http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/index/ Laurell K Hamilton's Blog en lkh@laurellkhamilton.org Copyright 2009 2009-11-20T12:18:47+00:00 http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/the_book_woke_me/ http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/the_book_woke_me/#When:12:18:47Z The book has driven me from sleep. Driven me from sleep and cuddling beside a perfectly, wonderful warm husband. I woke at 4 AM from a dream about football and I was either a player or a coach, but it was like I never saw myself and I was more a camera looking out, so I’m assuming I was a man, but didn’t feel different, just weird. The last of the dream was Mike Rowe from Dirty Jobs taking the helmet camera off of me, and joining the crew for a laugh at how I had marks on my forehead from the camera outfit. I do mark up easily. On that odd note the dream ended and I was left staring up into the velvet darkness with the book instantly in my head. The next scene vivid, the characters settling down to talk and all I have to do is get to a computer and catch up. By the way, the book has nothing to do with football, Mike Rowe, or Dirty Jobs. No idea where the dream came from, but it certainly didn’t dissuade, or distract me from the totally different material of my current book. I made myself cuddle back against Jonathon’s warm skin, my favorite comfort object is my husband, but sleep was over for me. I made it until 5 AM and then I woke Jonathon enough to let him know I was getting up and he could sleep longer. We have a deal that if one of us wakes up early we let the other one know so there’s no waking up to an empty side of the bed and going, where are you? The trick is to wake them up just enough, but not too much so the other half can get back to sleep. That delicate mission accomplished I fetched my clothes from the seat at the foot of the bed where I’d had the good sense to lay them out last night and crept into the bathroom to get dressed. Now I’m here typing this while I wait for tea to finish brewing. Then I’m getting a cup and heading for my office. Sasquatch, our pug, was still sound asleep in his crate. He seemed almost puzzled for me to wake him in the dark and totally did not want to go out in the cold night time world. He wouldn’t go forward until I brought the big flashlight onto the steps so he could see. He looked back at me as if to say, "I’m not a cat you know. I don’t do that whole see in the dark thing." I lit his way and down the steps we went. He went in as little grass as he could manage skirting the flower beds. The grass sparkled under the flashlight beam and I thought we’d finally had a hard frost, but it didn’t look quite right. So I bent down to touch the grass and found it was simply soaking wet. It hadn’t gotten cold enough for frost last night. Sasquatch is like most pugs he hates to get his feet wet. He ran out in it, and ran back as fast as possible. I barely had time to admire the stretch of black sky above me and to pick out Orion almost overhead, before he was darting past my feet. He looked back at me from up the steps as if to say, "What are you waiting on?" It certainly wasn’t my comfort loving pug.  Tea timer has sounded. Yay! Sasquatch has persuaded me to feed him before I go to the office. I have to say that pets do impede speed of progress some mornings, but I think how would I feel if I was hungry and couldn’t use my own can opener? I can hear him happily eating, the busy jingle of his collar letting me know he appreciated me warming his soft food in the microwave before mixing it with his dry. He’s done and has come for his back scratch. Oh, and he gets his first sweater of the season. Did I mention that pugs are comfort loving dogs? Sasquatch spent yesterday huddled on the couch and wouldn’t leave it. When Jonathon sat down he immediately climbed into his lap which he doesn’t often do since Sas’s seat on the couch is on the opposite side from Jonathon’s. So when he had to get up to go back to work he covered Sas with a blanket. The dog normally doesn’t care for that unless a person is under the blanket, but yesterday he huddled under it letting us know he might be cold. When I put his sweater on him just now he didn’t protest or give me that long suffering dog look. He also trotted down the hall beside me after being sweatered with a jaunty little walk and a tightly curled happy pug tail. A few minutes to let him digest and then one more trip out into the dark and then I can finally get to my desk. Ah! If I don’t actually get to make a few pages before our daughter has to go to school when I woke up at 4 AM with the book loud in my head I will be . . .  not happy. As it’s six, I’m running out of time. I love my dog, but without him I’d be over at my office instead of in the kitchen. You’d have a much shorter blog, but I’d be at work. I luvs my dog, and he makes me smile on days when nothing else does, but today quicker would have been nice. Blogging 2009-11-20T12:18:47+00:00 http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/getting_that_novel_unstuck/ http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/getting_that_novel_unstuck/#When:02:08:30Z So many of you are doing the National Novel Writing Month and apparently many of you have hit the wall. Writer’s block you call it, but really that’s a very specific problem. What you actual have is just that moment when the book slows down. It happens. Its happened to me over the years with lots of books, not ever book, but enough. I’m writing book 30, so I know a few tricks to jump start the creative motor, and I’m happy to share. 