So...um...yeah.

Greetings!

I know I've fallen off the internet for a while...there's an explanation for that. It mostly involves living, but...yeah.

Anyway, everyone knows NaNo's staring in a a week or two, which is exciting...and I have no idea what I'm going to be writing for it. Maybe I'm out of practice, or maybe it's writer's block, but...I really haven't got a clue what to write, and every idea I come up with...doesn't work.

Now, I'm not whining...much. One of the biggest reasons I haven't come up with anything is time. You see, I've gone and acquired myself a husbandboyfriend and a stepson who's 8 now, and this month I've been embroiled in helping him to construct a Halo Spartan costume out of old shin guards, knee pads, etc, spraypaint, duct tape and cardboard. I got promoted in August to HR Manager at the hotel I work for, which is a much more hectic position for not too much more money than I was getting before, and I'm often there later than I would like to be...but the upside (no more night audit for me!) is also something of a downside, because it means I can't write at work.

I've barely even crocheted anything.

Now, I'm not whining because I'm being all growed up and doing my job and being step-mum when one has no real experience being a mum is...different (and not something I'll ever give up), but...I miss writing. NaNoWriMo would be the best time to get back into writing, except for the one, pesky detail that I can't escape:

What The Hell Am I Going To Write?

A Book Review, of Sorts

As I am occasionally wont to do (generally for the laughs), I browse the paperback section at whatever passes for a grocery store/drug store and pick out something that catches my fancy. In this case, I grabbed Crave, by J.R. Ward, an author I'd never heard of, so I picked it on the basis of the cover alone.

I also, in all truth, have completely exhausted my supply of books at home (which numbers about five, currently).

Halfway in, I've decided that I actually kinda like it. It's the second book of its series, which I didn't know when I got it, but since I wasn't going for brilliance in writing, I don't much care. It's certainly not the best piece of fiction out there, but it's decent. The universe sticks to its own rules, and there's hot men who have wings and fighting and general manliness.

On the other hand, the author used 'symbology' as a word. I just about died. Plus, there's a demon called 'Devina', which just makes me think of that bit in Rabb Nesbit when David Tennant guest starred as a soon-to-be woman. And Devina goes to a mortal therapist for actual therapy, which seems a bit odd, for a demon who's trying to take over heaven and earth. She also won't kill kids, but isn't above sacrificing virgins. Seems a bit inconsistent, but then, there's no reason why a demon wouldn't have foibles like being squeemish about killing kids, but not adult virgins.

In terms of writing style itself, it's an easy enough read, though there are waaaay too any sentences with strung-together-phrases-like-this-one, which I would have pounced on had I been editing. And most of the men are actually just the same man in different clothes and with slightly different backstories, except for a couple of the side characters, one of whom is actually interesting, which is a little annoying, but then again - I wasn't reading it in the hopes of finding loveable characters so much as hot men who could fly.

Still - over all, it's performing its function admirably, and entertaining me enough that I don't mind falling asleep while reading, or go stir-crazy with nothing to do when crocheting socks doesn't hold any interest for me. The universe is intreiguing enough to hold my interest (but not my ability to spell, it seems), despite the character flaws, the smut didn't devolve into the 'throbbing member' nonsense that most romance novels go for, and if it wasn't for a...brusqueness and a bit too much modern-world-name-dropping that always ends up dating a book (like tossing in a reference to eHarmony), it'd move out of the 'decently tolerable' category and into the lesser levels of indifference.

That said, 'symbology' was almost a deal breaker - all I could hear is Willem Defoe saying "Ssssssymbolism."

I kinda want to watch Boondock Saints, now...

EDIT: Fixed sentences, cleared up thoughts, and generally mopped up the mess I made when I wrote this while half asleep yesternight. Jan 10, 2011

Ecksmas Prompt: Man of Snow

This is proof positive that I'm bugnuts, by the way. Enjoy! And happy Solstice Rites Of Your Choosing!

~~~

When he woke, he was blind and cold and deaf and could not scream. He couldn’t move, either, but he could feel their hands.
Sensation returned first to his arms; his fingers felt cold and brittle.
Sight returned, then smell. The world was shades of grey, but he could see it and was thankful, even if it did smell of carrots.
They stuck a corncob pipe where his mouth was supposed to go, before they gave him the hat and scarf. It didn’t charm him; he was as cold as death.
They wanted holly-jolly laughter. Instead, he took their souls.

EDIT: I tried putting the damn picture at the end. It won't let me. I blame the shitty computer. And I'm totally adding this after the story's been up for a few moments. Hah! Also, there are waaaaay too many pics of creepy snowmen out there. They're coming for us.