A Princess, teh Bunneh and Goblin Ninjas. On fire.

Archive for July, 2009

My Blog is One Year Old Today

My little blog is one year old today.

I’ve learned a lot, picked up a blog harem, made a few mistakes, but persistence pays off. Every now and then, someone will query on “Anthony Pacheco Hack Writer”, and that will take him or her to… (wait for it)… ME!

If it is one thing I am appreciative of, is the friends I have made that have stuck to this online gig. I’ve had blogs I’ve followed where the authors stopped blogging.

And I felt loss. I never met them, but I missed them. And still do.

Please, don’t go.

Because I will cry.

So many fellow blogger people to thank and appreciate, I’ll just babble:

Kiersten: Kiersten is such a regular reader of my blog I call her Fiber Kiersten! Wait, that didn’t come out right. Opps, that didn’t sound right either.

I never had a little sister. But if I did, I would want her to be like Kiersten. I wuv ewe Kiersten!

And I really really want to read her books. So, you publisher people you, buy her books!

J.C. Heart:  Her daughter is the Cutest. Baby. Ever. I love to just check in and read her blog. And if J.C. can squirt out a baby and keep writing, we all have no excuses to stop.

Alex Moore: We all knew of her writing talents and she was eventually outed as a beautiful woman. I only wish she posted more! And she occasionally sends me gun porn. How cool is that? I will tell you how cool. It’s WAY COOL.

B J Keltz: One of the most generous souls out there.

Courtney Summers: man I love Courtney’s writing, and she’s such a nice person.

Gary Corby: Gary is a classic literary pusher. The blog posts are always free. If you want the book, well, you have to wait. I have a severe case of Book Lust going here, which almost dives into “stalker” territory.

Larry Correia: A writer who dives into the political rant, Larry so gets his audience. Larry is spooky that way. Larry is going places.

Mornara’s Weblog: Joe, or whatever she is calling herself this month (heeee) has a nifty little blog going that got niftier now that she updates it frequently.

To all these people and the ones I didn’t list (because you stopped posting or I ran out of time or you’re an agent who doesn’t need to be poked at or whatever), thank you very much.

And, lastly, my most heartfelt thanks go to The Wife Unit, the ever beautiful Southern Lady and Wonder Mommy. I can think of no other existence than what I have now.

Well, maybe a published book or two. I think she would like that.

more happy


Wow!

Tomorrow my blog will be one year old!

Where did the year go?

Now there is pressure to think of something worthwhile to post.

Maybe, just maybe, I will talk about waffles!


Monsters! Zombies! Guns! Vampires! Hot Girls!

Every Wednesday you can find me over in Adventures in Writing.

Today I shamelessly plug Monster Hunter International by Larry Correia. I’ll review it later this week on my blog when work isn’t such a madhouse.

MHI and my Mr. Yuck Glock 17

MHI and my Mr. Yuck Glock 17


The Wælcyries Murders

Chapter 1


Four Husbands and two Wives, yet I feel alone, a deep sense of sadness, and I am paralyzed with dark, circular thoughts.

It is, of course, my fault. Everyone is the same but I have changed drastically. I came out of the regen tank to fix my war-wounds for once and all, as a little teen sexpot. Not even a younger version of myself, I look like a little sister, if I had a little sister. Shorter. Lithe and svelte instead of curvy and athletic.

I am a pixie. All I need is wings.

I contemplate jumping off my mountaintop, falling unto the rocks below. Splat. No wings here. Just another broken vet offing herself, a grim post-war statistic: a little chit-mark in the right column instead of the left.

Suicide, while classic, would be dishonorable. I do not fear death but my honor is all I have left. I don’t have my body. I don’t have my wisdom. I don’t have my spouses. I gave my virtue to the Empress. All I have left is my damn honor, my warped sense of justice tied up with my duties as an Investigator.

I take a deep breath, and feel the cold rain on my face as I look down at the rain-soaked forest landscape and realize I am feeling sorry for myself.

Well I have a cure for that. If my spouses won’t tend to my needs, I will seek intimacy elsewhere. I sub-vocalize to my Investigator PDA.

—Arune?

A pause. I sigh. Pause is bad. Arune is my old warship. The only reason he would not respond instantly is if he was out of range.

—Sorry Lexus, I’m on the moon with Tiff and Britt. Back in ten days.

—Okay. I love you; call me when you get back.

