What Happened to the Giving?

Kimberly MacCarron, mermaids, , , ,

by Kimberly MacCarron

In the midst of twinkling lights, sparkly trees and holiday music streaming through every department store in America, what happened to giving?

I don’t mean giving in the sense that we’re grabbing crap off the shelves before the next person can snatch it. I don’t mean that panicky feeling of buying anything because we have no clue what someone needs. And I don’t mean buying something for a “Secret Santa” gift that the person clearly lists the three things that would be sufficient.

This year I told my husband not to bother with the Secret Santa farce at his office. You pull a name from the jar, and that person lists three things they want in a specified price range. The three things are generally gift cards to their favorite stores. Then they pick a name and their choices are generally a gift card or a specific item. How about we nix that idea completely and just go buy ourselves what we want???

I’m not trying to be all bah humbug about Christmas. I seriously want the opposite. I want to do something that fills my heart with joy and wonder. Those are things I’ve sadly missed in the spirit of Christmas. Even with young children who love the magic of Christmas, I haven’t felt it for a long time.

When my daughter came home from school with her “Secret Santa” name from among her friends (price range $40), I was annoyed. Not because of the price. Not because I don’t love Christmas. It’s because they all want the same things from the same stores. And they already have the same stuff! I told my daughter that they should pull that money together and give it to a charity. That suggestion was met with something that went a little bit like this…”Whaaaat?”

I would much rather give her $100 to put toward sending a girl to school for a whole year in Malawi http://www.nbcnews.com/id/40558738/. Please see Lawrence O’Donnell’s website. It will make your heart soar. And with even less money than that, she and her friends could provide desks for kids who actually want them.

So, this year, I’ve requested that my friends DO NOT BUY ME ANYTHING. I would much rather pull our money and give to a deserving charity. Any charity. I don’t need anything but a warm feeling in my heart.

I bought a bunch of toys and cold-wear gear for our local community action center and took it to the school for a toy drive yesterday. It was the first time I was actually excited about doing something or buying things this Christmas. In a county where most kids are privileged and spoiled, what do they REALLY need?! I wish that all parents would step back and remember what the season is really about. I wish we could step forward and show our children what it means to give. To really give.

Okay. I’m getting off my soap box now because I have to go shopping. I need to fight someone for a parking space and then push and shove my way into some lines. Then I need to argue with the poor sales clerk who won’t accept my coupon on a certain name brand item. Then I’ll drive home, with my jaw clenched up tight, to welcome my kids home from school.

I hope that this Christmas we all search inside our hearts and discover the real magic of the season.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays,  and…Bah humbug! ☺

Kerri’s Favorite Things

Kerri Carpenter, , , ,

This post is just like Oprah’s favorite things episode. Except, it’s not on TV. And no one’s getting a car. And there are no people dressed as elves passing out all of my favorite things. And most of my favorite things aren’t really tangible so you kinda couldn’t get them anyway.

But other than that, it’s totally just like Oprah’s favorite things.

I love the holidays and thought I would share some of my most favorite things about it. Of course, there are a lot of aspects I don’t like about the holidays as well. Stress, spending money, stress, the song Christmas Shoes, stress… You get the idea. But that’s a whole other blog post…

In the meantime, please enjoy Kerri’s Favorite Things!  The Diva Kerr-ina Continue reading →

A Brand New Year: A Brand New Me!

Alethea Kontis, Denny S. Bryce, mermaids

Denny's MermaidsWell, world, here’s the announcement you’ve been waiting for:)! No, not that one. And definitely, not that one (seriously? seriously, I can’t believe you thought that!).

I’m getting a face lift! I know you sit there and wonder what took me so long to make that call? But another no, not that face, I mean Denny Mermaid is getting a face lift! or should I say a new avatar! Look below for the gorgeous new me, courtesy of Lee Moyer (the graphic designer, illustrator, artist extraordinaire) and our own friendly pond-hopping princess, Mermaid Alethea Kontis.

Can you believe it? I was hanging out on Facebook, and Alethea tagged me on a comment and that’s how this love story began. I haven’t met Lee in person yet, but after a few emails, a visit to his website, and of course, his permission to use this gorgeous beauty below, I was hooked. And my new love is here to stay!

The perfect Mermaid goddess, don’t you think? Alethea saw it and thought of me, and since these two mega talents are buddies, he agreed to allow me to use this fabulous image.

And the other fantastic news, Lee also has agreed to an interview here at the Mermaid Pond in early 2014. Look for that extraordinary conversation in the beginning of the new year.

In the meantime, if I used the image below as a book cover, what’s the name of the book, and if she is a shifter who dwells in the sea, who is the hero of her destiny? (And yeah, I’m going to write this book, too). Inspiration!!!! (And I think the story will be rather sexy, too:)! Yeah, that’s what I said!

Denny (PortRoyale)

Mermaid Friend Nicola Cameron Guest Post & Giveaway!

Carlene Love Flores, Giveaway, Guest Post, , , , , , ,

Mermaid CarleneHello Fishy Friends and Happy Friday! Today we are welcoming erotic romance author, Nicola Cameron, to the lagoon and she’s brought a pretty hilarious bit about her muse. Nicola writes in many genres including, wait…let me rephrase that. What doesn’t Nicola write? While her muse may have been on hiatus for most of November, it’s clear she and Nicola have a pretty healthy relationship most days! We hope you enjoy this funny bit. Be sure to leave a comment too! Nicola is giving away a copy of Storm Season, the first book in her paranormal erotic Olympic Cove series, plus a sneak preview of the first chapter of Breaker Zone (Book 2). Winner will be chosen at random from commenters on this post. Take it away, Nicola…

The Muse, She Can Be a Real Bitch

I have to tell you, I had great plans for November this year. The first two days of the month were going to correspond with the last two days of my 20th wedding anniversary cruise, which is a lovely way to kick off a month in any case. After that, I would get home and segue straight into National Novel Writing Month by finishing my historical erotic romance Behind the Iron Cross. If I had enough time left over, I would finish the first draft of Olympic Cove Book Two, Breaker Zone for dessert.

My first mistake was that I announced these plans on various social media sites. Have you ever heard the phrase, fate laughs when you make plans? Because that’s pretty much what happened to me.

See, when we got home from the cruise the Other Half and I both started up with a dry, tickly cough. Two days later we were stranded in bed with what our doctor later diagnosed as bronchitis but I suspect was the opening segue of a particularly nasty flu making the rounds. We’re talking fever, gunk in the head and lungs, muscle aches, dizziness, the whole nine yards.

In my case, I also wound up with a nifty case of vertigo that lasted for well over a week. Have you ever tried to write when you feel like throwing up every time you stood up? When you have to wear a sanitary pad because you’re coughing so hard you pee a little each time? When you’re so hot and listless you don’t even want to read (you, the person who would read in her sleep if she could keep her eyes open)? Continue reading →

Perfect Love and a New Release!

Carlene Love Flores, , , , ,

origin_69719394

I recently discovered the 2003 motion picture, Cold Mountain. What a beautiful and complete story. It has easily captured my personal slot for favorite all-time movie. I am in love.

But I have discovered a side effect. I almost called it an unfortunate side effect but I’m not ready to label it as such just yet because it’s inspired me to think and consider and observe. The deal is that ever since I saw the movie, I’ve wondered what it would be like to be loved the way Inman loved Ada.

The man walked miles through peril and impossible conditions to make his way back to a woman he barely knew. Four years stood between them and their last brief meeting whereupon they shared one chaste kiss and a handful of spoken words.  I used to oo and ah over a sparkly vampire who watched his sweetheart while she slept. I didn’t think it could get much more romantic than that. Now, Inman’s vulnerability and hopeful perseverance and Ada’s incredible devotion to him are what I wish for all couples in love.

And I ask myself, does my husband love me the way Inman loved Ada?Mermaid Carlene

Can our love ever be as perfect as theirs?

The answer, I realized very quickly, is heck no!

If there is one thing my husband knows, it’s that I’d be very underwhelmed were he perfect, were I perfect, were we perfect.

When I was in the ninth grade and hubby the eleventh, we happened to attend one of our high school’s basketball games the same night. I knew of my husband, but that was about it. My date that night was a senior from a different school. He was sweet, cute, taller, and older, had long bouncy bangs and he loved music and art. To my fifteen year old self, he was perfect.

It didn’t last long.

Hubby would later tell me that he’d seen us that night, me and Mr. Perfect, and knew he wouldn’t have long to wait. I asked him why and he said it was in the way my date let me lead him around the gym. That young man was very sweet, but hubby was right. We were out of balance and things ended quickly.

And then one day during a school earthquake drill, hubby walked up to me where I stood on a grass athletic field, tapped me on the shoulder, waved hello, and then walked away.

Um, yeah, I was perplexed, slightly irritated, slightly flattered and hooked.  It’s been that way for twenty-three years now.

I love the way Inman loves Ada. But I love even more the way Adrian loves Carlene. 😉

Do you ever see or read things in books and movies that make you wish and wonder what that would feel like if it happened to you?

Oh, and if you’d like to check out a story that’s pretty dear to my heart, my newest Sin Pointe book just released on Thanksgiving Day! Find Sin’s Haven (A Sin Pointe Novel, #3) here:

sinshaven1m

Evernight / Amazon / All Romance eBooks

 Cold Mountain photo credit:photo credit: Handerson Gomes via photopin cc

So…if I have an awesome Thanksgiving and it doesn’t go viral, is it still awesome?

Alethea Kontis, , , , , ,

Hello everyone!

How was your Thanksgiving, US folks? Mine was incredibly stressful, thank you. Oh, it’s all stuff I won’t discuss on the internet…you know. Suffice it to say that I hope yours went a lot more smoothly than mine.

In one way, though, my Thanksgiving was awesome.

Here’s what happened: The first day we were at the in-laws, Joe’s mom presented him with a handful of 4-5 inch tall comic book figurines. She had cleaned out something, somewhere, and despite Joe having no recollection of these items, Mrs. B was sure they were his. They were all posed for action: Wolverine, The Punisher (missing an arm), and Captain America.

I lifted Captain America to examine him. The stamp on the back read “1989,” which would have meant Joe bought these when he was at least 19 if they really were his…but they were his now, and within his power to redistribute as he saw fit.

“Can I have Cap?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said.

I had my phone with me, so I posed Cap next to the apple butter and snapped a quick picture of him to share with my online friends, with many of whom I had spent previous Thanksgivings and was currently missing like crazy. As soon as the shutter closed on Instagram, I had an idea. A brainstorm. An inspiration that would save my fragile soul from the impending wretched holiday.

Because…see…here’s the thing. Authors have this amazing superpower they often forget about: They have the ability to create entire worlds in which people can escape from their lives. And before that author is published and read by millions of people around the world, there’s only one person escaping from life in that world: The Author Herself.

I desperately needed an escape…and I had just found it. I would tell a story.

As soon as I woke up Thursday morning, I began snapping photos of Cap. This was the first one:

Cap — saving the world, and it’s not even 10am.


Cap — saving the world, and it’s not even 10am.

This went on — off and on — all day long, posting my triptych via my Instagram app (crossposting to Twitter, Tumblr, and Facebook). . I used Cap as an excuse to get outside and go for a walk — it was chilly, but a gorgeous day everyone else was adamant about wasting inside. This resulted in my favorite pic, composition-wise:

Turkey needs another hour in the oven…Cap takes this opportunity to get festive.


Turkey needs another hour in the oven…Cap takes this opportunity to get festive.

After dinner, Joe and I left the house again…because we were awake, incredibly stuffed, and Joe’s Grandmother needed a television. Coincidentally, a few places were having sales! Now, Black Friday is not a tradition with us, but this time I was raring to go. And so was Cap.

CAP IS NOT LEAVING HERE WITHOUT A TELEVISION.


CAP IS NOT LEAVING HERE WITHOUT A TELEVISION.

While standing in line, I had a chance to check in with the internet and see how well this was being received. There were a few “Likes” on Instagram and a few replies on Twitter. Tumblr didn’t really give a crap.

Facebook, however, had exploded with comments…and these comments went on for a couple of days. Turns out, Cap wasn’t just saving my Thanksgiving…he was saving a lot of other people’s as well. And as those were people I care about, it made the result all the sweeter.

When all was said and done, did the internet remember an American superhero experiencing the trials of American Thanksgiving? No. They remembered a guy who got onto a plane and tweeted a fight with a woman that degraded into passing notes with foul language and a slap at the gate. Even better, this scenario NEVER HAPPENED. Just yesterday, the guy admitted it was all fake.

My fun little story didn’t get retweeted by Joss Whedon or Stan Lee. Marvel wasn’t banging my door down with a picture book deal, and I wasn’t picked up by BoingBoing or io9. Instead, some rude ABC Producer’s fake tweets got attention in every major news outlet, because–literally–at the end of the day, the sensational scandal won out. It always has, and it always will. I have to say, I was disappointed in America that day. Cap was too.

But in my magical little corner of the world, I made my friends smile. That’s what started me on this strange career, and that’s why I’ll stay on this path for the rest of my life. I am a Jedi who will continue to put good things out into the world. I will fight for the Goody Two Shoes and the Mary Sues…and Cap will back me up every time.

So…how was your Thanksgiving?

To see the full album of "Caps Best Thanksgiving Ever," click here: http://www.tumblr.com/search/capsbestthanksgivingever

Cap’s Best Thanksgiving Ever

To see the full album of “Cap’s Best Thanksgiving Ever,” click here: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151730393112085.1073741834.709582084&type=1&l=2cf1d1cee4

For those on Tumblr: http://www.tumblr.com/search/capsbestthanksgivingever (start at the bottom)

 

NaNo for you, but NoNo for me

mermaids, Motivation, Susan Jeffery, Writing

Susan-Mermaid-avatarThat’s right.  I didn’t do NaNo this year.  The final days of last November brought on a sly, simmering uneasiness about my health.  It was a feeling I couldn’t quite shake, but knew I ignored it at my own peril.  Yes, nineteen years with the unpredictable and unforgiving disorder of MS have taught me to respect my intuition – if you’ve got the shakes, Susan, for God’s sake slow down.  And, if you know me, I’m an all-in or a who-cares kind of girl, and I felt it unwise to  subject myself to another month of NaNo stress.  Writing is meant to be fun.  Why spoil it with another trip to physical therapy?

Instead, I embarked on an entirely different type of insanity.  One where *I* was making the rules (sort of).  In fact, I have been on a writing hiatus this month in order to preserve my sanity (what little I have).  And do you know what?  It sucks.

I’m taking an online course to earn graduate credits and earn the next level of fifteen hours so I can also earn another raise at work.  That is, beyond the yearly seniority raise that’s built into our contract with the school.  If I can look smarter by earning additional graduate credit hours, I get more cash in my pay envelope:

*Right.* Like I said, mo’ money.

So, I’ve been taking this course on using primary sources at the Library of Congress.  I go around hunting up really cool pictures that I might be able to use in my teaching:

How did the Civil War turn out for these two?

And not paying enough attention, so I find this, which I sent to my son.  He lives in Binghamton, so it seemed like the right thing to do:

Panorama of Binghamton, NY – 1909

 And he liked it a lot, since he recognized the landmarks (the town hasn’t changed much in a hundred years, which is part of its charm.)

Then my local writing group, CTRWA, reminded its members to enter the chapter’s “fun” contest:  the Marga-RITAs.  Chapter-only, it celebrates the best and the worst in our writing.  Categories like “most creative and anatomically impossible sex scene” and “best run-on sentence” help exorcise the misery of our writing “errors”,  while we celebrate another year of writing good stuff (“best use of adorable child and/or cute animal” is my fave)(you are so going down this year, Kristan Higgins!)

Do you have any idea what it feels like to find your writing, hidden away while you slave over primary sources in pursuit of filthy lucre in your day job?  It really stings!  Little gems of prose are discovered, just waiting for the tacky margarita glass that is the prize (I have two).

What say you, Mermaid friends?  Did you ever have to go on a writing “diet” to achieve other… er…. achievements?   How did it feel?  And, knowing how it felt at the other end, how hard was it to get back into the writing swing of things?

Enquiring minds want to know!  SusanMermaid

 

 

Racing Like a Snail

mermaids,

Today, I’d like to talk about a little snail named Turbo. (And yes, if this is sounding familiar, then it probably is. I am referring, of course, to the Dreamworks movie, Turbo, which released this summer. I apologize in advance for any spoilers I am about to give, but pintipsince this is a kids’ movie, I hope you’ll forgive me.)

Turbo is a snail who dreams of speed. In fact, his dearest wish is to race in the Indy 500, as crazy as that sounds. But it’s not so impossible, after all. Turbo gets into the engine of a drag racer, and his body is infused with nitrous oxide. Presto! All of a sudden, he’s super-duper “turbo” fast. Blue-streak lightning fast. Upwards of 200mph, qualifying for the Indy-500 fast. Just as he is about to win the race, however, his powers desert him, and he must inch his way to the finish line with his own snail-intrinsic abilities.

My son LOVED this movie. And I loved it, too, but for different reasons. It was cute to see a character yearn for something for which he is so absolutely unqualified. Exciting to witness his transformation with the receipt of his super powers. And satisfying to know that it was the abilities he had all along that allowed him to prevail.

Sometimes, in this high-speed world of publishing, it can be easy to feel like a snail. An ordinary, garden-variety writer, Theo, wanting desperately to succeed as big bad author, Turbo. Super powers, in the form of a 200 mph contract or a coveted award or mega sales, seem to be all we need in order to succeed.

Unfortunately, we’re not cartoon snails in a movie, so we can’t expect these powers to appear magically in our laps. So what, then, is a writer to do?

Believe in our own intrinsic abilities, of course! Inch, after slow painstaking inch, word after slow painstaking word…and maybe one day, we, too, will realize we never needed those super powers, after all.

Or so we can dream. Right?

Have you seen Turbo? Thoughts? If not, what movies have you seen lately that have inspired you?

Trusting Your Innards at 40,000 Feet

mermaids

So there I was, gliding 40,000 words into my WIP when bam!  Nope, it wasn’t a bird hitting my rudder.  It was the realization that I didn’t have an external plot.  Okay, so to be fair, it’s not that I didn’t have one per se.  I did.  It just sucked big dinosaur eggs.  I’m a plotter by trade and that nagging little feeling I had when developing my GMC, character arcs and plot points, that the external plot was less than turgid (hee, hee)… well, I should have listened to it.  But instead, whether spurred by laziness or cowardace, I pushed forward.  For a while, all was going well.  Until I got to the dreaded middle.  I can’t exactly say it was sagging.  It just wasn’t defying gravity.  Not the way I envisioned at the teenage portion of my book.  But nevertheless, I muddled forward, still eager to convince myself what I was feeling and sensing could be fixed with a little tummy sucking.  I stumbled and staggered for a few thousand more words until I couldn’t lie anymore.  I was sagging.  And it wasn’t pretty.  At that point, I took a deep breath and looked in the mirror.  I had a few options.  I could muddle along, pretend nothing was sagging and continue to stuff my burgeoning girth into a dress that no longer fit.  Or I could opt for the Spanx route, throwing a few superficial plot twists in the hopes of hiding the bulges.  As I began to think of what contrived fiction I could toss onto my sagging body of work, I realized that at some point, if this thing were to ever get published, the Spanx would have to come off.  And there I’d be.  Spanxless, saggy and bulging.  What a pretty picture I would paint.

