Yesterday, my family and I went and saw Raiders of the Lost Ark at our local IMAX. Neither my husband nor my kids had ever seen it on the big screen before, while I saw it the first time at a drive-in at a young age. We wanted to be able to experience it anew, and mostly, see how it's withheld the test of time.
The answer to that? Very well, thank you.
But while I've always loved Indy, it wasn't until watching it this time that I realized he just might be the most perfect hero ever. I mean, think about it. He's the ideal combination of academic and athlete, using his physical prowess in the name of archaeology and when that fails him, resorting to smarts. Better than that, he's not infallible. The fight with the huge German outside the plane doesn't bode well for Indy, because let's face it, he doesn't have the same muscle the other guy does. He gives a dirty hit when he get one in because really, it's the only shot he's got.
But what tips him over the edge in my book?
Marian.
She's not your typical ingenue. She's ballsy, can drink men under the table, and isn't afraid of throwing a punch. On top of that, she's got girl-next-door looks, so while she's certainly attractive, it's not intimidating in the slightest.
And Indy adores her. In all her annoying attitude. By halfway through the movie, his only mission is to save her.
How can you not love a guy like that?
Monday, September 10, 2012
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Six Sentence Sunday
I am back to doing SSS! When I had to go on hiatus, I'd been highlighting sentences from a short story that released two years ago, a contemporary gay erotica piece called Yesterday's Names, so I've decided I'm going to stick with that for the month of September. It's the story of Jonathan Lynch, a teacher who goes to Italy for a very special purpose. It's not as easy to face as he hoped, though, and he's gone out to a local club in hopes of some distraction.
To check out all the other six sentence contributions, head over to the official website.
He regarded me with a half-smile, wide-set brown eyes friendly and inquisitive. Soft hazel flecks in them caught the evening sun. His dark, shoulder-length hair was combed off his face, tucked behind his ears like it annoyed him rather than as a fashion statement, and the shadows of the beard making itself known for the night barely masked the adorable cleft in his square chin.
“Hello,” he said, his soft voice carrying through the dance music.
Somehow, I managed a croaked, “Hi.” Mr. Personality, that’s me.
To check out all the other six sentence contributions, head over to the official website.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
New Friends
While my writing has definitely slowed down this year, a result of both the real life stuff that I needed to focus on as well as leaving my collaboration as Jamie Craig behind, I've still had my toe in the publishing world.
See, last year, I met this guy through a friend I'd made online. He dabbled in writing, but was curious about publishers he might submit to. I compiled a list for him, and then nothing really happened for a couple months.
Then Riptide, the number one publisher I'd put on the list for him (mostly because it seemed like an excellent match in regards to what he was interested in, they hadn't had any track record at that point for me to base my judgment on except for my respect for Aleksandr Voinov as a writer), put out their collection calls for 2012. He decided to write a short in answer to one of them, I worked with him a little on editing it, and less than two weeks after he'd submitted, he had a contract offer.
That's when Elyan Smith was born. And that short story, Portside, became his very first release, a wonderfully atmospheric (not to mention hot) piece about a boy named Iwan.
I promised Elyan I wouldn't be effusive about him in this, and I won't. Read the reviews at Riptide and see for yourself what others are saying about his work.
Elyan doesn't write romance. His style is far more literary in tone, his emphasis on creating characters that could pass you on the street rather than plot. That sense of realism combines with his fresh voice to make something you're not likely to read anywhere else. Do I think he's for everybody? Absolutely not. Nobody is. But he's one of a handful of writers whose work pushes me to do better. When he's on, he's absolutely magical.
That's not being effusive. That's just how I see it.
Since his debut, he's contracted two other works, a story in the charity anthology, Lashings of Sauce, and a Christmas story in an upcoming collection at Riptide, edited by Sarah Frantz. Trust me. This won't be the last you see of him.
See, last year, I met this guy through a friend I'd made online. He dabbled in writing, but was curious about publishers he might submit to. I compiled a list for him, and then nothing really happened for a couple months.
Then Riptide, the number one publisher I'd put on the list for him (mostly because it seemed like an excellent match in regards to what he was interested in, they hadn't had any track record at that point for me to base my judgment on except for my respect for Aleksandr Voinov as a writer), put out their collection calls for 2012. He decided to write a short in answer to one of them, I worked with him a little on editing it, and less than two weeks after he'd submitted, he had a contract offer.
That's when Elyan Smith was born. And that short story, Portside, became his very first release, a wonderfully atmospheric (not to mention hot) piece about a boy named Iwan.
I promised Elyan I wouldn't be effusive about him in this, and I won't. Read the reviews at Riptide and see for yourself what others are saying about his work.