Arune and Britt, two of my current lovers, while Tiff is a potential lover. Just like that, my list of lovers for the evening snipped short.

I am in desperation territory because the rocks at the bottom of Mt. Si are now calling to me.

—Empress, my love?

A pause.

—Lexus, my darling, my Concubine, my Princess. I have taken a trip to the moon. Be back soon.

The moon. What the fuck? Why would the military, and the Empress, go to the moon? Logically, it makes sense. Britt is a Military Police Lieutenant, Arune is a warship, and Tiff is his pilot. So yeah, the four have met before and I am sure they will meet again. But the moon? All that’s on the moon is some launchers and dusty old nano-factories that nobody wants to turn on, and some privately funded research bases.

I mentally shrug. I made the conscious decision to disengage myself from the Military. I don’t need to know, so nobody tells me what is going on. And when it comes down to it, I don’t want to know.

Now I am in trouble. My fellow Investigators, of course, would always tend to me, if I asked. Scott and I have never made love, but the unspoken opportunity is there. But Scott is in Portland on a sudden assignment.

Ivan is downstairs sleeping. He is exhausted from completing four insurance dictated autopsies. He didn’t even leave his office, crashing on the couch. Ivan is not a young man. To wake him up with my need to be touched and kissed would be very selfish.

And that leaves my boss, Bambi. My relationship with her is complicated. On one hand, she is like the daughter I never had, and my best friend in the entire world. On the other, I find her attractive.

Bambi is not into women. I could seduce her, but that would make me the Shit of the Century. I refuse to burn my friendship and my career to satisfy my lustful desires.

Look at me—I am all grown up. A giggle escapes from my lips.

I am at the end of my rope.

Well, when the going gets tough, the tough go on a snorf binge. My all-consuming need to be constantly touched, kissed, and possessed by a lover should subside to a manageable burn.

As long as I don’t die from an overdose.


To Know Love is to Know Fear

The wise sometimes say fear is a gift, but what does that mean?

Our heart has an endless capacity. We can love many people and still have room for even more love, an everlasting bottomless pit of adore.

How is this possible?

To know love is to know fear. On day, one of the people we love will break our heart, and the natural reaction to loving again is fear. This can show us reality, but usually it feeds off our other emotions like grief, or sadness, thus becoming a perverted oil slick over our ocean of soul.

The decisive moment to let fear rule our heart, or love again, comes from when we are alone. Sometimes we need to be alone in order to learn to love ourselves so we can in turn love other people.

Sometimes, being alone is just fear of the future.

Sometimes, we try not to be alone because we are afraid to face our broken, wounded heart.

But in those quiet moments, we can embrace our fear of letting people in our heart by accepting who we are, not how someone tried to define us with pain. The cycle can begin again. We can love, endlessly. And perhaps next time our heart will not get broken, for we start to live in the truth, and deny the denials.

Love the quiet moments.

Love the water that cleanses.

Love the shadows that bridge one existence to the next.

Love yourself.

Then you will find that you are the one in someone else’s heart. The wounded need you. You are the one let inside. To fill your hear with love, you need only look around and hold out your hand, taking the gift of fear, and making it your own.

embrace fear


Writer Places to Recharge Your Soul

Every Wednesday you can find me over in Adventures in Writing.

Today I write about recharging your writer batteries on the Oregon Coast.


Cowboy Junkies, Misguided Angel

I confess, I am a Cowboy Junkies junkie. Margo has The Voice. I am constantly amazed by the Cowboy Junkies passion and poetry.

***

Misguided Angel
Margo Timmins, Michael Timmins

***

I said “Mama, he’s crazy and he scares me
But I want him by my side
though he’s wild and he’s bad
and sometimes just plain mad
I need him to keep me satisfied”

I said “Papa, don’t cry cause it’s alright
And I see you in some of his ways
Though he might not give me the life that you wanted
I’ll love him the rest of my days”

Misguided angel hangin’ over me
Heart like a Gabriel, pure and white as ivory
Soul like a Lucifer, black and cold like a piece of lead
Misguided angel, love you ’til I’m dead

I said “Brother, you speak to me of passion
You said never to settle for nothing less
Well, it’s in the way he walks,
it’s in the way he talks
His smile, his anger and his kisses”

I said “Sister, don’t you understand?
He’s all I ever wanted in a man
I’m tired of sittin’ around the T.V. every night
Hoping I’m finding a Mr. Right”

