Archived Messages from February 28, 2001 to March 7, 2001

Hiyol,

LITTER/DEBRA: Well that's good news. I spent ages on the net (well it seemed a long time) looking for the imformation I wanted about it, but seems it's top secret. I'm glad you guys know what your talking about. I like it much better your way.
But, and here's the note from the publisher of that mag I was speaking about:
quote:
"ps: Please, please make sure all stories, pictures and letters you send in are exclusive to us. If we publish anything that then turns up in a rival magazine-sorry, but we won't be paying you."
end quote.
How could they do that under those copyright laws? Would that be a special contract that's been signed?

CHRISTI: McDonalds cones are 30 cents here. Heeeeey, our economy may not be so bad after all. Glad your back and well.

EDGAR: Indeed fiction should be written that way, but you wouldn't find it in the middle of a dictionary would you now? ;-)

HEATHER: I got my copy of writers digest yesterday and your story critique wasn't bad at all. She only omitted a few words and changed a few around. She got the POV wrong though didn't she? Your using an omnipresent view point. At least I thought you were.
Anyhow, look at it this way. Had it been perfect they would have had nothing to critique. :-)
Actually I found the articles in this months W.D. rather interesting.

LONELINESS
For 52 years they had never spent a night apart. For 52 years they have loved and laughed and cried and fought and danced and lived..
She always hoped that she'd be the first to go.

My shortie is supposed to be on-topic.
It might appear more on the topic of nuttiness.

Oh well!

Heather

LITTER: What part of Scotland are you from? I should probably phrase that: Where in Scotland do you live now? ;-)

Ok, it's a little longer than it was before, but I think it's actually better this time.

Forgive me that it's not really SHORT!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bullroot’s

I stare at walls to keep from talking. I keep from talking so I don’t get shanked again. I don’t wanna get shanked; nobody wants to get shanked but there are a shitload of guys with hard-ons just waiting for a new guy to shank. Or a not-so-new guy if he looks wrong. They shank you so you’re weak and scared and that’s when they get you worse.

I’ve stared so long now it seems like ten times I’ve clipped my nails since last I looked away. I just stare at a crack in the wall; any crack so long as it’s over heads and away from eyes. I just stare and listen all day, even ignore my tastebuds and what my fingertips tell me. The scratch of my clothes and the hardness of benches blends into the backround and nothing but that crack ahead can take me away long enough.

Not even the sound of that louse Lackey below me pissing into the bowl from his bunk can make me move an eyelash. He’s an idiot; the most uncouth of a thousand uncouth assholes that I ignore with all my strength some days. Better it’s him, as he’s just smart enough not to join in on initiations. But he’s still way under swift.

Lackey finishes his morning aim game, and I keep on staring at the long, thin crack above the wobbly wreck of a desk. I can smell the piss and my eyes water and I wish to God he’d move his lazy stupid ass and flush.

If I had a mirror maybe my wrinkles would be enough, but what’s supposed to be a mirror is screwed to the wall and it’s no good. And anyway, I have enough cracks to stare down in this dump. The dry desert in the yard makes for a million cracks to watch, even in the rain. Yesterday I found a new crack that reminded me of my long-dead wife, and I had to run to keep her laugh from poisoning my resolve.

I need cracks because they don’t talk back, they don’t move, don’t throw things, and they sure as shit don’t get up and grab you. I don’t look at people any more because I can’t let myself get broken. If they think they broke you the first time, they won’t bother tryin’ you out again. I never want to look at another face; faces that jeer and laugh. Faces I wake up screaming from.

Those faces took my fear and turned it into something raw, and they forced me to swallow it, chokin’ me on their madness. They’d have broken me right from brain to tailbone had that crack not been there to steal away faces and words. The first crack was cut deep just as if it was waiting. If I’d seen worms or critters crawling instead, you can bet your last meal I’d a been down for the count, or worse, every minute of my days. But all I saw was this deep, shining crack and it smiled at me and I knew what it was saying without words.

Lackey finally sits up and starts swinging his feet, I can feel the bunk jiggle back and forth. Then he starts whistling this ditty over and over. He knows it makes my spine shake and my skin crawl, but he keeps on anyhow. He’s been tryin’ to get my goat since he got holed up in the same cell. He thinks I don’t look at him or talk cause I want to screw with him. But I told you he was an idiot. I just keep staring at that crack, that big, smiling, missing wedge in a face of concrete. I study every dusty inch, every grey shadow, and if I let my eyes go blurry-like, I can think my own thoughts again. This warm buzz comes loud enough if I stare long enough, and it’ll wash away Lackey’s damn whistling, his pissing, his sickening grunts. Hell, it’ll burn away any of the morons in this place for a while. I can buzz all afternoon if the light’s right and the cracks are big enough to swallow me. Sometimes I wish they would.

Lackey gets gravy on his instant mashed potatoes. I can smell it from down the table. He gets gravy cause he’ll do favours for the cook, if you know what I mean by favours.
I hate gravy as much as I hate Lackey.
I learned quick to eat without moving my stare from the crack over the doorway. Everywhere I go there’s cracks to greet me. I can’t slop coffee or food or else I might look away and end up somebody’s bitch, spitting blood and every vile thing. They already think I’m crazy, but I never do anything to get me solitary. Not enough light in there to see nothing though, so it’s fine with me. I walk back with my tray to dump it in the pail with the others, all the while that crack over the door has my attentions. But not all of them. I can hear Lackey and the rest of them at table three laughing, and way down in my stomach I know it’s at me.

Tonight I’m gonna tell myself that story again when it’s calm and Lackey’s whistling dies off. If they hear me there’s no telling how broken I’ll get. Got to talk soft, in that short, quiet moment before the last crack fades and the lights come on tomorrow.

I’m gonna have to remember it better this time. Have to get it right and maybe that will be good enough to get me free. Maybe tomorrow I won’t wake up screaming. Or maybe they’ll patch those cracks like they say they’re gonna patch them, and I’ll just have to take my pants off and make a noose.

Lackey’s going out in the yard now and I’m following, following the cracks up by the ceiling on the way towards the light of the sky. Sometimes one of the morons will go to stick a foot in my way and trip me, but I watch sideways from my eyes without taking them off those cracks. I can smell their sweat and filth before their shadow gets close. I just stop and wait til they figure I’m loose in the head and unpredictable enough to scare them off. They don’t always leave, but today they do.

The yard is full of wind and the cracks are under the dust. I wait til everyone’s away from the wall and I turn to it, looking for the long gully crack that’s coming back after they stuffed it with grout. Only crack left outside today worth watching. I hear the whistles of the screws signaling each other, and the talk of other lifers in every gust of wind. I can hear a few of them talking about me. I won’t look, and this dream of walking into Bullroot’s won’t fade. Bullroot’s is this little dustbowl hardware store that sells the smallest die-cast trains you ever saw. Only thing I ever wanted as a kid, and it’ll be the first place I go when I get free. There’s cracks in the street that’ll take me all the way there from here. Want to own a little red engine, coal stack and all before I’m dead. That’s all that matters any more. That little red engine and the cracks. Cracks and tracks. I can hear the little hoot and I can see the little track and push the button on the little motor right there, right in front of me.

Then Lackey comes and fucks it all up with his whistling again. I just watch the crack and try to slow myself down so I don’t burst out and punch him. It’s hard to keep my eyes on the crack when he’s standing in my light. I move quick to find my crack again and Lackey fades away, everything is plain again and my little red engine is waiting.

Tonight I’m gonna remember every word of it. Every word. I think I can I think I can.
I think I can I think I can. The Little Engine That Could. Need to remember careful, every word, so it comes and brings me oranges and lollipops and toys. Remember it right. When it’s calm and the cracks disappear.


©Heather Myles, 2001.

Litter:

I was looking at my new favorite spot on the web and over there at Cornton Vale they currently claim zero escapes.

In a word, JACKPOT!

hehehehehe
Debra

I am fuming. I am really fuming. I was concocting a fabulous shortie (early) and I went and flubbed it by pushing two buttons again by mistake, and my post and shortie disappeared into no man's virtual land! ARRRGHHHH!
That'll teach me to compose right into the box.
So I'm rewriting it, and if it's not so fabulous, fuck it.

Pardon my English slang.

My mother always used to say "That browns me off", but I cut to the chase and said that satisfying four letter word. Nothing quite like it when you're hopping mad.

Oh, and you know what two buttons I pressed? One was the tab button I'm sure of it, and the other was the 'q'. Now tell me how and why, and I'll tell you sweet fanny adams did it. This time the two button simul-post didn't actually post my shortie, though. It was almost finished!!! (*#$%)*&#!

Here's a cute little thing, just because I feel like it and it made me smile in adversity:

Show me a man with both feet planted firmly on the ground, and I'll show you a man who can't put on his pants.

Oh, and I'll post my shortie the cut and pastey style when I'm done yelling at it for not being exactly the same.

Heather :-/

Welcome Back Christi!

GERRY -- My apologies, I was just 'pulling your chain'. You wrote something that, on first reading, sounded a tad strange: "

"We all carried pagers for the squad. One of those volunteer squads you know. Or don't they have them in Scotland?"

On second reading it was obvious you were talking about volunteer squads (which we do have) and NOT pagers… But I couldn't resist. Sorry, you have said nothing to upset me.

Promising start to the shorties and I WILL go back and read them properly, but why is everyone early this week?

Something I maybe should have mentioned earlier is that, having watched some of the stuff Billy Connolly has made for US TV, he has gone a long way to 'sanitise/Anglicise his accent so that US viewers could understand him. If you want the real deal there are many BC albums/CD's on the market. He is a naturally gifted comedian but his stuff can be raucous and downright blue, but he still makes me laugh.

As for the man himself -- When he first started out, he played with a folk band called 'The Humblebums'. (With Gerry Rafferty and Tam Harvey) I used to sing with a folk group called 'Vinegar Hill' when they were beginning to make a name for themselves and, on two occasions, we played support for them at folk clubs local to where I lived. I was in my late teens and he in his mid to mid 20's. He was a man on a mission and way out of control. Somehow, everybody knew he would make it! Lucky sod!

DEBRA -- more tomorrow, watch this space!

Bed time.

Litter

I'm packing to go on another holiday, after I finish this one in the Sunny Side of Things, a little white village 30 miles east from South of Nowhere.

Came here to say hello to Hallee and Allein, whose birthdays I missed (and in the process missed them) and to declare Sebastian Jon the only and true President of us all, for 18 years starting ... NOW!!!

Here's my story for the night, dedicated to Sebastian Jon. It's called "Sebastian Jon welcome to the world" and should have the shape of the holy grail if I knew how to draw.