1. Change desks. Change where you are writing. I have four desks in my office so that I can always move around if need be. Go sit on the couch, put on the TV for noise, but it has to be something you’ve seen a dozen times, nothing new. 2. Get out of Dodge. Take your portable computer or your notebook and go out to a restaurant or library, I prefer restaurants, and write there. I’ve found this particularly helpful over the years. Most of OBSIDIAN BUTTERFLY, the ninth Anita Blake novel was written at St. Louis Bread Company/Panera. I find if I’m out of the office for this reason that writing long hand in my notebook can shake something lose rather than just switching to the portable computer. 3. Music. I listen to music when I write, almost always. When I write outside the house I take headphones and my music. I find that sometimes until I find the right music the book stalls. Sometimes I find that if the book slows, or horror stops, that finding new music gets me going again. I used to try and talk myself out of this, that I was being a baby and just to get to work, but I’ve learned that my muse and I love music, and my muse needs certain music. It changes with each book, but I usually pick an album or a band with several albums and build a play list around them. When the writing slows despite finding the right music then I’ll listen to a musical. That’s right on a bad day I have a musical picked per book and listen to that. If that doesn’t do the trick I resort to Christmas music. Everyone here knows if they hear Christmas music coming out of my office at the wrong time of year the writing is going very, very badly, and they try to avoid me. 4. Sometimes I find that even in my office that using headphones so the music surrounds me and cuts out more distractions helps. 5. Change your clothes. This sounds funny, I know, but on a morning when the writing has been utterly sluggish its as if the crap of the bad work session clings to my shirt and I find that if I put something fresh on it gives me a fresh perspective. I’m giving you the things that have worked for me. I don’t question why my muse and I get along, I just work to make it happen. 6. Brush your teeth, or wash your face, or put on some makeup, comb your hair; anything ordinary. I find that if the writing is going really badly I start getting anxious, nervous, and if I get up and do something mindless and ordinary it breaks the cycle of anxiety and calms me down. Often just calming down helps the writing begin to flow again. 7. Find what time works for your muse. Some muses like night for work. Some like day. Some are, gasp, morning muses. If you can figure out what time of day you write best then try to write at that time and protect the hell out of that prime writing time. Don’t let anything, or anyone, encroach on it. Your prime writing time is like a freshly killed wildebeest and you are the lion. Protect your kill, because if you let the jackals of distraction steal your wildebeest you may not catch another one that day. I find that my prime time is usually first thing in the morning when I hit my desk. If I miss that first wave of inspiration then I can struggle all day and never hit my stride. 8. Stare at a wall. I have one desk that faces a wall. My other main desk has windows on either side of it for more of a view. On days when my distractibility is high I will change to the wall so the view, birds flying by, leaves, whatever cannot distract me. 9. Stare out a window. Some days sitting in a chair with a notebook in hand staring out the window is exactly what I need to get my ideas going. Just doing nothing helps my mind to settle and work. I can’t tell you how to decide what’s procrastination and what’s productive staring out the window. That is a judgment call that every writer must make on a case by case basis. 10. Take a walk. Lift weights. Do something physical. I find that sometimes too long at the desk just cramps everything up and getting the body moving can get the mind and the muse moving. I don’t know your level of health or activity so only do things you are safe and capable of doing, but a walk around the block can do wonders for unsticking a plot. I find that a regular exercise routine really helps my productivity. 11. Play with your dog. Pet your cat. Never underestimate interacting with a pet. Again, it can still your mind long enough for something to unstick. 12. Garden. Game. Do your hobby. This one only works in limited amounts, because its too easy to turn this into procrastination. But in small bites again it helps unstick the mental gears. 