Now blogging at Me Want Food.

One of our recent publications at Phaze is Coming Together: For the Cure, an anthology of ultra-sensual fiction. In contrast to some of the works we publish, the stories in the Coming Together volumes tend to lean more toward the literary than any specific genre, but it doesn't make the stories any less titillating. Coming Together has become somewhat of a regular event for literary charity, with different volumes of works produced to benefit various organizations. The second collection for Phaze will benefit a charity very close to my heart - the Susan G. Koman Foundation for breast cancer research. Having lost my grandmother to this illness, and having lived through my mother's struggle (and eventual triumph), I am determined to do what I can to help the good fight. Net profits from every copy of this book will go to the charity, and all of the contributors have graciously waived royalties to line the coffers. All Romance eBooks has waived distribution fees to increase our net there.

It's pleased me, too, to see that other authors are as enthusiastic about this work as we are. Author Alison Kent has offered to buy a book for every ten comments made on her blog. Right now, she's exceeded 250 comments, and other authors are following suit, myself included. Even though I am the publisher, there's nothing that says I can't buy copies to give away, eh? ;)

Here is the deal: For every ten comments made here, I will buy one eBook copy of CTFTC. Maximum of 25 copies at seven dollars each. So my goal is 250 comments. Write what you wish, just keep it clean and respectful. If you wish to be in the running to win a copy and are over 18, make note on your comment and if I pick your name out of a hat you get the eBook. Simple.

We thank you for your support, and hope you'll spread the word about breast cancer awareness.

About the Book - At some point, virtually everyone's life is touched in some way by breast cancer. Whether it's a friend or family member, or even yourself, the journey is one of courage and compassion. Phaze continues its tradition of fundraising for this cause with Coming Together: For the Cure, an anthology of quality erotic fiction edited by Alessia Brio. All proceeds from the sale of this volume will benefit the Susan G. Komen Foundation.

"Few things reveal character as immediately and profoundly as the way someone makes love. And since the best stories are always character driven, what better way to get to know the players than by the way they make love? Call it erotic fiction if you like -- it certainly is erotic -- but once you get past the heat and the breathlessness, you'll see these stories for what they really are: tales of the intensely private, the palpably real, the profoundly human." - Barry Eisler, NYT Bestselling Author

Interesting. After posting my Van Halen rant, the official site has restored the original album in their graphics. The squeaky bass gets the grease.

If your last name isn't Van Halen, you'll be sorely outnumbered on stage. If it is, you get to use Photoshop to take twenty-odd years off your bassist. A friend pointed this out to me today. VH is gearing up for a big tour, and if you look closely at the Van Halen website you'll see they've dropped a picture of Ed's son Wolfie in place of the original shot of Michael Anthony on the cover of their first album. What's more, none of the albums done with Sammy are even displayed or mentioned, so I guess Victoria Principal dreamed those years as well.

Odd as it appears, it's not the first time this has happened. The Mamas and the Papas did something similar to Michelle Phillips when she left the group - a new singer's photo was superimposed over hers on an album cover. All the same, it's poor practice. Michael Anthony may be no Geddy Lee, but he was part of that band for a long time, much longer than DLR. For the band to disregard his contributions in this manner does a disservice not only to him but to Wolfie as well. Yes, Wolfie is the new bassist, but he should be given the opportunity to create his own legacy with the band rather than be a sticker on an old cover.

Got another time-waster in the e-mail today, a survey to determine your "Real Age." It's one of those tests that let you know all your years of partying and smoking and following the Dead on tour have shortened your life to the extent that you need to settle your affairs...in the next ten minutes. Unfortunately, I have never partied or dived headfirst into a crab-filled orgy, or followed the Dead on tour. Though, I am seeing Rush for the third time this year, but we all know how groupies fare at those shows. You need a Ph.D. to get backstage.

So I took the survey, deftly side-stepping all the opt-ins that would bring coupons for colonics to my inbox. I realize I still need to wholly recover from having Li'l Diva - my exercise has slackened and my diet is shot. For the first time ever I shopped at Torrid (what Mancow once called Hot Topic for fat girls...the local station here dumped him, BTW). I felt anything but as I modeled the kimono tent dress I bought for RT.

