Come And Get It, You Bargainistas (And Bargainistos)

Everybody loves books. Even the people who say they don’t love books really do love books…they just don’t know it yet. They haven’t picked up the right story is all. I know this from personal experience >> CHECK IT OUT: I’ve known the Hubster for more than fifteen years, and he’s never been a reader. Hated to read, period. He wouldn’t even read my books – instead, he listens while I read them out loud (which is something I do, at least twice, before I send them on to beta-readers). Until, this summer, when he picked up a Jack Reacher book while we were in Colorado, he never, ever, ever read.

Okay, well, that’s extreme. He read in college. And he reads for his work. And he reads menus.

But other than that? No reading, until Lee Child worked his magic on him. Now he’s devouring the stuff and begging for more. IT’S A FESTIVUS MIRACLE!


Click! Click! Click Here! Click!

The unread masses can be converted, people! They’ve just gotta find the right read. You can help ’em, by pointing them in the direction of this fabulous eBook sale. Loads of titles (including Shrilugh) all discounted to 99 cents. Pretty stinking fantastic, am I right?

Here’s what else is going on in Myndi-Land:

HANNA TITLE REVEAL*Hanna, Hanna, One-and-Two is coming along. This is good. Beta-readers, are you ready for some melt-your-face-off-awesome? Oh, man. I guess that kinda sets this whole thing up for a big-ass fall. Maybe I should re-phrase. Are you ready moderately-well written prose with semi-likable, semi-hatable (is hatable a word???) characters? *rolls eyes at self* Oh, brother. One of these days I’ll manage to be appropriately confident. Until then, continue to expect nightmarish vacillations between obnoxious overconfidence and weasel-istic apologies for my lack of talent.

*My sweet, aging Golden-pup is limping. It makes me sad to see her growing old. We’re keeping her comfortable, but we know her time is coming soon. Sadness.

*I had a very exciting conversation with somebody about something. It’s all very exciting. I am very excited. EXCITED! (Did you know that when you type that word over and over again it starts looking like a fake word?)

*Hey, have you checked this out yet? If you dig Sherlock Holmes, or Steampunk anything, or all of the above, you’ll love this. If you have an iPad, it’s a crime for you not to download it. CLICK HERE.

Since you’ve made it this far through this dull-as-my-four-month-old-razor blog post, here is something cute to watch.

Live well today, people. You don’t get any part of this day back. Unless you’re a time traveler. If you’ve a time traveler you can pretty much do whatever you want, ’cause, you know, *shrugs* you’re a freaking time traveler.

This post has gotten completely out of control. I’m signing off now.



“I’m Too Sexy” And Other Entertaining Ways to Horrify Your Children

It’s been hot here lately. It’s not surprising; late August in south-central Kansas is always hot. Everybody here just takes it in stride. What else are you gonna do? It’s the weather.



Anyway, last Saturday the kids and I were sitting around the kitchen table eating brekkie, and VV Mike says, “Mom, it’s hot outside. I’m gonna take off my shirt.”

Not really sure why he felt the need to announce it, but his little proclamation triggered something in my brain, and I started singing,

“I’m too sexy for my shirt. Too sexy for my shirt. So sexy it hurts!”

All eyes at the kitchen table had turned to me, with looks that said, Mom’s gone off the deep end, and we’re watching it happen in real time. Why, cruel world? Why?

I stopped singing and said, “Right Said Fred? I’m Too Sexy?”

The kids glanced at each other, speechless, as if I’d just spoken to them in Klingon instead of English.

“It was a popular song when I was a kid,” I said, grabbing my phone. “Hang on.” A few seconds later I had this YouTube video up and running.

They watched in stunned silence.

“You thought that was cool?” WillyJ asked, his eyes begging me to say, No, honey. I didn’t like it. Everyone else did, but I didn’t. But I can’t lie to my kid, so I said,

“Yeah. I kinda still do. It has a catchy beat.”

VV Mike chimed in. “Do you know Vanilla Ice?”

Now it’s my turn to stare on in disbelief. “You know about Vanilla Ice?”

“Yeah. My teacher in school showed us. Can you find him?”

So I brought up this video.

Now VV Mike and I are dancing around the kitchen (and I’m proud to say I still know ALL the words) while Willy J is looking at us like aliens have taken over our bodies. Everything about his expression says I don’t know who you people are anymore.

At this point, I’m on a roll. I bring up this video:

And this one:

But the coup de grace was this one.

Willy J was literally rolling on the floor, holding his belly while he laughed. “Their pants!” he gasped. “They’re so puffy! Why are their pants so puffy?”

Apparently parachute pants aren’t going to make a comeback in this house.

What things from your childhood equally horrify and fascinate your offspring, nieces, and nephews? Comment and post links to the videos below. VIDEO PARRRRTAY!


Shut Up and Listen.


It’s kind-of a slogan in our house. Not one aimed at the kids to get them to lower their volume level (though Lord knows there are days. Oh, yeah. There are days), but one that means, “Hey, you. Life is too busy and too loud. Shut your mouth, slow down your mind, and listen.” Sometimes that means slowing down and finding a way to be quiet. Other times that means cranking the piss out of the hi-fi.

Okay, I confess: It ususally means cranking the piss out of the hi-fi.

One our favorite things to do – as a couple, and as a family – is to hang out in our front room (nicknamed The Listening Room), cup of something hot in hand, and spin some vinyl. Yes, we are those people who will regale (aka, bore) you with the virtues of old-fashioned records if we’re able to corner you at a party. Whatever. It’s charming. We’re charming.

Over the years, the Hubster has put together a pretty decent little system. I know absolutely NONE of the specifics (he’s tried to tell me, but I check out whenever that conversation happens. Hmm. Not charming when it’s happening to me…), but my ear knows enough to know that it is G-O-O-D, good.

Every now and then, he’ll bring home some new equipment to add to his set-up. So last week, when he came home looking as jolly and sparkly-eyed as Santa on crack, I knew he’d scored something good. He tried to explain what it was, but, like I said before, I check out whenever the details happen. Just get it hooked up, I told him (while praying that whatever it was wasn’t too ugly), and I’ll make some coffee. Then we’ll shut up and listen.

It was awesome.

The two little black boxes that hover behind his speakers aren’t the loveliest things I’ve ever seen, but what they do to his speakers is…

Hmmm. I dunno how to explain it. It’s good.

The Hubster sent me this quote from a review about them. This guy sums it up pretty well:

“My neighbors hate them. My cat fears them. My girlfriend doesn’t understand them. My roommates love them. For full go screw-yourself power, they can’t be beat.”


Do our kids love it as much as we do? Check out VVMike shakin’ what I made him while The White Stripes do their thing:

Wishing you a happy, stress-free weekend that gives you what you need to unwind.