Yep, that was year one I linked to the other day. One lowly post.

Not so for the second year of the Musical Hanukkah Celebration! I introduced a new character, Springer, and shared more of the inner workings from the band with you.

If you can find something that ushered in 2007 Hanukkah Celebration before this post did, show me the link and I’ll stand (very publicly) corrected. In the meantime, since I believe this is the first post from the 2007 Celebration, I’ll share it with you today.

This is the post that saw Springer come into the world. Thirty Bucks, I called it.

(reminder! At least 50% of all royalties I earn in November and December will go toward charity. The good news is that if you buy before November, you’ll help bump that percentage up anyway!)

Need to go back to the first flashback? Or move forward to the next?

Yes, I promise to have some actual content here for you soon. In the meantime, once you’re done refreshing your memory about Musical Hanukkah Celebrations Past, head over to Darcia Helle’s blog, A Word Please.

I’ve dropped in for an interview. And there’s a picture of me, too! (wearing one of my all-time favorite t-shirts. AND with makeup on! Woot!)

I know, I know. The first night of Hanukkah isn’t until December 1 and that’s still three months away.

BUT.

This year’s Musical Hanukkah Celebration is shaping up around here to be the biggest and best yet. Not only will ShapeShifter be playing, but so will some familiar faces. I’m hoping to have a really amazing t-shirt for you (hopefully designed by my good friend Lakota Phillips) and maybe, just maybe Demo Tapes: Year 3.

Since many of you are new around here, or may have merely forgotten, for the next two months, I’ll be posting flashback links for you. Whether it’s your first visit or your eighth, come join in the miracle of Hanukkah — ShapeShifter style.

Reminder: at least 50% of my royalties in November and December will be donated to charity. The more books I sell, the higher that percentage will go!

Here’s today’s flashback link. Give it up for Chelle LaFleur and the post that started this whole thing off, back in 2006.

Want to read in order? Here’s the link to Flashback #2.

… and so the promo for Trevor’s Song begins! I’m hanging out at Alice Audrey’s blog today, talking about Trevor and why we all like him so much.

There’s a giveaway with a catch, as well… stop in and see what I mean.

In the meantime, I’m still trying to settle into the school year and get my thoughts in order. Much to share with you guys this week!

We actually got back from vacation last Friday. Where’ve I been? Why am I hiding Trevor from you?

Well, I’m not hiding Trevor. You can buy him in print and e-book form. He makes a great gift.

However, me… yeah, I’ve been hiding. I’ve been spending the last few days of summer vacation with my kids. I’ve been processing what turned into an interesting vacation and since it’s about what happened in my personal life, no, I won’t be talking about it here. This isn’t a place that’s about me. This place is supposed to be about my fiction and I’ve replaced the fiction with myself way too much of late.

Some things on the horizon:
A HUGE blow-out for the Musical Hanukkah Celebration this year.
I’d like to get Demo Tapes 3 ready to release in conjunction with the Musical Hanukkah Celebration (I told you I was going big!), but I’m not entirely certain I can.

And some behind-the-scenes stuff:
Better networking to bring in new converts to the Trevolution
More help at Win a Book. I love its success, but it’s starting to eat up too much of my time.

and other stuff, too. Cross your fingers that I can pull it off.

But for now, I’m off to check out the Three Word Wednesday prompt and, as my kids head off on the big yellow bus tomorrow, getting back into the swing of things. I’ve missed this place. Hope you’ve missed me, too.

Yeah, so the Boy Band and I went down to the new Consol Energy Center today. If you follow me on Facebook (and you should!), you might have seen my status updates as the signs downtown changed. This is new, it’s exciting, it’s wonderful. Having a new venue in the city, where hopefully more bands will stop in and perform inside of…

Oh, yeah. Hockey. And man, does the ice look GOOD.

Walking into the Consol, I expected it to be all stiff and shiny. Almost overwhelming in its pomp and ceremony.

HA.

It was like slipping into a boyfriend’s shirt. The Boy Band and I agreed it was like coming home.

We wandered around. Holy smoke, the food prices! I thought they were bad last year, but NINE BUCKS FOR A PIZZA???? Hello, Consol and Pizza Hut people… I can get a pizza that feeds six of us for ten bucks. At the POOL. (and it’s good!)

Yeah. At four bucks for a bag of popcorn, even, I’ll be doing most of my eating at home, thankyouverymuch. What the heck; it’s healthier in the long run (although there is a fruit plate that’s priced at … ready? Six bucks!).

We went up to our seats (or what we think are our seats; we could only remember the section number and seat numbers, not the row.) — yes, as I’d feared, we are further back from the ice than we had been in the Igloo. But I gotta say it now: the sight lines are fantastic. I don’t think the players will be the tiny ants I was expecting them to be. If I can’t be ON the bench — not behind the bench, not in the first row behind the glass, but ON the bench. Butt on bench with the players — I want to be right where we are.

And the seats! Oh, I think the Tour Manager is going to be very happy with them. I know I was. They have great lumbar support and I suspect they’ll be great for doing multiple overtimes in once the playoffs come (me? Optimistic much? Nah.).

The women’s room at the top of our section has more than three stalls! Of course, this means less to joke about as we wait in line, but…

I was surprised to see that the toilets don’t have automatic flush. And that the faucets in the sink have those annoying water-wasters where you push the lever and can’t adjust the hot or cold or how long it’s on. And this is a LEED-certified building? At the highest level??? Sheesh. I thought the water would NEVER shut off.

Then the Boy Band and I wandered down to the club level, where a few of the boxes were open for inspection (we went into all the hoity-toity areas, in fact. I figure it’s the only time we’ll ever do it, so why not???). They are quite lovely and that private bathroom is something to covet. But the seats?

Yeah, they’re leather. They’re high-backed.

And after two minutes, they made my back hurt. I can’t imagine spending an entire game in them.

I’ll stick with the unwashed masses, thanks. Even if access to what they’re calling the Upper Bowl is confusing, limited, and probably a guaranteed death if we ever have to evacuate fast. That was probably my biggest complaint — but it’s also possible that once we learn our way around, we’ll find better ways up and down from the ground floor.

So now all we need is to wait for that puck to drop… I’ll be there with one or the other of my boys. I can’t wait.

In the meantime, I’m taking off for a few days R&R down at the beach. We’ll be back this time next week or thereabouts. You guys behave, peruse the archives here (can you say Musical Hanukkah Celebration? I’m already laying plans for the biggest and best yet), and buy my books. I got hockey tickets to pay off.

So I’m seeing all over the blogosphere (well, this isn’t the only place I’ve seen it) that today’s World Cat Day.

Around my house, every day is World Cat Day. I am cat furniture. I am the ears that get yelled in every morning at 5:30 AM. I am the one who schleps to PetSmart in search of Dental Diet (which has been discontinued! The cat better not hunger strike. That’s all I gotta say…)

But most important, I am CAT FURNITURE.

And I love every second of it. Except those 5:30 AM yowls in my right ear, but hey, it can’t all be paradise.

Go kiss a cat, will ya?

Shh. I actually returned from Cub Scout camp on Saturday. What have I been doing since then?

Not writing. Much. I have an outtake ready to go that I’ll include as a Friday Flash. Or maybe I’ll write to this week’s Wordless Wednesday… I don’t know yet. Maybe both. Maybe there will be more fiction around here again.

With three weeks and a day left until school starts, it’s time to wring the rest of the fun out of summer. I may be erratic here. I may not be.

One thing that’s certain, it’s time to start ramping up the talk about Trevor’s Song. It’s out there, guys, waiting for you. Trevor himself is. You can bring him into your home and have you SEEN that cover? Totally hawt. Maybe hotter than Trevor himself. You need a copy. And remember, I’ll sell you a copy cheaper than Lulu will. (should I really be advertising that? Sure. Why not?)

Which means… you want me, Mitchell, Trevor, or even Kerri to stop by your place for an interview or guest blog? Let’s talk dates. My calendar for September’s starting to fill up. You know I love to visit and make new friends. Let’s hook up and play.

More to come. Maybe it’ll be tomorrow. Maybe it’ll be once school starts. Who knows? That’s the fun of summer vacation. (at least for now)

Those of you who don’t follow me on Facebook* probably don’t know I’m headed for my favorite time of year: a few days spent in the woods with my son and a bunch of other kids and parents who take a few days to be kids all over again. Yep, it’s Cub Scout camp, and it’s my LAST ONE.

I AM contemplating borrowing a friend’s kid next year…

I’m telling YOU this because it means I’m going to be out of town for the rest of the week. We come back Saturday afternoon, but who knows when I’ll have caught up on my sleep. I am leaving you, and not scheduling a darn thing. Not even the awesome fiction I’m about to write. (Half-naked Mitchell? Oh, yeah, baby!)

And if I’m not thinking of you, don’t hold it against me. I’ve got BB guns to shoot, arrows to let loose a lake to swim and fish in, and a Boy Scout camp to (ulp) hike to!

*that link will take you to my fan page. You should hang there and interact with me!

1. Both versions of Trevor’s Song are now on sale!

2. Buy the digital versions (that means e-book versions) at Smashwords, where the novel’s half-off and the Demo Tapes are free. Use the coupon codes you see listed, if five bucks is too rich for your blood…

3. Buy the print version at Lulu. Or direct from me.

4. I’ll be selling it direct for cheaper, once you factor in the shipping charges. I can explain why privately, if you’re curious.

5. I’m available for interviews and guest blog posts.

6. I’ve got a bunch waiting to be written, though. Summertime’s slowed me down.

7. Yesterday was the pool. Today’s a quiet day. Tomorrow’s the Science Center. And I’m too whipped in the evenings to do much writing. Ouch.

8. I need to get over that, and fast. The Tour de France is in full swing, and it’s wonderful to write in front of.

9. I’m pulling for Andy Schleck, I think. But I have other favorite cyclists, too.

10. Check out their thighs! Wow. Things of beauty, these pro bikers’ legs.

11. Watching the Tour makes me want to go out and bike, but I’m still sidelined by an arm injury. Every time I set eyes on my road bike, I pout.

12. I think the cat has a kidney stone. Or maybe a UT infection. Or both.

13. That’s about it… stay cool, everyone!

Yep, boys and girls, it’s time for the Summer Sale over at Smashwords. Which means that once again, I’ve put the two Demo Tapes anthologies on sale — you can get them for free!

Seriously. Free.

Just like I did during Read an E-Book Week. I’m doing it again ’cause I made a lot of new converts to the Trevolution. And with Trevor’s Song finally about to come out (if I ever finish the formatting for Smashwords, and put the ISBN graphic on the back cover of the print version), this is the perfect time to help spread the word.

Here’s the link:
And here’s the Coupon: SW100.

Share the coupon. Spread the love. You know Trevor would!

If you read my review of Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist over at Rocks ‘n Reads, you’ll see the story of how I came to read this book last week.

I was looking over my Netflix queue a day or two later and I realized that Nick and Norah, the movie, wasn’t going to be available for instant watching much longer. In fact, I had something like a day left. So, I interrupted a fine evening outside in the dark, watching the clouds go by, to come inside and fire up the Instant Viewing. Good thing; I had mere hours left before it was gone.

Let me say first off that there are very few movies I like better than the book. Joyce Maynard’s To Die For is possibly the only book that wasn’t as good as the movie. No, not because of Nicole Kidman or Matt Dillon. Because of the power of the visual at the very end. (Saying anything more will spoil it. Just go watch the flick, will ya?)

Now, Nick and Norah had some very good visuals to endear the movie to me. The sight of Nick’s old, beat-up Yugo. And New York itself, looking every bit as good as it did when I roamed it on similar nights (never as long and, regrettably, never with a potential love interest of my own) during my own college youth.

But… the book is a million times better. Not just because we get to hear Nick and Norah’s internal monologues, but because many of the changes made by the writers were poor.

Okay, the whole bit about Nick’s Yugo being mixed up for a taxi was funny. And yes, I howled out loud when the enraptured (ahem) couple actually paid him for the lift.

But the change in the subplot involving Caroline? Like I didn’t see the cell phone being dropped a mile away… it wasn’t funny. It wasn’t even realistic that once she picked it up, it worked.

And the gum? Oh, man. That never lost its ick factor (and if that means I’m old, don’t tell me!).

You may not believe this, but I hated the scenes in Electric Lady Studios. It stretched disbelief that Hendrix’s guitar is sitting there so casually, on a guitar stand and not mounted to be preserved (although, having never been in Electric Lady, it very well could be). But for Norah to tell Nick to go and put it on and try it out? And then to take it into the studio and make music with it? She’s just met this guy, for crying out loud. There are all these trust issues between them, and she hands him a guitar worth millions?

And the tape recording their little tryst on the couch… same thing as with Caroline and the phone. It took away from the beauty of the story, which was these two kids learning to let go, to rise above, and to reach for the possibilities of what lies ahead.

Which means I really missed the book’s scene in the Marriott. There was so much more to that scene than to its replacement, the one in Electric Lady. (Not to mention the subtext introduced by the scene happening in the building Daddy owns and is famous for.) It was a real moment of growth for Norah. We lost all of that, only to be given that horrible sight of the soundboard, recording away. That, too, introduced themes and ideas that don’t belong in this story of newfound love.

One last rant: Nick had a cruel streak to him that, in the book, had belonged to Norah’s boyfriend. It didn’t work for Nick to call Norah frigid. In fact, it made me want her to slug him and walk away, playlist suddenly and inalterably finite.

A lot of the reviews of the book mention the issue of the language. You guys know the word FUCK doesn’t bother me in the least. It didn’t bother me in the book. To me, it helped create atmosphere and authenticity. The sad part is that these critics (as many do with Fat Kid Rules the World, which you know is one of my all-time favorite books) are allowing something so simple to obscure their view of a truly beautiful story.

Stick to the book, folks.

Oh, just go over to LA Stylist Mom. She found ’em.

If I had these, I’d wear them non-stop. With wool socks to mitigate that sweaty feet factor.

Now, go buy some books so I can afford them, will ya?

So if you saw my Thursday Thirteen this week, you saw me venting about how much trouble I was having getting the formatting for Trevor’s Song down.

Ha.

I vanquished that evil Microsoft Word this morning. All by myself, which is quite a telling feat. I’ve got another proof copy of the book on order, and now it’s a question of whether or not we were able to get the cover art to pop as much as we’d like.

Know what that means?

I just might hit my self-imposed deadline of July 1 yet.

Pricing and stuff will be available soon. I’ll announce it first at the fan page at Facebook, so if you’re not a fan, head on over there and like me.

And if you haven’t read the Demo Tapes (either of them) yet, now’s the time to pick them up and start reading. It won’t take long; they are perfect for summer reads by the pool … so long as you don’t mind when people stare at you funny for laughing out loud. And if you need an autographed copy or two, I’ve still got some here…

MEU?? What the heck?

It’s one of the (many) reasons I’ve been quieter than usual over here. I’m busy getting Trevor’s Song ready to bring you guys, and it’s being a TOTAL PITA. Trevor would be proud of the chaos he’s causing except he’s as anxious to be putty in your hands as you guys are anxious to read his story.

My head is bloody from beating it on my desk. And keyboard. And monitor. And I’ve gone through a few replacement windows, as I’ve thrown things (well, books written by other people) through them. Cut my feet on the glass shards, too, when I’ve gone out into the front yard to retrieve the books. It’s been rainy so far this summer break (all week of it). I can’t let a book get ruined!

And now I’m the official MEU.

Mom Entertainment Unit.

I don’t mind. We’re having fun. But I’m not getting much work done.

Still, you gotta live life in order to be able to write what you know. Books about me staring at glowing computer screens would be dreadfully boring. Trust me. Living it is dreadfully boring.

so…

Thirteen ways I’m the MEU
1. I’ve got The Boy Band joining me in the first-ever biathlon at the Hoity Toity Health Club. In the past, they’ve sponsored a summer triathlon, where you have one month to complete Ironman distances in the run, swim, and bike. This year, they’ve added a biathlon for us non-swimmers (that pool water might turn my hair green, don’tcha know) and shortened the distances. My progress is often my Facebook status, so be sure to keep an eye on me.

