Judi McCoy

For those of you who don't recognize the lovely lady on the left, her name is Judi McCoy. I had the pleasure of meeting her in April 2008 when I attended the Romantic Times convention and enrolled in the beginning writer's course. Judi was our teacher. She was very honest and outspoken about what it takes to be a successful writer in the romance world, and she was great about answering everyone's questions. She was an inspiration.
At that point in my life I hadn't seriously considered writing as a career. I wrote to get the story out of my head. I wrote to shut the characters up. My friends and family liked what I wrote and encouraged me to continue, but I figured they were biased and didn't really count. Then I took Judi's course, turned in a ten-page excerpt from They Call Me Death, and waited for a professional's opinion. She liked it. Her critique was honest and encouraging. She said I really had a chance at getting published. Her words were the catalyst that prompted me to finish They Call Me Death and add the romantic vein. Because of Judi, I'm now a published author.
I'm not saying I never would have pursued a writing career without having met her, but I might still be unpublished today without her encouragement. She is already sorely missed.


If you've never read any of her books and enjoy contemporary romance, you're missing out. You can find all of her information here. My favorite is the goddess series.
God bless you Judi. You'll always be in my heart. 

Friday WTF?: Can't You Keep it to Yourself?

I used to think it was just me. Like, maybe I have one of those faces that makes people want to share every little tidbit of their lives with me. However, after the last couple of years of being steadily online and suffering the same phenomenon, I just don't know. People love to share with me. In person it's usually just me, but online it's the whole world. When I worked, I was in a customer service position and though I wasn't a bartender, or psychiatrist, I often felt I should be paid as one. Rarely a day went by that I didn't learn some seriously personal information about a complete stranger. Why?! I don't know. People just like to tell me things.
Online it's even worse. Facebook already tells us everyone's ages, birthdays, and locations. I can discover favorite foods, TV shows, and sports teams. However, the culture of over-sharing created by online social networks now has me going through emotional upheaval daily. Every single day someone out there gives me bad news. Death, illness, some form of loss. It's never ending. There are plenty of jokes and good news announcements too. I'm just curious as to why we all share so much of ourselves with people we will never meet face-to-face. Is it the promise of anonymity? Does that make us feel safer? I guess so. I'm guilty of making pretty personal announcements from time to time too, but the really gut-wrenching things, ya'll will never know.

WWWW: Protest the Real Problem

Last week I noticed an article online about people protesting outside of Apple stores because of the unsafe working conditions some Apple product manufacturers use. Okay I'm all for protesting, especially when it comes to human lives being at stake. I'm not saying this isn't a serious problem, but come on. Apple is just one of many companies using Chinese manufacturers for their products. Why? Because it's a hell of a lot cheaper than using US companies who are bound by US labor laws. So what's the real problem? First, the Chinese government's apparent refusal to have laws in place to protect their citizens from unsafe working conditions. Second, every nation's companies who continue to use the Chinese manufacturers. So go ahead and protest Apple all you want, but then walk around your house and check labels. There are a hell of a lot more companies we need to protest too if we really want to see change.
More info here.

My Forever Valentine

Work-                      roughened

hands and                ready smile,

your hazel eyes see           right through me.

From boy to man       before my eyes,

we've become compliments of each other.

What I never expected to last so long,

 has become my life-long living dream.

Through numerous ups and downs,

now fewer obstacles between us.

With four beautiful little smiles to

prove you were my destiny.

My friend, my partner

 and confidante,

my man and lover,

my husband.

My forever

Valentine.

 XO

Would you like to read another Valentine's Day blog post? Read Selena Robins' post here.

Who the Fuck are You?

Have you ever run into someone from your past unexpectedly and their reaction to seeing you makes you stop to consider the person you used to be? That happened to me yesterday but it wasn't the first time. In fact, this would mark the third time I've run into this person from my high school days who basically turned away when he saw me. Huh. The way I remember it, he was a total fucktard in high school who acted as if maturity was a bad word. We never actually got along but I didn't consider it any great loss. So what does it matter now? Well, for the most part whenever I run into people I used to see on a daily basis they're friendly or at least cordial. The way this guy reacts to me is so completely unexpected it just threw me for a loop. I initially laughed it off, but the more I think about it the more I wonder. Was I that big of a bitch to him that all these (nearly twenty) years later, he would rather act is if I don't exist at all than neutrally acknowledge my existence?
The first two times I saw him were both at our neighborhood grocery store. Yeah, this guy lives in my neighborhood somewhere. Funny. Both times he glanced at me, then so obviously looked away and kept walking it made me laugh. Then yesterday I ran into him at the elementary school. We were both there to present at career day but I didn't catch what he does for a living. I walked into the room, saw him and smiled (I think I even mouthed "hi") and he immediately turned his head away. I had to fight the urge to laugh out loud. It wasn't really a big deal to me then, but now it kind of bothers me. I don't really care that I'm being ignored. I care that I might have been so horrible to him years ago that he just can't get over it.
Well, the truth is I'll probably never know one way or the other. Our former mutual friends no longer talk to him and I'm sure as hell not going to try. Ah well, no sense losing sleep over it.