The Vacuum Cleaner from Another Dimension

Wow, I should do blogfests more often! Welcome, newcomers, to the craziness that is me!

Thought I would give you an update on what's been going on with me (and, yes, vacuum cleaners will be involved). My fiance and I are currently living with my parents. Yay. I just found out that the house we're supposed to be moving into will not be ready for another week (surprise, surprise!), so, if I'm lucky, I will be moving into the new place the weekend before my wedding.

::Cue hysterical laughter::

We will also have to buy a refrigerator for the new place. So much for trying to crawl my way out of debt.

But, some good news! I am going to have a short story published! And I will get paid for it! Yay! It will be in an ebook and possibly even a print edition. We shall see. I'll keep you updated as soon as I know more.

Last night Fiance and I spent the majority of our time cleaning the old house for the new renters (because we're nice like that). I changed from my work clothes into some grubby clothes and put my engagement ring and watch in my dress pants pocket. (Do you see where this is going?)

While I'm shampooing the carpet in the master bedroom, Fiance is vacuuming the living room. He picks up my work clothes (do you see where this is going?) and my ring and watch fall out. He vacuums up my ring.

Yep.

No big deal, right? After all, there are only so many places something vacuumed up can go, right?

So I didn't panic. I sort of laughed and was like, "Well, you did it so you get it out, Fiance," and continued shampooing carpets.

Thirty minutes and a shredded vacuum cleaner bag later, still no ring.

!!!

I start getting a little panicky. Maybe it's stuck in the filter, hose, brush, etc. Fiance doesn't hear it rattling around, but I insist that maybe its lodged in there somehow.

We proceed to destroy the vacuum cleaner. We smash and break. We tear the thing to pieces.

Still no ring.

We get out the metal detector and go through the contents of the vacuum's bag carpet bunny by carpet bunny. I suggest we set it all on fire. Fiance barely manages to talk me out of it.

We check the entire living room floor, under the porch, between the cracks in the steps, in the grass. We find a washer and a tent stake, but no ring.

I'm hysterical at this point. WTF? What happened? Did the vacuum cleaner transport the ring to another dimension? This, really, sounds like the only logical conclusion.

At this point, we have spent almost an hour and a half looking for this ring.

I'm in tears. Fiance is trying to console me with "It has insurance, we can replace it. It's just a ring."

"It's not just a ring!" I wail. "It's my ENGAGEMENT ring!"

(Gentlemen, there is no reasoning with a hysterical woman who just lost her engagement ring.)

It's 9:30 p.m. The neighbors think we're crazy because not only have we borrowed their metal detector, but now we need to borrow their vacuum cleaner. (We neglected to tell them what EXACTLY happened to ours.) We finish cleaning to the harmony of my sniffles.

We get to my parent's house at approximately 10 p.m. I unleash my cat and he immediately gets into a fight with my mom's cat. We have to separate them. Mom tells us that my chihuahua might be having puppies. I contemplate calling into work and taking a mental health day.

But I don't.

I get up. Drive to Lincoln. Drop off boots for my bridesmaid to wear to her fitting. Drop off Jake (he promises to look for my ring while he waits for the tow truck to haul his old car to the new place) and head to work.

Halfway there he calls to tell me that the tow truck people didn't show up. And then he says, "Oh, by the way, will you marry me?"

"You found it!"

"Yep."

"Where was it?"

"In the lining of the vacuum cleaner's bag." We searched that, like, six times and never saw anything. I swear.

"So we killed the vacuum cleaner for nothing."

"Looks like it."

Sigh. Wake me up when September ends.

One Hundred Years: Fairytale Blogfest Entry

In lieu of Monday Madness, I'm posting my entry into Emily White's Fairytale Blogfest . The prizes are divine and, even if I don't win, I enjoyed morphing a traditional fairytale into a different genre. Nice stretch of the writerly muscles, if you will. And, hopefully, it will provide you guys with some entertainment. ;) Also, it's flash fiction, which is a challenge in and of itself. Enjoy!

--------------------------------------------------------------------

"Sleeping Beauty"

Sleep for one hundred years. Wake up in a new world.

