'Tis the Season for Decluttering!

It's 'that' time of year again. With my annual tax appointment postcard reminder from my tax guy, also comes the reality that I have once again lost the battle against clutter for yet another year.

And it's worse than usual this year.

With three new college attendees and yours truly also enrolled in classes, the amount of paper alone has tripled.

It ain't pretty.

So, generally this time of year as I wade through stacks and boxes of paperwork for Uncle Sam, I also try to tackle the stacks of paper that seem to be taking over. This year has been particularly challenging with oodles of manuscript hard copy drafts to be shredded and disposed of. And since I've never met a shredder built that could take the volume I shred, I generally hand shred the stuff--and recruit the triplets to lend a hand.

Or six.

You can imagine how thrilled they are when I bring out a new stack of manuscript pages.

THE KIDS: Uh, what is this?

ME: It's a hard copy of ANCHORS AWEIGH.

KIDS: We shredded that the other day.

ME: That was draft two. This is draft three.

KIDS: How many drafts are there?

ME: Do you want the number I tell my editor and agent or the real number?

KIDS: What's the difference?

ME: An extra digit.

That's when the kids start remembering previous appointments.

Invariably this decluttering extends to other areas of the home. This morning I opened my closet and tried to find a pair of shoes. I needed a fork lift to sift through the contents. I have shoes in my closet that despite their being totally cool, I've never been able to wear without intense pain and recurring toe cramps since I broke my foot two years back-not that such discomfort necessarily prevents women from making a fashion statement, wincing or not.

So, I tackled my bedroom closet this morning armed with a box for Goodwill and a plastic bin for the 'I'll give it one more year' footwear.

I never realized until today that I have a pair of running/walking shoes for each day of the week. And, yes, they're all like new.

Sigh.

Next up were my book bins. Okay. So, I never actually got rid of any books. Maybe next year I'll get down to one bookcase in my bedroom...

I guess it's time for some real change in the decluttering arena.

Any great advice out there for organizing and decluttering? Any tips that you use throughout the year to keep the stacks of paper from reaching armpit level?
Any really rocking storage products you use to assist you in making most of limited space? And most of all, any tried and true methods for keeping from being buried in paper by year's end? I'd be eternally grateful.

And now--back to the shredding...

~Bullet Hole Bacus who currently holds the record for most paper cuts~

Happy Birthday Sami!

For those of you who don't know, this is my lovely sister Jenny. The character of the foul-mouthed but loveable electrician, Sami, in STAND BY YOUR HITMAN is based entirely on her. And she turned 40 today. Sweet.



This is the photo that appears on my phone when she calls or texts me. I took it at the family dinner table. At Easter. She was actually in one of her mellower moods.



Now, when I say that Sami is modeled on Jenny, what I'm really saying is that Sami IS Jenny. Mr. Assassin read HITMAN and the first thing he said (well, after he said my dialogue is improving) was that he was astounded by the way I put Jenny's words on paper exactly as she says them. Of course he understood that I had to hold back and censor myself somewhat. I don't think I can legally write everything she says.



Jenny loved the book. She texted me every five minutes while she read it (which made for a very, disruptive week last fall). She came to my signing and sat with me and took it to the IBEW local picnic this summer and told everyone about how she was in my book.



I've been waiting for a long time for Jenny to turn 40. Let's just say she really ENJOYED my 40th birthday. So this morning, like the good sister I am, I sent her a text. This is an exact transcript of what followed. I am not making this up.



Me: Happy Birthday Bitch! (I thought I should get into the spirit of things.)

Jen: Thanks Dumbass! (It should be noted that this is an improvement over my previous nickname of "Buttdart." It should also be noted that apparently I've gone up a notch in her eyes. After all, she calls Mom "Dumbass.")

Me: And how are you celebrating today?

Jen: Working, then taking my friend's dog 2 get cremated.

Me: Wow. How can I get in on that action?

