Linky Things

I haven’t been around these parts much lately, have I?

It’s not because I don’t love you. I do. Mostly, I’ve just been lots of OTHER places, plus, you know, being sick, which is time-consuming and anti-productive.

But, if you miss me, you can check me out in these spots!

Spellbound Scribes
In which I write about spin-offs!
I also talked about Samhain recently.
I also wrote about how my husband and I read books together. (Aww.)

Solitary Druid Fellowship
I write about druid-things pretty regularly at the Solitary Druid Fellowship, so if you feel curious, you should check that out as well!

Searching for Superwomen
While I’ve been neglectful of blog posts over there, too, you can see my face almost every week on their YouTube channel, talking Supernatural or running our wild-n-crazy Magetech RPG.

 

Giggles and Links

Just yesterday, the awesome author Patrick Rothfuss introduced me to Garfunkel and Oates, an awesome girl-folk-humor duo whose song “Handjob, Blandjob, I Don’t Understand Job” has been stuck in my head since my fiance and I did a tour of their repertoire via YouTube and Spotify last night.

By the way, this post is Not Safe For Work in the best way: humorous videos to come!

Anyway, Drew pointed out that overly-intellectual comedy-music has become “a thing.” He and I have been fans of Bo Burnham for awhile now, and Bo’s smart-skinny-white-guys-are-funny-and-cool act has solidly cemented him into the genre.

Both Bo and the girls prove that smart is funny and sexy… plus, nerdy people rapping is just hilarious.

So if you want a giggle, check out “Sex With Ducks” by Garfunkel and Oates:

And “Ironic” by Bo Burnham:

For further amusement and enlightenment check out:

Wednesday Round-Up

Yes, another Wednesday has come in which I have little to say, but much to pass on. So, for your enjoyment…

An interesting side-by-side comparison of how The Hunger Games and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo movies stack up as adaptations.

Beware the Fairy Ring: first post on Spellbound Scribes, a group blog of paranormal writers, which shall feature yours truly! Meanwhile, fellow Scribe Adriana Ryan asks bloggers if they’ve ever considered a joint blog.

That’s What She Really Said: one geek chick’s reinterpretation of that annoying joke none of us can get out of our heads. (Yes, this post is a bit too computery for me, too, but it’s still an awesome thing to do.)

Cristin Terrill writes about the things we latch onto that will make everything magical and perfect. For me, it’s “after the wedding.” After the wedding, I will write more and send out queries and learn guitar and probably lose weight, too late.

Finally, I got tagged by the Lucky 7 meme by Nikki McCormack.  Here are the rules of the game:

1. Go to page 77 of your current MS/WIP (If you don’t yet have 77 pages of your current work in progress completed, just choose the first seven sentences.)
2. Go to line 7
3. Copy down the next 7 lines, sentences, or paragraphs, and post them as they’re written.
4. Tag 7 authors, and let them know.

I’m pretty sure this meme has struck EVERYONE I KNOW by now, but if you’re reading this and haven’t been tagged, consider yourself one of my lucky seven.

So, without further ado, seven sentences from page 77 of Shaken. (And just for the record, since my laptop is in the shop–sob–I had to download my own book to give you these seven sentences.)

Still, this is an emergency.

Armed with my vodka, a cappuccino, and the optimistic gesture of a box of condoms, I step back onto the sidewalk. I feel absurdly better, like I’ve taken control of my life, and everything will be fantastic after I finish this one cup of coffee and fix myself a fresh martini. Some caffeine, a drink, and an evening with Tom, and I’ll conquer this case, no problem.

Almost excited, I start to hurry past the alley where bums usually convene on
weeknights, but something I glimpse from the corner of my eye makes me stop. Midway down the alley, someone is sprawled, spread-eagle, across the ground, about two feet from a dumpster. He isn’t moving. A fleeting vision of my date with Tom dances through my head, and I sigh.

Wow, that read like the blurb from the first page inside the cover that mystery novels sometimes have, didn’t it?

Finally, a giggle for all the Hunger Games fans: