Fast Women and Faking It are out in trade paperback today. Remember the covers the brilliant Mollie designed?
Well, they’re on store shelves now. Just wanted you to know.
And so this post isn’t just about selling you something, here’s the Amberscrap story:
So I checked the Argh comments and answered them, went back to the dashboard to check links, and saw that Mary Stella had just posted the St. Anthony chant. Cute. Then suddenly the dogs wanted out, so I took them out onto the terrace and thought, Okay, retrace your steps one more time. Nothing. So I walked around the edge of the terrace where I have not been since last spring and there it was, leaning against one of chaises on the river side. It sat out there through a rainfall and a snowfall, but it’s waterproof nylon and everything is fine. I just don’t know how the HELL it got there unless St. Anthony dropped it off from the other dimension it had fallen into. So now I stand in awe of St. Anthony and Mary Stella and Argh Nation in general. Thank you all very much.
Must go light a candle to St. Anthony now.
Edited to add:
Since people want details . . .
I traced my steps by crossing the terrace from the house to the gate:
Then I turned around and came back to the terrace from the gate:
And I looked at the chairs:
And then I went around the outside of the terrace:
See. NOT EASY TO FIND.
And yes, I know the flagstone needs weeding. One thing at a time.
Day Four: Supplies are running low but my team stays strong and loyal.
Of course, that’s because there’s still plenty of dog food; dachshunds are not deep. (“Is there still food? We’re good.”) Lani buys me groceries so that helps but this is moving into more and more surreal territory. No matter where I find the damn thing now, it’s going to be an anti-climax (“It was under something”), plus the guilt from having so many people worry about it is really upping the pressure, particularly casting down people in the Mother Country. I’m hesitating to call on St. Anthony because if that doesn’t work, there goes a religion. Continue reading
1. I LOST MY PURSE. I had it on Saturday because Lani and Krissie and I went to the new JoAnn’s and spent a fortune, and then Lani borrowed the car on Monday to take Krissie to the mall because her car is gurgling, so I had it inside the house then, and now . . . nothing. It’s not in the car because I checked, and I have searched everywhere on the first and second floors (I didn’t take it up to the third floor, haven’t been up there in weeks) and it’s gone. I will be searching until I find it because the damn thing has my life in it. My wallet, my phone (now dead, of course), my latest crochet project, Lyle’s vet records, enough Kleenex to get me through any allergen that comes at me, my extra gloves, and the pretty shoes that hurt my feet if I wear them too long but I didn’t want to leave them in the car. This is not a small bag, but it has evaporated. ARGH! Continue reading
Susan Elizabeth Phillips sent this to me with a note that said, “You’re mentioned in this.” Which meant I had to watch it and then post it here. Susan Elizabeth Phillips is no dummy. She’s talking with Heather Graham who is fabulous but whom I evidently insulted at some point because when she got her Lifetime Achievement Award, she thanked a lot of people (well, everybody loves Heather) and then said, “And Jenny Crusie who taught me that it’s okay to be a bitch as long as you’re funny.” I’m pretty sure that’s a compliment. It might go back to the cocktail party before that when I looked at the stunning, spangled electric blue dress she was wearing and said, Continue reading
Every time a disaster hits, I worry about the Argh people there, except most of the time I don’t know where “there” is. I know Strop and Ag are in England but I’m not sure where (Yorkshire for Strop, maybe?); I’m betting Brussel Sprout is in Belgium and CologneGirl is in Germany, but I could be kidding myself; I know we have several people in Australia, but that’s a whole continent; and I don’t know where the hell Marly and Ryan got to (phone home, guys). And then there’s the USA Arghs, they’re all over the damn place. So I thought, “We need a map.” Then I thought I’d better run it past you before Mollie spent hours making one.
So here’s what I was thinking, which would obviously be completely voluntary: You’d e-mail your username (not your real name) and your location (nearest big city is fine) and we’d put you on a clickable map that would look something like this: Continue reading
This is going to be a lousy post because it’s been a hellish week (not as bad as Japan, of course, and YAY MICKI’S ALL RIGHT!), so this is all updates.
The river’s going down, and the roads we need are open again.
Lyle’s been diagnosed with Polycystic Kidney Failure which is irreversible, untreatable, and fatal. We have no idea how long we can keep him going by treating his symptoms, but we will as long as he’s happy and living a good life. That includes Lani and Alastair giving him subcutaneous fluids every night for which they deserve the Roommates of the Century award. When he becomes so sick that his days are miserable, we’ll let him go. Lotta crying on the river this week.
SMP is being an absolute champ about marketing the re-issue of MTT in trade paperback which includes an e-mail coupon (more about that later) and several giveaways and lots of other good stuff. I love my publisher. Continue reading
Today we are at 55 ft. But no tsumani. Puts everything into perspective. Plus the dogs are on watch:
I love living on the river. It’s like natural Valium, 24/7.
Until it rains a lot.
The river is rising and while I’m about 75% sure it’s not going to be a problem for us, it’s still exciting. At 57 feet, the river comes through the fence into our back yard; today it is at 54. (Actually, our back yard extends out a lot farther than that, but it’s at the bottom of a mini-cliff so we don’t go there.) At 61 feet, the first floor of the house has tadpoles. The Big Flood of 97 hit 65 ft and put counter-height water into the rooms that are currently my bedroom and kitchen. (No, I didn’t live here then.) So attention must be paid. Continue reading
Mollie and I have been talking about internet marketing, what works, what doesn’t, what makes us insane, and in particular, how nobody knows nothing. Well, some people know something, but mostly it’s all guesswork. It’s come up because there’s an in-house publicist who wants us to use the e-mail list (and the JCF list and Argh and FB) to announce that Maybe This Time will be out in trade paperback shortly. I maintain that all the people on the e-mail list, the JCF list, Argh, and FB knew when it came out the first time so saying, “Yo, it’s coming out again,” is a bad idea, especially since we’ll be doing the same thing in the fall when the mass market comes out. I think that if we’re going announce this AGAIN, there better be something new with it, like a coupon for 10% off or a picture of Christian Kane naked (I’ve been watching Leverage) or the answer to the meaning of life (42 according to some people but I think it’s dogs and chocolate). Continue reading