Anyway, my results specify that my "real age" is 42. I'll be 36 in a few weeks. I was just getting used to the idea of it until I got hit with this brick. Where did those six years ago? Why isn't Diva potty trained by now? How many tours did I miss? I still get carded for drinks, how could I be 42!

I'll admit, I experience a great amount of stress, most of it put upon myself. A full-time job, being a mom, part-time publishing, etc. There's no time to exercise, and right now it's 155 degrees in the shade and the last thing I want to contemplate is leaving the air conditioned bliss of my home. I do admit my diet could be better, but I'm drinking acai, damn it! That has to account for something, that wasn't even listed on the survey.

Part of me tries not to feel too down. 40 is supposed to be the new 30, so maybe I'm really regressing? If so, can I take the bag of Andy Capp's hot fries with me?

Blanche: I'm gonna live forever!

Dorothy: Not outside an institution.

I am not really concerned about how long I live, just that the quality of life is high from now until the Reaper calls. When friends ask how I'd like to die, I usually tell them that I'd prefer to pass in the afterglow, underneath the nineteen-year-old who mows my lawn. This is, of course, assuming Malc goes first. But he exercises and I don't. Though, I'm one up on him by drinking all this acai juice.

I admit it, I'm hooked on the stuff. If you haven't had it or even heard of it, acai is apparently one of the highest antioxidant fruits on the planet. Antioxidants are supposed to rid the body of free radicals and slow the aging process, help restore mobility of joints, and help train your body to eat healthier. Some acai juices are the foci of MLM programs, which distribute literature with testimonials about how the stuff cures cancer and such, but I couldn't tell you if it's that powerful. I do know it is an acquired taste, one I really can't describe. Acai seems to have a unique flavor - not quite blueberry, not quite pomegranate. I guarantee your first sip will cause a pucker and a doubletake, but if you stick with it you may just like it.

Of all the brands I've tried, I like Bossa Nova Original the best. It has a clean flavor, not much of an aftertaste, and I find if I drink it on a regular basis I do actually feel better. Whether or not that's a placebo effect from all the news and Oprah stamps of approval I've seen on the stuff, but I'll err on the side of optimism. If you want to gradually get into acai, I suggest trying a flavor blend - the mango Bossa is pretty sweet, and the blueberry is okay, too. The juice is smoother than other brands I've tried. If you are looking for an acai supplement, AcaiGogo is good stuff. You just mix a packet in a bottled drink, and it gives the flavor a boost. I like, too, that it is reasonably priced in comparison to the bottled juices. Bossa Nova can prove to be an expensive vice.

Now I just need to get my ass on a treadmill.

My vacation starts tomorrow. Part of it will be spent in Las Vegas, watching Rush at the MGM Grand. The rest will be spent in detox and recovery.

I'm really looking forward to this. As much as love G, it will be nice to be able to use the bathroom without wondering if she's going to open the door and run away. It will be nice to sit in a restaurant and not wondering if I'm going to be coated in maple syrup or applesauce when the check arrives.

If the latter happens in Vegas, I hope I have fun while it's happening, at least. But I think I'll be sticking to the activities that can leave with me. Rush, penny slots, the roller coaster at NYNY.

Actually, I'm only about 400 or so pages in, and the body count is lower than I'd expected. Nothing has completely infuriated me to the point of wanting to strap JK to a typewriter and make things right, but like I said I have a ways to go. I've been avoiding spoilers and such all weekend, though I'm thinking maybe I should do some research. It's been a while since I read Book Six, and I have to admit I'm a bit lost with the names and terms I don't remember from the last installments.

I'm wondering, too, if it's mere coincidence that at the release of Deathly Hallows, which may or may not be the end for Harry Potter, that I start hearing around romance blogdom the outcry of readers over a turn of events with a series by one Karin Slaughter. I've not read Slaughter's work, but she does seem to have a following, and with the latest release she apparently did something that her readers didn't like. We're talking a major plot point in her books, and the readers are unhappy. Annie Wilkes unhappy. I don't want to read your books anymore unhappy.

I look at these two entirely different situations - one the ending of a saga that has thousands of people around the world queuing up at bookstores at midnight as those U2 tickets were going on sale, the other a literal mourning for a fictional tragic event - and I am amazed with the level of reader loyalty and identity with characters that exists. I do get lost in books myself, but I had never considered it to the point where I felt characters became a part of my life, with the exception, perhaps, of those I created for my books. Yet, many of those characters are composites of actual people, so they feel real to me. Never once had I considered how a reader would react if I were to kill one off in a sequel.

I only mention this now because recently I obtained the rights back to Little Flowers, Saints Preserve Us and Pray For Us Sinners, three books I had with Wings Press. I felt it better to take them off the market until such a time I could devote myself to promoting my fiction. Out there, difficult to access, I felt they were better off with me. A third book in the mystery series had been planned but is shelved, and I had considered letting go of an important character. I doubt the outcry would be as great as what I have witnessed online, but I can't help but wonder if I would get some flack from somebody. I guess we won't know for a while, because I have to make time to make the kill. Until then, I still have 300 more pages of Hogwarts and Horcruxes to muddle through.

In the summer of 2006, I received a submission to Phaze by Bianca D'Arc. The name was already familiar to me via the numerous romance related mailing lists to which I was subscribed. D'Arc, it appeared, specialized in a cross-genre of fantasy and science fiction romance, something that was sorely lacking in our own catalog. Her novella, Sons of Amber: Ezekiel, offer an intriguing concept in the story of a genetically-enhanced hero designed to help repopulate the species when a virus fells the population of normal males.

Of course, there is a flaw in the plan. Ezekiel and his "brothers" are programmed to merely sow the seeds and move on. Ezekiel falls in love. It's set in the future, but it is romance, after all. D'Arc's writing was detailed, intense, and thoroughly engrossing. Readers seem to agree, too, as it's been one of our stronger titles.

Ezekiel features scenes that definitely set up for a sequel, one I've pestered Bianca for since Ezekiel was released. Finally we have it. Sons of Amber: Michael in the editing stage and will hopefully be ready by late summer. It is a bit longer than its predecessor and continues the story of mankind's struggle to survive amid reproductive challenges and the aggressiveness of an enemy race. Michael, like his brother, faces the same emotions that may threaten purpose. This, too, is romance, and serves as an excellent companion to Bianca's first title with us. You can be certain we'll bundle both for a print version next year.

This was the subject of an e-mail I received today. It's that time of year, when these publishers start touting books about books. I can't believed I missed out on doing stuff like this. Still kicking myself for not having written The Harry DaVinci Secret Diet. I could have been rich, rich I tells ya!

Getting back to the question: should Catholics read Harry Potter? Should they read Janet Evanovich? Anne Rice? Dilbert? Should Protestants read it? Should anybody?

People shouldn't have to read anything they don't wish to read. In this country, we are blessed with the right to read what we choose. Many people read Harry Potter books, and I don't blame them. They are entertaining, they are fiction, they are not the basis of religious thought. I don't think that was J.K. Rowling's intent when she came up with the idea. She wanted to tell a story, not form a cult. Though, with the money she's made, she could well fund one.

Yes, it's a story. Just like The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, which also has witches and talking animals. Yet Lewis' books are considered classics of literature while people would just as soon tie Rowling to a post and scream heretic!

Should Catholics read Harry Potter? If they take the book for what it is, a fiction, yes. If you're looking for the meaning of life, there are other resources for that.

I have a two-year-old daughter, therefore I should be accustomed to welcoming strange, furry creatures into my home by way of the television set. Talking and singing in high-pitched voices, they march in single file under my skin toward the ear canal, planting tiny earworms that stay with me through a day's work and a night's sleep. I love you, you love me...We are looking for Blue's Clues...Go, Diego, Go!

