Strange
Today turned out weird. I’m not sure what to make of it.
“Farting my ABCs” was rejected (darn), but although it was clearly still a form letter, it was a friendlier form letter than the other one (so perhaps that publisher has a range of form letters – that’s a positive sign, while not actually being at all useful). Obviously this is bad news, but I actually find rejections always perk me up. I can edit (fun, especially after an eight-month break) and send it to someone new.
In the same lot of mail I received a kind of prize for “winning” the national Novel Writing Month (ie, I did successfully wrote 50,000 words in a month). Every winner who wanted to could get one properly-printed copy of their book from Create Space. So, although the editing is far from over, I have a shiny physical object with my name and photo on the cover, and my words filling the inside.
I also impulse-bought a fish toy – one of those logs with holes for the fish to swim through – and the fish to go with it. The previous plant died (apparently it’s the nature of that type of plant) so I bought another (allegedly hardier). The log is so my tetras have somewhere to hide if this plant dies, too. Right now they’re acclimatising to my tank – VERY slowly, so they don’t die of shock (I believe that’s what killed Sam and Frodo).
I’m delighted to have more than one fish once more, but also nervous. Since some difficult-to-grab remnants of the previous plant are still drifting about, and Gandalf (the fighting fish) still has odd colouring, I wonder if I’ve doomed five more lives. But all I can do is be super careful of the tetras and hope for the best (Gandalf is definitely stable, and moves around quite happily).
I’m also slightly faint with hunger. When I get tired enough, my vision tends to waver and/or cause brief hallucinations (mistaking a tree for an elephant, etc). Today I saw a sign that said, “We sell boxes” and read it as, “We sell blokes.” Hmm.
I also had a rather weird errand to run – but that’s all part of Secret # 6 and I can’t talk about it for at least twenty-four more hours.
Oh! And the http://twittertales.wordpress.com blog hit a new high in sheer numbers yesterday, and I think it’ll go even higher today.
#142: Reverse Burglary
Today’s awesomeness was sneaky. I broke into the home of a friend and, instead of stealing from them, I added two items to their home.
1) A large stick of hard candy that says, “Your souvenir of Blackpool”.
2) A jar of lollies with my victim’s name as the brand name.
But I hid them.
What is more, I fixed up the house before I left (not that I broke it, exactly), so there’s absolutely no sign of my passing (unless he/she looks in just the right place).
He/she is a person who reads my blog, so who is it?
My mum and dad?
My mum-in-law?
My partner (which would make breaking in somewhat easier)?
W?
Ben, the Master of Sarcasm (who suggested this)?
Ann?
My cousin Jolyon?
My artist friend whose name starts with E?
One of my students (four of them visit this blog, and their initials are LD, SK, CT and PJ)?
Steff Metal?
Each day I’ll give a clue, until YOU OUT THERE find the evidence of my crime and write a comment to say so. (Be advised that it’s possible I had an accomplice.)
Alternatively, you can all scour your entire house from top to bottom, find absolutely nothing, and write a comment to complain that I’ve made you paranoid. It’s all fun from where I’m standing. (Yes, I’m a terrible friend/tutor. I know.)
First clue: It’s not my cousin – he lives in America and I don’t know anyone who lives near him.
Play along at home: Sneak lollies into a friend’s home (if you’re like me, you have enough of a criminal mind to know where they keep their spare key/which window they leave open/their landlord’s trusting nature/which door doesn’t lock properly, etc – otherwise, pay them a visit and commit the crime when they’re out of the room).
Coming soon: Secret # 6 is progressing semi-smoothly. I plan to post the results on either Thursday (yes, tomorrow) or Sunday.
I’ll also (in the next little while) Make a collage, Edit a friend’s novel, and Try, try again.
Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may diet
The good news is that I found a BMI calculator that says I can be 78 kilos and still inside the healthy weight range. The bad news is that I gained two kilos in the last week. I’m eating well for most of this week, beginning yesterday (and I’ve lost .7 of a kilo already, so I’m feeling a little better than I did then).
Yesterday was a tough day because of work (plus of course the blind rage that accompanies a lack of chocolate), and tomorrow will be tough too (I’ll be seeing one student from 8-10pm). But today is good – only two hours, and I finish at 4:40, which means I have time to cook.
In less than a week, it will be three months since I last heard from the “Stormhunter” possible-publisher, so I’ll send them an email. I predict their reply will be, “We’re so sorry. We’ll get onto that as soon as possible. Feel free to send it to other publishers in the meantime.”
I was in contact with Marianne DePierres (a rather well-known young adult author who has read the first chapter) and she reassured me that “polite but persistent” was the right path.
One of the funny things about the Australian publishing industry is that everyone knows everyone else – which means “polite” is the rule, no matter what. Because you won’t ruin your chances with just one publisher, but with all of them.
But why not be polite anyway? The reason I’m not sending “Stormhunter” elsewhere is that that particular possible-publisher gives me REASONS when they reject my books. Generally that kind of information (from a professional) costs up to $700.
I do have another possible-publisher in mind, however.
#145: De-Motivational Posters
Ben sent me a huge list of suggestions, and this is just the beginning (Reverse Burglary and Secret # 6 are coming very soon). Feel free to post these anywhere you like, just link back here when you do.
Play along at home: Make your own de-motivational poster today!
S#81: Ice Cream Parlour
I have a confession to make: I don’t like ice cream. For me, it’s simply not unhealthy enough. There’s not enough sugar, colouring, flavouring and chocolate to make even high-quality ice cream cut it for me.
But I have solved that pressing concern. Some of you are familiar with Jigsaw, Goodberries or Cold Rock ice cream. It’s very easy to make your own version at home.
1. Buy an ice cream base (I like Cadbury choc chip ice cream).
2. Buy fillings – I bought a few:
3. Chop/mash/bash up your fillings and mix them with the ice cream (possibly adding topping, as I did). Refreeze if required (recommended).
4. Eat.
5. Have a lie down and/or a stomach pump.
I particularly like the combination of caramel (any kind) and rocky road chocolate with ice cream. Too many fillings can overwhelm the dish – but sometimes that’s the effect you’re aiming for.
Play along at home: Eat something delicious. Write in and tell me what it was.
Coming soon: Secret # 6
Edit a friend’s novel
De-Motivational posters (I’ve been working on them today)
Make a collage
Go crazy in a lolly shop (pretty soon, because I’m about to lose some weight)
Try, try again (again)
And a surprise or two
#82: Buy Boots
People who know me in the 3D sense will know that I bought my first pair of boots about five years ago now (and left them – frozen, defrosted, frozen again, and holed in numerous places – in China this January). Way back when I bought them, I’d been thinking about buying new boots for some weeks, and had decided on a light brown pair from a particular shop, that I knew cost my maximum of $100 (I was rather poorer then, and had never spent such a lofty sum on a single item of clothing before). There were only two tiny problems: 1. I had selected them based on the belief they were lined with warm fur (they weren’t). 2. The only pair left in the shop was two sizes too small for me.
I bought them anyway. At first I could only walk a few steps before the pain made me hobble. But in a mere two years they were no less comfortable than all my other shoes. By the four year mark, they were my most comfortable shoes. (Again, I sense some elusive life lesson here.)
As those boots grew increasingly obvious aeration holes, I knew the time had come to buy a new pair of boots to see me through Winter 2010 (here in the Southern hemisphere, I have less than a month remaining until Winter hits, and nothing but plastic sandals to wear to work). And then it happened: Rivers had a sale on women’s boots.
I hastened to the store with heart in throat and $28 in wallet (it was a rather impressive sale, to be sure). The saleswoman mercifully left me alone to sweat and strain my way into the various boot styles like a stingy wannabe Cinderella. To my great and lasting astonishment, I found a pair in the correct size.
Well, sort of.
The feet are certainly the correct size. The legs. . . well. . .
I’d hate to be indelicate, so let’s just say that I have more legs than, strictly speaking, is required. Not so much more in quantity, but in sheer chocolate-inspired quality. Or, to put it another way, my leg budget for this year is far greater than expected. Or should I say my legs are providing a valuable anti-starvation backup nutrient supply?
Anyway. . .
It is quite difficult to do up the zips on these boots (which, mercifully, go from my ankles up to as close as possible to my knees). So difficult, in fact, that after owning these boots for two days my left index finger (at the first join, where the zipper is dragged from) is red and sore, and my right index finger has a visible blister.
Here’s a picture of the marks on my legs after wearing the boots a few hours (note the puckering on the inside of my legs, where the zipper goes; the mark on my left leg, however, is from shark bite in the Canberra Centre fountain):
Never fear – it always takes a year or two for these things to get into their stride.
Play along at home: Buy boots (long ones if you’re a girl). They’re worth it. If you’re a beginner at the boot game, it’s probably best to be a little fussier on how well they fit.
Coming soon: Secret # 6, suggested privately by Ben, who told me this blog isn’t weird enough. “What the people want is weirdness,” he said. “Something really out there. Ooh, I have an idea. . .”
I will do my best to do it sometime this week.
#142: Make home-made lemonade (with SCIENCE)
Yes, yes, I know – Monday’s predictions of this week’s awesomeness were wildly innaccurate. Shut up.
Every time I see the brilliant yellow of supermarket lemons I think, “Mmm. . . lemonade. . .” Today, while doing the classic “just a little shop on my way home” thing, I saw lemons on special and grabbed two as I flew past (knocking down pensioners with my trolley and elbowing young mums out of my way as I raced for the checkout).
As I write, I’m sipping the sweet beverage itself. Mmm. . . lemonade.
In my (incredibly recent) experience, two small lemons + a bunch of water + three-quarters of a cup of sugar = two glasses lemonade.
But there’s more. My rather sarcastic friend Ben (yes, the one of “Frolic in a Fountain” fame) tasted my lemonade (many eons ago now) and said, “It’s too acidic.”
“Never fear!” I cried. “I’ll add more sugar at once!”
He shook his head slowly. “No. . . sugar is acidic too.”
“Don’t be a fool!” I expostulated (probably while gesticulating). “Are you trying to claim that sugar isn’t the solution to both this and every other problem of mankind?”
He ignored me and went to my fridge, muttering, “Alkaline! We need alkaline!”
I eyed the exits and calculated whether or not I could beat him outside if he grabbed a knife and attacked me.
Eventually, he grabbed. . . a pack of bicarb soda. He said, “This should work.”
With grave doubts about him and everything he and his science degree stood for, I added a small amount of bicarb to the mix, and tasted it.
That moment changed my life.
It was the best lemonade I’d ever tasted. Not only did the bicarb soda keep the wonderful taste intact while eliminating the mouth-puckering pain, it gave the drink a tiny hint of fizz that I love to this day. Thus, in today’s batch of lemonade I added half a teaspoon of bicarb.
Play along at home: This is easy, cheap, delicious, and protects you against scurvy. So get to it, you maggoty excuse for a landlubber’s dog!
Tomorrow: Something awesome. (Haven’t decided what yet. Plans are for sissies.)
Felicity Banks 