New tech

My computers are up again with the new network stuff. The entire thing was vastly complicated because of my insistence that nothing change from my end. So you can't just update me and give me some instructions. You've got to tweak everything. A real pain in the ass.

My apologies to my techs; Jon and Charles. Mostly Charles today, since he took the brunt of it. Darla was home sick so she couldn't take my emergency intercom calls. Okay, my frantic, I can't find my files calls.

I managed my six pages on Merry before Charles arrived and he and Jon started the process today. But there was no afternoon session on Anita, because of the surprisingly slow process, and my total freak about the tech. I'm better than I used to be about it, but . . . New tech, aaah!

I know it sounds silly, but I swear I can tell. It's like one of those science fiction movies where your best friend comes in the door and you begin to suspect that they are not who they were, but some alien substitution. Okay, a little melodramatic, but it's about where I am. I'll calm down eventually.

Charles will be back tomorrow, but it won't be any of my computers, yea! All the rest of the new stuff should be truly invisible to me. Here's hoping.

Weird, but nice

Odd day, but in a good way. I was at my desk by a quarter 'til eight this morning. By nine I had my Merry pages done. Jon and I took the dogs for their walk, then I came back from my second writing session. Not on Merry, but on anything I wanted to write.

I've just started in the last few days, giving myself permission to write on other things for a second go 'round. So far, what I've mostly worked on is Anita. Merry first thing in the morning, then a brief break, then Anita. Sometimes the break is lunch, but this morning I was back at my desk for the second session by ten. By noon I was done. As in; had done more than my minimum pages on Merry, and done with my min pages on Anita. I was also tired. The writing was over for the day, but it was like lunch time. Weird.

Even for me this was an insanely quick day. So what do you do when you've planned to work the entire day and you get done by noon? Beats the heck out of me. I'm a workaholic, I have no idea what to do with down time.

Charles was over helping put up the new network, and other computer things. So when I finished at noon, Jon was still very immersed in the computer stuff. He was more than willing to break for lunch with me, but Charles had to stay at the desk with the computer. Which meant they were far from done, and though Charles could handle it without him, I knew Jon was trying to learn how to do all the new stuff, and that would work better if he was on sight for it's installation. Jon would have gone to lunch and talked to me, visited. But he was in high guy-mode, all you women out there know what I mean. You can drag them away from the job, but sometimes you only get part of their attention. I can't bitch too much since I do the same thing about my own job sometimes. So what to do?

I called my friend, and fellow writer, Sharon Shinn. I wasn't sure she'd have time on such short notice, but her computer went in the shop this week, so I took a chance. She was free to come out and play. Yea!

So Sharon and I sat at a restaurant and ate and visited face to face. We've seen each other at writing get togethers, but I can't honestly remember how long it's been since we were able to catch lunch together. I know that Tippin's restaurants still existed because that's where we ate the last time. Since they went out of business some years ago, it's been awhile. But Sharon works as hard as I do, so our schedule is pretty full.

So a free afternoon that filled me with something close to panic, turned into a very pleasant visit with a good friend. Jon got to stay home and work on the computer stuff with Charles, and do that guy bonding over tech and mechanics. Sharon and I girl bonded, over food and conversation.

Jon and I also did some work on the comic. Made and took some phone calls from New York. A busy day that included some relaxing time, nice, weird, but nice.

Writers Digest

One of the most interesting things about life when something irretrievable happens is that the world does not stop. Everything else continues. One of the things to continue is the blog. So, here's an attempt to get back to normal. Whatever that means.

I am on the cover of WRITERS DIGEST magazine. I knew they had done the interview, but I didn't realize my picture was on the cover until Darla brought it to my attention on the web. The magazine is able to be ordered now, and those with a subscription have gotten their copies. It's the April issue, so it's either about to be on the shelves, or it currently is on the shelves.

When I was an aspiring writer in my teens, WRITERS DIGEST was one of the places that I learned how to be a professional writer. To be on the cover of the magazine now, would have blown my mind at the age of sixteen. It would have been inconceivable, to quote one of our favorite movies. But apparently, inconceivable really doesn't mean what I thought it meant, because there I am on the cover. Most of the time stuff like this puzzles me. I never quite know how to feel about it. This one I know how to feel. It's just plain nifty.

LKH Bit 02/25/08

In Memoriam and Thank You, Comic Release Dates, Blood Noir Banners, T-Shirt Sale, Granite City APA Plea for Help!



LKH Bits are sent out to those on the free announce list at Yahoo and posted on the blogs for convience. Also posted on the Bulletins at MySpace.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

IN MEMORIAM AND A THANK YOU

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On Tuesday, February 19, 2008, Lieutenant Robert J. Cooney, Commander of the Mobile Reserve Unit was off-duty when he fell off the roof of his home. He was taken to Barnes-Jewish Hospital where he was pronounced dead due to injuries suffered in the fall. Lieutenant Cooney was 43 years old and a 19 year veteran of the Department. He is survived by his wife, a 13 year old daughter and a 10 year old son. A trust fund has been set up for the family of Lt. Robert J. Cooney. Contributions can be mailed to:



Cooney Trust Fund
AG Edwards/Wachovia Corp.
10369 Clayton Rd.
St. Louis, MO 63131
or call Karen Webb at 314-991-7848



The family has requested that donations be made to the trust in lieu of flowers.



Rob was Darla's brother and Laurell's Police Expert for what was real for St. Louis. His help was instrumental in getting things right, especially in "Incubus Dreams". He will be missed.





I wanted to say thank you! Thank you to all my friends, both on line and off, who have sent condolences, flowers and donations to the trust fund for my niece and nephew. Your outpouring of sympathy has meant a lot to me and my family. Thank you Laurell and Jon, for all you did this week. Thank you for standing with me. Offering me a hand or a hug when I needed it most. Thank you Pili and Carri for dinner and your friendship. Thank you Bill and Jet for hand holding. Thank you to all the folks I knew so long ago who made time to come by and remind me of childhood stories.


A special thanks to the entire St. Louis Metropolitan Police Department and all the officers from all the departments everywhere who came out. Their unending and tireless acts during this difficult time made it more bearable. From turning out enmasse at the funeral home, sharing their memories of Rob with us, giving us moments to laugh at some antic they remembered, kind words that were meant with heart, sharing our tears, standing honor guard, to the less obvious things, like cleaning off the sidewalk before the family got there. We noticed those little things, as well as the larger ones. Our gratitude to you all!