It is constant white, black, and rainbow noise in a living room littered with toys, around all of which my little girl manages to stealthily dance as she mimics the on-screen activity. Charming, yes, but I can't help but notice how some of these recent lunch box idols bear strong resemblance to the shows I enjoyed as a child. Considering how well I did in English, it comes as no surprise - I would imagine those behind the scenes recognize the quality of what has since become camp or cult.

In the toy section, Strawberry Shortcake and Holly Hobbie have received extreme makeovers in an effort to keep up with the Bratzes. On the Noggin Channel (the precursor to Nickelodeon - the first level of MTV/Viacom's cradle-to-grave ratings magnet) I see promotional ads for Hey Gabba Gabba, a new show aimed at pre-schoolers which touts "life lessons with a beat." A rather loud, fast beat, judging from the introductory scene splashed before my smiling daughter. Contrary to my initial thoughts, whoever's left in the Ramones do not appear to be involved.

From what did I manage to discern from the colorful rap-style music number in the commercial, Yo Gabba Gabba is an explosion of Montessori learning, cuddly costumed folk, and techno music (the term "gabba" refers to a style of hardcore techno music). Imagine H.R. Pufnstuf driving the Partridge Family bus and crashing into the main stage of Lollapalooza. That was my first impression anyway.

There are five full-sized "monsters" who appear first as action figures manipulated by one DJ Lance Rock, an energetic personality in an orange suit and Urkel glasses who presides over the turntables while the multi-colored (cultural?) Brobee, Foofa, Muno, Plex, and Toodee pop and lock and sing about good nutrition and manners. Checking out their official website, I learned that the production will feature appearances by hip-hop singer Biz Markie and is actually headed up by a former child actor who played Gloria Bunker's son on Gloria.

That actually explains quite a bit to me. No, I shouldn't expect to find the red-studded, cyclops Muno sitting in an easy chair pontificating in a Queens accent, but this does clue me in that the people behind the show are close to my age and more than likely found their influence in the same children's shows I watched.

Ah, the seventies, where everything on Saturday morning had to have been inspired by a cotton-candy laced acid trip. These were the days of talking flutes and walking puppets with huge heads, bell-bottomed teenagers singing disco alphabets in the foreground of a swirling chroma key screen. Oddly drawn cartoons and endless repetition of times tables and postal addresses. After twenty-plus years I can still tell you where to send your nifty craft ideas to the good folks at ZOOM! Boston, Mass, oh 2-1-3-4! Children's television wasn't an eternal toy commercial then. There were tie-ins to toys and clothing, yes, but nobody seemed to take advantage of the medium to create the demand. It's one thing I do like about the Noggin Channel, as my daughter can watch it without being subject to commercials. I, in turn, am not subject to the "I wants".

Getting back to the gabba: as a show for the younger set it seems to have all the elements for a successful series. Bright environments, colorful characters with enough charm to keep the attention of smalls minds, and a definite kitsch factor that won't leave parents embarrassed to have the set on when people come to visit. Could Lance Rock be the new Easy Reader? His outfit might not be easy on the eyes, but I have a feeling my daughter doesn't mind so much.

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I hereby claim this blog for Technorati, England, and St. Geooooooooooooooooooooooorge!

Before I became publisher of Phaze I worked the trenches in acquisition, reading and evaluating sensual romance for publication potential. Yeah, poor me, sitting around reading sexy books all day, but I should note that it isn't all glamor and bons-bons and vivid fantasies of Geddy Lee serving me Sleeman's Cream Ale. In the world of submissions to romance eBook publishers, Phaze gets a fair share of the pie, and more often than not I leave the table with a stomachache. I want to dispel right now the myth that, if a writer is unable to place a book with a traditional NYC pub, that an ePub will snatch you up.

Not if your work is crap, sorry to be blunt. I do see quite a bit of it.

Traditional pubs wants books, it is their business, just as ePubs want books. However, there has to be some potential in the story. Pornographic scene strung together by a thin plot with little content and character development will not make it here. The books are steamy to explicit, yes, but stories are told. Conflicts are resolved. Love exists.