The idea had appealed to me. But I’d been attracted to the fine print far more: When you wake up, you might not know who you are.

“An unfortunate side-effect,” the sloe-eyed scientist said, her red mouth curving. “But compared to losing a limb, what’s a little memory loss?”

“Where do I sign?” I asked.

I was twenty-five, far too young to want to forget who—and what—I was. Years of therapy hadn’t taught me how to accept the past however and, no matter how hard I tried to put it behind me, it kept poisoning my future. It would be easier to forget.

I readied the small cylindrical container that was to hold my personal items; everything I placed inside was impersonal. A comb. A bedroll. A spare uniform. A laser pistol. Nothing that said, “This is Aurora King.”

“If it isn’t Sleeping Beauty.”

I turned. Mac sauntered toward me. He too had signed up for the mission, but his reasons were all monetary. Though, if asked, he probably would have claimed otherwise.

Even in the spaceship’s harsh fluorescent lighting, Mac was beautiful—six feet of muscle and ego—and another thing I hoped to forget.

He propped an elbow against my sleeper capsule and crossed his ankles, flashing a grin. “So, Rory, want me to wake you with a kiss when we reach Epsilon 12?”

A number of hostile responses rose to my lips, but I choked them down. Shaking my head, I forced a smile. “Sure, Mac. If you remember.”

“Oh, I’ll remember.” He slid a hand down my cheek. “I’d never forget you.”

“Pretty words for a bastard,” I said lightly, pulling away.

His mouth thinned. “I told you that she came on to me, Rory. Nothing happened. You said you forgave me, so why are you still holding a grudge?”

“Forgiveness doesn’t equal forgetfulness.” I raised my chin. “And once a cheater, always a cheater.”

“For God’s sake—“

“All right, crew,” Commander Roberts yelled. “Get into your sleepers. Five minutes to launch!” Grateful for the interruption, I sealed my canister and locked it into the sleeper.

“Maybe you will forget. I hope you do.” He gave a sad smile and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “See you in a hundred years, babe.”

My stomach twisted as I watched him walk away.  He stretched out in his sleeper capsule and technicians began attaching various wires to his torso and arms. A blend of chemical compounds gurgled at the sleeper’s foot—the magical mixture that would freeze his limbs and organs for one hundred years while we traveled through space to Epsilon 12, the promise land. Mac noticed me watching and his lips puckered. A lump formed in my throat and I looked away.

“Bed time,” Commander Roberts said.

I nodded, sliding onto the cold metal. Technicians swarmed me. A needle pricked my skin. I fell asleep praying I’d forget, but I was no longer sure what.

Hyper-sleep shrinks years to seconds and, all too soon, I felt lips on mine. My eyes flew open, my knee jerked up, and someone cursed.

“Jesus, Rory! You nearly castrated me!”

I blinked up at the domed, metal ceiling. The lights flickered and buzzed. Dust furred every surface.  One hundred years. I closed my eyes. Did I remember?

Dark room. Hands touching. Cold skin. Goosebumps. Dolls. Doctors offering peach, plastic parts. Where did Daddy touch you?

I ripped off the IVs, the plastic suction cups attached to my chest, the multi-colored tubing. The sleeper’s sensors screamed a warning. I hung my head over the side and vomited the black bile of my stomach.

When my stomach was empty, I still heaved. Distantly, I felt a hand on my back, rubbing. I tried to shift away, but the hand gripped my shoulder. “Easy, Aurora. Easy.”

I looked out of the corner of my eye. A tall, handsome man stood there. He was vaguely familiar, especially the sultry curve of his mouth, but I couldn’t place him.

“Who…who are you?” I rasped.

He paused. His brown eyes darkened. He opened his mouth. Shook his head. He glanced down at the ring on the hand that gripped my shoulder and then at my own hand. A gold band glimmered on the ring finger of my left hand.

“Don’t you remember, Rory?” he asked.

Too much, I wanted to say. I shook my head instead.

“I’m your husband.”

I searched his face. Uncertainty etched fine lines around his mouth—I remembered that expression. I touched his face and bit my lip.

“I remember…”

His hand gripped mine. “What, Rory? What do you remember?”

