oh dear.

lemming courtesy of kathlaw



You are a complete literary geek, from knowing the
classics (even the not-so-well-known classics
and tidbits about them) to knowing devices used
in writing, when someone has a question about
literature, they can bring it to you and rest
assured; you know the answers.


How much of a literary geek are you?
brought to you by Quizilla


I'll admit it, I'm somewhat taken aback. Who knew? (no sarcasm there -- I consider myself woefully undereducated in the classics)


As an amusing aside, the question "Approximately how many books (excluding novellas and young adult books) do you finish in a week?" immediately had me responding "in a week? *pause* Oh. You meant read in a week! Nevermind, I can answer that..."

more oh dear.

Lemming courtesy of shayheyred

*hic* and oh so true. Well, the drinking neat and brand loyalty parts, anyway. I leave the rest up for others to decide. *innocent blink*


Virgo Style:
cerebral Virgos are compelled to impose onto their
bender. Their famously fussy quest for purity
could lead to drinking less than other signs,
sure -- but it could also lead to drinking
booze neat, to sucking down organic wine or
just to brand loyalty. They rarely get sully
shellacked -- but oh! when they do! Virgo's
controlled by the intellect, but there's an
unbridled beast lurking within, and they let it
loose when walloped. It's dead sexy (and
suprisingly unsloppy). As every virgo friend
should declare, 'I'm going to drink myself into
a low level of inteligence tonight' a toast to
the subgenuis IQ


Alcohoroscopes MRK 2- the stars and your drinking style
brought to you by Quizilla


(note: I couldn't help it, I corrected some of the errors in the form. Proof, were it needed, that I am indeed a Virgo...)

Various, meet Sundry (the weekend remix)

Saturday was strange. I was convinced it was Sunday. This led to many somewhat surreal conversations. But despite all that, chores were done (we have a new universal remote! And I was able to program all seven various bits of home theater system into it! Yay me!) and I managed to get some writing done on Retrievers #2.

Also got to see the mocked up promotional postcard two friends and I are doing for our books (Keith DeCandido's Dragon Precinct and Jay Caselberg's Metal Sky). Jay got the best cover. We hates him, my precious, we does. Buy all three, get a specially signed postcard to hug and squeeze and call George. Or, well, not.

(Which reminds me, if anyone here wants to get on my mailing list for Updates and News for when new projects are published, just send me an e-mail to wrensergei at lycos dot com.)

Moving along to Sunday...

I woke up at 1:30 this morning because of four short car horn bursts, which I was for some reason certain were coming from our cars. So I went downstairs to check on the garage. Both cars there. Clearly it was someone on the street wanting an irate parent to come out and smash their headlights. Or was that my adolesence? Sometimes it all blurs, especially at 1:30 Sunday morning.

After giving up on the hapless moron with the car horn, I went back to sleep, and then got up at moderately early o'clock and drove my folks' car into the city (they leave it with us in the winter, because who needs to deal with finding parking in Manhattan when it snows, much less the rest of the time?). Discussed writing with my mom for a bit (she had asked me to crit one of her stories) and then I took the crosstown bus over to the East Side, where I met up with fgwriter, who was in town for an orgy of theatergoing, and shayheyred and menikoff (Hope I got those names spelled right.. y'all know me and spelling).

And lo, brunch was consumed, and conversation was had, and yes, the discussion
of fandom, fanfic, and smut occurred, pretty much in that order. Also the joys and perils of having Jewish grandmothers/great-aunts, random politics, some more discussion of sex ("arrowing up? The author really described it as..." "Yeah." *Much wincing*) and many other topics.

A good time was had by all. Or at least us. I can't speak for our poor waiter.

And then home on the bus, wherein I was struck by an idea for a YA trilogy, which has been put on a chair and pacified with sweets until such a time as I can get back to it. And then we took Darcy in to the body shop, from whence with luck and no small $$ he will return to us on Wednesday all shiny and new and (fingers crossed) all the paint matching.

And then made an off-the-top-of-my-head chicken dinner (chicken breasts, on the bone, with orange juice, lemon, flour and curry powder basting sauce) with wild rice and salad, and a pretty little Zinfandel to go with it.

And that was my day off. Tonight, back into the salt mines. Mmmmm...Salt. Yummy....