When they say that an officer is a brother or sister in blue. They truly mean it and demonstrate it. So I offer this wish to them all on behalf of Rob and us all. May you have a long and safe career. May you have a long and glorious retirement. Don't forget to enjoy the moments of your life. Rob did. And we will remember not only him, but also you in our prayers. Thank you.




Some have asked about the coverage that was mentioned. You can find it at www.myfoxstl.com, enter Cooney in the search box. The first link has a text and the sidebar has video. Though it is still too difficult for me to watch.


Darla

P.S. For those who asked, no, BackStoppers will not be assisting my sister-in-law, niece and nephew as my brother did not die in the line of duty. But please do not let that stop you from supporting them. They are a wonderful organization that helps out families of those who help us all.









COMIC RELEASE DATES

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

GP 8 – February 6, 2008
GP 9 – March 5, 2008
GP 10 – April 2, 2008



BLOOD NOIR BANNERS

..:namespace prefix = v ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:vml" />
Copy and paste the code below in to your MySpace or website. Thanks!

http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8v...kJhbm5lci5qcGc=" target="_blank">..http://i186.photobucket.com/albums/x...NoirBanner.jpg" border="0" alt="Blood Noir Banner">





Copy and paste the code below in to your MySpace or website. Thanks!


http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8v...m9pckFuaS5naWY=" target="_blank">..http://i186.photobucket.com/albums/x...oodNoirAni.gif" border="0" alt="Blood Noir Animated Banner">








T-SHIRT SALE

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

http://www.laurellkhamilton.org/Merchandise/shirtsale.html


We are clearing out some of the t-shirts to make room for more! Also, with all that happened last week, I am behind on things. But will get orders out ASAP!





GRANITE CITY PLEA FOR HELP

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Animal Lovers
We are asking, rather begging, at this point for your help. Our shelter is financially in very critical shape and in grave danger of closing. Our small membership continues to raise funds through every means possible, but its not enough. We need more members, we need more volunteers, but most of all, we need donations.


Granite City Animal Shelter in Dire Need of Donations Those of you, who feel as we do when... you're handed a dog with a 50lb tow chain embedded in his neck for so long that when it was removed he can no longer hold his head up... when two cats are dropped off so infested with fleas that they have scratched their own eyes out... the Akita that was beaten with a 2x4 daily for discipline... Sweat Pea, a bait dog for dog fighting with such a grossly scarred face it was hard to look at... or a skeletal 75lb Great Dane unable to stand who was being starved to see how long it would take him to die!

These horror stories are the facts of daily shelter cases! Where as other shelters may have deemed them lost causes, we are happy to report ALL of these animals were given medical care and love are now living happily in their own homes!

Our shelter successfully adopted out over 600 healthy, happy dogs and cats last year and we hope to always be able to continue our good work. This task becomes more and more overwhelming as the stray, ill and unwanted animal population continues to grow as our economy becomes more pinched.

As much of the public is unaware, being a "NO KILL" shelter restricts our shelter to private donations for all the operating costs to maintain our facility. Because we chose to heal, reform and love our critters rather than euthanize them, we are unable and do not qualify for city, state or government funding.

Daily operations require heat, electricity, water, telephones, enormous amounts of foods, cleaning products, office supplies but foremost preventative medicines, operations (such as spays and neuters) and vet bills to rehabilitate and cure those animals that have come to us in the worst possible shape.

For these "rejected, unhealthy and unloved animals" we ask for your pennies, dimes and dollars. We are a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization. Though every puppy lick and kitty purr is worth a million to us! Please consider ANY donation a step toward our future and continued success. HELP! HELP! HELP! AND MUCH THANKS!
Click Here to Become a Guardian Angel
Granite City Newspaper Article Excerpt - No kill shelter may be headed for the doghouse By Marissa Vickers
Wednesday, February 6, 2008 8:20 AM CST

The Granite City Association for the Protection of Animals, a no-kill shelter, is in desperate need of donations if the facility is to remain open.

Several renovations have taken or are taking place at the shelter thanks to contributions, however, those monies are specific to the remodeling and refurbishing, and it's the operating costs that are draining the resources.

"Our operating funds were down all of last year, like, ridiculously down," said Lisa Confer, vice president of the APA. "We're not getting the donations. "We don't want to lose it. We're trying to do anything we can. We just need more support from the community and I know a lot of people don't know about us."

Part of the problem with not having enough money is due to the fact that the APA is a no-kill shelter. Because of this reason, the shelter is ineligible for state or federal funding.

"That's the problem -- if we would promise to euthanize them we'd have to agree to keep them for X amount of days and then put them down, and we refuse to do that," said Nancy Hall, president of the APA.

"We get no state or federal (funding) because we're no-kill -- not one dime. We refuse to become a kill shelter just to get state and federal funding."

Hall said the only time the APA will put an animal to sleep is if it is too vicious, therefore, unable to be put up for adoption, or if the animal is sick and nothing can be done to help it.

At any one time there are approximately 75 pets waiting for adoption. Some have been there for months, other for years.

Hall said the monthly operating costs are quite high, as they do have paid employees.

"At a bare minimum our operating expenses are very large. I'm venturing to say between $18,000 and $20,000 a month -- that's for vet bills, utilities, heat, telephones, water, medications, food -- just the everyday things you have to have," Hall said.

She also explained that to wash the bedding for the pets is practically a fulltime job in itself. The APA has an industrial sized washer and dryer that Hall said are both going non-stop.

Hall admitted she is surprised by the fact that most of the facility's donations don't even come from the APAs hometown of Granite City.

"They come from Missouri," she said. "Maybe the people in Granite, or this area, don't realize how much we rely on the donations. (But) I realize times are hard for everybody."

"We probably have enough for three months, but then after that, everything would be gone, we'd have nothing to fall back on. If we could get most of the operating expenses from donations then we wouldn't have to take as much" from the emergency funds, Hall said.

"I'm absolutely fearful we're going to shut down. If we can't meet our operating expenses we're going to shut down."

According to their Web site, www.gcapa.org, $5 will feed a cat for a month, $10 will feed a dog, $15 will provide rabies shot for one animal, $500 will pay for a major surgery for one animal, and several other services at varying dollar amounts are listed in between.