13. Sex. I almost didn’t put this one in, but leaving it out would be me leaving something off the list that really helps me. For me sex is refreshing to the spirit and the body, as well as the mind. It quiets my mind because when I have sex I think about only that, only the person with me. The endorphin rush of good sex is a wonderful boost to me and my muse. I find that sex clears my mind, and that once that happy afterglow fades enough for me to move, I often know exactly what comes next in a book. 14. When did you eat last? If you forgot to eat your mind can get foggy from lack of nutrients. 15. How much sleep are you getting? Tired minds don’t function as well. 16. Give yourself permission to be really terrible on paper. Let your first draft suck, but finish it. Once you finish it even the worst piece of shit can be rewritten, but if the words remain forever stuck in your head waiting for the "perfect" phrase you will never finish that first draft. Finish it, and even if its as terrible as you fear you can now begin rewriting it. It’s a first draft not a final one. Give yourself the room to be bad at this at first. You’ll get better at writing with practice like you get better at any job. Do you pick up a baseball bat and hit like Babe Ruth the first time? No. Then why do you expect to sit down at the computer and write like (Fill in favorite writer here) the first time? Trust me, my first stories sucked. Everyone’s first stories suck. Yes, yes, there are exceptions to all rules, but for most of us we learn first by being bad at it. Then we learn how to make the bad not so bad, and with more practice, more rewriting we go from not so bad to actually being good. I sold my first book, yes, but I didn’t sell my first short story, or even my first dozen short stories. But for every unsaleable story I learned something. Something that got me that much closer to being good enough to sale. Just remember, first you are bad at it, then you can fix it, and with practice you’ll be better, and finally good. Blogging 2009-11-20T02:08:30+00:00 http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/merry_and_the_disillusioned_princess/ http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/merry_and_the_disillusioned_princess/#When:16:50:45Z I say I don’t believe in fairytales, and yet I’ve written eight books about fairie princess, Merry Gentry, and her search for true love, a father for her children, and a king to sit on the throne with her as queen. What I wouldn’t realize for years was that the entire idea for Merry came out of the very fact that I didn’t believe in happily-ever-after. I’ve said loud and long that I never believed in that whole Prince Charming fantasy of some perfect man coming to rescue the fair damsel and make her life perfect. I didn’t believe in the rescue and the perfect life part, but in retrospect I have to be honest. I did believe in part of the fantasy. I believed that I’d find that one true love and I’d spend the rest of my life with him and we’d be head over heels in love for the rest of our days. I did believe in the happy-ever-after part and the true love part. I believed that there was one soul-mate for me somewhere and once I found him it would all be all right. My soul-mate, love of my life, and I married while still in college. I’d never been in love before. I’d never had sex before. He was my first in so many ways. Oh, just to be clear I was a virgin until 21. I believed, sincerely, in that ideal that I’d wait and the man I loved would wait and we would have sex together and it would be the better for having waited. Oh, yeah, if I waited and was virgin I’d decided to hold out for a man that had done the same. If I had that much self control then why would I settle for a man that had less? That was my thought at the time. Downside to the whole little white dress, first lover thing, is that you have two virgins with little or no experience on a wedding night. I remember thinking, it’s fun, but it will get better. It didn’t. What no one tells you while you wait for Mr. Right is that just because you love each other doesn’t mean you match up sexually. Sex means a lot of different things to a lot of different people and we married having no idea that was true. I wasn’t uniformed, because I’d done research, I’d read, listened to enough friends over share over the years. We knew what went where, but all the talk failed to explain that it matters not just where, but how its done. I loved him too pieces, and I believe he loved me sincerely, but we found that love meant different things to each of us, just as sex did. My idea of being a couple was not his, and vice versa. Neither of us had even dated anyone else seriously so we had no experience at being a couple. We agreed on politics, religion, child rearing, both played Dungeons and Dragons, and read science fiction and fantasy. We were both hard workers and determined. That’s what we had in common. We graduated college and went out in the world. We moved to Los Angeles together from a city of 30,000. Oh, Dorothy, we were so not in Kansas anymore. The problems that would eventually destroy our marriage were there from the first year, but we loved each other and love may not conqueror all but it sure can make you look the other way. First sign we were in trouble other than the on-going mismatch on sex was when he came home from work with this little announcement. That one of his coworkers had told him the man is the head of the household and that women are not equal in the eyes of God. He quoted scripture at me. We were both good little Epsicopalians at this point, may I add. He made these awful announcements and somehow thought that would make him win all the "discussions" we’d been having about the Bible and church, and I know realize looking back he was also trying to assert some kind of authority over me, in the marriage. My reply to him, "If that’s really what the Bible says, and really what God means, that being a woman isn’t as good as being a man then I can’t be Christian anymore." Not what he expected me to say. I’d never seen him back-pedal so hard in our first year of marriage. He basically said, his friend could be wrong and the Bible verses were open to interrprutation. Damn right they were, and damn right his friend was wrong. I am now a happy little Wiccan and have been for about ten years. So the religion we agreed on stopped being so agreeable. Then I became a middle of the road liberal conservative and he stayed conservative. So religion and politics not in common. We stopped gaming with live people and he crawled into cyberspace and played on line which I didn’t understand and didn’t want to do. We suddenly had no hobbies in common. I read more horror and dark fantasy than he did. He didn’t like scary things. He would go from being my first reader and cheerleader to not wanting to read anything I wrote and thinking it was wrong. He didn’t want me to write about vampires, or monsters, or violence, or sex, or, serial killers. Everything that fascinated my muse upset him. So I couldn’t share my writing with him, at all, and that is a large part of who I am. He was a computer engineer so I didn’t understand his job either. I’d discovered music, and no we shared nothing in that area either. We had a daughter together, and she’s still wonderful, but the marriage was going downhill at a rapid rate. I was miserable and he refused to see that I’d changed unless I made it impossible to ignore. We still liked musicals, but he wouldn’t see any movie with me that he thought would be scary or have a sad ending. I was married and going to movies by myself. I went to so many events by myself with just my daughter that people thought I was divorced long before I really was, because he didn’t want to go with us. He had a dozen hobbies none of which interested me. We were like roommates that occasionally had sex and shared a child together. If it was enough for him, it wasn’t enough for me. Into that despair comes an idea for a new paranormal series. The Merry Gentry series was created to help me cheat with other men without having to leave my real life husband. It was cheating without cheating. The sexual content was very deliberate. But of course, it wasn’t enough. In the end, my unhappiness couldn’t be bandaged by working on a series where my main character was looking for true love and great sex while I had fallen out of love and wasn’t happy in other areas either. When I wrote Kiss of Shadows, the first Merry book, I thought I’d tough it out in my first marriage. By the time I sat down to write the second book, A Caress of Twilight, I would be separated and dating again for the first time in over a decade. It was his idea for us to date other people, the moving out was mine. I puzzled at his encouraging me to date other people, but I think he believed I’d realize it was a cold world out there and I had it good at home. That wasn’t what I found. I found that I loved having my own apartment and picking out furniture without having to ask anyone’s opinion but mine. I was also more successful at dating than he seemed to think I’d be. This is the man who told me that I was pretty, but not beautiful. Turns out I ended up dating someone who’d been a friend for eight years, before it ever occurred to us to actually date each other. Jonathon and I have now been married for eight years, and nine years as a couple. I insisted we live together for at least six months before I’d consider anything else. I was never going to marry again, never. But when I realized I was falling in love again, I made sure to kick the tires a lot more thougharly. We lived together, we saw each other first thing in the morning, last thing at night, sick, unhappy, giddy, you name it, it was a very exciting year. And yes, we had sex. I did not want to make the same mistakes again, so this time I knew what I was getting in ever area and in ever way I could think of as a couple.  