Showing posts from September, 2009

Housekeeping Miscellany

Today is not Word Nerd Wednesday. My sincere apologies.
Instead, a few housekeeping duties:
First, an announcement. In a wild attempt to meet a major deadline, I'll be absent from blogland, Facebook, Twitter, and pretty much all of the Internet except for some minor e-mail checking here and there for the next couple of weeks.
I hope I survive.

Second, well, another announcement. On Thursday (that would be tomorrow), September 24, I'll be speaking at The Book Academy, a new writing conference sponsored by Utah Valley University.
Check out their site for more information and how to register HERE. (I'm speaking during the 10:10 breakout workshops. The conference bookstore will have copies of There, Their, They're available for purchase).

Third, I've been horribly remiss in acknowledging two bloggy awards I received some time ago.
Time to rectify the matter.
The first was from Amber Lynae:

The second was from Chas Hathaway:

Aren't those rockin' awesome?! Thanks to bo…

My Clock Obsession: This One's For You, Hon

See, I have this problem.
Rather, I don't see it as a problem. The whole thing makes sense to me in my own little crazy wonderland. But five other people in this house have to live with it. The kids just have to suck it up; they're the kids, so they just have to deal with it. But it's a little harder to do that when you're an adult.
Like, oh, a husband.
Here's the thing: My poor man never knows what time it really is.
I don't recall exactly which recent event prompted the comment (I think it had something to do with setting my alarm earlier to reflect a different time for my snooze but not adjusting the actual clock time). It was something crazy and illogical but made perfect sense to me in a bizarro world kind of way when it was late and I was tired.
In a fit of laughter, he called out, "blog post!"
He was spot on; if he had a personal blog (which he doesn't), it would have made great fodder with which to mock me (which I know he wouldn't have)…

Writing Journey: Part XXVIII

Terrified over the idea of doing something so far out of my comfort zone as a cookbook (talk about getting out of your box . . . I couldn't even SEE my box at this point, I was so far out of it!), I debated. Could I do this?
Several questions bounced around in my head.
First off, was if it even feasible for me to do a chocolate cookbook on my own?
If so, what kind of angle would I take on it?
And if I managed to pull this whole thing off, could I get Covenant a manuscript as fast as they wanted it?

First things first, I decided.
I really couldn't think about it at all until after the blog tour for Tower of Strength and the LDStorymakers conference and Whitney Awards gala were all over. (Oh, yeah, and ironing out that little grammar book . . .) I just didn't have the brain power or the time to devote to yet one more thing right away.
But as soon as the dust cleared from the conference, I gave the cookbook some thought, and realized a few things.
The most important one was this:

WNW: Seinfeld Speak

I don't think there's ever been a television show that has had the same social and linguistic impact on English and our culture as Seinfeld. Even though there hasn't been a new episode since 1998, it's still in reruns, and my kids enjoy it (well, most episodes . . . some they aren't allowed see . . .).
Over a decade after the finale, Seinfeld's influence lives on in big ways. Part of that is the fact that the show, which was supposedly about "nothing," was really about everyday life, so there is almost no event that you can't find a Seinfeld episode to relate it to.
Recently, my husband was talking to some coworkers and referred to something as "Seinfeld-esque."
They knew exactly what he meant: something with threads that interconnect in a complex and unexpected way, often at the end, but may have been connected early on and you didn't know it.
He didn't say all that. He just said, "Seinfeld-esque." And they knew exactly w…

Kicking Butt on "Cat's in the Cradle"

As far as I can tell, I might be the only person on the planet who absolutely detests this song. If you're unsure which song I mean, you can listen to it below. For me, hearing just the first few notes alone makes me nauseated, so I won't be playing it, but feel free to listen to the whole ugly thing if you want to:

Fair warning: if you love this song, stop now. Don't read this post, because I'll probably ruin the song for you forever. Seriously, stop reading right now if you have fond feelings for it.
Still here? Okay . . . you've been warned. I heard it at the grocery store the other day, gripped the cart harder, and I think my lip turned up in a snarl. Blog it! came to mind, so you can thank Albertson's for today's post (and my overly loud opinions) for the chance to get it off my chest once and for all.
So many people think "Cat's in the Cradle" is such a great, nostalgic piece, a song that not only has a simple, wonderful tune with clever ly…

Writing Journey: Part XXVII

(Above, left to right, the "chocolate" sisters: Me, Michelle, and Mel. Photo by Jolley Photography.)
Mel's "fun" idea that she had while driving north on I-15 through the desert on her way from Arizona to Utah was about what kind of business she would like to do.
She'd been a caterer, done the whole dip the chocolate strawberries and make the wedding cake yourself thing.
She'd done event production, such as with receptions for businesses and the like (think Jennifer Lopez in The Wedding Planner, the gal with the headset running the show).
As Mel drove on the open road, she thought that while she enjoyed the catering side, she liked the production end more. Hmm. Ideally, if she could produce any kind of event, what would she produce?
An event centered on chocolate. But what would that be?
By the time she reached Provo, the embryo of an idea had grown. It evolved into what eventually became the The Utah Chocolate Show, first debuting in 2004.
First we took a …

WNW: "Then" Help

Reader question day here on Word Nerd Wednesday.

UPDATE: I originally wrote this post on a headache brain. Hence, I used the term contraction when I meant conjunction. (Yeah, I know. DUH. Like those two things are anything like one another.) Thanks a million to the alert reader who pointed it out so I could fix it and not look like a total idiot into the eternities.
I was recently asked something akin to the following (rephrased since I didn't get around to asking to use it . . . but I'm just going with it, because it's what I have in my head right now, and I'm guessing there are more people out there who have the same question . . .)

According to some advice I have received in the past, I should technically NOT write a sentence like this:

I tripped on the sidewalk, then dropped my keys.

My question is about the ", then" part.

This is all over literature. Good literature, too.

[The questioner went on to list several bestsellers, including a recent award winner]

So wh…