Moreover, volunteers are needed as well.

To donate time or some much-needed money, please log onto their website, www.gcapa.org, or mail donations to Granite City APA, P.O. Box 1311, Granite City, IL 62040. The phone number is (618) 931-7030

The shelter is located at 5000 Old Alton Road down the street from the Knights of Columbus Hall.
Please Donate Now



That's it for this bit!


Darla

Saying good-bye

Darla has said the thank you's, I will try to talk about saying good-bye.

The St. Louis Metropolitan Police Department did Rob proud. I knew that police look at funerals differently, but I didn't really understand what that meant. Now, I do. I have, unfortunately, been to more than my share of funerals, and they are sad and bitter things. What Jon and I went to this last week was a celebration of Rob's life. His brothers spoke of his life, and what they'd learned from him being their big brother. Fellow police spoke, and made us laugh and remember who Rob was and what he stood for.

Was it sad? Yes. Damn bag pipes. I might have held out, except for those.

But this isn't about the sad, this is about the amazing. We had a sea of uniforms at the church. I have never seen so many police vehicles as I saw that day. It wasn't just the metro either, but every flavor of police that you can imagine was there, or had talked to Darla and her family in the last few days. It's been amazing. Darla said it, in her post, brothers and sisters in blue. I'd heard the phrase, but I didn't understand what it meant, now I do. Or I do, as much as someone can who has never worn a uniform. I was very aware of the fact that no matter how much research I do, I won't get all of it. I just won't.

It wasn't just the police officers that showed their respects. The fire department had two ladder trucks with a huge American flag hanging from them. The flag spanned the road where the procession had to drive, so that we all drove under it. How cool was that?

The head of the procession was all police cars, and the shiny black S. W. A. T. van. When I first met Rob and was doing research for INCUBUS DREAMS, there was no sexy black van. The van was what I described, crowded, and more utility vehicle than armored car. That van was something that Rob got for his guys. He was always trying to get them better equipment, better training, better everything.

Jon and I followed Darla and Jack in the procession, or as close as we could come. Police were there to direct us, as cars had been along the way to the church like lit up bread crumbs to make sure none of us got lost. It's what the police do every day, they keep the rest of us from getting lost.

There were police cars at every intersection so that the procession wouldn't have to fight traffic. They closed down 55 south, completely from Broadway to Reavis Barracks. The last person that the high way was shut down for was, I believe, the president. When I say this day was amazing, I mean it.

There were moments on the high way when the road stretched out in such a way that Jon and I could see the head of the procession and all those flashing lights, and behind us, to see more flashing lights that were bringing up the rear. It was miles of cars, not just police, but family, and friends. The only reason you didn't see it all on the news was that the weather was too bad for the choppers to get airborne.

There were police at every on-ramp keeping back traffic. Some saluted, and I had to fight not to salute back. I have not earned that right, not in anyway, but I saw it, and it meant a great deal.

The graveside is always tough. There were so many people, that only a small fraction could fit under the cover with the family. We stood back, letting the relatives be there. We waited in the cold, with the snow beginning to fall again. We were too far away to hear most of the words of the priest. I was too short to see. Art let us know when the flag was folded and given to Rob's wife. But something's we could hear, just fine. There were more bagpipes, and drums. There was a gun salute, and staring straight at the riflemen, I still jumped with the first shot. I always do. The police dogs did not like the guns going off, either. I don't know why the fact that they barked stands out in my mind, but it does.

Darla and her family came away, and we gave the comfort we could. Then it was time for the wake. I'd never been to a wake before. Carri had to go to work, so we took Pili in our car to meet Darla and Jack at the policemen's hall. Again, it was crowded, and full of people with stories about Rob. Not just police, but friends that they grew up with as kids. So, the stories ranged from Rob literally saving someone's life (there were a lot of those), to trouble all the Cooney children got into as kids. I think I now know more stories about Darla's family than my own. Or maybe they're just more fun.

At the end of the day, when talking to the family, the word, amazing kept coming up. What an amazing day it was. That is not a word you get to hear at the end of a day from most good-byes. But Rob was an amazing man, and did more in his life than most of us even knew.

I've skipped a lot here about talking to the family individually, because that just doesn't seem mine to share. But it seemed right, and I've got permission from more than just Darla, to let you guys know how incredible it all was.

Thank you again.

Thank you all for your words of kindness. So many people linked simply by computer. So many I have never met. Yet you share my grief and your prayers and thoughts mean the world to me and my family. Words are not adequate to say what I feel, thank you. Thank you so very much.

Some have asked about the coverage that was mentioned. You can find it at www.myfoxstl.com, enter Cooney in the search box. The first link has a text and the sidebar has video. Though it is still too difficult for me to watch.

Darla

Thank you.

I wanted to say thank you! Thank you to all my friends, both on line and off, who have sent condolences, flowers and donations to the trust fund for my niece and nephew. Your outpouring of sympathy has meant a lot to me and my family. Thank you Laurell and Jon, for all you did this week. Thank you for standing with me. Offering me a hand or a hug when I needed it most. Thank you Pili and Carri for dinner and your friendship. Thank you Bill and Jet for hand holding. Thank you to all the folks I knew so long ago who made time to come by and remind me of childhood stories. Some of which I would like to forget!


A special thanks to the entire St. Louis Metropolitan Police Department and all the officers from all the departments everywhere who came out. Their unending and tireless acts during this difficult time made it more bearable. From turning out enmasse at the funeral home, sharing their memories of Rob with us, giving us moments to laugh at some antic they remembered, kind words that were meant with heart, sharing our tears, standing honor guard, to the less obvious things, like cleaning off the sidewalk before the family got there. We noticed those little things, as well as the larger ones. Our gratitude to you all!

When they say that an officer is a brother or sister in blue. They truly mean it and demonstrate it. So I offer this wish to them all on behalf of Rob and us all. May you have a long and safe career. May you have a long and glorious retirement. Don't forget to enjoy the moments of your life. Rob did. And we will remember not only him, but also you in our prayers. Thank you.

