what is her back beach

And now for something that only I might find funny. But I do confess I laughed so hard, I cried.

I recently had the toddler (2 years, 10 months) leave Ed a voicemail message. The audio is utterly endearing and cute. But I was in stitches reading the Google Voice transcription:

“Hey. And yeah, Hi. Hey, got it, call me. Hey, Yes, Hi Blooms Here it is and hi hey. Les, Hi Sara of it. Yeah, Hi Ed, It’s Yeah, it’s tyler perry mass HI bye HI. Hello, doing. Thank you. Hi Ed, Donahue, west, but calling to see you, alright bye bye, bye bye HI I don’t, right ohh, Hi, it’s set. Okay, bye love. Colorado dot Bob, Ed mcelroy back. Hello You. Okay bye. I have, I just, hey message, Hey it’s me. Hello. No, but HI Well, ohh but either camp control. I don’t doubt it alright. Bye, alright so. What is her back beach. I kayaking with G that shows how that came Please. Good morning Yeah, okay as far as I get to know if this message is over. Pouring so hope you enjoyed that. We are headed to you already have and After I drop her off possibly and Carlos Carlos friends are going to come, finish the coffee needs So that’s what’s going on the plane. We love you. Yeah man, Bye, I.”

So.

  • Tyler Perry mass
  • Donahue
  • Colorado dot Bob
  • camp control
  • WHAT IS HER BACK BEACH
  • kayaking with G
  • finish the coffee needs
  • that’s what’s going on the plane
  • yeah man.

I ❤ modern technology so much. : )

finishthecoffeeneeds

#Amediting: 1st Drafts in Riding Gear, People

Dear inklings, there are some things in a writer’s life that should never see the light of day.

One of these things is Herself at the end of a frazzled, caffeine-overladen, hair-pulling-out writing session. Fortunately, I haven’t had a writing session of that nature since the end of NaNoWriMo, so we’re none of us in danger of apocalypse induced via zombified writer.

 
However, another writerly thing that should never see the light of day (READ: should never be shared with a mass of readers and potential readers and potential potential readers) is a draft manuscript.

A particularly good example of what can happen when a draft manuscript is accidentally released into the wild is here. If you want the short version without clicking through: It’s the case of Stephenie Meyer’s Midnight Sun vs. the Internet. I’m not sure who won, but I kept an eye on those events as they unfolded, and they weren’t pretty.

Anyway.

Draft manuscripts should go to beta, gamma, and delta readers only. The adoring public needs protection from the horrors, especially from the horrors of FIRTS draft manuscripts.

If you’re an unsuspecting fan/reader, and you get your hands on a first draft MS and start reading, the first draft MS will sprout long, gaunt, claw-tipped fingers, reach out from the page/screen while you stare transfixed like a fluffy baby chick before the hypnotic gaze of the rock python, and rip your little fan/reader eyeballs right out of their little fan/reader sockets.

And then it will eat your firstborn.

I care about you, my lovelies. I don’t ever want that to happen to you.

But.

I’m editing my way through what I’ve got so far of my low sci-fi Elevator People (working title), and I just found this gem, and I absolutely must share it with you. If you are weak of stomach or faint of heart, please don’t test your fortitude on this. I take no responsibility for any hypnotized gazing or eyeball out-gouging. Continue reading at your own risk.

Here goes.

Are you ready?

BE SURE.

Cover your face and glance through your fingers if you think you can’t handle it but just can’t resist taking that dangerous, forbidden peek.

My draft manuscript boasts this:

There’s nothing special I can add to the resistance, but it was a into and out in riding gear all the way.
The moment he thought he’d identified the seriousness of the situation, there’s no doubt Lady Fair intended to sell Risk at a price that would let the Lady expand her business and bits of the fact of her absence whatever.
The admission rankled.

The admission that I wrote this rankles.

