More Stories You Just Can't Make Up

First of all, I have to start today's post with a huge apology - I COMPLETELY forgot to post last Monday. My only excuse is that with all the holiday scheduling, I didn't even realize what day it was. In fact, I didn't realize I hadn't posted until Friday - so, sorry!

My brother (the volunteer fireman, for those who don't know) always gives me some interesting stories because he lives in a small town and spends a lot of time talking to police and paramedics. Here's a doozy from a couple of weeks ago.

A guy and his wife get in a huge fight. She decides to leave with the kids. In this couple's case, that means by foot. Apparently, she only got so far then decided to go back home. The husband decided to pull out his shotgun and fire off a few at her as she was coming up the driveway. The police were called and a four hour standoff ensued during which everyone well, stood. Then the worst thing possible happened - the husband ran out of beer. Well, there's only one thing left to do when you've been shooting at your wife, the cops have surrounded your trailer and you're out of beer - start shooting at the cops.

So the husband starts taking shots at the cop and finally, one of the cops gets him in the gut. The paramedic comes over as soon as the cops secure the husband's gun and inspects the husband who is laying half in/half out of the doorway. He looks at the husband's stomach and sees a single small shot. He asks the huband if it hurts and he says a little so the paramedic figures that it was a 22 pistol shot or something along those lines. Then the husband complains about his back and when he sits up the paramedic realizes that a huge hunk of the man's back is fairly gone. He yells for the proper equipment then looks over at the group of cops and says "what was he shot with?" To which one of the good 'ole boys with a badge steps up and says "that there would be a 308 deer rifle, boy."

I still have no idea if that is police issue or not, but it would be a great thing to call the department and ask.

So what do you think - if you read this in fiction could you suspend disbelief and think people would be this stupid????? Or happy about shooting a man with a deer rifle?

Deadly DeLeon

Who Knew?

I've racked my brain all week trying to come up with an interesting topic.

Yeah...I got nothing. 'Cept a wicked case of blogger's block.

So I've compiled a list (directly from the pages of my journal) of 12 random things I learned last year for your edification and enlightenment (caution! segue) :

01.23.07 It's enlightenment. I've always articulated "enlightment." I am wrong.

02.28.07 Restaurant is the most commonly misspelled word in search engines. Restaurant of all words. How enlightning. (:-D

03.15.07 Nelson Mandela is dead. Seriously?

04.30.07 Kryptonite is REAL!

05.27.07 Adding milk to tea negates the healthy benefits. Bye bye chai!

06.01.07 The hotter it is the more difficult it is for a plane to take off. Such a thing to learn on a plane. When it's hot. Hooray!

07.04.07 Presidential election years are always leap years. How did I not know this?

08.08.07 Wait a minute: next year we will have an 08.08.08. And, hey! We've done so with January through July so far. Cool!*

09.03.07 In Ohio it is illegal to catch mice without a hunting license.

10.22.07 If all the Smarties eaten in one year were laid end to end they would wrap around the Earth two and half times.

11.22.07 It takes a gallon of oil to make a fur coat! Nothing like politics to serve with your turkey.

12.25.07 Bill Gates does not own an iPod. 'Sokay. I'm willing to bet Steve Jobs doesn't use Windows!

*Okay, technically I knew this but it just hit me this year. I'm slow on the uptake.

What new stuff did y'all learn last year?

Let's Welcome Nina Bangs

Omigod! I prostrate myself in abject apology for not getting this in on time. My excuse? Uh, I thought I was supposed to blog on the sixth. But when I visited the blog, I checked out the schedule, and there I was, down for the fifth. And yes, Christie did remind me. My bad. I’m truly sorry, everyone.

So what to talk about. I’ve been avoiding message boards because of a deadline that doesn’t allow for things like eating, sleeping, or going online. But I happened to take a look at a discussion going on about which was more important: talent or persistence. Interesting topic.

