It's Dog Eat Dog Book World

They're calling it the "dogoir." It's the latest craze to hit the publishing circuit. Books "written" by dogs. They'e actually making the bestseller list. I can't say I'm the least bit disturbed by this phenomena. As you may have concluded by now, I'm a huge fan of our four-legged friends. Stories like the one about that rascal Marley and the one about the dog who became attached to a Marine who then got deployed and the mutt traveled for days and days until he found the man in the middle of the desert.

I can't get enough of those tales about how dogs have been the ones to save their owners from some seizure that was likely to have taken their life.

Okay so then what?

I love my dear little pup. But she hasn't really given me much in the way of a fresh plot. Now, I could stretch the truth; make up some little ditty about how my prized pet can answer the phone or push the vacuum or something equally noteworthy. But to be honest she hasn't barked out a snappy holiday tune. She can't manage to hold a pen in her paws or manipulate a keyboard.
(She plays a mean game of soccer though.)
I will simply say that having her in my life has made the whole thing bearable. Brighter. Sweeter, kinder.

And I promised myself I wouldn't get all gooey. Doggone it.

Love ISN'T All You Need.

When the oldest kid phoned from college last week she opened with, "Guess what?"
If you aren't a parent, allow me to enlighten. The answer to that question is almost never good.
Seemed as if she found a teeny tiny kitten and decided to play foster mom.
If you've never been on the other side of that scenario allow me to enlighten. The outcome is almost never good.
You see, we have a small somewhat neurotic pup who pretty much owns this place we call home.
Leaves blowing in the wind tend to freak her out. Need I say more?
I knew my daughter was going to fall head over heels over head, tumbling in love like Jill down that hill. It was basic math. 1 Terminally Cute Kitty + Just About Anyone = Tru Luv 4 eva.
As much as I hated to be the one to bring the party down, I had to. It's not the right time for us to add another branch to our family tree. And pets cost money, i.e. - vets visits, food and paraphernalia.
Please don't get me wrong. I LOVE me some animals.
If I had a bigger house and budget I'd invite them all to drop by and hang a while. But I don't.
Lucky for me, my firstborn is a level headed kid. With only months to go before she graduates she knew she would be a little busy in the coming weeks.
She reluctantly found another home for the unofficial cutest kitten on the face of the earth.
I am pleased to report that Roo (yep she named it) is doing very well.
Lesson here? Love isn't really all you need. Sorry to disagree with those nice boys from England.
And now I return to life as I knew it with another crisis averted. Phew.

The Antics & Angst of Author X

So she and I went to lunch this past weekend. She updated me on her stats. Her face had doom and gloom written all over it.

Author X is convinced it's "never going to happen for me in this or any other lifetime."

Even though she's had two requests for her full manuscript.

"Rejection is my middle name. I must have really pissed somebody off in the karma world," she informed me.

There's a new list of rituals. She claims they are helping deal with the frustration.

Munching on pencils until her teeth hurt.

Positive mental affirmations most of which sound like this:

I love my writing even if nobody else does.

Wearing two different color socks. (I'm still not sure what purpose this serves.)

Researching new agents.

Stalking agents with her material on Twitter.

The Revenge Query.

I did my best to assure her that she's not in this alone. Every single writer knows exactly what she's feeling.

Heck - I know exactly what she's feeling.

In fact, her experience is too close for comfort. I sit patiently waiting for the release of my first novel, pondering what 2011 will have in store for me. My second novel is about ready to roll and I'm plotting the third. When I really start think about it it's practically unnerving.

What's a girl to do?

Pencil anyone?