Tonight’s blah-g
Warning: Random thought processes may follow. Read at your own risk.
Just found out my November book got a 3 from RT (that’s Romantic Times to the uninitiates among you). Yeah, yeah, I know the drill — one person’s opinion, reviews don’t influence sales, nobody dies (except the heroine’s second husband, actually). Still. “Eh” hurts. I’d almost rather get a 1.
Then again, maybe not. I recently ran across a reader review of an older book online — man, she shredded that sucker. She didn’t even like what the heroine wore. I will give her one thing — she was thorough. And she actually thought the book was well-written, even if she did have issues with basically every element of the story. Which I suppose at least somewhat mitigates her “At least this one wasn’t as bad as the last one, which I absolutely hated.” Uh. . .thanks? One does wonder, however, why she tried again, considering her reaction to the first book.
Speaking of issues, think I mentioned a few days ago that I had some serious rewrites to do on my next Special Edition, since my editor thought my hero was “icky.” And yes, that’s a quote. So I’m in the process of un-ickifying him. The good news is, I think I’m making good progress. I may groan and moan — usually because I live in perpetual, heart-stopping fear that I won’t “get it” and my revisions won’t work the way my editor wants them to — but deep down (waaaay deep down) I do enjoy the challenge. Growth is good. Or something. In this case, nearly all the hero’s interior monologue has to go, but instead of simply rewritting his thoughts, I’m actually replacing the IM with more dialogue and action. You know, SHOWING? This is not a bad thing, believe me. And it’s taking both me and my guy in directions I didn’t think either one of us could go. So I’m exhausted, but more or less pleased.
As opposed to exhausted, but pissed, which may well be the case tomorrow, you never know.
Desperate Housewives — I have come to the conclusion that I have a serious love/hate relationship with this show. Adore the dark humor, the snappy dialogue, the delightfully wicked characterizations. Bree, Edie (ten points for the funeral hat!), Gabby. And Alfre Woodward rocks. I mean, can she do creepy or what? Her smile, her voice. . .[inject shuddering sound here]. But the plotholes. . .ohmigod, you could punt Pluto through them. Not to mention the five million commercials, which I’d sure like to punt Pluto through. But still I watch, because when it hits those high notes, it’s brilliant. Or at least deliciously entertaining, in a sick and twisted sort of way.
What else. . .oh, wrote and submitted my first official blog for Romancing the Blog today (see the link down at the bottom of the page, I’m too lazy to do the link here right now). But it won’t be up until Oct. 2, so don’t bother rushing over. Trust me, I’ll remind you when it goes live. And the books I sent for the AAR Katrina relief auction never made it to D.C., so I’ll be sending extras to the winner from here. We decided, if/when the originals show up, to send them on to the Nora Roberts/Turn the Page book drive for evacuee shelters.
Until tomorrow. Or whenever. . .