Obviously you have to have a modicum of talent in order to write something that has a chance of being bought and published. That said, I think it comes down to persistence and more than a little luck. I wrote for over ten years before making my first sale. During that time, I saw very talented writers give up or publish one book and then disappear from the scene.

What does it take to keep going? I’d like to say that I write only for the love of writing. The purity of that motive brings tears to my eyes. Unfortunately, it would be a lie. I write out of stubbornness, desperation, a strong competitive nature, and a desire to tell stories that are different. That doesn’t make me sound like a very nice person, does it?

First, stubbornness. I invested years of hard work in the writing process. Up until 2003, I taught fulltime. I got up each morning at 3:30 AM so that I could write before getting ready for work. After I came home from school, ate, and then graded papers, I didn’t have a creative thought in my head. I was in bed by about nine every night so that I could get up the next morning. So when thoughts of quitting teased me (and they teased me a lot), I’d remember all those hours invested in my writing and decide that, hell no, I wasn’t quitting.

Desperation is a terrible thing. Other than teaching and my writing, I had no other marketable skills. I knew I wanted to retire, but I’d have a tough time living well on just my teacher’s retirement. And I did want to live well, even though I’ve heard that some of the new organic cat foods are quite tasty. If I didn’t succeed with my writing, I’d have to supplement my income by subbing. I enjoyed teaching children, but I’d had enough. That meant I had to make my writing pay.

I’m nothing if not competitive. When I was in my teens, my best friend and I would walk down the street, and I’d count how many guys looked at her first. I know, dumb. I brought some of that same attitude (only more mature, I hope) to my writing. I’ve belonged to the same critique group for over fifteen years. We’ve given each other tough love when it came to critiquing each other’s work, been there to cheer each other on, and offered shoulders to cry on when rejections rolled in. Kimberly Raye sold first. She’d written a wonderful paranormal romance which she sold to the Shadows line, and I was thrilled for her. But I wanted that same euphoric feeling that she was experiencing, so I tried a little harder. Even now, when I read an awesome book, it reinvigorates my own determination to write the best stories I can.

And of course, I love writing stories. Plain and simple. I suppose it all comes down to that truth. If I didn’t want to create stories that would resonate with readers, I could find other things to be stubborn, desperate, and competitive about.
Thanks a bunch, Christie, for inviting me to contribute to your blog, even if I showed up a little late.

2008 is looking up!

Recap of this week's search for Mr. Right:
Last weekend I met The Artist on the Motorcycle for a movie and drinks. We saw Sweeny Todd (Great , movie, loved it!), then went to a little neighborhood nightclub for drinks. Mr. A on M was adorable. Great smile, gorgeous blue eyes, total gentleman. Amazing, huh? I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and his big reveal that he was gay, married or both. But, it turns out he was just a nice normal guy, and we had a nice normal evening. (Maybe my New Year really is looking up!) I’ll admit, there weren’t fireworks of chemistry between us, but there’s definitely a great friendship brewing, if nothing else.

Mr. Coffee (a.k.a last Friday’s date where Aunt Flo decided to come along) did finally call me. (Happy dance!) The down side is we haven’t been able to find a good time for a second, or as he put it, “real” date yet. I’m hopeful next week our schedules will finally match up. There was mention of a sunset over the ocean and dinner. (Tre romantique!) We had a lot in common and he’s definitely in the running for fireworks chemistry. Will let you know how things progress.
(P.S. Mr. Coffee, if you’re reading this, I have no plans for tonight. Hint, hint.)

In the meantime, (switching gears here), my writing efforts of 2008 are off to a bang! My short story “Confessions of a Bombshell Bandit” (available in the Dreams and Desires charity anthology) is up for a Predators and Editors award for best Short Story. This is a unique contest in that anyone can be nominated, but it takes reader votes to win. That's where you come in. If any of you would like to vote for "Confessions of a Bombshell Bandit", I'd be eternally grateful. Here's the link to vote:

http://www.critters.org/predpoll/shortstory.shtml

Just scroll down and click the little button next to "Confessions of a Bombshell Bandit", then enter your name and email address (they will toss the addy after the contest, so no spam) and hit "submit". They'll send you an confirmation email and all you have to do is click the link and, voila, you've voted for me!

