Well this is turning into a week of self-analysis! It wasn’t intended to be, I assure you. And it isn’t even a bad thing today, just something I realized.
I received an e-mail from a reader today. It was a great e-mail and made me feel so sniffly and happy and Sally Fieldish…you know, “You like me. You really like me!” Anyway, the reader mentioned bookmarks and romance trading cards. I have romance trading cards coming out of the wazoo, but not a single bookmark to my name. On top of that, I haven’t even made trading cards for my fourth book. Yet.
I keep promising myself I will. I set a goal for the upcoming weekend. I will sit down and create the trading cards and have Grant smexiness to hand out! The weekend comes and I look at my computer with a feeling of dread. I don’t want to sit at it…don’t make me! Usually I can avoid it by telling myself I wouldn’t be able to concentrate with fat cat draping herself across the keyboard. Cause really, who wants a trading card that says Grant, Minotaur ziahosneiheohnioadmadnioaoineoadnemaw]? Not me. And that’s exactly what would happen if should I try to create with the Cookie monster around.
Yes, I could close the door, but have I mentioned she weighs something like 25…possibly 30 pounds? She’ll barrel through that door like Chuck Norris and his roundhouse kicks. Bam! The door’s down and in she comes, belly swaying, eyes squinted, and a purr rumbling out of her throat. No. I don’t live in fear of my cat clawing my eyes out…I live in fear of her accidentally smothering me in my sleep. And it would be an accident. Cookie’s all about love, not war.
I’m well aware I moved off from the topic at hand, but that’s what slackers do. When asked why they haven’t done something, they wave their arms in the air yelling, “OMG, did you see the size of that spaceship? It was huge! I bet it’s bigger than the Enterprise! I bet there’s some smexy men on there. We should check it out.” And by the time you realize the spaceship is actually a mini-van filled with kids on the way to a soccer game, you forget what you originally asked. It’s a talent all slackers have.
I swear I will sit down this weekend…uh, providing nothing comes up, and make those trading cards. I promise! No, don’t walk away. I’m being serious here. Those cards will be made…they just might be in a strange language known as Cookienese.