Getting Older

Husband was going to call up some friends to play basketball at our house this evening. We have a small court that acts as our driveway, certainly enough room for two on two. He called a few friends and his younger brother to play. When he hung up the phone, he looked at me with a puzzled frown on his face and said, "Damn, we're getting old."

My reaction was something like "Well, gee. Thanks."

He scratched his head, perplexed, like he didn't hear a word I said. "I called up Joe, asked him to play this evening and he said, 'Sure...no, wait. I'll have to check with the wife when she gets home from work and make sure she's all right with handling both kids on her own tonight'."

I nodded, not sure how this makes me old.

Husband continued. "Then I called up Sam and asked him to play. He said, 'Great, what time?' I told him around six and he said, 'Well, I got someone coming to fix our water heater. It broke last night. Let me see if I can reschedule it'."

I blinked slowly. "So because your friends have to check with their wives and fix their water heaters, that means that I'm old?"

"I call Joe and he has to check with his wife before he can come out and play. I call Sam and he's got to fix something with his house." He laughed, a playful gleam in his eye. "Wanna know what Cam, my little brother said, when I asked him to come over?"

I waited.

"He said, 'I'm in. What time?'"

So there you have it. The passage of time does funny things. You get older and wiser, but with that comes all kinds of baggage. (Some of that baggage is priceless and cheek-pinching cute, though, isn't it?) Although I don't know anyone in their thirties who would go back to being eighteen, it definitely has its perks. Zip zero responsibilities.

And this is what we have to look forward to from here:



*Wait until the middle of this video for a great laugh. Just when you think he's being a gentleman, complimenting her hair, he says the unexpected. I suppose there are some things time never changes...

Review, Interview and Florence and the Machine

There's a few things I want to point out today.

1-Kristin, over at My Bookish Ways, gave an awesome 4/5 hat review for Intervamption. I'll be guest blogging for a paranormal/urban fantasy event on the site in late August or early September. I'll keep you posted on the deets as I get 'em.

2-I did an interview for Kaitlyn at Nocturnal Readings. If you're interested in the inspiration for Intervamption or which character is my favorite, that's the blog to visit.

3-I'm blogging over at Pensfatales Friday, tomorrow, August 5th. The post topic is "SEXY" and it was oh-so-much-fun to write!

4-Florence and the Machine is totally bad ass...in case you didn't know already. I found the video below on youtube last night, as I was reeling through songs to listen to while I write Vampires of Crimson Bay #3. It's obviously not an official video and because of that, I'm not sure how long it'll last on my page before it's pulled. If you get to view it, count yourself lucky. It's true artistry. No Lady Gaga theatrics. No KISS pyrotechnics. No Beiber side-swiped hair. Just a voice that can shiver you to your toes.

(Edited to add: you have to click the black screen to cue video.)



And just in case that one doesn't last long, here's another.



Wow. Just wow.

Rejection and American Idol

Rejection was a theme on television last night. At least that's what I picked up.

On America's Next Top Model, Tyra decided to trick the models into believing they were being sent home instead of invited on the show. As they were ready to tote their luggage down the empty hall of their dreams, Tyra (as OZ) dropped her big ass curtain, revealing their trendy LA apartment.

The girls fell apart. I'm talking panic attacks and Niagra tears.

Was the point of the cruelty to make them appreciate their blessed position? Was it to make sure they knew how fast Tyra could *snap* her fingers and make it all disappear?

I changed the channel. All those dog-howling screams during the first few episodes really got to me. I may be deaf.

I started watching American Idol instead. It didn't take long before I was crying my eyes out. I couldn't believe they cut Chris Medina. (What a man, right? Talk about a hero.) Then Jennifer Lopez went and said something that made me think about writing...and once again, Rejection. There I was in my flannel PJs, sitting on the couch with my legs curled beneath me, munching on some popcorn, my dog snoring atop my feet, and J.Lo literally stops me mid-munch.

While crushing singers' dreams as lightly as she could, the diva said (forgive the paraphrase), "Don't let this No discourage you. You'll get rejected a lot in this business. I did. A lot. Now if you want this...if you really want this...you'll learn what you've got to do to make it happen. And then you'll do it."

