It's OK to say yes if the idea intrigues you. And it should, really. Go read my review* of this groovy, 2014 RITA® nominated paranormal romance novel, written by Alabama native Lexi George, to find out why!
*I wrote this review for the RITA® Reader Challenge 2014, hosted by the incomparable and discerning babes over at Smart Bitches Trashy Books. The RITA® Awards recognize "excellence in published romance novels and novellas" in a competition sponsored by Romance Writers of America®. For a complete list of finalists in every category, click here. I mean, your wallet and To Be Read Stack(s) may not appreciate you checking these out, but your imagination will.
NYC's experiencing mighty stormy weather at the moment. Here's the text exchange between me and My Kid about him getting picked up by his friend to go to band practice:
Me: Ok. Text when u get to [friend's name redacted]'s
Kid: Why???
Me: Cause it looks like Armageddon out there.
Me: Isn't it dark, cloudy, rainy in [hometown's name redacted]?
Kid: Idk what youre talking about the sun is out the birds are singing a unicorn just flew by and Osama Bin Laden is dead like the forecast could not be more positive
Me: ...
Kid: Naw but yeah its p shitty
See what I mean? Goofy! But not obnoxiously so!
I wonder...
...should I worry? Is he simply dialing back in his advancing years? Or is this a fake out, and he's lulling me into a false sense of security, planning to zap me a good one when I least expect it?
I apologize in advance to all my fellow perverts who thought this post would be about sex. It is not. It is a Grammar Nazi Rant because I absolutely must. I roll my eyes, so fucking hard, every time I hear this travesty of language that I fear those orbs will pop out of their sockets. Thus, I must raise the lid off my steaming pot. (That is not a euphemism for sex.) (OK, it could be, but it's not this time. Focus, people!)
"To place down in a position of rest, or in a horizontal position."
The site further provides the following example of the proper usage of this transitive verb:
"...to lay a body in the grave..."
Which is exactly what I want to do when I hear folks say shit like, "I'm going to lay down." Is that so? Oh, you mean you're going to lie down? Well, then, fucking say that. Because Wiktionary confirms that the word "lie" means:
"To rest in a horizontal position on a surface."
My guess is some people remember that kiddie prayer from way-back-when which starts,
"Now I lay me down to sleep..."
But check it: in that sentence, I lay me down. I place myself down in a position of rest, or in a horizontal position. Thus, that usage works. The other crap doesn't.
Even the expression "getting laid" works, if you're using it to describe the act of some other lucky person placing you in a horizontal position for purposes of sexual intercourse. Presumably, if one readily, frequently, and indiscriminately permits oneself to be placed in a horizontal position for purposes of sexual intercourse, one might be considered an "easy lay" (but not by me, 'cause I don't judge). (Much.) (Nah, J/K. To each, her/his own.) (Except when it comes to grammar, in which case you'd better toe the goddamn line.)
So no, you weren't laying down on the couch, you were lying down. But you did lay your fork down on the table when you were done eating that lasagne. (You know, assuming you were using a fork.) (And if you weren't—ick.)
For a more comprehensive, and far less rabid, take on the matter, click here. Or just take my word for it. Whatever you do, do not get these wrong if you've a pedant like me in your vicinity, as the poor unfortunate may lose control and...I shudder to think what might happen.
that they want to share your stuff with their own Twitter followers by re-tweeting it. So, because your pal(s) did you this kindness, you might Tweet back a quick, "Thanks for the RT!"—a polite and lovely way to acknowledge someone's support.
After doing this myself for a good while, I saw another way I could show my thanks. First, as soon as I can, I "Favorite" that person's re-tweet, to show that I saw it and am grateful. Next, I find something of my follower's to re-tweet (which takes about the same amount of time as it takes to type out a thank-you message). This is especially helpful to fellow authors, whether Indie or traditionally published, or creators of ANY stripe, as you're spreading the word about their stuff, which is exactly what they need.
This works for Facebook too: go ahead and "Like" that post of yours that your peep has "Shared" and then share something of your peep's! In fact, this is probably doable on any social media platform.
What if you can't find something of your friend's to re-tweet or share? You can quickly create something by Tweeting about your friend's Web site, or Sharing a memory of some kooky shenanigans y'all got up to, way back when.
For me, the bottom line is that I want my followers/friends to know that I saw what they did for me and want to return the favor by promoting them as well. I mean, yeah, it's generally more work than I like to do, lazy gal that I am, but it feels good (when I remember to do it!). ;-)
(OK, yeah; it's not actually trademarked and, in fact, I'm playing whether you're ready or not. I just asked 'cause that, and exhorting people to wave their hands in the air like they just don't care, is how you get folks all pumped up for stuff.)
Using the Random Word Generator at CreativityGames.net, I'm going to toss out a word and you're going to share the first thing that comes to your mind, in the comments section below.
Can ya dig it?
Today's random word is...
TASK
To learn what came to my mind, select the darkened text between the asterisks.
***
After a few seconds of blinking rapidly at the blank my mind drew, it occurred to me that a task force should be assembled to apprehend my latest celebrity crush, Richard Armitage, who's making the character of John Proctor in The Crucible a bazillion times hotter than he's got any right to be. Le W00F!!!
***
Go on, then. Reveal unto the world what that word inspired in your little gray cells.
If you dare...
(And you can click here to check out that thing I mentioned in the dark space, above.)
I catapulted my dad into the 21st century on Sunday by giving him a Chromebook for Father's Day (hope all you Papas out there had a good one!) and spent 7.5 hours (yes, seven and a half hours) showing him the basics of computers, e-mail, and the Interwebz. And I didn't lose my cool with him, not even once!
(Do y'all know how fucking exhausting it is to keep your cool with a close relative for 7.5 hours?)
(For me?)
(That's. Fucking. Exhausting!)
So for this week's post I'm asking y'all to do the work, since I couldn't (OK, OK—since I didn't plan ahead and ran out of time to write a proper blog post on Sunday because I'm wickedly lazy, fine, fine, I admit it. Go on, rat me out to the Blogosphere Overlords, if you absolutely must.). Check out this epic rap battle between Edgar Allan Poe and Stephen King and let me know in the comments:
So I've been re-reading one of my all-time fave books, Bram Stoker's Dracula. Today I chillaxed with the character whose name I ripped off for my pseudonym, Mina (while she was still a Murray and not a Harker) during her time in Whitby, in which a portion of the classic gothic/horror novel is set. Even though there's this undertow of uneasiness, what with Mina's fiancé Jonathan being MIA, and her BFF Lucy sleepwalking like a mo-fo, I realized I smiled as I read along on my Kindle (free version!). Once I realized that, I wondered if I'm actually more of a monster than I even knew ('cause some shit's 'bout to go down with Lucy that ain't no smilin' matter). BUT then it dawned on me: I've been smiling because Whitby's a coastal town, and I'm a veritable fool for the sea. (OK, I'm a fool in general; I own it.)
I know loads of folks share these feelings for the sea and ocean; it's this profound connection to a mystery you never want to solve, because it just feels so right exactly the way it is: unknown, unknowable, unconquerable. Maybe I feel it because I've got the blood of generations of "heroes of the sea" coursing through my veins. Or maybe it's 'cause I've got, like, three planets in Scorpio in my natal chart. (Venus, Mars, and Jupiter. Dudes, when it comes to love, sex, and luck, I don't play.) (Oh, and Scorpios jones for the ocean.)
Can ye fathom the ocean, dark and deep, where the mighty waves and the grandeur sweep? ~ Fanny Crosby
A few years ago I got really into this British TV series, Doc Martin. This quirky, long-running show features a pernickety surgeon, Martin Ellingham, who discovers at the height of his brilliant medical career that he's actually a bit blood-phobic (the contrast to the titular character of the above work of fiction amuses me no end). Ellingham relocates to fictional Portwenn (in reality, Port Isaac) to practice general medicine, fall in love with feisty school teacher, Louisa Glasson, and attempt to get around this career-crushing phobia (as well as his complete social awkwardness). I adore this cozy show, folks; it's dramatic, it's funny, and the views of the ocean are stunning. You can currently watch this series (for free!) on Hulu.
But more wonderful than the lore of old men and the lore of books is the secret lore of ocean. ~ H. P. Lovecraft
Last November, I was in Orlando, FL for a work conference being held at a fancy-schmancy resort hotel. My last night there, a former co-worker (there for the same event) and I dined and gossiped together, then as we made our way back to our respective hotel rooms, he left me to my own devices in what I'll lamely refer to as the "backyard" of the hotel, which was right on the water. The hour was late and I was tired, but that didn't keep me from standing by the railing which separated the resort from the beach proper for over half an hour, under a black-clouded sky, through which a creamy white waxing moon peeked coyly now and again as I communed with the rushing waves and the pounding surf. Le sighs.
What about y'all? What sorta landscape thrills you, as the ocean does me?
