I love this picture of Chris Martin. In it, he looks just as Whit did when we first met. I’ve got a very similar photo of Whit, but it didn’t scan well. I’m still puzzled by the marital choices some of these people make. Marrying Gwyneth Paltrow definitely lowered him in my estimation. I thought there was more depth to him than that, or maybe there’s more to her than initially meets the eye. I seriously love Coldplay, but not nearly as much as I did before he married her.

I remember being extremely disappointed when Dave Navarro married Carmen Electra. It became readily apparent that he was not at all the man I thought him to be. I knew Creed would crash and burn when I watched their Behind the Music. Did you see that southern belle Scott Stapp hitched himself to? I was never a Creed fan, but I knew then that he was a poseur to the first water.

Other people have gotten more interesting based on who they’ve hooked up with. I always thought Brad Pitt was vastly overrated. He just didn’t do anything for me, and I didn’t think much of his acting ability, though he did manage to upstage Tom Cruise in Interview With the Vampire. (Not that upstaging that headcase is particularly difficult.) Then I saw Mr. & Mrs. Smith and dude suddenly had a lot a more ooomph! I like him comedic, over-the-top roles. If you haven’t seen Inglourious Basterds, you’ve seriously missed out.

I think that happens in real life too. You think you know someone and then you meet their significant other and it’s like they’re living a double life. It makes you wonder which of their personas is real. It’s very odd.

I’m really not feeling this new hairstylist on What Not to Wear. Nick did absolutely amazing things with curly hair. (All his straight hairstyles were lame, though.) Ted doesn’t have the curly hair touch that Nick does. Oh well.

No, I’m not in a fit of despondency over the election in Massachusetts. As far as I’m concerned, health care reform was deader than hell the moment the Public Option went tits up. Oh well, America you get what you deserve.

I’m really liking these Seven7 jeans I got at TJ Maxx. I swear they ought to call them the official jeans for shortwaisted women. It’s so nice to wear jeans that cover my ass and don’t cut me in the waist. I bought all they had in my size, but that was only three pair. And one of them had a bedazzled bottom. I’m not really feeling that, but figure I’ll just be sure to wear them with a jacket or shirt that covers it. Who wants rhymestones™ ( Monica Mingo) on their ass?

I’m writing again, but still in a bit of a funk. I’ve been buying a lot of books lately, and I must say I’ve been sorely disappointed. I’ve read, or attempted to read, three wallbangers in a row. One of them I had eagerly anticipated, and it’s so bad I really do want to call the author and cuss her out. The other is by someone I usually love, but at least I know she’s sometimey as hell. When she’s good she rocks like fiyah, but when she’s bad she makes you want to gouge your eyes out with a grapefruit spoon. Unfortunately, there’s no way to know in advance which one you’ve got. It’s like a box of chocolates…FROM HELL!!  And this one I’m trying to read now, damn. It is so dry, and so boring I’ve been shaking my head now for thirty minutes. There is an art to building sexual tension between two characters, and this writer clearly missed that class. I think I’ll put these aside and get back to my own books.

So yesterday I was trying to print some flash cards to help Luke with his spelling test. Yes, he is in kindergarten. No, I don’t know why they have spelling tests in kindergarten, I’m just trying to be the shepherd here. Anyway, my printer wouldn’t work. I fuxed with that thing all morning, no dice. Whit comes home and connects one cable and Bingo! the damned thing runs like a Singer. I pointed out that stuff like that really makes me hate him. He said, “I get that reaction a lot.” See my point? I think we’re easing into the bitterness and loathing part of our marriage. I’ve been looking forward to that for a long time.

.

He’s not here for any particular reason. Several folks over at WAOD were talking about how hot he is and I had to check him out. Hot doesn’t even come close. Dude is hot like Damn and Whoa. I definitely feel a papi chulo story coming on.

My only complaint? No nekkid pictures. Dude needs to take a page out of the Jonathan Rhys Myers/Viggo Mortensen playbook and get nekkid for the cameras. Hot guys should always have nekkid pictures available. Do you hear that Troy Polamalu? Why is it that I can find an internet full of pictures of old shits like Steve Harvey, but none of this little bit of lusciousness? Life just isn’t fair.

