So I tried again the following day and (somewhat) successfully made two vlogs about RT. I included first hand experiences with some of my favorite authors and book bloggers. This is the stuff you won’t see anywhere else, people! Watch these videos…
I have to shout out to the best “reader” at the convention! Phuong is the biggest romance fan ever! I loved meeting you and had such a great time with you! xoxo
Kat A.K.A. The Book Tart and me!
Me, Kat, and Nicole Flockton
Lisa, me, Kat at the dance party. Sylvia Day and me!
Me with HP Mallory! Jeaniene Frost and me.
Me with the amazing Cherry Adair! Me on Paranormal night
Nicki at her signing My sweetly signed book from Nicki!
Quotable:
At RT, people were comparing “things” and I said, “Is this where we all whip out our dicks?” That’s how men do it after all.
Ahhh! The RT Convention is right around the corner!!!!!! I’m so excited! I get to meet a ton of my favorite authors and book bloggers! Some, I already consider friends and finally get to hug and squee with. One even wants to kiss me! (Phuong) I told her that she would be my first girl that I have ever kissed. I hope she makes it good. hehehe
The first day, I will start my morning off by picking up my dear friend Nicole Flockton from the airport! I’m sure we’ll make a huge scene when we finally meet face to face! Then, once we are checked in the hotel, I have 3 classes, followed by a gala (whatever the heck that is…?) and then the Disco party! I have a dress for that party and I can’t wait to show my lack of disco dance moves! Ha! Then, we’re off to the after party in a hotel room. This is by invitation only. I’m kind of thinking that my inappropriateness has entered me into the popular crowd. Apparently, it’s cool to not have a filter in the literature world. LOL
And that’s just the 1st day. Whew!
Day 2: 4 classes, indie-publisher expo, followed by the formal ball. Formal = dress. Blah! I wish sparkle jeans would count as formal. I’m such a casual person. LOL. But, I’ll dress up.
Day 3:I’ll attend 4 classes, pitch-a-palooza (where you pitch your book(s) to agents & editors in “speed dating” style), and the RT Book Reviews Awards ceremony! And finally, the paranormal party! Let’s just say, my outfit for this is rockin’! Can’t wait!
Day 4: HUGE book fair. Need I say more?! I get to meet hundreds of authors, get autographs, and pics with them. I’ll post them on my fb page and pretend I’m totally important. LOL
Somewhere in there we have a few cocktail hours. Between all the coffee and cocktails I’ll consume, I don’t know that I’ll need to eat. LOL. I have so much to pack, and still get for this, but I’m SO excited, I just can’t stand it.
People I can’t wait to meet:
Nicole Flockton – duh!
Kat Fish from http://www.thebooktart.com – a dear friend of mine!
Maya Banks – Um…need I say more?
Jules Bennett
Jaci Burton
Robyn Carr – YEAH!
Victoria Dahl
Lauren Dane
Sylvia Day – Do you think she’ll bring Gideon Cross with her? A girl can always hope.
Jennifer Estep
Jeanine Frost – BONES! AHHH!!!!! How I adore this author!
Heather Graham
Daisy Harris
Julie James – Who knew lawyers could be so sexy?!
Ruthie Knox – Love her.
HP Mallory – I have a mad crush on this chick. And her books. Ah-may-zing
Hanna Martine – Don’t forget our date for cocktails, my love!
Erin McCarthy
Jill Shalvis – The queen of contemporary romance with humor. Can’t wait to meet her!
Shannon Stacy – The Kowalski family. Sigh.
Shiloh Walker
Maisey Yates
And so many more…
I know I’ve missed some. It’s so hard to remember everyone. I am so excited to meet every single one of you!
Anyway, if you can’t feel my excitement jumping off your screen, you must be pretty close to dead. I can’t wait to write about all my experiences. I promise to give you intimate details about everyone I meet. I’ll even ask them what color their underwear is… Hmm. This gave me an idea! I’ll video meeting these peeps! Yeah! And I’ll ask them inappropriate questions. Oooh! I love this new evil plan! Stay tuned, my friends, this is about to get interesting.
P.S. Nicole, I snore, according to my hubby. Just sayin’.
