Words, wOrds, WoRDS...

It's time for round two of a little game I like to call Words, wOrds, WoRDS (because it's a word-association-type game and I'm clever like that).

"How does one play?" you may ask.

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.

Are you ready?

Today's random word is...

PEA

To learn what came to my mind, select the darkened text between the asterisks.

***

I thought of that fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen, The Princess and the Pea, possibly because I traveled for my day job this weekend and spent a restless night tossing and turning and could really use a good night's rest. Also, I wouldn't mind being claimed and set up for a life of luxury by a foxy and charming prince. I mean, I'd be willing to give it a shot, is all I'm sayin'.

***

Go on, then. Reveal unto the world what that word inspired in your little gray cells.

If you dare...

Summer Promos ~ When to Promo Them?

Since January, I've had a small rotating ad up on the Smart Bitches, Trashy Books Web site which, I believe, has definitely helped with book sales for That Fatal Kiss. I'm a bit worried that when April comes and the ad goes, so too will sales. Pondering these things made me think about doing a summer promotion, and offering the TFK e-book at a reduced rate at all online retailers where it's sold. The question is: when? Is May too soon to connect with readers interested in filling up their Kindles, Nooks, and iPads for all their vacation travel needs? Is June too late? And for how long should I run it: a week, two weeks, three, a month? Writers, what do y'all think?

Readers, when do you buy your summer reading stuffs? Do you do it in one fell swoop, or do you pick things up as they arise in your line of sight (which is what I do, unless a fave author's got something coming out, in which case I shop with intent)?

All y'all: please tell me in the comments!

Color Me Blue...

Color Me Blue

by Mina Lobo

I feast but never fill up,

I bleed myself for love,

I tire of fruitless praying

for blessings from above.

So I don’t want to party,

and I don’t want to fight.

I don’t want to sing and

I don’t want to write.

No…

Harried Haiku

Work's crazy this week

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen-hour

days! No time to blog.

:-(

Once a year, from the tail end of February through the first week of March, my day job hosts events that require me to work stupidly long hours. Yesterday was a fifteen-hour day, and that was only the beginning! So I'm taking a brief hiatus from blogging, this Monday and next, probably.

Meanwhile, because I love quizzes (even though I sometimes mock them), here's a link to a fun one: Personal DNA, Your True Self Revealed. My results for this quiz are on the lower left-hand corner of this page—I'm an Advocating Visionary! What are you???

A Saint I Ain't...

St Andrew fresco (Kintsvisi, Georgia)

...but according to this quiz, I'm like Saint Andrew, patron saint of a country I ache to visit (Scotland), of my parents' village in Portugal, and ALSO of singers, sore throats, happy marriages, AND spinsters!

(How all those fit in with one another, I've no idea, but I'm a singer-who-wants-to-get-back-to-singing, I've been experiencing sore throats and, as things stand, I'm riding hell for leather down Spinster Road, so it does all rather seem to fit me.)

I luuuuurve taking quizzes, it's so fascinating to learn what these arbitrary responses on my part reveal about me and the inner workings of my psyche, according to some stranger whose credentials, if any, are shrouded in mystery.

:-)

Anyway, it occurs to me that, if I were to be a patron saint of stuff, it'd probably be:

• Ex-smokers and/or folks trying to quit.
• Mothers of teenagers who think they're smarter than their moms (so, like, every teenager ever).
• Lovers of Duran Duran, Depeche Mode, and Blondie.
• Folks who chuckle/snort over a solid pun.
• Peeps who obsess over other peeps to the point that they can't focus on the things they need to be doing with their lives and seem to require repeated boots to their bottoms to aid them in getting their respective (and collective, if applicable) shit together.

Or similar.

How about y'all: of what would YOU be a patron saint???

Snow tired...

...of all this motherfucking snow. For reals...

...I mean, I dig winter, and I sure as shit prefer it to NY summer, with its 90-plus temps and 90-plus humidity, day after day after day after...

What love is...

By Durdana shoshe (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0
(http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)],
via Wikimedia Commons

In a previous post, I bitched about how ruinous loving is. And it is.

But that's not all it is.

In my late 30s, I began to draw parallels between romantic and paternal love. Not in an Oedipus/Electra kinda way, 'cause that's gross. The love my parents (who are not perfect people) show me and my sis, and even more, the love I feel for my son, is straightforward and manifests in obvious ways: