Commitment

First off, I hope everyone had a lovely Mother’s Day.

I had a lazy weekend for the most part. I did housework, but I also worked on world-building for a series I’m trying to kick off the ground. It’s going to be cool and I can hardly wait to hear what others think about it because oh the hopes I have! It’s amazing what a little excitement means to my overall feelings of optimism. I’m not the optimistic type, in case you didn’t know. I prefer grim, stark reality to wishing and hoping for the best. Reality is me thinking this thing is going to tank hard and I’ll be wearing the imprint of hitting the ground on my face forever.

We’ll see. Right now I’m too caffeine deprived to muster up much enthusiasm for anything but sleep.

But that isn’t even the purpose of today’s post. Nope, today is about commitment. Something I think I might have a little trouble with. You see, I realized today marks seven years I’ve been at my present Evil Day Job. It’s the seventh anniversary of the day I walked through the doors and sat at a desk, not my official date because I started as a temp. Sure, things have changed since that day. I’ve been promoted to a position that has convinced several coworkers that I’m a spy. Which I’m totally not. I don’t have time for that sneaky bullshit. I’m a busy person, y’all.

Yet the more I sit here thinking about my job and the fact that this is the only company I’ve worked at for longer than six years…yeah, I’m feeling the urge to move on. Is it the seven-year itch? Or just a misplaced belief that the grass is greener on the other side of the fence? However, just because there’s an urge doesn’t mean I’m going to follow it. That’s where being a “responsible adult” comes into play.

I can’t just pick up and quit my job. I have responsibilities. I want to buy a house, become debt free, put money away for an early retirement. By the way, is 40 too young to retire? I don’t have a chance in hell of retiring that soon, but it’s a dream of mine. Retired at 45! How awesome would that be? I could write full-time, go to conferences…*sigh* Okay, so sometimes I find myself hoping and dreaming of things that’ll never happen. I’m a writer. Go figure.

Anyway, seven years. SEVEN YEARS. Working for one company. I shudder and I try to forget about it. It’s a job, not a lifetime commitment, right? I can leave anytime I want. Right? *whimper* Okay, so it’s probably a good thing I’m not married. I like my freedom a little too much to be tied up that way. Unless Gerard Butler finally decides he’s going to stop being stubborn and see Cajun is the way to go. Then we’ll see.

Meh, that’s enough rambling. I need more coffee.

Happy Monday y’all

I Blur My Line

I had a completely different song planned for today. Then I remembered this song.

I know y’all probably get tired of me talking about how much music means to me. But no matter what’s happened in my life, what I want to happen, music has always been there. It’s my faithful friend, my rock and my shoulder to cry on. Music never cares about my mood, but it affects it. It can calm me, soothe my soul, feed my muse and lift me up. It can fire me up, fill me with determination and motivate me beyond what I believe my threshhold is.

Today’s song is one that does all of that and more. It inspires me. Maybe it’s the moody guitar riff at the beginning, so simple and unadorned. Or maybe it’s the actual lyrics, or the vocals that reaches into my chest and causes my heart to soar. Whatever it is, I adore this song. It makes me feel both heavy and light, captured and free. How melodramatic, huh? But that’s what music does for me. It’s the most important component in my writing arsenal. Without it, I’m lost and unorganized.

When Corey Taylor of Slipknot and Stone Sour, Dave Grohl of Nirvana and Foo Fighters, Rick Nielsen of Cheap Trick and Krist Novoselic of Nirvana came together to celebrate Sound City Studios and performed this song together. From Can to Can’t is an amazing piece of awesomeness. At least I think so.

What do you think?

New Look

As you see, I have a new banner.

I’ve spent the last two weeks working with a designer who could come up with the perfect logo to represent me and my writing.

Since I began writing “seriously” in 2008, I’ve tried to find the right wording and look for my work. I started off with Romance with a touch of Cajun spice because everyone said you had to have a tagline. Can we say I had no idea who I was as a writer? This is something I think that new authors spend too much time on when they should be discovering who they are. It’s kind of like growing up. You shouldn’t make life-changing decisions at eighteen because do you really know who you are at that age? No. I’m thirty-(mutters something) and I’m finally getting into my groove and realizing who I am. That’s what it’s like being a writer. You have to find your voice, find your niche and then you can figure out how to brand yourself.

Case in point, after I wrote my first two books in the Veil series, I realized I was writing just paranormal romance. That’s when I changed it to Paranormal Romance with a touch of Cajun spice. Kind of like when I was in college and went from the Psychology program to Education program because I hadn’t taken a single Psychology class by my third semester.

After I wrote Immortal Love, blushing all the while because those characters were naughty, I changed it again. Erotic Paranormal Romance with a touch of Cajun spice. But really, that’s a mouthful. Bwahaha. *snickers*

Ahem. Writing for Ellora’s Cave and joining up with the girls in the Cabal of Hotness showed me I could write something other than paranormal. And to my surprise, it isn’t complete crap. I think. I’ve spread my writing wings and written two spoofs and an erotic romance for men and there isn’t a shapeshifter, Amazon or banshee in sight.

Hence it’s now…

Thanks to Valerie at Inkblot, I have a logo that fits me. A sexy demon woman (just in case people forget my roots) and some smexy writing? Oh yes, I lurves it. I’ll have to find that picture my mom took when I was 4 or 5…with my pitchfork and the maniacal laughing face…she should have known then that I was no good. Or is it good at everything I do? Hm.

Happy Tuesday, y’all. Be sure to stop by tomorrow because we’re gonna blow the roof off with awesomeness!

Nuthin’ But A G-String

If you’re not sure you’re in the right place or not…I’m playing songs that were misunderstood by people. The lyrics, specifically. Last week I talked about a friend’s coworker who misunderstood “Dude (Looks Like A Lady)” to be “Do the regulator.” This week I’m pulling my own embarrassing misunderstood lyrics from the closet.

I was a fairly…innocent kid when it came to music. I didn’t listen to hard rock or rap in my teen years. Okay, there was that one summer my friends and I memorized the lyrics to 2 Live Crew’s Me So Horny, but honestly? I had no idea what horny meant at the time. Looking back, I’m horrified at myself. Meh.

High school wasn’t that much different. Not really. I listened to classic rock, some choice alternative rock and country. Yes, I said it. I listened to country music. A lot. So I was completely unprepared for the question shouted my way during a parade. If you remember, I’ve mentioned before that I was a band nerd. I played tuba for eight years starting in 8th grade into college. Along with the drummers, I was part of the rhythm section. We were the ones helped the rest of the band keep the beat. We were also the ones who were supposed to be able “funk it out”.

Let me take you back to about 1992, 1993. I was a junior in high school. I think. That was a long time ago. It was Mardi Gras Day. My high school was marching in the big parade. It was bright and sunny, and hot as hell in my uniform. Lugging a tuba for 8 miles and playing it isn’t as easy as it looks. We stopped on the corner of Main Street and I believe it was Columbus. When this happened, it meant the parade king and queen were doing their toast. If no one falls off their float (from drinking too much) it usually takes 15 minutes to get going again.

I’m tired as hell. We still had another quarter of the parade route to go and I just wanted to get out of my polyester nightmare. The crowd was rowdy. Most likely they’d been up at dawn and started drinking as soon as they got out of bed. I slung my tuba off my shoulder and rested it on my foot for a break, chatting with the others in the rhythm section. A couple other tuba players, few trombone players and a couple of trumpets.

I looked around and this lady in the crowd shouts, and I swear this is what she said, “Play Ain’t Nuthin’ But A G-String, baby!”

Amused because what the hell kind of song is that, I look at a friend of mine and repeat what I thought she said. Michael nearly fell on the street laughing. Of course he had to share this embarrassing little tidbit with the entire brass section which then moved to the woodwinds and the drummers. Hell, the chaperones were probably even laughing at me. It wasn’t until later that I realized there was a song out there called Nuthin’ But A G Thang and that’s what the lady in the crowd wanted us to play. Yeah, okay. I’ll get right on that with my white girl rhythm.

*shuts up*

Now that you’ve read the whole embarrassing story, here’s Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg with Nuthin’ But A G Thang. G Thang. Not G-Strang. Funny thing is, I really liked the song after I heard it. Now when it comes on, I jam out. *Shrug*

By the way, I’ll have a very special guest stopping by for an interview on Friday. I hope y’all will visit to learn more about him!

Admiration, I Haz It.

The Olympics are here, the Olympics are here!

Sorry. I’m a little late announcing that, but I was too busy ogling my fantasy man last Friday to mention it. That doesn’t mean I haven’t been glued to the television all weekend. Friday night’s opening ceremony was great. I loved the way they made the history of England a massive stage production, incorporating England’s most famous authors, musicians, and historical figures. It was fantastic.

I also loved watching the parade of countries. My nephew and I were playing a game to see who could probably guess what sport each country’s flag bearer played. I was right most of the time. *buffs her nails* I also loved watching their excitement. Is there anything more amazing than representing your country in a battle for the medal? Each athlete is an ambassador to the world and they all looked thrilled to be there.

I’m not an athletic person. The closest I ever came to playing a sport was trying out for softball when I was in 8th grade. I didn’t make the team. I was a band nerd. That’s okay though. I’m not into running. *shudders* But I still admire people who push their bodies to the limits, who test their skills against others.

So yes, I watched swimming (even though I can’t swim), diving, water polo, and gymnastics this weekend. Was I the only one admiring the male swimmers’ physiques? I couldn’t have been. Oh and not just them but the men’s gymnastics teams. Hello, Louis Smith of Great Britain, it was lovely watching you flex and twist. What can I say? I’m an erotic romance author. Of course I’m going to notice those lean, muscular young bodies exerting themselves. Heh.

I’m an equal opportunity cheering section. While I will cheer on the Americans, I found myself cheering on Rebecca Addlington in the hopes she’d bring home the gold. The American, Allison Schmit won the silver, but I really wanted Rebecca to win gold for the Brits. It seemed fitting to me that she do something that amazing with her country hosting the Olympics. Hopefully she’ll carry it home with the 800m freestyle.

See? Normally I don’t watch things like swimming or gymnastics, but when it comes to the Olympics, I watch nearly everything. I can’t tear myself away. I’ve been this way since 1984 when the Olympics were held in Los Angeles. I was eight years old and I dreamed of being like Mary Lou Retton. That never happened, but I’ve been addicted to the games ever since.

I’m going to lose a lot of sleep over the next two weeks from the games playing. And my book coming out this Friday, but that’s okay. Sleep is overrated. Not really, but I’m sure if I drink enough coffee during the day, I’ll start to actually believe it.

What are some of your favorite summer Olympic events?

N.I.B.

I’m back! Well, sort of. Feeling kind of tender today, but I’m at least not sleeping every five minutes. I can’t decide if I was trying to recover from the procedure, or if my body just needed the rest, but I think I must’ve slept twenty hours since Monday.

But I’m here today and we’re continuing the acronym theme with Black Sabbath. I’ve been a fan of this band since I was a kid. Growing up, it was nothing for me to listen to Black Sabbath or AC/DC one minute and the Andrew Sisters the next.

This song is called N.I.B. or (Nativity in Black). It was remade in the 90s by one of my favorite bands, Primus, but I’m playing the original today. Next week will be the last of the acronym songs and after that I have to prepare y’all for a month of inspirational music. Not that kind. No, August will be devoted to music that inspired me in some way to write my upcoming release, Primal Song. I hope y’all check it out!

And now for Ozzy…

PYT

This month I’m having fun with acronym songs. There are a lot out there and they’re not all extremely modern songs either! Last week we had Harper Valley PTA which I loved as a child. This week, we’re jumping two decades into the 80s.

I’m sure if you’re familiar with Michael Jackson’s music, you already know which song I’m going to play. But back in 1982, this was the best album ever. I was six. I remember my cousin had this album and we would roller skate in her garage, or jump on the trampoline and sing along. Of course, we switched Michael Jackson out with Kool and the Gang, but that’s beside the point.

P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing) was a great song. I’m not saying it was better than Thriller or anything, but it was one of my favorite songs on the Thriller album. It brings back memories and every time I hear it, I have to sing along.

So enjoy!

The PTA

It’s time for What’s Playing Wednesday!

Since acronyms are so popular nowadays, I’ve decided that’s going to be the theme for our musical Wednesdays. Trust me when I say I worked hard to find these songs.

First up is by a lady named Jeannie C. Riley. The song is “Harper Valley PTA”. I believe it came out sometime in the 60s, which was before my time, but I do remember listening to this song a lot as a kid. Probably because it was one of my mom’s favorite songs. To be honest, I could see my mom pulling a tell all at a PTA meeting. (Which she never went to.)

So I hope this song brings back some fond memories for some of y’all. If this is your first time listening, give it a try. You might find that you like it.

And, lest you think I forgot, Happy Independence Day!

Fact and Fiction

So last week was the premier of Cajun Justice. I’m sure most of Terrebonne Parish watched at least the first episode because we wanted to see how we were portrayed. I had to give myself a week to gather information from other people and to compose my own thoughts.

First of all, a lot of people I’ve talked to were disappointed. I’ve heard everything from “Everyone is going to think we don’t have teeth down here!” to “Do they have to find the worst people to show?” Which is kind of normal, I think. Any time there’s a hurricane or some other disaster, the media gravitates toward the people who don’t represent the area as a whole. So yeah, that was disappointing.

Secondly, the voodoo thing. I know I’ve mentioned the gris-gris before, but it isn’t all that common (as far as I know). I’ve never met anyone associated with the practice, or witnessed a ritual anywhere but on television. However, superstition is a big part of the culture here. That part is true, or it was in past generations. Today, I wouldn’t say there’s as much superstition as there used to be unless it was passed down.

Next is the heat. Okay, they definitely got that right. I’ve been moaning about the heat since the end of March.

Also, while we do have a very healthy alligator population, they’re not in everyone’s yard. Okay, that isn’t entirely true. Where you live in the parish would dictate how often you would see an alligator. The closer you are to the bayous and canals, the more alligators you’ll see. Of course, saying that, the entire area is cut with bayous, canals, and drainage ditches. They may have exaggerated that part a bit, but it does hold a grain of truth.

All in all, most people I talked to found the show silly. I was able to laugh about it because I had my godson sending me text messages throughout the two-show premier, especially when the deputies found the paranormal investigators. Here’s how our conversation went:

Nephew: Ghosts!
Me: Cajun ghosts at that!
Nephew: Which is even worse because you can’t understand what they’re saying.

So did you watch Cajun Justice? What did you think about it? I’m going to continue watching if only for the entertainment value and the heckling I can do with my nephew.

Mother’s Helper

Today is the last day of the mother/mama/mom themed What’s Playing Wednesdays. There were a lot of Wednesdays this month!

Next Wednesday is the release day for my newest book, You Bet Your Banshee, and I have a special theme ready just for my heroine. I’ll let y’all know what that is next week. Nope, not letting the cat out of the bag just yet!

So this week we have The Rolling Stones. I’m not a huge Stones fan, but they do have some classic music that I can’t help but sing along with. There are some songs they came out with that I loathe though, so yeah, that kind of turned me off from them. “Beast of Burden” would have to be one of them and “Emotional Rescue” is the other. They drive me flippin’ insane and I nearly break something if they’re playing. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve always disliked those two songs.

But today’s song is one I can tolerate very well. “Mother’s Little Helper” is one hell of a cynical song and I’m kind of surprised it’s only been remade a few times and none of those have gone to the top of the charts. You’d think it would be popular. *shrug*

So here for the last themed day of Mother’s Day month, we have The Rolling Stones! (I’m not quite as awesome at announcing as Ed Sullivan.)