Darla

Lt. Robert Cooney 1964-2008

On Tuesday, February 19, 2008, Lieutenant Robert J. Cooney, Commander of the Mobile Reserve Unit was off-duty when he fell off the roof of his home. He was taken to Barnes-Jewish Hospital where he was pronounced dead due to injuries suffered in the fall. Lieutenant Cooney was 43 years old and a 19 year veteran of the Department. He is survived by his wife, a 13 year old daughter and a 10 year old son. A trust fund has been set up for the family of Lt. Robert J. Cooney. Contributions can be mailed to:

Cooney Trust Fund
AG Edwards/Wachovia Corp.
10369 Clayton Rd.
St. Louis, MO 63131
or call Karen Webb at 314-991-7848

The family has requested that donations be made to the trust in lieu of flowers.

Rob was Laurell’s Police Expert for what was real for St. Louis. His help was instrumental in getting things right, especially in "Incubus Dreams". He will be missed.

Sad news

I've thought for two days about what to put in this blog. I finally realized that sometimes it's not about inspriation, just facts.

Darla's brother, Rob, died yesterday.

He leaves behind a wife and two children.

Tomorrow Jon will help me put up some links with more information. For tonight, just a note to let you guys know why you haven't heard anything here for a day or so. This is one of those moments when words don't seem enough.

Happy Presidents' Day, and a little guilt

It's taken me all day to get four pages. I listened to HAIRSPRAY, then switched to 1776. When I've had to try two different musicals it's been a hard day. My muse and I are tired for some reason.

It's also Presidents' Day, which is a combination holiday celebrating Lincoln and Washington's birthdays. It meant that Trinity was off school, and though I had help to take her to a movie, and other things, no one could help with the guilt. I'd hoped to finish my pages in the morning and then Jon and I could have taken her to the movie ourselves, but the morning was totally unproductive. Totally.

My job is so hard to plan around. Some glorious days I get my pages done in two hours or less. Some days it takes six to eight hours to get the same number of pages. How do I plan around something that can vary that much?

Answer, you don't, you can't. Most parents didn't even have the option to take part of the day off and do something with the kids. So, really, there's nothing different between me and hundreds of other working parents except that Trinity sees me popping into the kitchen, and having to do comic stuff on the computer, and . . . it's just harder to explain that really you are working when you're working out of your home. But I am, and I was, and when this blog is done, I'm done for the day. And I'm ready to be done for the day. God, this was a slog of a day, like walking through thigh deep mud, but I did it. I have my pages, I have my progress, now I am out of here.

Granite City APA Plea For Help!

One of our favorite animal charities sent this along. This is one of those times when even a $1 will make a difference. So if you can, please help!

Dear Animal Lovers

We are asking, rather begging, at this point for your help. Our shelter is financially in very critical shape and in grave danger of closing. Our small membership continues to raise funds through every means possible, but its not enough. We need more members, we need more volunteers, but most of all, we need donations.




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Granite City Animal Shelter in Dire Need of Donations
Those of you, who feel as we do when... you're handed a dog with a 50lb tow chain embedded in his neck for so long that when it was removed he can no longer hold his head up... when two cats are dropped off so infested with fleas that they have scratched their own eyes out... the Akita that was beaten with a 2x4 daily for discipline... Sweat Pea, a bait dog for dog fighting with such a grossly scarred face it was hard to look at... or a skeletal 75lb Great Dane unable to stand who was being starved to see how long it would take him to die!

These horror stories are the facts of daily shelter cases! Where as other shelters may have deemed them lost causes, we are happy to report ALL of these animals were given medical care and love are now living happily in their own homes!

Our shelter successfully adopted out over 600 healthy, happy dogs and cats last year and we hope to always be able to continue our good work. This task becomes more and more overwhelming as the stray, ill and unwanted animal population continues to grow as our economy becomes more pinched.

As much of the public is unaware, being a "NO KILL" shelter restricts our shelter to private donations for all the operating costs to maintain our facility. Because we chose to heal, reform and love our critters rather than euthanize them, we are unable and do not qualify for city, state or government funding.

Daily operations require heat, electricity, water, telephones, enormous amounts of foods, cleaning products, office supplies but foremost preventative medicines, operations (such as spays and neuters) and vet bills to rehabilitate and cure those animals that have come to us in the worst possible shape.

For these "rejected, unhealthy and unloved animals" we ask for your pennies, dimes and dollars. We are a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization. Though every puppy lick and kitty purr is worth a million to us! Please consider ANY donation a step toward our future and continued success. HELP! HELP! HELP! AND MUCH THANKS!

Click Here to Become a Guardian Angel


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Granite City Newspaper Article Excerpt - No kill shelter may be headed for the doghouse
By Marissa Vickers
Wednesday, February 6, 2008 8:20 AM CST

The Granite City Association for the Protection of Animals, a no-kill shelter, is in desperate need of donations if the facility is to remain open.

Several renovations have taken or are taking place at the shelter thanks to contributions, however, those monies are specific to the remodeling and refurbishing, and it's the operating costs that are draining the resources.

"Our operating funds were down all of last year, like, ridiculously down," said Lisa Confer, vice president of the APA. "We're not getting the donations. "We don't want to lose it. We're trying to do anything we can. We just need more support from the community and I know a lot of people don't know about us."

Part of the problem with not having enough money is due to the fact that the APA is a no-kill shelter. Because of this reason, the shelter is ineligible for state or federal funding.

"That's the problem -- if we would promise to euthanize them we'd have to agree to keep them for X amount of days and then put them down, and we refuse to do that," said Nancy Hall, president of the APA.

"We get no state or federal (funding) because we're no-kill -- not one dime. We refuse to become a kill shelter just to get state and federal funding."

Hall said the only time the APA will put an animal to sleep is if it is too vicious, therefore, unable to be put up for adoption, or if the animal is sick and nothing can be done to help it.

At any one time there are approximately 75 pets waiting for adoption. Some have been there for months, other for years.

Hall said the monthly operating costs are quite high, as they do have paid employees.

"At a bare minimum our operating expenses are very large. I'm venturing to say between $18,000 and $20,000 a month -- that's for vet bills, utilities, heat, telephones, water, medications, food -- just the everyday things you have to have," Hall said.

She also explained that to wash the bedding for the pets is practically a fulltime job in itself. The APA has an industrial sized washer and dryer that Hall said are both going non-stop.

Hall admitted she is surprised by the fact that most of the facility's donations don't even come from the APAs hometown of Granite City.