I also found that being married to my first husband didn’t prepare me to be married to Jonathon, just as his past relationships didn’t prepare him for me. Marriage is made up of two unique individuals, and in our case, some very unique individuals, but it works for us. The things that his ex fiance, and my ex husband complained about are plusses for us. Funny how what’s a problem for one couple is a strength when you change up the pairing. Writing Merry was hard after that because every book threw me back into those last few painful years of my first marriage. The first seven books of Merry were very wedded to that pain. Only now with book eight am I finally free to play in her world rather than continue trying to find Prince Charming. Merry is after all a fairy tale about a princess looking for her true love and her happily-ever-after. Spoiler alert now, so be warned: I think one of the reasons that Merry couldn’t pick just one prince to love is that I think the idea that one single human being can meet every need we have and make our life perfect just because we love them is too much pressure to put on anyone. We marry in such hope and then when that first burst of being in love fades we think we’ve made a mistake. My first husband said that love like that can’t last. It did for me for ten years with very little encouragment. This time with encouragement its looking much better. But its not effortless, I learned that you have to work at being a couple, you have to work at being happy, work at your issues so they don’t drive you apart, but this time I’m married to someone who understands that, too, and we work together. I enjoyed writing Divine Misdemeanors more than almost any other Merry book, because this time I could play in her world. This time I wasn’t cleaning up the ruins of my own failed fairy tale. This time I could let Merry be Merry, and the men she loves be themselves. It’s a dark book in places, with a serial killer on the lose, and Merry and her men in jeopardy, but its also a happy book full of a lot of joy. I finally realized with this book that once upon a time I believed in Prince Charming and that when that illusion shattered it broke my heart and I threw that heart break onto the page and wrote books about it. I’m a disillusioned Princess, and always will be, but I’m a wiser princess, too. I know that Prince Charming doesn’t come save me, we save each other and fight back to back against all comers that’s what marriage is to me. Nothing passive, no being carried off on a white steed, give me my own damn horse and lets ride into the sunset side by side. Blogging 2009-11-17T16:50:45+00:00 http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/kissing_jean-claude/ http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/kissing_jean-claude/#When:13:24:17Z Several people have asked why Jean-Claude has only been on the phone, or asleep, for the last two books; Blood Noir and Skin Trade. My answer, well the books take place out of town and Masters of the City don’t travel lightly and without a lot of political planning. But it was only as I sit down to make notes for Bullet the next regularly scheduled Anita Blake novel that I realized what my subconscious had been playing with. Remember in Blood Noir where we talk about needing to let the other vampires think that Jean-Claude is happily doing the other men so that’s why he keeps not adding women while Anita keeps adding men? Well, its one thing for the men to let the rumor flourish, and another to try and play up to that rumor. Asher would be fine however it was played as up close and personal as possible, and lets face it we need to either fish that particular handsome pond or cut bait. He’s not going to wait forever on the edge of the action with Jean-Claude. I can’t even blame him, but what of the other men? How does the rumor change things? First, how do the men greet Jean-Claude? Remember we’re not just trying to fool out of town vamps, but our own larger in town, in suite, vamp community. Vampires are great gossips and if our men don’t sell the rumor its not going to work. It’s still going to be that Anita is cuckolding Jean-Claude and he’s allowing it, which makes him appear weak. I’ve been making notes this week about greetings. The proverbial two kiss on the cheek, very European. (By the by men if you’re going to do the kiss cheek please either shave or have a beard, stubble hurts) Or a full kiss on the mouth. I have friends that are gay and they kiss each other in private, and semi-private. Which of the guys would be okay with that? Richard? So not. Not without a fight before, during, or after. Micah, maybe. Nathaniel, probably yes.  Damian, no. Let me add, hell, no, on his behalf. Haven, no. Jason, why not? I think we may have in past books. *laughs* The ones most secure in their manhood will be more comfy with intimate-ish greetings. Or people who have worked through their issues on it. Or men who really would be willing to pony up. How to act like a couple when you’re not, and the sexual orientation of the "couple" isn’t your cup of tea? Another reason to be out of town for last two books is the size of the cast in town now. So many people, some who haven’t been on stage in books. What happened to Elizabeth? Valentina and Bartolome, the children vampires? Damian hasn’t had a good scene in several books. Richard hasn’t had a strong on stage presence in several books really either. Blood Noir was almost a cameo. How do I do such a large and interesting cast justice? Again, I’ve been making notes. Plus we have new people and more new people coming into town. Ah! As a writer I’ve made my life very difficult, but it’s either that or devise some horrible happening to thin the herd of characters and it seems a crappy reason just because I feel challenged. So, not planning on that. So, I’m left with my two deliminas. I’ve got my notes made. Some plans laid down, but Anita and the gang have taught me again and again that my best laid plans mean nothing when they hit my characters and their personalities. So, we’ll see what happens. I’ll see if my notes hold up, or if Anita, or Richard, or Micah, or Nathaniel, or Damian, or Jason, or Requiem, or Ronnie, or Rafael, or even Jean-Claude throws them all to the wind. My Master Vampire is oddly one of the most cooperative of characters. Either that means he usually gets his way, or he’s planning to hit me all at once with some big demand the way Jason did in Blood Noir. Oh, dear.   