Okay–whose idea was it to put huge limitations on the human body? Seriously? I’ve been writing…WRITING for the sake of heaven–not running or jumping or beating up small mammals or hunting prehistoric arctic bear, and for the last few days I’ve been waking up to a back and shoulders who are saying, in collective harmony, “Fuck you, heifer, fuck you and the spine you rode in on, we’re having a rebellion!”
To the muscle groups screaming in agony because I’ve been hunched over a keyboard for ten days? I hate you all. ‘Nuff said.
So, because of that and a brain that is still the unfortunate texture of oatmeal, it will probably be a short post, but there are some items on the agenda.
First off–Ladybug isn’t sleeping, and apparently, when Ladybug don’t sleep, don’t nobody sleep. If I compare my brain to oatmeal one more time, I’m going to have a REALLY unfortunate sneeze, so, well, you get the picture. Amy Lane, Zombie Queen.
Second off–You won’t be ‘waiting’ for ‘Waiting’ much longer–if my back and neck would only behave and hold off on that tantrum for a few more days, I will have it to you in the next two weeks. And then it’s all me and RAMPANT, until such time as the bank account says I can print Bitter Moon II. (*sigh* I hate having it wait like that…I worked so hard to finish it in time to come out this fall…it’s just wrong. Wrong I say, sick and wrong.)
Third off–Ladybug again. She was sitting at the table, eating a chocolate with all the daintiness of a member of the royal family while making nom-nom noises and saying, “mmmm…chocolate….”
“Gees, Ladybug, you’re such a girl!”
“Yes, mama. I AM a girl!” And so she is:-)
And finally…
Curmudgeonly Colleague approached me today, all glittering and alight with disgust and censure because of my crack in the last post about going home to write some ‘guy/guy werewolf porn’. I assured him that really, I was speaking in hyperbole, and he said, “Thank God. Knowing you, I know you could probably actually do that!”
And then I felt guilty.
Uhm…for those of you who have read ‘Yearning’ (easily accessible on my web-site, Mr. Curmudgeonly Colleague, if you’d like a chance to issue a rejoinder) could you, uhm, help me out here with reasons why it’s not just ‘guy/guy werewolf porn’? It sounds self-aggrandizing when I say it, but I know the story has more substance than that, and I’m so deep into ‘Waiting’ that I just can’t form words of self-defense and persuasive prose when I’m coming up with, well, Alternative Lifestyles Romance prose… So, if you’ve read the story and liked it, feel free to comment and tell me why it’s NOT porn.
(And if it IS porn, then I apologize, Mr. CC–yes. Apparently that’s what I’m writing right now, but that DOESN’T mean you wouldn’t like Bitter Moon!)
I appreciate your sacrifice that I may enjoy your efforts. Does Mate do shoulder rubs? That certainly wouldn’t hurt to ease those shoulder muscles.
Don’t you just hate it when your body doesn’t cooperate? Seems like it happens more and more as I get older. Sucks.
I would say it’s a romance, and leave it at that… It’s about two people, one of whom thinks he’s unloveable and the other who adores him and how they sort it out… It’s about relationships and how we mess them up or don’t.
Hmm, CC, people who eavesdrop rarely hear good things about themselves. If you’re not in the conversation, don’t get your undies in a bundle about the topic.
Thermawraps, though a tad spendy, DO THE TRICK for spazzing shoulders and necks.
Hug the bug for me. Us girls gotta stick together!
Have I told you lately that I love you? You are a rare jewel in the crown of my joys.
Shoulder pain? I know that feeling. Time for pool and maybe some stretches. Hope you feel better soon so you can finish up.
Shoulder rubs should force those muscles back into compliance with the program. And I would go with romance fiction. No need to be specific. Who cares if it’s werewolves, weresheep or werechipmunks (now that’s a scary thought). Love is love.
I spun for two hours last night and my hands and shoulders are rebelling mightly.
Eehh – it’s porn of a sort, but that doesn’t change it’s potential to be a good story. There is probably a lot of much more graphic prose out there that is classified under “Romance” instead. If you ever saw the South Park where Mr. Garrison tries to be a writer, you know what I’m talking about.
If it has a plot, it’s not just porn…it’s a steamy romance.
I’ve been waking up in a similar state after several days of packing and sleeping on the floor. I wish I knew some way to magically unkink the shoulders, but the thing I like next-best is a heating pad wrapped in a just-barely-damp towel.