"They come from Missouri," she said. "Maybe the people in Granite, or this area, don't realize how much we rely on the donations. (But) I realize times are hard for everybody."

"We probably have enough for three months, but then after that, everything would be gone, we'd have nothing to fall back on. If we could get most of the operating expenses from donations then we wouldn't have to take as much" from the emergency funds, Hall said.

"I'm absolutely fearful we're going to shut down. If we can't meet our operating expenses we're going to shut down."

According to their Web site, www.gcapa.org, $5 will feed a cat for a month, $10 will feed a dog, $15 will provide rabies shot for one animal, $500 will pay for a major surgery for one animal, and several other services at varying dollar amounts are listed in between.

Moreover, volunteers are needed as well.

To donate time or some much-needed money, please log onto their website, www.gcapa.org, or mail donations to Granite City APA, P.O. Box 1311, Granite City, IL 62040. The phone number is (618) 931-7030

The shelter is located at 5000 Old Alton Road down the street from the Knights of Columbus Hall.

Please Donate Now




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You may donate on-line at www.gcapa.org or by mail at:

Association for the Protection of Animals
P.O. Box 1311
Granite City, IL. 62040

Darla

Casual sex?

I'm over a hundred and fifty pages into Merry #7. Yea!

There's something about hitting 150 that makes the book seem like it's really going to be a book. I've done books where a hundred pages in, and I realized it wasn't soup yet, not done enough to write. But 150, means it's a book, it's a story, and it's moving.

I've been listening to the musical HAIRSPRAY for the last few days. It has my new favorite love song on it. (You're) Timeless to Me is a song about real love. The kind of love that lasts through the years. Most love songs are about the beginning part. They're about lust, infatuation, and the first getting to know you part of love. That's my least favorite part of love, and certainly I hated first dates. I was never one of those people who found the first conversations, the first moments the most exciting. I've always been more into relationships once I really know a person. I guess that's why a lot of my friends are ten years or even twenty and counting. Jon and I are about the celebrate eight years as a couple, seven married. It just gets better.


I've had men tell me there's no way to date me and be casual. I have to make it so important that the friendship is on the line if it goes south. Well, yeah?

Why would I want to be with someone if I didn't feel they were my friend first? The fact that I don't understand casual dating, and feel that sex is very emotional and a commitment of sorts, is probably why Merry and Anita have collected so many men. If I could understand casual sex then they could, too. But I don't, understand it. I was raised that my body was important, and a gift to be shared. Your body and your mind are who you are. So, why would you share your body with someone who doesn't want your mind, too? If you can't talk to someone, and enjoy each other's company, then why have sex? Good sex, no, great sex, is about communication and being able to ask for what you want in bed, and have your partner be able to ask the same.

Great sex is often messy, awkward, and would not film well. It's about being comfortable enough to try a position that may not work at all, but you've got to have a level of comfort and trust to risk looking silly in bed. The best love making often ends in shared laughter. Can you share laughter with a stranger? Can you be yourself with someone you don't know? The answer for me has always been, no. But then, as more than one man over the years has said, "You're serious as a heart attack about everything."

Damn straight.

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One day until Valentine's Day

Not a sentence to my name today. Couldn't settle my thoughts enough, and this afternoon I'm taking Jon to part of his Valentine's Day present; a spa day. Part of the present is that I go with him. In our typical fashion as a couple Jon loves being pampered, and I hate it. The ladies at the spa tell us that it's usually the oppisate. Go fig.

So, I'm all dressed up in a skirt, even, boots, the whole nine yards. I'm off to play wife and girl. The wife I can do, but sometimes I'm not so comfy with the girl part. But tomorrow is V-Day, and for all those other spouses out there, I sympathize with that sometimes frantic rush to get the right gift, the right event, the right mood, so your sweetie ends the day happy.

Why am I the one planning the day? Jon and I have a deal. I do Valentine's Day, and he does my birthday, because they are only days a part. I made my first husband do both. Honestly I didn't understand how taxing it is for a guy to come up with two big events within days of each other. I realize now that if my ex hit Valentine's day well, he was doomed for my birthday, because he seldom came up with two gifts, two events, two whatevers that were equally nifty. He must have struggled for years, with me oblivious. When Jon and I got together I suggested the deal. So, I do V-Day, and he does B-day.

I think what made it ocurr to me was that when Jon and I were dating, I did events for him. Like take him a picnic lunch to his office when he had to pull an all-nighter. I sent him flowers at work, poetry. He loved it, but it put me in the position that is more typically male. It let me know just how hard you men have been working over the years to make the women in your lives happy.

I tried some of this with my first husband, but it wasn't his cup of tea. It made him uncomfortable. Jon took all the attention I could lavish on him. I liked that.

Early to the desk, gets the page count done

At the desk by 7:17 this morning. Why so early?

We have allergy shots, and we've missed the last two weeks. One because we were out of town, and the second because I was trying to make pages. So, in the interest of health, I got up way early and dragged my butt to the desk.

I've got my pages for the day. It's my minimum, but it's still pages, and progress. So, there you go. I'll finish this up and we'll be off for shots. Though, there does seem something vaguely wrong with working so hard to go do something so unfun. But though I hate the shots, I love the results.

But getting to the desk when it was still mostly dark has inspired me to find you guys some quotes from other writers who think early to the desk is a good idea.

"It is by sitting down to write every morning that one becomes a writer. Those who do not do this remain amateurs."

Gerald Brenan


"Get up early and get going at once, in fact, work first and wash afterwards."

W. H. Auden


"The best regimen is to get up early, insult yourself a bit in the shaving mirror, and then pretend you're cutting wood."

Lawrence Durrell


Do bear in mind that every writer is different. Some do honestly work better at night. I worked at night when Trinity was a baby, because the whole household was finally asleep. As she grew older, and I changed households (okay, changed husbands, so the routine changed), I began to work to suit school hours, so I'd be done when she got home from school. Which means you work like a son of a bitch when the kids are in school, because once they hit the door you are cooked. Unless you stay up late, after the tykes are in bed. Sleep deprivation is a real constant for most writers with kids. Okay, most women writers. There are more and more men that take over the child care, but it's still mainly a woman's role. Where is that equality when we need it? My morning session was only made possible by the fact that Jon made sure Trinity got breakfast, and all that ready for school stuff. If I hadn't had help, then I'd have got to the desk at least an hour later.