This post will probably make people mad. In fact, I’m counting on that. It seems that’s what I do best lately. I’ve lost pretty much everyone in my life who’s not obligated to here anyway, so what else do I have to lose? At this point, nothing.
It all started several years ago. All the best stories do. There’s a back story, something critical to how everything plays out later. When you look back after it’s all said and done you’re like, “Holy crap! That’s all connected. It all started with that moment.” Hindsight is 20/20, they say.
I won’t go into great detail, that is unnecessary. Here is the back story: I used to be a youth leader in my church. I went through some things as a teenager that people should never go through. (Different story for a different time) I felt a calling to use this terrible experience to help young girls. I loved it. Those kids made me smile all of the time. I loved their playful bantering, their know-it-all attitudes, their awkwardness as they changed from child to young adult. They never failed to surprise me. They had so much love to give, but often times they didn’t know how to give it. However, there was a great disunity between the leaders. There were grudges, passive-aggressive behavior, and eventually, it wasn’t about God or the kids anymore. It became something else entirely. Power struggles, eggshells, lack of forgiveness. Finally, I felt like I had no choice, I left the ministry.
The looks of betrayal on my kids’ faces have haunted me since the day I left. I miss them terribly. I began to feel angry and that quickly turned to bitterness. I was angry with leaders. I was angry with the pastors for not interceding as I felt they should. I was angry with the church as a whole for their lack of concern or even attention in this ministry. Or any ministry for that matter. I was angry at myself for not trying harder. My attendance began to suffer as well as my attitude.
Bitterness is a funny thing. It’s similar to faith in that it only takes an amount the size of a mustard seed to take root. It’s this huge battle raging within you. What you’re supposed to think/feel/act and how you actually do. For a while my bitterness had a strong hold of me. I felt that my kids were ripped from me and though they weren’t my biological kids, I loved them so very much. I still do. That will never change. Ironic how you try to make a difference in their lives and they leave such a mark on yours. God is creative that way.
As I went through the motions in my spiritual life, I turned my focus to my other passions. Writing and music. I’ll never stop doing either of them. I was asked recently if I had to choose one, which one would I choose? I’ve sat on that question almost an entire month and I finally have my answer. I would sing publicly. And then I would write in secret. Perhaps under a different name. I don’t know. I could never choose just one. They’re both so much a part of who I am as a person. If you were to take either away, I wouldn’t feel like a whole person anymore. I guess that’s how I felt after losing my kids.
There are some who don’t agree with or like what I choose to write about. There are some who criticize what I read, the music I write and/or listen to. There are Facebook friends who feel my posts are not appropriate. My family has not been in church for a little over three months due to wrestling tournaments my son had. Some people think I am a bad parent, that I am not raising my children with the right priorities. Some people think that because my relationship with God has been strained, it means I have completely turned from Him. Some of these people took their concerns to the church. Everything has pretty much gone to shit since then.
Let me just say that I have never felt more judged and unwelcome in my entire life. This is the house of the Lord. I should never feel unwelcome there, but I do. Perhaps I was out of line a time or two. Perhaps I offended you. Perhaps my struggle with bitterness and forgiveness didn’t end on your acceptable time frame. Let me then say to you that I’m sorry and I’m sorry you feel that way. I am an imperfect sinner. You, my friend, are too. Hence our need for that Jesus guy.
I am now officially without a ministry. In order to play on the worship team, you must attend church – understandable. I haven’t been there lately. I emailed to say the wrestling season was over and I was available to be put back on the schedule. I wasn’t. So, instead of leaving things in awkward limbo, I sent an email and officially resigned from the ministry. I don’t need a stage or a microphone to sing to God.
In the span of a two-week period, I have lost a lot of friends – including my two best friends in the whole world, I’ve lost my church family and I’ve lost my band. I need to take responsibility for my part in this. I’m not completely a victim here. I had a crappy attitude. I was hurting. It’s not an excuse as some would accuse me of. It is just a fact. I was hurting and I let it affect every part of my life.
