragoncon for the Labor Day weekend in Atlanta. I'm a solo act at that one. Then I go back home - for two days. Then it's off to Louisville, Ky. for Imaginarium, the second weekend in September. This will likely be a Literary Underworld event, with the usual cast of characters and the Traveling Bar (of Doom). Then back home, for three days. I fly to Florida that Thursday ...

It does take more than money to make me happy. But the sales from this weekend in Nashville go a long way. I'm not going to disclose numbers. But I will say that the gross sales figures from this weekend are within shouting distance of our gross sales from Midsouthcon, one of our highest-selling conventions.  Why is this shocking? Midsouthcon has more than 2,000 attendees. Hypericon had maybe 200.  Those guys rock. My authors were happy. The staff was happy. And the Literary Underworld Traveling Bar was well-stocked.  (This show's most popular items were an awesome maple bourbon provided by Underlord Stephen Zimmer and the famous apple pie moonshine provided by Michael Farnette. Yum.) It takes more than sales. It takes good friends, colleagues in the small-press trenches and intelligent conversation that goes beyond debates about the Heisenberg Compensator to the reflections of popular culture in the world around us. It's always worth the lost sleep. ...

I've been a loyal TiVo customer since The Leprechauns first sent me one. Waaaaaay back in 2005 or so, a TiVo with a year's service prepaid arrived on my doorstep shortly before my birthday. The card was signed only, "The Leprechauns." I was doing a lot more with CultureGeek back then, since it was part of my day job. When the column was canceled, I relaunched it independently. The upside was that I got to say "piece of shit" in my reviews. The downside was that I couldn't use work time for writing reviews anymore, which is why I go waaaaaay too long between posts. There are only so many hours in the day, and I spin too many plates as it is. I always assumed the Leprechauns were friends who were fond of the column and wanted to assist me in finding stuff to review. I never wanted to know, frankly; some things should stay secret. It was immensely helpful in that regard, and I became a loyal TiVo customer - even converted my long-resistant dad to the wo...

After a long day of medical nonsense, I got to relax with my writer pals at Eville Writers. And a puppy. Here, have a gratuitous puppy picture. Said puppy is a service dog being trained by awesome writer and Literary Underlord Cole Gibsen . I warned her that if she didn't bring me fresh stock to take to Nashville this weekend, I was going to send Jimmy to her house and mug her for books. If you have any fondness for YA fantasy and kickass writing, you should check out Cole. We seriously cannot keep her titles in stock. And we have the new one, which will be up on the LitUnd site before the weekend. She's amazing and her work is really on the upswing. Topics of conversation included the usual: state of the industry, self-pub vs. trad pub, recent signings, upcoming conventions, marketing your book and Julnawrimo. Yeah, I guess I'm going to do Julnawrimo again. I'm doing a rewrite on a previously-written project, because I am still not happy with it and since i...

I know some of you have known some of this, but now that it looks like it's not going to progress further, I guess I can tell the whole frustrating, annoying, infuriating story. We really aren't ones for big expensive phones. I use an iPhone because it is necessary for my job, and my old iPhone was about five years old. Man had acquired a smartphone two years ago; Boy was using an old-fashioned dumbphone. But as Man's contract came up for renewal, we decided to combine all of us into one family plan, and trade in our aging phones for a trio of shiny new iPhones on an installment plan. The menfolk were inordinately excited, especially Boy. He had never had a smartphone, and immediately began filling it up with goofy games and madly texting his friends. I was looking forward to helping him use it for organization, for time management and tracking his school assignments. At least, that was the working plan. Only a few days later, Boy had his theatrical debut in Les Miser...

A pleasant surprise today as Boy and I exited the local grocery store: a clerk reached out and handed me a small bouquet of flowers. "Free today, ma'am," she said, smiling. I am a sucker for cut flowers. I prefer the live ones, but they don't stay that way around me. I'm working on it. Man tends to mock me about this, because he likes to play fast and loose with his life. These were exceptionally bright daisies, in colors practically neon-strong that rarely occur in nature - at least in daisies. I knew they'd been dyed, which I usually try to avoid, but hey - free. The white and red roses adorning my living room had become desiccated corpses by now, and I lacked the cash to replace them with something more pseudo-alive. After putting the groceries away, I carried the dried-out roses to the sort-of compost pile in the yard, behind the trees. I cleaned the wedding vase and filled it with water and the little packet of preservative that came with the daisie...

It could have been worse, or so I keep telling myself. The price tag for my stupidity is pretty high, however. A new hard drive with lifetime warranty, plus data retrieval of whatever they can rescue from my dead drive. A new battery, required because my laptop was declared vintage within the last couple of weeks. That means Apple will no longer manufacture the parts, and since my battery was about to die, I needed to get a new battery while they're still available. Therefore I was going to postpone my planned RAM upgrade until I could recover from this financial gut-punch. However, I figured out that if I did the RAM now, it wouldn't cost me any additional labor costs and it came with a lifetime warranty, as opposed to the 'crack the case and pray' warranty that comes when I do the work myself. Total cost: $525. To be fair, the cost would have been the same if I hadn't been stupid. However, I wouldn't be sitting here praying that they are able to rescue ...

Let me preface this by saying that snarky or even well-meaning comments about Apple really will not be welcome at this time. I can't believe how often I have to say this, but seriously, guys. I am quite stupid. It's not like I don't know the golden rule of computers: Thou Shalt Back Up. I'm actually quite good about it, usually. My mobile devices back up daily to the cloud. My laptop backs up to an external drive I keep on my desk. It isn't wireless, so I had to remember to physically plug in my laptop for backing up, but it works. Or it did. A few months ago, my external drive went kablooey. That's a technical term. We planned to replace it, but we were stony broke that month - like, tuna and macaroni broke. We also knew that the house wifi router was three years old and getting twitchy. So we discussed it, and decided that we would kill two birds with one expensive stone. The Airport Time Capsule is an awesome dual-band router and a 3TB wireles...

The Good • Boy's theatrical debut was delightful fun, and he had a smashing time. I had not seen the scaled-down community theater version of Les Miserables before, and as my dad put it, the very young, energetic cast was obviously giving it absolutely everything they had. Boy was terrific as an ensemble player. He was a disturbingly convincing drunk, which means he's seen too many cons, and died most heroically on the barricade. (Spoilers!) I was not prepared for it to be so stressful! I was much more nervous than he was, hoping nothing went wrong. My stomach was in knots! But I was even less prepared for my emotional reaction to seeing Boy on the stage. The theater meant a great deal to me as a young woman, and I have never once regretted my decision to study it. I also have not regretted my decision to give it up, but I was overwhelmed by emotion when I saw Boy up on the stage obviously having so much fun "At the End of the Day." • The Author Fair went off ni...