Jen: Smartass. At least I have presents to open when I get home.

Me: I don't know. I'm not sure that can compete with cremating a dog.

Jen: Fuck off. See you tomorrow night!



Sigh.



Probably my favorite Jenny story (and there are many, many charming, Jane Austenesque stories), happened a couple of years ago. We were on the way to a family 4th of July thing. We were in the same car because I was the designated driver (it was eleven in the morning). Anyway, there had been a photo of me in the paper recently and Jenny told me that the guys at work were all talking about her lesbian nymphomaniac sister. This gave me pause. Nymphomaniac, I asked?



"Oh sure," she said. "Whenever the guys at work tell me how much fun I am, I tell them, 'You think I'm fun - you should meet my sister! She's a nymphomaniac!'"



"Um, you told them I was a nymphomaniac? WHY?"



"Dude! Because it's funny!" She laughed. "It's a funny thing to say!"



I then thought of an incident that happened a few months earlier, where I ran into two of her male, electrician co-workers and they were really, really, really, very friendly (which was weird because most of her friends tease me because I can read and can't open a beer bottle using my eye socket). I asked her about this and she laughed and said, "Oh yeah! They probably wanted to get into your pants."



When I asked her how many electricians in the Quad Cities she had told this to, she punched me in the arm and said, "All of them, Dumbfuck."



I turned to Mr. Assassin for support. He winked and said, "Oh yeah! Men think I'm married to a nympho/lesbian!" I left him alone to recalculate his now astronomical status in the caveman community and asked Jenny why they thought I was a lesbian.



"Cuz you got short hair!" She answered. It should be said she had long hair at this time. "Dumbshit! Everyone knows lesbians have short hair."



When we arrived at the party, I told Mom what Jenny had said about me. Mom frowned and looked at my sister...her youngest...her darling baby, and asked, "What did you tell them about me?"



Jenny laughed, "Nothing!"

Mom crossed her arms over her chest (wearing a cute little Mary Englebright jumper and ballet flats), "Why not?"



I had lunch with my cousin, Wendy two days later and told her the story. Wendy said, "There are a lot worse things than having several hundred area electricians think you are a nympho. And besides, I'm impressed. Nymphomaniac is a really big word for Jenny."



I still get winks and knowing grins when she introduces me to any guy she works with.



Oh well. Happy Birthday Jen! Love you!



The Assassin

Twas the Day After Christmas and the Cops Came to the Craig House

Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
It was about three in the morning when we were awoken with a bam-and-bang clatter.
We should have gotten up to go see what was the matter.
Instead, hubby and me both went to pee and stumbled back to bed.
Too early for there to be any sugar canes dancing in our heads.
But when daylight hit
I hear my son yell, “SHIT!”
And the bam and bang was suddenly explained.

(Okay, I’m gonna stop this rhyming stuff, because I’m bad at it.)

Here’s the unrhymed version:

The day after Christmas, at three in the morning my son’s truck, parked in front of our house, was hit. And hit hard. While the noise woke us up, we failed to investigate. But hey, it was three in the morning. When son went to leave the next morning, he found his damaged truck, with automobile parts, bumpers, grills and headlights and taillights, some from his truck and some not, littering the street.

You know, at age eighteen, having your truck (AKA: your hot-babe pick-up machine) damaged feels like the end of the world. It took me five minutes to convince my son–in his state of fury—that finding your truck wreaked in front of your house was not a 911 emergency. After talking the phone out of his hands (it was close, I swear he was about to call out the swat team) we called the police.

My son continued to rant. “How could this happen? Don’t you know I only carry liability insurance on this truck? Do you know how much it’s gonna cost to fix this? Why isn’t this considered an emergency?”

You know, I’m certain I’ve told my son that life isn’t always fair, that bad things sometimes happen to good people, but of course, teenagers never listen. Ahh, but my heart still bled for him and to prove it, I gave him my husband’s keys and let him drive his car for the day. (No my heart didn’t bleed so much that I’d give him my car.)