Blogging 2009-11-13T13:24:17+00:00 http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/divine_misdemeanors_flirt_bullet/ http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/divine_misdemeanors_flirt_bullet/#When:23:42:29Z Divine Misdemeanors, who’s first chapter is up on our website, is the next Meredith Gentry book. It hits the shelves December 8th 2009! Merry is back in L. A. with Doyle, and Frost, Rhys and Galen, Sholto and Mistral, and all the gang. We also have her back working at Grey’s Detective Agency, because even a fairie princess needs to earn a living. Flirt that comes out February 2nd 2010, is an Anita Blake novel, but its a surprise book. I got the initial idea, and it was a new idea for Anita. Now I get ideas for Anita all the time, but ideas that become books usually take months, or years to make their way to the front of the que of novel ideas. This idea hit me and I was writing it as a novel only two weeks, or so later. Very unusual for me. The last time something close to this happened it was the book Micah, but I still to this day can’t tell you where that idea came from. So the seed of the idea must have been incubating for months, or years, before it burst onto my subconscious, and then hit my conscious mind right between the eyes. Flirt wrote as quickly as Micah, but with Flirt I knew exactly where the idea had originated. I made a note, because one of the most common questions I get is, "Where do I get my ideas?" So I kept notes. Where and when and how I got the idea for the novel. The process of writing it from page count, to how it overwhelmed my muse and me and interrupted another book. I kept track of the music I listened to while writing it. As much as possible I kept track of things I normally don’t keep track of, and I wrote it down in a piece in the back of the book. You get Flirt, an extra Anita book, and I do my best to answer the question about my ideas, and how I turn them into books. I also make the point that two different artists can have the same inspiration, but come away with completely different ideas. It is shorter than the normal Anita book, but Divine Misdemeanors is bigger than the last two Merry novels, so it was Merry’s turn to have the bigger book. Then, in June, is our regularly scheduled Anita Blake novel, Bullet. That’s still in the works, the other two are done-done. Still confused? Put it this way, Flirt was a side project that I thought I’d just do a few pages, get it out of my system and then I’d get back to my scheduled book. Instead, I ended up with a book in a near record time for me. I presented my publisher with a surprise book with Anita and the gang. I don’t know who was more surprised me, or my publisher. So, you guys get two Anita books next year one that tries to help answer that proverbial writer question, "Where do you get your ideas?" and the other that just kicks ass and takes names. Though Flirt does that, too. It is me afterall. In fact, for all those who have been wanting to see more of Anita raising the dead, you get your wish. For those who want to see Anita up close and personal, well there’s that, too. In fact, Divine Misdemeanors is also one of the most hard edged Merry books to date. There’s plenty of sex, so be warned if that’s not your cup of tea, but its a mystery. We set that up in the first chapter and that is the spine of the book. Who done it? What done it? How done it? And can we solve the murders without Merry, or the men she loves, paying the ultimate price? There, that answers the questions I’ve been getting, or at least I think it does. I’m sure some of you will let me know if its still unlcear. Blogging 2009-11-09T23:42:29+00:00 http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/my_impatience_your_gain/ http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/my_impatience_your_gain/#When:03:39:57Z You’re about to benefit from my impatience. Doiling out the second paragraph of the first chapter of Divine Misedeamors a line a day is driving me as crazy as doiling out the first paragraph of the first chapter of Divine Misdemeanors was driving me a day or so ago. Then my impatience led me to put up the entire first paragraph. Did you guess? Yes, here is the entire second, third, fourth, and fifth paragraph. I hope I get the PDF of the entire first chapter soon so I can stop teasing you guys with hints, and driving myself to impatient distraction. Enjoy.  The spicy smell of the Eucalyptus could almost hide the scent of blood. If it had been this many adult human-sized bodies the Euclyptus wouldn’t have had a chance, but they weren’t adult-sized. They were tiny by human standards, so tiny, the size of dolls; none of the corpses were even a foot tall, and some were less than five inches. They lay on the ground with their bright butterfly and moth wings frozen as if in mid-movement. Their dead hands were wrapped around wilted flowers like a cheerful game gone horribly wrong. They looked like so many broken Barbie dolls, except that Barbie dolls never lay so lifelike, or so perfectly poised. No matter how hard I’d tried as a little girl, their limbs remained stiff and unyielding. The bodies on the ground were stiff with rigor mortis, but they’d been laid out carefully, so they had stiffened in stragely graceful, almost dancing poses.  Detective Lucy Tate came to stand beside me. She was wearing a pants suit complete with jacket and a white button-up shirt that strained a little across the front because Lucy, like me, had too much figure for most button-up shirts. But I wasn’t a police detective so I didn’t have to pretend I was a man to try to fit in, I worked at a private detective agency that used the fact that I was Princess Meredith, the only American-born fey royal, and back working for the Grey Detective Agency: Supernatural Problems; Magial Solutions. People loved paying money to see the princess, and have her hear their problems; I’d begun to feel a little like a freak show until today. Today I would have loved to be back in the office listening to some mundane matter that didn’t really need my special brand of help, but was just a human rich enough to pay for my time. I’d have rather been doing a lot of things than standing here staring down at a dozen dead fey.  “What do you think?” she asked.  What I really thought was that I was glad the bodies were small so that the trees covered most of the smell, but that would be admitting weakness, and you didn’t do that on the rare occasions you got to work with the police. You had to be professional and tough or they thought less of you, even the female cops, maybe especially them.   Blogging 2009-11-07T03:39:57+00:00 http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/first_paragraph_of_divine_misdemeanors/ http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/first_paragraph_of_divine_misdemeanors/#When:17:12:07Z I had this great idea that I’d put a line a day of the first chapter of Divine Misdemeanors up on Twitter, which would also hit Face Book, and would through techie help be disseminated through my Forum, and My Space, but having done it for two days it’s driving me crazy. It’s like no progress. If I was a fan of someone’s writing it would just drive me to distraction in such little bits. So I’ve talked to my publisher about getting the PDF fo the first chapter and I will put it up when I get it. I have no way of knowing when I will get it. Soon, but no idea when soon will be. But in the spirit of good will and not making you guys wait a line at a time I’m putting the first paragraph of DIVINE MISDEMEANORS here: "The smell of Eucalyptus always made me think of Southern California, my home away from home; now it might forever be entwined with the scent, of blood. I stood there with the strangely hot wind rustling through the high leaves. It blew my summer dress in a tangle around my legs, and spread my shoulder-length hair in a scarlet web across my face. I grabbed my hair in handfuls so I could see, though maybe not being able to see would have been better. The plastic gloves pulled at my hair. They were designed so I didn’t contaminate evidence, not for comfort. We were surrounded by a nearly perfect circle of the tall, pale tree trunks. In the middle of the natural circle were the bodies." Blogging 2009-11-03T17:12:07+00:00 http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/tonights_workout/ http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/tonights_workout/#When:03:30:25Z My doctor cleared me for the gym tonight. Yay! So here’s the workout. All exercises are 3 X 12 which is 3 reps of 12 each. Flat bench dumbbell press - a paltry 10 pounds but the goal is no more injuries. Incline Press machine - 40 pounds. Yay! Dumbbell fly again only 10 pounds but it was done on the pilâtes ball, and again goal is no more injuries. Seated overhead shoulder dumbbell press 10 pounds on the ball. Standing upright row again with 10 pounds. Bah, but I’ll get to go back tomorrow because I behaved myself. Lateral Raises - 30 pounds. Yay! But I felt those. It’s always been a weaker exercise for me. Standing cable press downs - 20 pounds. Triceps kickback - Again a paltry 10 pounds, but I have to remember I just got cleared by doc to hit gym again this afternoon. So it’s all good. I also did 15 minutes on treadmill and that’s still more than I’ve been able to do in nearly a year. So happy there, too. We also did stretching exercises with the foam rollers after treadmill and before the weights. Abs: crunches again 3 X 12 just with no weights. Bicycle crunches with leg extensions 3 X 12 per leg so 24 at a shot. I felt those after this long a break. One ab machine: can’t remember what its called. It’s the twisty one. *shakes head* Can’t remember.   