And, for those of you that haven't read it yet, here's a quick excerpt of the story:

Confessions of a Bombshell Bandit

“You’re going to leave the car idling, then we loop around on Pico and take La Cienega straight down to the ten. No stopping,” I said.

Quinn nodded, her eyes shinning as her hot pink bangs bobbed up and down in the seat beside me.

“Here, Carrie.” Lynette reached her arm between the console and handed me a .22. I checked the chamber. Fully loaded.

Lynnie handed another gun to Quinn, who twirled hers like a wild west sharpshooter, almost dropping it on the upholstered seat of Lynnie's mini van.

“Ready, ladies?” Quinn asked.

Lynnie and I nodded as one.

Quinn pulled her Marilyn Monroe mask on. Lynette and I followed suit, becoming Mamie Van Doren and Jayne Mansfield. My vision instantly blurred as I tried to see out the tiny plastic eye holes.

“Just like we rehearsed,” Quinn instructed. “They’ll be so distracted, they won’t even know what hit them.”

“Right,” I said. Lynette nodded.

Then we all stripped down to the matching black and pink polka dotted bikinis we’d purchased at Wal-Mart the day before. We tore open the mini van doors, streaking across the parking lot of the Los Angeles Mutual Bank on Fairfax and Pico, guns drawn.

Quinn was the first to hit the front doors. She plowed in, her gun stuck out in front of her like an Al Pacino movie.

“Everybody on the ground, hands behind you heads! Nobody moves, and nobody gets hurt. I’m f***ing serious!” She waved her gun in the direction of a guy in a Jerry Garcia tie and Dockers who was making a move for his cell phone. He froze, dropping to the floor along with the other people in line on their lunch break.

Lynette came in a close second behind Quinn, aiming her gun at the security guard by the door who looked like he’d just started shaving yesterday. His wide eyed gaze bounced between Lynette's boobs, barely contained by the triangles of polka dotted fabric, and her gun, leveled at his chest, not sure if he should be scared or turned on.

I came in behind Lynette, making my way across the floor of stunned people to the third teller window on the left. I set my plastic, flowered beach tote on the counter and pulled it open.

The man behind the counter stared at me, his jaw stuck in the open position, eyes looking from the tote to my generous size C chest, the one thing I’d been happy to inherit from my mother.

“Hi, there” I said. “Empty the drawer into my bag, don’t even think of pushing your panic button, and keep your hands where I can see them. And,” I added as an afterthought, “stop staring at my tits.”

Score one for the Bombshell Bandits.

***

Thanks for the votes, everyone, and I’ll let you know the results as soon as I do!

~Gemma “Trigger Happy” Halliday

I do hereby resolve...to reach for the stars!

It's that time again. A new year. Isn't it funny how simply flipping the calendar from one month to another--one day to another--we somehow feel that with the turning of that page, anything is possible. I always feel that way at this time. The beginning of a new year is an invitation to introspection, an opportunity for evaluation and a catalyst for change. At the beginning of a new year we all look back and see things we'd like to change, things we'd like to improve on, things we'd like to have accomplished--and didn't--or things we just plain want to forget. It's a time of soul-searching, examining our strengths and weaknesses, and reexamining our choices both good and bad and then moving on.

Most people make resolutions. I generally don't. Why? Well, for starters just consider the word 'resolution'. From the word 'resolve' which comes with such stellar synonyms as: firm, unyielding, definite, unwavering, steadfast and persevering, it doesn't seem to me a resolution comes with much wiggle room. For me, it's pretty much set in stone. You know: 'I HEREBY RESOLVE'. I think of a resolution as a promise--a promise to myself and others--and because I do I'm hesitant to make any unless I'm pretty darned sure I can keep 'em.