Misguided angel hangin’ over me
Heart like a Gabriel, pure and white as ivory
Soul like a Lucifer
Black and cold like a piece of lead
Misguided angel, love you ’til I’m dead

He says “Baby, don’t listen to what they say
There comes a time when you have to break away”
He says “Baby there are things we all cling to all our life
It’s time to let them go and become my wife”

Misguided angel hangin’ over me
Heart like a Gabriel, pure and white as ivory
Soul like a Lucifer
Black and cold like a piece of lead
Misguided angel, love you ’til I’m dead

While we’re here, check out this bad-ass cover version of Neil Young’s Powderfinger.


An Imperial Thrust: Study of a Supporting Character

I found it odd, in a writing sort of way; a non-planned character suddenly played a significant role for my poor abused hero protagonist, completely outside my meager outline.

It was as if my fingers were possessed and I was writing about a real person instead of making her up in the moment.

Literally, I was going like this:

Lexus is in the doctor’s office, and this is not going to go easy for her. Poor woman can’t even have a normal doctor visit without grief. Hmmmm…

type type type type type

Who’s in the doctor’s office with her?

[redacted]

What the Hell? Where did that come from?

(no answer from the writing gods)

Okay, I am crazy. Well here goes nothing!

type type type type type

Kori, turned out to be an amazing character. I believe my mind, in its grasping way, realized Lexus, in Armageddon’s Princess, needed somebody more powerful than her. Here is Lexus, the most powerful soldier ever to walk the Earth. Yet in the below scene, Kori’s unique voicing leaves one with a distinct impression there is power, and then there is power.

Who is she?

You’ll have to read the book to find out!

***

I look at her. I wish my brain was working and I could place her. “I hope you have the appointment before me. Mine can go for quite a long time.”

“Ah, I don’t think so. His calling service called me and said a patient had an emergency. I had the choice of rescheduling for a different day, or waiting, and she warned it could be a long wait. I’m not worried; I brought a marvelous book, and the next two in the series.” She gives me a beaming smile. “I confess I’m somewhat hiding. No one would dare bother me here.”

“Oh, Kori-san. I’m so embarrassed. That patient is me.”

“Oh! What is wrong? You look fine!”

“I… I…”

Suddenly my eyes sting.

Oh no!

“What’s wrong?” She looks so concerned; it almost takes my breath away. Yet another outstanding young woman, made possible by people like me selling their souls.

I stand up.

“You take your appointment back. I can’t do this.”

I turn to leave, but she latches onto my arm.

“But the service said it was an emergency! If you’re unwell, you have to go.”

“I can’t!”

Please, Kori, my new friend, just let me be, please.

“Why? I don’t understand.”

The panic hits me like a fist. My ears roar and the room actually darkens, I see spots in front of my eyes. Suddenly I’m sitting back down, and realize she pulled me back to the couch.

“I can’t! I feel so ashamed! I don’t want to insult him, but I can’t have him touch me. It’s like I’m trapped! I’m trapped!”

“Ashamed? Why, surely you must have…”

She stops talking and actually grows pale.

“No! No! Tell me this isn’t so!”

Oh no, this is too familiar, too familiar. I’m in Hell. I’m in Hell.

“No! Not you! Not you! Anybody but you, anybody!”

I lower my head. I can’t look at her. She knows who I am and I’ve shattered her illusions.

She grabs me. Her voice takes on a commanding quality, a demanding tone.

“Who did this to you? Tell me, who!”

I wail. She’s now shaking me. Actually shaking me. Her strength is ferocious; she’s shaking me like a ragdoll.

“Who!? I must know! Tell me now!

I lose it—really lose it. I latch onto her as if she’s the only thing keeping me afloat in a sea of despair. I sob into her fancy dress.

“Oh Lexus-san, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Forgive me—forgive my awful temper. I’m sorry.” She strokes my back. “Shhhhh… shhhhh… you can tell me later. Yes, later. You’re safe with me. I will not let anybody harm you. Not anybody. You’re safe now. Yes, safe with me.”

Here I am crying, yet again, yet again shaming myself, this time in front of a stranger.

But she doesn’t sound like a stranger.

Who is she?

Kori


New Post in Adventures in Writing

Every Wednesday you can find me over in Adventures in Writing.

Today I write about Full Monty Analysis While Writing.