2. POOL! We challenged the weather today and won — severe storms were forecast and there were some ugly, dark, heavy clouds overhead, but they didn’t last long.

3. Wii/computer games. ‘Nuff said there.

4. Netflix, TiVo and other televised goodies. Again, ’nuff said there. Fortunately, these last two allow me to actually get a bit of work done.

5. Friends. This is the bane of summertime. Friends scatter. People travel, go to camp, hang out in the neighborhood. Finding friends to occupy my kids’ time is difficult.

6. Funnel Cake. I couldn’t make Burgh Baby‘s funnel cake party, but she was kind enough to share the recipe anyway. This is on our to-do list still, while I wait for my arm to heal.

7. Make Candy. One of my sisters bought The Boy Band a candy making kit for his birthday a few years ago. We’re still experimenting. Like the funnel cake, this is currently on hold while I heal.

8. Rainy day fun: Science Center.

9. mini-golf. Imagine my surprise this weekend past when the quiet, mild-mannered grandmother schooled all of us (except in deference to my poor arm, I didn’t play).

10. Play places! Yeah, like Dave and Busters, but also the places aimed for the kids, with ball pits and climbing tunnels. You know: like Chuck E. Cheese. Where a kid can be a kid.

11. bike riding. You guys know me. If not, see above and the biathlon. ‘Nuff said. Except… I’ve seen enough snakes this year. Including the one the Boy Band rode over on our last outing. Gross, the way the snake tumbled out from under his wheel. Survived, too. That was the cool part.

12. hiking. There are enough parks of the state, local, and national variety (don’t ask where the latter are; I’m not sure. Shush!) to keep us occupied for awhile.

13. I’m sure they’ll cook up something by the time I blink next… Feel free to add your own. Some days, I need the inspiration.

Calgon, take me away!

So I’ve been neglecting you guys over here. It’s not personal, believe me.

Last Tuesday, I thought I’d hyper-extended my elbow. No real biggie; I’ve got really loose ligaments (which is why going to the gym is so vital; it’s what holds me together!), but a visit today with the sports med doctor I adore didn’t go so hot.

It’s not a hyper-extension. It’s a mild dislocation, and I’ve been doing it repeatedly since February, when I went out and shoveled all that snow we got here in the Western side of Mars. And… there might be some serious ligament damage after last week’s stunt.

I’m supposed to head out to the Lori Foster weekend tomorrow, but I can’t spend five hours outside of my spiffy new sling. I mean, I CAN. I just got the sling, after all, so it’s not like I haven’t been toughing it out. But it HURTS, guys. It’s not worth the five hour drive and the pain that it’ll bring. Not when the sling helps so nicely…

So that’s the saga. More as I know it, which will be next week, in fact, when they take a better, deeper look inside. It might be a summer of not so many posts around here, but let’s deal with that hurdle when we get to it…

The last post was getting too long, so here’s more…

Best Yo-yo adventures: So I ran into Alex Glass while drooling over Jenny Bent‘s iPad. This was first thing Friday morning. He didn’t know the way to the elevators that would take him to the third floor for his first pitch session. So I walked him over. Chatted with him.

I left him at the elevator and went to hear Jenny’s way cool panel on contracts. At the end, as I was about to run to my room and get the goodie bag for Jennifer Jackson, I heard Jenny say she didn’t know where she was headed, since she had to pitch. I told her to wait for me while I ran and got the goodie bag. Then I walked Jenny up to the pitch rooms.

That was trip two.

I came downstairs, intending to find Alex’s panel on literary fiction. Only, I charged right past the room and was headed toward the hospitality suite when I noticed a very unassuming looking woman. I confessed I had missed the room my panel was in. She said she was lost: she needed to get upstairs for pitch sessions.

What the hell, I figured. I’ve already only been to that elevator twice and it’s not like I know where I’m going anyway. So I told this woman I’d show her to the elevators.