Elyan doesn't write romance. His style is far more literary in tone, his emphasis on creating characters that could pass you on the street rather than plot. That sense of realism combines with his fresh voice to make something you're not likely to read anywhere else. Do I think he's for everybody? Absolutely not. Nobody is. But he's one of a handful of writers whose work pushes me to do better. When he's on, he's absolutely magical.
That's not being effusive. That's just how I see it.
Since his debut, he's contracted two other works, a story in the charity anthology, Lashings of Sauce, and a Christmas story in an upcoming collection at Riptide, edited by Sarah Frantz. Trust me. This won't be the last you see of him.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Unpopular opinions
On Thursday, Dear Author posted an article about a high school girl's basketball coach who'd written a how-to guide for women on how to make a man love you. In it, he makes claims that have infuriated a lot of women. Many readers have weighed in on their opinion of this, and most tend to agree that he should be fired. That his misogynistic attitude is too creepy to be allowed near high school girls because he wrote the book as non-fiction, claimed workplace experience with women, and used his real name.
I have to admit, I don't agree with the popular opinion on this one. While I intensely dislike his attitude, as well as the admission of so-called real world experience (though he never cites the students specifically, that's an inference everyone is making, and honestly, how do we know he's not referring to all the female teachers he's worked with over the years), unless he's in some way inappropriate with the kids, I don't think there's fair basis to force him out of his job. To me, it wouldn't be any different than firing a female teacher who wrote erotic romance. A judgment is being made about him that may or may not be correct, and frankly, firing someone just because they're an asshole isn't right. Any one of us has worked with people we thought were awful, women who were catty bitches, men who were chauvinistic pigs. That doesn't give us the right to take away their job, just because we don't like or agree with them.
I understand that he works in a profession that demands higher standards regarding his personal life than others. Odds are good that he'll be held accountable for it. But you know, I can't agree with it if this is the sole reason used for his firing. It would make me a hypocrite since I would get equally outraged at a woman getting fired for writing erotic romance. Would I like his coaching my daughter? No. But unless his attitude is bleeding into his job performance - and nobody can say it is at this point - all I can do is make sure that I've done my role as a parent and taught her to recognize acceptable behavior and mores.
I have to admit, I don't agree with the popular opinion on this one. While I intensely dislike his attitude, as well as the admission of so-called real world experience (though he never cites the students specifically, that's an inference everyone is making, and honestly, how do we know he's not referring to all the female teachers he's worked with over the years), unless he's in some way inappropriate with the kids, I don't think there's fair basis to force him out of his job. To me, it wouldn't be any different than firing a female teacher who wrote erotic romance. A judgment is being made about him that may or may not be correct, and frankly, firing someone just because they're an asshole isn't right. Any one of us has worked with people we thought were awful, women who were catty bitches, men who were chauvinistic pigs. That doesn't give us the right to take away their job, just because we don't like or agree with them.
I understand that he works in a profession that demands higher standards regarding his personal life than others. Odds are good that he'll be held accountable for it. But you know, I can't agree with it if this is the sole reason used for his firing. It would make me a hypocrite since I would get equally outraged at a woman getting fired for writing erotic romance. Would I like his coaching my daughter? No. But unless his attitude is bleeding into his job performance - and nobody can say it is at this point - all I can do is make sure that I've done my role as a parent and taught her to recognize acceptable behavior and mores.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Exercise wins
I talked about losing weight before my hiatus, but I've attacked the entire process with new vigor ever since returning from the UK. I'm back to counting calories with LoseIt, but exercising presented a different problem.
See, it gets hot here in the summertime. Triple digits in August and September isn't unheard of. And our elliptical machine sits in the garage, which, in the throes of that kind of heat, turns into an oven.
So using the machine to burn calories? Probably not in my best interest right now.
With that in mind, I started up my membership at the gym again. It's a fifteen minute walk from my house so on top of whatever I do there, I can very easily add in a half hour of walking, too. I have plans to try yoga out - they offer a beginner's/gentle yoga course - but first on the schedule is water aerobics. It's actually pretty ideal for me. I have wonky joints, and specifically arthritis in my hip and foot (and how much do I hate that I have osteoarthritis before I'm 45, blech), so being in the water helps take the pressure of them, making it easier to stick it out for the full fifty minutes.
But I won't pretend to like it. Exercising is not my idea of a good time.
On the other hand, neither are health problems.
So...exercise wins.
See, it gets hot here in the summertime. Triple digits in August and September isn't unheard of. And our elliptical machine sits in the garage, which, in the throes of that kind of heat, turns into an oven.
So using the machine to burn calories? Probably not in my best interest right now.
With that in mind, I started up my membership at the gym again. It's a fifteen minute walk from my house so on top of whatever I do there, I can very easily add in a half hour of walking, too. I have plans to try yoga out - they offer a beginner's/gentle yoga course - but first on the schedule is water aerobics. It's actually pretty ideal for me. I have wonky joints, and specifically arthritis in my hip and foot (and how much do I hate that I have osteoarthritis before I'm 45, blech), so being in the water helps take the pressure of them, making it easier to stick it out for the full fifty minutes.