From the roofs of any Scottish prison you can still see I'm sure the mountains covered with heather
pink or white or pink and white
in August
when the swallows chirp all day about their past midwinter glory
as if it had been their best Christmas gift
something almost forgotten
therefore transfigured into images of dew and yore
mornings that are here to stay
immortal like a dawn of May
loneliness
the best of the rest of all the other feelings

Litter - did I say something? I wasn't aware that I was slamming Scotland, god I would love to visit there, I think it one of the greatest places in the world, or what I have read of it. I don't remember saying anything about pagers or any of that, hell you can't even get a pager or cell phone to work here. I guess I mentioned a pager when I was talking about working for the amublance squad, but they had a special transmitter used by the hospital. If I said anything wrong, forgive me, it was totaly unintentional.

Jerry

Me again,
I just ran a friend of mine through Google, just for fun and realized she had a web page for her Relationship Book. Thought some of the more introspective members might be interested in it.

Gone again,
Rosemary

Ben: I have not gotten my shellfish license yet, but lets say I just reached out and got my virtual one. So I will go virtually scuba diving and grab the crabs when I do. Actually, here I go.

Got them!!! Get that pot boiling. They are ready to go :-)

Evening All,

HEATHER,
I meant to mention this when you first listed your art web page. I think the painting on your cabinets would make an excellent cover for *P*. It looked spooky to me.

Welcome back CHRISTY and hello to all else.

By,
Rosemary

Litter:

Last time I promise. I added that website to my favorites. I'm going to memorize every word.

Debra

Litter:

Actually one more thing. Duncan comes from a proper middle class home, but Mary Flanagan comes from much less. I would be interested in hearing about that town Kirkintilloch you mentioned. She has not had nearly the fine life he had yet she thinks she's superior. It's probably because she was blessed with physical beauty, really blessed. I'm laughing already.

When you get time. Believe me. I don't want you to get sick of telling me about Scotland. Writing a novel is a slow process as you already know I'm sure. So, I really mean that.

On the other hand, I'll always take whatever you give me happily.

Thank you so much,

Debra

Litter:

I could kiss you. I am going to read your post a thousand times. I love every word. I'm going to cut and paste it and put in in a file called little bits of heaven from Litter. Yes I do want my character to be as real as possible. I have seen Billy Conolly. I'm sure that's misspelled. I love him to pieces. I will look into that sucide thing too. I wonder if I might use the fact that she didn't have good representation as as reason. Did you ever hear anything on those lines? She killed her abusive husband by accident. Really it was an accident.

My female character's name is Mary Flanagan. If it's not Scottish like Duncan's I can add in the fact that she moved there with her parents as a child. If it might be Scottish in some way let me know. I can't wait to read your post again. I'm going to buy a map of Scotland. I will watch that movie too, maybe many times.

Thanks aren't enough , but it is all I have at this time. If it ever gets published, your name will be there in the couldn't have done this without spot. That's a promise.

Debra

Hi All!

I'm going to answer some of Debra's questions here, as it may give others a little extra research info, should any of you wish to develop any Scottish connection/character.

DEBRA -- Nice to hear that I can still make hearts race…

There is only ONE long-term female prison in Scotland, Cornton Vale, just outside Stirling. It is also the only all female prison in Scotland. Fortunately for you, and your story, it is 15 to 20 miles north east of Billy Connolly country -- Glasgow.

So, Glasgow actually starts about 18 miles or so south west of Stirling. (West of Stirling there are only hills and small villages, and you do not want to go North.) 15 miles southeast of Stirling is the town a Kirkintilloch, just a short way before Glasgow proper. Accent and disposition are the same and, in the main, it is not an affluent place.

There is no hard and fast economic divide between the Highlands and the Lowlands but the vast majority (90%) of the population live in the Lowlands and south. There are many 'deprived', poor or redevelopment areas throughout the Lowlands, some of these in Glasgow.

Equally fortunate for your story is that this is the region of dry humour and 'affectionate' sarcasm. (You have seen Billy Connolly!) It is also an area of tremendous optimism in the midst of what is sometimes abject misery. Good for your character! I don't know if you would be able to get it or not but look for a film called 'The Elephants Graveyard'. It is Scottish made and is one of the most accurate portrayals you will ever find of industrial life in the west of Scotland.

A word of caution, tho', find some good source material, like the film above, because the sanitised version of Scottishness, produced by Hollywood and the like, just does not cut it, and I surmise that you want your character to be 'real'. Ask me by all means, but I will be merciless in the pursuit of accuracy.

Take a look at the Scottish Prison Services link, above. Go to the SPS Prisons page and click the Cornton Vale link.

(For completeness, for you won't find this on the official pages, Cornton Vale has been severely criticised for its high inmate suicide rate! Might make for an interesting wrinkle or sub-plot point?)

JERRY -- Yes we do have pagers and the like and next week I'm getting a conversion kit to change my PC over from gas power to that new-fangled electrickery… ;o) Pagers are fine if you reverse the batteries -- all of a sudden no one calls for you.

Enough for now -- I hope that the information I posted for Debra is also of use to others.

Later,

Litter

HEATHER: Yup..still here. I read when I can and I write when I can. Lately I've been a bit inundated with work so it's been work..sleep..work..sleep. I stop in the notebook to try and keep caught up and this is the first time I've had a chance to write anything. I'm trying to get a local radio station to sign on to a "Family Values" kind of workshop. Since I'm not religious, they are skeptical. But I think they'll warm up Ok. I feel that the workshop will also help my book effort. Pretty fun so far.

But I gotta go...Only had a minute

Later all
John

Looking for space shots, have you ever tried webshots? I use it on all my computers, check it out at this address, it has lots of them, and it is all free. You have to download their free controller, then all the photo's are free too for the download.

Jerry

Jerry: jeans and a flannel shirt is just fine - but you'd be sweating in the summer here for sure. It's so hot I blast my air conditioner 24/7. I'd hang around the air conditioner vent at all times if it weren't for feeding the kids, bathroom breaks and a place to sit.

Tina - the eye of God indeed! What a beautiful photo! I wonder if the Hubble has taken pictures of my old kitchen cupboards...

(I mean the painting on them)

Skiis - oh, yes, cross country only. I was raised wearing Karhu racing skiis from Finland, cross country all the way.
Downhill simply scares me. Why would anyone want to plummet from a cliff? Or a cliff with breasts, as those mogul hills seem to be? I like my legs unbroken and my face the same. Tried snowboarding on an infant hill once, and nearly took off both feet. That was the last of snowboarding for me. That sport is like strapping yourself to the bottom of a skido. Pointless and painful. Oh, but the few seconds of pure air you catch are just so worth it...

I'd rather hang-glide in a tornado. Really!
And now to read the shorties!!!

Heather

TEEKAY: Yes, a teeter-totter is also sometimes called a see-saw here, but not frequently.


Wow! I think the shorties that stem from the loneliness theme are really going to knock my socks off. Way to go you guys!

Renn is doing great, thanks for asking, he has been outdoors most of today, it is a great day out there, the temp is around 50 F the snow is rapidly melting, and the sun is shining brightly.

So sad about those school shootings, I wish there were something I could do to help, but I guess it is beyond my control.

Richard, many of us went through hell going to school, I know High School was no picnik for me, as I was from the wrong side of the tracks, we had no running water, so baths were rare, every two or three weeks, made one rather unpopular, the crowd I ran with were heavy drinkers, I guess that's how we coped.


Here is my short shorty.



Oh So Lonely
By Jerry Ericsson

Day 1900 The third moon just rose from behind the new Rocky Mountains. It rained last night, not one of those gentle rains that make you wish for a companion, but what we used to call back in the hills, a gully washer. I don’t mind the rain all that much though, except last night Skipper, my little cocker spaniel was washed away. I will miss him so, as he was the only other living thing here on Argos 3. I shall begin a search for his body in the morning; the least I can do is give him a decent burial. He has been my only companion for the last six years.

Day 1901 The great thing about being stranded here is the fact that I can catch up on my writing. Yesterday I finished my seventh novel. I am hopping that some day, hopefully soon a star ship will pass this way and hear my distress beacon, it simply has to happen soon.

Day 1902 Argos 3 is on all the star charts, however there are no major shipping routes that pass within a light year of here. My beacon only extends one thousand kilometers in all direction, but is blocked out when the remains of my ship go behind the planet. It was there yesterday when a ship passed, I could see it’s surface reflect the light of my sun, it appeared to be a rather large ship, I would imagine it was a freighter probably belonging to the Maron world, as they “own” this part of the galaxy. I wouldn’t have minded being rescued by them though, it is said that the Maron women are the most beautiful in the universe.

Day 1903 The battery has gone dead in my entertainment counsel, and I have no way of recharging it, so the days of playing galaxy wars, and Duke Nukem 4D are long gone. I am thankful that there was a goodly supply of paper and pencils in the lifeboat that I rode down to the surface in. There are enough rations to last a crew of seventeen for three years. I have yet to calculate how many years it will last one man, but may do that one of these days, although I am not worried. I was so happy to see the gauges on the ship showed the atmosphere was stable enough and contained enough oxygen to sustain life, now I am not all that sure it was a good thing. I do not know how long I can go on being totally alone. At least with Skipper, I had someone to interact with.

Day 1921 The horrible loneliness continues, today I located Skipper’s body. I buried him with the words of the burial script found in the survivor’s handbook from the escape craft that I have been living in for so very long.

Day 2015 Another ship went by last night, my beacon should have alerted them, the remains of the ship were nearly overhead, the battery must have failed. I will be here forever.

Day 2103 I can’t take it anymore. I am going to take my own life, better to die of my own hand then of loneliness.

“When do you think he wrote that last entry Bob?”

“Not too long ago, the body is still in good shape, the med scanner says about three or four days ago, depending on the temperature.”

“Too bad, we should have stopped on the way to the space port when we heard the beacon, instead of on the way back.”

Thanks you guys. You all are so great. *sniff*

I can't wait until I have time to check out all the new contributions to the workbook. Sounds like there's some neat writing going on over there.

Great stuff Mary!

It's funny, as soon as I saw your shortie night theme I couldn't stop myself from finishing early either. It's a strange one but I'm going to go ahead and post it. I think I combined loneliness with a ghostie I was thinking of writing. I'm a bit embarrassed because all the talk about sex scenes got me going in a direction I don't wander too often (writing-wise). Not embarrassed enough NOT to post it though. ;0) Gads I get so nervous about posting these things! Here goes.


Soul Mate

He was back—she could feel it. She kept her eyes closed in the hope that she could trick him into believing she was asleep. She concentrated on keeping her breath even, but not too even; he wasn’t an easy one to fool. For effect she rolled her eyes underneath her closed lids a few times.

As the minutes crawled by she began to be stifled from the weight of the blankets she’d carefully piled on at the beginning of the night. They were the thermal kind, dyed in appalling shades of pink and green. She’d covered every inch of her skin in the hopes that if unable to see her body, he’d go away with his desire unfulfilled. Now they enclosed her in a claustrophobic womb and she ached to kick them off. On the positive side, the discomfort did take her mind off of him, even if only for a few moments.

Just then, the slightest touch tickled the back of her neck. So slight it was that she couldn’t be sure if it was real, but all the same her body froze stiffly into position. Then she realized she was holding her breath. The jig was up. “I know you’re there!” she cried out.

She threw the blankets off in relief and the slick sweat that covered her body turned ice cold, frigid fingers kissing her every curve and crevice. At the same time, heat rushed to her groin and she could no longer deny that she’d been waiting for this moment since he’d come to her last night and the night before. She wasn’t afraid of him at all; she’d been lying to herself. She wanted him to touch her like he had then; for him to make her feel like she was floating far above the earth in a hot air balloon, with cicada’s song in her head. That was how it had been, with the addition of a delicious dotting of fear that had made the journey somehow excruciating and spectacularly exciting, building to frenzy until she exploded rainbows of raw emotion.

She wondered where he would take her next; what spires they would reach together, what new songs would strain through her. Instead of fearing him, as she knew she should, she welcomed him to her, to every inch of her. Her lonely journey had ended. It had been far too long that she’d only dreamt of what it would be like to have a lover. Though it wasn’t in the conventional way, she was in love and for the first time in her life her love was reciprocated in kind.

She moaned and writhed on the bed thinking of him, knowing he would touch every fiber of her soon. “Please don’t make me wait any longer,” she whispered. “Take me.”


They were the words he’d been waiting for. He threw himself into her with total abandon, and it seemed that the sky split open above the two of them, his ethereal body and her physical one. Her eyes flew open wide, at first fearful and then mellowed, as a drugged kind of smile whisked across her lovely face.
As she exhaled her last breath her body went slack, and he welcomed her as she came into her new awakening. The two embraced voraciously, as they never could have done when she was of the flesh.

He knew they’d shattered every rule but he didn’t care. He’d been alone for eons and couldn’t wait a moment longer for his love to come to fruition. He hoped she’d not be angry once she learned of the consequences, but from the look of her he guessed she would bear them as gratefully as he would.

“Come, my darling … my soul mate,” he said, as he took her hand. “I have so much to show you.”

Tina:

Thanks. I am totally glad I asked you guys. I feel so much better. I know just what to do. I will just naturally write what is necessary for the strory. The thing is I know I will never be the author of a story like Hannabal. I would like to hope that my stories will be just as intersting though. They will just be an extended version of me.

The murder actually was an accident. She didn't have good representation. It's not a reflection on Scotland and I don't go into it very much. She has 15 years to spend in prison and can't stand even one second of it.

It's really about that part.

Debra

Still thinking about how what we write reflects on the author. Debra, one way to think about it is; this female prisoner has committed a murder. When the story is done are you justifying and condoning the murder, or is it just part of the actions neccessary to set up the conflict? Consider the situation and factors that led to the murder, the reactions she and others had, remorse, and your protagonist's feelings about it. By the end of the story, will your message be that it was okay for her to do what she did, or that it was her greatest mistake? That is the moment that matters, the judgement, not the act itself. Lousy things happen in the real world, and if you don't acknowledge them in your fiction based on the real world, the story will lose credibility.
For your own peace of mind, writing about something and condoning it are two very, very different things. And you are neither a hypocrit nor anything else like that. What you are is a writer. You owe it to yourself to let the neccessary facets of your story exist without apology. Your conscience will guide you through what is and isn't acceptable to YOU.

Gotta run. My dog is demanding a walk, and it's a beautiful sunny day. We should hit 14 or 15 degrees today! Yay!
T.J.

Mary Lou:

It makes you wonder how anyone ever gets published at all.

In fact I just heard from that agent. He said and I quote, "your work is lively and intersting." He was hopeing it could be longer. I told him I didn't want to dilute my message. It's to help girls get out of an abusive relationship. I got that message in a letter. When I called to thank him for looking at I got both him and his person who reads the stuff on the phone at the same time by accident. She was really sad that he decided to pass. I could tell that they didn't agree on this one. I was glad to have heard that.

So he said no in the nicest possible way. I have hope to keep going.


I could be 90 to 100 pages if formatted the right way.

Back to the drawing board.

Debra

Debra, no, I don't think that's the point of the article. There are several common literary scams and schemes.

Agents who brag about their success and ask to see your work (for a fee, of course). They provide you with a written critique that some flunky has written while the agent never sees the work.

Agents request to see your work and reads it at no fee. Responds by telling you it has enormous promise but needs some rewriting and editing. The agency can provide these services for you which turn out to be very expensive. Some actually promise that they will sell your work to a publisher whic, of course, is a bald-faced lie.

Another scam-scheme similar to that one is the agent who refers you to a "book doctor" who will put your work in publishable form. The agent then requests the "doctored"
manuscript ASAP so that he may find a home for it. The sam here is obvious. The agent gets a kickback for each referral. A number of bogus publishers also operate this scam.

The agent agrees to read your work at no charge and sends you a glowing report saying it is very saleable. He hthen offers to represent you for a one time fee (which an be expesnive). You pay and eagerly await the results of the agent's hard work--but you never hear from him again. Another warning is that this type of scam has invade the Christian market.

An agent agrees to reporesent your work, but charges a relatively small fee for each submission. She claims to keep trying to sell the work but never makes a sale. Most of the work she respresents is not good enough to get published. The agent does no market research and makes no follow-up calls. She merely throws the ms. in an envelope with a form letter and mailing it to a standard list of publishers. Agents like this fully expect everything they "represent" treturned with rejection form letters.

Warning: If you receive a printed flyer in the mail from any literary agency asking to see your work, there's very like a scam or sheme behind it.

I can fully relate to the above info, because I have had experience with the kind of agents described. I only bit once as far as money is concerned, but that made me take a good hard look at the others.

Hope this explains it.

Mary Lou

Rararooom:

Sure you can use it if you want.

Debra

Hallee:

I read most of it and it's great. Thanks much. In fact, I just went to visit a friend of mine who goes to the same church. She told me that there is a Catholic Priest who writes all that stuff. So I guess the sky is the limit.

I just didn't want to offend you know who, up there. When I think of it now, he gave us our imaginations.

Kru:

I would love to hear what you have to tell me anytime.

I haven't got much to show you yet. When I do.......


Debra

I finished my loneliness shortie early, so I figured I may as well post it and hopefully inspire some of you for tomorrow. Hope you like it! :-)



“That was a lovely story, Mrs. Stoneburner. You know Boots just loves to hear you tell stories.”

“Not as much as I love to tell them, honey.”

I watched the small tear run down the old woman’s cheek and it wrenched my heart. I rose from the edge of the bed and knelt down to put my arms around her shrunken body. She shook gently, running her veined hands over the cat’s gray fur. The wide, solid door, closed tightly, still couldn’t shut out the beeping of the other resident’s monitors or the soft moaning of the man across the hall, slowly dying.

I had been bringing my cat to the nursing home every week for over a year and it never got any easier to leave when the visit was over. As difficult as it was, it was worth it to see the look on the residents’ faces when I walked down the hall with Boots in my arms. They would gather around us in the Activities Room or the Lobby. It was always surprising to see how fast those wheelchairs could roll or walkers could clunk. They were all very special to me, but Mrs. Stoneburner had carved herself a very special place in my heart.

“You know that Boots and I will be back next week, Mrs. Stoneburner. We would never want to miss one of your stories.” I gave her a firm hug and sat back down at the edge of her bed, watching her fingers run over the cat’s back and listening to him purr. “Can you hear him purring,” I asked?

“No, honey, but I can feel it.”

We sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, my hand resting on her knee. Then she looked at me imploringly, “Can’t I keep him here with me? He likes it here.”

“Now, Mrs. Stoneburner, you know I can’t let Boots stay here. You are right, he does like it here, but he can’t live here. We will come back every week to visit you though. I promise.”


“Yes, Dear, I know…but I am just so lonely.”

Richard – Sorry if this is a little late, I’ve been sick have had more to do than I am capable of. It looks like you are getting some good counsel from this group. But I would like to add this little piece of support for you. I was “different” in high school too. I still think of myself as “different.” High school was a very lonely experience for me, I was not one of the cool people. Over here we just had this shooting that you are probably hearing about even over there where a young man that was “different” got a gun and shot up his school. I’m not suggesting that you would do anything like that but talk about hanging tells me some violent thoughts may be going through your head. To a certain extent that is normal for an adolescent, I am surprised to see your age; based on your writing you are mentally and emotionally quite mature for your years. I have spent a bit of time looking into this adolescent violence phenomenon of what happens to those kids in school that feel different. One thing to keep in mind is that everything changes when you get out of school. The rest of your life will not be a continuation of what happened in school. Kids are horrible to each other. Adults generally don’t do that kind of stuff; bullies get a comeuppance and learn new behaviors or go to prison. An Efriend from an Internet discussion group that I am in runs a web page about this called Raven Days, you should check it out. I think it will help you with perspective. Hang in there, I’m glad you have this group.

Debra – I used to work for a department of corrections too. I used to teach “The games inmates play,” if you would like I would be happy look over what you are writing and offer technical suggestions.

Hey everyone!

TINA: Hi there. Haven't said hi to you in a couple of days. The space shuttle went over our town Tuesday - I missed it, though - but Conan got to see it. He said he worried the whole time because he remembered when Challenger blew up - he was outside watching that one, too.

RHODA: I FINALLY got my Romance Writers Report, and read that article on writing the book in a week. You were absolutely right - about 70% of the tips they gave are what I do, anyway...the whole concept of not editing as you go, leaving notes for later when you do edit, though I don't skip scenes simply because I have to write a scene to know what's going to happen next because I usually have no clue (haha) (however, I don't do all the preparation they talk about, including the outline). Anyway, it was neat to read and know that maybe I'm not doing it wrong, after all.

CHRISTI: Howdy. I missed you - take it slow.

MARY: Big hug to you, too.

BEN: You seem like you have a fun life.

RICHARD: Sometimes...sometimes you just have to lighten up and let yourself be 14. You take it all too seriously, and most of the time that's great and fascinating, other times it will give you an ulcer before you're twenty.

HEATHER: Hi. Hope all is well on your end of the continent.

JERRY: How's Ren?

HOWARD: That was a great cake - I've made one like that once before - similar, but not exact.

AMERICO: ??You okay??

DEBRA: Hope what I sent you helped - I haven't read it in almost a year, and I'm halfway afraid to read it. haha

Okay - I'm home with Kaylee again, and I need to get off line so I can let my office call me four or five more times.

**HELLO EVERYONE I MISSED**

Happy Wednesday!

Hallee

Good Morning. I love you guys. Big hugs all around.

Hey all; I've just finished the final touches on BEST SEAT IN THE HOUSE after receiving some furthe constructive comments. All in all my story has provoked some positive reactions which has helped me enourmously, mind you I know I still have a long way to go, which suits me just fine. I'll post it again in the work (and this will be the last time). Again all comments and criticisms (especially the latter) are welcome.

