Random Update

For those of you who are interested, we think we've figured out the 60 cycle hum situation with our Low Power AM station. The fab radio engineer took some time to look over everything, decided we needed a new power supply and suggested changing frequencies. Fortunately we already had the crystal for 1670, so he got it all hooked up, made some tweaks and we are now hum free! Yay! While we get our shit together, we're broadcasting from our Mackie mixer from The Raven Cafe. Very, very cool

I'm busy quitting smoking (my inner bitch is more outer than inner at the moment, but that's to be expected), working on the novel (difficult since I have an extremely short attention span and an even shorter fuse due to nicotine withdrawal), and am working on getting another writing related project off the ground. I'll be talking more about that as it gets closer to being ready for public consumption.

In the meantime, I've got some things to learn, pages to write, and will be taking a short break-a-rooti right after the Labor Day holiday thang. So, y'know, take care, have fun & happy writing!

Slightly Less Boring...Much More Strange

The hubster has a radio show on a local radio station (KJZA) called Prescott Arts Beat. Big deal, right? Well, okay. Thing is, his interview for last week fell through and since he was busy running all over the state of AZ for his day job, he wasn't able to get another guest lined up. When in doubt, rope your spouse into doing the show.

I feel a little dumb, but he asked me to come on the show. I said, "And talk about what?" Well, he wanted to talk about what it was like to do the newbie/wannabe crime novelist thingie. And I did. Bizarre? Yes. Uncomfortable? A little. But it was also kinda fun and we talked about stuff I usually just think about or chat about to other writerly folk.

Anyway, if you're interested in hearing me blab about crime fiction, sub-genres, what's hot, and the general banality of writing, you can hear the interview as a podcast. Here are the linky-links.

Part One, where I blather on about outliners vs. pantsers and other writerly nonsense.

Part Two, where I try (rather pitifully) to explain what a cozy is & talk a little about noir and paranormal crime fiction.

Part Four, where I answer Andrew's Five Big Questions and give him crap about needing an editor to cut down on the "boring bits" of his intro patter. FYI, there is no part three, 'cause that's the calendar section of local arts events & he doesn't include that in the podcasts.

So...if you wanna, it's there. Oh, and don't freak out. He used an old "Angie has bright pink hair" picture of me and I look appropriately silly/vaguely scary.

Zzzzzzz..Huh? Wha?!

My life is currently redlining the boring-o-meter. Ish. Typing a lot. Deleting and rewriting. Staring off into space. Washing dishes. Typing. Reading (3 books going at present). Glaring at the ring in the bathtub, unwilling to commit to actual scrubbing just yet. Wondering how long I can hold out before I absolutelypositively MUST do laundry again. Ho and hum.

On the other hand, it could be a hell of a lot worse. Y'know...stock market fall-down-go-boom (I'm too poor to worry about that, thank god), hurricanes, flooding, etc., etc. So I'll settle for a little blah.

Did get a chance to see Stardust over the weekend. It was really, really good all the way up until the lame ass last few lines of the movie. The hubster and I literally looked at each other and said "why the hell did they do that?" It wasn't a deal breaker, though. So if you like movies with action, adventure, romance, comedy and yes, evil witches and a unicorn, then check it out. It's worth the price of admission.

Hee Hee

Well,this story amused the hell out of me. Seems like even world-wide bestselling authors have trouble with drive-by book signings. I've read blog entries where newbie authors have been viewed with suspicion (or worse) when they walk into bookstores and start signing stock. Why a newbie wouldn't talk to the manager first escapes me, but it happens. Of course, if I were Stephen King, I probably wouldn't think twice, either!

Yay, Pulp!

My hubby loves me...he really, really does! While he was out of town last week I mentioned that I'd started on a Louise Brooks biography (it's gi-normous). We talked about some of the funnier bits like when Charlie Chaplin allegedly painted his penis red with iodine (he was under the impression iodine would protect him from STDs) during a weekend of general debauchery.

