Sexy Pirates, Vendetta, and Dilana - don't speak!

Has it really been an entire week since I've blogged? The week has gone by entirely too fast!
In writing ...
Needed a break from "Lucy's Island" so began work on an erotic romance pirate story that will hopefully be included in an anthology (more about this later). The new story is called (tentatively) "The Hawk and the Mouse". Here's the first line: "Sebastian knew he was in hell the moment he stepped through the door; and it was exactly where he wanted to be."
Does it make you want to keep reading?
In movies ...
Saw 'V for Vendetta' and LOVED IT! I'm adding it to my fave movies list. Political drama/thriller, wonderfully executed, well acted. Very poignant, very reflective of the times we live in, though interestingly enough, it was written in the 80's about the Thatcher era in England! Yet it's more relevant in this day and age. The parallels between Bush, terrorism, media, fear-mongering for control, conspiracies... JUST SEE THIS MOVIE. The dialogue (and there is a lot of it) is perfect. I put on the subtitles so I could read along. In a movie such as this, where the dialogue is so rich, so many ideas coming across in an almost poetic cadence, I like to turn on the subtitles so I can follow along reading as well as listening. Must be the avid reader in me, but I find it enhances my experience.
In television ...
Rockstar: Supernova continues to offer spectacular performances. Ryan 'Dark Horse' Star performed an original that was worthy of immediate radio play, although I still don't believe he should front the band. He'd be a terrific solo artist. Toby 'The Thunder from Down Under', did a rockin' job when he got to perform a new Supernova tune. I admit I was skeptical before hearing the SN original ( I wasn't a fan of Metallica, Guns n Roses or Motely Crue), but it proved very enjoyable - even catchy. It was called ... 'something something and Five Other Cliches'.
And my all-time favorite, Dilana, proved to be a coniving, backstabbing bitch, who talked quite nastily about her fellow contestants to reporters. Ohhhhh -- has she blown her chance? Only time will tell! Dave N and the band really gave her a hard time (and rightly so!) -- but she still has better 'Supernova' qualities than any other contestant, so who knows. And loath that I am to say it, I miss Zayra!

True 'First Day of School' Story - Excerpt from "Growing Up Cold"

*Names have been changed to protect the ignorant; derogatory nicknames remain intact.

Growing Up Cold: The Brown Bag Incident or How My Mother Killed Me
The first day of high school is the most important day of your life. Exaggeration? Absolutely not! That life altering day begins with first impressions. Your worthiness is evaluated, scored, and your social standing is chinked into stone by your peers. It is the defining period of your teenage years and thus will impact your future success, who you marry, who you become.
My first day began gloriously. My home-room was full of strangers - people entirely unaware of my nerdy past - and it was located in the coveted Technical Wing, home of shop class, machines, carpentry and electronics. Why was having your homeroom, thus your locker, in the Tech Wing important? For the boys, it meant not having to go far for most of your classes. But for us few and fortunate gals, it meant numerous daily trips to our locker with plenty of opportunity to engage in the age-old sport of Checking-Out Hot Guys.
I had it made!
First period, English; no problem, I could form a decent sentence.
Second period was computer science with Mr. Down*, or as the seniors called him ‘Hands Down’, as he allegedly liked to put his hands on the girls’ bottoms. I must stress ‘allegedly’ as I didn’t witness any shenanigans by Mr. ‘Hands’ Down. For the record, I was not felt up in high-school. By anyone. Not even by aforementioned Hot Guys in the Tech Wing.
Third period science was hosted by a frighteningly stereotypical absentminded professor by the name of Mr. Brumpty*, or as we affectionately called him, Humpty Brumpty. Many ‘kick-me’ signs would be affixed to this poor man’s back over the next four years.
Fourth period, right before lunch, was with Mr. Truelove. We could have had a bloody field day with his name, but he was the school principal so the students collectively, respectfully left his name in tact. Fact was, Mr. Truelove was a really cool guy and a terrific math teacher. Numbers were not my strong suit so I was naturally nervous, but the first 30 minutes in his class were enjoyable. I answered a few questions correctly and made the guy sitting in front of me laugh with a few well-placed sarcastic asides. Half of this stressful day was over and I felt great. Life was good. High school was awesome!
That’s when the knock came.
Mr. Truelove interrupted his lesson to answer the door and I was horrified to see my mother standing there. They exchanged whispers, then a hand-off. Mr. Truelove quietly shut the door and strolled casually to my desk. “Miss Gadowski? It seems you forgot your lunch. Your mother was kind enough to bring it.” Was that a smirk on his face as he handed me the neatly folded brown paper bag? I could feel the stinging heat of a blush creep into my cheeks as I buried the offending package in my knapsack. He knew that he had just witnessed social homicide and could now sit back and watch me struggle for the next four years. He knew he would get plenty of laughs in the staff room at my expense. Sure, kids were mean,... but teachers were meaner. Sadly, the tale doesn’t end there. My murderous mother condemned me to a slow torturous death by packing in that innocent brown paper bag, her famously delicious sausage. Home-made garlic sausage. The waft coming from the depth of my backpack was unbearable. I didn’t need to see the glances, the smirks and the notes being passed to know that I was finished. No party invitations, no dates, no prom. Welcome to high school.