My last two edits were books I picked directly - one before I took over as publisher, the other a sequel to a book I chose beforehand as well. As far as fiction goes - both stand on the complete opposite of the spectrum. One is a contemporary first-person narrative about a black lesbian trying to make sense of love and life, the other is a futuristic sci-fi romance concerning humankind's struggle to repopulate and protect themselves from warring invaders.

We're anything if not dull. Today I'll focus on the first edit.

Rayne Marzett was a first-time author when she sent us A Reason, A Season, and A Lifetime late last year. Until that point, our main focus had been on the standard romance formula with added spice - contemporaries and paranormal, with the occasional mainstream work and straight erotic. Reason was slightly different from anything we had offered before. Chrysten is a young, up and coming fashion designer from Tennessee poised to hit it big with a line designed specifically for "hard to fit" women. Not necessarily BBWs, but people who don't fit the mold of the more obvious designers (it reminded me a bit of Margaret Cho's former line, which seems to be defunct now). The hook is that the line is to marketed to lesbian customers, they need clothes, too.

Chrysten begins the book a free spirit, a girl in every port yet one loving mainstay at home. Only thing is, Chrysten doesn't realize how good she had it with this lady until it's too late. Just as her career takes off, her personal life hits a low, leaving her to reevaluate what she truly wants. Along the way she must reconcile with a few ghosts and handle situations that mirrored her former, freewheeling life.

Why did I choose this book? For one, despite the cleanup involved in the editing process, I like the protagonist's voice. She comes off as arrogant and confident in the beginning, but as the story progress we see her defenses stripped away gradually and with her we discover that she is not invincible. The love she takes for granted becomes treasured, and it's nice to watch her mature.

Reason is due in late August in eBook format and will retail for $5.50 at Phaze.

Buy Smolder here.

Back when I was still a lowly acquisitions editor for Phaze, I spent many an hour weeding through manuscripts. To some extent I still do, and I'm glad for the exercise because it helps me to comprehend what is worth giving to readers, and what is worth giving to an author. Not every draft is flawless, but there have been instances where a story arrived to me in battered condition, that I was able to polish into a solid book. Other books come to me, and I know immediately that I want them. Smolder, out today, was such a book.

I couldn't tell you exactly when I first read the story, only that Sammie had sent the book along with a submission for the Phaze Sparklers line. The publisher at the time was a bit overwhelmed, so I volunteered acquisition duties in addition to my regular editing. Weeding out the Sparklers was simple enough, but evaluating the longer works proved a challenge. I had marked quite a few for the reject pile when I came across Smolder. I was hooked by the prologue, not so much for the 9/11 angle (which, I later learned, was the reason the author had met with some resistance) but for the characterization and action.

Smolder takes place two years later when the dust has mostly settled. Firefighter Johnny had been in love with his best friend's wife, Susan, for years, but out of respect for his friend said nothing. When Susan becomes a 9/11 widow, Johnny quietly decides - after enough time has passed - that he is going to pursue Susan and make her his own. Doing this requires a remarkable amount of patience on his part. As the romantic alpha male, Johnny has plans and certain expectations of how his entire manner of seduction is supposed to progress. He is aggressive and distraught when things don't go his way, and to be certain Susan has a number of quirks that could try the patience of a saint. Susan is obsessed with finding her missing cousin, who in turn had been obsessed with a famous pop star. By virtue of the connection, Susan thus usurps her cousin's fanaticism, leading her and Johnny to become involved in the tumultuous personal life of an 80s pop celebrity who still managed to hang onto a tight, if not interesting following. Per the world of romance, there is a happy ending, and the hint of more to come.

After reading Smolder I wanted it contracted immediately. Unfortunately I was a bit too late, as the author informed me that another publisher made an offer, which she accepted. Disappointed, I soldiered on with the catch and release (or keep) technique I'd perfected, all the while checking sporadically for word on Smolder's publication. I saw nothing.

Fast forward to 2006, and I'm the publisher. I'm sitting in an empty classroom at Virginia Wesleyan College, awaiting attendees at a local writers conference. This is my first pitch session, where I would talk to writers interested in submitting work. Imagine my surprise when the author showed up to pitch Smolder, which was available again. I interrupted her and offered her a contract right there. Now the book is here at last, and has the honor of being All Romance eBooks Book of the Month for July.

