Project Runway Finale, Part 1

If you didn't watch Project Runway last night and don't want to be spoiled, stop reading now. I plan on talking about it.

Lalalalalalalala....

Are you gone yet? Good.

Can I just say how pissed I am?!? Believe it or not, I've enjoyed this season. It didn't have a lot of the manufactured drama of recent years, and there were more than a couple designers I really liked. I have a favorite, sure, but I genuinely like a couple of these guys. And some of the designs this year have been stunning.

I only had one hope when I started watching last night. That Dmitry would make the top three. Thanks to Tom & Lorenzo's blog, I'd seen pictures of all the collections, real and mock, that were shown, and while his didn't blow me away, he's been the one I've loved the most throughout the process. I love his drama, I love his structure, I love his tailoring.

And I'm glad his is a final collection. Really. But c'mon, did I really have to sit through ninety minutes (okay, maybe more like seventy since I watched it after it was done and fast-forwarded through all the commercials) to discover the judges were copping out and sending them all to Fashion Week?

Apparently, yes. It's starting to feel like Anya's win all over again. Remember Anya? The one the producers kept changing the rules for every time it looked like she'd be eliminated?

I have never thought Dmitry was going to win. I love him, but to me, it's seemed like their favorite has always been Christopher. Don't get me wrong, he's made some really pretty designs, but based on their mini-collections, he very much should've been the one auf'd. Two generic shorts outfits and the skirt/bustier combo? Boring. The judges knew it, too. Their pet screwed up when it was most crucial he didn't.

So...they changed it up to accommodate him staying in.

I fully expect him to win next week, and as all right as I might have been with it before, it's going to leave a bitter taste in my mouth. Because it'll feel like preferential, undeserved treatment. Unfairness to the extreme. One of my biggest hang-ups ever, because I really loathe that. I want winners to actually deserve their win.

Ha, maybe I should stop thinking about it until the show airs.

Oh, hell, I just realized I'm in Albuquerque for GRL when it's on. Thank god for Slingbox and hotel wifi, lol!

Vitamin sunlight

While part of my taking charge of my health has been eating better and exercising, another part involved getting myself checked out by a rheumatologist. Arthritis hits the women in my family hard, so I want to be prepared. I'd been having aches and pains in my joints for a few months, so it seemed like a natural step.

What the doctor discovered was that I had a severe vitamin D deficiency, something that apparently is on the rise in the US. I was put on a supplement to try and get my levels into a healthy range.

I don't know if that's happened yet. I get my blood checked again in December. But I do know that it's working. It's almost amazing how different I feel (when I'm not suffering from a cold and an ear infection, that is, lol). I'm sleeping better and less. I have more energy throughout the day. Most of my aches and pains are gone.

This week, I discovered another bonus side effect. I had a hair appointment on Tuesday, and the second I sat down in the chair, my stylist--who I've been seeing for two years now--said, "What have you been using on your hair?"

Now, I knew my hair was growing faster. I'd figured that part out on my own. But apparently, it's also getting thicker, enough so that she knew before she ever laid on a finger on me. Because I've changed nothing in my routines except for that vitamin D.

Honestly? Figuring out and addressing this deficiency has been the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. Who knew it could create such problems?

The same old fights

Yesterday, Dan Savage posted his must-read for the day, a 35-year-old episode of All in the Family called "Cousin Liz." In it, Norman Lear introduced a lesbian to the American public. It's amazing watching it now. Yes, the show can get a little preachy, but the edge and honesty it brought most of the time sets it apart from most sitcoms.

So I'm doing my part, as Dan requested. I'm spreading the word on it. Some of what Edith says just makes me tear up. And why are we still having these same fights, thirty-five years later?

