A Happy Tired

The only good thing about today was the way that people kept asking me about fantasy fiction. I love it when they come up to me and ask "Hey I love fantasy, got anything new?"

Do I ever!

Letssee, today I recommended and sold

2 copies of Isle of Swords by: Wayne Thomas Batson

1 copy of Legend of the FireFish by: George Bryan Polivka

1 copy of The Hand that Bears the Sword by: George Bryan Polivka

1 copy of Rise of the Dibor by: Christopher Hopper

1 copy of The Lion Vrie by: Christopher Hopper

1 copy of Landon Snow and the Auctor's Riddle by: R. T. Mortenson

And, though technically not a sale because they aren't bought yet, another customer put on hold The Door Within, Rise of the Wyrm Lord, and The Final Storm.

It was a busy fantasy selling day! :-D I almost sold a copy of The Restorer by Sharon Hinck today too, but the customer's going to come back and use a coupon on it instead of buying the book now.

Bowing with a Flourish

To Lady Eve! Who not only shared her award with me, but gave me this lovely new template in addition to sharing her "Rockin Girl Blogger" status! I can't say how much of a lift this has been this week! I've been circling the doldrums for days, and the stress level at work hasn't helped. This gift really is a kiss from Christ Himself, delivered through the kindness of Lady Eve.

I've Been Taking Pictures All My Life. .. Long Before I Had a Camera

I'm pretty sure that's a line from the 1995 movie Sabrina, and Sabrina's talking about taking mental snapshots. That happened in abundance the week that Rhu was out visiting because most evenings or mornings I went down and helped to collect her from the commuter train. By the way, if you haven't discovered this all ready train stations are wonderful spots for people watching and human drama. People are late, people run for trains, people hug and cry at train stations, they kiss hello and good bye at train stations, they wave, they laugh, and sometimes, they do something that so arrests your attention you can't think of anything else except wonder. . .what part of the story you stumbled into.

For instance, one day when Rhu was out here and we were roughly ten minutes early for her train, and it was too blisteringly hot to get out of the car and go to the protected little plastic bubbles they call 'bench booths' near the tracks we agreed to sit in the car and enjoy the A/C and just watch the people. A green compact car drove past and snagged the last ten minute parking only space. I watched, and nudged Rhu and she watched too, as a slender young woman with nut brown hair coiled into a bun at the back of her head got out of the passenger side of the vehicle. She had a thin blouse on that was rose colored or pink and it had a wide collar and a camisole underneath of white and that had some lace detail on it. She wore charcoal gray pinstripe trousers and had on gray or black shoes with a low heel. Over one shoulder she slung a petite gray purse and the other she had a small laptop bag of black. She leaned back against the frame of the car and pressed a hand to her face and when she did that, I noticed she swayed slightly. The other side of the car opened and disgorged a young man with brown hair, cut medium length and looking as if he'd run his finger through it a few times and decided it was good enough. He hadn't shaved and the stubble over his jaw was nearly blue it was so dark. He had the build of a swimmer or a runner, a long lean look, and he wore a kelly green t-shirt, tan cargo shorts, and had on his feet green flip flops. He leaned too, on the car frame a moment, but where she leaned back, he leaned foreword, and watched her. Then he got out of the door's way and closed it as she pushed off and headed for the island of green where one tree and some grass divided my side of the parking lot from the far side. She sat down on the curb and put her head in her hands, smoothing fly aways from her bun and then looked up at him as he sat down beside her. He smiled and shouldered into her, lightly, a friendly thing. She swayed with the motion and pressed her hands to her face again and then he took them and held them for a minute before letting go and standing up. The train pulled into the station. She stood up too and then grimaced and put a hand over her stomach and shut her eyes. He took the ends of her collar lapels and tugged on them gently. She didn't move, and he took her lap top bag and swung it over his shoulder and put his other arm around her shoulders, and leaned in and murmured something to her. She nodded, wiped her eyes and then followed him back to the car. She got in, and then he put the lap top in the back behind his seat, and got in. They drove away just as Rhu and I quick-walked down to the platform so she could catch the train.
(Hey, I love trains and she was my excuse to be on the platform!) We talked about the couple while the other people filed in front of us (we were last on the platform) Were they roommates and the one had driven the other to catch the train? Or how about brother and sister? Their coloring was similar and they were of similar build and height (remember she was wearing heels). Or they could have been boyfriend and girlfriend, and he woke up late but still wanted to take her to the train. Or how about a young married couple? Not everyone wears rings. Or how about good friends? He took her down to the park and ride because her car broke down. We will never know what the relationship was, and we will likewise never know why she didn't go to work that day. She could have been just getting over the flu, she could have been dreading something at the office, she could have been suffering from the heat, or she could have been pregnant and not showing quite yet. There were so many possibilities that my mind spun back to them the rest of the day. I'd found myself in the middle of a story, and my mind had snapped the vignette as crisp and clean as the iris of a camera lense catching a moment on film.

Where Did Scribe Go?

Ah, so good to be missed! I forgot to let my lovely online fans know (especially the ones that DO NOT POST AND ONLY GHOST) that I've got company this week! Rhu in person! One glorious week of nothing but talking shop, goading each other to write faster, and doing some exercises together. Okay, so I'm still having to work and she's down at the Folger's right now pouring over texts from the 1700's for this project that is going to make her rich and famous. Well famous anyway. Famous among people who read texts on Shakespeare. It was a real coup for her to get into the library seeing as the Folgers never lets in undergrads, but Dr. George somehow managed to convince them that Rhu is his Girl Friday and that he's not coming out here, he all ready traveled to England to do research and that was enough. Soooo, I get to host Rhu and spend some time with her and she gets to stay here for free (no comments about how costly in other ways it is to spend time with me thank you everyone else who knows me) and it's a win-win situation. Except, poor fans, I will not be posting as much here this week. I adore you all, however I belonged to Rhu long before you met me and to my old master this week I return.

On the Lam (again)

This could become a habit. I'm at Panera(TM) again this time with my lap top (affectionately christened 'Rea' by several of my friends. Rea is masculine name, btw , it comes from the Irish and he is so far the most beloved of my characters. Hey, he's got his own fan club and he's not even in print before the masses yet!) tipity typing away and uploading photographs. Unfortunately I don't think they are going to be any higher res. than the ones m'lord e-mailed me. For whatever reason they are only roughly a MB each. But they are rather adorable. The authors I mean. Hmmm.
Can fantasy authors be described as ''adorable'' I wonder? Or is that like saying "Fuzzah Wuzzah Balrog"? In other words, not something recommended if you wish to live a long and happy life. Ah well, I will find out.

Now if you will excuse me, I have to finish 'frustrating' my poor Rea. When last I left him he was surrounded by men with bows and bolts on string. Wouldn't want to be him. ;)

Old School

I hadn't written in nearly three weeks, and vowed that it had got to stop. I'd written sentences here and paragraphs there, but nothing solid, nothing where I got in the mindset where interruption mean death and dismemberment to the one bringing the break in concentration. Today I wrote, I wrote at Panaera (TM) while waiting to meet up with a friend. I wrote for nearly an hour and a half and felt the anger build in me when an over zealous table washer moved in and started mopping up my drink ring. They lived, I like to eat there. But the whole incident left me wondering if I need to go and 'write on the lam' more, if getting out away from home might make a difference. I was using pen and graph pad at the cafe' (all I had with me) but I was able to focus and make several important connections in plot. Reading about the different types of plotters (writers) on m'lord's blog helped too I think. Anyone else find that changing location 'freshens' up the writing or helps get over blocks?

Books!

I received RELENTLESS by Robin Parrish today at work, (my copy) and put another on order for the store. Then, I remembered that Alton Gansky has a new one out called FINDERS FEE so, I ordered that one too. Sheesh, I need to stop buying books and work on my own.