Win an ARC of The Better Part of Darkness

Win an ARC (advanced reading copy) of The Better Part of Darkness by Kelly Gay simply by visiting this blog and commenting. Bonus entries for Blogger following, etc.

I have a confession to make. I am a bit of a slut for urban fantasy featuring strong female leads who are not sociopaths with IQ’s of 36D. I am so all over this book.

I take that back. Don’t enter the contest. Because I want this ARC, yes I do.

The Better Part of Darkness


An Embarrassment of Riches: Writing Update

Here is a self-involved writing update!

But hey, if you can’t be self-involved on your own blog, where can you be? Isn’t that three-fourths of the interwebs or something?

I digress.

I’m actually in a self-imposed writing restriction. Editing work on my own novels has piled up and so I pledged, to the Writing Powers That Be (which, conveniently enough, is me), not to write until I am finished with my editing tasks.

And that is killing me.

Killing.

Me.

Softly.

With no words, killing me softly…

Ahem. I digress.

Bunny Trouble
Poor Bunny. I created this awesome three-dimensional character, and now it feels like I am neglecting her. It’s not her fault I can’t use the book to breakout as a published author.

But, she is becoming better with age. I’m contemplating a change that will cut the text all the way to 100,000 words.

We’ll see. It’s a good novel. And I don’t want to mess it up.

By the way, in about a month I can have the latest draft ready to go to any blog reader that wants to read Libertarian Gun Nut Science Fiction.

Actually, I take it back. I am looking at one indy publisher who actually does do Libertarian Gun Nut Science Fiction. I’m not holding my breath, though. I am going to polish the manuscript per above just in case they want to see it.

Armageddon’s Princess
I am looking for an agent for this book project. I’ve had partial requests, and partial rejections. Ha.

This novel really struck a chord with my beta readers, but I am left wondering if my first chapter is as good as I think it is. I’m going to have someone look at it in that regard and give me some feedback next week-ish.

The Baby Dancers
This is actually my next book project to finish. It’s a fun YA fantasy story. I have a need to finish it, not only because I want to see how the story ends, but also because I also plan to shop this around and see if I can land an agent. I am convinced my novelist career has firm roots in Science Fiction. This story, however, is demanding to be written, and I can’t deny the sheer amount of fun I have writing it.

It goes like this: any book with goblin ninjas on fire, you just gotta finish!

Killer Bunny
This is the next book in the Bunny Trouble series. I outlined it, but I am not going to start writing it until I finish The Baby Dancers.

Armageddon’s Princess Sequel
Another murder mystery, of course. I am enamored with the plot and I give all the beta readers who liked the first book, more of what they liked. Because, I am a giver.

This sequel is full of NOM. NOM I say!

I have already fully outlined this novel, but I am not going to write on it until The Baby Dancers is in the hands of my beta readers.

YA Urban Paranormal Fantasy About A Girl Named Lisa Who Turns into a Bad-Ass Wizard via a Tattoo and Gets Her Divorced Parents Back Together Again
When I was doing a blog redesign, I noticed this excerpt, which I pulled out of my literary butt, was popular with my female blog readers. And other random people who came by but never left a comment.

Out of all these book projects, this one just nags on me. It is an itch I can’t scratch, and I have no idea how long I can ignore it.

Now I know what you are thinking, you are thinking, “don’t!” And I might not be able to, we’ll see.

I’ll let you in on a little secret. It’s actually set in the Baby Dancer universe. In a grand-conjunction kind of way, I could go like this:

  • The Baby Dancers
  • Lisa’s Story
  • The Crying Paladin
  • Lisa’s Story II
  • The Baby Dancers III
  • Lisa’s Story III
  • The Baby Dancers meet Lisa (end of books set in this universe)

I will never speak on this again. It will be our secret, buried in the electrons of the interwebs, forever.

But it is a cool idea.

Anyway, I don’t know when I will get to Lisa’s story, but I will. I originally thought 2010 might be a good time. That’s a good guess on my part.

Space Opera
Geeze. I wrote a chapter of “space opera” just so I could see things blow up in space, and this post gets random hits all over the place by people searching for “space opera” and other people who mysteriously click on a link from email readers.

Yet these people do not leave comments.

So here I am thinking it’s crap.

But if it is crap, why do people keep finding it?

Here’s my initial take: people are hard up for Space Opera Science Fiction. Publishers are not meeting this need.

But what do I know? I do know I have resisted the urge to edit the thing like three hundred times, only because it is an example of a first rough draft, preserved forever on the internets.

It was fun to write, but literally, that excerpt is less of an excerpt and more of my only idea for this story. Before and after, I have no idea what happens!

Perhaps if I figure that out, I will treat Space Opera more seriously.

Any of you space opera fans, just click on comment on either post (this one or the actual post), and leave a comment with your thoughts. I don’t bite. Really. You can also send me mail, my contact information is on the right-hand side of this blog near the top under “Contact Me”.

Reading
I have a book backlog. And I vow to make a big dent on it this summer.

Summary
As you can see, I have a large amount of stories to write on, an embarrassment of riches. I do know which book I will start to write on after I finish The Baby Dancers. And I will never complain about this type of problem. Never! I can think of no other writing “problem” I would rather have.

I love writing. I love storytelling. It’s fun!

A shout-out to anyone reading this far… I am curious, out of this list, what would you like to read? Besides the story in the art below by Daniel Conway, of course. Which I will not do, but damn howdy (and damn howdy is a technical term), that painting rocks.

Her Silent Silhouette


Small Blog Redesign

I made a small blog redesign by adding some pages.

Blog Readers: Note the addition of the HW Secret Squirrel club.


Kissing Week, Friday: Cookies!

Kissing is like drinking salted water.  You drink, and your thirst increases.

—Chinese Proverb

We come to the end of kissing week!

So, I’m a guy, right? Right.

And most of my blog readers are women, right?

So I feel it is necessary, nay, I am compelled, to explain the guy fascination with two women kissing.

I had a relationship with a Ms. Fearless. We were in my apartment making cookies. Chocolate chip.

Minor digression: Warm chocolate chip cookies make great foreplay.

Anyway, she asked me quite abruptly:

“What is this childish fascination guys have with two girls kissing?”

“Uh, it’s not childish, but I can explain it to you.”

“Do so!”

So I get out two plates, and put one cookie on one plate and two cookies on another plate.

“Okay, which plate would you like?”

“Uh…”

“Which cookie plate looks better?”

“Women are not cookies!”

“Are you sure about that? Are you really sure watching two women kiss is not analogous to taking the two-cookie plate versus the one-cookie plate for a guy?

“Uh. Fine.”

Ms. Fearless grabs the two-cookie plate.

“Congratulations! You are well underway to your first lesbian kiss!”

“I am so going to kick your ass.”

“Can I eat my cookie first?”

Smack!

Heh heh heh.

Kissing in the Bed


Kissing Week, Thursday: Stolen Kisses

Real kisses have power in today’s Western society.

I belong to a rare club:

  • I am married for a number of years (15!)
  • This is my only marriage

In other words, I am a never-divorced, married man. Believe me when I tell you I am the odd duck at parties. On one hand, I am happy to be in this club. On the other hand, I think it’s sad.

No offense if you are divorced. I’m sure you’re sad too, and I say that with empathy and not sarcasm. I’ve seen it all.

I sometimes get together with my male friends in the same NOT DIVORCED CLUB™ and we talk about the other male species. Sometimes we have to as a defensive mechanism. We have to, or we’ll just go crazy.

One time, we were discussing a particularly nasty divorce, and we got to talking about infidelity. Somehow, we got to talking about degrees of infidelity, the inherent dishonesty of it all. We wound up talking about kissing.

Minor diversion: Do women talk about this kind of stuff?

Anyway, we all agreed that kissing was the crossed line. All the other acts of carnal nature were, at their core, not nearly as intimate as a passionate kiss.

Why is that? I could prattle on and on about it, but my point is, kissing has power. Forget about why people cheat. It seemed to us, divorce, due to infidelity, centered on two related things: the dishonesty of sneaking around, and the intimate aspects of stolen kisses.

Of course, we could be way off the mark. But I don’t think so.

Kissing is an intimate currency. Kissing money. Like real money, it has the potential to cause conflict and settle conflict. A passionate kiss on the wrong lips starts a chain reaction, for good or bad.

As a writer, I am a manipulative bastard. I’ll be spending my kissing money knowledge to press buttons. It might not be this novel, but the next. I am giddy at the thought of kissing tension.

Heh. You might think of this as a dark post. It’s not. Where you might see a depressing look at the state of affairs, I see plot and characterization opportunity!