Was the book meant to be with us all along, or was this just a stroke of luck? I couldn't tell you. All I can say is that there are moments when this little job I do is worth so much. Here's to Sammie Jo's success, may it burn like an eternal flame.

I'll admit it, the English monarchy is my secret fetish. I don't necessarily follow the tabloid's and track the every moves of Wills and Chuck, but I've always held a fascination for early English history, particularly the stories of kings and queens, and those who longed to be such. These days my idea of a good time is trolling through the Wikipedia collection of English monarchy entries, from Alfred to "Lilibet", catching up on a millennium's worth of gossip. I love the costume epics - Her Majesty, Mrs. Brown, The Madness of King George, Elizabeth. I wouldn't have minded meeting her, were I not concerned she'd have me drawn and quartered because of where I go to church. Some days I'll work the story in my head that I've been nurturing - a Bess fan-fiction with sexy results. Maybe if I time I'll write it down.

I don't get to read as much as I'd like. If I'm not editing manuscripts, or evaluating submissions, or reading Bear Loves Food to G for the millionth time, I'll sneak a moment to enjoy a novel. I'm on a Jean Plaidy kick right now. Her real name was Eleanor Hibbert, and she published nearly 200 books under three pen names: Jean, Victoria Holt, and Philippa Carr. According to her bio, she started in her early 40s, so there's hope for me yet.

Last week I finished Katharine of Aragon, a reissued omnibus of three works on the first of Henry VIII's wives. I already knew the basics of her story: originally betrothed to Henry's brother Arther, the Spanish princess was left untimely widowed and ended up Queen nonetheless. Her decline and consequent (perhaps, by her account, indirect) participation in England's split from the Church was precipitated by her inability to produce a male heir to the throne. Until reading the book, the only other representation of Katharine I'd seen was in the film Anne of the Thousand Days, which naturally portrayed her in a harsher light. There, she was the obstacle blocking Henry's chance at true, true love with Anne Boleyn. Much of her face time is spent storming off in disgust at one thing or another, all the while Geneviève Bujold pouts with wide-eyed wonder. We know how that story ended, too.

Plaidy is more sympathetic, and from little I know of author I do feel comfortable in her ability to portray history as accurately as possible. One of Malc's colleagues, a scholarly history prof, gave Plaidy a thumbs-up, as I do with this book.

There does linger a hint of the dourness seen in the aforementioned movie, but if you read Katharine's story you can't help but sympathize with her. This was a young Spanish woman, taken from the only home she'd ever known, away from the loving mother she'd never see again, to marry a complete stranger and essentially serve as a baby machine. She was a peace offering meant to unite two global forces, and in the perfect world Arthur Tudor would have been crowned, they would have had sons out the wazoo, and England would have remained under papal favor. Perhaps, for at least a few generations, we'll never be certain.

Instead, Catalina got a raw deal. Her husband dies young and leaves her virgin widow before the dowry is paid up. She's left to fend for herself and is no longer considered family except in the fleeting temptations of Henry VII to claim her for his own and secure a spare to young Harry's newfound heirdom. Harry, meanwhile is interested in the slightly older woman as a means to irritate everybody else. He'll marry her, why? Because he'll be king, damn it, and he can do whatever he wants. He sees in her a desire to submit and a piety that ensures fidelity, so England gets its Spanish queen after all.

It gets a Spanish queen, and a lot of dead babies. It's heartbreaking to read of stillborn after stillborn son presented in this book, while Henry blamed poor Kat. Never mind the possibility that Henry's genetics could have been a factor in preventing the births of healthy boys. Henry's king, damn it, and somebody must be to blame. Eventually, though, he decides to shoulder some of it, deciding God was punishing him for taking his brother's wife in what he convinced himself was an unlawful marriage. You know the rest: annulment, apostasy, beheadings galore. Kat, thankfully, was spared the blade, but sadly lived the remainder of her life in exile, clinging to her dignity.

