I keep forgetting I'm influential about amnesia.

I'm sure you've all heard of Klout, even if you haven't bothered to check out your own "score." If you haven't, then google it. I'll wait right here...

Ok, then. We all know what I'm talking about now. But can anyone explain what the point is? I get access to "perks" once in a while, but most of them aren't worth my time. I'm not big on giving free ad space in my social media to companies just to get a free product. I have to really like a thing to talk about it. Which is the most puzzling aspect of Klout, in my mind.

They track topics, you are "influential" about through your social media interactions. I can understand that. If you talk about something a lot, people might come to see you as a source of reliable information on that topic. What I'm most interested in today is how the hell Klout decides which topics a person is influential about. Get ready for the surreality, because here's my list:

• Jeans
• Chocolate
• Sushi
• Pork
• Cookies
• Horror
• Pudding
• Bacon
• Yogurt
• Books
• Writing
• Amnesia
• Shoes
• Conferences
• Justin Bieber
• Video
• Tumblr
• Cats

Quite a list, right? I mean, Bacon AND Pork? Wow. And what's up with Justin Bieber? Maybe it's the amnesia talking, but I don't ever remember saying anything (other than possibly a joke somewhere or other) about the Biebs.

Some of these I get. Like chocolate. And shoes. I like those things. But then why am I not influential about coffee, too? I mean, I write about coffee all the time! And sure, I post some things about my cat, so I get that, to an extent. But Conferences? Really? Is this because I tweeted something to Backspace a few times? I have no clue.

Do you have an equally bizarre and unsettling list of things that Klout has assigned to you? Post them below so we can all have a puzzled laugh about it.

In the mean time, enjoy this delicious pudding.

A Banner Day

Yes, so much has happened today, I feel I must recount the fabulosity.

First of all, I finally got a car wash. It only took two months after I was named "Dirtiest Car in the Lot" at a baseball game and won free car wash coupons. Little Red is all shiny and pretty again. The guys with the soap mops were impressed with the amount of dirt that could accumulate on a well-loved pick-up truck. I almost didn't recognize it now that it's clean. Good thing it's overcast today, because I would have needed sunglasses to look at it otherwise.

Just before the soap-mop guys started laughing at the quantity of dirt on my truck.

Second of all, Lulu went to a Girl Scout program about money management. My proudest moment was when she already knew how to balance a check book, and could explain how credit cards work. She won prizes for her superior financial knowledge. Huzzah!

So while she was learning about the importance of saving and budgeting, I was over at Office Depot doing the opposite. I finally replaced my wonky computer mouse. I feel like I've taken a technological leap backwards, because I've had cordless mice for eons, but I didn't want to pay $20 more for the identical mouse without a cord. So now I'm tethered again. We'll see if it would have been worth the extra money after I knock this one to the floor a few times and trip over the cord, potentially breaking my neck. Or possibly the laptop. Maybe I didn't think this through...

Finally, we made it to Starbucks at Lulu's request. The only kind of coffee she likes is the pumpkin spice latte, or as she now calls it, Ermehgerd, Permpkern Sperce Lerte! For the first time, I tried the salted caramel. I have heard people raving about salted caramel for months now, but I've been hesitant to try it. Now all I have to ask is, WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME? Salted caramel is officially my new favorite thing.

While we enjoyed our beverages, we perused all the pretty new cell phones. Our contract is up soon, and Lulu and I are already debating what kind we should get. Helper Monkey will use whatever phone we get him, so he leaves it up to us to make the decision. At least we have a few months to hash out our philosophical technological differences before we have to commit.

Also, still making progress on the revision/rewrite/WIP. Friday Night Write Club has helped this week. If you're on the tweeties, follow @FriNightWrites and the hash tag #WriteClub for support, encouragement, and camaraderie. Go on, I'll wait while you click over and follow them.

Without further ado, here's the Progress-o-Meter:

Words: 55,503
Pages: 173
Edit Page: 128 (Chapter 11!!!)

And now, I'm debating watching Iron Man 2 or going back to work. Ah, heck, it's Saturday. I'm going to have some fun. Work it is! :D

Voodoo as a Legitimate Response to Querying

I haven't written here in a while. At least it feels that way. I've been sucked under by my glamorous whirlwind of a life. At least I've been making time for writing.

So today I spent the morning helping the Girl Scouts unload and deliver a mega-crapton of  mums and pansies. When you're the lady who owns a monster truck, you get picked to help out with delivery-ish things.

A small portion (very small) of the mega-crapton of flowers.

At least all the flowers made me feel all autumny. I love this time of year. In fact, the only thing Lulu wants to do this weekend is go out for a pumpkin spice latte. I can't argue with that.

On the way home from flower duty, I saw something odd in the road. It was a black rat snake sunning itself on the pavement, coiled up and taking bites at cars as they carefully drove around it. I slammed on my brakes, parked, and fetched a stick out of the roadside ditch. I went over, Steve Irwin style, and moved the little (hah, like 6' long) snakey from the road. A lady pulled up behind me and put her hazard lights on, blocking the road so I wouldn't get squished by speeding rednecks. Hopefully the snake had the common sense to stay out of traffic. I'm now all nervous about driving that way again and seeing him smeared all over the street.

For those who don't know, I live in a rural area. Most of the roads are narrow country lanes between fields dotted with cows and corn, soybeans and goats. My entire neighborhood is one lane roads on steep hills and sharp curves. This still doesn't stop some people from driving forty miles an hour, or a lot faster out on the wide and spacious country lanes where I found snakey.

Anyway, I've also been battling technology for the last few days. I've dropped my phone twice today, once the second I got out of bed, and again at the post office. I've suffered two power outages that lasted just long enough to reset everything in the house and reboot my computer. Let this stand as your BACK UP YOUR WRITING reminder for the day.

And finally, the reason I was at the post office. After a conversation with my CP, the fabulous @FeakySnucker, I decided I needed to make an Agent Love Voodoo Doll.  I mailed the prototype to her. The idea is that when you're waiting for a response on a full manuscript submission, you pin the novel's title to the doll in a heart, causing the agent in question to fall deeply in love with it and take you on as a client. The logic might be shaky, but it's based on centuries of Voodoo tradition. And if you're rejected, you can just stick pins through the doll's naughty bits. If I actually gave the doll any naughty bits.

Keep in mind that this is a rudimentary prototype. Next time I make one, I promise to use pins, and draw a better pattern. This one took all of five minutes to make, which is why his arms and legs are so wonky:

Mutant Agent Love Voodoo Doll

Have y'all ever resorted to anything this drastic? Would anyone else be interested in an Agent Love Voodoo Doll? Would it help if I swore to make sure its head turned out round instead of pointy? Do you think I need to spend less time on social media dreaming up this sort of lunacy?

Oh, and the Progress-o-Meter

Words: 55,373
Pages:172
Edit Page: 98

Truly Sad Panda

Here in the DC suburbs, news of a panda birth at the National Zoo has been everywhere for the last week. We've all been on the edge of our seats for a month as Panda Watch 2012 played out. When a baby was born last Sunday, it was thrilling. This morning, the eagerly anticipated little panda died. It just breaks my heart.

Mei Xiang, the panda mom, must be heartbroken. That's what alerted zookeepers that there was something wrong, they heard Mei's alarmed cries. She's such a good mom, and after watching her care for the baby all week, it tears me up that she's lost her cub.

I'm sorry to share all this sadness with y'all, but it's put the emergency brakes on my writing. I absolutely can't write the novel I'm working on right now. I need something to cheer myself up. I will gratefully accept links to good news today. Happy things. If you have such things, please share.

I do have a Progress-O-Meter update, since it's been a few days since I wrote one up. Don't be too judgy at my slow progress. I took a break yesterday to read The Enchantress, which has been sitting unread on my desk for months. I supposed that qualifies as good news. I loved the Immortal Nicholas Flamel series.