It was then I realized...some of those singers who got rejected will go home, decide they made it further than they ever thought possible, and be fine-and-dandy with that. They'll live perfectly happy lives knowing they gave American Idol the best shot they could...they got far...and they're proud. (As they should be!) They can sleep peacefully at night knowing they at least reached for their dreams. What makes me sad is that many of them had AMAZING talent. I'd buy a few of their songs, had they stuck to their guns and sealed a record deal. But it's what good enough for them, and not me, or America or the judges, that matters, right?

Some writers aspire to finish that one novel that's been hanging over their heads for years. Some writers finish that novel, then wait years to begin the agent hunt for fear of being rejected. Putting your heart and soul into something just to see it turned down is a hard pill to swallow. Some writers receive one rejection or ten or fifty and think Hey, I got this far. This was further than most people got. And they quit much too soon. Before they fully developed their craft. Before they really stretched themselves to the limit.

I think Jennifer Lopez was on to something. I think the people who make it...the ones who really make it...they're the ones who feel it's never good enough. They can always be better. Their work, their art, their drive, can never be strong enough. Look at the greats in any field and think about their determination, their sacrifice, their drive: Nora Roberts, James Patterson, Al Pacino, Anne Rice, Madonna, Cher, Michael Jackson, etc, etc, etc. I could seriously go on and on. Think about your favorite artist, in any form. Although there are insta-stars in any business, I'd be willing to bet they were faced with hurdle after hurdle before reaching their goal.

At least this is what I'm telling myself as I face rejection after rejection in my own journey.

For all you idol fans, my favorite this season is Tim Halperin. I'm not sure he'll win because he's not really the total package that American Idol looks for, but damn his voice is awesome.

JibJab 2010 Year in Review

Oh, boy. Love the folks over at JibJab for coming up with this one...they never disappoint, do they?

Personalize funny videos and birthday eCards at JibJab!

Now is a great time to reflect on the year. I went back through my old blog posts and found the one I wrote back on January first about my goals for 2010. They were:

*Get more partial requests off my query
*Write every day
*Get an agent who believes in my work
*Drop 20 pounds by hitting the gym daily

I'm happy to say I went three for four.

*I did get more partial requests off my query. I got tons of them!
*I wrote just about every day with the exception of day trips to the ocean or mountains or a few days taken off to go to RWA National in Orlando.
*I did get an agent! And she's great!
*I haven't lost 20 pounds...yet...but P90X is still going strong and I plan on finishing the program.

Overall I think I did pretty good. My goals for 2011, you ask?

*Sell a book in The Crimson Bay Series to one of the major publishing houses in NYC.
*Find an editor who believes in my work like I do.
*Write every day
*Spend more time enjoying the little things rather than worrying about them.
*Finish another two books: the third in The Crimson Bay Seres and another (maybe a paranormal YA??? I'm tossing ideas around...)
*Final in the Daphne duMaurier Contest
*Final in the Golden Heart Contest

After writing this list out, I realized how much I'm expecting from myself this year. Oh, I realize some of those are lofty goals, but I'm shooting for the moon in 2011.

What about you? What are your goals for the year? Where do you wish to see yourself at the end of 2011?

Top Ten Tuesday: Things I'm Loving Right Now

I give you another Top Ten Tuesday! Top Ten Things I'm Loving Right Now:

10-This beautiful gloomy morning! I know, I know, it's contrary to what most people believe...but I'm absolutely glowing in this muggy California weather. I love the rain. The drizzle. The mist. I'm floating around the house, lighting candles and fixing up a scrumptious dinner in the crock pot. Loving it.

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9-Because of #10, my muse is refreshed. I'm writing up a storm. Good thing too, because at the rate I've written the first eighty pages, it'll take me six months to write this book. I need to cut that time in half. The rain will help.