When the cop showed up, he crossed his arms over his ample chest and came to an amazing conclusion. “I’ll bet someone was drunk when he hit this.”

Duh, ya think?

I wish I could tell you that the cop was a total hunk, but nope, he sort of looked like the cop who shot Sue’s couch in my book, Divorced, Desperate and Dating. He looked more like Archie Bunker than he did any of my cop heroes.

Here’s how most of the conversation went.

Cop: They really plowed into that truck.
Hubby: Yup.
Cop: I’ll bet whoever hit this is sore and really pissed this morning.
Me: Not as sore or as pissed as my son is.
Cop: He’s only carrying liability insurance, huh?
Me: Yup.
Cop: Have you ever explained to him that life isn’t fair?
Hubby and I at the same time: Yup.
Cop: They never listen, do they?
Hubby and I: Nope.
Cop: I think some of these parts strewn everyone belongs to the vehicle that hit you.
Hubby: Yup.
Cop: I should take some of them to see if I can get a make of the car. Let me get a bag. (Cop gets a garbage bag out of his Black and White and starts picking up parts.)
Me: You aren’t wearing gloves.
Cop: Huh?
Me: You’re tainting the evidence.
Cop: Tainting it?
Me: Now they won’t be able to check for prints or DNA evidence. And it will be thrown out of court if they do find something.
Cop: (Realizing I’m either a smartass, crazy, or joking--little did he know it was all three.) Oh, damn! I must have left my gloves at home.
Me: (In my serious voice) I’ve heard of cops getting fired for less.
Cop: What are you like some crime-show or CSI freak?
Me: No, just a mystery writer.
Cop: I’m impressed.
Hubby: Don’t be. She makes up freaky crap and writes about it.
Cop: Laughs. (He’s looking and acting more and more like Archie Bunker—so is hubby for that matter!)
Hubby: (Half joking) You’re gonna call us by this afternoon with the name of the owner of the car, aren’t you?
Cop: Uhhh . . .
Me: Come on. It’s Christmas. Miracles sometimes happen.
Hubby: You aren’t ever going catch this guy, are you?
Cop: Not unless he walks into the police station and confesses.

(See, I told you, Son, sometimes life just isn’t fair.)

Now the real kicker came when the cop said that he had to go across the street and talk to our neighbors. No, they hadn’t had a car ran into, but someone had stolen one of their boys’ new bikes from the front yard, and . . . (this is where it gets weird) left a girl’s bike in its place. Would that make the thief a decent person or not? My question is: Is the bike swapper the same person who hit my son’s car?

Now I know you think I’m making this stuff up, but seriously, this kind of crap only happens in real life. And fiction is so much better, because if I was writing this, that cop would have been drop dead gorgeous, and I would have been 15 years younger, thinner, and single. Oh, and there probably would have been a body in my front yard.

So what about you? Any weird stuff to report? How’s your new year ringing in? Are you holding tight to those New Year’s resolutions? Come on, share a bit.

CC

Beautiful People - Mystery Solved

Over the last couple of months, I've posted some unsolved (or unanswered type) mysteries. Today, I have one that is solved. Have you ever been standing in the grocery store and seen one of those gossips mags? They always seem to have some candid (and most likely HIGHLY unwanted) shot of some celebrity, and quite frankly, if they didn't tell me who it was I probably couldn't guess. Especially those cheese-butt bathing suit shots since, well, I haven't committed movie star butts to memory for a couple of years now. Except Daniel Craig, but that goes without saying. My grandma would know Daniel Craig's butt and she's been dead for years now.

Now, I've always known that there's makeup and hairstylists and airbrushing, etc. but I don't think I realized exactly how much of a difference Photoshop was making in glamour pics. Airbrushing dark circles or blemishes is one thing, but check out this video - it's truly amazing.


