I’m always finding ways to circumvent actually working out, while trying to attain rock-hard abs like whoa. The only exercise I’ve ever enjoyed that still make my abs and thighs work like a mother is hula. Like “Pearly shell… on the ocean…” and shit. But even that’s too much work. So then I found this:

Daaaamn. I might have to borrow Doc Brown’s Delorean so I could get ahold of one of these beauties. A hui hou!

Here’s something that might be fun: For the next-next Serial I will write (the next one following Chasing Daisy is a fun Harlequin-type parody featuring 7 or 8 writers you might recognize… like, oh, Ann Aguirre, Kate Rothwell, and a couple of others if we can convince them to come play with us — the organizer of all this, of course, is the ever brilliant and wonderful Tumperkin and the irrepressible Lisabea) <--- (god that was a long parenthetical and my original train of thought has since been derailed) ermm... where was I? Oh, right. Since y'all are receiving Chasing Daisy quite well, I’d like to write another Serial — only I want you guys to help me with it. How, you ask?

Simple! I haven’t come up with an idea yet, so I would really appreciate some suggestions. If you have some, just go ahead and put it down in that there comment box. Oh, and if you want me to incorporate some bit of dialogue or line that you think would be awesome to read in a romance novel (no matter how ridiculous it is, I’ll make work it in somehow), stick it in the comment box too. I got this brilliant idea from Tumperkin, who with her last Harlequin-type pastiche, introduced us to this line, “To her consternation, Molly’s nipples hardened.” It still makes me giggle every time I see it.

Anywhoo, help a sister out. If the post above sounds like a rambling bit of nonsense, I’m going to have to blame the lack of caffeine and sleep. Love you all and kizzez.

…if that doesn’t prove there’s magic left in the world, I don’t know what would.

P.S. If that’s not enough awesome for you, here’s the gayest thing in the world… and I mean that in the most loving, awestruck, admiring way possible.

Hellooooooooo… writers and writerly-types! Want to guest-blog? Want me to feature your short story on The Serial? Come on, all the cool kids are doing it! If you’re interested, email me and I will hook you up. Do it. Be one of us, one of us, one of us!

Btw, Jamie Craig’s sinfully delicious Forsaken is wrapping up next week (thanks, thanks, thanks to Pepper and Vivien) with a very yummy, satisfying conclusion and I need someone to jump in when it ends… HEEEEEEEEELP ME…

There are two very interesting discussions about romance heroines on my two favorite blogs today. On Karen Scott’s:

One thing I’ve noticed is that whenever there’s a question of distance between the hero and heroine, it’s always the gal who has to give up her apartment, and her job. What annoys me is that it usually turns out that the heroine wasn’t happy being an accountant/lawyer/doctor in the first place, and was just waiting for the right man to come along to rescue her from the drudgery of putting bad guys in jail, being able to afford Manolo Blahniks and healing the sick.

And Dear Author’s:

[Kresley] Cole takes very traditional tropes [i.e., the damsel in distress] and reverses them completely. For example, Cole’s books are female-centric with the female myths playing larger roles. Instead of the brotherhood or the male cadre of warriors, you ave a group of sword wielding, smart mouthed, head chopping Valkryries that like sparkly things, nail polish and video games or devious witches that are so beautiful they have to spell themselves to protect others from their personal glory.

Me, I prefer heroines who are smart, experienced, and has been leading a pretty good life even before she meets the hero. Which is why I really enjoy the female heroines of the novels written by P.C. Cast. To me, they are truly about the celebration of all the great things about being a female— sisterhood, being able to sit around with your friends and bare your soul without fearing you will be judged or castigated, and having a support system made up of mothers, sisters, and friends, whether they’re teachers from Oklahoma or actual goddesses from Mount Olympus.

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