Have a great weekend, everyone!
Friday, January 31, 2014
A Stunning Cover of Stairway to Heaven
To close out the week, I just have to share this stunning cover of Stairway to Heaven as performed by Ann & Nancy Wilson. John Bonham's son is on drums, too. It made me cry, but it did the same to Robert Plant and Jimmy Page.
Have a great weekend, everyone!
Have a great weekend, everyone!
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Opening from my menage WIP
I really need to come up with a title for my menage WIP. It's starting to bug me that I don't have one yet. But I thought I'd share the opening scene from it today, and give you a taste of what it's like.
The stone walls trembled, rumbling with the enraged growl of a roused beast. Beyond them, the crash of the Calisatar Sea hitting the shore echoed even louder. The whole world seemed to scream in protest to the attacks, but Avaren Rala blocked it all out. He couldn't think about the stronghold crumbling around their heads or the battles that waged outside. He had one order, and he would not fail it. Could not fail it. Ryelmund, his liege and master, would never forgive him if he did.
Nobody stopped him. He took the stairs three at a time, letting others pass by as they fled for safety without a second glance. Only once did his hand stray to his broadsword, when a barrel-chested servant tried to grab his arm, but Avaren shot him a hard stare and the man yanked back with swiftly mumbled apologies. The door he wanted, still thick and solid and mercifully shut, was at the end of the corridor. He reached it without further interruption.
The moment he pounded on the scarred wood, the latch turned and a familiar set of green eyes gazed through the opening. Relief washed through him. He hadn't known how terrified he was she wouldn't be in her chambers until this very moment. "Come, my lady." He held his hand out to her in solicitous offering. "I'm to get you to safety."
He blocked the view of any who might be in the vicinity as Loraledra pulled the door wider. Instead of the scarlet gown she'd worn at dinner when the attacks had begun, she wore soft trousers and boots, apparel from a bygone time when she hadn't yet been queen and propriety wasn't such a strict mistress. The auburn curls that were the envy of women both noble and not had been tied back in a leather strap, a heavy braid falling along her spine. Her cloak and blouse did little to hide her full, soft breasts, though at least her height might work to their advantage and fool the marauders into believing she was a man for a few moments while they made their escape. Still, her sensible clothing was only a costume. Anyone with eyes would take one look at her and know in an instant she was the renowned Queen Loraledra.
"Where's Ryel?" she asked, glancing past his shoulder.
Avaren set his jaw. "On the shore leading the fight."
But when he tried to take the satchel she'd had prepared, she refused to relinquish it. "Then you should be down there with him. Don't worry about me. I'll take care of myself."
Ryel hadn't warned she might argue, but Avaren had been prepared for the worst. "I'm sorry, my lady. I can't allow that."
Her eyes flashed. "Your liege needs your sword more than I do."
"I'm under direct orders."
"So I'm giving you a new one."
"I can't." Gripping her upper arm, he pulled her through the doorway. She fought him every inch, her muscles firm beneath his fingers, but as much as he hated having to resort to force, he couldn't allow her to squirm her way free, even if she was the queen. "Please, your majesty. If he worries about you, his mind isn't fully on the battle. Tonthery needs both her king and queen."
The furious set of her jaw didn't soften, but the guilty slide of her gaze to the tiny windows overlooking the sea gave him hope. A moment later, her stance relaxed, the death clutch he'd had on her satchel loosening. "Fine," she ground out. "But as soon as I'm somewhere secure, you're to return to him, understand?"
Avaren nodded in acquiescence. Though he wasn't certain Ryel would approve of such a compromise, it satisfied all of their needs. Ryel's to protect Loraledra. Hers to support Ryel. Avaren's to fulfill his duty to both of his lieges.
*_*_*_*
Nobody stopped him. He took the stairs three at a time, letting others pass by as they fled for safety without a second glance. Only once did his hand stray to his broadsword, when a barrel-chested servant tried to grab his arm, but Avaren shot him a hard stare and the man yanked back with swiftly mumbled apologies. The door he wanted, still thick and solid and mercifully shut, was at the end of the corridor. He reached it without further interruption.
The moment he pounded on the scarred wood, the latch turned and a familiar set of green eyes gazed through the opening. Relief washed through him. He hadn't known how terrified he was she wouldn't be in her chambers until this very moment. "Come, my lady." He held his hand out to her in solicitous offering. "I'm to get you to safety."