Do you think these people would do my next author shots?????? I know, kinda against their whole principal, right? (sigh) Now I understand why sales on facial products stay high regardless of the economy - not to mention a plastic surgeon on every block. People are quite literally trying to achieve a look that is better fiction than what I write.

Well, I have Photoshop myself now. I guess I better get to being an expert so I can be thinner, younger, have thick hair, perfect teeth, and beautifully arched eyebrows. Hey, that way if I ever get really, really famous, I'll never run the risk of being recognized at the local Walmart. :)

Deadly DeLeon

Author Elisabeth Naughton

Please help me welcome our very fist guest blogger of 2009, Elisabeth Naughton! Elisabeth’s debut book, Stolen Fury, has just come out and I can’t wait to read it. Leslie and I were lucky enough to hang out with Elisabeth in San Francisco last summer, and in addition to be an awesome writer, let me tell you she is a totally fun dinner date. :) So, take it away, Elisabeth…


The Single Greatest Lines

Happy New Year to the gang at Killer Fiction! It’s so hard to believe 2009 is already here. For months and months I’ve been looking forward to the end of December and the release of my debut romantic suspense, STOLEN FURY. Now it’s come and gone and 2009 is here with a vengeance. And I can’t help but wonder…where did the time go?

I won’t bore you with resolutions or recaps of the past year. But with release day here and gone, I’ve been thinking back to some of the best comments I’ve received since I got word my book would soon hit the shelves. These are some of my favorites:

From my sister-in-law, after she saw the cover of the book. “Oh, my! How on earth did you convince your publisher to put a picture of you and Dan (my husband) on the cover of your book?!”

Local used bookseller. “You? Wrote a book? Seriously? If that’s the case I should be able to order it through Ingrams.” (Surprised, after checking computer…) “Oh. Well. Look at that. I guess you did.”

My mother, after reading the book. “I liked it. But…but…Elisabeth! You don’t talk like that!”

Ahem. I could explain to my mother, until I’m green in the face, that it’s not me talking like that but my characters. However I’m pretty sure she would never understand. My hubby (as you can well imagine) is eating it up the fact people think he looks like the model on the cover of the book, and as for that used bookseller? Well, let’s just say I’m sure he’s in for an even bigger shock about little ol’ me if he ever actually reads the book.

It’s entertaining to hear what people think about books and authors. The newspaper reporter who interviewed me this week asked (after hearing my book is being compared to Romancing the Stone) if I’m a real life Joan Wilder. My answer (after a good chuckle)? “Well, I guess. If you don’t count the fact I live in the suburbs, I’m happily married and have three kids who spend all day screaming at the top of their lungs just because it’s fun.” Now that the book is out, I’m bracing myself for more colorful comments. Amongst my neighbors there’s a real “curiosity” factor as to what I’ve been writing about all these months, holed up in my house. And I’m sure everyone who knows me will be undoubtedly be wondering if this or that character is based on them. Next week is my big local launch party in celebration of the release. I plan on smiling a lot, nodding and leaving them all wondering just what else is going on in my little head.

What about you? What’s the best line you’ve ever heard someone ask (or tell) an author?

Oh…and before I forget…In honor of STOLEN FURY’s release, I’m running a FUN, interactive contest on my website. Are you searching for Fortune & Glory? (And who isn’t in this economy?) Simply go to www.elisabethnaughton.com/fortune.html to enter and play. Embark on your very own quest, partner up with a sexy treasure hunting guide and enter to win a $100 VISA gift card!



Elisabeth Naughton
www.elisabethnaughton.com

Recap of meeting the family

Happy New Year everyone!

I hope you’ve all recovered from New Year’s Eve and are enjoying your 2009 already.

Well, as promised, this week I’m giving the full rundown on my Christmas Eve first meet with Mr. Big’s family.