So that's it. I'm trying to snap myself out of the sad panda induced doldrums. I think I'm going to resort to ice cream. Hopefully that will help.

Progress-O-Meter:

Words: 55,007
Pages: 171
Edit Page: 61

For Ever, Love Frankie

Hey guys and dolls, how's it going? 

Don't look so startled - I don't bite. 

My name's Frankie. And I'm just a regular guy. 

Well, except for the whole ghost thing, I guess. 

You’re probably wondering what I'm doing here. Well,
it’s pretty simple actually. Something is coming for my best friend Ever - something
I alone cannot protect her from. Regardless of how much I love her how hard I try. 

So I have to spread the word.

And I need your help to do it.

I've been a bystander for far too long, trapped in
this ghostly shell for the past two years. I've decided it’s time to make myself known and set
some things into motion. See, I've hijacked Amazon, Curiosity Quills Press, and blogs all over the internet to make my move. 

You're probably wondering why, right? 

Well allow me to be a bit more specific. Something isn't just coming for Ever; her actual soul is in danger. So I've decided to stay silent no longer. Word needs to spread. People need to know. 

Evil lurks in the shadows.  

To give Ever more time to figure things out and try to protect herself from the trouble that awaits her, I'm upping the publication date of our story. 

 I'm sure you can understand. I mean, souls are on the line here. 

So, with that said, EVER IS NOW AVAILABLE. Yes, you read that right. NOW. I couldn't wait any longer, so I did what I had to do to protect that stubborn girl I love my best friend, Ever. 

I had to do it. Some things are too important to wait for, and Ever is one of those things for me.

Now as you’re spreading the word about this new development,
take heed this one warning:

Evil lurks in the shadows. And not just any evil. 

It’s disguised as that slick talking, good-looking bastard, Toby James ... the new kid next door. 

Goodreads

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Ahoy! Tis my anniversARRy today!

Yes. I got married on International Talk Like a Pirate Day. This was unintentional. I swear.

No, our wedding wasn't pirate themed. We got married in 1997, and September 19 wasn't declared International Talk Like a Pirate Day until 2002. So. No pirate-themed wedding. But wouldn't that have been completely AWESOME?!

As it is, I am deliriously happy to have been married to the wonderful Helper Monkey for the last fifteen years. Without even realizing it, I honor September 19th all over my left hand. See?

Yes, that is Captain Jack Sparrow next to my wedding rings.

I've got pirates and my wedding all over the place. I never take those rings off (unless I'm making meatballs, or scrubbing toilets, or, you know, stuff like that. You know how hard it is to pick cookie dough out of Captain Jack's beard? Eww).

In preparation for this evening's festivities, Helper Monkey and I went out to run a few errands. We tried to get the truck washed, but the car wash place was closed. So we went on up to the grocery store for junk food instead. Now we have a celebratory pecan pie for dessert tonight, so that was definitely worth the drive.

We also went to the liquor store for something special to drink. While there, I saw some strange things. This included:

Donut and buttered popcorn flavored vodka. This strikes me as jarringly wrong. There were other alcoholic atrocities going on at the store, but this was the most...disturbing. I mean, donut sounds pretty good, but buttered popcorn? To drink? Ugh. What the hell do you mix it with?

So we got some normal Sam Adams Octoberfest beer. No weirdo dessert vodka for us.

One other strange tidbit before I sign off. I've had some suncatchers up on my front porch glass door since we moved here, about 6 1/2 years ago. Lulu made them when she was like 5 or something. For the last week or so, there's been one crazy hummingbird that comes and checks out the flower-shaped one nearly every day. I have seen him multiple times bumping his little beak up against the window, as if the flower were real and full of yummy nectar. Poor little guy. He's too quick to get a picture of, but I'll keep trying.