And so I began to think the unthinkable.  Re-write.  I reached out to a few folks to get their perspective.  Opinions differed.  Some suggested to move forward, finish and then edit.  Others thought starting over was prudent.  As I muddled my options, I realized that I couldn’t move forward.  It would be like buying a dreamy dress, four sizes too small, and vowing to go on a diet.  Been there.  Tried to do that.  Didn’t work.  But the thought of trashing all that work didn’t sit well either.  I still remember when I finally donated my dreamy dress.  It was painful.  It was only when I pulled away from Goodwill that I realized… duh!  I could have had it altered.  And so that’s what I decided to do; implement a few alterations.

I went back to the plotting board and this time, worked out all the knots I had lazily ignored.  The new (and hopefully) improved outline meant that yes, I would have to chuck some of the words.  Maybe even many.   But the innards were still there.  Story idea, theme and even the characters (although I have to admit, one of them got a facelift, complete with a new profession and motivating goal).   I just shaped the plot.  And you know what?  As I went back to zero word count, I didn’t feel sick.   And I didn’t feel like a gluttonous moron who should have known better than to ignore good nutrition and feast on the doughnuts of laziness.  I felt invigorated and eager to write.  I can’t say I’m thrilled to have discovered my sagginess at 40k.  Around 4k would have been better.  But at least it wasn’t 140k.  And I’m glad I didn’t take the easy way out by trying to put a wig on an armadillo.  Just like the proverbial pig in lipstick, I’d still have an armadillo.  Except now, it would probably be mad.  And saggy.

Shrugs, Smiles and Sex

Kimberly MacCarron, mermaids, , , , ,

by Kimberly MacCarron

As writers, we’re supposed to write what we know. Apparently I know lots about shrugging, smiling and sex.

If I do a find and replace with the words ‘shrug’ or ‘smile’, there would be a gazillion replaces going on. Now, the sex is another story. I don’t use the word much, but, boy do I like to write about it.

This poses a significant problem for me because I write YA. Teens tend to smile and shrug a lot. I’m sure they even have sex. But shouldn’t it be a little bit harder writing sex scenes for teen readers?

Apparently not.

During this month of NaNo, I started writing a paranormal adult contemporary. I’m about 9,000 words in, which totally bites when we’re way past the halfway mark. On the other hand, I started a YA book at the beginning of October, which I had trouble writing. I’ve gone back and forth between these two books like the fickle woman I am.

Yesterday, I got to the halfway mark in the YA. Want to know how I did it? I decided my characters would have sex. Then I wrote almost 5,000 words leading up to it.

For all you writers out there who are stuck in your manuscript: write what you know.

I apparently know sex. After all, I am a mom of five kids. 🙂 I think sex makes the majority of people happy. Maybe I shouldn’t advocate that as a YA writer, but, hell, let’s be honest. Teens go back and forth between being on top of the world and being in the pits. That was most of us as well at that age.

I’ve written five YA romances now, and I always intend for my characters to have sex, but it never happens. It came close–just about as close as possible–in my last book, but it didn’t happen. I do plenty of hinting at the end that it WILL happen, but I’ve never written a sex scene for teens. That made me rethink things. I shouldn’t be writing FOR teens. I just need to be honest in the story and write it that way.

I think this is what motivates me today to write. I am going to write that sex scene. And I’m going to curb the smiles and shrugs. Unless they’re really, REALLY sexy smiles and shrugs. Today it’s all about the sex.

What about you? Do you write what you know? Do you get stuck when you’re trying to make your characters NOT do what they clearly want to do? What infuses excitement into your writing day?

Off to smile while I write. No shrugging allowed.