I'm no Ebert, and Mimi, you go girl!

I bought school supplies today and sadly, I was more excited about the process than my second grader. I loved the beginning of the school year when I was a kid! New teacher, new pink eraser, full compliment of Laurentian's (freshly sharpened all equal length!), white running shoes and best of all, new clothes.

And speaking of clothes, I took myself to see "The Devil Wears Prada" this evening. I wasn't expecting much and am happy to report that it was very entertaining. Why were my expectations low? Well, I read the book (ages ago - and loved it!) and Hollywood never seems to do a very good job at cramming a 350 page novel into a 2 hour space. Too many things get sacrificied - entire main themes sometimes - characters, sub-stories, - all just get lost in the translation. "Girl With the Pearl Earring"? They ignored the essence of the main characters' relationship! Not one Stephen King novel has been given justice (ok, maybe Stand By Me - but technically, that was a novella. Oh wait - that one with Kathy Bates was pretty good, too) and none of Ludlum's works have ever come across well. "Bourne Identity" you counter? Come on, the movie barely resembled the book. Yes, I concur, it was a very good movie, but it wasn't the same story as in book. Not even close! They just took the Jason Bourne character and basically made a new adventure for him.
Anyway, while I've been debating myself, I just remembered another exception. "The Constant Gardener" was a fine adaptation.
I really don't argue with myself very well, do I. Not sure which side of my brain won...

Also in movie chatter - I watched "Door in the Floor" with Jeff Bridges (who plays a writer) and Kim Basinger. I vaguely remember it being in theatres last year - maybe the year before.
Excellent movie! Kind of. I wasn't sure if I liked it while I was watching it though it was extrememly thought provoking, in a life-is-shitty-now-deal-with-it sort of way. By morning - after my brain had the night to sift through the obvious and subtle symbolism and metaphors - I decided I liked it very much. Goes without saying that the acting was suberb (!) and it lacked the typical wrapped-up Hollywood ending, sadly but gladly.
The full frontal nudity of Mimi Rogers, I could have done without, but hey - got to give a 48 year old props for bravery! Go rent it. You won't regret it -- especially you authors!!

