I’ve realized something rather disappointing. I’m a big fan of Laurel K. Hamilton’s Anita Blake series. Of course I am.. a vampire hunter… please. And sexy Jean Claude and Asher? Anyway, I cannot resist those books. They are like candy. The other series, the Merry Gentry series I just like. I don’t buy hard back, but I will buy paperback. This time, with the Merry Gentry book that was just released a few weeks, I am listening to the audio book. Smart like fox, I put my name on the hold list at the library, before they even had them in. Several people had already put the book on hold, it would take months for your turn to come around. But no one had put the audio book on hold. Foolish readers. So I’ve been listening to the book on my commute. In my car. And that is why, because I am listening, not reading, that I have learned something disappointing.
You can’t skim when listening to an audio book, like I have a tendency to do. I suppose you could advance tracks, but that is not the same as skimming, and I don’t do it. So, while listening, you hear every single word, every description, every conversation, you can’t miss anything. In doing so, I have figured out the formula to write a Merry Gentry book. It’s so repetitive and predictable, it’s annoying. Perhaps the other books did not do this, the first two. And I have actually listened to one of the Anita Blake books, “Cerulean Sins” and it did not follow this formula. Or at least I didn’t notice it. I have a hard time believing that I would not have.
First, take an object or event. You can combine them, for example Pru, walking into a room.
On delicate kitten feet, Prudence walked into the kitchen. She moved her head from side to side, her crystal green cat eyes taking in all that surrounded her. I watched her, from my kitchen chair.

Ok, good. Now I have to describe what I see.
She looked up at me. IT WAS AS IF[very important element] her green eyes were made of the brightest emeralds. A green to shame all other gemstones. Even the rarest of diamonds could not compare to the jewels of her eyes.
Now, is a good time to react to what I see.
I felt a shock all the way to the very core of my body. Her eyes held such power, such strength, I did not know if I could bare it. I wanted to look away, to break the hold she had upon me, but I could not. IT WAS AS IF she held my will in her paws, I had no choice but to obey her command. And I would be happy to do it, so strong was my devotion, at this moment, in her power, that I would move heaven itself to give her whatever she wanted. Her desires were mine, they were tied together with shining bands of titanium. Intertwined so completely that no mortal power could break them. Completely dependent upon each, I no longer saw them as separate entities. They were as one. A shiver ran down my spine, and my body trembled. I drew a shaky breath and waited to hear her request, her deepest wish would be my soul’s command.
“Feed me” She said.
Her is the important thing to notice. When describing things, you must use hyperbole of such exaggerated heights, it is as if your words could reach into the sky and touch the brightest star, not shrinking back form it’s heat, but absorbing it, drinking it in, and returning all that shining glory to the page. Second thing to notice, use “it was as if” constantly. So much so that I have begun to cringe, when I hear it come out of the narrator’s mouth. Sort of like when you notice a public speakers “umm’s,” their stalls, and then you cannot miss them. They distract you from the speech, and you swear if you hear him say “umm” one more time, your brain will split in two and a shriek of such ferocity will spill from your ruby red lips that they will shudder in hell, and they will write of this day. They day a woman’s scream thundered through the barren souls in hell, shook it’s foundation, and gave pause to the Devil himself.
Then you just take that formula and do it over and over. That way, the action can move very very slowly. Mix well, and bake at 666 degrees in preheated oven.
And yes, I feel a bit bad for the above. For I truly do enjoy her books, and I am very much caught up in the story of the thing. If I had been reading, instead of listening, I would have skimmed over a great deal of what I found annoying. But I can’t. I’m trapped. It was as if i were held in a ……

4:30 to 5:00 on a Friday afternoon is a very difficult time of day. If you’ve finished your current task, you don’t want to start a new one. It’s 4:30 on Friday! Best just to let it wait until Monday. Normally, I sign on to AIM, and Fee helps me through this difficult time. And I help her. But she’s not here. She’s been gone all afternoon, best as I can tell. Which means, not unexpectedly, that she sucks. I suppose I could spend the next… 26 minutes composing a list of ways she sucks. But, like I said, you don’t really want to start any new projects at 4:30, too late to finish them by the end of the day. Best to wait until Monday to list off the ways she sucks, right?
My god, she’s psychic. She could tell I was writing about her and her incredible suckage, and she emailed me. That is kind of skeevey.

Margaret Cho rocks. Truly she is better than the rest of us. How wonderful would it be to be as honest and open as she is.?
County Commissioner J.C. Fugate, of Rhea County Tennessee, is trying to outlaw homosexuality. “We’ve got to keep them out of here,” he says. ha! The reason Margaret is blowing my mind today, is her response. I want Margaret Cho to be Empress if the United States. And when she is ready to hand out punishments to people like Commissioner Fugate, I want to be on the Punishment Advisory Committee.
Interesting note, Rhea County Courts hosted the ever infamous Scope’s Monkey Trial. I think we are going to need to get Clarence Darrow back, to defend the gay public. Or at least Spencer Tracy.

I visited my plastic surgeon this morning. I have some very stubborn scars from my surgery a year and a half ago. Some of my scars are white and practically invisible. But some are raised and red. I have been using a type of steroid cream on them, and it’s working on some of them, but very very slowly. On others, it’s not working at all. So this morning, my doctor took a needle and injected the steroid directly into the scars. Now, if you picture a breast reduction in your head… well, don’t picture the surgery itself, it’s nasty, but the scars you are left with look like an anchor. The bottom part, the smile if you will, runs under the breast. Then there is a line straight up the middle of the underside of the breast. And on top of that line, there is a small circle. Guess what the small circle goes around? Essentially, what my surgeon did this morning was stick needles in my nipples!! Stop and think about that for a second. Really think about what I am saying.
Can you tell I am trying to convey the potential pain and horror of someone injecting something, via syringe into your nippular area? I am. But that’s unfair of me. It didn’t hurt a bit. I could have just left it, and not explained further. But the truth is, the needle goes into the scar, which has little to no feeling. And it’s very very very tiny. The needle. I didn’t even feel half of the injections. And the ones I did feel were not painful.
I’m too honest. I should have just left you with the image of getting shots in your boobies. Thinking about it, the idea of it, makes you cringe, doesn’t it?