It has to do with beauty...the external, the internal.
It has to do with Calabrese -- stubborn, independent, Italian.
Thank you all for your help. Tomorrow, I plot.
1. I am writing YA. The first book, "Perfectly Dateless" is out this Spring, and it's about a high school dweeb, who is a perfectionist, with weird, old-fashioned parents and her quest for meaning. In the form of a Prom Date. This is not the exact cover, but it's close enough for government work:
Okay, for some reason I have an old copy of the cover with my name spelled wrong. Ignore that. And take me for the professional that I am. LOL
So the book I've been working on, "Walking on Water" has ceased to be. I will go back to it when I'm able, but it is not going to be published right now, and that is a good thing. So I'm working up a new idea to discuss with my editor and I'm curious if you all have input for the kind of books you love. And please. Have mercy on me and don't say, Ashley, okay? Let's assume for a moment that I'm capable of doing something else.
The biggest issue is that I don't really read what I write. I read mostly non-fiction, but I just finished "The Sweet Far Thing" by Bray, "Dream Angus" by Alexander McCall Smith and "Amish Peace" (a non-fiction) by Suzanne Woods Fisher.
In my to be read pile is "Intervention" by Terri Blackstock, a few manuscripts for endorsement and then, I have to admit, I am really intrigued by the MacKenzie Phillips' book but afraid to read it.
So, a show of hands. More romance? More humor? More depth? If you could create the next KB novel, what would it look like. Again. I'm warning you about Ashley. LOL
Let me start by saying I don't think Justin Timberlake is a "catch". I think Justin has commitment issues and thinks he's all that. Personally, I find him charming, funny and very talented, but that is not husband material.
Next I want to talk to Jessica about "he's just not that into you." You know, I think things get muddled when you look like Jessica and you are used to having your way. You're not used to be told "no" and you sort of miss the signs. Jessica, he's been trying to get away for some time, and it's really true, if you love something, set it free. Justin is a hard dog to keep under the porch. You don't need that in your life. You're Jessican stinkin' Biel!! Have you looked in the mirror lately?
Justin designs ugly jeans. What if your future is trapped in some horrific clothing fest like Jon Gosselin to try and sell your hubby's brand? Do you need that? Tigers on your booty. Think about that Jessica.
Think about a man who is unwilling to fight for you. Men like this are too immature in my viewpoint to be worthy of chasing. So lick your wounds and be by yourself for a while and figure out what YOU love. Then, find an grown-up to share that life with you, not someone who thinks of you as an arm trinket. I'm done now.
Okay, I don't like how they called Tracey crazy last night on "Biggest Loser". As the impetuous sort, I have to say, that doesn't make you crazy. Just over-excited and enthusiastic. Tracey is like an out-of-control puppy happy to see you, that's all. And that makes her a fantastic person and someone I would love to spend time with, but I imagine she doesn't make the best weight loss partner.
I felt for her when they kept panning the camera toward her and she was like a petulant child. And Jillian? I'm going to suggest natural hormones, honey. You need to calm down. You will never control the universe. I know, I know, you should, but...
My favorite is Mo so far. Least favorite? The biggest one. She has anger issues that need to go or the weight is going to come back on.
So we've been in our house for a good month now. It still doesn't feel like home. I haven't been watching any TV, so I feel a bit isolated. But let's see, I've added my color (red sofa, yay!), my tsotchkes, my GIANT washing machine (a must with four kids), but I can't get used to cooking here. It feels like someone else's house.
So I'm here to ask y'all, any ideas on how to make one feel settled here? I was going to use my next paycheck for a bathtub, but that's a long story that probably is further off than I'd hoped.
I've been swimming laps. That's the only quiet I get. Never underestimate ear plugs and goggles to tune out reality. I like color, so maybe that's the issue. Here's my last kitchen and no, it's not going to look like this, but any ideas?
The only class I ever flunked was "Literature of the Romantic Period" -- which is ironic since I write romantic fiction for a job. I understand this. I didn't take the final. I thought to myself, I could go...sit there...spend two hours and flunk the final -- since there are no multiple choice questions in literature analysis -- or I could go to the beach. Take that same "F" and not regret it so much because I have a great tan. Ding, ding, ding -- the answer is "B" -- go to the beach.
So all these years later, it's come back with horrifying clarity that the beach was indeed the right choice. I went to see "Bright Star" last night. Now, I love art films. LOVE them. I will sneak away by myself on a Friday morning with a packet of Kleenex, and drink in the beauty of foreign films while I secretly inhale a bag of Sour Skittles. "Bright Star" was not one of those moments for me. I met my friend Kathryn at the door and we did have a great time, but it wasn't the film I'm afraid. Too many long-shots in drawing rooms for my taste. And like "Into the Wild" -- a book I loved -- well, I knew the hero died at the end of that one, too and 3/4 into the film, I'm like, DIE ALREADY!
My daughter Elle went too -- her second foray into the BBC world. She's also watched the full-length version of "Pride & Prejudice" with me and shouts "Mr. Darcy!" every time she sees Colin Firth. (Very cute in Mamma Mia, by the way.) Whereas my BFF leaned over in "Mamma Mia" and said about Colin in MM, "Your boyfriend is wearing paisley." Blasphemy!
So "BS" is the story of John Keats and his obsessive, kinda freaky love for Fanny Brawne (Lindon). Maybe I read too many brain books writing this last book, but I could only think of the many anti-psychotics that may have helped Keats. Make him a little bit more practical, so that he might have married his beloved and made some money on his writing. I think if he married her, it may have ended as a domestic violence story rather than an unrequited love/romance -- but that's just me.
I loved the dialogue in the opening of the movie, and the spirited, sassy Fanny and her beautiful clothes and peacock lifestyle in a brown world. No wonder Keats took notice of her. Ultimately though, at the end when the Keats' character is reciting his ridiculously-long and overblown poetry, I realized, I STILL don't get it. I love words. I love the poetry of Thomas Hardy and Lord Byron, but it makes sense to me. Keats just annoys me. I would diagnose him with borderline personality disorder (for the way he loved/then hated women) and call it a day.
At least I know now why I flunked that class. Why I would still flunk! I'd risk it all for another day like that. To some, poetry . This is poetry to the soul, and back when I wore a bikini? Well, no competition at all. LOL
So the article is about a mentally disabled mother who is raising an intellectually gifted daughter. The story itself is beautiful and I've often thought when Jesus says to come to Him like a little child, women like Bonnie Brown, are exactly what He had in mind.
Here's the part that makes me want to hurt someone. This is a quote from the article about the daughter Myra (12):
"She looks out for her mom in other ways, too. Not long ago, Bonnie mistakenly showed up to church for choir practice on the wrong night and a church staffer scolded her in front of a crowd. Back home Bonnie cried, ashamed, and Myra put her arm around her, 'Mommy, don't worry about it,' she said simply. 'It doesn't matter what other people think.'"
It certainly doesn't matter what other people think, but when ignorant, rude, pious JERKS like this, claim to be acting in the Name of Jesus, they need a good lashing. So here it is. If you're in the Pennsylvania area and you know this jerk. Or worse yet, you ARE this jerk, stop working in the name of Jesus. Okay? Do us all a favor. If you want to pick on retarded people, and make them cry, go hang with the Jihadists. Jesus doesn't need your kind of help.
If you can't do it with love, please refrain.