I realize that you will not be happy until you have all the money in the world. Hey, I can get behind that. It’s good to have goals, and goodness knows if I ever have a hit I’m going to milk that sucker for all its worth. Yes, I’ll be the first romance author in history with backpacks and action figures! I also realize that Melody Hobson is a wealthy high-maintenance woman in her own right. For an ego-maniac like you it must make for a difficult relationship. But dude, $50 freaking bucks for a Star Wars model?! My brothers had those back when we were kids, they cost $3 and you had the bonus of being able to sniff the glue!

And Lego, I’m not letting you money-grubbing scumbags off the hook either. Legos are supposed to spark a child’s creativity. Where’s the creativity behind something that only makes one thing, and an outrageously priced thing at thing at that? And then y’all pimp this crap on all the kiddie channels like Jehovah’s Witnesses. Double epic fail dudes.

Okay, make or break time. I will start Given TODAY. 

Missed the first 30 minutes of Flashforward last week. Hope I’ll be able to understand what the hell went on. Can’t stand to watch video on this old computer. It buffers forever. Whit watched it, but won’t tell me. I need a new husband. 

Dear Cynthia Rylant, I know you’ve written 50 zillion of these Poppleton books. The Luke loves them, but I’ve got a question: Why no Poppleton in Summer? You’ve got the other three seasons, but no summer. No, my son doesn’t care, but I’m much too compulsive to go without an entire set. Once I start a series I must have them all, so get cracking. 

Love PaperBack Swap like buttercream frosting. Only one problem. People get the books and then don’t indicate they’ve received them. Look jackasses, I’ve gone to the trouble and expense of sending you a free book. The least you can do is give me the credit so I can get a free book. 

Dear Jackass Who Was Stocking in Publix Today: Please note, that in general when I’m marketing my mind is far, far away in particular I’m not paying attention to grown ass men who Pssssttttt’ at me. Please be further advised that I only refrained from kicking you in the head because I was wearing my absolutely favorite pair of flats and didn’t want to ruin them with your blood. Consider this a free lesson, next time I won’t be so restrained. 

One solid week without sugar. Better hold onto your seatbelts. I’m only going to get bitchier. 

As for the picture, is anyone else dying to see Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland?

Saw something on Twitter earlier that got me thinking. There is a bit of a kerfuffle because Wanda Sykes and her wife chose white donor eggs for their children. Not sure why they didn’t use their own eggs, though I’m thinking Wanda’s probably too old. Not sure about the wife and obviously they’d have to use donor sperm, though her wife did carry the children. (Correction: they used her wife’s eggs, but used donor sperm). 

Apparently this type of thing is becoming more of an issue as black women are choosing to use donor/sperm of whites. I know from infertility boards that black eggs are harder to come by and thus more expensive (dontcha love capitalism). I’m not sure about black semen. Also, it would appear that black women tend to have less successful outcomes with IVF, though scientists are sure why. This might be part of the fact that black women tend to have more infertility problems overall. My guess would be that most black have had fibroids and with a myomectomy the chance of scarring is fairly high. 

I have no plans to have IVF or the like, but I wonder if it’s something I would do, especially since my partner is white. What are the implications of black  women choosing to have biracial or in Wanda’s case totally white children? 

I seem to be doing a lot of these random postings lately. What with my writing schedule, I’m becoming seriously fly-by-night. I promise, after October 15th I’ll be much better. 

Yesterday was my birthday and I’d planned to do my usual giveaway, but seeing as how Morning Star will be released on the 29th, I thought I’d do my big giveaway then. I think I’m going to do a fabulous basket that includes cookies, gift certificates and lots of books. I’ll let you know more soon. 

Crystal Hubbard wrote me a birthday poem. Nobody has ever gone all iambic pentameter for me before. Isn’t it sweet. 

An Ode to Roslyn
Everyone can write but what editors won’t tell, is that not everyone who writes, does so all that well. It takes a scribe like Roslyn, who has the canny skills of marrying thought and ability, to write a book that thrills. From voice, syntax and rhythm, her prose is just unequaled. I LOVED Pussycat Death Squad and I can’t wait for the sequel!

If you haven’t been reading What About Our Daughters, you’ve got to check out Gina’s take on Satan’s response to the Chris Brown interview. In particular this line almost cost me a rib. 