When I was working full time in corporate America, I rose at 5 A. M., wrote for an hour, then got ready for work. I am not a morning person, but it was the only time I would do it reliably. After eight hours, or more, at the desk job, I was too fried to write in the evening. Find what works for you.

Orchid Show 2008

We went to the Orchid Show at the Missouri Botanical Gardens today. Jon, Trinity, Grandma, Grandpa,(also known as Jon's parents), and me. It's always amazing to see the orchids. They are so beautiful. Some are even scented, which is something I wouldn't have known a few years back.

We have a solarium at the house. It would be a greenhouse, but I wanted it more for the comfort and enjoyment of the people rather than the plants, so it's a solarium. Less glass, more wood, less heat and humidity. So, not everything will grow there, but orchids will, or at least the right kind of orchids will.

The ones that do the best for us are the Phalaenopsis, moth orchids. They are some of the easiest to grow for beginers. The hardest for us have been the Paphiopedilum, lady slipper orchids. They have all died on us no matter where we put them. So no more of them, though I love them. I actually averted my eyes at the show today, so I wouldn't be tempted. They are too lovely to bring home knowing they are going to eventually die, and never re-bloom. Jon bought a Cymbidium last year at the show, just to see how it would do. It did well, and has re-bloomed for us. So we got two more today. We also got some more Phalaenopsis, since they seem to really like the solarium and the kitchen windowsill.

We have one area of the solarium that is too hot and sunny for any of the other orchids, so we bought one Laeliocattleya, to see if it will grow there. If it does well, we'll get more. If it doesn't do well, we won't. It's a lovely orange one called, Trick or Treat. I couldn't resist it.

One of the Cymbidium smells like chocolate, though Trinity thought it smelled more like vanilla. There was a small orchid that I cannot remember what it was, but it smelled like grape Kool-Aid. I regret passing it up now. But I was trying to be good, and it was a kind that I don't believe we've tried to grow before. Only one new variety a year, otherwise you get overwhelmed, or have a high plant death count. The Laeliocattleya was our new try for the year. We'll see how it goes.

Oh, and just in case you're wondering, I got up early and did my pages on the Merry book.

Over a hundred pages, yea!

I've cracked the hundred page mark on SWALLOWING DARKNESS. There is something about being in the hundreds, even by a little, that gives one confidence, or it gives me confidence. Somehow, until I see triple digits in the corner of the page, the book has barely begun. But to be over a hundred pages into a book, that's a substantial mark. The next mark is 150 pages, then 200, then 250, then 300, well, you get the idea. Though, strangely, page 50 on it's own, doesn't move me much. It's not enough. I need that one in front of it for fifty to make me happy.

I've been writing my morning pages like I used to jog. I'd promise myself just get to that mailbox, then I'd rest. I wouldn't really rest, because then I'd pick another land mark out. Just run to that stop sign. To that corner. That tree. In pieces, sort of lying to myself, I'd do my four miles. By that last mile I'd have my runner's high, and I wouldn't need to carrot and stick myself, it felt great, but it took me three miles to get to that last mile and feel good. I realized recently that I write like I jog.

The beginning is rarely pleasant. You don't want to do it. It seems hard. But you begin, putting one foot in front of the other; one word in front of another. In writing I promise myself, just ten lines, then I can get up and get tea, or change music. Then just a page, I know when I've got twenty lines on a page I'm close to the end of that page, so I can almost always get myself to sit there until it rolls over to the next page. Eighteen lines is close enough, but thirteen, or sixteen, is further away, and it's harder to force myself to sit and write. But I do it, then I have a page.

One page down, three to go, but you don't think of it that way. It's like jogging, don't think I did a mile now only three to go and I can stop. No, think okay I reached the mailbox, now to the stop sign, I can do that much. Okay, now just finish this paragraph, this scene, I can do this. Second page, and it's still painful just like that second mile. Third page, sometimes you pick up a rhythm, but sometimes it's just a slog, like that third mile. Now, when running, that fourth mile was my runner's high, in writing it's not so predictable. Sometimes I finish page four and it's almost as slow and agonizing as page one. But often, I find that around page four I get a rush of muse. Then I can finish pages in a wonderful gush of creativity; a writer's high. When you do lot's of pages in minutes and don't keep track because you're simply writing to keep up. It's great when the muse pulls the cart, rather then you having to push it.

Today was one of those agonizing days. It's Saturday, I didn't want to work today. But I have to, to have any chance of making my deadline. So, I got up early and came to the computer. I have six pages, and the last three were done in a rush, not a crawl, but I would never have gotten to those three if I hadn't crawled through the first three pages.

Kirkwood, MO

Today is one of those days when I feel like I don't have a real job. Or, maybe, it's less real than some other jobs. Days like today are what make me reluctant to interrupt police officers with my little research questions. I do it, but only with a certain embarrassment. I only write about death and killing; I don't, thankfully, deal with the real thing, on a daily basis.

St. Louis made national, and international news because one of our citizens went crazy and shot up the Kirkwood, MO, city council meeting. Five are dead, two wounded, at last news. The five dead include two police officers, two city council people, and a city engineer. The wounded included the mayor.

People are already debating, why? They are already trying to lay blame at more than just the man that pulled the trigger, and got shot to death for his troubles. But in the end, we'll never really know why. A lot of people feel aggrieved at their local government, but they don't get a gun and start shooting. Thousands of people every day loose court cases, but they don't' get a gun and kill people. Hundreds of people across this country are loud and obnoxious about their views, even disruptive in council meetings, but they don't take a gun to the next meeting, and use it. So why did this man do it?

I say again, we won't ever really know. Even if he were still alive to ask, he wouldn't give us a reason that would make sense to us. Because, in the end, there is no reason good enough for what he did. Nothing sane, anyway.

Our hearts go out to those touched by this tragedy. Let's all keep our heads, okay? Let's all stay sane out there, and not let this one event make us into people we are not. Remember, that no matter how angry you get, you are sane, rational human beings, and you'd be surprised how many people you hate have children who love them.

An apology

Hi! It is Darla.

Okay, I got asked why didn’t I check the spam filter sooner? I do check the one on my end, on my machine. That one I check every day to make sure that something hasn’t gotten dumped that I don’t want dumped. Which is why I have it set to hold the emails till I dump them.

