not bad.

I got more than halfway through the ms. Probably not 60%, definitely not 75%, but more than halfway, which is acceptable. There’s a thing I need to go back and change, but it won’t cause too many shock waves. I think. I hope. Anyway. Still got more than 50% of it done, shockwaves or not. Also walked to the post office, cleaned the kitchen (mostly) and did (some) laundry.

Not bad at all. Go me.

I decided earlier today that when the graham crackers I’ve got are gone I wanted to make my own, so I went looking for a recipe. And I found *doom*. I found…

Baking blogs!

Really, I should’ve known they were out there. There are blogs on everything, and heck, my very own agent has a food blog (), so, y’know, *obviously*. Except I never thought of it, and now I’m *doomed*. *Oatmeal molasses bread*. Or *whole grain pancakes with blackberry maple syrup*. MmMMMMmmmm! Or or or. I am *so* doomed. Maybe I could start holding bake sales to support, er. I don’t know. My baking habit. How ’bout some ginger-pumpkin muffins? Or Mexican chocolate loaf cake?. Lordy, lordy. And this is only one blog. I’m *doomed*.

Yesterday I got a box full of copies of WINTER MOON. This was a mistake on Harlequin’s part, since I’d already gotten a box full of copies of WINTER MOON last year, but my editor said it wasn’t worth sending them back, so now I have like forty copies total.

Anybody who would like a signed copy should tell me a story about something (fictional or real, I don’t care) in comments and I’ll send out a handful of copies to the most heartwarming or giggly or eek-y or something (in other words, the ones I like best, but that wouldn’t be egalitarian to say, would it?). :)

I’m going to embrace my doom and go make some snickerdoodles. :)

miles to Isengard: 98

17 thoughts on “not bad.

  1. When I first moved into my old apartment I had a lovely jellicle cat by the name of Zasu. She was one of the smartest cats I’ve ever met. I was able to train her to do tricks, sit, shake and the like. She was quite a snuggler as well.

    For all these wonderful traits, though, Zasu had never been in a place that allowed for birdwatching. My apartment had a full wall made up of windows and a sliding glass door, with a balcony outside. Of course, one of the first things I did was put out a bird feeder, and the cat would sit there for hours “talking” to the birds in little mewling sounds.

    One day a small flock of chickadees landed on the balcony, and I think Zasu reached her limit. She had been sitting calmy on a chair by the window and suddenly sprang into a crouch. Her fuzzy bottom started shaking and just the tip of her tail twitched. All of a sudden she launched herself at the little flock of birds… to land smack up against the window.

    Zasu slid to the ground with an affronted expression on her face. She immediately got up and started licking her shoulder as if to say, “I didn’t do that, nope, not me!” She loved watching the birds for the rest of the time we were there, but never again did she try to get through the window.

  2. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess in an ivory tower with acres and acres of golden hair.

    But taking care of that much hair was a serious pain in the ass, so one evening, tired of waiting for a prince to come, and bored of the three songs that she knew, the princess chopped off all of her hair, wove a parachute out of it and floated down to the ground.

    She went to college, got a degree in accounting, and sings in a nightclub in the evenings these days.

  3. Hey…. I have a recipe for ginger and pumpkin cookies I’ve been meaning to try and the muffins reminded me. Thanks. Also, take a look at this: (I’m assuming no relation). I’ve just this last week made homemade strawberry icecream and thought I should experiment some more…. Perhaps I’ll have to walk to Mount Doom myself afterwards.

  4. It’s been a pretty rainy year so far in Seattle. We had about 40 consecutive days of rain in the winter, and now that summer’s almost here– well, it’s still rainy just about as often as it isn’t.

    Now, trees fall over sometimes here. Usually, it’s because of windstorms. Heck, I thought it was always because of windstorms. But last night, we had a hell of a rainstorm. It was loud and it was long, water just pouring down from the sky. And when we looked outside this morning, the tree that shades our patio had split in two! The side closest to us was still upright and rooted, but the other side fell away from the house, onto the hedge that covers the enbankment in our yard. There’s suddenly a lot more light on our patio now.

    I went outside and poked around the tree and the best I can figure is that the rain washed away enough of the enbankment that the tree had to split. The part that fell over even still seems rooted. If it were my own house, I’d kind of be tempted to leave it for a while and see if the tree re-establishes itself, growing out horizontally over the rest of our yard, like a plank on a pirate ship. Stuff like that happens in the wild! But i don’t think our landlords would approve.

  5. There once was a prolific writing Kit, who had so much work to do, she didn’t seem to have any time to do anything fun.
    She had a book to write but there was a great and acclaimed concert due on, and she didn’t know if she would make it to the concert.
    She had many things to do before she started on her book, and each thing made finishing the book that much farther away.

