I received this earlier today from…you guessed it, a male (my hubby).

Subject: Clever, Evil Bitches

A woman and a man are involved in a car accident on a snowy, cold Monday
morning; it’s a bad one.

Both of their cars are totally demolished but amazingly neither of them
are hurt. God works in mysterious ways.

After they crawl out of their cars, the woman says, “So you’re a man.
That’s interesting. I’m a woman. Wow, just look at our cars! There’s
nothing left, but we’re unhurt. This must be a sign from God that we
should meet and be friends and live together in peace for the rest of
our days”.

Flattered, the man replies, “Oh yes, I agree with you completely, this
must be a sign from God!”

The woman continues, “And look at this, here’s another miracle. My car is
completely demolished but this bottle of wine didn’t break. Surely God
wants us to drink this wine and celebrate our good fortune.” Then she
hands the bottle to the man.

The man nods his head in agreement, opens it and drinks half the bottle
and then hands it back to the woman. The woman takes the bottle and
immediately puts the cap back on, and hands it back to the man. The man
asks,

“Aren’t you having any?”

The woman replies, “No. I think I’ll just wait for the police…. ”

MORAL OF THE STORY:

Women are clever, evil bitches.
Don’t mess with them. :wigglemoon:

Write on,
K*

:holy:
My oven caught on fire Thanksgiving eve at oh, 2:15 am. Every freaking alarm went off in the house. It was my fault. Kindof. I turned my self-cleaning oven on before I went to bed knowing I would need it Thursday. No one told me the damn oven was wired for flambe. I woke to a shrill alarm and smoke all the way upstairs. It was so thick I could barely see, the fumes so noxious my eyes stung and I was coughing. My two little dogs and cat were having trouble breathing. Now mind you hubby is gimping along on his knee he’d just had surgery on, and the two kids who were home only popped their heads out of their rooms to ascertain whether or not they were actually going to die. After I ran down stairs and turned off the oven flambe, I ran back upstairs, closed my bedroom door, and opened all of the windows keeping my pets inside my room. Then hubby and I went about opening every window and door in the house to get the smoke out. We were both coughing and those damned alarms would not go off, even after we pushed in the buttons. So, gimp went into the garage and got the big ladder. We argued over who would carry it upstairs and climb it, Mister Macho won. Nevermind he shouldn’t be carrying a heavy ladder with his knee all stitched up or climbing up and down the damn thing. So, I did what any good wife would do, I spotted him. I hesitated to ask my oldest son as he was in a cast for a broken leg, and being much taller than his father, I could just see him toppling over as his cast got caught in a rung. So, super hubby dismantled the alarms, and stayed up ’til 4:30 waiting for the to smoke dissipate so he could lock up the house and go to bed. My two dogs were having trouble breathing so I sat next to the window with them while they breathed in fresh air. I froze my ass off in the process.
When I woke the next am, the house stunk like burnt self-cleaning oven and smoke. We aired the house again, I cleaned the oven by hand, vacuumed the carpets with baking soda sprayed the Fabreez, and simmered cloves in water. By the time the turkey was ready to go on the table you never would have known the night before could have been our last. Had not the smoke detectors gone off, we would have continued to sleep in the toxic smoke and most likely not have woken up. So, make sure your smoke alarms have fresh batteries, and scrape the gooey black crap off the bottom of your self-cleaning oven before it ignites into a towering inferno and burns you and your family up.
Now, ma’ dears, I am off to write.
Write on,
K*

I just bought my turkey. A 20 pounder. I hope the Butterball is thawed by Thursday. Can someone say procrastinate? Ha! I still have all of the trimmings to buy. I’m wondering if I can bribe my daughter. I don’t mind the cooking part, it’s the shopping part, the getting the house ready part, the pressure part, the I have to clean up the freakin mess after everyone is gone part, the hardest is the I want to write not entertain part. The holidays do it to me every year. I’m Grinch and my husband is freakin Saint Nick! I want to spend Christmas morning catching up on my sleep, he wants to be downstairs at the crack of dawn with the kids (it’s not like they are babies anymore 15,19,22,& 25), the dogs and the cat unwrapping the gazillion presents he insisted I buy so he had something to open Christmas morning. Argh, someone just pour me a cup of coffee and let me wake up–slowly. And he wants to take pictures? Paleese.
Ay yi yi yi, I just gave myself a headache thinking about it all.
Write on, and if I don’t chat with y’all before, have a great Thanksgiving. Enjoy the precious time with your family, in spite of all of the carziness, I know I will.

K*

“I am a marvelous housekeeper. Every time I leave a man I keep his house.” - Zsa Zsa Gabor.

Be careful ladies what you ask for, you just may get it. See below:

A gentleman asked a waiter to take a bottle of Merlot to an attractive woman.
The waiter took the Merlot to the woman and said, “This is from the gentleman seated over there,” indicating the sender.
She regarded the wine coolly for a second, not looking at the man, and decided to send a reply note to the man. The waiter, who was lingering for a response, took the note from her and conveyed it to the gentleman.
The note read:
“For me to accept this bottle, you need to have a Mercedes in your garage, a million dollars in the bank, and 7 inches in your pants.”
After reading the note, the man decided to compose one of his own in return. He folded the note, handed it to the waiter and instructed him to return this to the woman.
It read:
“For your information, I have a Ferrari Maranello, a BMW Z8, a Mercedes CL600 and a Porsche Turbo in my garage. There is over twenty million dollars in my bank account. But, not even for a woman as beautiful as you, would I cut three inches off. Just send the bottle back.” :shit:

Write on.

K*

According to the World Health Organization, there are approximately 100 million acts of sexual intercourse each day. wow, that’s a lot of hum….

Ok so it’s been one of those weird quiet/busy/where has the week gone? weeks. I did my first ever workshop on Lori Devoti’s plot spot loop. It went OK, I have some wrinkles to smooth out, but I think a few people may have actually gotten something they could use out of it, so that’s a good thing. I had a really good conversation with my agent Kim yesterday. She rocks and I’m so glad to have her on my side. I also submitted a blurb to Hilary for my next novella for the Aphrodisia line. Keeping fingers crossed she loves it. Hubby had arthoscopic surgery yesterday and is doing quite well. I also had a chat with the romance expert, Judy, at my local Barnes & Noble today regarding a signing in February. Myself, NAL and Aphrodisia author Renee Luke along with Brava author Sylvia Day are doing a whirlwind 3 day book signing tour the weekend of Feb 10-12. We plan on hitting the Bay Area hard. I’ll post the stores, dates and times when we get that all nailed down.

Tomorrow I am gutting my office. It’s time–agian. I’m feeling claustrophobic and I can’t concentrate on writing when things are growing around me that should be in a petrii dish, not on my desk or inside of my coffee cup. So tomorrow, clean office.
Lot’s of good things are happening for people I know. My friend Rae Monet is getting incredible interest in her BLOOD SQUAD story, it is by far her best work to date, oh, check out her Blood Squad site. I love this! I want one. And I’m getting one, Justin and I are going to be verking very closely in zee near future. I have an exciting idea for my own series, and can’t wait to launch the site. My CP Edie is getting some big send-me-the-full-now! requests from some top notch agents on her book DEAD PEOPLE. I love it. Edie your humor rocks!
Ok, so that’s my week in a nutshell, I could go into long borign details, but do you really want to hear all of that? Didn’t think so.

I am going to go on a rant though, probably Sunday about the upcoming holidays. Grinch is my middle name.
Write on!

K*

I have it in my hot little hands! :cheerleader:It’s green and smooth and hard! It’s my book THE HARD STUFF! :party:
I’ve read Sunny and Bonnie’s novellas (the other two stories in the antho) and am proud to be in such wonderful writing company. I also received THREE by Noelle Mack, and GOTTA HAVE IT by Renee Alexis. Wow, both are page singeing hot.
I can’t wait for my book to hit the shelves. I hope you all buy it and enjoy it!
OK back to my Plarty workshop.:whip:
Ciao, write on, and have a fabulous evening!