I got an email from one of the two people who suggested Ripley that she had done so. But I didn’t have the email. The spam filter that grabbed it was the one on the service we use. Which is where I found six emails. It grabbed six out over 12,000 that were sent. Which is one reason I hadn’t checked it. So many got through, so they weren’t filtering for duplicates of subject or even email address because many folks made more than one suggestion and all got through.

Why did it filter just those six? I haven’t a clue why those were held up. Of the other 600+ pieces in their filter all were junk. The same winners had other emails in the contest, they went through just fine. So it must be something about the name Ripley that trigged it to send them to the filter.

Most filters look for a keyword or pattern that it then identifies as spam and shifts it to the filter. And it is not just words, it is the pattern the bits make that can trigger a filtering.

So I offer my apologies for not catching it sooner to the winners. It was my fault for not checking. I do check it. Usually once a month or so and it is rare that anything in there is something useful. Rare enough I check it occasionally, but often enough that I do have it hold them till I delete them personally. I should really have checked it after the contest ended. So totally my fault.

The two people who suggested Ripley as well as the person who suggested Ridley will receive signed books. Which is what we originally said we would do. And one of the two Ripley’s will be in the acknowledgements.

We still will have the usually drawing and auctions, if I can get arc’s to so with from the publisher. So for those that didn’t win, you still will have a chance to get a book before the release date.

Again, my apologies to the winners.

Tears, and a present I can't deliver

I ended today's writing session in tears. I actually had to get up and find some Kleenex. Yeah, someone died. I won't tell you who, because I didn't see it coming until two days ago. Then the writing which had averaged eight pages, crept to barely four a day, because part of me knew what was coming. Then all of me knew what was coming, and I didn't want it to come. Goddess, this is going to be a really hard book for Merry.

Hard book for the main character means a hard book for the writer. I'm still down, and no amount of sunshine is going to change that. One of the hardest things about writing for me is leaving the book at the computer, and not carrying it with me through the day and night. To be wrapped in someone else's sorrow so that it colors your own joy gray, is not a fate I wish on anyone. But if I did not feel my characters so deeply, would you, the reader, feel them, at all?

It's not all doom and gloom, this strange immersive way I write. I was looking on a website of birth stones for a potential gift for a friend. Then I saw that they had March listed as aquamarine. I thought, Nathaniel's birthday is coming up. He likes jewelry. Maybe a ring, or . . . About then I realized that Nathaniel was fictional and so was his birthday. Only real people can receive gifts and actually use them. I felt silly for a moment, but Jon says, that it's a wonderful thing that my imaginary friends are so real to me. It is, even I believe that most of the time. But it's not just their sorrows that bring me down. I had a moment of true regret when I realized that I couldn't give Nathaniel his present. Sometimes, even I wish that my imaginary friends were real. Not all the time, not every day, but there are moments when it seems wrong that I can't walk into the other room and share my day with them.

Jason Stage Name; take two

Okay, you know how I said that no one sent in the name Ripley for the Jason contest? Well, two people sent in the name. Why didn't I know that? Because the spam filter decided since so many e-mails had the same header, Jason Stage Name Contest, it must be spam. Darla found about six or seven entries trapped in with the real spam. Strangely, two of those were the Ripley entries.

So, we will take the first person to send in the name and make them our official winner. Though, I told Darla that I still think the person who sent in Ridley should get a signed book, because though two people sent in the name Ripley, I never saw them.

But how interesting that two of you sent in the name I chose, but I never saw them, until after I had made my choice. You know what they say, great minds think alike.

A winner for our Jason stage name contest

We have a winner for our give-Jason-a-stage-name contest. Ripley is the winning name. There were a lot of good entries, and some that were a little too tongue in cheek to seriously consider. There were also some names sent in that were used for other characters, some minor, but definitely not a name Jason would have chosen. Example: Simon. Simon is mentioned only once but he was the head of the wolf pack before Marcus, who killed Simon to be Ulfric. So, Jason who would have known that and would never have chosen the name. Bad politics.

So some names were minor character names, so couldn't be used. Some were names of my younger cousins and nephews. That sort of creeped me, because of the whole sexual content thing. Sorry, about that all you guys who picked those names, however unwittingly. But a surprising number of the names are actually already being used in BLOOD NOIR. My hand to God, Lucian is a vampire stripper in this book. So the people who sent it in as a choice for Jason's stage name, well, I guess you and I were thinking the same way. There's also a new character named Alex, short for Alexander. Again, all you who sent in that choice, sorry, but again, you and I must be thinking along the same lines. Thorn is a character that I cut out of DANSE MACABRE, but I'm hoping to use him down the road. So, the one person who sent that in as a choice, sorry, but I've got plans for that name. Keith is a sort of bad guy in BLOOD NOIR. Again, what are the odds that so many of the names in this new book are choices you guys are sending in? Weird.

There were several names, actually, that I've got up on sticky note as characters down the road, but none that I'm sure of that actually were on stage then got cut except Thorn.

So, congratulations to our winner. You will get a signed hard cover of BLOOD NOIR, and written up as our winner in the acknowledgements.

Okay, me again. I wrote the above a little while back, then had to rethink it. Why?

Because Ripley is not one of the names you guys sent in; Ridley is. But remember that whole I am dyslexic thing? I switched the 'd' to a 'p', and got the whole Alien reference. I mean Ridley Scott did direct Alien, but it is a different name. So Ripley it is, but, technically no one sent that name in as a possibility. So, what to do?

If the fan who sent Ridley in had not sent it, would I have come up with Ripley? Maybe, maybe not. So what we've decided to do is give the person who sent in Ridley the win, but technically, nobody won. It's one letter off, and apparently that day I couldn't see it. Sorry. The fan who sent in Ridley can say that he, or she, inspired me to come up with the name Ripley.

Even as I write this, I'm still dithering. The copyedits give me a chance to change the name. Should I? Skylar was a pretty strong contender, especially when I figured out that it's an Anglicized version of Jason's last name. Kudos to the person who figured that out, you're smart. But then I often think that about my fans. You guys keep me on my toes.