    But then she found a magic recipe for *Oatmeal molasses bread*, and with this recipe she found great stamina. And somehow she found a way to slow down time. And the book nearly wrote itself when she sat down to write it. And the words, they were perfect in every way, or appeared that way until the revisions came back.
    And then, the now tired writer Kit, found a mystical recipe for *ginger-Pumpkin Muffins* which speed up time and calmed her frazzled nerves.
    And now the writer Kit was free to go to the great Concert. And so she went and so did her husband, the wonderful Ted, and they had a fantastic time.

  6. *chuckles* check your email (catie/cemurphynet) for mine. It’s too long for comments, but should make ya giggle. The things I’ll do for a free book… course, I could tell embarassing High School stories instead… (with proper exageration, of course. hee!)


  7. If one desires to avoid turning purple in the sun, one should, at a minimun, wear sun screen when out in the sun. Yes?

    Yours truly, however, is not so clever. Brain-burned and quite fuzzled by the multiple! consecutive! days of the ever-unreliable Irish sun, she dons a bathing suit and goes to the beach. Sun screen of any sort does not go with her.

    In the evening, she discovers that her pale skin has turned a rather tender pinkish-brown. This is not a problem, yes? After all, it is only a leetle burn. Small. Practically insignificant. And everyone else she knows is already sporting a most magnificent tan.

    The following day, she returns to the beach. Alas, the heat had quite broiled her brains. Does she bring sun screen? No, not at all. This is Ireland. Surely the sun won’t last the day, and if it does – burns? No, impossible. It could never be that warm.

    Alas for her, it is that warm.

    Purple does not look good on naturally pale-skinned shoulders. The moral of this story? It’s good to keep sunscreen on hand. You know. Just in case.

    (I’m practically a stranger, but there’s not a lot I won’t do for a free book. Including embarrass myself in public. :-))

  8. Yes! Tell the embarrassing high school stories!! (Uh oh…there goes my chance at winning a book…)

  9. Once upon a time, their was a mute girl who lived in a big mansion, the little girls parents where always busy and going off on business. There gardener who was a bad man took notice to this, one day after the parents left and the butler and maid had left to go grocery shopping and the girl was all alone. The Gardener snuck into the house and rapped the girl and visiously beat her and no one could hear her screams, the girls ghost still haunts the house after the girls death her parents moved because they reported seeing her ghost wandering down the halls screaming but no one could hear her screams. It is said that if you go into this house the girl will take away your voice and kill you and no one will hear your screams. – Tristian Evans

  10. My little brother, who currently resides in Heaven where he belongs, was four or five when he discovered his calling–Animal Rights. He went over to the neighbor boy’s house one day and found himself in a garage full of animals. Snakes, rabbits, etc. He let every single one of them “go free”. Naturally, our neighbors were quite upset and tried to repremand the boy. Rather than recieving sheepish apologies for mischevious hijinks, they were severely lectured and vehemently “how dare you”d on the subject of imprisoning animals.

    True story. Also, I ~had~ Winter Moon, but I let a neighbor borrow it before me moved and she still has it. *sigh* They say sharing is good, but I still don’t see the benefit…

  11. True story – since someone else posted a cute brother story, I had to tell mine.

    My mother is Jewish, and my father is Episcopalian. Well, we were raised in both faiths, my parents figuring that we’d make our own decisions, but that we needed to be informed of both faiths.

    In our town is a Congregational Church that every summer runs a Vacation Bible School. This is basically arts and crafts with a Jesus theme, and all of the kids in Nottingham (of all faiths) go. My brother was 6 at the time of this story.

    Well, the minister was asking all the kids what faith they belonged to. They all answered, and then it was my brother’s turn.

    He paused, thought for a moment, and then said seriously, “Well, my mother’s Jewish and my dad’s Episcopalian, so I guess I must be Pagan.”

    Needless to say, my parents got a visit from the minister and his wife the next night. :) My brother wasn’t quite sure what the word pagan meant at that point, but he was pretty sure he was. Funny thing is – he’s now a Pagan. :p

  12. Here’s my story: There once was a group of exceptionally “innocent” and very “accodemically focused” students on a trip to New York. Being the “innocent, accodemically focused” students that they were found themselves with some free time in the hotel, so they decided to watch PBS so as not to be “influenced by the not-so-innocent night life in New York”. Imagine their surprise when out of the television speakers they heard, “HI I’M STEVE…”

    From that day on this “not-so-innocent” student, on any occasion she meets a new STEVE, has to wonder, “ARE THEY ALL THE SAME?” :) HEE HEE!


  13. BWAHAHAHAH! omg.

    I will never ever be able to get the picture of Steve in his tighty whities and his speil out of my head. *L*


  14. Oh. My. GOD. I’d totally forgotten about STEVE. *HOWLS* Ok, you win a book on principle of reminding me of scarring incidents from my childhood. My God. I can’t even remember anything more about STEVE, but you win!

  15. Funny, I on the other hand remember EVERYTHING about Steve! How sick is that?

    Yeah, for the book! Do you happen to have a copy of Urban Shaman you could sign for me too? I could come up with another childhood story!!


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