Christmas Eve we went to his sister’s house to meet Sis, Brother-in-Law, and Mom. I arrived at Big’s place a few minutes early, so he pours us a couple drinks and tells me to open my gifts. Yay, I love presents! He has the most adorable card for me (awww!), then hands my gift. A certificate for the nicest, most expensive spa in town. I love it! Then, he says open your other gift. There’s more? Sweeeeet. So he hands me another package. I rip it open. Coach. A GORGEOUS, big, Coach designer purse. My face looked like this ---> then this --> then this -- >

It was the single most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on. Needless to say, nothing could ruin my evening after that.

So, we drive to Sis’s house where, as soon as I walk in the door, I am accosted by three very large, hairy dogs. As I may have mentioned on this blog before, I am a fan of dogs – I just can’t breath around hem. Yep, super allergic. I excuse myself and immediately take an allergy pill. Which seems to work fine for most of the evening. Luckily, the dogs seems pretty well behaved. I was rubbed up against, licked, slobbered on, and at one point I think my calf became the male dog’s date, but none of them jumped or shed on me too much, so I was happy.

The family was SO incredibly sweet. They all bought me gifts even though I’d never met them. We had some killer mojitos and dinner was fabulous! Artichoke dip, bruschetta, this incredible corn soufflé, and the most to die for chocolate mouse cake. So incredibly good I could have eaten the entire thing myself.

But, the best part…

After dinner Big’s mom hands me a “little something”. A red, patent leather Dolce and Gabbana clutch. Repeat of .

Big “confesses” that his Mom is his designer purse connection. Apparently she deals in imported designer handbags.

I love this family.

She asks if I’d like to see some more. Um, does a bear go poo poo in the woods? Yes! So, she takes me in the other room and there is a row of the most gorgeous purses ever. Brand new designer bags in all shapes and sizes in a pretty little row. Jimmy Choo, Dolce, Chanel, Coach. All my friends are there! I swear I started having heart palpitations. And then, she said the two most beautiful words I have ever heard.

Pick one.

I think I actually had a mini heart attack. Then grabbed a gorgeous read Chanel purse and decided then and there that if thing don’t work out with Big I will have to go lesbian and seduce his sister because I must be part of this family.

So, the first meet was a success. Fingers crossed things continue to go well in the new year!



~Trigger (and Handbag) Happy Halliday

Welcoming 2009!

Happy New Year Everyone! Or at least happy new year to those of you able to drag themselves out of bed and in front of a computer this morning. With the exception of some sinus congestion, my head is clear. Or as clear as it gets...

How did you see 2009 in? Did you see '09 in? Our celebration was pretty low-key. A little pizza, some obligatory junk food, and games. Hardly glamorous, but safe and low-risk. Except for the calories.

I always try to do something productive on the first day of each year, holding to that 'what you do on the first day of the year, you do all year round' notion. I figure if I spend some time with my family, some time with my writing, and some time reflecting on life in general, I've got it pretty much covered.

Today, however, will also see me glued to the TV from 10 A.M. CST to whenever. You see, I live in Iowa and the Iowa Hawkeyes are playing in the Outback Bowl today. They'll probably be more partying going on in our state this morning and early afternoon than there was last night. GO HAWKEYES!!!



It's an unexpected bowl appearance. Nobody anticipated the Hawkeyes would have such an incredibly successful season this year, so the bowl bid is doubly thrilling.

So here's what's on tap for Bullet Hole this first day of 2009: A little bit of filing and sorting, a little bit of reading and writing, some quality time with the younguns, three hours rooting the Hawkeyes on to victory,(hehe!) some time reflecting on the past year and looking ahead to the new one, and absolutely NO COOKING!!!!

Okay, your turn. How did you ring in the new year? What plans do you have for the first day of 2009--or for the new year in general? Do you set goals or resolutions each year or do you see how things shake out and take each day as it comes? How good are you at keeping the resolutions you do make?

Wishing you all a healthy, happy, safe and prosperous 2009!

~Bullet Hole Bacus~