Forgiveness has not been extended to me. I don’t really expect it to. I’ve learned to alter my expectations. I’m trying – really trying to not let my hurt from everything turn into a severe case of bitterness. I’m working on the forgiveness thing too. I’ll need God’s power for that.
I don’t know what my future holds. I don’t know if we’ll be able to work everything out at church. There has been a lot of damage done by all parties involved. I don’t know where to go from here. I have to trust that God will guide me. I will say that I’ve learned so much. I’ve learned that I underestimated my family. I’ve never felt more loved by my mom, my sister and my husband than I do right now. I’ve learned that no matter how big of a mess I’m in, or how broken I am, they will engulf me with loving arms. No matter how mad they are at me, they’ll pick me up and dust me off. I’ve been an absolute basket case lately. They’ve been kind, understanding and absolutely non judgmental. For your patience, love and picking up the pieces, I thank you with my whole heart.
Another thing I’ve learned is that I really need to work on my reaction when feeling attacked. I suck at it. I think that stems from bad things in my past also. (Not an excuse, just something I’m trying to figure out) I’ve learned that a friend’s unconditional love usually comes with conditions. I’ve learned that if you let people in, they have the power to break your heart into a million pieces. I’m still undecided if I’ll ever really let new people in again. I tend to run from pain. It’s not my thing.
I’ve learned that I’m a mess. That I screwed up a lot of shit. I’ve learned that no matter how hard you wish, pray, and beg, you cannot turn the clock back. You can never undo or unsay things. I’ve learned that I’m still just as fooled by fake people as I was in elementary school. I’ve learned that letting go and moving on is possibly the hardest thing one can do in this life. I’ve learned that I’ve got a long way to go and I’ll probably die before I get there. And the people who really love me will be there in the end with me too. No matter what.
Quotable:
“Nobody’s perfect. Well, there was this one guy, but we killed him….”
― Christopher Moore
What’s up, my peeps? It’s been about a month since I’ve posted anything. Sorry about that! I’ve been insanely busy with the band. I’ll tell you all about it soon, but today is about someone else! My friend, Serena Clarke, has a new book out and she is visiting my blog today to tell us all about it!
Hi Serena! Thank you for visiting my blog!
Thanks Kristy! It’s so great to be here. I’ve been lucky enough to hear some of your music – you know I’m a fan!
*Blushing* Thank you! I’m a fan of yours as well!
First and foremost, congratulations on your new book, “All Over The Place”!
I have not had the pleasure of reading it yet, so please tell us what it is about.
The starting point for All Over the Place was something that happened on the Underground when I lived in London. It was late, there was a guy…and a misunderstanding! It wasn’t exactly the same as Livi’s encounter with her mysterious American, but it got me thinking about all the people you cross paths with during your day. One of those people might lead you in a new direction. But which direction – and which person – is the right one for you? Here’s the blurb:
Livi Callaway has fled back to London after a reality TV disaster in New Zealand. Safely anonymous in the big city, she’s determined to stay under the radar from now on. But her attempts to build a new life are complicated by unexpected visitors from her old one, and new dangers and temptations lie in wait.
Late one night, she meets a mysteriously sexy American on the Underground – and the events that follow take her from Pooh Bear to the golden lights of Paris, via a trail of rock stars dead and alive. A family in disarray, a determined Swede, a crazed Australian and a childhood friend (who might yet be more than that) have her all over the place as she tries to discover the American’s secret – while keeping her own.
With help – and occasional hindrance – from her friends, what she eventually finds is something unexpected…sometimes, running away can lead you to exactly what you didn’t know you needed.
Because I know you on a more personal level, I know you love music. Did/do you have a playlist for “All Over The Place”?
Mostly I don’t have music on while I’m actually writing. But while I was researching (that’s what writers get to call randomly messing around on the internet!) I listened to a lot from The Libertines and Babyshambles.
Pete Doherty is a model of chaotic, brilliant, disastrous genius – you’ll spot his influence in All Over the Place! (Tryhttp://frenchdogblues.com/ to see what I mean.)
All authors have been inspired by other authors. Who has inspired you?