Partial explanation: I was scribbling so fast for NaNoWriMo, I didn’t bother using the backspace key to delete unnecessary wordage. Things ran together, mushed into each other, and decided to couple in a most bizarre and disturbing fashion. I should probably shoulder the responsibility for this hideous match-making, but I ain’t gonna. ; )

Also, whatever…in riding gear all the way, people. IN RIDING GEAR.

*sigh*

I now take my leave of you, most desirous that your little fan/reader eyeballs are still tucked securely into their little fan/reader sockets.

*mwah!*

Okay inklings, here’s your German word for today…

…and that word is lecker!

le•cker

  • delicious
  • yummy
  • delectable
  • scrumptious
  • or even scrum-dilly-umptious, if you will

A fantastic German sentence in which to use your new vocabulary word would be:

Mein Eiskaffee ist lecker!

Which brings me to our bonus German word for the day…

EISKAFFEE!!!

The Cat Looks at You Upside Down

IM IN UR GARAGE SCRAMBLIN UR EGGZ

My dearest, most venerable inklings,

Yesterday was Memorial Day. To celebrate this, the husband and I spent four days together with family members, installing hardwood flooring in the husband’s parents’ house. Here are a few moments that happened during that time:

  • My brother-in-law practiced his baseball swing by hitting wood bees with a 2×4.
  • For the first time ever, I cooked scrambled eggs on a griddle. Nothing bad happened. Yay!
  • I deepened my recently acquired addiction to “Angry Birds.” *sigh*
  • There were copious amounts of homemade blackberry cobbler. With homegrown blackberries.
  • We celebrated a high school graduation.
  • We ate our meals at a picnic table in the garage.
  • I chiseled pieces of flooring down to size, which reawakened my slumbering love for wood cuts.
  • Flying roaches and cups of coffee are not a good combination.

    All of that to say: This is my Official 50th Blog Post. One would think I’d mark the occasion by crafting something of cramazing brilliance.

    But, nay. As far as substance, that list up there is about all you’re gonna get on my blog today, because after being out-of-town with sketchy Internet service for four days, I am now in the process of catching up with my life.

    We’re entering serious hypocrisy here, kids. Do as I say, not as I do:

    Write yourself a cushion of blogposts, that you might not be without substance when comes The Day of Greater Catching Up Busyness.

     
    I don’t have a cushion of blog posts.

    Instead, here’s a picture of my older cat, Pippin. Yippee!

    Peregrin 'Pippin' Took Cantrell

    33 Questions for My Readers

    You mustn’t always believe what I say. Questions tempt you to tell lies, particularly when there is no answer.

    –Pablo Picasso

    Okay, my dear inklings. This one was inspired by Michael Martine, Remarkablogger, who apparently keeps a tiny camera tucked into the the folds of my brain and blogs answers to my questions before I know I have questions.

    Without further ado or adon’t: I have questions for you, my dears. Pick a few and share your thoughts in the comments. Or answer all the questions, if you dare. Or ask some of your own. Who knows what might happen if you people start talking to each other as well as to me? ; )

    Mac or PC?

    WordPress or Blogger?

    Disqus or Livefyre?

    Facebook or Twitter?

    Blog or e-zine?

    Chicken or the egg?

    Novels or short stories?

    Poetry or journal?

    Paper or plastic?

    Tea or coffee?

    Cream or sugar?

    IHOP or Denny’s?

    Restaurant or home-cooked?

    Faith or religion?

    Values or beliefs?

    Parachuting or deep-sea diving?

    iPhone or Android?

    Data or Spock?

    Kirk or Picard?

    Star Wars or Star Trek?

    Klingons or Wookiees?

    Jack Bauer or Chuck Norris?

    Bauer or MacGyver?

    MacGyver or Jones?

    Early bird or night owl?

    Dogs or cats?

    Oceans or mountains?

    Jungle or desert?

    Speaking or listening?

    Silence or sound?

    Stillness or movement?

    Inward or outward?

    Questions or answers?

    And, above all: WHY?