But I won't pretend to like it. Exercising is not my idea of a good time.
On the other hand, neither are health problems.
So...exercise wins.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
A Long, Sad Summer
So.
I haven't posted since May.
I haven't done much writing, either. There's a reason for that.
See, in May, I received some rather distressing news about my mother-in-law. A few years ago, Mary was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis and ended up developing pulmonary fibrosis as a result. She was doing all right, though, even managing to fly from the UK to see us in California twice a year.
She got sick in February and ended up in hospital as a result. Something kicked her pulmonary fibrosis into overdrive, and by April, she was on oxygen.
A month later, the hospital sent her home. There was nothing more they could do. My father-in-law became her full-time caretaker. Her prognosis wasn't good, because there is no way to cure or reverse pulmonary fibrosis at this time.
As soon as the kids were done with school, we flew to the UK and stayed for five weeks, knowing when we left it would likely be the last time we ever saw her.
She passed away on August 4. My life will never be the same.
It's taken us a while to get our groove back. My husband stayed in the UK to help his father and didn't get home until a week ago today. But as much as I still miss her, and as hard as it has been to get life on track, I know she would be pissed as hell at me for putting my writing on the back burner for much longer. She was one of my staunchest supporters, and I would be dishonoring her memory by giving up on something that has always brought me so much joy.
So here I am, not giving up.
The thing of it is, though, I am looking at life in new ways now. I've never lost anyone this important to me before. I've never been thrust into this position of questioning my own mortality before, or fearing the loss of everything that makes my life pretty darn amazing. While I'll be resuming writing posts like Six Sentence Sunday (starting this weekend, woo hoo!), my blog will likely be a lot more than that from now on. I've turned hugely gung ho about getting as healthy as possible, so there will be healthy eating posts and whinges about exercise.
And you know, posts about the things that make my life interesting. Fun. Sometimes infuriating.
My life. For better or worse.
For Mary.
I haven't posted since May.
I haven't done much writing, either. There's a reason for that.
See, in May, I received some rather distressing news about my mother-in-law. A few years ago, Mary was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis and ended up developing pulmonary fibrosis as a result. She was doing all right, though, even managing to fly from the UK to see us in California twice a year.
She got sick in February and ended up in hospital as a result. Something kicked her pulmonary fibrosis into overdrive, and by April, she was on oxygen.
A month later, the hospital sent her home. There was nothing more they could do. My father-in-law became her full-time caretaker. Her prognosis wasn't good, because there is no way to cure or reverse pulmonary fibrosis at this time.
As soon as the kids were done with school, we flew to the UK and stayed for five weeks, knowing when we left it would likely be the last time we ever saw her.
She passed away on August 4. My life will never be the same.
It's taken us a while to get our groove back. My husband stayed in the UK to help his father and didn't get home until a week ago today. But as much as I still miss her, and as hard as it has been to get life on track, I know she would be pissed as hell at me for putting my writing on the back burner for much longer. She was one of my staunchest supporters, and I would be dishonoring her memory by giving up on something that has always brought me so much joy.
So here I am, not giving up.
The thing of it is, though, I am looking at life in new ways now. I've never lost anyone this important to me before. I've never been thrust into this position of questioning my own mortality before, or fearing the loss of everything that makes my life pretty darn amazing. While I'll be resuming writing posts like Six Sentence Sunday (starting this weekend, woo hoo!), my blog will likely be a lot more than that from now on. I've turned hugely gung ho about getting as healthy as possible, so there will be healthy eating posts and whinges about exercise.
And you know, posts about the things that make my life interesting. Fun. Sometimes infuriating.
My life. For better or worse.
For Mary.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Six Sentence Sunday
Welcome to my SSS! For the month of May, I'm highlighting sentences from a short story that released two years ago, a contemporary gay erotica piece called Yesterday's Names. It's the story of Jonathan Lynch, a teacher who goes to Italy for a very special purpose. It's not as easy to face as he hoped, though.
To check out all the other six sentence contributions, head over to the official website.
Nothing says procrastination better than a trip to a local bar.
I can’t even say it was an arbitrary choice. I spent fifteen minutes Googling gay bars in Rome—fifteen wasted minutes, I might add, since my command on the Italian language consists mostly of tourist phrases I’d picked up to help me on my trip and not the ability to read conversational reviews posted by other desperate gay men.
All right, the desperate part of that description is probably obvious transference on my part. It’s been a stressful couple of months. I’m not feeling as nice as I usually try to be.
To check out all the other six sentence contributions, head over to the official website.
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