TEEKAY: How is it going mate we haven't spoken in a while. Ya devil you.

CHRISTI: Hope you're feeling better. My fiance has the flu from the hell at the moment and I am doing all I can to ease her suffering. So I know what its like. Take care

DEBRA: Language bites you on the ass? Wow what a metaphor can I use it? Seriously though I do know what you mean.

RICHARD: A 14 year old who can write about sex? I am 30 and I have trouble with writing about sex. I have had my fill of experience but when it comes to putting it on paper I just freeze so what I tend to do if I have a character who is about to engage in Sex (for whatever reason) I just leave it to people's imagination. Its all implied. Just so that you know that when I was younger I was allowed to watch most unsuitable material e.g Bruce Lee Movies, Horror Movies, The Godfather (except for porn of course) and it never did me any harm. Still a little caution never hurt anyone and some things should be experienced later in life.

HOP: I've printed off PSI ACADEMY and I intend to have a good read.

I am tired and have tons and tons and tons of work to do.

Catch y'all on the flip side lookin good and feelin fine.

RRRRAMON

PS English dialect tip (this ones for HOP) "The Dogs Bollocks"

Gariess:

Thank you. I was just about to call them and demand my ms back. I think I will give it a few more days.

Debra

Litter:

Duncan lives in a town about 15 minutes east of the prison. He loves his mother but not creepy style. He's not a momma's boy but don't insult her. He had a normal amount of friends in school but they all went their own way after. He was left almost alone and starting working for the prison.

He gets by on his friendly sarcasm, but inside he wants something. He just doesn't know what. He has been going like this for more than twenty years now. He has finally met his match in this women prisoner. If you saw him like I did you might see Billy Connolloy. He played in Mrs. Brown.

Guess what, someone asked me about writing about a murder and I said I didn't have one, well I forgot that she is in prison for murder. It happened before all my characters met. I'm afraid I might just break all my own rules right out of the gate. What does that make me? I don't critize others for doing it so it's not a hyprocite. I know it's something with a name just like that. Can anyone help me out with that one? I know that there are still things I cannot do. I just wonder how short that list might get.

Debra

I meant, meant. Not emant. But you all knew what I meant, right? T

TEEKAY, What LITTER said about first rights, I echo *grin* I started to write out what it emant again but Litter explained it perfectly *smile*

EDGAR...Wow! Great shorty and that would definitely be a great scene for helping with character development. I wish I still smoked. *grin*

Well have an article to write so best get at it...have a great day all!

Trudy

Okay. I just got home from a nice warm night of working on the river. All that talk of snow storms and cold weather reminded me of why I will never leave this place. The stars were all out, the river deceptively fast, and the city lights almost illusional the way they reflected off the water. It's hard to believe that it was twenty degrees here today--what's that? About sixty-ish on the old Farenheit scale? It's hard to remember sometimes. I have a job that allows me the luxury of travel though; I tie up the throttle on the boat, put my feet up, and let go of the steering wheel. I do doughnuts down the river, watching the scenery flash by, day dreaming of being somewhere else, when everyone I know wishes they could have my job. It's not a hard job, it just takes a little practice, which is why I like to play: rocking the boat up and down, leaning over so far that I can pick tennis balls out of the river without getting out of my seat.

Now down to business. It took a long time to read all these posts, and I hope I can remember who said what. As for the sex question. When I was in grade twelve we had a porno writing contest. There were about five or six of us young gentlemen with raging hormones who decided we should have a contest. The problem wasn't writing it--what young man can't come up with something about sex, virgin or not? The problem was judging them. We solved that problem by saying we all had to read the stories in the main hallway at lunch time, standing up against the wall. The first person to sit down out of obvious embarassment, well, that story would be the winner. Needless to say, we all sat down at the same time.

DEBRA: The way to write a sex scene is best solved by simply saying: They made love. That's it. If you feel uncomfortable writing a Harold Robbins sex scene, then don't. James Clavell, in his Asian Saga had the sex take place off screen, so to say. Everyone basically knows the fundamentals anyway--in, out, in, out; repeat if neccesary--so why bother with it? Why fret over it? "They made love" covers the whole thing for you, and you can get right to the pillow talk, which is always more interesting as far as moving the story along anyway--unless you're writing about a whore, (which you probably aren't). In LONESOME DOVE one of the major characters was a whore, and I don't recall any major sex scenes in that story.

As for fingers getting caught in doors and things like that...I stuck mine in the planer at work, and lost the tip off one, and damaged the one beside it. It was a mess. They gave me Demerol which I didn't mind at all, and then my doctor gave me demoral(?) pills, which I didn't mind either--and niether did my room mate who just happened to be an ex-junkie...but that's another story.

And the nude bar-b-queing? My goodness. I did that too, sort of. I was supposed to be watching three of them at this big party we were at, standing there with no shirt on, beer in one hand, spatula in the other, wearing thongs on my feet. That was my mistake. I turned, trying to pivot, caught my thong on the stand of one of the b.b.q's, and fell on one of the other ones. I was past my point of balance, and had to push myself off with my forearm. It was a Friday night, and everyone wanted to take me to the hospital and have it taken care of. I had no desire to sit in the emergency ward on a Friday night, and said forget it, just get me drunk. They did. The pain went away real easy. Of course, everyone else got drunk with me, and then the girls all wanted to play nurse maid on me. I said fine, go ahead. What a mess of bandages that was. I went home and actually slept on my stomach. I drove myself to the clinicd second and third degree burns. Not one of my smarter moments, but then, I've had a lot of those. Who hasn't? What? No one else has fallen on a B.B.Q.?

Oh yes, and the virtual dinner? I can bring the maple syrup I guess, but it seems like a bit of a waste, when I think of my darling little wife and her gourmet habits here at home. If Jack brings the crab, she'll make a huge pot of crab and coconut milk, Fiji-style. Maybe Teekay will know what that tastes like? If you want it hot, like Hop's soup, it will make a great companion dish.

But I've gone on for long enough, and it's getting late. I was up this late last night, and up at 8:30 this morning. My eyes are sore.

Oh yes, and Litter, I agree with you entirely, the guy's a total loser. I was just glad I had a cop with me in case he was still there. From what I understand, he likes to hurt people just for the fun of it. Not the kind of guy I want to meet at two in the morning when he's in a bad mood. Not the kind of guy I want to meet at anytime actually. For some strange reason though, he seems to be reluctant to face off with my wife who has met him. Go figure. She's only five foot--almost. I think it's because she's somewhat opinionated at times. And independant...everything he doesn't like in a woman I guess.
Now I really gotta go.
Ben...

Here's that link to the Hubble picture I mentioned. Don't know if it fit up above so here it is again.

http://oposite.stsci.edu/pubinfo/pr/97/pn/content/mycn18.jpg

Hello all!

I was just gonna pop in and say hi, but now I'm catching up on two days posts and it's getting late. Oh well. Trust me to be away for the two days that this place is humming!

Do excuse my lack of birthday salutations. I can barely remember my husband's and family's. I hereby announce a Happy Unbirthday to everyone!

Mary, I'll check out the site. I actually have a whole swack of space pics on my desktop. Can't get enough of 'em. Have you seen the 'Eye of God'? It's real name is the Hourglass Nebula, but Eye of God is so much more appropriate. Hey, I'll put in a link. It's an amasing shot.

Heather... skiis? Only if it's cross-country. On the food end ot things, I make a wicked pavlova. It's a melt-in-your-mouth meringue covered with fruit and whipped cream. Oh yeah, now I'm drooling on my keyboard... Can I bring my hubby? He is the king of veal courden blue (sp?). And I usually bring taco chips and my home-made salsa to these kind of things. And I won't eat much, just one or two of Jack's dungeness crabs. (licking lips)

The discussion is over already, but I have to say that I fight the whole 'What kind of person am I' argument whenever I stop and think about the fact that most of my major characters in 'Shadow' are assassins and mercenaries. I'm especially nervous about letting my mom read the story. What will she think? No, I am not a pyscho!

Mark, bread should be its own food group. Not 'grains', just bread. Crusty, savoury bread with cheese and herbs... ohoh I'm drooling again. Just got the last mess cleaned up.

Oh, Cassandra, I just noticed that you drool on the keyboard too. Doesn't it make the worst mess? Not as bad as Heather's coffee though.

Arik and Christi, it's great to see you here again!

I just thought of one nice bonus to meeting with friends on the internet. I CAN'T CATCH ANY OF YOUR GERMS!!!!! (Sorry Americo, I couldn't resist) While I sympathize with all the runny noses, congested chests, etc, I'm happily healthy and haven't had a bug this year. Of course, Mr. Murphy hates a braggart so now I'll get horribly sick. ;oD

Okay, I need to get some sleep. We have visitors, and they have two little girls who wake up much earlier than I!

T.J.

per discussion,

Many agents employ readers. As more and more of this work gets taken on by the agencies, we will see more readers working for agents. Readers used to work for editors in the publishing houses. Now, agents are taking on the work, it helps bond them to the publishers, and it makes a nice economy move for editors. Since agents have become so established as part of the industry the bulk of the submissions now goes to them rather than the publishers as in the past. The readers will have to go where there work goes.

The Curtis Agency gets some 50,000 submissions a week. The editors can't handle it all. Someone has to triage a heap like that.

GS

Heather, nude? Is that mandatory? Just wondering. You see I get cold real easy, in fact I am cold most of the time, and I wear sweat shirts, vests and jackets, and that's just in the house, when I go outdoors, I must bundle up. In the summer however, I might consider it, if the temp is friendly. I would have to warn you however, that I am embarrassed simply wearing swimming trunks in public, so I am not all that sure I would be comfortable coming nude. Would it be all right if I came, oh say, wearing blue jeans and a flannel shirt?

Cassandra - I know Gariess will catch this, but I was so sad to hear of the demise of your mother's hair. Perhaps some hair dye would be appropriate? For the funeral for her hair, you know.

Edgar - nice to see you. Love the Raven, one of my favorite POEms.

Litter - Don'tcha hate that, when folks call you instead of the authorities. I used to get that all the time when I was on the force, instead of calling the PD number, they would call me, and expect me to come. I usually called the PD and had a car dispatched before I left the house. I was on the ambulance crew too, so I had to respond if there was an injury, we all had jump-kits provided by the squad, as there were so few of us on the squad, and many times we responded if we were in the neighborhood. We all carried pagers for the squad. One of those volunteer squads you know. Or don't they have them in Scotland?

SHORTIE NIGHT THEME: Loneliness.

I meant, you've stuck... my grammar is horrible at times. please excuse me... :)

I have moments of blondness, inherited from my mother even though I'm a brunette and so would she be if she didn't die her hair. (she likes to say she was blond until she was my age... but that was when my age was 10.)

Heather- It was a pleasure to see that you've sticked around. I had hoped there'd be some friendly faces still lingering around when I got around to returning here.

