beth_bernobich: red mushroom (snobbish pig)
Seen elsewhere, an Amazon book listing gives the PW review as "The action never stops."

What's funny is that the complete PW review is listed right above, and the full clause says "...the action never stops long enough to establish or ground the setting, leaving a confusing narrative of demons and usurpers that threatens to be the first of a series."

Of course, this authorpublisher isn't the only one to tweak reviews. Far from it. It's just the contrast was too funny to pass over without comment.
beth_bernobich: Beak Bird (Beak Bird)
Me: *bouncing into the office* Remember that new novel idea?

R: The one where I take up golf?

Me: ??

R: Remember how *I* said if you started writing one more novel, I'd take up golf?

Me: Oh. But no, I'm not *writing* it. I'm just jotting down ideas for later. Then I'm saving it off to a nice quiet area...

R: *snorts* There are no nice quiet areas in your brain.

Me: *dies laughing*

oh dear

Nov. 9th, 2009 02:28 pm
beth_bernobich: obsessing (obsessing)
The Amazon page for my forthcoming collection shows an actual ranking. Which means someone preordered the book. Which means I'm going to be obsessing even worse than usual. (Even though I know better than to keep refreshing the page. Really I do. I can stop anytime I want. Um, maybe.)
beth_bernobich: red mushroom (sparkle kitties)
Me: Our kittens are dysfunctional!
Rob: They reward low expectations.
beth_bernobich: red mushroom (sagittarius)
Me: I love the internet!
Him: *pauses whilst slicing a bagel* What is it this time?
Me: Wax! Remember the candle wax that spilled all over the table?
Him: Not really--
Me: I typed in "Removing Wax" and the first hit gave me an answer. It's like asking Buddha, only less cryptic.
Him: *considers several replies and decides against all of them*
Me (continuing to babble): You just use a hairdryer! Easy! Or a medium hot iron and plain white paper...
Him: *deadpan* I'd use a propane torch.
Me: That's because you're a guy. This is a girly website, so we use hairdryers. Or the iron for carpets or cloth.
Him: What about lighting the carpet on fire?
Me: Now I know where M gets his pyromaniac tendencies.
Him: It's just a guy thing.
Me: That, too.
beth_bernobich: red mushroom (facepalm)
Him: So, when are you going to let me read your book?
Me: When it's done. Er, almost done. Oh hell, here's a copy.

*time passes*

Him: I've totally reformatted the text and designed a layout.
Me: That's nice.
Him: If your editor wants help in designing--
Me: No!
Him: But I--
Me (louder): NO!

*pause*

Me: So does that mean you've read any of it?
Him: Some. I found a few typos--
Me: Damn. Oh well, we can catch those during the copyedit.
Him: What about the coinage system? I'm an expert on old coins and the terminology you used--
Me (holding hands over ears): LALALALALA! I DID MY RESEARCH AND NOW I CAN'T HEAR YOU! LALALALA!
Him: ...anyway, it turns out you were okay with the terminology. There really is a gold denier but it's awfully rare and maybe you should--
Me (closing eyes and humming louder): LALALALALALALALALA!!!!!!!!!!!

*silence*

Him: Well, I liked it. Except for--
Me (uncovering ears): The parts all covered with girl-cooties?
Him: Yeah, those. Is the cover going to be purple?
Me: *puzzled*
Him: You know. Books for women. They all have purple in the cover design.
Me: *more puzzled*
Him: In fact, if we went down to B&N tonight, I bet we could pick out all the books for women just by finding the ones with purple on the covers. Like this one.

*pause whilst I practice deep breathing exercises*

Me: That's....That's military-based fantasy. Also, that color is crimson.
Him: Really? But doesn't she write mostly for teenaged girls?
Me: Sometimes. Not that one.
Him: But--
Me: *makes horrible gulping noises and runs away*
beth_bernobich: red mushroom (doggie)
*phone rings at work*

Me: Hello.
Husband: Mrfkt.
Me. Uh, oh. What's up?
Husband: Mice.

*pause*

Me: Inside or outside?
Husband: Outside.
Me: Dead or alive?
Husband: A variety.

It turns out that there was one dead mouse in the swimming pool. Frogs we get there all the time, some of them still alive and floating, legs straight out in a star pattern, with even bigger bug-eyes than usual. (Including one handsome bronze-colored creature, which I scooped out and gently plopped over the side, so he could leap away into the woods.)

But mice? We've never had any mice in our pool before. We figure that one of the kittens was chasing the mouse, which fled in literally blind terror across the yard, over the deck, and into the water.

The second mouse was a different matter entirely. Boy comes inside to explain how he couldn't finish mowing the lawn completely because there was a pregnant mouse giving birth in the grass. Really. We awarded him the most creative excuse ever. (Which caused him to complain mildly because it's not an excuse, you see, if the reason is a true one.)

Anyway the poor dead beastie from the pool has been scooped out. The mother mouse was left alone, but since Boris is still patrolling the yard, we won't know her fate until tomorrow morning.

Yesterday giant wood spiders invaded our house. Today there were mice all over the yard. I wonder what tomorrow will bring?

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