Archive | March 2017

March 13, 2017

 I don’t have anything especially interesting or profound to say tonight (except that I still have tickets for Book Obsessed Babes on April 8 in Jacksonville, FL and For Love of Books and Florida in Sarasota on July 15).

On the “So are you actually writing?” front, I have written 2708 words on a short story that is funny and sexy. I want to have that ready for the author signings this year. And perhaps write a couple more short stories, the idea being an eventual bound collection.

I moved last November from North Florida to South Florida to be closer to friends. It’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. My life had been solitary and isolated up to that point: mostly living on my own or among people who weren’t all that friendly when the chips were down, at a distance from the office where I was working (when I was working) or, in the case of test driving, spending 8 hours driving 300 miles around Los Angeles, Orange, and San Bernardino counties then going home to a house sit. The center of my group of friends was 20 some miles away in the San Fernando Valley. I discussed this with a friend (who is 1800 miles from me): the scariest thought was that if I had decided to end my life, I would succeed because there would be no one around to stop me except myself. Yeah. Unsettling.

 I’m not trying to be the most popular person (and I am who I am. I bite my tongue a lot, but still…) and I know there are people who I like a lot and respect to the utmost who think I’m a loudmouth and a fool and tolerate me, rather than enjoy my company. That’s okay. I still like and respect them. I know that my words are better received than myself. That’s cool (buy my books. Trust me, you’ll love them). I do not suffer fools well. Nevertheless, I need human contact.

Since my move, I am part of a group of 7 people who get together on Saturday nights for dinner and some of us go for a walk at night at the local park. It’s wonderful.

I’ve reconnected with a friend from 25 years ago and she is still as warm and wonderful as she was then. My friend, Catalina Egan, known to you bookworms as M.C.V. Egan, is close enough that we can get together and do stuff. Author stuff, metaphysical stuff, just plain stuff. It’s excellent.

My soul, which had been withering a bit, is blossoming. I am grateful to be in this location, in this circle, in this situation. I am at peace in my life. And that’s where we all should go.

Peace and love and all that jazz

Peace and love and all that jazz

Somebody: free tickets! C’mon!

Ya Gotta Roll With the Punches

First off, I found this in the spam comments:

“Hi, I think your blog might be having browser compatibility
issues. When I look at your website in Safari, it looks fine but when opening
in Internet Explorer, it has some overlapping.”

Simple solution: join the 21st century and ditch Internet Explorer.

I’ve had some interesting days this week, including yesterday. Especially yesterday. I attended a presentation by the Women’s National Book Association (WNBA. No skills with hoops required. I have none). I get home, it’s late (10 PM. My day starts early), I’m getting ready for bed and Facebook Messenger pops up.

“Are you ready?”


Turns out, I’d forgotten that I had a slot in the For Love of Books and Florida 2017 author takeover and my turn was up in 3 minutes. Trust me: you’ve never seen a middle-aged fat woman move faster.

Thank God for modern technology. I did the whole half-hour in my jammies and nobody knew until now.


Anyway, that’s the story. I still have general admission tickets for Book Obsessed Babes (Jacksonville) on April 8 and For Love of Books and Florida (Sarasota) on July 15. Hit me up.

Bobase Jax 17 For Love of Books July 2017 Sarasota


Free Beer!

Nah. But…

On the off chance that one of the twelve people who read this is in the Jacksonville, FL area, I have 2 general admission tickets to give away for Book Obsessed Babes at the Omni (which is a woo -hoo hotel) on April 8, 2017. Taira Wilds and Sheer Bliss Events put on an excellent show/event/happening. Seriously, if you’re a reader,  I can get you in the door. Comment if you’re interested.

Bobase Jax 17

Book Obsessed Babes 2017 Link

I also have 2 tickets (General Admission) to give away for The Love of Books and Alcohol in Sarasota on July 15, 2017 at the Ritz (I shouldn’t need to say, another woo-hoo hotel). Comment if you’re interested.

For Love of Books July 2017 Sarasota

For the Love of Books and Alcohol 2017 Link


Mess Not With Authors

You know, I believe in peace and love, be the change you want to see in the world, what goes around comes back around times three, if someone bothers you, just wish them good luck so that they’ll be too distracted by it to bother you, I’m learning to meditate, I have an impressive collection of gemstone Buddhas, you get the idea.

Peace and love and all that jazz

Peace and love and all that jazz

There are times, however, when all that goes by the wayside and what I want to really do would get me three hots and a cot for years if not the rest of my natural life.

These times are generally tied to someone deciding they need to fuck up my life.

Case in point: Old man neighbor. I leave him alone. However, he tries to block the path when I’m returning from walking my cousin’s dogs (the Assistant and the Intern). Cousin does not want him messing with the dogs, I don’t want to waste time because I generally must get back to work and don’t have time to indulge him. He will try to distract them while I have them out doing their business by whistling. The Intern must have a form of doggy ADD because it’s hard to keep her focused on peeing and pooping unless she really has to go. She is his target because she is extremely cute. “Oh, the little perro.” And he will block the sidewalk when I try to return. I have taken to cutting across the grass. He has “chased” me to the door because I evaded him. He doesn’t like that. I almost threw a bag of poop at him. That I had picked up (the Intern’s).

Now he’s told the management company that I don’t pick up poop. It’s a lie. Just because I won’t let him do what he wants. So either he blocks the path or traps me at the front door while I’m trying to get animals inside. This is a tort called “false imprisonment.”

It’s also sexism.

I’ve had dealings before with cranky old men who don’t like my non-submissive attitude. You’re not paying my bills, you’re not running my life.

Now I have to deal with another old fart who’s decided to be an asshole because I don’t obey him.

And here’s where the meditation comes in. And visualization.

I am not seeing myself pounding on his door and verbally tearing him a new one. I am not seeing myself gently applying a baseball bat to his head.

Well, I can. Legally.

I’m an author. I can write his nasty old bossy ass into a story and kill it, beat it, berate it, anything I want.

You are warned

You are warned

Never screw with an author.

george rr martin

And he hates my Patriots

And he hates my Patriots