Anyway, that's not why I know the hubster loves me. No, the reason I know is that when he came home, he brought me a pressie, Songs of Innocence. I love it - the writing is really top-notch and the cover art is appropriately pulpy. Still, I had to ask him what made him think of it. His response? "When you told me you were reading that Louise Brooks bio, I knew you were running low on books. I've had that bio for years and you've never even opened it!" Well, he's right. I'm not abandoning the bio (it's really fascinating & Pandora's Box is perhaps the finest silent movie ever made), but I am totally digging having a new pulp novel to zip through. Yay, pulp & woohoo for fab hubsters!

Been Gone & The Meme Thang

Been gone for quite a while. Sorry and all that. All I can say in my defense is that a)life stuff has been extra nutty (nothing truly horrendous, just a lot of it) and b)I haven't really had much to say about nothin'.

The photo pretty much sums up the weirdness that's been going on. I was walking through the living room and heard a strange popping, crackling sound - almost like pockets of sap exploding in a wood fire. I go to the door and open it. Nope, no fire, no hail, just the glass in my poor door slowly and methodically shattering. All I can think is that the wood warped (we've had a hellaciously good monsoon season this year) and put enough pressure on the glass to crack it. Our repairman was on vacation, so it was almost two weeks before we could get it fixed. Sorry, I'm not a sissy, but I don't think I could have taken the door off the hinges and dragged it down to get it replaced. Besides, I'm not all that damn good at DIY involving shattered glass.

Over the past 6 weeks the hubster's car over-heated on the way to Cottonwood (I had to go pick him up), been in an auto accident (not his fault & no one got hurt), had a tire blow-out on the highway just outside of Phoenix (this was just yesterday), gotten a screw puncture in the replacement tire (today), and spent an insane amount of time out of town for work shit (ongoing). I had to call the plumber for the kitchen sink and damn near had a flood a few weeks later when (the night before the 4th of July) the water hose to the ice maker developed a pin-hole leak & the connection to the water pipe in the wall went ka-blooey. Fortunately, our neighbor's brother was visiting & he's a plumber. That one got fixed for the price of a 12-pack of beer. The radio transmitter is up, but has a 60 cycle hum that we haven't been able to locate because of aforementioned monsoons - you really wanna be up on a roof clutching a metal rod when there's lightening? Me neither. A radio engineer (friend of a friend) is coming over for brunch & will hopefully help resolve that issue Saturday.

So, y'know, nothing horrible, but a hell of a lot of it. It must end, and it must end soon. So sayeth Angie, and it damn well better be true.

Writing went on the backburner, but has come firmly back into the foreground. It's going well, though not on my original timetable. Whatever, it's working and you'll hear no complaints from me on this front. So...moving on (extremely late) to the meme tag. Forgive me if my responses are a little on the cranky side. Cranky or no, they're more or less true - even if my glass has recently been more like the first pic than the second, much prettier and poetic one.



When the ubiquitous Granny J tags you, ya gotta give it up and do the meme thing. I guess this particular "Glass" meme (and no, I'm not talkin' street slang for meth) was started by a blogger named "Starbucker" with this post. I've been stuck, oddly enough, in literal-mind-mode, so this should be...in'erestin'.

1. How full is your glass?

Um, what? Okay, okay. I'll play the metaphor game. My glass is full, even though I can't always get the stuff out of it I'm looking for. If you'd asked me this philosophical-ish question when I was younger, you'd have gotten the snippy answer that I had "half a glass of water - not half full or half empty, but simply half." I had some notion that I was neither an optimist nor a pessimist, but a realist. My concept of realism and reality has shifted, and perhaps mellowed a bit over the years. The frustration of trying to get at the stuff in/behind/on the other side of the glass has not.

2. What kind of glass is it?

A metaphorical one, dammit.

3. What's in the glass?

Y'know, stuff. Mostly writing stuff, sometimes images, sometimes ideas or simply phrases.

4. Reason's for 1, 2 & 3.

Um...'cause I said so.

If anyone wants to join in, feel free to do so. Me, I've got some work to do and a house to clean before Saturday brunch. Here's wishing us all general goodness and that those pesky, trouble-making gremlins take an extended holiday.