Nobody Cares

Make your own name tag!

On Tuesday's episode of As the Writer Frets, we watched as Delia tried to figure out what the hell her last name should be. We even took A Poll. The result?

The overwhelming majority of my fellow procrastinators do not give a rat's ass.

Which, of course, means I've been fretting over absolutely nothing. Well, maybe not nothing. I'm sure if I ever manage to get myself into a publishing situation, the others involved will think it's quite something.

Also, there were many good folks who were kind enough to share their thoughts in the comments. The general lean seemed to be toward my maiden name, Mexican purse designer be damned. (Not really. She makes lovely purses.) While this has been my inclination all along, I think I let what all the "experts" had to say on the subject make me fickle. I needed that push from all of you to finalize it, so thanks for that. From here on out, you'll see a last name next to my first.

Hi. I'm Delia Moran, writer of speculative fiction. Welcome to my blog.

A Question for the Ages. Kind of.

I'm a writer, but I'm not yet a published author. As such, the question of pen names seems a touch on the premature side to me. Like I'm not just counting my chickens before they hatch, I'm also inscribing their painstakingly chosen names on the sides of their eggs in gilt. My inclination is to worry about the issue of my name if (when) someone decides they'd like to publish my work.

Except.

Here's the deal. I have a unique name. Not an unusual name, a unique name. As in, if you Googled my first and last names in combination, you'd come up with me and only me. Well, isn't that good? I hear someone say. Wouldn't that be great brand recognition? To which I say, hmmmm....could be.

But it also provides no anonymity. What I mean is, a Google search would lead a prospective reader to me and no one else (provided they spelled my name correctly, which is another problem entirely), but it also would list everything else connected to me and no one else. Like when my kids were in the paper for making the honor roll. Or when I wrote a letter of opposition that time they wanted to build a twenty-two house subdivision on the wetlands across the street. Or my dad's obituary (happy birthday, Dad). See the problem?

So then, I thought I'd just go with my maiden name. Because Lord knows, I'm vain enough that if this ever gets published, I want some form of my own damn name on it. Trouble is, publishers generally want their authors to have websites. You know, nameofauthorDotCom? However, mymaidennameDotCom happens to be taken by a Mexican purse designer. Turns out, if you stick an accent mark over one of the vowels, my Irish name turns Mexican. Who knew?

Now I feel like I'm stuck. Every agent/editor blog out there tells aspirants to this business to Work on Your Platform and Build Your Readership and Get Your Name Out There! But I can't. Because I have no name.

It's a quandary.

What's your opinion on the matter? If you're an author, have you chosen a pen name? If you're a reader, do they matter to you? There's a poll in the side bar for those of you who no likey the commenting. (Though, really, you shouldn't be shy. I'm not a meanie or anything. Promise.) Any prospective solutions would be greatly appreciated.

P.S. This is what the second day of spring looks like around here.

My Road

My Yard

Now, don't you feel better about wherever you live? You're Welcome.

Whatever works for ya.

Look, I know I'm something like the eleven millionth blogger to do this, but I'm going to do it anyway. Fair warning.

So, okay, we here in Blogspot land have a little tab called "Stats" we can click to see how well we're doing. You know, number wise. As part of this beautiful feature, the good folks at Google keep track of what search terms people have typed in to find our blogs.

Now, I don't normally get too many odd things. Folks search various combinations of procrastination and rehabilitation and wind up here. If I post a picture, I'll occasionally get a visitor searching for that picture. Nothing special.

Until.

Recently, I wrote a bleak and somber post regarding a pair of pretty shoes I'd ordered which did not fit properly. (I'm still all sad about that, by the way.) Anyway, that post has led to a few folks finding me. Was it the shoes, you ask? No. No, indeed.

It was the toe cleavage.

That's right. Since that post, several good people have found my blog by Googling the phrase "toe cleavage." Don't think about that for too long, you may develop the urgent need for a shower. And socks.

So tell me? Have you ever searched for toe cleavage conducted a search and wound up someplace you weren't expecting? Get your freak on Share your embarrassment here.

Funnies

Lists! I don't usually love them, but others around here do. So I thought what I'd do today is cater to the list crowd (Lora).



Today's topic: The top five comedies I watch over and over and over again. And then again. I'm a huge movie buff. Given the choice between a cheesy movie I've never seen and a television show I know I'll like, I'll almost always choose the movie. (The almost is for Project Runway because, Hells Yeah, Tim Gunn.)



For the record, when given the choice between those two things and a fresh new book, the book wins every time. Sorry, Tim.



Anyway, here are my go to, never fail to make me laugh comedies. (If you're paying attention, you'll probably learn a little something about me here.) They are, in no particular order:

• Hot Fuzz (2007)


• The Whole Nine Yards (2000)


• Real Genius (1985)


• The Princess Bride (1987)


• Big Trouble (2002)

For those of you feeling a little cheated because I left out descriptions (though, I generously provided links, what more do you want?), here's a little bonus. The theatrical trailer for Big Trouble, which is funny as hell and you should watch it immediately.

Now you know my favorites. Please share yours. I'm always looking for new stuff. (And if you've got any good books...)





While you're laughing, please don't forget those who aren't.

For your convenience:

Donate to the American Red Cross.

Donate to Shelterbox.

You Don't Need This Reminder, But...

I'm sure you've all heard about Japan and the earthquake and the tsunami by now. Here's your official reminder to go donate and help these people out.