Trudy- He's actually in the room at the moment, and I couldn't be happier. :) I love getting to spend what little time I have with him... which coincidentally is why this message will be short. :)
I meet him on the fourth of July, my friends Renee and Dave and myself were going to the fireworks here in the capital, and Dave's friend Jon decided to join us. At first I didn't really notice him, but then he was just so incredibly nice and sweet that I couldn't help but. We were a sure thing only 3 days later. :-D

Cake-
mmmmmm, chocolate cake. Whoops, drooling on the keyboard... the good thing about Spring Break is that I might actually be able to bake and cook a little. Anyone have a good suggestion? or know a good peach cobbler recipe? or a really good cookie recipie?

Well, time to go hang out with the boys for a bit. Have fun everyone!

cya

Cassandra

Edgar, that was delicious.

THANK YOU!

Heather

Yes, Christi, I missed you!
Glad that slice of hell didn't leave any marks.

My sinuses are still thanking me that I didn't turn them inside out blowing my nose for two weeks. I am rather surprised that my eyes didn't protrude on several occasions.

Hope it wasn't THAT hellish!

So, whatcha going to bring to the potluck? Virtual potluck until that someday when we're so famous we can leer jet back and forth for BBQ's {maybe even nude) and all the other banquets we can dream up.

I always liked that phrase, 'dream up'.

Dream as high as imagination takes you...

G'night everyone.

All seems well in Paradise tonight.

Heather

OOOOOOhh, Debra, I think a bite on the ass is quite sexy.

I scanned this page yesterday and today there is so much more here. We do get busy here some days, don't we?

I was thinking of a counterpoint to the loneliness theme. Most writers thrive on point-counterpoint issues (at least as I have read them). So what's opposite of loneliness? Companionship, togetherness, coupling? Then the issues of steamy sex scenes came up. I may try to shoehorn an ass-nibble into what follows here.

Personally, I think you only see half the issue to say sex is a blessing from God. Sex is also a wonderful, physical, animal function. Some of my best memories are of moments before, during, and after. I may thank God for them as an afterthought, but the activity was first physical and second a remedy for cold, isolated, below-the-ceiling-lamp loneliness.

That said, here's another early shorty. Sorry Teekay, a fiction. (Shouldn't good fiction be written so that it engages the reader with a sense of reality, or at least believability?)

COUNTERPOINT ... [Rated R]

Jill and I generally lay front-to-back. Both on our left sides, my left arm under her neck. That got to be an issue, her weight cut off the circulation in that arm. Still, it was a position we favored. Seems like we did that for years. I'd wake up and need to move my arm, in waking I'd find myself pressed skin-to-skin against a woman: full contact from shoulder to ankle. With my right hand on her hip I could move in either direction and reach the end of her body. All of it felt good.

Jill always woke to my movements and the pressure she'd feel where our legs crossed. She had a wonderful phrase, "You have a nice way of waking me." She'd stretch a bit, straighten her legs, squeeze, and add a little pressure of her own to mine. We'd banter about my arm falling asleep but something else being awake. Before long we'd be face-to-face, lip to lip, belly to belly, toe to toe, joined.

After the heaving, breathing, sweating, pulsing urgency of the union, I came to appreciate the quiet moments with little hip twitches and long sighs. For the longest time, it seems, I could roll my butt around and feel the union. One early day I told her I could not tell where I ended or she began. She held me tight and cried. In the days (weeks? months?) that followed she knew I was exploring that feeling and enjoyed it with me.

I was there, and Jill was there, but the whole experience was one of union, coupling, jointure. This was not a solitary experience. Those were no days of loneliness.

END

Steamy? pointed? Could such exposition be necessary for character development? Is such exposition necessary for writer's development?

Yes.

Oh THANK YOU, Jack! *smooch!*

Mary Lou:

I hope you don't mean that he might be in fact stealing my work. Is that what you mean?

Debra

Welcome back Christi and a very personal emoticon just for you :-)

Debra, I don't mean to be negative, but I would be a bit suspicious of an agent that does not personally read mss. but leaves them up to someone else. Are you familiar with The Writer magazine? There is a good article in the latest edition on "Agent Scams and Schemes," by Scott Edelstein. You might want to check it out.

Mary Lou

Debra, I don't mean to be negative, but I would be a bit suspicious of an agent that does not personally read mss. but leaves them up to someone else. Are you familiar with The Writer magazine? There is a good article in the latest edition on "Agent Scams and Schemes," by Scott Edelstein. You might want to check it out.

Mary Lou

Jack - Thanks, much better now, I can read the notebook without the eye strain.

Jerry

Litter:

My heart is racing after reading your post. Heck, my eyes are watering. I'll tell you all about Duncan Boyd.

He is in his forties and a prison guard in a maxium security prison for women. He still lives with his mother and has never done anything wild his whole life. Except for right now. He is having a physical relationship with one of the women there.

Which part of Scotland has less wealth the Hghlands or the Lowlands? I would love it if you knew the name of such a prison. That's just a start on this guy. I do love this guy he is really nice inside. He just nees a push in the right direction.

Debra

YO PEEPS! I'm back! Did you miss me? Did you know I was gone? C'mon, you know you did! :)

Man it's nice to be back here. I was so sick and at the same time I had to take care of my son and husband who were also sick. We were a fun bunch for a while. It was a little slice of hell, but I AM ALIVE!

Rachel, I'm so pleased to hear that you and little Sebastion are doing well. You know I sensed that something might not be going so well during your pregnancy from small hints in your posts and I'm relieved that everything turned out all right. My labor with Jacob was touchy too and it was the scariest thing I've yet to experience. And the greatest thing too. :)
I wish for Sebastion all the health and love in the world. We should all bestow something to him, kind of like the good fairies in Sleeping Beauty. My gift to him would be great wisdom. May I be a fairy god-mother?
HUGS (0000000) and kisses (XXXXXX) for both of you.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to everyone I missed! Ummm, Sebastion, Hallee, Richard, Allein, and Ben! Was that everyone?

HI Teekay, Mary, Howard, Gariess, Tina, Eddie, Litter ... oh forget it, HI EVERYONE! I sure missed you all. And WELCOME to all the new folks! You seem a neat bunch.

Americo, Gee thanks. I'll bet you thought you got rid of me, didn't you? I'm much harder to kill off than that. Rather like a cat, I'd say. ;) There's a special emoticon just for you, because I know how you truly adore them.

At the beginning it was really hard to stay away from my computer and then it became quite easy as the sickness progressed. Then it became a habit, until I found that I was beginning to feel lonely. I realized that I've been coming here for nearly a year now, almost daily, and that it's impossible for me to consider leaving.
So dear friends, the bad news is that you all are stuck with me. The good news? McDonald's ice-cream cones are still twenty-five cents! (Or are they?)

Love and big wet kisses to all,

Christi

GS: Yes, what an idiot...of course I meant "The Last Picture Show" and "Texasville" was the sequel. Doh! I love McMurtry because he gets his characters so true. I don't know how he does that...they never seem to do anything out of character whether you like them or not. He knows how to show humanity and all its flaws. His strong suit is not the plot, its his people and insight. :-)

Jack,

That's pretty neat. I always thought it was a coincidence that we both choose the same font.

GS

Ben,
You are right. I looked it up and the name is Felson. I think I’ve made that mistake before. I thought, when I saw your post, that you were right, but I looked it up to see if it was Felson or Felsen.

Mary,
Is that "Texasville" the sequel to The Last Picture Show. If so, I saw it. McMurtry is a little too soap opera for me, but then I lack personal experience with the Southwest, so I disqualify myself as his critic.

Arik,
How are things in the hot spot?

Richard,
Keep in touch with your freinds and understand them, but keep your own mind. You’re a bright boy, but you don’t want to put yourself out of reach to others. This is simply a counter-alert to some of the things you are hearing here.

Teekay,
You are quite right, but my doctor always wants the girls on the phone to ask. He has a lot of elderly patients who would accept an appointment for next week when they have something serious going on.

GS

MARY: I use an nearly identical recipe, except I add between 1/8-1/4 tsp cream of tartar - the frosting sets much better that way.

Okay - Kaylee's in my lap - time for bedtime stories.

Bye all-
Hallee

For all who had problems reading things, I inadvertantly had things pointed at a css file that made everything Arial at 10 pts. Readable, but not really. Sorry, but I have opted everything back to just default font so people can make their own choice depending on their browser. Take care.

Rachel,

I agree with HEATHER. Kids can never get too much love and affection. All mine are spoiled that way. Enjoy that baby and give him all the love you possibly can. You have seen the studies about babies and how important it is in their development to be touched often and talked to. Sebastian sure is very blessed to be in your home and to have you for a mother.

Rhoda

Hi Peeps,

Just a quickie visit before continuing with my latest blockbuster (page 4)…

TEEKAY -- Silly little pedantic thing, but when something subject to '1st' rights is published the said rights are then used up and you move on to 2nd rights which are yours to do with as you wish. It only means that the mag only has the right to publish once and that they are the first to publish the piece of writing.

DEBRA -- I can share endlessly about Scotland, having spent some 47 years here, since birth! Prisons too, since I used to work in the Scottish Criminal Justice System. Give me some specifics as to where you want you character to come from in Scotland and such. Duncan is a good solid Scottish name, more favoured in the Highlands and Islands than in the Lowlands. Haven't got time just now but let me know what you want and I'll see what I can do.

EDDIE -- I think it was that extract. I've seen it before, probably here.

BEN -- from a personal perspective I'd say that 6'6" guy didn't win -- I'd say he lost.

Have to go,

Litter

TRUDY: I read an article somewhere about rights and so forth. I'm going to have to remember what I read it in and re check. It wasn't all that long ago so it shouldn't be too hard to do.
But I was under the distinct impression that the magazine that published those poems now had first Australian rights (forever) to them.

I was also looking at another magazine we have here, it's a real peoples magazine where people send in funny photos and true life stories, and in the editors letter in the last magazine she had a by line saying that if they saw any photos or stories that had been sold to them turning up in another magazine, then the contributor wouldn't be paid for them.

Really have to go and find that article now. I'm really curious myself.

Hi HOWARD, are you making any money with your articles on Themestream?

DEBRA, you can spell my name wrong anytime...I answer to just about anything, as long as it's not nasty *grin*

TEEKAY, I'm sorry if I explained that incompletely...yes they would have sold you the right to print it in Australia...if you could sell it to say a Canadian publication at the same time that would be fine. But as soon as they print it in their Australian publication you can sell it to another Australian publication, or anywhere else, if you want...no time limit...they just want it first. And yes I agree I guess if they sent something to you when they sent the cheque that by cashing the cheque you agreed...but again as soon as they publish it, it's your's to do whatever you want with again. Boy am I rambling here. Have I made any sense?

I don't think I could even get poems in those crappy publications *sigh* Mine are really crappy *grin*

BARNABUS, pass on the hot and sour soup recipe...I'm game to try them all until I find one he likes. I love a challenge!

CASSANDRA, never stay with someone who doesn't appreciate you...or someone you don't appreciate. Life's no fun that way. Glad to hear this relationship's going so well. *smile* It's nice when that happens.

OK hello to everyone else...have a nice night!

Trudy

BEN: Wow! a $30:00 entry fee! What's the prize?
We could have a good ol' bitch fest about postage fees and dollar conversions, but I think everybody here is sick of hearing me go on about them.
I understand though - I really do. :-)

Hi All,

MARY: I think maybe your teeter totter is our see-saw. But that's a guess.

TAYLOR: I'm from Bathurst. N.S.W. It's great to have some one else from Australia here. Jai was the last and he's been gone for ages.

HEATHER: I'll bring the take away chinese. That's what I'm good at. Or a pizza.

GARIESS: The reception girls shouldn't be asking you what you want to see the doctor for. Where's the patient confidentiality in that?

ARIK: Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey ARIK. Long time no see.

HOWARD: Great cake. My Mum does stuff like that. Who does the other computer belong to? Your wife?

CHHHRRIIISSSTTTTIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII: Wacha doin'?

JACK: Have you changed the font on the notebook? It looks different.

DEBRA: Hey there. :-). Oh guess what. I rang the bookshop this morning and your book is out of stock so now I have to wait another 6 - 8 weeks.

HOWARD: I know what you're thinking. Just let it go.
Oh! Don't worry, I see HEATHER beat you to it anyway. :-D

RACHEL: I think well loved is a more appropriate word. Spoiled has such brattish connotations. Every one says to us about Ant, that they bet he's spoiled and I always think of bratty kids when I hear that word. I can't just agree with them & say 'well, yes, he is actually.' It woukd be so much easier if I could just do that. :-)

HEATHER: Well said. :-) How sad for those kids.

I'm a cake eater. Do we have any other cake eaters on the notebook???

RICHARD: Wow. Your parents sound really enlightened. And another thing. Those teenage years pass really quickly. Just a drop in the bucket they are. The really great stuff is yet to come.

EDDIE: That was lovely.

DEBRA: Tsk. RICHARD is now 14. I thought he was too wise to be just 13. :-)

Going now. Am not even going to look in the chat room in case someone is there. I am definitely working today.

sorry about the typos guys. I have thick fingers sometimes. Idweas=ideas
ben...slinking away

Holy smoke. There's not a chance I can read all of this before I have to leave for work within the next half hour. But I thought Paul Newman's character's name was Fast Eddy Felson, not Belson.

Happy birthday Allain. Hope it was better than mine. I spent a night unlike any other I've ever had. A friend phoned and said she broke her leg, spent an hour crawling through her back yard to reach the phone--she was trying to crawl out of her bedroom window to escape the clutches of an ex-boyfriend. I was lucky enough to run into a local Gendarme on the way around the corner, and he contacted the ambulance. I don't know why she didn't phone 9-1-1 instead of us...The ambulance took her to the hospital, and I told her I'd be there to pick her up if she needed a ride. She was trying to get hold of someone else that night and had to settle on us I guess. She phoned an hour and a half later. The best part of it all was that I was awaked with breakfast in bed. But I was bagged for the whole day after that, and still had to drink beer later that day with my buddy who was expecting it. (Okay, it was only Coronas.)
You have to wonder about some men and why they feel they have to beat women. The guy stands six foot six and weighs three hundred pounds. I guess he won.

Anyway, I spent the last few days working on my novella THE DAWN PATROL. Thanks Teekay, it reads so much better now. I printed it up and plan to mail it this weekend. Unfortunately, it's a thirty dollar entry fee, so what's that, sixty Canuck bucks? and probably ten buck in stamps. But sometimes you have to take the plunge. Entering contests is one of the things I promised myself this year, and this one looks unbelievable. Next up? I think I'll enter a story in the GLIMMERTRAIN contest. I've been thinking about it since I read a poem and analysis in last week's GLOBE AND MAIL, "LOVE IS NOT ALL", by Edna St. Vincent Millay. Blew me away. Idwas just came pouring in and I couldn't stop. It was pretty frustrating consdiering I was trying to get the other one finished. I decided that's what the title was going to be. Make my Momma proud to think that I was going to write a love story...sort of. I'm looking at ten thousand words, and hopefully will pare it down to about eight or so.

Happy belated Hallee. Now I have to get ready for work. Spent all day down on the computer, forgot about eating today. I don't think two hotdogs are going to last me until one a.m. I mangaed to make the kids their dinner, but of course I never thought about putting any aside for myself.
gotta go
Ben

Or the 90 percent of your friends who aren't as smart as you.

Debra

Richard:

You're going to be all right. I have read every post you ever posted, and from what I see you are the smartest 13 year old I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.


Think of it this way, you will be an adult for 90 percent of your life. So don't worry about the 10% that you are not.

Debra

Richard! Don't give up! You may not realize just how many people think the same way you do. (Not about hanging yourself if it weren't for God)... Most of them are older than you, that's all. You can thank God for your understanding and sensitivity, and your depth of understanding. You won't make the many mistakes that those 'friends' of yours will, and you will find real love without breaking many hearts, including your own. Then you can discover all those so called secrets of sex, knowing that you and your beloved can do so without God's disapproval, or your friend's for that matter. They will be the ones wondering why they have a giant hole in their life while you don't.

Trust me. Keep writing and keep trying to change things no matter how futile it may seem. There are people listening, and there always will be. Chivalry is far from dead. Look at the notebook! I've never met so many men and women in one place who put so much value in joy and love and honesty, and and... I could go on for a few years.

Heather

Litter,
Here is an excerpt from 'The Oregonian'

ABOARD THE MESSIAH -- The trawler's bloated net spilled tons of cod onto the deck, leaving it knee-deep in gray and white.
As Oregon and the world's toughest fishermen gather for the last great saltwater bonanza, who is in control?

"Here we go, here we go," Eddie French cried. "I don't wish for anything else. Just plenty of cod. If I get that, everything else will take care of itself."

"Fast Eddie" French dropped a second net into the Bering Sea to scoop up more cod. Fifteen-foot seas rocked the boat sharply and carried the threat of storm but did little to slow him down.

Back in French's home waters off Oregon, the Messiah can rarely take such big hauls of cod. But here within the 200-mile federal ocean zone off Alaska, these 30-ton catches are routine as the Messiah and a fleet of more than 50 other Oregon vessels dip into North America's greatest ocean harvest.

Perhaps that's it?

Uhg... two nights solid homework, 38 e-mails in the inbox and pages of new stuff on the notebook.

DEBRA: I actually don't dwell too much on the subject. Anyway, most of my wisdom and talent comes from my Mum & Dad. If they ever do dissaprove of anything I do they sit me down and explain why, talk to me about and help me to understand. They're very protective of me - I'm not allowed to watch films with higher certificates despite the fact nearly EVERYONE my age does - and I don't resent that like some might. I think the key thing there is that it's been explained to me, and I know there's a reason. Hey, I wasn't even allowed to watch Return of the Jedi until my parents talked to me about the way the Princess was presented as Jabba's slave and how it was the wrong way to think about women.

As for sex, I've only ever written anything about it twice. Both times it was because of the attitudes everyone around me has toward it. The reason I write about it now is because its evident all around me, the wrong attitudes and opinions, and I feel the need to express my own contradicting views. All my freinds are like, "Hey, sex, great, can't wait until I'm old enough to do it with some lasses!" Some other people haven't even waited that long. I get teased because I don't look at porn (thanks to the internet making it readily available). Just today I said something about real relationships not starting until you were a little older. One of my freinds laughed and said, "Okay explain this one to me." I explained there was a difference between sex and a relationship. The reply was "not to me."

Basically, I feel like drilling the point into their skulls. I write because I want to communicate these differences, but I might as well give up. Most of them are too blind to listen. Those who aren't will be afraid to be different.

Sheesh... teenage life is depressing. Good thing I've got God or might have hung myself a while ago.

Heather:


Okay that's the best one yet. No, no kids and sex ever. I would die first. Just so you know.

I do love the English lauguage for the same reason it sometimes bites me in the ass.

Debra

HEATHER: The absolute best all-purpose frosting recipe I have ever used follows. I love trying other types of frostings and fillings, but this one never fails and is always a hit.

1 c. solid vegetable shortening
1 c. butter
2 tsp pure vanilla extract. (You can use imitation, but I am not vouching for it if you do)
1 2# bag confectioners sugar (about 8 cups)
4 TBS milk (give or take depending on the texture you want)

Cream the butter and shortening together in a bowl. Add vanilla. Add sugar one cup at a time, beating well on medium speed..scrape bowl often. With all sugar mixed in, it will appear dry. Add milk and beat at medium speed until light and fluffy. (Makes six cups)

You can make this chocolate by adding 1 1/2 c. cocoa and an additional 4 TBS of milk after you have added all the sugar.

I have a 5 quart KitchenAid mixer with a wire whip attachment, but a whip attachment for a hand-held mixer would work too. If you have this...I like to whip the finished frosting for a few minutes to beat a little extra air into it. It makes it taste very light and not as rich, as sometimes people think buttercream is too heavy of a frosting. It might be all in my head, but it seems to take coloring better after this step too. This isn't necessary though, just something I like to do. Makes it easier to pipe as well, but it still holds its form. (Just a tip)

Howard - NOW THAT"S A CAKE!
Great idea!!!

Wow, didn't know there were so many cake decorators here. I've always wanted to get back into it, just to make our own birthday cakes, but last time I tried it I was a terrible icer. Wait now - the last time I tried was an awfully long time ago. Maybe the equipment is easier to use now. I squeezed and squeezed on that darned bag of icing, and when it finally came out it pretty much exploded.

Might be a technique I'm not aware of, or a particular consistency of icing I didn't achieve!

Well, we can't all decorate cakes.

Heather

Debra - be careful! Now it looks like you have had sex with five children, and you're husband didn't like it one bit!

You mean 'Of course I've had sex! I have five kids!"

Oh, clarity.

Arik! Great to see you!

Rachel, I'm looking forward to all you have to tell us!
Have a great nap and playtime. I know what you mean about spoiling kids with love and affection and attention - but that's not really spoiling at all! YOu can't spoil children with love. You can, however, spoil them with substitutes. I have had to watch my brother and sister in law's kids get worse over time, being spoiled with so many toys that they have two garage sales a year, and there are so many toy boxes it's hard to move in their house. The kids just want love, but they get video games, etc instead, and are ignored. Now at birthdays they don't even look at the presents. It all means nothing to the eldest any more. THe youngest just rips open the gifts and says, "Is that it?" I wrote and illustrated a little book for my nephew (the eldest) for part of his Christmas gift, and it's the first gift I've ever seen him get excited about, and he's only six years old.