Yawwwwwwn

Boring weekend - not much to blog about . . .
On writing - tackling first pencil edit of 'Lucy's Island'; still waiting to hear from publisher re 'The Color of Passion'; no work done on novel.
On television - Request to Rockstar: PLEASE stop the insanity and get rid of Zayra. In fact, all contestants can go home and let Dilana take her rightful place as lead singer of Supernova.
Sadly - there's is nothing else on television this summer worth watching. Although... did catch 'The Jane Show' and was pleasantly surprised at the home-grown humour. If there's one thing Canadians do well (very well) it's comedy. Just ask Mike Meyers, Howie Mandel, Jim Carrey, John Candy, Catherine O'Hara, Martin Short, Lorne Michaels, . . . you get the picture.
Did see Fantastic Four on the movie channel and couldn't believe how unbelievably crappy it was! Hello!!! Every heard of Spiderman, Superman, Batman?? Comic heroes CAN be made into very successful movies if you get a decent screenplay. The producers should be ashamed of themselves for letting the F4 out of the editing room.
On books - just finished a few Mira books (Harlequin single titles) as part of on-going research into how to write the perfect romance. One was very cute - 'Underfoot' by Leeanne Banks; the other one was called 'Silent Waters' by Jan Coffey. Meh. Tomorrow I'm going to pick up 'Family at Stake' by Molly O'Keefe, which I understand is a very good read!

Blogging for a Flogging, ... and my God, I'm Brilliant!

I could be flogged for this, but I'm bored of summer. I couldn't tell you what the date is. I know it's August, but please don't press me for a number. July was simpler because I was counting down to the release of "Bella Fiore", but August has been a blur of playdates, swimming, shopping for needless things (that's another blog), and bbqs. I know I'll regret these unquestionaly bizarre feelings when there's two feet of snow on the ground and I can't start my car, but for now I say - "Bring on Fall!!!!"
It's not a weather-issue but a state-of-mind-issue. During the year, and by that I mean September thru mid-June, it's all business; but during the summer, my mind feels like it's on holidays. Now this isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I have a hard time being productive, and that includes sitting down to serious writing, housework, or any must-do task, especially one with a deadline. I don't enjoy summer cooking (aside from bbq-ing) so sadly have been relying much too heavily (pun intended) on McDonald's and Tim Horton's handy-dandy drive thrus.
But I'm bored already! I long for a routine, for my children to be back on a normal sleeping schedule, school!, piano lessons, karate, my up-coming gym membership kicking-in, and for the hum-drum sameness of Monday to Friday with adventures reserved for weekends. I think the trouble with summer is that everyday feels like an endless Saturday so there's nothing really to look forward to.
EUREEKA! I just had an a-ha moment! Let's face it - the best part of the weekend is Thursday. The 'looking forward' to the weekend and the adventures it promises. On Thursday, you begin anticipating the possiblities, planning, organizing fun things, discussing them with family and friends. My mind has already left the dreary work-week behind and I'm beginning the weekend mentally. So I'm actually enjoying a three day work week and a four-day weekend! My God, I'm brilliant. Or at least I've fooled myself into thinking so...

Humpty Ego had a great fall

... and speaking of contradictions -
My ego was both boosted and bruised this morning. My darling first-born, in response to a fellow six-year-old's comment that his mom works all day but mostly comes home at night, replied "Well, my mom is just a writer."
A Writer! Someone actually thinks of me as A Writer. I've been called A Writer - out loud - in a public place! Okay, so only a handful of second graders were present, but WOW!!! I have the cleverest child IN THE WORLD!!
Hey, wait a darn minute, . . .
"...just a writer." ?? "JUST" ???
C R A S H ! !
The sound of my ego falling off the park bench and scuttling into the nearest crack in the pavement.
I better just get back to my computer.

Big Bad Bikers

Witnessed the oddest thing this morning and feel compelled to share it with the eworld...
I was attempting a left turn from a small side-road when a guy drove by on a huge hog. The motorcycle was big and black, complete with metal studded saddle bags. The beast who drove it could only be described as 'gang'. He wore wrap-around black shades, and his muscular, tattooed arms bulged out from a shredded jean vest -- no tee underneath.
I didn't think much about it; you see all kind of bikers in the summer, right? I pulled out a few cars after he'd passed by but ended up along side of him when I entered the turning lane at the next intersection. I thought I heard, . . . . but no, it couldn't be! I opened my window, just to reassure myself, and OMG! The guy's motorbike was equiped with a stereo and it was blasting out AIR SUPPLY! "Here I ammmm, the one that you love, asking for another day-aaay"
WTF?