It is a sad story, beautifully written and detailed, which leave so many "what ifs" to the imagination. Had Kat been able to produce a healthy boy, would there be an Anglican Church? Would Jane Grey and Mary, Queen of Scots have kept their heads? Would the Tudor line have extended past 1603, and branched in an entirely different direction, leaving Mary and Elizabeth as simple princesses/tokens to forge unions with other nations via marriage? Alternative endings abound. Scott once posed it was Queen Anne's womb that may have determined the state of our nation, but one has to acknowledge that of Queen Katharine is of equal importance, as it altered the religious map of Europe, and consequently shaped that of the Americas.

At any rate, I don't think I'd desire to be a royal. I'm sure I'd be safe from the Tower, but not necessarily the Sun.

How did a nice Catholic girl end up here? I don't know how the path took a turn, if it's a turn for the worse spiritually, or if there's going to be another sharp jolt to the right. One day I dreamed of authoring a lengthy cozy series set in a Crabapple Cove-esque town surrounded by water and alligators, the next I'm editing heaving bosoms and other body parts known to heave and thrust and pucker.

If you knew me once before, you'll know I had other books listed here. They are gone, not so much because I'm ashamed of them (I'm not), but because I feel they aren't getting the expose they deserve in their current situation. Unlike Pithed, you won't be able to order these books directly from a brick and mortar, or find them on a major online store by virtue of limited distribution. Since people prefer the quick fix, placing these books for sale is pretty much akin to setting them on an island guarded by sharks with frickin' laser beams attached to their frickin' heads, and handing readers snorkels. I never set out to get rich, but I never wanted to go broke selling lemons on the side of the road, either.

So now I've come to this reckoning point in my life: can I continue writing, what should I write, should I look for work more conducive to allowing me to write what I want? Here's what I know for certain:

I want to write full-time.
I want to enjoy what I do.
I want to be financially comfortable, and flexible with my time.
I want to move away from where I am.
Foremost, I want to be happy.

I haven't been happy in a while, despite everything I have and everything I've achieved. I have a beautiful little girl, I receive kudos constantly from authors with whom I work, I signed Piers Anthony to two books. Who else gets to do these things? Why do I cry at stoplights?

Another year and then you'll be happy, just one more year and then you'll be happy...this is one of my theme songs now. I'm glad Rush has a new album out, maybe I can finally switch.

How to go about doing this, being happy? Do I pray, do I employ The Secret, or flush money into hack sites stuffed with Adsense ads? I don't know. What made me happy before was writing, so I've decided to give it a try again. Not necessarily for money, but to let my voice be heard again, if only by myself.

You're welcome to come along for the ride.

Where I Was

Wallowing in post-partum depression, working in a job that was the suck, struggling to launch my writing career.

Where I Am

Wallowing in post-partum depression, working in a job that doesn't completely bite but it is ultimately not my life's primary goal, struggling to improve the sales and visibility of a small publishing house.

Where I Want To Be

Home, in bed. Underneath a hot, well-hung twenty-year-old. Front row at a Rush concert. Shelved at Borders. Anywhere but here.

Will I Get There?

Damn skippy.

More later. For now, amuse yourself with the sounds a man who makes a living hitting things with sticks:

Looks the like Webring is given a reprieve. I have a volunteer to take it over. Please pray for him. He's going to need it to fight the spammers.

Visit me now at THE WRITE SEO BLOG.

Here is where you'll find me now...

The Write SEO Blog

Over the years I have received e-mails from many a novice writer, asking for advice on publishing and promotion. That anyone would think to ask me such questions is both flattering and strange. I am hardly Dan Brown (thank goodness), but I appreciate that some people think enough of me to consider me an expert on certain things. I may not be able to sell my own work well, but maybe in time I can help somebody unseat Dan Brown with a good book.

After much thought, and even more spam, I have decided to take down the St. Blog's parish ring. I know it is a handy promo tool, but it is so choked with spam submissions that I don't have the time to keep cleaning it out. For every legitimate submission I get, I must get a hundred spam links. They are dust bunnies, multiplying constantly. I don't have time for it, you all are going to have to just beef up your blogrolls instead.