Blogging 2009-11-03T03:30:25+00:00 http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/busy_day_tour_dates_for_divine_misdemeanors/ http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/busy_day_tour_dates_for_divine_misdemeanors/#When:21:55:32Z Today I have: Worked on an essay that’s due November 1st. It’s part of the promotion for DIVINE MISDEMEANORS. I have at least one more essay that has been due for awhile and has a sort of when-I-can-get-it-to-them deadline. Added three new lines to the final proofs of Divine Misdemeanors in answer to a query from New York. Talked to my Random House publicist on phone, plus 3 e-mails from him. Got in the page proofs of FLIRT. Due ASAP. Got in the abridged script for the audio book of THE KILLING DANCE. Due back with any changes wanted in a week. Ha, ha, ha! No, really a week. Looked over first cover copy for next-next Anita Blake novel. Was asked when I will have first 100 pages of the book so they might get an excerpt to go on the cover which they’re doing art work for now. Looked over the final pencils for the newest Anita Blake comic. Looked over colors of same comic one of which I shared on Twitter. I have never, ever had so many books cross my desk all with such tight deadlines in my entire career. I’m not sure how this happened, but I’d like to figure it out and make sure it never happens again. All that to say that we are doing a very brief tour for DIVINE MISDEMEANORS. I’m sorry folks, but I can’t go out for a week, or six weeks which I’ve done in the past, and make the deadline for the next book. The choice is a long tour and see lot’s of you, or a brief tour and you get two Anita Blake novels next year. I short changed the tour for the last Anita novel, SKIN TRADE, to make sure you got a Merry book this year. So, for all those that I won’t see this tour, sorry, but I am not Superwoman, or even Superwriter. Since there is no "S" tattooed on my chest, I had to make a choice. I chose to get the books out. Here are the signings I’m doing for Divine Misdemeanors.   December 8, 2009 7:00 pm Talk & Signing Barnes & Noble 7881 Edinger Avenue Huntington Beach, CA 92647 Store Phone: 714/897-8781 December 11, 2009 7:00 pm Talk & Signing sponsored by Powell’s Bagdad Theater 3702 S.E. Hawthorne Blvd. Portland, OR 97214 Blogging 2009-10-30T21:55:32+00:00 http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/defending_jean-claudes_honor_at_the_tupperware_party/ http://blog.laurellkhamilton.org/index.php/site/defending_jean-claudes_honor_at_the_tupperware_party/#When:02:04:01Z Once I went to a Tupperware party as a favor to a good friend. She needed so many bodies to fill out her quota so I went, as a favor. I’d had a few odd instances with fans being overly fond of my Anita Blake novels, and I’d even had some disturbing moments with readers being overly interested in my fictional men, but I thought, it’s a Tupperware party I’ll be safe. I was about to be very wrong. It turned out that most of the women were fans of mine which was flattering, but they started talking about my characters, my male characters, and speculating on the size of their, um, equpment. They were debating on Richard and Jean-Claude. This was early in the series. I sat behind them on my little chair and thought in my head very loudly, "Don’t realize its me. Don’t realize it’s me. Please no one out me. Please, God." God was busy that day, and let’s face it on the grand scheme of things a little embarrassment isn’t a tradgey. One woman did know me, and of course my friend knew me, traitor. The woman I knew said, "I know someone that can answer the question." They all turned with her and suddenly I was the center of attention. "Laurell would know," she said. I blinked like a deer in headlights. I thought maybe if I say nothing, pretend I didn’t hear the earlier conversation they wouldn’t have the heart to say it all over again. Wrong again, they were relentless. I’d actually been asked this before so I had my answer, "If Jean-Claude were real, and really my boyfriend I wouldn’t kiss and tell." Most of the women nodded, but two of them did not. They persisted in trying to get me to list his size in inches. I refused, politely. Finally one of the women held up a cooking thing she’d won answering some question or other. It was a little plastic thing a cross between a spoon and a cup meant to dip into water and lift out hard-boiled eggs.Someone had explained what it was to me early. It was vaguely egg shaped with a hole in the bottom for the water to drain out. She raised it up, ran her finger around the edge of the hole and said, "Smaller than this, or bigger than this?" How could I possibly get out of this conversation? The women started saying that Jean-Claude would have to be smaller than the hole because the hole was pretty big. I remember thinking its not a big hole. They finally insulted him by assuming on my behalf that he was smaller than that, and that did it. I had to defend his honor. I shook my head and said, "I don’t think so, that’s a really small hole." They stared at me. I blinked back. They were happy with the answer. I was glad they moved onto a different topic. It had been a very small hole. Blogging 2009-10-30T02:04:01+00:00