As we were walking, it dawned on me that I ought to be polite and ask her who she was pitching to. She said she wasn’t pitching. “Oh, so you’re keeping time?”

She said, “Nooo…. There’s a third job up there.”

I counted on my fingers. Couldn’t think of the third job. She knew she had me, but when I told her I was stumped, she was almost embarrassed to admit she was an agent. My mind went EVEN BLANKER, if that’s possible.

Now remember, I’d met Alex and Jenny and Jennifer already. That meant this was … oh, SHIT. The woman I’d been Twittering with about her stuffed octopus the past two days.

She was even more abashed to say her name (Janet Reid, if you haven’t guessed), but as soon as she did, she saw my jaw drop and she knew we knew each other. “I’m Susan Gottfried, of West of Mars,” I said.

We laughed the whole way up the elevator. In the chaos of the hallway, I presented Janet loudly (hey, it was a bit after 10:30 in the morning. You should be awake by then!) and took off running.

And found Alex’s panel, where I became quite the question-asker, to the point he asked ME if I was on the Pennwriters staff or something, because I was keeping things moving.

The point of all this? Don’t EVER be shy about walking up to people and engaging them in conversation. You never know who you’ll be talking to.

.
.
Most gratifying moment: stealing a quiet moment with Janet and giving her the formal invite to return to our conference next year in Pittsburgh — and hearing how impressed she was with the entire group. Professional, polished, with great ideas and ready to go forward toward success. When someone like Janet Reid says that, you know it’s real. She’s a bit … stingy with her praise.

The I Can’t Believe I Did it moment: Seeing that Alex Glass had no intentions of handing the cordless mic to Janet and jumping out of my moderator’s chair, swiping the mic, and running it to the other end of the table to hand off. Don’t tell my sports med guy about the short sprint, okay?

The She did NOT just say that moment: dinner with Janet and the rest of the Mary Roberts Rinehart Sisters in Crime. Janet said something I won’t repeat. And something else I won’t repeat.

In fact, I am carrying a lot of secrets home from this conference. Don’t ask what they are. I’m not spilling.

Now, about my Sisters in Crime group: These ladies were every bit as cool as I knew they would be. Having not just one but two (I made Jennifer join us, as well) top literary agents join us for dinner would be enough to make even a cucumber lose its cool. These ladies in my chapter are NOT vegetables, boys and girls.

And a special shout-out to Joyce for extending the initial invite to Janet. She got there first. I just refused to accept that Janet wouldn’t join us.

The Moment I went Fangirl: While looking up Jennifer Jackson’s web address to link to it, I realized one of her clients is the Tour Manager’s favorite writer.

The One I Pulled on Jennifer: Telling her the Tour Manager’s real name. He shares a name with a famous dude (who she knows, which I expected) instantly. Her face was priceless.

The Hey, You Didn’t Have to do that, but Thanks! Award goes to Leis Pederson and David Pomerico, both of whom excused themselves from other conversations to tell me they appreciated the job I’d done as moderator of the editor’s panel. THAT alone would have made my weekend, without all the other stuff.

The This May Not Come Off as Intended Experience: I was laughing that after that intro to Jenny, Alex, and Janet, I kept an eye on them, as well as on Jennifer (who proclaimed me a most excellent stalker, I might add). Even though Alex, Jenny, and Janet had their own conference-goers to keep an eye on them, I seemed to be doing a lot of it.

Which was fine. What wasn’t fine was any implication anyone may read into it that the other three volunteers weren’t up to snuff. SO not true. Those three agents … they just needed a bit of extra extra attention and I found that with my background in the music biz (at least the radio, stage crew and promotion parts), keeping half an eye on the talent comes second nature. Besides, when the talent pulls a proverbial Spinal Tap and can’t find the proverbial stage, it makes the organization look bad. I’ll gladly chip in to help keep the Pennwriters organization as stellar (or better) than it already is.

And if you follow Janet’s Tweets, you may have seen this one: @WestofMars I’m attaching myself to you for PennWriters 2011 conference!

