Who's got the time?!

My blogroll is sadly lacking.

Jess and I have been looking into possibilities for a blog tour to promote our upcoming kamikaze west coast tour, covering stores from San Mateo to Seattle. And there are just dozens of really cool blogs out there. And these are just the ones relating to mystery writing!

So my vow is to add at least one blog a day to my blogroll for the next two weeks. Reading each of them every day is another story, but I’m going to try and swing by each of them at least twice a week. It’s hard, though. I could spend all day noodling on the ‘net, reading other writers blogging about their experiences…and be perfectly content. However I have about half a dozen guest posts to write before May 1st, not to mention writing up the schedule to post on my website. And then there are my two pesky WIPs. Oh yeah…and my day job. And my nine cats (how I wish it was still 10…), my dog and my boyfriend.

My question to anyone who reads this post is: how the heck do you find the time to keep up with your blogroll, writing, family, work and life? ‘Cause I could really use some suggestions here!

Why I haven't blogged for a week

Although y ou really should be reading my posts HERE.

Oh, the shame of it! The stain upon my honor will never be washed from the fabric of the laundry of life. Nay, there is not enough spiritual spot remover to expunge the…the…er…well…

Never mind.

I didn’t write any posts last week. At this rate, it will be time for Left Coast Crime 2009 by the time I finish my series of posts about Left Coast Crime 2008.

Nah.

Last week was one of those ‘got a social event every friggin’ night except Tuesday night’ type of weeks. And Tuesday night I got a stomach bug. The weekend was taken up with more social activity; my sister Lisa was up visiting from Venice Beach (one of the cool parts of Los Angeles) and we had a full weekend of beach walking, ferry trips, wine tasting and exploratory drives up the 101 and 116 to the coast.

I did, however, finally finish the prologue for BAD RAP, my current WIP. Third person is NOT my friend and it took me an inordinate amount of time to hammer it out. But it’s done, I’m happy, I tasted good wine and took my first ferry ride since moving up to San Francisco. I haf no regrets!

But I do have a hell of a lot of posting to catch up on.

I’m also doing another mini blog tour in prep for a live (not dead!) signing tour with fellow mystery writer Jess Lourey, author of the hilarious MURDER BY THE MONTH series. She’ll be promoting her new book AUGUST MOON and I’ll be promoting MURDER FOR HIRE: The Peruvian Pigeon. To check out our tour stops in the Bay Area to Seattle, starting the Wednesday before Memorial Day, go here. I’ll be doing an interview with Jess on Pointless Drivel on April 22nd. Don’t worry, I’ll post a reminder.

Jess and I are planning on a pacifistic Thelma and Louise type drive from San Fran up to Seattle. Only problem is we both wanna be the Susan Sarandon character. Which is okay ’cause even though we won’t get laid, we won’t get our money stolen by a sexy drifter either.

Super Power

Ever played the 'if you could have a super power, what would it be?' game? Y'know, the power to fly or turn invisible or whatever takes your fancy. My super power of choice has always been teleportation. This would include a guarantee I would always teleport successfully (correct location, body not turned inside, internal organs where they should be, etc) and be able to take person/persons and inanimate objects with me. This way I wouldn't have to pay for gas, plane fare, rental cars, or animal sitters. I could go out of town and teleport back to clean out the cat boxes and feed the little darlings. Pretty nifty super power, eh?

As of this weekend, however, a new power has supplanted (at least temporarily) my tried and true dream of teleportation.

I want to be able to make people fart at will.

MY will. None of this 'pull my finger' stuff.

Now before you dismiss this ability as being worthless to anyone over the age of 10 (or not a drunken frat boy), think about it for a minute. True, the idea originated because of an unworthy desire to see a particularly pompous acquaintance taken down a few pegs in his own self-esteem, but then the ramifications of this gaseous power began to occur to me. Imagine what would have happened to, say, Hitler back in the days before he obtained real power, had he been seized with uncontrollable bouts of flatulence whenever he tried to give a public speech? Would anyone have taken him seriously? He'd just be known as that farty little gasbag with the doofy mustache instead of one of history's greatest monsters. And had George W. let a few wet and juicy ones rip on the campaign trail I seriously doubt we'd have had to put up with him for the last 7 plus years.

Think about it, ladies and gents. The power to change history without raising a finger. Or pulling one either.

My super heroine name?

The Fartiste, of course.