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8-I'm absolutely in love with my Droid Incredible. I can access my email in two seconds. I hardly check in on my computer anymore. Who wants to be bothered with the whole "sign in" process anyway? Not me...I tend to not respond to emails as quickly, but that's okay...right? The speedy Droid apps are too handy...especially since I check my email for agents/editors every fifteen minutes or so...

7-The Biggest Loser. It's on tonight. I'm in love with Jillian Michaels. I think I may design a heroine after her in my next book.



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6-The promise of a vacation on the horizon! In a few months the Miller fam is heading to Disneyland! Tank and Princess are beyond excited. We don't make the trip to So Cal very much, so when we do it's a big deal. Mickey here we come!


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5-Kiersten White's Paranormalcy, Allison Brennan's Carnal Sin, and J.R. Ward's Lover Enshrined. For the first time in my life I'm reading more than one book at a time. I'm a little scattered, but I'm liking the variety. YA, suspense with a paranormal feel, and a hot-and-heavy paranormal. Great combo.


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4-Chocolate. Simply because I've officially sworn myself off it starting yesterday and I'm craving it something wicked. Hello. My name's Kristin. I'm a chocoholic.



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3-Scarfs! This one's a little odd, I know. But I don't wear scarfs when my hair is long. And later this month I'm cutting my hair Shirley Temple short. I'll post pictures of all the purty scarfs I buy to celebrate my new hair-do!

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2-Christina Perri's "Jar of Hearts". I don't know why, but this book is totally written on that song. I have a huge playlist to write to (see down below on right), but every time another song comes on I click it back to "Jar". I guess my muse is particular as of late.

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And the number one thing I'm Absolutely, Positively Loving Right Now is THIS:

It's Twilight's Eclipse in a Minute! And it's HILARIOUS! If you can't laugh at this, I'm afraid you might have lost a bit of your sense of humor...

Agents! Or lack thereof...

I've been hovering over my email for weeks, waiting for that one message telling me I've sold to Grand Central or Avon. (Those are the two NY publishers my agent submitted to. Still waiting for the response, fyi.) Instead of opening my mail and finding a sale of my paranormal, I opened my mail and found a disheartening letter from my agent.

Well, disheartening on my end.

I am now, once again, unagented. *Sigh* Wylie-Merrick Literary has decided to open a small press (I'll give the details about their name and titles when I'm allowed to do so--1/1/11) which means it's in my best interest to cut ties. There's nothing wrong with small press publishers. My romantic suspense, which I should have a cover and release date for soon, are with a small press...I've just got my sights set on The Big Six for my paranormal. (The Big Six are the six major publishers in NYC for you non-writing folk.)

I believe in my paranormal. I think the writing is tight and the premise is marketable. I think it resembles what's selling, with unique twists. Everything it should be to land a place in Borders and Barnes & Noble. But it's my baby, so I could be biased.

All in all, I wish Wylie-Merrick Literary luck in their small press endeavors. And I could use the luck as well, as I rehash my query and start the dreaded agent search again.

For some reason Tom Petty's Square One is stuck in my head this morning. Wonder why...

Imaginary Writing Process

Everyone seems to have dreams about what the writing process is like.

You're a writer? I've heard, time and time again. It must be easy for you to write a book, right? You're good at English, so that must help.

Yeah. That degree in my dresser drawer turns out four hundred pages in three months all by its lonesome. Every night it sprouts legs and stomps its jagged corners all over my keyboard. I wake up and the work is done. Voila!

Oh, and did I mention that the sun is always shining on my work, the inspiration is flowing, and the words falling onto the page are the best ones EVER written in the history of writing? Ever? I'm telling you now. They're good. (No, no, really. They're not. In fact, the sun is sweltering in the valley right now, the inspiration is flat and the words falling onto the page are these. BAP! ZOW! WHIZ! See how cool those words are?)

Likewise, everyone who has tried their hand at writing has dreams about what the publishing process is like. Agents and editors are lined up at your door, begging to represent you. Oh, and the New York Times just called...you made #1 on their list...as soon as you write the book of your life.

Sounds dreamy, doesn't it?

The truth is, writing is hard. Really hard. Most days the inspiration well is dry. Most days I spend hours digging through the muck at the bottom of said well just to find a drop of water I can exploit to give to a thousand thirsty children in the Sudan. Hey, I can be the Mother Theresa of writing, can't I?

But writing is fun. There's nothing else I'd rather be doing this fine Friday morning...other than shopping...or getting my nails done...or having coffee with one of my lovely critique partners gabbing about writing...I suppose then that writing is a labor of love.

We push through the muck because we love that muck. We love the way that muck hardens into rubies and emeralds in the sun and shimmers all glossy and slick in the rain. When it's all said and done, that muck is a work of art. And we're proud muck holders.

In the meantime, while I'm waiting for that lightning bolt of inspiration to strike in the middle of this summer heat, I can skulk around YouTube and find videos like these...ones that make you scream YES! THAT IS HOW IT SHOULD BE!

So take a look. Fill up your well of inspiration...or not, and just pound on those keys until they turn to dust.

A Whiter Shade of Pale: Lyrics, Meaning, and Video

A Whiter Shade of Pale (the Annie Lennox version) has always been one of my favorite songs. As you may know (if you've been reading my blog since last April), I'm obsessed with anything, everything Titanic and have been since I was little. This morning I was in need of some new music to write to. I set up mixpod.com with an all Annie Lennox playlist and, of course, A Whiter Shade of Pale linked up first. As I started writing, my mind started wandering...what on earth do these crazy lyrics mean? I've included the lyrics from azlyrics here so you can take a look:


"A Whiter Shade Of Pale"
Originally produced by Procol Harum
This version by Annie Lennox

We skipped the light fandango
Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor
I was feeling kind of seasick
The crowd called out for more
And the room was hummin' harder
As the ceiling flew away
And when we called out for another drink
But the waiter brought a tray

And so it was later
As the miller told his tale
That her face at first just ghostly
Turned a whiter shade of pale.

She said: "There is no reason,
And the truth is plain to see."
But I wander through my playin' cards
Would not let her be
One of the sixteen vestal virgins
Who were leaving for the coast
And although my eyes were open
They might just as well been closed

And so it was later
As the miller told his tale
That her face at first just ghostly
Turned a whiter shade of pale.
A whiter shade of pale
Turned a whiter shade of pale
A whiter shade of pale


Then I spent about an hour sifting through random yahoo! answers to find a reputable source for the meaning of the song. I found this:

"The song explores what it means to be wrecked, in more than one sense of the word. A nervous seducer sustains his courage with alcohol. As he becomes more drunk, his impressions of his unfamiliar partner become confused by stray thoughts, fragments of childhood reading and his own faint-hearted aspirations. The song's recurring metaphor is of maritime disaster, and a parallel is drawn between romantic conquest and the allure and peril of the sea. The hero is a callow juvenile, far happier with a book than risking the emotional bruising of relationships. This ambivalence is underscored by frequent allusions to nausea."--The text is excerpted from Tim de Lisle's Lives of the Great Songs.


So you can imagine my surprise that one of my all-time favorite songs happens to be about a romantic encounter...and a maritime disaster...and mentions my name in it. (Hello Miller's tale!) Oh, I'm swooning.

If it's at all possible, I love the song more. Ever had a song speak to you? Ever feel like you were going along just fine, only to be stopped in your tracks and diverted down another path? A walk down memory lane, maybe? Yeah. Me too. Happens all the time.

Now I'm going to enjoy the video over and over again. I know I said it already but hope you have a great Labor Day weekend! And I hope sometime in the near future you have one of these moments. A moment where, if only for a split second, things make absolute perfect sense.

2009's Mr. RT and Fresh Prince Get It Right

A childhood friend of mine (who happens to be 2009's Mr. Romantic Times {hello Mr. Paz!}), linked this on his Facebook page a couple days ago. (He's also agreed to be the Spotlight Interview for September.)

I watched the video. I listened. Something about what the Fresh Prince said struck a cord within me.

Take a look.



Did you hear what he said? When you decide what you want to do, and who you want to be, the Universe moves out of your way. It realizes this is war and you will get what you want at all costs. Suddenly the road becomes smooth. The clouds part. New goals take shape.

The difference between those who reach their goal and those who fall short are the ones who give up along the way.

So break through that rough spot. Re-prioritize your options, deciding what you will not compromise...and what you will. Re-work that problem scene. Get to it. Challenge the Universe to stand in your way.

I know I am. *grin

If you're interested in reading the book Will Smith mentioned as his favorite and beyond inspirational, click here to be carried away to amazon.






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Is Chivalry Dead?

Chivalry. Men wielding swords, standing up for their women. Men willing to fight for what's right, regardless of the consequences. Honor and virtue above all else.

That's what I'm talking about. That's why I write romance. I'm a sucker for a knight in modern clothing.

But lately I wonder what's happening to all those men. They seem to be disappearing. Case and point: the following video.

Take a look and tell me what you think. Is chivalry dead? Are there no men who'd take a hit for a girl anymore? Watch the video and leave your comments; I'm dying to hear your take. Maybe we could figure out what's going on with men lately. (Not my man, per se, but men in general. Just clarifying before I get in trouble. Love ya honey. *wink)



So? Do you think the lights got in his eyes like he said?

Yeah...I didn't believe his coward face either.

Japanese Game Shows

You know, I've wanted to post this video for awhile now but haven't been able to find a segway between writing and the madness that is the show. Finally, this morning, I've decided to stop trying to force something that just isn't there and post it.

The Husband and I watch Japanese game shows a lot. On second thought "a lot" doesn't quite describe our addiction. We watch them every single day. Whether it's on our phones while waiting in the doctor's office or while we're stuck in traffic, a hysterical laugh is only a youtube visit away.

It started with MXC on Spike late nights. We'd settle down after a long day by laughing our asses off at fools riding bikes in water and running into brick walls. We'd make fun of their rayon outfits and crazy feathered hats. We'd point at the screen and secretly want to be given our shot at running through the insane course. (My hat would be all kinds of hideous purple and feathers and sequins and it'd be AWESOME.) Then came Wipeout. We were so excited at the possibility of watching a program modeled after MXC...but were sorely disappointed. I'm not sure why it doesn't measure up--perhaps it has something to do with the fact that on Japanese game shows we have no idea what the announcers are actually saying. In our minds they're laughing at the contestants, not with them. Wipeout is just too...too...calm. The announcers are in suits half the time for crying out loud! I think our favoritism also might have something to do with the screaming and gut-wrenching laughter that comes from the Japanese Game Show crowd. The audience is having the time of their lives! Why can't I be there laughing and screaming with them?!? What a party!

Then we found the following video. I hardly use OMG but O-M-G! It is so funny and just keeps getting funnier all the way through. If you're looking for a laugh, seriously, this is the way to go. Who volunteers for this? Whose job is it to come up with a stunt like this? And who is the crowd rooting for? Who are you rooting for? What on earth are they screaming? Go, go, get that marshmallow?!?

Have a look. I hope it cheers up your Monday. All Mondays could stand to be a little more cheerful in my opinion. And what better way to do that than with a marshmallow dangling on a string?

Tik Tok

Oh, you would not believe what I discovered on the world wide web this morning...

Further proof that with enough time and an immense amount of boredom, even Star Trek can be amusing.



Want an update on my progress? I'm still editing Dark Tide Rising for The Wild Rose Press and Enemy, Beloved is out of my hands, hopefully making editors salivate for more in New York. I completed my Author's Bio a couple days ago, turned that in, and am now inserting my voice into a rather dry synopsis. That's the challenge, isn't it? Making your voice come through in a 4-5 page summary. Not as easy as it would seem.

On Monday I'll give some tips on how to write an Author's Bio or at least tell you what I did. I researched a ton of different sources trying to find the best way to make myself "marketable". I'll put all those together and condense them for you. I think I'm gonna let the Trekkies Tik Tok me into another writing session. Have a great Fourth of July weekend! Be safe out there!

So You Think You Can Dance Rocks!

I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before but I'm a HUGE fan of So You Think You Can Dance. Maybe it's the seven years of ballet under my belt...or the sixteen years of baton twirling...or the seven years of cheerleading...oh, I'm sure it's the fact that I could never in my wildest dreams come close to their level of perfection. I'd like to think it's because I appreciate beauty in all its forms with writing and literature being no exception. Whichever the reason, the show is awesome.

Last night the show took a flawless ballet dancer and paired him against a "pro" hip-hopper. The performance gave me chills, had me laughing out loud, clapping with the beat, and had me on my feet at the end before I knew what I was doing. The routine was awesome, perfectly played up to the male ballerina's strengths.

I knew I was going to like it from the start. The premise is a ballerina who's in therapy to fix his ways and get more funky. Right up my alley as my bachelors degree is in Psychology...LOVED IT.

In order to get a true appreciation for how good Alex Wong is in his own right, you should watch this video first. It looks like he's at some sort of solo competition and is, once again, flawless.


If that wasn't awesome enough, you should watch him do hip-hop. Before the routine (on the clip I can't find), Alex Wong says that hip-hop is the furthest thing from his form. He's never done it. He's never studied it. And he sure as hell hadn't performed it side-by-side with one of the greatest hip-hoppers on the planet. Watch him rise to the challenge on the show last night...



Wasn't that worth rooting for? Oh yeah. I'm shifting from Team Billy B. to Team Alex Rock.

If guys were like girls

This here is the reason women *love* to read about hunky, testosterone-raging, overly protective, Alpha males. Next time you think your man did something that drives you crazy think about the frightening alternative...

I don't know who these guys are, or why they made this video, but it's a riot!

Love Pink

I've decided this is the most inspirational writing song EVER. It's on repeat right now as I type away. Just had to share:

Show not tell

Tonight's post was inspired by the many types of relationships in the world--no two alike. And also by the fact that I can sit upright after taking Robitussin. *grin

Over the span of my twenty-nine years I've heard some couples say they've never fought...not once. I used to think they were blowing smoke. There's no way two people could live together for fifty years and not fight. No way. Then there are those couples that are at each other's throats non-stop. You know who I'm talking about--they're the ones you secretly like to hang out with just to see what's gonna happen next. Those relationships are wild roller-coaster rides that the partners seem to enjoy.

I personally don't get either of those.

The hero and heroine in my WIP have a fiery dynamic. She's studious and determined not to let someone boss her around. He's a smart-ass and likes to live life to the fullest. Together they light a fire that keeps the pages sizzling.

Tonight I got to thinking about my own marriage and the dynamic we share. And I found the perfect scene from a movie that'll show not tell. Six hilarious minutes will depict it more perfect than any words could. It's from New York, I Love You (2009). This is totally gonna be me and The Husband when we're 80 years old. Should be loads of fun! I'm laughing my arse off already! No matter how tempted you are to stop the video short, get to the end...it's worth it.

Ah, Language, How I Don't Need Thee

Found this little tidbit on aolnews. It delves into the secret language of Johnny Depp. What I find funny about this video is that he's not making a lick of sense...but I don't care. He's just too pretty.


See?

Happy Saturday; let's kick it off right. Heeeere's Johnny!

Beauty on the Subway

On January 12th, 2007, in the middle of a Washington D.C. Metro Station, a violinist opened his case on the ground, threw a couple dollars in, and started to play. For forty-five rush-hour minutes, he played six classical pieces.

Thousands of people passed him by. Only a handful actually stopped to listen and fewer than that paid for his "symphony". Had they known who he was and what was going on, they might've given more attention. Have a look and listen...




He was not a mere street-musician looking to cash in on some well-played music notes. Joshua Bell was participating in a Washington Post study to see what reaction people would have to true beauty in an unexpected form.

Joshua Bell was the featured violinist on the Angels and Demons Soundtrack as well as the The Red Violin Concerto. A few days prior to this, he sold out a theatre in Boston's Symphony Hall where tickets started at $100 a piece.

To rub salt in the wounds of the passersby, the violin he played on was reportedly worth 3.5 million dollars.