He blocked the view of any who might be in the vicinity as Loraledra pulled the door wider. Instead of the scarlet gown she'd worn at dinner when the attacks had begun, she wore soft trousers and boots, apparel from a bygone time when she hadn't yet been queen and propriety wasn't such a strict mistress. The auburn curls that were the envy of women both noble and not had been tied back in a leather strap, a heavy braid falling along her spine. Her cloak and blouse did little to hide her full, soft breasts, though at least her height might work to their advantage and fool the marauders into believing she was a man for a few moments while they made their escape. Still, her sensible clothing was only a costume. Anyone with eyes would take one look at her and know in an instant she was the renowned Queen Loraledra.
"Where's Ryel?" she asked, glancing past his shoulder.
Avaren set his jaw. "On the shore leading the fight."
But when he tried to take the satchel she'd had prepared, she refused to relinquish it. "Then you should be down there with him. Don't worry about me. I'll take care of myself."
Ryel hadn't warned she might argue, but Avaren had been prepared for the worst. "I'm sorry, my lady. I can't allow that."
Her eyes flashed. "Your liege needs your sword more than I do."
"I'm under direct orders."
"So I'm giving you a new one."
"I can't." Gripping her upper arm, he pulled her through the doorway. She fought him every inch, her muscles firm beneath his fingers, but as much as he hated having to resort to force, he couldn't allow her to squirm her way free, even if she was the queen. "Please, your majesty. If he worries about you, his mind isn't fully on the battle. Tonthery needs both her king and queen."
The furious set of her jaw didn't soften, but the guilty slide of her gaze to the tiny windows overlooking the sea gave him hope. A moment later, her stance relaxed, the death clutch he'd had on her satchel loosening. "Fine," she ground out. "But as soon as I'm somewhere secure, you're to return to him, understand?"
Avaren nodded in acquiescence. Though he wasn't certain Ryel would approve of such a compromise, it satisfied all of their needs. Ryel's to protect Loraledra. Hers to support Ryel. Avaren's to fulfill his duty to both of his lieges.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Writing frustrations
Some days, I really wonder why I'm a writer.
It's like any job. Good days. Bad days. But because I essentially work for myself, it's up to me to set the discipline of actually doing it. Scheduling is impossible. I have two kids, 12 and 14, with active lives. I have to do all the typical mom stuff, and because I rely on carpooling with someone who can't tell me until very shortly before a time whether or not she can do it, I have to be able to change my plans at a moment's notice.
So I give myself simple goals. One thousand words on this story. Five hundred words on a different story. Answer xxx emails. That kind of thing. Most of the time, it works for me.
But there are days - or weeks, as this has been - where even those goals elude me. Any number of factors might be the culprit. Impromptu doctor/dentist appointments. School activities that only happen every once in a while. Feeling under the weather. When this happens, it's easy to start losing track of what keeps me motivated, or losing the flavor of a story. Sometimes, it even means losing enthusiasm for the story altogether. It's up to me to find it again, because I'm my boss.
It makes me wonder why my boss self hasn't fired my writer self for being so unpredictable. :P
It's like any job. Good days. Bad days. But because I essentially work for myself, it's up to me to set the discipline of actually doing it. Scheduling is impossible. I have two kids, 12 and 14, with active lives. I have to do all the typical mom stuff, and because I rely on carpooling with someone who can't tell me until very shortly before a time whether or not she can do it, I have to be able to change my plans at a moment's notice.
So I give myself simple goals. One thousand words on this story. Five hundred words on a different story. Answer xxx emails. That kind of thing. Most of the time, it works for me.
But there are days - or weeks, as this has been - where even those goals elude me. Any number of factors might be the culprit. Impromptu doctor/dentist appointments. School activities that only happen every once in a while. Feeling under the weather. When this happens, it's easy to start losing track of what keeps me motivated, or losing the flavor of a story. Sometimes, it even means losing enthusiasm for the story altogether. It's up to me to find it again, because I'm my boss.
It makes me wonder why my boss self hasn't fired my writer self for being so unpredictable. :P
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Celebrating the female body
In two weeks, my daughter turns fourteen.
I am not ready. She is, or at least, she feels like she is, which makes her just like every other teenaged girl out there.
We've been having lots of discussions about body shapes. She and her best friend both play softball, and they both have moms who struggle with their weight. That's four different body types between us, each of us with our own styles and preferences. I lean toward boho rocker with a side of preppy thrown in, my daughter is slouchy kitsch, her BFF likes simple and slightly goth, while BFF's mom is all about comfort and ease. When we went out shopping on Sunday for a girls' day out, it was an interesting affair to say the least.
My favorite part of the whole day, however, was a comment I overheard when they were on my iPad, looking through a fashion website I subscribe to for curvier women. "Look at how beautiful she is. Why can't regular models look like real people, too?"