Again, the other PennPals were great. But you know what? They are there to attend the conference, themselves. To go to panels and mix with other writers. I mean, so am I, but you guys know me. Spending the whole time hanging out and chatting would have been every bit as fine as attending the panels (and that’s saying a LOT. I did not think a single one was anything less than great. Although I wish Ramona had had more time to really get into the meat of short stories.).

So. Onward to 2011, May 12 through 14 in Pittsburgh.

I KNOW you’re not surprised to hear I’ve already volunteered to run the PennPal program for next year. Go figure.

I’m starting this post as I’m waiting to head out to breakfast on Saturday morning. I figured I’d start writing down what I’m taking in:

The biggest light bulb moment of the day: Agent Jennifer Jackson telling me that the covers of the Demo Tapes are great, but they don’t tell her what the book’s about.

(Just wait until you guys see the cover for Trevor’s Song. There will be NO DOUBT what that book is about.)

Jennifer’s comment reminded me of the genesis of The Demo Tapes. That I’d intended for it to be a strictly vanity thing, and it was you guys who asked for an ISBN and started setting up book tours and the like for me. But clearly, choices made for one reason aren’t helping to further my cause.

Biggest But…. but…. but … Moment: Talking with Emmanuelle Alspaugh of the Judith Ehrlich agency, who I also really liked. I asked if the plot of what I’m working on was marketable, or if I am still too left-of-center to expect commercial publication. She focused on the setting. Fictional cities, even ones as kick-ass as Riverview, aren’t hot right now, she said. I either need to take the story urban fantasy or move to a real city.

But… what about the PLOT???

Yeah, I’m cautious. Spell it out or I have trouble believing it’s okay.

Most pleasant surprise: Hearing Jenny Bent, Alex Glass, Janet Reid, and Jennifer Jackson say they’ll sign authors who have self-pubbed. They are totally open to it. Jennifer even said the fact that I’m making money with The Demo Tapes is a huge bonus. (But you should still buy more copies and keep spreading the word, okay? The more, the better!)

Biggest shocker: How much fun I’m having getting to know Janet Reid, Jennifer Jackson, Jenny Bent, and Alex Glass. These are all people I could be friends with if I lived in New York and worked in publishing. They don’t just know their stuff, they have given me an insight into what it REALLY means to be an agent.

I mean, think about it. They have big client lists. Clients who need stuff — and who don’t operate on regular 9 to 5, Monday through Friday schedules. And yet they give up a weekend to come talk to people (some of whom are quite clueless, although well-meaning) and educate people about the publishing industry. They don’t NEED to do this, boys and girls. Not THIS group. We’re talking about agents who are at the top of their game.

Their kindness, their giving, and their heart is something else. If you think all agents do is sign people to contracts and sell their books, you are SO WRONG.

Best I Should be Dying but Instead, I’m Eating This Up Moment: When Janet Reid started picking on me during her social networking panel. Every last person in the room turned to see who the cut-up in back was. Worst of all for my defense, I had pulled my chair out into the center aisle, the better to see Janet. I smiled, waved, and fought the urge to say, “I’m @WestofMars. Come follow me and buy my books!” Seriously. I ate it up.

Best meal I Ever Paid For: Sharing a plate of nachos with Jennifer Jackson and hearing HER take on both the bad agent I wasted five years with (back before you could research agents on the web and had this great writerly support. Yes, I’ve been doing this THIS long) as well as the agent who offered representation two years ago and promptly vanished. Janet agreed about the Disappearing Agent. Alex and Jenny heard the story of the Five Year Waster and absolved me of that crime, too.

Most charming woman on the planet: Ramona Long. You may remember her from the famed B&B flood in Confluence, PA. If not, you’re missing out. The more time I spend with Ramona, the better.

Best Jaw-dropping Moment: when CJ Lyons said Erin Brockovich wanted HER to co-write some books. Yay, CJ! (who is also a nice and amazing person on her own. Very warm — just the type of doctor you want when you take your kids to the ER.)

I can go on and on. But… I’ve got breakfast to get to (It’s now Sunday morning) and a long drive ahead of me and intentions, intentions, intentions. I need to act on them. So I’ll let you all digest this. Trust that I’ve learned even more than I arrived here knowing, so stick around and I’ll share the wisdom.