Where to begin…Anne Tyler, Bill Bryson, Cathy Yardley, Alice Hoffman, Sarah-Kate Lynch. All the writers of funny, real, feisty, chick lit. Anyone who’s mastered the art of the happy ending. And now I’d add all the gorgeous writers I’ve met recently, who inspire me with their determination and their wonderful books!
You have prepared something for this blog post that blew me away when I read it. It is such an interesting view on this. Also I love it because it is about musicians.
27 = a dangerous number
You’ve probably heard of the 27 Club – that exclusive group of musicians who died at the age of 27, after a short life of wild excess. Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain and Amy Winehouse all joined the club, leaving their fans bereft and guaranteeing themselves a place in rock legend.
That rock ’n’ roll lifestyle, huh? You wouldn’t read about it! And if you did, you wouldn’t believe it. That’s the trick with fiction. People want a page-turner. But if you put in something really extraordinary, they say ‘pfft, that would never happen!’ Well, I’m here to tell you that it would! Here are just a few things I discovered while researching for All Over the Place:
Jim Morrison is in the club – he died when he was 27. Well, that’s what they WANT us to believe. Actually, he’s alive and living in the Seychelles. No, he’s really a cowboy in Oregon. And he also has a regular gig playing a small club in Anaheim. Seriously though, he’s in the Lone Star state: Stephen King reports picking up a hitchhiker in Texas he swears was Jim Morrison.
There’s no disagreement about the fact that Brian Jones from the Rolling Stones was 27 when he died. He drowned in the swimming pool at his English country house, the former home of Pooh Bear and the real Christopher Robin. Murder was suspected, but never proven. Later, the swimming pool was re-tiled. And in 2001 – not wanting to let an opportunity go to waste – the Brian Jones Fan Club offered the old tiles to souvenir hunters for £130 each, every one numbered, with a certificate of authenticity.
And don’t people love to blame their mothers for their problems? Try this one. Everyone knows the story of Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen. When she was found dead in their hotel bathroom with a single stab wound, Sid claimed to know nothing about it. He overdosed not long afterwards, having only made it to 21. It’s rumored that his mother confessed to giving him a lethal injection of heroin, so he wouldn’t have to face a jail term for Nancy’s murder. No one knows where his ashes are – some say his mother scattered them on Nancy’s grave in Philadelphia. But witnesses claim to have seen her accidentally spill them at London’s Heathrow airport, where they were blown around by the airport ventilation system. Thanks mum.
“There’s nothing glorious in dying,” wrote Johnny Rotten later, in his autobiography. “Anyone can do it.”
As I write this, the Brits – the British music awards – are on TV. I wonder what stories we’re yet to hear about today’s stars, up there collecting their statuettes. Some of them have made it to 28 and beyond already. Others are still waiting to discover what 27 holds. Whatever happens, you’re sure to read about it. As they say, truth is stranger than fiction…but turning it into fiction can be a lot of fun!
Wow! Thank you SO much for stopping by today, Serena! It’s been so much fun having you here! Best of luck with All Over The Place and your future books! I’m excited to see what the future holds for you!
Serena grew up in a family of itchy-footed readers and dreamers – not concentrating, reading the atlas and Narnia books, and planning to escape somewhere magical as soon as she could. When she was 16, she went from New Zealand to live in Sweden for a year. It was the beginning of many travels and adventures – and quite a few disasters! She didn’t know it at the time, but eventually she’d be grateful for all the downs as well as the ups. As writers say in the face of adversity: “I can use that.” She’s now living back in New Zealand, where she writes stories reflecting her determined belief in magic, possibility and second chances – and happy endings!
As you know by now, my filter is broken. Things just pop out and often times, I’m as surprised as those around me by what I’ve just said. This is never more true than when I’m at home and most relaxed.