“Let me be clear. When Christopher Brown attacked Rihanna, neither I nor any of my employees, subcontractors or vendors were in possession of his soul. I can state unequivocally that this attack was not the result of being possessed by demonic spirits. ”

Satan indicated that all of his demonic spirits have an alibi and were otherwise occupied at the time of the attack.

“Yes. yes. At the time of the attack all of my demonic spirits were busy working on the Fall line up of the BET Networks. In addition, they were going through drafting some timely relationship advice for the June 2009 issue of ESSENCE magazine. We’ve got some relationship advice to DIE for!”

Darius Rucker has one of the best voices of a generation. I’m so glad he finally found his niche. People always told me I was crazy when I said Hootie should’ve been a country band. 

Santa Baby is turning into a real struggle. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m crazy tired, or what, but it’s giving me fits. I’m a little bummed about the sales on Pussycat as well. I don’t know why, but for some reason I thought y’all would really like that book. I’d love to know what put you off. 

I just can’t. I’m done. This really is and should be any writer’s worst nightmare. 

http://www.reuters.com/article/pressRelease/idUS253642+03-Sep-2009+PRN20090903

Best comment I’ve heard so far came from Khadija of Muslim Bushido: “Tyler Perry is Why the Caged Bird Drinks…Heavily.”

I missed Layne’s birthday this year, August 22. What with deadlines and back-to-school I can’t remember anything these days. Anyway, this is probably my fave Alice song. The melody is just so evocative. I used to hum it to Luke when he was a baby. 

Whit asked what I want for my birthday. Same thing I always want for my birthday; Basil Hayden and a cigar. 

They make jumbo size Smarties now. I’m so not feeling them. It looks like someone put regular Smarties on steroids. Besides I like the adventure of digging the little ones out of the bottom of my purse. Hey, I don’t get out much. 

Luke wants to be Wolverine for Halloween. The only thing scarier than The Luke is The Luke with claws. Uh, no. 

Dear Dekalb County Schools, having an event every week is a bit much. I want to be involved, but probably not THAT involved. Thank you for listening. 

Once I finish Santa Baby, and the redo of Taken, I’m probably going to bed for a week. 

December 4th is our 10th anniversary. I’d really love to go to the Caribbean. Highly unlikely, but a girl can dream.

I’ve been procrastinating tonight. I’ll do pretty much anything to avoid writing a blurb for my book Morning Star. This morning I was even desperate enough to mop the kitchen. Anyway, I popped over to Grata’s blog. I haven’t been there in a minute, and I was delighted that she congratulated me on Pussycat and talked about how much she liked the book. Her comments were particularly gratifying because she hadn’t read a romance since she was a teen, and the book was inspired by a post on her blog. She also said that the book was like a movie. She’s not the first person to make that comment about one of my stories. I think that’s pretty interesting considering that I never considered writing a screenplay. 

Most importantly she said that should it ever be optioned for a movie she hoped I wouldn’t let them make the characters white. Of course, you can imagine my first response, but let’s go to Fantasy Island anyway. I’ve got nothing better to do (Besides write a blurb, start a story that’s due October 1st and another that’s due December 1st, but other than that? I got nothing.)

Initially I thought, hey, considering the state of my finances, if that miracle occurs I don’t care if they make the character an alien. Then I backed up. That’s not true. I do care, and I care deeply. For one thing, it annoys the living crap out of me when Hollywood does that. Don’t get me wrong. I understand perfectly that marketability comes before creativity and artistry, but first and foremost I write my books about black women because there’s a dearth of books about black women finding love and happiness in a non-dysfunctional manner. Yes, I realize that some people think romances are trivial and just so much fluff. For the most part, I don’t care what the naysayers think. I know that what we talk about in our books, LOVE, that miraculous emotion that binds our civilization together is anything but fluffy. Love is powerful, in fact I believe it is the most powerful force in the universe. This is why I’m alarmed by the fact that there is so little media showing black women as worthy of such an essential element of society is sad. Those who are not worthy of love are often not seen as worthy of LIFE. So yes, I would object, quite stringently, maybe even enough to go on an Anne Rice-type campaign if something of that sort occurred. But of course, this is all the stuff of fantasy in the first place.