So DO try to spoil your children with attention and big bundles of love! You and I both know it can't be done! :o) *big grin*

JERRY: I still have the scar on my knee from being thrown off the round-a-bout or merry-go-round in first grade. Treston Chappell, the little stinker that wound the thing up so fast ended up taking me to Homecoming my freshman year. Funny how things go 'round.

Hi all - You guys are all so great. Thank you for sharing in my pregnancy and now in the joy of this birth. You have all been more supportive than you can know. The net is good for a lot of reasons. One of them being that people only know what you want them to. None of you really knew about the problems that came up with my pregnancy. There were a couple of bumps along the way and the fact that you all just kept on as normal as normal could be was really very comforting to me. You know a reminder that the world keeps turning and life keeps going on sort of thing. It was very soothing for me to see that. I have started to read the posts and will reply in the next few days.

Litter - I read your poem to Sebastian. He opened one eye and listened keenly to the words you wrote. Thank you.

All - My little boy is being such a sweet thing. He sleeps for five hours at a time through the night. I think that is excellent sleeping for a little guy.

Okay, I better go. My mother-in-law is on her way out to watch Sebastian so I can have a nap, shower, all that fun stuff. Then she and I will sit and play with Sebastian.

This little boy is going to be so, so spoiled! I'm not kidding about that. I can see it coming and I don't care to stop it (grins). I bet I'll regret that one day. Who am I kidding, all of my kids are spoiled. Well, as far as the love and attention thing goes they are, but just try to get an extra cookie out of me! That will be the day;o)

Ciao for now,

Rachel

Barnabas:

I wasn't asking the definition of plagiserism. You said you just had to do that here on the notebook. So I was asking what you meant by that.

Rosemary:

No I would never say I hadn't had sex with five kids. My husband nor I would ever put up with it either. Good catch though.

Howard:

That was some cake. I especially love the look on your grandson's face. Priceless.

Debra

Mary - we just called them merry-go-rounds, like the ones at the carnival. I recall when I was very young, loving those dang things. One time, I was running around the outside, and a couple of bigger kids joined in. When I couldn't keep up instead of jumping on and enjoying the ride, I fell and never let go. Skinned both my knees up very bad, wore holes through my blue jeans then took all the skin off the knees and embedded them with small chunks of gravel. When I got home I caught particular hell for ruining my jeans, Z(we were very poor, and had no money to replace them, I had to wear them with large patches over the knees till I grew out of them) then mother cleaned the knees up with rubbing alcohol, then painted them with iodine. I think the cleansing hurt much worse then the injury. We had teeter totters too, another favorite of mine. In our country schools, we had teeter totters, but no merry go rounds, because they would have cost too much, so we could only play on them when we went to town, which was a real treat.

Jerry

JACK - HELP - I can't hardly read the notebook - I keep my text view on large - but it has no effect on the notebook today. Usually it makes it quite readable, but all it increases now is the text size of this box. Makes for very hard reading for my old decrepit eyes, have to lean my head WAY back to use the tri on my trifocals.

Jerry

TINA: Use this link instead and bypass all the cards...much better and no rush.

TINA: Hope you are around, because you will probably have to act fast on this if you are interested. Above is a link to an e-card site....on the far right of the first frame is a link to a screensaver site that uses Hubble images in succession as your screensaver. Thought you might like to see that.

Cakes? Did someone mention cakes? Take a look at the page listed above. You've seen the first ones, but scroll to the bottom to see my daughter Kristin and grandson Stephen at his birthday bash last week (in Arizona).
Kris made the cake, and he loved it!
My wife does cakes also, taught Kris. She does wedding, birthday, etc etc, but has slowed it down over the past few years. It's lots of work!

Every day I learn something about something else I have in common with you guys.

HALLEE: I do cakes too! I have three weddings under my belt and innumerous birthdays/anniversaries/graduations and one bah mitvah.

My husband is a pisces.

I loved "The Hustler" and agree that it is one of the best films ever. GS: Did you see/like/hate "Texasville"? It was based on a Larry McMurtry book. Cybill Shephard and Jeff Bridges played in it.

HEATHER: I was hoping you would show up in chat last night, sorry you couldn't make it in.

back later

Hey guys!

How are you everyone? Whats new? I am back... again!
I feel so bad about comming and leaving all the time.. I know it is not very nice, but I'll try to stay here a long time this time ;-).

So whats new everyone?

HEATHER: Actually, on the side to make a little extra money, I decorate cakes and make little fancy deserts. Wedding cakes - birthday cakes - whatever. SOOO - I shall bring the cake.

HOP: What might you be getting?

Someone said they were a pices whose birthday I did not have written down. Who was it?

Hallee

Litter,
Fast Eddie Belsen was the title character played by Paul Newman in The Hustler, one of the great black and white films of all ages. He played the same character twenty years later in The Color of Money. In color the character and the story had none of the gritty visuality of the exteriors in the original, or the realism of the pool hall interiors. I know this is not the question you asked, but you know how I will go on about films.

Rosemary,
Your eye is sharper than mine today. I read that line of Debra’s "I would write a sex scene but I have never really done it before." I must be getting so used to the instant edit feature I have developed from reading too many posting boards that I correct things without thinking about them. On other boards people often post corrections to typos and mispellings that I didn’t catch, and I have to look back to find out that I read it as though it was correct. Of course, Debra was just being a bit ambiguous rather than incorrect.

Trudy,
Cold Stream is not on the map. It actually has a different name. It is a bit east of Houlton, Maine and not too far from a bigger town. My mother’s family always called it Cold Stream beacause of a river that runs through it which for reasons I don’t understand is cold year round. The town is so tiny that when we went there in June of ’97 we wandered around in the main street in the middle of a weekday afternoon and no car came by to make us move. I remember wondering why they bothered to pave the street. Quite a distinction, to have more trees than people, The Maritimes are a national treasure of Canada in and of themselves. They have geat natural beauty. I would not bemoan the lack of a big city. Actually, I think we have more trees on Cape Cod than people, but we have a lot of small trees. I never counted them.

Hordwa,
Would you believe I just read the paper that came with a prescription I have been taking for a few years, and among a long list of things it mentions that if a prolonged and painful erection occurs, see your physician immediately. I never knew blood pressure medicine could do that. Can you imagine the girl at the desk when you call in. "What do you want to see the doctor for, sir?"

"Well, I have this boner. It won't go away, and it really hurts…"

GS

The plum jam was my Grandmother's infamous recipe.

Here are a few more...

...perfectly putrid

'Plum Jam, Slightly Burnt' (a real label)

"I can't believe it's not curdled"

"I'd rather eat my umbrella"

"Did you kill it first?"

Scratched Eggs

Humbugger

Violent Onion Sauce

Leaping Flame of Flambe (Toast and Jam)

Shush browns (As in "Shhhh! Don't tell your brother I burnt the hash browns!")

Lugnuts and a slosh of battery acid

"Let's have cereal for dinner"....

Heather :o)

I've gotten much better with age. MUCH BETTER.

Lucky you, Jack, lucky you! Fish licence. Reminds me of Monty Python. He had a pet fish named Eric...

Cassandra - good to see you, late at night or not!

I tried with all my might to get into the chat room tonight and the darned page wouldn't let me in! Must have been at capacity. Chat room hoggers!
:o)

Sounds like the virtual banquet is coming along perfectly! I did some short order myself, Mark. Nice when all the prep is done, little bowls of chopped everything. *sigh*
I dislike most of the prep and love the nitty gritty of the mixing and heating up parts; commonly called cooking - on occasion called 'making a royal mess'. Once in a blue moon charged as a 'bung job'.

Night all
Heather


Heather

Taylor- Depends on your mother... My mother is also a creative spirit and she loves the way I write now. The sexy stuff especially...

Barnabas- whoops, I thought since your one entry ended with Edgar that you were he. Imagine my dismay. I had meant to say hello to you... not that I know Edgar. No offense to either of you I just get easily confused sometimes. It's a pleasure to meet you. :)

Hi all,

The skies are white tonight above me here in Albany. We're right in the stretch of the storm that's dropping 2-4 inches of snow an hour. The storm amazes me, as I sit here and listen to the woo hoo's of people playing outside. We're all pretty positive about classes being canceled tomorrow.I personally am hoping two of my projects get bumped a week or so away... procrastinator that I am. The clean-up on this one is going to be arduous (sp?) though.

Hello to Edgar, we haven't met previously, it's a pleasure.

Trudy- That's why I've kept him around for so long. Normally I trade in for a newer model at about 4 months... that is if they don't meet my standards. I guess you could call me a heartbreaker, but usually it happens the other way around. What would really break hearts is if I were to have stayed with the any number of people that didn't appreciate me. But my mother didn't raise no shrinking violet here. :)

It's so beautiful outside. I think people tend to forget that weather isn't malicious, it does what it does naturally, without thought or feeling. It doesn't keep vendetas... it's neutral. But if you really think about the glimmer of rain drops in the light, clinging to grassblades like dew... or the soft layer of sparkling white snow on every little tree branch... it seems a lot more on the good side... Guess I'm just happy tonight. :)

Next week is spring break for us, and if I bring my computer home you guys can expect me here a lot more. I may even be able to take part in the shortie for next week... hell, I might write one tomorrow for this week's. Just don't expect it until very late at night (when i can actually get webpages to load) though.

Allein- I've been drawing today, and I'll be doing more tomorrow, and then photocopying and scanning. So expect some mail sometime in the semi-near future. :)

Happy Birthday all you crazy Pisces! I've got two Pisces in my family, my father and older brother were both born under the fish. Both fit the profile to an extent, it's a shame I don't have the "drive and ambition" of my Capricorn birth though... maybe in time, as I mature...

'later gators, it's sleep time for me!

Cassandra

Before I go heres my thoughts...
Dont let your religious beliefs hinder your writing
ive recently read stephen Kings Christine, no need to censor yourself if its in the character's character...

but I still have one problem myself, i've stopped worrying about censoring and went all out, and boy did I ever, but one thing concerns me is what would my mother think of the way I write?

got to go now, think my paper is calling me... and the pen is burning a whole in my pocket
time to write

Barnabos: no im relatively new to this site, found it a couple of days ago

Heather: Sounds like a great potluck. Just wish we could virtually arrive on time ;-). If so, I would add two additional items to the menu in addition to our hot and sour soup. My signature dish, Kitchen Sink Rife Pilaff and, since we are going out diving tomorrow, I could grab a couple of dugeness crabs two or three or four to throw in a boiling pot. Seriously, one of the things I hope to check on tomorrow is getting our Washington State shellfish license so we can indeed harvest crabs while we are out diving. I mean it is super simple. Just reach out, pick them up and look at their bottom to make sure they are the right sex and species and then toss them in your goodie bag. Something tells me we are going to be eating a lot more crab this year.