And let's face it. How often do people actually keep their resolutions? Oh, most of us can last a month or even two or three, but most of us backslide at some point and by the time year's end rolls around, that same resolution is back on the table.

We all know the most popular resolutions. Number one is always to lose weight. Ten pounds, twenty, thirty, forty--one hundred. Don't get me wrong--I've battled weight issues. As a matter of fact, I tipped the scale at over 200 pounds before my triplets were born. I remember it well. It was one of the the last times I stepped on a scale outside of a physician's office. But once I lost the 'baby fat', I stayed at the same weight for the next eighteen years. I figured that was proof positive I'd found my ideal weight. As long as I can get into my jeans without damaging my diaphragm, I'm good to go.

Another popular resolution deals with nutrition and getting in shape. Admittedly, I could use some improvement in these areas. Still, I'm more apt to address this area by means of smaller, incremental steps. Back in August I gave up Coca Cola. People who know me, know how much I love Coke. It was my grandma's favorite and became mine, as well. But last summer when I was tackling a tight deadline and other life issues, I realized just how much I was drinking while I was writing, so in August I went cold turkey. And I haven't had a sip of 'pop' as we call it in the heartland, since then. It was doable. And it was time. Next up? I'm decaffeinating my coffee. Slowly. Over time. I'm down to one cup of the 'hard stuff' each morning. Baby steps.

Don't misunderstand. I do set goals and have for many years. The difference between goals and resolutions is that with goals you can craft them in such a way that, even if you don't achieve your ultimate long-term goals, you've probably achieved a number of short-term ones on your way to the biggies you can pat your back over. In writing goal-setting is extremely important. While your ultimate long-term goal may be to write within a new genre and sell that book to a second publishing house, the only thing you really have control over is the writing. How you write. When you write. How well you write. How much you write. Whether you sell it or not--well, that's always the million dollar question, isn't it?

Last year I decided that going back to school was something I wanted to do. Now I'm in school--and loving it. Well, most of the time.

So, this year the only resolution I'm planning to make is to resolve to work hard at whatever task is placed before me, to do my very best with what I've been given, and to treat each day as the gift it truly is.

Hoping 2008 finds you all reaching for the stars!

~Bullet Hole Bacus~

Repeat After Me! I Promise To Be Different! I Promise To Be Unique! I Promise Not to Repeat Things Other People Say!

(Photo of Santa as the Spartan king Leonidas for those of you who remember the 300 Spartan potato blog.)

Okay, so I plagerized Steve Martin on that one. Remember that album from the '70's? I must have played it one million times. Isn't it so cool that a guy in a white suit with an arrow through his head - whose tagline was "Well excuuuuuuuuuse meeeeeeee!" was just honored by the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts? Classic.

SO! It's that time to make resolutions. Usually, I hide the list so if no one else finds it (which also means that I never find it) - it never existed. Right? But this year I'm gonna try something different.

Prepare for...The ANTIRESOLUTIONS! Dun dun dun!

1) I resolve to not hurt my pets or children. (Kind of a no-brainer there - and easily achievable. I can probably check this one off right now! Woo hoo!)

2) I resolve to have a messy house. (My favorite one.)

3) I resolve to not to kill my husband in his sleep - even if he deserves it. (This one might be a little harder - but notice I didn't say I wouldn't fantasize about killing him - so there's a sort of loophole there.)

4) I resolve not to limit my diet in any way. (Actually - this may be my favorite.)

5) I resolve that excercise is considered cruel and unusual punishment according to the articles of the Geneva Convention - so I won't succumb. (Alright - I'm not sure this is really part of the Geneva Convention - but don't you think it should be???)

6) I resolve not to live up to any unrealistic expectations I might have for myself. (See how I did that? Nice, huh?)

Feel free to plagerize the list. I plan to lose it as soon as possible.

Happy New Year!