Last March, when I went away with a bunch of writers to Confluence, PA, we got flooded INTO the B&B we’d rented out. It was quite the adventure.

Tomorrow — that’d be Thursday, for those of you stopping by after today, which is Wednesday, or who are in different time zones — I’m heading out to the hopping town of Lancaster, PA, for the Pennwriters Conference.

I’m hoping to spend some time chatting with Pam Jenoff, whose first two books my book club and I read and really liked.

I’ll be hanging with my roomie, fellow author Holly Christine.

I’ll be pampering Jennifer Jackson, introducing Ramona Long‘s short story workshop (which goes over really well when you’re flooded into a B&B, I’d like to add), trying to keep from throwing Janet Reid‘s octopus at any TV foolish enough to show a Red Wings game. I’ll also be introducing two other panels, and keeping time for pitch sessions.

I’m also planning to break some rules. Business casual dress? Ha. I’m the rock and roll author. I dress the part when not sitting behind my computer. And I’ll be pitching a book idea — not to see if the agent I’ll be facing down will want to represent it so much as to see if my plot ideas remain too off-center for the mainstream world of published books.

But there’s more! More in the form of postcards with a big old West of Mars on the front. Postcards with coupon codes for 50% off Smashwords downloads on the back. (Those are actually two different postcards. Ha. I’m the postcard queen.)

And a heck of a lot more I have yet to discover. I’m still debating what to wear to the masquerade ball, after all. (The temptation to be a Normal Person is strong. I have the perfect shirt!)

So… don’t expect to see much of me around these parts, even though I’ll be bringing my laptop (and a flash drive, loaded with lots of fiction I fully expect to never touch. Call it my security blanket, why don’tcha).

Hold the fort down for me. Go like my fan pages at Facebook. Add me to your Google Friends thingie-ma-bob. In short, help spread the Trevolution. This is the perfect time to do it… I hear talk of the novel that started it all. Something about cover art and then it’ll be on its way to your greedy little hands…

Well, drat. It’s been 24 hours or so since I came across an apparently not-as-new-as-I-thought line of rock and roll clothing. And in that time, I’ve managed to completely space on who was kind enough to point me in this direction. (Okay, it’s now been a few months after I started this post. Still spaced.)

I suspect either Blabbermouth or Brave Words. Maybe Metal Sucks. You know: my usual haunts for all news rock and roll.

Anyway, this is DirtBag. Yes, that’s the name of the company. As soon as I got to the page, I was in love. I mean, hello? That’s Phil Demmel on the front page. Phil Demmel of Machine Head, formerly of Vio-lence.

Phil Demmel, who I had a small crush on back in my radio station days. Never did anything more than sigh at the man, and never regretted my lack of action, either. I mean, heck. I got the Tour Manager! Who needs Phil Demmel when she can have a Tour Manager???? (Mrs. Phil may not agree, if there is a Mrs. Phil, but hey. I saved her man for her. Look at it that way.)

Back to the clothes. So far, these Dirt Bag folk have got the requisite tight clothes for super skinny girls and not much for us moms of two who have sort of made peace with being a bit curvier but who are finding it easier than ever to rock out. *sigh*

Bummer because I want the t-shirt with the wings on it. I never really wanted to be an angel, but to have wings? Up to now, I’d figured the only way to have wings would be to attach a set for a Fairy Ball at the Romantic Times convention or something.

With this shirt, I could have my wings AND be the cool metal chick you guys expect to see ogling the fairies at the Fairy Ball.

I’m off to diet (’cause I biked over 10 miles today and am I less curvy? Hell no. But my calves are… strong). And the DirtBag folk? As always when I find great clothes, my offer remains: you give me free clothes and I’ll make sure I get in front of cameras with those clothes on. Maybe even a pro’s camera when it’s time to take those fancy-schmancy author pictures.

Man, my books would look awfully good poking out of one of those messenger bags, too. Know that????

C’mon, DirtBag people. Who needs to sponsor bands when you can sponsor a WRITER???

(yes, typing that last line made ME snort with some form of fake laughter. Why do you ask?)