One down, the next to go

So yesterday, I finally got around to feeling happy enough about my latest short novel to send it in for submission. I won't say to where for fear of jinxing it, but I'm quite pleased with how it turned out. It's a 46k gay historical romance called "A Simple Charm." I didn't mistype and forget to put in erotic. It's not, not really. There are two short scenes in the middle that yes, get graphic, but not in the sense that it qualifies with the stronger label. It's set in 1934 in rural Midwest America, and, with where the main character is in his life (as well as the setting), making it sexier just wasn't appropriate.

However...

I plan on writing a sequel to this one. It's got an HFN (my wonderful beta who reassured me it didn't suck thinks it still qualifies as an HEA), but I want to see the next step in the relationship too badly not to continue exploring. I couldn't write it all as one, either. Thematically, they're two very different stories. It just wouldn't flow.

In other writing news, I have 22k on my noir story due into Amber Allure before 12/1. I'd hoped to finish it before GRL, but I've got a busy week ahead of me and I'm not convinced I'll make it. By the time I get home, hopefully.

Six Sentence Sunday

Welcome to my SSS! For the next two months, I'm featuring my RT Award Nominee, the het paranormal/time travel-ish erotic romance, Two Lives in Waltz Time. I have a real soft spot for this one. It combines a lot of my favorite elements in romance - time travel, paranormal, snarky banter, and a lot of action. It's the story of Maddy Cardinale, an art restorer at a prestigious NYC museum, her co-worker, the irrepressible Cash Vinci, and what happens to them when Cash receives a mysterious painting. At the start of the story, Maddy has arrived for her midnight shift after getting caught in a downpour. Her best friend Ava is offering to help her out before Cash shows up.

It wasn't much—just a faded white T-shirt that said, “I'll show you my motherboard, if you show me your hard drive” and a pair of navy cut-off sweats. Maddy chewed at her lower lip as she held them up.

“No offense, but if I wear these, I'm going to look like a clown.”

Ava smiled brightly, steering Maddy so she was forced to look at her reflection again. “Yes, but you'll be a dry, non-transparent clown.”

“And suddenly I see the appeal.” 

To check out all the other six sentence contributions, head over to the official website.

The shoeman cometh

I love shoes. LOVE shoes. When I was in college, I worked for a year at a shoe store, which completely triggered my obsession ever since.

Meet my latest acquisitions. I just bought these yesterday.

Aren't they adorable? Both are suede, and they're in my two favorite colors, red and green. And one of the nicest parts about living in California is that I can wear the green ones pretty much all year round if I want.

The red ones are just plain hot. ;)

When shooting a gun just isn't enough

Plot holes. I hate 'em.

It's my own fault. I try to make things too complicated sometimes.

Okay, more than sometimes.

Last night, just as I was getting into the meat of a scene, I got stopped dead in my tracks by a question I hadn't asked myself yet about the plot. Well, not so much the question, but the answer to that question. Because that answer made much of what I was planning seem completely and utterly ridiculous. It unhinged the logic I needed to make it believable.

And if the reader doesn't believe what you're doing, you're pretty much sunk.

When my ex-writing partner and I would be plotting, she very often said something along the lines of, "Why doesn't he just shoot him?" Meaning, why was I suggesting a convoluted route to solving a problem rather than the more direct method. It's like the scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark when Indy is facing off with the sword-wielding ninja-like guy. It looks impossible to beat, until Indy pulls his gun out and shoots him.

Simple. Direct. Straight to the point.

Not my forte.

I'm actually a big fan of simple and direct when it's used effectively. But I like to think that people and situations are more complex than that. I hate the obvious. Add it all together and you get...

...a big hole in the internal logic of my current WIP.

So I took a break from it for the rest of the night to let my brain stew over how I could fix it. I'm halfway through the story, and the thought of going back to try and rework everything was almost enough to give me a panic attack. There had to be something I was missing, a different path I could from the step I was currently in the midst of.

I think I found it. I think. And I'll be at it again today with the new ideas in place.

I can guarantee, however, that I'll be advancing more carefully for the next 10k or so. I need to be sure that I've sufficiently covered the hole. I don't want to fall into another one.