They have role models they look up to, but even when some of those role models might conform to an unrealistic ideal, others embrace our differences as women. I'm proud that she sees the world like that. I'm even prouder that I do what I can to promote that, which means when I do write heroines, they tend to not be a size six. These are women we need to relate to and celebrate. Especially when you're fourteen.
I am not ready. She is, or at least, she feels like she is, which makes her just like every other teenaged girl out there.
We've been having lots of discussions about body shapes. She and her best friend both play softball, and they both have moms who struggle with their weight. That's four different body types between us, each of us with our own styles and preferences. I lean toward boho rocker with a side of preppy thrown in, my daughter is slouchy kitsch, her BFF likes simple and slightly goth, while BFF's mom is all about comfort and ease. When we went out shopping on Sunday for a girls' day out, it was an interesting affair to say the least.
My favorite part of the whole day, however, was a comment I overheard when they were on my iPad, looking through a fashion website I subscribe to for curvier women. "Look at how beautiful she is. Why can't regular models look like real people, too?"
They have role models they look up to, but even when some of those role models might conform to an unrealistic ideal, others embrace our differences as women. I'm proud that she sees the world like that. I'm even prouder that I do what I can to promote that, which means when I do write heroines, they tend to not be a size six. These are women we need to relate to and celebrate. Especially when you're fourteen.
Monday, January 27, 2014
Going along for the ride with Black Sails
So who picked Black Sails as escapist entertainment this weekend? Anyone?
I had plans to watch it for a while now. I'd known the reviews were mixed - gratuitous sex and nudity, for instance - but I didn't care. So perhaps my expectations going into it were pretty low, but I kind of enjoyed it for the most part. I think the pirate intrigue is going to be fun, and the best part of the
episode for me was watching Gates trying to drum up the votes to keep
Flint as captain. Well, and comparing what I was watching to the
various ships I've toured over the years in the UK. Those things are
small below decks. Watching Tom Hopper have to stoop over every time he
was down there made me chuckle.
Hopper was surprisingly empathetic throughout the show, though I want to tell him to close his mouth half the time. Standing there slack-jawed is not always necessary. The jury is still out on some of the other actors. Toby Stephens feels a tad cerebral, though I finally bought him as a pirate captain during the final scenes. The character is insane, though, and his tirade to Billy on the boat back to the ship kind of clinched that for me. We'll see how that plays out.
As for the others, the actor who plays Vane creeps me out, I haven't completely bought Silver as a charming rogue yet, and the women are trying too hard not to be stereotypes to really make much of an impression other than that.
But I'll watch again next week. We'll see. I've stuck with worse shows for much longer before giving up.
Hopper was surprisingly empathetic throughout the show, though I want to tell him to close his mouth half the time. Standing there slack-jawed is not always necessary. The jury is still out on some of the other actors. Toby Stephens feels a tad cerebral, though I finally bought him as a pirate captain during the final scenes. The character is insane, though, and his tirade to Billy on the boat back to the ship kind of clinched that for me. We'll see how that plays out.
As for the others, the actor who plays Vane creeps me out, I haven't completely bought Silver as a charming rogue yet, and the women are trying too hard not to be stereotypes to really make much of an impression other than that.
But I'll watch again next week. We'll see. I've stuck with worse shows for much longer before giving up.
Friday, January 24, 2014
Loving Chris Pine
I have such a celebrity crush on Chris Pine. I'm not even embarrassed to admit I've loved him since Princess Diaries 2. Hey, I have a 13 y/o daughter. It was completely in her wheelhouse that we watched it a lot, lol. Bottle Shock? Yes. Kirk? Oh, my yes. Plus, he's in one of my favorite romantic comedies, This Means War. And in spite of the mixed reviews, I am totally seeing the new Jack Ryan very soon.
But color me surprised when I saw his interview on Jimmy Kimmel earlier this week and heard him sing. I knew he was doing Into the Woods, but hadn't given too much thought about his singing abilities, because hello, Chris Pine. Those eyes. That smile. So charming.
I think I love him more now. I didn't think that was possible.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Great new Twitter
You've heard about the idiot councillor in the UK who blamed all the storms they've been having on gay marriage, right?
Someone created a Twitter in response to it.
It's called UkipWeather and has such great little gems like:
Someone created a Twitter in response to it.
It's called UkipWeather and has such great little gems like:
A period of calm as a group of women go shopping for shoes. However, storm clouds will form when one of them suggests going to Millets
— UkipWeather (@UkipWeather) January 20, 2014
And this:
The sun makes a brief appearance after John Barrowman stubs his toe on the corner of a wardrobe
— UkipWeather (@UkipWeather) January 19, 2014
I love people's creativity. Especially when it's in response to such idiocy.
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