McCain hasn’t been my favorite person in the world for going on about ten years now, so I was looking at McCain or Staying Home or The Libertarian Dude. It’d be the first time I’ve not at least voted against The Other Guy (like I have since, oh, King George I–bastid) and I sure as hell didn’t vote for ClintonPerot, the schizophrenic little freak.

So here I am again, having to hold my nose to vote. I already knew this, you see, but I don’t get much worked up about this stuff anymore because a) too old for all this bullshit, b) got other things to do, c) does anybody really think this is going to be worse than Carter?, and d) did everybody forget that economies cycle and we’ve been LUCKY for the past thirty years that we haven’t had anything like this happen when they usually happen every 7 to 15 years?

Repeat after me: ECONOMIES CYCLE.

That’s their job.

So, anyway, I couldn’t have broken it down better than this:

..

Oh, who am I voting for?

Obama.

Because when he completely fucks up, maybe we’ll get a real fiscal conservative in the White House in 4 years (and I am so NOT looking at you, Mitt Romney).

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I am resigned, although I have yet to make the official transition.

I have finally, irrevocably, inexorably decided that I cannot stem the tide of the use of “to raise” in reference to human beings. Much like the law of chastity, the use of “to rear” in reference to humans versus the use of “to raise” in reference to animals was beaten into my head from an early age and, well…

…I give up.

But I swear, they’ll have to waterboard me before I’ll give into “alright.”

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The last time I had the perfect purse, I was 20 and on my way to Europe. Got it at Jones on sale and it was a tan leather saddlebag-looking thing, tall, thin, boxy and with my number one requirement, a very long strap. About the size of a glass block, only longer and narrower.

Yesterday, I took the Tax Deductions to the Liberty Fall Festival where TD #1 indulged her type T personality on all the carnival rides (although there was nary a roller coaster to be had). TD #2 consented to go on the merry-go-round, but he clung to me the entire ride.

Anyhoo, I found the perfect purse made by Journey Leather (their link is under construction, dagnabbit). It’s a black leather saddlebag-with-pockets-looking thing with a very long strap and is obviously designed to hold every electronic gadget ever made.

 

Except…my ebook reader. Or a paperback. It’s not that big. So I can do one of two things: I can fashion a strap to go on my ebook reader’s leather pouch or I can go get a Blackberry, which will not only allow me to carry my library around in my hand, it will also hold my brain, let me talk to people (verbally or writtenly), cruise the net, buy stuff, do business, listen to mp3s, and take pictures.

Yeah. Don’t tell Dude.

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The Proviso release date: October 31.

Just wrapped up final edits, moving on to typesetting, then final proof.

Yeah. I’m skeert.
.

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I try to be literary. Really, I do. That’s what Smart People do.

I read Racy Romance Reviews and Read For Pleasure and Teach Me Tonight and I think, “Gee, these women are Smart. ” I am not that Smart. So I don’t comment much.

I read the in-depth reviews at Dear Author when they talk about worldbuilding and layering symbolism and use all sorts of literary techniques I learned but didn’t absorb for whatever reason. I read Mrs. Giggles reviews, wherein she’s snarkalicious but not (IMO) unkind–and I think, “Gee, these people are Smart.”

I read A Motley Vision and occasionally, Segullah. I read Theric and Tyler and Trevor. I think, “Gee, these people are Smart.” I am not that Smart. So I don’t comment much, except at AMV, where I probably drive the regular inhabitants insane with my less-than-suave sensitivities. Every time I post there I think, “That was a stupid thing to say.” But I let it lie because that’s who I am, even if I don’t like it sometimes.

And this is why I didn’t study English lit. I can’t analyze worth a damn and half the time, I don’t even know what the existing analyses are saying. I suppose there’s something to be said against a writer who doesn’t think about Great Works beyond “thumbs up” and “thumbs down,” but really, I’ve just come to the point where I have to admit that I like what I like and a good portion of it is crass and commercial.

Then again, sometimes the labels are deceiving. Perhaps I do like crass and commercial, but most times when I pick up a romance novel that intrigues me (mostly historicals), they’re rich and complex, layered and moving so that I’m still thinking about them long after. Sometimes they depend more heavily on characterization or on plot, leaning to one side or the other, but I really don’t care. When they strike a balance–well, that’s a lagniappe.

All I want is a good book to curl up with and a story that sticks with me a while.

But hey–I liked “I’m Too Sexy,” too.

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One of the characters in The Proviso has post-traumatic stress disorder. Pretty sure I haven’t blogged this. I don’t think I’ve posted it in a comment anywhere. I haven’t sought out any PTSD blogs since I started using the feedreader.

So how come my Google feedreader is all of a sudden giving me recommendations on blogs dealing with PTSD?

I gotta find another reader.

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I’ve referenced agent Lori Perkins before because she’s not constantly talking about how to write a better query or cheerleading constantly. YOU!CAN!DO!IT! YES!YOU!CAN! as if the odds of being picked up by an agent and, in turn, a publishing house aren’t astronomical. (And for a pittance, even.)

Anyhoo, today’s LoriPost What Does This Economic Downturn Mean For Writers? is even more sobering for those of you still laboring in the shadow of the faint hope of The Call:

These publishing companies work so far in advance, that when they decide to slow down acquisitions, they can literally just stop buying for 6 or 9 months. And that’s what I predict will happen here.

And yet the news with epublishing is exciting, the industry vibrant and growing, niche markets blossoming as readers find what they want to read that isn’t the SSDD the gatekeepers must buy to maintain their bottom line.

Perhaps it’s time for more writers to shake the dust of [sneer] self-publishing (otherwise more properly known as independent publishing) off their feet and make like the shoppers at Home Depot: Do it yourself. Yeah, it’ll take some time, quite a bit of money if you do it right (e.g. and *ahem* avoid the more egregious vanity/subsidy presses, pay an editor, hire a graphic designer), a complete 180-degree shift in your thinking and attitude, and a helluva lot of hard work (details! O, the details!) but you’re in control.

Freedom, man.

My mother once asked me, “Why are you basing your goals on decisions someone else has to make?”

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