    My Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

    There is a children’s book which, sadly, I have never read. It is Judith Viorst’s Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

    Although my English teacher mother and my bibliophile father kept me in English-language books whilst I was growing up in Germany, they seem to have missed this one somehow. I arrived at college in Oklahoma in 1996 to find fellow students referencing this little book all over the place. This book, and the film The Princess Bride. I didn’t know what anyone was talking about.

    In the interim, I’ve seen The Princess Bride about a bajillion times — but I’ve never gotten around to getting my hands on Alexander’s story. For my purposes today, however, all I need to know about his story is the title and the cover art. I can extrapolate pretty well: Alexander’s day is starting out sucky and it’s just getting worse.

    (On a side note, my fingers keep wanting to type “Aleksandr.” Apparently, I am Russian today. Yeah, baba.)

    My Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Wednesday

    Yesterday, I could relate all too well to Alexander’s story. It all started when I poured my coffee, zested it up with Truvia, and then opened the fridge — only to discover that there was no milk in any form. No cow, no goat, no almond.

    I cannot drink coffee without some form of milk. My tastebuds haven’t the constitution for the purely black stuff.

    So. No coffee for Courtney. If you know me at all, you know that this was pretty much THE harbinger of Doom.

    The doomish trend continued when I settled in to work out our monthly budget, which I do at the start of every month.

    NOTE TO SELF:

    Never do a budget without having fortified self with coffee.

    I shan’t divulge my budgeting details, ’cause that’s nunya. ; ) However, I will say that upon close review, the finances looked worse than I’d anticipated. In fact, I’d been anticipating good stuff. There wasn’t any. Just bad stuff. I slumped in my chair, rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands, and plodded on.

    Things got worse when I opened a bill, and it was medical, and it was unexpected, and it was for several hundred dollars, and I don’t think I should have to pay it. A phone call confirmed my fear that the only way to get out of it will be to haggle with the insurance company that hasn’t provided our insurance in almost a year.

    The only haggling I enjoy is the haggling one does with European vendors who don’t speak one’s language.

    Yes. I would rather stand in a dirty, open-air market and argue over trinkets at the top of my lungs with an irate vendor who is trying to cheat me and whose language I don’t speak than have a phone conversation in English with an insurance company.

    But that’s beside the point.

    The point is that by now, I was bawling in horrid frustration over my budget forms. This was followed in quick succession by slamming the back of my head into the corner of the kitchen cabinet and then poking myself in the eye with a fingernail.

    My terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

    In Which Things Get Better

    Since Judith Viorst’s book was published in the more innocent, less snarky age of 1987, I’m assuming Aleksandr’s story has a happy ending and a Moral To The Story. (Word.)

    My happy ending came in the form of a phone call from my mother. (How do mothers always know?) She said, “Daddy and Grandpa stopped at Sonic on their way home, and Daddy paged through a Gazette while they ate. Here’s what he found… .”

    What Daddy found was an article in the Oklahoma Gazette. And the article was about my book.

    As a placeholder for what you’re reading right now, I posted the following on my blog yesterday:

    Odds bodkins and gadzooks! My novel is in today’s Oklahoma Gazette!

    Read article “Write-hand view” by Danny Marroquin.

    Cramazing!

     

    Every Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day Has Its Silver Lining

    And that, my dear inklings, is your Moral To The Story.

    Are you having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day?

    I’ve minimized a lot of my worries through witticism and sarcasm in this post. I won’t minimize yours. If you’re struggling with something more serious than budgeting woes and bumps on the head, my prayers and good thoughts are with you. I understand that there is darkness so deep, silver linings aren’t visible. (I’ve been there.)

    But if you’re just having a bad day — what’s your silver lining?

    It doesn’t have to be something like your first novel’s cover art in the newspaper. (Although that’s pretty freakin’ cool, lemme tell ya.) Your pick-me-up might be a literal ray of sunshine. A smile from a stranger. A call from a friend.

    Or maybe it’s chocolate. I ate a lot of that yesterday, too. ; )

    How do you turn a bad day around? Let’s talk.