Received this in an e-mail this morning:

Salinas CA – A website dedicated to Saint Therese of Lisieux and Carmelite spirituality called www.thelittleway.com was launched recently by The Little Way, a division of Corpus Christi Book+Store in Salinas California. Saint Therese took the country by storm in late 1999 and early 2000 when her relics toured 25 states for 117 days. Over one million Americans venerated the relics, which were displayed in large cathedrals and small churches all over the United States.

Carrying holy cards and photographs published by the Saint Therese’s monastery in Lisieux, France, www.thelittleway.com brings hard-to-find images of Saint Therese to the general public as well as books about Carmelite spirituality and other Carmelite saints. Carmelite gift items and a selection of ‘favorite books’ round out the website which will eventually carry a wide assortment of traditional Catholic items from Corpus Christi Book+Store.

www.thelittleway.com is owned by Cynthia Kerr, a member of the Order Carmelites Discalced Secular who has had the idea for the website since 2000. “After my first visit to Lisieux in 1998, I knew that I wanted to make Saint Therese’s little way of spiritual childhood more widely known. Then one day, upon awakening, I had the thought to register the name of the website for some opportunity in the future. That opportunity presented itself when I purchased Corpus Christi Book+Store in February of this year,” recalled Kerr.

“Our dear little Saint Therese has had a huge impact on my life. Her little way of spiritual childhood gives each of us a simple path to holiness based on complete confidence and trust in Our Lord,” Kerr continued. “ I have been called to help spread her message, of that I am certain.”

Over 35 individual images of Saint Therese are for sale on the website, all printed by the official publishing arm of her monastery store in Lisieux, France. In addition, www.thelittleway.com carries several Carmelite titles and Carmelite gift items from American sources. “For the past three years I have offered these items on ebay and have had a great reception from all over the world. People who are devoted to Saint Therese know how hard it is to find these things without going to France,” stated Kerr.

I wrote a children's book based on the life of Miguel Pro specifically for a Catholic relief organization. The books were geared as fundraisers for the organization, themed around saints native to the areas they served. I wrote this book in my first trimester, and had been praised for it. A noted biographer of Pro had read it and given it a thumbs up. So I was told.

It was to have been published in the fall, close to my daughter's birth. G is now almost 2, and no book. Every three months I'd query about the book, and there was an excuse. This, that, the other thing. Meanwhile others who had written books for the company around the same time I did got theirs published.

I learned today the person who oversaw the publications is leaving the company. It's unsure my book will ever be published, because nobody knows what is going on. I was proud of that book, and now it will likely never be seen. I wasted two years wondering about it. Just another blow while I'm already in the mud.

I'd given too much thought to starting over again with my writing, and maybe this is the sign for me to do something. My books don't sell, and every missive to a Catholic organization asking for help has gone unanswered. Well, if you don't want to read it, why should I write it? Maybe it's time to consider secular fiction - cuss words and such. Pre-marital relations, blood and guts. Enough people do well by it, and I know I have the ability to do just as well.

I am supposed to auction off a character in my next book - winning bid gets a book character based on him. I don't have a book to write. Outlines for Ash Lake and Andy Farmer are unfinished, and I don't feel like revisiting them. I can't auction off air - I suppose something will have to be done.

From Fashion Wire Daily: new KISS coffeehouse...

As if this weren't enough to make KISS fans spew flames of joy, the band recently launched a premium denim line and announced plans to open the world's first KISS Coffeehouse on Tuesday, June 27th, in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.

And yes, Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley will be on hand to cut the ribbon on what a press release describes as "the most outrageous coffee and dessert shop ever constructed."And those itching to join the KISS Army can enroll here, as the café will not only be home to 20-foot-tall smoking KISS boots and rare KISS memorabilia and costumes, serve "KISS Frozen Rockuccino, the most caffeinated and refreshing coffee beverage on the market, as well as a full array of cookies brownies and cupcakes," but will also function as"an official KISS Army recruiting office."

Rockuccino? To think I'd believed Starbucks had the market on silly coffee names. I'll wait for the Rush coffeehouse to open so I can get my Geddy Latte.