And no Progress-O-Meter for the last few days, because I've been wrapped up in CP heaven, reading the final draft of a brilliant R&R. Tomorrow it's back to work for me! In the mean time, hoist yer grog before I make ye walk the plank, ya scurvy cur! :D

Gratuitous Fun from the Maryland Renaissance Festival

We had a blast today in 1514. We saw Macbeth performed in 19 minutes (with an under 20 minute guarantee), hysterical performers dueling with swords, and an elephant! I never did get that glass of mead, but they make it at the winery near my house, so it's not like I'm never going to get any ever again. They had every type of food you can imagine served on a stick. Except soup, but that was served in an edible bowl made from bread. Cheesecake on a stick! Omnomnomnom!

So here's a little peek at our day. Enjoy!

Henry the VIII and Catherine of Aragon. Lovely.

I covet this hat. This is Helper Monkey's arms. He was a very helpful monkey today.

See, this hat is perfect for me.

This is a t-shirt that I was going to buy for Helper Monkey. He must have this. I was out of cash by that point, and I wasn't about to wait in a 50-person-deep line to use the ATM. If anyone knows where I can buy this shirt, I will love you forever. Thank you!

Lulu perusing the selection of Dragon Snot. Seriously, that's what the sign says. Note her fez, because fezzes are cool.

Speaking of cool, I wore my TARDIS t-shirt, and had about a thousand compliments. I've never gotten more than one or two remarks in a day on it anywhere else. This proves once and for all that I am truly a geek, and at home amongst the nerdiest people. I'm pleased. We're a nice bunch, if a little odd.

The main event is the jousting. For those who didn't know, jousting is Maryland's official state sport. Weird, huh.

The main culinary event. Best. Food. Ever. So not kidding.

So there you have it, the highlights of our day. :) Hope y'all had a nice weekend, too!

A Puff Piece for Entertainment Purposes

Subtitled: Two essays because Twitter just won't suffice sometimes. Read one, read both, just enjoy a peek into my sophisticated and glamour-filled life.

Essay 1: Squirrel Wars

I was lucky enough to step outside in time to watch two squirrels dueling it out over a hollow spot in our half-dead oak tree. I couldn't tell there were two squirrels at first, since they were both trying to cram themselves into a little nook. I watched them duke it out for like ten minutes.

They periodically stopped bickering in order to give me the Squirrel Stare of Doom. I captured a few choice shots.

That lady's staring at us.

She's still there. I gotta plan.

We'll fight over the equally tiny, nearly identical nook ten feet higher up the tree!

 They were still at it when I just checked on them. Squirrels. Highly entertaining.


Essay 2: My Adventures With Hair Dye.

Every once in a while, I get the bright idea to completely change my hair color. Sometimes it goes white, sometimes pink, purple, red, blue, etc. Lately, it's been black/blue. This requires a lot of maintenance on my strawberry blonde-ish hair. Today was maintenance day.

It all started out innocently enough. I remembered to take off my t-shirt so I wouldn't have to pull it over a head covered with hair dye when it was time to rinse it out. I also remembered to get my black robe, which shrugs off black hair dye for obvious reasons. Everything was set and ready to go.

It was all going so well, and then the squirty bottle decided to rebel. Next thing I knew, everything within ten feet of me was spattered with black/blue dye, including parts of myself that I didn't want to be bluish-black. Like my entire right ear. And my shoulder, right arm, parts of my back, half my face, the sink, the wastebasket, the toilet seat, and the floor. My white shower curtain was miraculously spared, but everything else is disasterized.

I scrubbed most of the dye off my ear, face, shoulder, arm, and back, but everything else is speckled blue/gray. This made me grumpy. I finished with the dye, cleaned up, and huffed off to the living room to wait. That's where the real trouble began.

I got caught up playing a game with Lulu, and didn't realize how quickly time was passing. Next thing I knew, more than double the length of time I was supposed to wait before rinsing had passed. I feel like a ding-dong, but I don't think I did any permanent harm. It just worries me when the packaging has warnings to the effect that sealing the mixed dye in the container could cause it to explode. I kept waiting for my hair to explode while I ran to the bathroom to rinse.