Our wedding day. Nights of kissing and touching. Days of laughter and teasing. My fingers traced his jaw, his unsmiling lips. I kept thinking there was something else, something more, flitting on the edges of my memory like an elusive fairy godmother.

Mac’s fingers squeezed mine, and it no longer mattered.

“I remember loving you,” I said.

He smiled and lowered his mouth to mine. “Sleeping Beauty,” he murmured against my lips.

His kiss deepened.

And I forgot everything else.

Mockingjay!!

Ready for my review on Mockingjay?

Too bad.

Lol.

I have finished the series, now. And, yes, I loved them. Yes, I want to rave and rave and gush and gush, but I won't. Why? Because I don't really want to spoil them for you. Let's just say that Ms. Collins lived up to the expectations set forth in The Hunger Games. The last book was...amazing. Truly. GO READ IT NOW. (It also made me cry...::sniffle::)

As for how my life is going. Ha. Ha. I'm not sure if I bent your ear on my current living situation or not, but here it goes. We are supposed to be moving into this house on a farm. Great deal. Me? I wasn't thrilled about moving before the wedding because I'm already crazy with that, so I didn't really need any more stress. BUT they just HAVE to have someone move in ASAP because there is a lot of expensive equipment on said property that needs to be watched. They wanted us to move in Sept. 1 or sooner.

All right. Since it is such a great deal, I agreed even though I knew it would make me almost unbearable to be around. And for the most part I have kept my cool. People have remarked on how calm I am and all that... I just laugh because THEY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT'S GOING ON IN MY HEAD.

Because, at this moment, the house is not ready to be moved into. And the house I currently live in has to be vacated BY Sept. 1 so the new renters can move in. Sept. 1 is this upcoming Wednesday.

You see my dilemma.

I'm so high-strung that I can't have sugar or caffeine because it's making me shake. (Which is really depressing since I live off of sugar and caffeine.) The wedding is three weeks away and I'm horrified at the thought that I might be living with my parents. :P

We're moving this weekend (even if we don't know where). And that's the scary part...I have no idea where the heck I will be on Monday. I will probably show up to work being all crazy-eyed and spend most of the day in my chair rocking back and forth.

Newsroom Headline: Bride-to-be Loses Sanity, Fiance Nowhere to Be Found (Because he will run away)

I Stole This Truck...Uh, I mean "Photo"

I like to do things backwards, apparently. I read Lydia Sharp's post on 15 inspirations and was like, hmm, what are my inspirations for Dragon Queen? I came up with five. Three songs and two images.


1. Linkin Park's NEW DIVIDE



2. Kelly Clarkson's BEAUTIFUL DISASTER



3. Disturbed's THE NIGHT



4.

5.

And that just wasn't enough. I wanted to come up with 15 inspirations (even if they're after the fact). So I whip out my handy-dandy Google and start searching for random things.

Using the search "red princess" I found this...

http://anathematixs.deviantart.com/

First reaction: OMG!!!

Second reaction: ZOMG!!!

This is EXACTLY how I pictured my MC, Jade. This artist (Suzanne van Pelt) totally shares my brain waves. I mean, holy cow!!! Craziness. I couldn't even draw Jade this well. (And I tried.) This artist is, seriously, my new best friend. 

So, even though I was cheating on my inspirations, I'm glad I found this photo. It's totally my new inspiration. 

Have you ever stumbled upon a picture/photo that fit your MC perfectly? Please share!

Monday Madness: Why Stephenie Meyers May Be a Genius

I waffle between admiring Twilight and what it has accomplished in the YA world and really, really despising it.

The young love angst is something every young girl can relate to. (I once had the most painful crush on a guy for three days before I knocked some sense into myself.) Twilight also expounds on the theme of being loved and protected in the face of trials/evil. When you're 16, I could see the appeal. But then there are articles like this and this, and I can't help but pull my hair out and/or snicker.

And yet...

Ms. Meyers was on to something. The Oatmeal slams Bella for being a "lego character". He points out that we never get a clear picture of what Bella looks like and that, in fact, anyone can slip into her skin and pretend to be her. He thinks it's a bad thing, and I can see his point. But I also think it makes Ms. Meyer's a genius.