K*

But first this tidbit.
“For flavor, instant sex will never supercede the stuff you have to peel and cook.” Quentin Crisp

OK, so about the plarty (Plot+Party=Plarty). I’m giving my first ever workshop next week on Lori Devoti’s plotting loop. Plotting loop you say? But Karin, you are a confirmed pantser, what got into you? Um, deadlines, organization, the reality of knowing manic bouts at the keyboard are not conusive to my 45 pages a week production goal. Hey, I need to know where the hell I’m going. So, with the help of Shelly Bates who introed me to her plotting method (along with a few tweaks of my own), I have skulked over to the dark side. I plot. BUT! I leave lots and lots of room for my characters to change the course I have chartered for them.
So, go to Lori’s site and sign up for her plotting loop. I think we’re gonna have some fun.
Oh, see below for the blurb.
Let’s Plarty

A funny thing happened to this pantser after she sold. She couldn’t write. She was frozen, stumped, migraines became a daily visitor. She choked.
For all of the years I strived for publication, I wrote regularly, but on my terms. I began a story with a germ of an idea, my characters fairly fleshed out and a few good scenes burning to be written. Usually, I began my story in the wrong place and by the sagging middle, I could, without pressure, mull my way to The End. This method usually required heavy rewriting. My stories generally meandered and well, while there were some really good scenes, these stories usually needed to be cut by 20-30 K words. Writing 20-30 K words in my life now equals time, my very valuable writing time, time I don’t have to waste on one single word, much less thousands.
I learned quickly that deadlines don’t bode well for casual mulling. Deadlines don’t bode well for beginning your story in the wrong place with leisure time to dabble, tweak and rewrite multiple times. Rewrites that ultimately dilute your story.
After weeks of staring blankly at my computer screen, and the beginnings of an ulcer due to massive does of aspirin, I knew what I had to do. Plot. (J I don’t cringe when I type it or say it out loud anymore.) Plotting does not come naturally to this pantser, but thanks to Shelley Bates, I discovered the kewlest thing.
A plotting party. Here’s what you’ll need.
A day with no outside interferences, a couple of really smart writer minds, a few specific office supplies, munchies, and most of all: enthusiasm coupled with the will to plot the next NY Times best seller!
Stick around and find out how to utilize this sure fire plan of not only plotting your story, but developing your characters GMC’s along the way.

Write on,
K*

“The Love Bird is 100% faithful to his mate, as long as they are locked together in the same cage.” Will Cuppy.

…and exhausted. I have so much I need to jump on and the thought is overwhelming. So, I’ve begun a list of lists. My priority should be working hard on the book I’ve promised to turn in in Feb. But I have other obligations. When I make a commitment, I must see it through or I feel like not only have I let the person who I committed to down, but myself as well. I’m not a flake and could not live with that character flaw. So, I have two answers now for every request. It’s a simple yes or no. I had to turn down judging a contest I’ve judged for 3 straight years. I felt horrible saying no. But if I agreed, I’d ultimately let someone else down, least of myself. I need to write, and saying yes isn’t conducive to me getting my daily page count down.
So, with this blog post and making a few comments on the Murder She Writes blog, I need to keep my ass in the chair, do some long over due critting, put together a lesson plan for a workshop I’m doing next week (for Lori Devoti’s plotting loop, more info on that tomorrow) and somewhere I have to squeeze in writing Reese and Francesca’s story.
So much for vacations. Playing catch up sucks the big one.
Write on and I’ll chat with y’all tomorrow.

K*

Just popping in real quick while my wireless is letting me.
Having a great trip.
The best part is I heard from my agent today, she loves GGGB. :cheerleader: She had a couple of issues but they are easily fixable, and I agree with her 100%. :cooldance:
OK, gotta scoot out for dinner.
Write on.

K*