I've taken an informal survey of the women that work here, and asked which name works for stripping. One thought Ripley referenced ripping clothes off. Another thought it referred to ripped abs. We have three votes for Ripley, and a Skylar would do, but they prefer the other. But, in the end, they know it will come down to me. What works for me? No, what works for Jason? I think Ripley, because as he says in, BLOOD NOIR, "Sigourney Weaver is so hot." She's a little tall for my tastes, but I guess if you're a boy and Anita's height, as Jason is, you better like taller women. Average height for women is now officially, 5' 6". Wow, should I feel short?

Pace yourself

Nine pages today on Merry. Which is really cool. I've gotten five or more pages done for the last three days. So why not raise the bar, and make eight my minimum like it was for years? Because this book has made me tired faster with fewer pages. Four pages sometimes takes me all day, and exhausts me. So, if I make more than my page count, yea! But I don't count on it.

This isn't lifting weights, where if you can do twenty reps with ten pounds, you up the weight next time to fifteen. If you can do twenty reps with fifteen, you up the weight again, until you get to a weight where doing ten is work.

If you try for that attitude with writing, you don't build more muscle, you tire yourself and your muse out. For me to up my page count on this book, I would need a month of exceeding my page count. Thirty days, then I'll believe that four is too low. But beware of those days when the muse and you are dancing fast and furious. It can give you the illusion that it's all going to flow, and you can do it all.

I've learned on days that are really good, to never talk to New York about deadlines, because buoyed by a muse-driven day, you can promise things that your imagination has trouble delivering. So, easy does it. Writing a book isn't a sprint, it's a marathon. Pace yourself accordingly.

Paying the piper, or I hate edits

The best writing is rewriting.

E. B. White


Why start with that quote? One, he's one of my favorite writers. Two, BLOOD NOIR is back from the copy editors. Sigh.

Remember how I said, I hoped the book stayed in New York a long time? Well, so much for that hope. It's back. I am not ready for it to be back. But then, it's sort of the price I pay for having two successful series. I am always working on different books in different stages of the process.

I did eight pages of SWALLOWING DARKNESS today, though it's taken me all day to do it. There will be no weekends off for the foreseeable future for me. The schedule just doesn't allow it. I'm trying to take small breaks, and trying to carve out times on the business trips to do relaxing things.

Jon and I had a grown-up weekend, because Trinity is with her father this weekend. We did manage to do some relaxing things. The hot tub got used. I did five pages yesterday morning on Merry, so we had the rest of the day to do other things, which was very nice.

But today, I was tired, and I just didn't want to work. I'd finally convinced myself that taking a little time off on weekends was possible and good. Now the schedule has crunched, and it's no longer possible or good.

BLOOD NOIR edits are on a very quick turn around. The only really good thing is that the extra time I took with the book earlier has paid off, and there is a very short list of copyedit queries. Editing is like most things in life you either put the time in early, or late, but you will put the time in eventually. I usually rush to get the book to New York then fix everything in editing and copyedits. It's kind of interesting doing it the other way around. I'm not sure if it's better or worse, it's just different. Like I said, its just a matter of when you pay the piper, not if. You always pay the piper with hard work and sweat when you edit, it's just a matter of when he gets his due.

On days when the muse is hard to find

People ask me, how do I write on days when I don't want to write? What do I do when the muse is not only not whispering in my ear, but it feels like she's taken a vacation without me? Well, below is part of that answer. I will hit cap lock and give myself permission to complain. To state why I can't possibly work today. Somewhere in the middle I realized it might be a blog, of some kind, but I decided to let you guys see what I wrote to just get started for the day. I have resisted the urge to edit it. Enjoy my version of unstopping the creative clog.

I CAN'T DO THIS. I CAN'T. SASQUATCH PEED ON MY NEW CHAIR. THE INCENSE IS GETTING IN MY EYES. PHOUKA AND SAS WON'T SETTLE DOWN AND FIND A BED. PHOUKA IS BLIND SO IT'S NOT HER FAULT, BUT SHE'S KNOCKED SOME STUFF OFF. FOR SUCH A LITTLE DOG SHE IS STRONG, AND DETERMINED. THE NEW NICKNAME SINCE SHE WENT BLIND IS THE PHOUKA-DOZER, BECAUSE IF SHE HITS YOU FULL ON IN THE SHINNS YOU KNOW YOU'VE BEEN HIT. SHE'S ALMOST BROUGHT SOME OF US DOWN. She's learned that when we yell, careful, that she simply stops and either waits for us to come get her, or she goes slower ahead and tries to figure out what the hazard is. I've personally seen her run full into a tree, the kitchen cabinet, the living room coffee table, and a chair. She is the Phouka-Dozer.

Okay, I feel a little better. The mess Sas made is cleaned up. Phouka has finally decided her new hobby is licking the leg of my chair, but at least she's in one place. I keep trying to get Sas to lead her to a bed and settle, but a seeing-eye-pug he is not. She won't stay if I lead her to a bed, because I won't lay down on the bed with her, and Phouka is all about the company.

Of course, now I'm out of tea, but if I get up she'll try to follow, and if she'd follow me back and forth, that would be great, but she gets distracted. Sas is as bad, and because he peed on the new chair, I don't exactly trust him in the main part of the office by himself. Sigh.

I love my dogs, I love my dogs, I love my dogs. But there are days when I think three is plenty. Having written that, I'd still take Jimmy back in a heartbeat, if he wasn't in pain. It was his level of discomfort that began to make his last days so hard. Before that he was our old man. Our peeing on the furniture, teaching the other boys bad habits, old man. I can still picture him not long after we got him, chasing a rabbit in the yard. His ears flying out behind him, his body stretching out, moving. He almost got that rabbit. We got him when he was ten, estimate by the vet. He must have been a real pistol when he was young.

Phouka is settled in at my feet with her head on the leg of my chair. I think she's finally asleep. Sas and Pip are in different beds, resting, if not asleep. Now, if I could just figure out how to get tea without disturbing everyone, it would be nearly perfect.

Okay, this is me again, and not the unstopping of the creative clog. After I wrote the above I did three pages on the new Merry book.

Some days the free form writing is nothing but a list of why I can't write, but sometimes, like today, it's a rough blog, or a thought, or the beginnings of an essay, or some stray thought caught and put on paper when I'm trying to catch a very specific thought that eludes me. Anyway, hope this helps any of you would-be writers to find your own way to prime your pumps, and get the clog out of the way so the muse can whisper sweet somethings in your ear. I mean, who really wants sweet nothings whispered in your ear?