Lisa Hendrix

Raisin Brahms!

Enjoy!

via Boing-Boing

My friend and one-time critique partner, R. Scott Shanks, Jr., has been having some frustrations getting his website up and running, so he decided to post to his blog, instead.  Click the link. Read. Enjoy. Remember that he wrote the following in a timespan of approximately 17 minutes, and know that he is a far better writer than I—than almost anyone—and some agent should make a fortune off him when he finishes his book. 

( In an effort to distance myself from my ire, I pulled out the Majency Oracle and asked Shannon for a number. She quoth: 72, so that was the card I selected as a writing prompt. Thus: )

King Ozymandias of Assyria was running low on cash after years of war with the Hittites. His last great possession was the Star of the Euphrates, the most valuable diamond in the ancient world. Desperate, he went to Croesus, the pawnbroker, to ask for a loan. Croesus said, “I’ll give you 100,000 dinars for it.” But I paid a million dinars for it,” the King protested. “Don’t you know who I am? I am the king!” Croesus replied, “When you wish to pawn a Star, makes no difference who you are.”

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Okay, my secret is out.  I like puns. If you do, too, please share your favorite in Comments.  I would love to start a collection.  Shaggy Dog stories are good, too!

If you don’t have a good one, check out  R U SERIOUS for more groaners.

Enjoy,

PS:  Per Wikipedia, paronomasia is “a phrase that deliberately exploits confusion between similar-sounding words for humorous or rhetorical effect.”  In other words, a pun.  See, you can groan and learn at the same time.

Is something in the air?  Discussions of romance book covers are suddenly all over the web.

First I popped into DearAuthor and found Cover Identification, Susan Holloway Scott’s well-illustrated overview of romance covers from the various publishers. (Lovely cover, btw, Susan.)

Then I ran into a post at Word Wenches titled Cover Conspiracy, which responds to an article in the Philadelphia Inquirer about how romance covers “say women are dumb” (the PI’s words, not mine or the Wenches!). 

And then I opened a Barnes and Noble email expecting an e-coupon and discovered instead an announcement of a new feature series at B&N.com called “Cover Story” which features the artists/art directors who are responsible for book covers (coming soon — a romance cover designer by the name of Judy York).  

All of which demonstrates how ideas propagate through by some mysterious means—which is why an editor will suddenly get five stories about singing swords and pregnant window-washers in one month (no, no one ‘stole’ your idea).

And which also reminds me of the wonderful World of Longmire romance cover spoofs, which I didn’t discover today, but which still make me snort most unattractively.

Around the Hendrix household, Mother’s Day means I get to be bossier than usual…but only in the nicest way, of course. To avoid boxes of chocolate that wind up on my hips and flowers that wind up in the compost pile, I’ve taken to being very specific about what I want for Mother’s Day.  This year it was Lemon Ricotta Pancakes from a recipe that appeared in the local paper this week, a strong suggestion for Jewelry to be picked out by my daughter (who understands my tastes quite well and has since she was, like, four), and an outing to the local Arts Festival, which the city fathers wisely hold on Mom’s Day weekend so that we can force our families to join us. Otherwise, I suspect the streets would be full of unaccompanied women.

So, the pancakes were excellent. The recipe called for blueberry compote on top, but we were unexpectedly short of blueberries, so the above-mentioned daughter opted for raspberries. Superb choice. These pancakes are almost, but not quite, South Beach friendly, so I’m going to tweak the recipe a bit, and then I’ll post it here.

The jewelry somehow morphed into an FM transmitter for my iPod.  I was so excited, it didn’t even notice the lack of precious metals until much later. Usually things with cords are off-limits for holiday gifts unless I specifically ask for it — like the Dremel I requested one year. But the kids knew I’d been looking at the FM transmitters, so they suggested it to the Big Guy and the three of them split it.  Now I can listen to my RWA Workshop recordings while I tool around town or have music in “the gaps” when I travel — where we live is surrounded by mountains and far from any other population center of any size, so when we leave town, there are miles and miles with NO RADIO. Barbarous. Boring.  And now, solved, thanks to my kids!

After breakfast, and after forcibly disconnecting my son from his iPod, we trekked off to the Arts Festival. The plaza and two streets were blocked off for art booths, garden stuff, food, demonstrations, children’s activities, and the pièce de résistance, the Smudge Pot Art competition. Smudge pots are the old style orchard heaters that gave off lots of smoke to keep the trees warm when temperatures dipped below freezing (the one on the left in the pic is pretty much unmodified except for paint).  I live in orchard country, and there are plenty of them around, though they’re seldom used any more (thank goodness).

Once a year, our local artists go nuts and decorate one, using whatever techniques strike their fancy.  It’s our version of the art-cows that some towns host, and as in the case of the cows, the results range from sublime to silly. The picture is of a previous year, but you get the idea. This year, someone quilted a watercolor-style cover for the entire smudge pot, including stack. Another artist wove a multi-colored, fringe-y covering. One had an adorable folk-art chicken nesting on top. Everybody votes, and then the smudge pots are auctioned off to benefit local arts organizations. (Here’s more on the pots and the auction.)

Smudge pots are, however, are not the sort of thing I’d display in my house—even the quilted one, as beautiful as it was (sorry, didn’t get a pic).  But one of the local quilters groups (the Material Girls) was auctioning off the most amazing quilt. I never buy raffle tickets for anything, except at RWA functions that benefit literacy, but I plunked down my money today without hesitation.

Here’s the pic the Big Guy took. Even with the odd sun angle and the shadow of the overhead power line and the raffle information pinned to it, you can see how amazing it is. Click here to get to a bigger version.

I want this quilt. I lust after this quilt. I will win this quilt.

When I do, I will take a better picture of it to post here, and then I’ll redecorate my entire bedroom to go with it. The raffle isn’t until November 9, though, and I fear my fingers and toes will be cramped beyond use by then from being crossed. Will someone kindly take shifts with me?

So, that was the planned portion of my day.  Once we got home, I plunked down to take a nap, eat BLTs (yum), and then fired up the computer while I watched some of the Eureka marathon on SciFi Channel, which I enjoy a great deal (any excuse to watch Matt Frewer—and Colin Ferguson isn’t too shabby, either).

And that’s when I discovered that IMMORTAL WARRIOR is now available for pre-order on Amazon, a lovely surprise, even if the cover and the rest of the info aren’t up yet.

So, all in all, a great day. Please share what you did today, whether you celebrated Mother’s Day or not.

I’ll be back later this week with something more “writerly.”  Have fun ’til then.

Rose graphic courtesy Pat’s Web Graphics

Yesterday I received an email from a new fan who had discovered Runaway Bay on her bookshelf (she’s not sure how it got there) and enjoyed it.  I answered, of course, and we traded a couple of rounds of email.  Then, yesterday afternoon, she sent me this:

This is Abigail.  Here’s what her mother had to say:

I know this looks like a staged photo but what makes it so great is that it absolutely is not. I had your book on the table and she picked it up. I thought it was rather serendipitous that the same day I correspond with you my daughter gives me this unexpected opportunity for a great photo. 

Now you have photographic proof that your writing appeals to all ages. I think I will keep her away from the love scenes for as long as I can though. I promise to stop crowding your email, this pic was just too cute to keep to myself. 

Okay, I know she should be reading Pat the Bunny, but I can’t help grinning like a fool.  Thanks to her mom, Brooke, for giving me permission to post.

Okay, my science geek side is showing a little in these last couple of posts.  I have a bachelor’s in Biology. It’s part of what makes me a kick-ass researcher.

I found the following posted on the Facebook Wall of sister romance author Liz Fielding.  It’s an interesting test of how your mind works.  If you can read it, you’ll understand the test.  If you can’t, never fear — I’ve translated it after the jump.  And if you’re a writer, well, don’t send in a manuscript written on this principle unless you just adore rejection letters.

Cna yuo raed tihs? Olny 55 plepoe out of 100 can. 

I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid! aoccdrnig to a rscheerarch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno’t mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod aepapr; the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt! 

Read the rest of this entry »

Yep, our English ancestors enjoyed naughty jokes, riddles, and puns, just as much as we do. Inspired by a post by Janelle Denison at Plotmonkeys, I offer this riddle in the same spirit:

I’m a strange creature, for I satisfy women,
a service to the neighbors! No one suffers
at my hands except for my slayer.
I grow very tall, erect in a bed,
I’m hairy underneath. From time to time
a beautiful girl, the brave daughter
of some churl dares to hold me,
grips my russet skin, robs me of my head
and puts me in the pantry. At once that girl
with plaited hair who has confronted me
remembers our meeting. Her eye moistens.

What am I? (Answer after the jump….) Read the rest of this entry »

Okay, I can’t. But I bet these guys can.

(Tried to imbed the video, but failed miserably, so you have to CLICK HERE.)

I love this stuff. Always wanted to build a huge one myself, but my knees could never take it.

Lisa

I found a piece by Steve Martin at the Smithsonian Magazine website today. Even though the title is Being Funny, it’s not really about being funny. It’s about professionalism, finding your voice, being true to yourself, hard work, and a myriad other things a writer needs to make part of his or her soul.

And about being funny.

Be sure to watch the video that’s linked at the top of the article (Martin’s breakthrough Tonight Show performance). Just be sure you don’t have a mouth full of coffee. I nearly sprayed my keyboard.

Lisa