One day, about a week or so ago, I was lounging on the couch, reading. My freshly showered hubby walked into the room. I glanced up and took in the delicious sight. His jeans fit him perfectly in all the right places, his black tee accentuated his broad chest and amazing arms, his 5:00 shadow that gave him a sexy, mysterious look… Yeah. The man is flippin hot. Anyway, I took it all in for a minute and then said, “You look like sex on a stick.” He laughed, but I was serious. I’m not entirely sure what “sex on a stick” is, but I imagine he has it in the bag. Hubby continued to laughed at me and walked away. Clearly he didn’t realize that he just walked away from a perfect opportunity, but that’s a whole other post…
Fast forward to a couple of days ago…
Hubby was talking to our oldest monster. Our oldest monster is 9 years old and he tends to have a sarcastic streak. I’m not entirely sure where it came from. *cough, cough*
Monster #1 has been participating in wrestling. Hubby was “passionately” explaining to monster #1 why he should practice harder and give it all he’s got.
Hubby said, “You need to work harder, Monster #1. You’re just lazy.”
Monster #1 looked at him with a straight face and said, “Yeah, well, you’re just sex on a stick.”
I burst out laughing and Hubby shot me a look that might have killed a lesser woman. I immediately tried to stop laughing, which only caused that unattractive snort noise that comes out when you’re laughing through your nose, which made me laugh harder. (Thankfully no snot came out with the snort… Ew)
Okay, so, I know. It wasn’t my finest parenting moment. But you’ve gotta give the kid some credit here. I didn’t even realize he’d heard the whole “sex on a stick” thing. I mean, he never listens normally. I thought it would be safe to assume he wasn’t listening then. I was wrong. But he didn’t say anything for like a whole week and a half! And then, at the perfect time, he pulls it out of his butt and I’ve gotta be honest. I was kind of proud of him. It was awesome!
There really is no point to this whole post, other than to share with you my brilliant kid who is now learning what is acceptable to say, yatta, yatta. Hubby will be conducting that lesson, because we all know I suck at it.
xoxo
~K-Wy
Quotable:
“If my husband died, I’d be fine. I mean, I’d miss him and everything, but I’d be completely okay.” Lauren (best friend, keyboardist & back-up vocalist from LEARN TO BEND)
What I’m Reading:
I’m re-reading books from my collection right now.
What I’m Listening To:
Marcus Foster. I looove him!
I promise to write a K-Wy post VERY soon! I have so much to tell you. But to hold you over, I have some ah-may-zing news to share!
My dear friend, Nicole Flockton’s 2nd book will be released FEBRUARY 1ST! And I have a peek at her new cover and a blurb that I couldn’t wait to share with you!
“Luciano Morelli has perfected a plan to get revenge on his runaway wife; confronting her at the opening gala for her father’s hotel. What he didn’t plan on was the flaring of emotions the moment he sees her again.
Jasmine Anderson has no memories of her husband. Her only link to him are the wedding rings she wears. Luciano storms back into her life announcing he is her husband, demanding she join him on a business trip or see her father’s livelihood crumble.
Passion reignites as they rediscover what first drew them together. But more than just memories are lost. Can their bond be rebuilt or will secrets infect their already shattered trust?”
Heeellllooo, my loves! Wow, it’s been a while! I’ve been crazy busy lately and not much of it was fun. We had the flu in our house for a couple of weeks, and then, of course we celebrated Christmas, and then the flu came back to visit. How kind of it to come back. Jerk. Anyway, I have something VERY important to write about today. So read on, my friend.
I don’t generally recommend frequenting meat markets. However, there are times when you will find yourself in one despite your best efforts to stay away. (If you don’t understand what I mean by “meat market”, I mean a bar or club where people’s main goals tend to be “hooking up with other people”, etc.) I recently found myself in one and learned a couple of things I thought I’d share with you.
My sister-in-law celebrated her 30th birthday recently. My mother-in-law decided that one of the ways we should celebrate is a girl’s night out and leave all the men at home with the kids. Sounded fun to me.
So we get ready. (I’m more of a casual person, so nice jeans, sparkly Toms, sweater and a scarf was what I wore.) And we head out. We end up at a dance club. Okay. I’ve done the dance club thing before – no biggie. But there’s a twist. No one in this place spoke English. This proved to be a bit of a problem for several reasons. First of all, the only bilingual person in our group was the birthday girl. We were completely reliant on her to translate for all of us. Secondly, the birthday girl was partying hard, so we were separated much of the night. Lastly, no one looks great acting out their words like a bad game of charades.