Everything turned out for the best. Other than the fact that I am now convinced it is impossible to take a remotely decent picture of myself. Please, don't be frightened. I don't bite.

Trust me, this is the least frightening photo of the lot. I am apparently quite distressing to gaze upon.

Progress-O-Meter update: It's been a hectic couple of days. Between the pitch madness #PitMad on Thursday, and all the GUTGAA craziness yesterday, as well as girl scout meetings and errands last night, I've been a little distracted. Not to mention the fact that I was awakened by a mild earthquake at ten to six this morning. It's been slow going in the editing department. Tomorrow will not improve. I'm going to the Maryland Renaissance Festival, so I'll be gone most of the day. I'll tweet anything interesting while we're there. It's my only chance to watch our official state sport: Jousting. I kid you not.

Words: 54,829
Pages: 171
Edit Page: 26

Okay, everyone. I want your best anecdotes today. I need some cheering up after the week we've had. What's the most entertaining thing that's happened to you today?

Crazy is ABSOLUTELY NOT as Crazy Does

I am stunned and appalled about the attack on literary agent Pam van Hylckama yesterday by someone the police believe is an author who queried her and was rejected. If you are in any way involved in the writing and publishing community and miraculously have not heard about this, you can read about the incident here and here.

I have seen an online outpouring of good wishes for Pam and her family, and for her little dog who bit the attacker and scared him off. That is a GOOD DOG! Sorry. The dog part of the story makes me go all verklempt.

I've seen some great responses online, including the suggestion that a database be created that shames authors into not sending hate mail to agents and editors who don't want to represent them. It is a business decision whether an agent wants to take you on as a client or not. It is not a personal attack on you. It does not require a response of any kind, especially a hate-filled one. End of story.

I think a database like that might be useful. Harry Connolly summed up the idea pretty well on his blog here. It's a sad world we live in when agents (and anyone else, for that matter) are used to getting threatening or hateful mail. When a real live red-alert-level threat comes through, it's not a warning sign that law enforcement should get involved immediately. If authors knew that their response to any rejection might be publicly posted, they might think twice before firing off an angry, heat-of-the-moment retort. That way, any harassment that did come through could be considered a real and actionable threat.

My thinking is also this: before an agent responded with a polite rejection letter, they could google up the author's name on the database, and find out if they are the type to respond poorly to rejection. Your name is on the list? Maybe as a repeat offender? Then no response at all for you. Life is too short to deal with that kind of crazy.

Speaking of crazy, that's been one part in all of this that really gets to me. That word has been bandied about a lot over the last 24 hours. The perpetrator was described as "crazy." I frequently hear jokes about how all authors are a little crazy. I even participate in them. But I feel a little entitled to make crazy jokes. You see, I, myself, am crazy. I got a doctor's note and everything.

I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in 1997. Through a lot of hard work, I live a relatively normal life. Writing is the main thing that keeps me stable, hence the title of my blog here. I write the bad stuff out of my head and on to the page. I have a feeling a LOT of writers out there are doing something similar.

I sometimes make light of my condition, because I've found that some people find it upsetting. When they see I'm not suicidal, and that I don't look or act like a crazed monster, it makes it easier to talk about. I want people to be open-minded when it comes to mental illness. I never want anyone to avoid seeking treatment because they are frightened or ashamed. Humor helps.

BUT I WOULD NEVER SEND THREATS OR HATE MAIL TO ANYONE!!! MENTAL ILLNESS DOESN'T NECESSARILY MAKE YOU VIOLENT.

Absolutely, what this person did was crazy, illogical, and idiotic. It was not in any way a normal response to rejection. 99.9999999% of people who query agents would never dream of hunting a rejecting agent down and attempting to hurt them physically. We all get it. We understand the way publishing works. We are NOT deluded into thinking that a rejection of our manuscript is a personal rejection of all that we are and all that we ever hope to be.

To be perfectly honest, I don't mind rejections. If an agent doesn't love my writing, why would I want them to represent me at all? I mean, really. LOGIC, PEOPLE!