The Assassin

Life is Full of Surprises

Happy New Year!!!

Okay…it’s that time—the time when we reward ourselves for all we did that was good last year.

Right?

Or, are you guys like me and skip all the good things you did, and go straight to all the things you didn’t do? Now, don’t get me wrong, 2007 has been one heck of a year for me. But I’ve been so busy, I sometimes met myself at the door, kissed my cheek goodbye, and insisted I come home early. Then on top of just being busy, I’ve had some . . . well, crap to deal with. So, a few things may have fallen through the cracks.

Yup, I’ve got good excuses for not accomplishing everything on MY LIST. In all honesty, I’m not beating myself up over my unmet resolutions. Well, not too much! But those “things” have crossed my mind one or two . . . hundred times in the last 24 hours. So, what’s on my didn’t-do list?

I haven’t fit back into that size-five dress yet. I haven’t yet trained my dog to retrieve the mail while losing all jury summons and unwanted bills. I still have boxes of clutter in my office. My bedroom’s walk-in closet still can’t be walked into, (partially due to a lot of size five clothes—from seven years ago) and I haven’t learned to speak French yet. (And those computer programs promised I’d be fluent within six months. Maybe they don’t work just sitting in the bag under my office cabinet, huh? However, they really should have stated that on the box!)

Okay…so maybe I have some things to work on this year. At least, making my list will be a little easier. Just pull out the old one and re-date that sucker. But to my credit, and probably to yours as well, we need to stop and rethink about all we did accomplish. Some of those accomplishments may have even appeared on our lists (be thrilled for those) but others may have popped up, inconveniently of course, and demanded our attention by shifting our worlds ever so slightly.

Yes, some of them I could have done without—like that 48-hour stomach flu I caught (nasty), my dog’s stomach flu (really nasty), my son’s near excision of his big toe while kayaking with his dad while I was at National. (also nasty). Let’s not forget my lumpectomy (getting your boob cut open just isn’t a lot of fun) and my dad’s surgery (talk about being scared for someone you love.) And there was the closing of the company that employed my husband. Yeah, I could have done without several of those. But the truth is, some of those bad things led to some pretty good things. Life is full of surprises like that.

My bout of stomach flu kind of helped me research a few scenes in my upcoming book, Wedding Can Be Murder—nasty, but really funny. My dog’s flu, well, I can’t think of anything good about that! Now my son’s toe…we spent a lot of mommy-and-me time while doing some serious doctoring to make sure he got to keep the little digit…which he did. My lumpectomy—which wasn’t cancer—will also end up in a book—plus I can brag that I’ve been felt up by more men this year than I have in ages (okay ever.) And, as you probably remember when I blogged about it, I passed out tons of business cards with my cover on it to anyone who stood still long enough for me to reach for my purse. And I might have chased one or two down that got away. My dad’s surgery? Well, he and I had a lot of father and daughter time, laughed and created memories as he recovered. And my husband’s company’s closing led to him having a better paying job. Yep, life is full of surprises.

Now, all of this isn’t meant to imply that I’m against resolutions. Oh, heck no! I’ve already got my list re-dated and a few new things added to it. I’m big on goals. I guess what I’m really trying to say is that life isn’t just about meeting goals or resolutions, it’s about dealing with the crap that comes out of left field and lands unceremoniously in our laps—or, in my dog’s case . . . never mind. But to put it more eloquently, “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass . . . it’s about learning to dance in the rain.” I didn’t write that, but I was smart enough to buy it on a plaque to hang in my house.

So here’s my New Year’s wish for myself and for all of you. This year, may we reach as many of our resolutions as we can, may we avoid as many storms as possible, but when and if the storms hit, may we all learn to dance in the rain.

Now it’s your turn. Can you share a few of your resolutions? Or better yet, maybe tell me about some of your storms and how some of them maybe even brought about something positive. Life is full of surprises.

Happy New Year.
Crime Scene Christie