The guys at this club were ridiculously creepy. They all lined up shoulder to shoulder around the dance floor to watch the girls dancing. Because of this, I only danced to a couple of songs with my sisters before I finally sat down. There’s nothing like feeling a bunch of eyes raking over you as you shake your booty. and believe me, I’m bootylicious. The guys would come over to our table and ask us to dance. (I think that’s what they were saying anyway…) They would try to grab your hand to take you to the dance floor. With no translator, it became a difficult task to deter them.
I said, “No, I’m married.” and point to my ring on my hand. Then he would point to his ringless hand and shrug. After I’d finally get through to him that, NO, I was NOT going to dance with him, he’d go to the next lady sitting there. Even though she saw and heard him try to get me on the dance floor. He would go from one to the next, hoping for a “yes”. Charming. I was so out of my comfort zone, I may have used my drink as a coping mechanism.
The more I drank the more “charade-ish” I became in my constant “No!” answers. For instance, this guy asked my breasts to dance. I’m pretty sure he would have accepted all of me to go with him on the dance floor. but while he spoke, – whatever he was saying – he was staring at my breasts when he said it. So I replied, “I…” And I pointed to myself. “screw…” I took my hand and made a fist, and then a finger from my other hand and pushed it in and out of the “hole”, then I continued, “one – uno…” holding up the #1, “man, and it’s NOT” I then made the “no good” sign the refs make when the football extra point is no good, “YOU!” Then I pointed to him. I don’t think he got the message. He looked at me like I had two heads. So I drank some more.
Another guy came up and I was shocked at what I saw. Now let me try to paint this picture for you. I’m sitting at a table with my sisters and mother-in-law. This man comes up next to me. I turn and of course I pretty much eye level with his crotch. Normally, I would have immediately looked up to his face. But my eye caught a bright color before I could and thus I began to stare at this crotch in utter confusion. This dude wore his pants completely unbuttoned and unzipped. They were spread apart as though they were much too tight- although the pants were really very loose on him. His bright blue plaid boxers were poofing out in that area. The most baffling part is he had on a belt to keep his pants on. I wish I’d taken a picture to show you how absolutely stupid this looked. It was completely illogical. So, of course, me being me, I said something. Not. Smart. K-Wy.
He didn’t speak English. All he knew was I was staring and point at his crotch. He must not have seen my disgusted face, because he seemed a little excited by the attention. (And ew-NO. Not in the way you’re wondering) Finally my sister-in-law,the translator, got him away. Lesson learned: No matter how stupid their penis and penis area looks, NEVER, under any circumstances ask them about it! So I drank a little more.
After a few hours of the constant men asking to dance, you get a little irritated. At least, I did. So, I began to say one thing to every guy who came up to our table. “I have a penis!” And yes, I acted it out sometimes. Desperate times call for desperate measures. A couple of guys walked away. One, however decided he didn’t care. Wow. That’s not desperate at all. You have a hand, dude. Use it.
Overall, it was fun to hang with the girls. They guys, I could have done without. Moral of the story, NEVER talk about their pants or penis area. However, if you claim to have a penis, they’ll be more likely to leave you alone. So be like K-Wy, stand up and proudly proclaim, “I HAVE A PENIS!”
Quotable:
Conversation with my Mom via text:
“When are you going to tell them?” Mom
“I’ll tell them next year. I don’t want to deal with it today. Or tomorrow. Or next month…” Me
“Okay, I just don’t want to screw something up and say something I’m not supposed to.” Mom
“Fine. I’ll tell them tonight. Or tomorrow. Shit. I need to grow some balls.” Me
“Just for the record, I’m glad you don’t have any. I was tickled to have a daughter.” Mom
“I know. You much prefer the innies.” Me
What I’m Reading:
Jeaniene Frost. OMG! I looove her books! I discovered her on New Year’s Eve while I sat at home sick. I got the first book in the “Night Huntress Series”. It is now the 9th of Jan. and I am reading the 8th book of hers. Obsessed much? Obviously. But, what can I say, they’re amazing! If you like paranormal, you’ll love her!
What I’m Listening To:
P!nk. I’ve got MAD love for her. And, well, this is fitting. Enjoy. xoxo
