Sorry for being late today. I had a neurology appointment for another round of shots in my neck. The happy news is that the migraines are definitely caused by my neck-issues. The bad news is, my neck is jacked up bad and hates me. A lot. Arthritis in the neck isn't a whole lot of fun, y'all. I don't recommend it--particularly if you write for a living. Back to the important stuff. Friday rambling. :)

I know, I know. Dirty Dancing is so...wonderbread[1], but it's my sister's favorite movie, and I felt like indulging her today. (I love you, Cathie!) Me, I have a lot of favorite movies and quite a few are of questionable quality. (Nothing as bad as WolfCop, thank you Dane-my-husband-I-adore-but-sometimes-wonder-about.[2])

I can't make too much fun of him. He did do something glorious and buy me Stevie Nicks/Pretenders tickets for my birthday. (Pssst. It's not until the end of the month, y'all.) They're two of my favorites from the '70s/'80s. I haven't seen Stevie since the Wild Heart tour[3], and I never did get a chance to see Chrissie Hynde live. So, yeah. I'm happy. Add to that, my friend Katie splurged on a "Stevie Nicks for President" and a "Witch" pin from this shop. Because Katie is amazing. So, I'm very much looking forward to this weekend. Dane has promised me a shirt and everything. Ha!

I hope your weekend is a good one. I shall be spending it with Blackthorne,[4] coffee, Stevie, and Chrissie.

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[1] Like whitebread but far more artificial and bland. Of course, I enjoy far worse movies. Seriously. Let's take Big Trouble in Little China for example. Oh, boy. The racism. But I love that movie to death. I do. I can't help myself even though it's the corniest movie on top of the racism. And just like she had a crush on Patrick Swayze, I've had a thing for Kurt Russell. (Maybe not the Jack Burton, Kurt Russell, but definitely Kurt Russell.)  So, I can't exactly point fingers, you know?
[2] Actually, WolfCop isn't his fave. I just love to tease him for having watched it at all. Because...Are you fucking kidding me? LOL
[3] I know, I know. I am officially OLD. Us Gen-Xers are becoming geezers. Still, CHRISSIE HYNDE and STEVIE NICKS. Yeah!
​[4] Page proofs, bay-bee! Yeah!

Good morning, y'all! Are you ready for some righteous rage to start your morning? Let's do this thing!

Today's video:

When my first novel came out, I was asked an interview question that implied that I had somehow invented Magical Realism. (I wish I was making that up.) This is the reason why I made a point to answer the question giving credit to the Latin American authors who had created the movement in 1933. Fortunately, I was only asked that question a handful of times, but yes, cultural appropriation is an issue in literature, not just fashion.

Just like sexism affects men negatively (in that any feminine trait in a male is ruthlessly repressed) racism affects all women regardless of race through racist standards of beauty. White women aren't always the most appropriate people to address all issues about racism. (Just as white men aren't always the most appropriate people to address sexism.) But not doing so at all contributes to the support of systemic racism. So, there you are. It's complicated like so many of humanity's problems.

After spending some time in the future, I'm now time-traveling to the late 1700s again for a couple of weeks. I got page proofs for Blackthorne yesterday. OMG, the layout and typography are gorgeous. The folks at Saga did a magnificent job. Seriously, I wish you could see this. At the same time, I'm getting the heebie-jeebies. It's part of the publishing process: this fear. I know I've taken risks when this is how I feel upon watching it inch toward publication. Risk-taking is my job, I know, but it doesn't make it any less scary. Gods, I hope y'all like it. It contains murder mystery/crime, politics, adventure, tall ships, guerilla warfare, and some horror. All mixed together. This one is dark--much darker than Cold Iron. Suvi, Nels (and Viktor,) and Ilta are present, but there are new characters too. Dylan and Dar get more screen-time. (I very much enjoyed writing about those two.) And...and...there's so much that turned out right with this one. I'm excited...and terrified all at once.

That's how it goes. We'll see. Anyway, I've so much work to do. The page-proofs for Blackthorne, finishing a novel, and writing/rewriting two short-stories. It's a lot for me. So, I'll probably be scarce on Twitter and FB for a while. It's for the best, really. I don't need to get embroiled in debates. (Although, holy crap, Republicans. Really? You honestly don't give a crap about hypocrisy? Really? You really have no sense of irony at all? I mean, what the hell do you say to someone who is that intent on being the one who is right at all times? Who is that tied to believing they can do no wrong? [sigh] I mean, we get it. It was never about HRC's emails. Not ever. It was about HRC. It was personal. Period. We get that. But either perjury is a crime with a prison sentence or it isn't. I'm sick to fucking death of your exceptionalism.)

Anyway, I'm off to check my manuscript. I hope your weekend is a good one!

Today, I thought I'd indulge a little in things I think are inspiring, creative, and well... pretty. Sometimes, it's fun to look around at what's out there. First, I'm a big Stevie Nicks fan. Have been since I was in 6th grade. This is my favorite image of her. I suspect it's from the Fleetwood Mac Rumors photo shoot. 

Music is a big factor in my life. There are songs that are the soundtrack to important events in my life. I generally pay attention to whatever is playing on the radio while things are going on. For example, today I made plans to see a friend regularly, and while we were talking Cyndi Lauper's Girls Just Wanna Have Fun popped on the restaurant radio. I see that as a good sign. ;) My music tastes run all over the place. (But definitely not Country Music. Bleh.) At the moment I'm going through a Leftfield kick. I was into them in 1999-2000s and I've just come back around to it recently. It's great stuff for writing SF, if you ask me.