In a world of RPGing, internet dating and the like, everyone is trying to be someone else. Ms. Meyer's just caught on to that and used it in a different venue.

From a writer's standpoint, it makes me cringe. A story isn't supposed to be about someone who has so little personality it could be anyone, it's supposed to be about a specific character with specific wants, dreams and goals. And yet, from a money-making standpoint all I see is dollar signs. $$$$

Let's admit it, there's a reason why Twilight is so popular. And I think it's Bella's very vagueness that makes all the girls squee, OMG, that could totally be me!

So, Twilight... Love it. Hate it. Either way, Ms. Meyers might have opened the door onto a completely new way of shaping a character.

But the question is: Was it intentional?

(What do you think?)

It Will All Be Over Soon

One of my coworkers came up to me this morning and asked that simple question, "How are you?" 

My reply? "Ask me after September 18th."

Because right now I'm so overwhelmed and stressed out that just THINKING about how overwhelmed and stressed out I am makes everything worse. So I'm living on a moment-by-moment basis. And when I'm not running around like a chicken with my head cut off (nice simile, eh?) then I'm having to distract myself with mind-absorbing things.

So I bought Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins yesterday. No, I couldn't really afford it (hardback), but I bought it simply as a way to preserve my sanity. (At least that's what I'm telling myself.) 

I also keep telling myself that next week will better. And the week after that. And the week after that. Before I know it, it will be September 18th, I will be married and I will no longer have to even THINK about all the crap I need to do for the wedding. And, yes, I am so freaking glad that Fiance and I are going to Spa City (that's Hot Springs for you non-Arkies) for our honeymoon. Mineral baths? Oh yes. Massages? Thank you, God. Jacuzzi in the room... :D

And after it's all said and done, I will be so blissfully happy. Because it's over with and, dear Lord, I will NEVER have to do this again. 

So, for all you married folks out there, do you have any pointers on how to keep your pre-wedding sanity? (Not the jitters, I'm not worried about the actual marrying part.) Because I need some help!

Book Review: The Hunger Games

I recently finished reading The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. The fact that I actually had time to read a book when my world is one big crazyfest is beyond remarkable. But The Hunger Games is one of those books that demands to be read. You have to make time for it. There's simply no other option.

The book opens with our MC's POV. First person. (It's the way to go nowadays.) If I hadn't read the back cover I might have thought the MC was male just because, well, Katniss has a very blunt, no-nonsense and often brutal way of looking at the world. She almost lost me when she talked about trying to drown a cat. (I'm not kidding.) But in the same time her actions repulsed me, her reasons enthralled me. And I immediately knew this was one hard-ass chick.

Except she's not nearly as hard as she pretends to be.

What Katniss is, really, is refreshing. With so many Bella prototypes flouncing around out there, it's nice to have a girl on the opposite end of the spectrum. Katniss has no time for boys, immortal or otherwise; she's too hell-bent on trying to survive. Except then her sister gets chosen for the Hunger Games--a battle to the death between 24 contestants ranging from 12 to 18 years old--and Katniss volunteers to take her place.

Blood, gore, sullenness, skirmishes and revelations of personality ensue. I admit that I didn't really get to the OMG-I-must-continue-reading-this-even-though-it's-3 a.m.-and-I-have-to-go-to-work-in-four-hours point until Katniss was in the actual Hunger Games. But the buildup wasn't boring and it was totally necessary to get the correct impression on what the Hunger Games is all about. But then things just flew. It was an adrenaline rush. I was flipping pages as fast as I could read them, thinking, Wow, this would make an awesome movie. (Rumor is the movie is going to come out in 2011. I'm crossing my fingers that it's as awesome as the book... though we all know it never is.)

But the thing I loved the most about Suzanne Collins' work was that Katniss' core personality stayed the same. Everything is about survival to her, even pretending to be in love (but is it really pretend)? AND THERE'S MORE! The book leaves off with the question: Is Katniss really pretending to be in love with Peeta (and what, exactly, are her feelings for Gale?) or does she actually care for him but refuses to admit it? And what's going to happen to her now?