I think this has a message for everyone who's ever said to their child, "Stop splashing in the tub, it makes a mess!" or "We don't have time to stop for ice cream." or "No, you can't go smell those flowers." Beauty and love are all around...in many different forms. If we don't have the time to stop and listen to beautiful music played by a famous violinist, what else are we missing in the world? Seriously, how much time would it take out of your day to sit and listen to a man play his heart out in a subway?

An even more telling question would be...when you first watched the video on my blog, did you skim through it? Did you watch it part-way then stop? Did you watch it at all or did you first need to know how good he was before you gave him a few minutes of your time?

Hmmm...I'd be interested to know.

Check out his website for album and tour dates.

Love and...um..Understanding?

I was talking with a friend yesterday (Holla back, Lora!) when I remembered something really funny happened to me last week that I forgot to mention.

I was getting ready to leave the gym after sweating off five pounds on the EFX machine (not really five pounds but I wish).

A HUGE black man, topping the scales at probably three-hundred pounds, standing well over six-foot-six, blocked my path. My first thought was that this man was MASSIVE. I sure wouldn't want to meet up with him in a back alley. Tattoos wrapped around both arms, disappearing behind his sagging black tank top. His dark hair was buzzed short, matching the stubble grazing his face. Mean-sucker.

He asked in a rumble of a voice, "Would you mind helping me with something?"

Uh...me? Help him? I almost blurted, "If you want a spot, Dude, you might wanna ask someone more in your weight class." But I didn't. Instead, I just nodded like a moron.

He leaned close before asking, "Do you know who sings this song?"

Okay, spotting him for a five-hundred-pound squat, I couldn't do. But I'm not too shabby with calling music as I hear it. So I agreed, pulled my headphones out of my ears, stepped into the weight room and listened.

I heard a deep voice echo through the gym:

"We got enough stars to light the sky at night, Enough sun to make the whole world bright, We got more than enough, But there's one thing there's just not enough of."

Know the song yet? Or the singer? The singer I guessed right away...CHER. Can't mistake her voice.

I told him who it was and started to walk away. The muscle-bound man stopped me with an outstretched hand and said with a goofy-grin, "Do you happen to know the name of the song?"

Are you kidding me? Am I starring on Punk'd? Is this buff weight-lifter really asking me the name of a Cher song to add to his compilation? Alright...at this point I'm already helping the guy and wondering where this is headed. I swore if Ashton came running out of the locker room laughing his ass off, I was chucking a dumbbell at his perfect, Demi-loving face. She wouldn't love him so much when I was through with him...

I listened some more:

"Not enough love and understanding, We could use some love to ease these troubled times, Not enough love and understanding, Why, oh why?"

Being the Cher fan I am, I told him the song was titled "Love and Understanding". That's when I waited for the punchline.

He grinned ear to sweaty ear and said, "Thank you so much." Then he left, walked back to the bench press, where he no doubt chest-pressed a bull.

I laughed all the way to my truck. Now this situation isn't all that different from creating humorous scenes in stories. If you make the reader think something is going to happen (IE: the big-scary-dude asks me to spot him or pushes me into a corner), it's frightening but expected. Yet, if you have that same big-scary-dude act all interested in a Cher song it sparks a laugh.

Try it. Think of a character in a story you're writing. Make them do something out of character and totally unexpected. Although you can't use the technique all the time, it'll sure spruce up the scene! After all, it uplifted my day!

Just to put you in the moment, I've posted Cher's video. Watch it and imagine the biggest-scariest-meanest-bastard you've ever seen taking an awkward interest in it. Heh-heh. Still makes me laugh.

Silent Sunday?

I had every intention to blog about my favorite superbowl commercials yesterday. But our superbowl party went longer into the night than I thought thanks to an intense game of Settlers of Catan after the game. (Saints won, I lost.)

So here I am, blogging a "Silent Sunday" on a very loud, very obnoxious Monday. Man, I hate excuses. Without any more of them, I give you my favorite Superbowl commerical of all time followed by my favorite ones of this year.