Teekay: im from kalgoorlie west aus.

my thoughts on sex scenes: theyre ok if they fit the plot, but in most cases they seem to slow the story down...
except for the Harrison Ford movie Random Hearts, so boring a sex scene would've sped it up

Why I write: I dont know, I just have to, its become like a compulsion or an obsession...in a good way

And last night I think I listened to my muse and wrote for 4 hrs straight, and the 4 hrs sleep was the best I had in ages

Wow, the natives are restless tonight. Usually I am all alone this late at night, well except for Teekay who is actually in the middle of her day.

HOP: A hobby horse can be a rocking horse....but to me a hobby horse is a carved wooden horse head on a stick. My daughter loves hers, except for when she is galloping down the hallway and my son grabs the back end of the stick and she goes somersaulting over the horse's head. My son thinks this is dreadful funny until my daughter seeks her vengeance.

"Sit&Spin" is the actual name of the toy...it's right on the box! A round-a-bout is a small metal merry-go-round (carousel without horses) commonly found on children's playgrounds here. The children each grab a handle (6-8 handles),run around the thing and jump on after they get it going a good speed. I have been thrown from many a round-a-bout by over zealous boys who spin too fast. (The story of my life it seems...hehe)

Do you have teeter-totters? Do you call them the same thing? I love teeter-totters and I can still fit on those! I am afraid I would look like a witch riding a broom if I dared ride a hobby horse at my age. Hmmm. Nobody would see me in my own hallway though. My luck my hubby would grab the end of the stick and send me flying heels over head.

nytol

Okay, I'm not playing the pets names game anymore. I've only got about 10 internet people to send them to and I've already sent them out, but now they keep coming back and I just don't have the energy to send them all out again.

MARY: I haven't even gone to the site. I'm not 100% sure what I was doing. I think I was off to get you something to do with email. anyway, I've finally managed to get those windows closed. Probably when you left.

RHODA: Got the chapters -thanks.

That's really it for today - and I mean it this time.

TEEKAY: No wonder you quit answering me. How rude! Hehe, just kidding.

Hope you liked the site, but I must admit I was full of malarky when I told you there wasn't much missing from the hard copy. I don't remember all of the articles not being there. I would have sworn they were. Drat.

TRUDY: The market for really crappy poems is an really seedy magazines. Crappy poems seem to give those types of magazines just that little touch of intellectualism.
It was many moons ago. I am not proud of my actions, but I wanted to see my work in print and I also wanted some money for it.
they were nice crappy poems. Not seedy crappy poems.

Shouldn't the "sit and spin thing" be called a "round-a-bout?" Could this be a dialect word? Sort of like "tap" and "faucet"? I prefer "tap" by the way.
I just invented a saying "I prefer time on my hands then on my wrist." I never wear a watch because it always makes time go so slow. Anyone understands how I feel?

Heather
I know American's spell it "check" but shouldn't Australians (like Teekay) spell it "cheque?"
Well she's now spelling it the right(British) way so I can't complain now.

Debra
Plagiarism= downright copying. If I copy a Website design of ideas then it could be considered plagiarism, I'm not to sure if this is true or what degree of copying would be considered plagiarism but better safe than sorry.

Rob
Hello. Have we met?
Personally it all really depends on how much you trust the publishers, the other authour and your own opinion. If for example you know the authour does not plagiarise then you should have no worries. Otherwise perhaps you should ask for the authour's sample chapter as well since the other person is reading yours or tell them you do not wish for the company to show other people your work just yet.

Hallee
Now I get it....

Ramon
Be careful not to mix New Zealand with Australia (I don't care personally, I'm not native of either country) you never know what might happen.
I'm thinking it's because its a taboo subject that's why there are so many swear words on it. It wouldn't be a swear word if it wasn't taboo and it wouldn't be taboo if it was more open. But since it's a taboo everybody uses it anyway simple to go against the flow (I hate people who do this, going against the flow simple because it's against the flow).
"I am not a linguist. I am not a linguist. I am not a linguist. I am not a...."
You're just being evil trying to get me to guess. Now I have to chant the above to myself just to make sure I don't.

Oh good, I see most people like Chinese cuisine. I'm very Pro-Chinese myself. I wonder why....:-)

Mary
What a good idea. By the way, what is a "hobby horse?" Would it be a wooden rocking horse? Or the one attached to a carousel?
Taylor
Hello. Have we met? I don't recall seeing your name before.

Cassandra
Hello. I sure we haven't met.

Rachael
I hope Sebastian is alright. I hope you get this message after you have a good long recuperative week.

Trudy
Now if I can only remember what I said.
That reminds me, maybe I should ask my mother for her "hot and sour" soup recipe. It's probably different from what most people have because I have no idea what everyone is talking about.
The one my mother cooks involves throwing in salted and vinegar-soured vegetables, tomato and bean curd (also called tofu).

Edgar
Hello. Have we met?

TRUDY: Really? i thought first Australian rights meant they had first rights to it in Australia.
I didn't sign anything, but with the cheque they sent this thing about the first Australian rights so I though, but accepting payment, I was accepting their conditions.

MARY: I haven't got a clue what's going on, but I can't get back in, and I can't close the chat window, but the inside of it is hollow. Go figure.

DEBRA: The pet email. Sorry if it's abrupt, but I just copied and pasted it. No one made it pretty for me either. They just bossed me about too. :-)

DEBRA: What email? Obey what?

MARY: Really wierd things are happening to my chat window. And it was only after I minimised it that I realised what you asked for is my email address. Is that right? Have I gone all through this for nothing.
Maybe my modems overheated or something. I'm still trying to get back. I feel like Indiana Jones.

Mary,

Here is the photopage we were discussing on the chat.

Rhoda

Evening Writers,

DEBRA,
Really, I'm not trying to be mean, (I promise) but you need to re-read your posts before you click the final button. Do you realize that besides calling Trudy-Turdy, you told us you have never had sex? Now you have to explain all those children. And why your husband puts up with it.

Heather,
I have goose eggs. They make the most beautiful Quiche. It comes out very yellow no matter what other ingredients you add. They taste just like chicken eggs, but one goose egg equals three or four regular eggs.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to all it applies to.

Out of here,
Rosemary

Heather - You want me to bring something Japanese? I make pretty good Top Raman. :)

I had a good birthday. I went out to dinner with my family. We ate at an Italian place - they have great salad there.

Thanks to everyone who wished me a happy birthday. :)
*smiles*
Allein

Trudy:

Yes, you're right it's getting way old here. Sorry about the misspelling of your name. I meant nothing by it. I do stuff like that all the time. Ask Gariess.

Hallee:

Count me in for the Fettucini. What do you think 7 pounds aught to do it? I add garlic in the water when I boil.

Hallee:

Thanks for the emial.

Teekay:

Thanks for the email. I will obey.

Mark:

I meant that I sometimes want to write stuff that I'm not sure I want to write. I always figured sex scenes were on the top ten list. I think I might write one anyway because my novel needs one. I'd like to see myself much less restricted years from now but not feeling like I'm goinging against my beliefs at all. Sounds like mission impossible. Huh?
Also on the email. I'll send it back tomorrow.

Litter:

I have a Scottish character in my novel. Can you share anythng at all about Scotland? Do you know any prision's names or names of airports? Do you know what the police are called? His name is Duncan. Is that a good Scottish name? Or is it a less popular name? I'm hoping it can be compared to a name like Chuckie. You know it might have class on the right person but on the wrong one. Not!

Debra

HEATHER -- I make a mean peachberry cobbler, but I'm not much for baking. Now, onion pie is a very nice diversion, sometimes almost sweet enough to serve for dessert. I think I'll try my hand at a nice flan too. But my forte is poached chicken breast, with roasted garlic, seared vegetables and button mushrooms, served with homemade linguini and a mild cheddar-garlic alfredo sauce. Then again, I've been seeing fresh asparagus in the stores -- and an asparagus quiche can be a real early spring joy! Some of Mark's crusty fresh bread to accompany it, a salad of fresh greens and a balsamic vinaigarette, and voila! a meal fit for a middle-aged guy from Lisle! :-)

I posted another entry to Themestream yestereve -- a send-up I wrote a few years back, on Email conservation. Just ran across it in my archives.

Bright spot of the evening -- I was reading the fine print in a Viagra ad (nevermind...) and found the following:

"In the rare event that an erection lasts four hours or more please contact your physician immediately."

Oh my!
Oh please!

Oh!

Boy did it get busy here today....good thing I checked in again *grin*

HEATHER, took me a minute to figure out what to throw ... you'll have to check your markets for me! And yes I'll bring fresh rolls and fruit baskets to the potluck.

GARIESS, Never heard of Cold Stream but will check it out on a map...sounds like it's still a tiny littel place. We have lotsof thoise rural areas in the province but there are a few big cities too though nothing like Toronto or Vancouver. We've still got more trees than people!

DEBRA, hope your car keeps going in the direction you need it to, but I really think getting that reversal problem fixed is a good idea...it was funny to us for half a day but it was getting old fast so I can imagine having a full time car doing it!

OK all this talk of food has made me hungry...time for a snack then bed!

Night all.

Trudy

TEEKAY, first Australian rights means they get to publish your poem once then rights revert back to you as soon as they publish it, unless there is a time limit included in a contract. Of course, for anything, if you do NOT sign a contract, rights remain with you period.

And you always want to maintain rights to your work...you never know when that "crappy" poem may turn up on a greeting card or in some song...and wouldn't it be better if you got money for that than someone else? Or what about when you're famous and they'll pay you oodles of money to publish anything you've written including your grocery lists...you'll want to resell those "crappy" poems then.

Now tell me where is this market that accepts crappy poems? I've got a ton for them! *grin*

Trudy

DEBRA -- You wrote, "I would write a sex scene but I have never really done it before." Well, so much for that, eh?

HEATHER -- I bake bread. I have also been dinner cook at two Italian restaurants. The real talent there is in the hands of the preparation cooks. I do a reasonable imitation of a chef when I can take prepared supplies and send them out. I speak well with diners as well. Presentation.

I've been baker/prep cook/breakfast cook on an offshore oil rig, pizza maker, short order cook several times, Italian dinner cook, waiter, and (it all began with) dishwasher.

VIV -- See the previous paragraphs. I do very little in the way of extensive cooking. I'm the cook for our Thanksgiving holiday meal; that'll take a couple of days, we put out 20 plates. But I am habituated to it by now and don't have to think much about it. I'm really a glorified short-order cook. I like to walk in, get everything ready to hit the stove or oven, and get it all out on hot plates at the same time. Sometimes I make bread just because I like to, and sometimes I'll need to kill some time in the kitchen, so I start bread dough. Beyond that I do little prep.

HEATHER -- I'm Scottish, what else could I bring but the food of the Gods...

Litter! How could I forget to add you to the banquet? And Eddie! Sheeesh. There are so many of us in the NB these days!

What would you bring?

Heather

AND TINA! Tina and