I REALLY want to get the second book (and the third and final one comes out the 24th of this month! Squee!) But it will have to wait until next paycheck. :(

Recommended read? Yes!

Rating: 4.99 out of 5 stars (just because Katniss tried to kill a kitty, and I can't condone that, even if the kitty is ugly and would just be another mouth to feed.)


Disclaimer: I was not paid to review this book and I bought this book with my own limited funds, thank you very much.

Monday Madness: Make Nay-sayers Walk the Plank

No matter what goals we're pursuing, there's always someone whispering behind your back (or telling you to your face) that you can't do it. Even if you're not close to these people, you might start to doubt. And if the nay-sayer is someone whom you deal with on a day-to-day basis (maybe they are even your significant other, your parent, your sibling, your best friend OR, even worse, yourself) then it's even more difficult to ignore them. So here are a few tips to make your nay-sayer walk the plank:

1. When you start thinking, "I can't" tell yourself, "I can." Look at yourself in the mirror and say, "I can do this. I will keep trying. I will strive harder. I will not give in."

2. Distract yourself. This especially works when the nay-saying is coming from yourself. If the negativity involves a certain project, go do something else that completely absorbs you. Read. Go for a run. Hang out with friends. Surf the internet for bad jokes.

3. Remind yourself that anything worth having is worth fighting for. As Stephan Dolley Jr. says, "A man who wants something will find a way; a man who doesn't will find an excuse."

4. When I'm surrounded by negative people, I start thinking negatively. One of the things to do is to remove yourself from these people (at least for a while) or, if that's not possible, then tell them straight out (and I've done this before), "Let's see if we can go a whole 30 minutes without saying something negative."

5. Surround yourself with positive influences. I, personally, love motivational quotes. I have them tacked all around my desk and doodled in my sketch book. It's amazing how powerful these things can be.

So what about you? How do you drown out the nay-saying?

The Greatest Love Story of All Time

Warning: Jaded alert!!!

It's the greatest love story of all time.

Nope, I'm not talking about Twilight. (Not yet, anyway.) I'm talking about Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. You know, in modern day publishing presses, R&J could be considered a YA in some aspects. After all, the main characters are 13-14. (I hope you knew that.) It's got all the angst and OMG-no-one-understands-us element. As well as the idea that LOVE is the most important thing in the entire universe. So, important, in fact, that it's worth stabbing yourself in the chest over.

I watched the modern day remake of Romeo and Juliet with Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes last night with my fiance. Back in the days of my youth (as in, high school) it was one of my favorite movies. (OMG, so romantic, right?) Last night it just pissed me off to the point where I turned to Fiance and said, "If you kill yourself because I die, I will go to hell and kick your A$$!" To which he replied with something very sweet and mollifying, "Darling, if you died I wouldn't kill myself, but I would feel pretty damn dead inside." (Romance as only a country boy can provide. P.S. I love it when he calls me darling.) Aw. Kissy kiss.

Now, I love romance as much as the next gal (devouring books by Teresa Medeiros like it's nobody's business), but it comes to a certain point where romance morphs into obsession/insanity. And I just can't tolerate that. True love exists. Soul mates exist. But true love isn't about sacrificing everything (including your life... hello, R&J; hello, Bella) for it to work. It's about compromise. It's above give and take. And, to top it off, it's about realistic expectations of yourself and the other person. So, really, the whole reason R&J ticks me off is because everything could be avoided by approaching love with maturity. Talking to the 'rents, for one. Juliet could have just let her father disown her and cast her into the streets like he threatened instead of devising this whole "fake death plan." (Which, really, would the end have been any different? She would have never spoken to her parents again.) I'm sure Romeo would haven't just left her begging on the streets, for crying out loud. And was it love or obsession that drove them to commit suicide? Romeo at the beginning of the play/movie was "in love" with Rosalind. And then he sees Juliet and BAM! Love at first sight! I don't think it was his heart that was reacting to Juliet, but another "part belonging to a man."

R&J and, yes, Twilight, give teens an unrealistic expectation of love. And sometimes I wonder if crap like this is the reason 50% of marriages fail nowadays. The moment one or the other starts thinking, OMG they totally wouldn't kill themselves/turn into a vampire for me, it's over. Love can be crazy and it can be thrilling, but lasting love isn't about the adrenaline rush of forsaking everything else for another person; it's about knowing that there will be times when you will be mad at each other, when you will wish that other person wasn't breathing down your neck all the time, when you get sick of their annoying habits...and you wouldn't want it any other way.

My prediction: If R & J hadn't done themselves in, they would have been divorced within a year. And Bella and Edward? It's going to be one freakin' long eternity (not in a good way).

So Much To Do...So Little Time

So, how's everyone's week been so far? Good, yes? Great? That's fantastic! Me, I've been super busy.

You know how some people thrive on drama? Apparently I thrive on having too many things to do in a single moment. And yet I still suffer from boredom. Strange.

Right now I'm trying to find a renter for the house I'm currently living in, finalize a date to move into the new place, make centerpieces, work out, cook, preserve food, read The Hunger Games, edit my short story, edit Dragon Queen, clean house, write a short story of Emily's Fairy Tale Blogfest , write a short story for the Sci-Fi/Fantasy forum's short story contest, send out the rest of the wedding invitations, schedule dress alterations, buy wedding shoes, pick up dress, etc. I've actually written one for the fairy tale story, but I'm not super happy with it, yet.

On the top of my writing list is editing the short story. If the editor of the online magazine I submitted it to likes the changes, it could be published. Yay! My first publication! This is followed closely by writing stories for the blogfest and the forum, just because those both end this month. But DQ is also important. Argh.

I would also really love to do another contest/book give-away soon. I thought maybe a micro-story contest (story in 50 words or less). Sound appealing?

Monday Madness: Take It Like a (Wo)Man

Giving critiques is hard. But, sometimes, it's even harder to get them.

Critiquing requires a certain level of maturity, and the same goes with being on the receiving end. It's easy to bask in the glow of people saying, "OMG, you are AWESOME...when can I buy your book???" But not so easy when people are like, "Meh. It was okay. Didn't really do it for me though." Or, even worse, "Your book sucks. Please go burn it now." I've experienced all three types. And, sometimes it's hard to not take it personally. But, remember, in most cases it's not about YOU, it's about the story.

What's the difference? Sometimes it's hard to tell. Stories can be like babies...really ugly babies that only you could love. But you still love them and when someone is like, "Whoa, what an ugly baby!" you can't help but be offended.

Sometimes, I've even cried. Sometimes, I've REALLY disliked the critter. Sometimes, I mutter profanities to their avatars. Because it's hard to look at the ugly, naked truth of your story. But don't take it out on the critters. Most of the time, they're just trying to be helpful. And, usually, when I'm finally able to distance myself enough from my story (and my ego) to digest what they're saying, they are right.

It's all about building a thick skin. About learning to recognize credible critiques from the not so credible. And learning to go with what feels right to YOU in the end.

And, if you feel like you're being attacked, the best course of action is to ignore that person. Even if you want to paste angry emoticons all over the screen, DON'T. Simply thank them for their suggestions (or, if you can't even do that, for their time).

It's okay to disagree with what a critter says.

Repeat that: It's okay to disagree with what a critter says.

And remember: When it comes to critiques, be the bigger person, both in giving critiques and receiving them.

Book Review: Dead Until Dark

So, I took a wee break from Karen Miller's Empress because books effect my mood in very powerful ways and I am already angsty enough this month without reading about torture and killing, thank you very much. (I will finish it, I promise.) So I wanted a nice, fluff read. I REALLY wanted a YA read, but didn't have enough dinero for a hardback so I moseyed over to the adult section.

I spotted Charlaine Harris' newest release and then backtracked until I found her first book, Dead Until Dark . I picked it up with some reservations, despite the frantic ravings of some of my friends. Mainly because it was about vampires and, really, they made that movie Vampires Suck with me in mind.

And, honestly, even though I found the character to be interesting and the voice to be engaging, I couldn't help but compare to Twilight, so I saw a lot of things coming.

1. Where there be vampires, a werewolf/shapeshifter is sure to follow. (Check)

2. The MC will be found to be freakishly attractive at some point in this novel. (Check)

3. There will be a love triangle. (Check, check, check)

4. Someone will be out to murder our MC because of her affiliations with the supernatural. (Check)

But what made me snort a little bit (half in laughter, half in disbelief) is the complete reversal of the MC's and her vampire's "gifts." In Twilight, Edward can read minds, except for Bella's. In Dead Until Dark, Sookie can read minds, except for Bill's. At this point I'm starting to ask myself if this is a Twilight spin-off?

But, never fear, it's not.

Whew.

Dead Until Dark, for one, has no sparkling. Thank God for that. The vampires are actual VAMPIRES with bloodthirsty urges and can be pretty freaking scary (even the "nice" ones). Thumbs up for you, Ms. Harris. And there were dark moments, moments of REALITY (like dealing with lust, loss, grief, stereotypes and even child molestation) that Twilight completely overlooked. Plus, it's set in Louisiana. Can't get much further away from Washington than that. And while I felt like the plot took a backseat to Sookie's relationships (not that I minded, since her relationships were a lot more interesting than the murders for some reason), I was still engaged throughout the book and finished it fairly quickly.

Harris approaches the vampire craze with a tongue in cheek approach that I found to be refreshing after so much vampire-mooning. Sookie is able to see Bill (and all the other vampires she meets) with an eye that's not bedazzled by sparkles, though she still finds them fascinating. She really gave me a chuckle when she ponders whether vampires could "do it." And, if so, how it worked. I know that Twilight and Dead Until Dark were created for different audiences, but how come Bella never actually wonders if vampires can still do it? Especially when all she thinks about it jumping Edward's bones? She takes it for granted that he can, I guess. But that's what makes Ms. Harris' work so refreshing and so palatable to someone who was just sick to death (har har) of vampires: it's the nitty gritty of vampire-human relationships, sparkles not included.

Recommended read? Yes.


Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

Monday Madness: Honest Crit

Good Monday, everyone! I'm going to have a "Monday Madness" feature every Monday starting this week, featuring things that I have learned/hope to learn about the writing world. This will include every stage of writing, from the sentence to submission. I don't pretend to be an expert on anything, but I hope my insights will help some of my fellow writers out.

And, now, to the first installment of Monday Madness: Honest Crit!

In one of my critique groups, there is a tit-for-tat policy. So much so, in fact, that it even highlights people's stories who have critted yours. Pretty neat if you're like me and like to return favors, but not so much if you're (also like me) and a bit limited on time.

I believe in honesty. Not the cruel "haha, you're writing sucks" kind but in the kind that is constructive and well-placed. But sometimes I will come across a work that demands not so much my input on the story itself, but on how the story is delivered, i.e, technique.

I believe that everyone has a story in them, but not everyone has the ability to tell it. What is ability? Sound grammar, correct spelling, and varied sentence structure, in my opinion. When I come across a story that does not have these things, I get a bit exasperated. Even if the story itself is intriguing, I'm so distracted by its delivery that I can't enjoy it. And then the grammar monster comes out flashing its red quill of death and I start telling them everything that they need to fix before I could read this story for the story itself. I've even gone so far as to rewrite a sentence to show them what I mean (which, I will admit, is pretty pathetic of me). And, in case you're wondering, I don't do this to show my superiority or whatever, I do it because I honestly want to help the writer improve.

But correcting grammar and syntax shouldn't be a critter's job. AT ALL. Now, nobody is perfect. Occasionally there will be errors that slip under our editor-radar, but the majority of the work that you have submitted for critique should be free from error. WHY? Because if you're serious about writing, you need to have the technique down. I think of every submission for critique as a professional piece of writing, even those that I want just an opinion on. So I try to make it as legible and readable as possible, because I DON'T want people to be hung up on my technical errors. I want them to focus on the story.

Critters are not grammar teachers (though I sometimes forget that). They are there to offer their opinion on your STORY. So do them a favor and make sure it's as polished as possible. Not only will your critique group thank you for it, but you will also receive the feedback you're REALLY looking for.