Finally, I've been thinking a lot about my online presence. If you follow me on Twitter, or read some of my blog entries, you can probably make an educated guess as to the general area where I live. You could find my phone number with a small effort. My "author" email address is posted on my blog, for crying out loud. I'm not hard to track down. This scares me now.

When I started this blog (and even longer ago started a blog over on LiveJournal), I had no reason to hide my identity. Y'all know my real name. It's in my twitter name. No, you wit, not MittensMorgul. But for the first time ever, I've seriously wished I'd made up a different name to write under. Not to mention the fact that there are a bunch of other people named Laura Hughes running around in the world. It's not exactly an exotic name. I just don't think it's possible to change it now. I mean, the Internet remembers everything. It's out there now, and it's going to stay there whether I try to change it or not.

With all that in mind, I would like to inform the world that I am a brown belt in kung fu. I own swords, and I know how to use them. I carry a quarterstaff around in my car. I wield a mean purple pocketknife. My elbows are certified as weapons. And I know six ways to kill a man with my bare hands (that sentence is a lie, but the rest is 100% truth). I did used to work for an orthopedic surgeon who pointed out all the nerve bundles and joint spaces to hit if I were ever attacked by a madman on the streets. It might not kill you, but you'll likely wish you were dead.

Hopefully I will never need to back up the previous paragraph. Hopefully the world will be a nice place from now on. Hopefully it will be just as nice as I remember it being until yesterday afternoon, a world where writers and agents respect and learn from one another, and where the cost of running a practical business isn't the acceptance of threats as "business as usual." Us kung fu practitioners will be watching you, so freaking behave, already!

(Insert Hysterical Yet Thoughtful Title Here)

Don't you hate it when you think up the absolute perfect premise for a blog post, you laugh, you think of a way to tie it in to something relevant to your own life at that moment, you laugh again because it is STILL funny after ten minutes, and then you fall asleep? Yeah, me too.

I used to keep a notepad by my bed so I could write things like that down. I moved it, uh, somewhere. Don't remember where. I probably took it to the office to transcribe past notes, and then never returned it. It doesn't really do me a lot of good if it's not there to make notes in. Once again, my brain failed me.

I was just too lazy and tired to get up and find writing materials to make a quick note of the fantastic blog post idea. I wouldn't forget something that funny, would I? Of course not!

Unfortunately, all I remember of the Perfect Blog Entry idea is that it once existed. Every detail has been permanently wiped from my brain. Unless someone out there knows hypnosis, which I would be open to trying. Ugh.

So there you have it. The Perfect Blog Post that should have lived in this space has been replaced by a Writerly Warning. Here goes:

When you think of something great, for glob's sake, WRITE IT DOWN IMMEDIATELY! You will suffer brain failure eventually. You may point to me as the example.

Oh, dear, look at that poor woman over there, suffering from Writerly Brain Failure.

It's not polite to point, dear.

I know, but...she's suffering. Isn't there something we can do for her?

It's her own fault. Should have written it down.

So there you have it.

Giant Brain Eraser wants to eat your good ideas

In better news today, I got a lot of editing/writing done last night. I say Editing SLASH Writing because brain failure struck again. I had to put down the WIP several months ago to work on revising two other books, which turned out to be cannibalistic. They ate their little book-mate right out of my brain! I had to go back to the beginning and rewrite some things that had to change because of changes made to the first two books, and also to remember the details I'd already written. Without further ado, it's time for the triumphant return of the:

PROGRESS-O-METER for BLACK SHEEP! *confetti cannon* *flailyhands* (I really need to make a widget for this)

Words: 54,970

Pages: 171

Edit Page: 19

Explanation for those new to this concept: Words is the total word count, Pages is the total page count, and Edit Page is the page I'm up to in a revision. As you can see, I have a LOOOONG way to go. Progress-O-Meter tracking keeps me honest and shames me into actually working. I expect shaming when you don't get regular updates! Thank you for your support.