Now, a donation to the American Red Cross never goes amiss. If, however, you are looking for something additional, or just different, consider going over to author Maureen Johnson's and following the directions to donate to Shelterbox. It's a fantastic organization and, bonus for you, Maureen is giving away prizes to people who donate. It started with her giving one of her books to a random donor, then a whole bunch of other authors of awesomeness threw their own books onto the prize pile.



So donate. And if you go Maureen Johnson's way, you may actually get rewarded for your good heartedness.

Real Posts are Overrated

Last night I attended my uncle's wake. He was my father's brother, one of ten siblings, most born in the 1920's. There's only one of them left, my Uncle Tom. He's eighty-seven, in the early stages of Alzheimer's, and, at several points in the evening, wasn't quite sure where he was or why he was there. It's depressing.



I've had enough depressing for a while. So, rather than regale you with stories of my childhood and family, I'm simply going to say, rest well, Uncle John. You'll be missed.



Then I'm going to give you this to watch because it's funny and I could use the funny. Enjoy. (Sorry about the video going out of the lines all higgledy-piggledy like that. It can't be helped.)







See you all Tuesday.

Da Vinci and Me

H. Jackson Brown, Jr., author of Life's Little Instruction Book, is quoted as saying, “Don't say you don't have enough time. You have exactly the same number of hours per day that were given to Helen Keller, Pasteur, Michelangelo, Mother Teresa, Leonardo da Vinci, Thomas Jefferson, and Albert Einstein.”



Do I need to point out that five of these seven people never married or had children? Thomas Jefferson and family lived here (and owned several hundred slaves, I might add). And Louis Pasteur, had this woman for a wife. Somehow I don't think Tom and Louie were the ones watching the kids.



All of which is to say, I can't seem to get anything done while the kids are awake. Which, in turn, means I'm staying up way too late to get my work done and I'm so exhausted I can barely keep my eyes open right now. And now I'm whining again, and I really don't want to be whining. Because if this is how I need to get the revision done, then this is how I get the revision done, right? Right.



Therefore! Rather than whine at you (Too late!), I'll give you this. The single best, and worst, thing I have ever, ever seen --

The Nutella Snack & Drink. Iced tea, crunchy little sticks, and Nutella to dip them. It is a blessing from above that this is not readily available in this country, because I'd eat the holy hell out of that thing.



Right. I'm going to go stare at the insides of my eyelids, now. I hope you're all getting better sleep than I am. (And I hope the alarm clock actually wakes me up instead of becoming some weird soundtrack to an even weirder dream. About Nutella.) 

The Dangers of Mail Order

Remember Tuesday when I said I was waiting for my new red shoes to come in the mail so I could dance around in them? They came that day. But they didn't fit right. There was major toe cleavage -- unattractive, to say the least. I am disappointment personified because, honey, these were some pretty shoes. See?

Softspots (R) Studio Pump

They're even prettier in person. And I didn't pay anywhere close to full price for them. It was serendipitous. Until the toe cleavage. (If you're looking at that picture and thinking, "How did she have toe cleavage in those?" Let me save you the suspense. I have huge feet.)



Can you tell my brain is mush yet? I'm blogging about ill-fitting shoes. This is sad.



In other news, my youngest is finally on the mend after over a month of illness. I cannot begin to express how wonderful this is. The poor kid hasn't been outside to play in ages. In fact, because he has been sick and his big brother was still recuperating from his sickness, none of my kids have left the house all week. It's vacation week. And no one has left the house.



I'll tell you what, it's getting on my nerves. So, if everyone is still operating at a normal temperature tomorrow, Magnum and I will be hauling them all to the movie theater to see Rango. This will basically force me to take a day away from edits, which I really don't have time to do right now, but it's worth it to break up the stir crazy running around this joint.



Wow. This is all sounding really whiny. And, you know what, I don't have cause to whine. (Except about the laundry, but that's perpetual. Curse you laundry!) I completed my manuscript this week and I'm rewarding myself with key lime truffles today. And to top it all off, everyone's healthy (kind of). Not a bad week at all.



How'd your week go? Accomplish anything? Let us know in the comments so we can attaboy/attagirl appropriately.

Of Deadlines and Resolutions

Hey. Remember back in January when I said this:



"So, first resolution: Finish the damned first draft The Novel by the end of February. Why? Because January promises to be an even weirder month than December and deadlines are only useful tools if they're realistic."



Remember? Well, as it turns out, that wasn't a realistic deadline either. Now, I could go on to list all the sicknesses and snow days and every other crappy thing that happened during January and February, but it wouldn't change this one, simple fact. On February 28th at 11:59 p.m. Eastern Standard Time, the first draft of my manuscript was still incomplete.



I'm not going to let it get me down, though. Do you know why? Because I am a positive person. I engage in positive thinking. And, uh, also because at 1:19 a.m. on March 1st, the first draft of my manuscript was freaking done! D.O.N.E. Baby!



That's right, the oft revised and rewritten first draft now has THE END typed at the very bottom. There is still much work to be done before it's presentable, but I FREAKING DID IT! And if the red shoes I ordered last week come today, I'm totally dancing around in them. Also, to celebrate, I ate a key lime truffle. Nectar of the gods. Seriously.



So, soon it will be beta reader time. Which means: Clever, Kris, I need your contact info. Email me at dmarcinuk (at) gmail (dot) com and we'll see about getting this party started.



Good night, all. (Or, y'know, good morning.) I'm off to wake Magnum and shout WooHoo! at him. Wooo Hoooo!