Okay, that is somewhat dark.

As a fellow reader, you might be thinking, “well duh,” and I rather agree. But just as I think writers boof kissing in a good way, I also feel they boof kissing in a bad way. Writers of the illicit all too often describe the dishonest as carnal intercourse. When, at the core, the dishonesty of it all is the stolen kiss.

stolenkiss


Kissing Week, Wednesday: The Kissing Voice

I’ve written about the sexual voice here in Hack Writerville.

Let’s be honest. Some writers just will never get it. And that is okay. They can write books and I’ll read them.

But when a writer boofs (and boofs is a technical term) kissing, well that just irks me to no end.

A good kissing voice is totally necessary if your main character is, um, kissing. TOTALLY!

Let me explain.

We all have first kisses. There’s that first kiss with the first person to really kiss us, and then there is that first kiss with a specific person. The interest. The hottie. The lovah!

First kisses mean so much to almost every person. There is a certain kind of magic in that first kiss of your new paramour. Its more than just sex or affection, it’s the wonder and anticipation of something new and sensual. It’s magic and if it works, it’s magical if anything really was magical.

So why do writers boof the first kiss? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read TELL first kisses rather than SHOW first kisses. I do not get it. Maybe I’m an incurable romantic. Here’s my theory:

1) The writer is a bad kisser

2) The writer has forgotten the magic

3) The writing is stilted. That is, the writer knows there is something wrong with the kissing scene but is not skilled enough, or brave enough, to fix it

4) Combination of the above

5) All of the above

Now, I’m not going to write off a good book with bad kissing. But I am going to wonder. I am going to wonder just how much better the novel could be if the writer was more honest.

I’m not saying you need to get porno with the first kiss. All I’m asking is bring back the magic.

Kissing, my friends, is where it’s at!

Masao and Bunny: their first kiss

“Thank you, oh, thank you. My family has waited a long time for someone, anyone to say that,” Masao whispered, “a long time.” His own tears fell into Bunny’s hair; his naked honesty a self-inflicted knife wound to his own heart.

Bunny looked up at his face, closed her eyes and parted her lips.

You are an old fool, Masao thought to himself, but kissed her anyway.

Her lips, tasting of wine, were soft and her tongue was comforting but sensuous, both generous and insistent in a slow, focused way. She smelled of flowers and the sea, and in his arms she felt of coiled passion but also pure softness—a feminine contradiction that declared her a woman as any woman he had ever held. Her arm came up to grasp the back of his shoulder and his hand ran down the smooth fabric of her tight dress to cup her bottom, pulling her closer. The other hand he ran through her hair and she relaxed into him.

Then the kiss really started.

An old fool who is on fire, then.

passionately


New Post in Adventures in Writing

Every Wednesday you can find me over in Adventures in Writing. Today I write about Crap Advice: The Stinky Edition.


Kissing Week, Tuesday: Ancient Kissing Wisdom

kama sutra kissingThe Kama Sutra is but one of three ancient Indian texts concerning the aims of life. It is an extraordinary compendium for various practical insights pertaining to intimacy between partners, attention to mood, atmosphere and the senses.

In also tells us quite a bit about kissing “inexperienced young women”:

There are three kinds of kisses to be practiced with inexperienced young women. They are the nominal kiss, the throbbing kiss, and the touching kiss. Here is how they are described:

1. “When a girl only touches the mouth of her lover with her own, but does not, herself, do anything it is called the ‘nominal kiss’”.

2. “When a girl, setting aside her bashfulness a little, wishes to touch the lip that is pressed into her mouth, and with that object moves her lower lip, but not the upper one, it is called the ‘throbbing kiss’”.

3. “When a girl touches her lover’s lip with her tongue, and having shut her eyes, places her hands on those of her lover, it is called the ‘touching kiss’”.

How extraordinary these three little “rules” are! If you agree or disagree about the types of kisses of the inexperienced young woman, the underlying philosophy is an amazing acknowledgment of the idea that a sexual experience, a kiss, can only be so good unless both people are equally involved.

Here, the Kama Sutra is describing the inexperienced to the experienced in practical terms. You might be thinking, “well duh,” Let us think of the context of not just what the compendium said, but when.

Allowing the young, inexperienced person to lead the first encounters shows a depth of empathy for the feminine that resonates all the way to modern western culture between gentlemen and the ladies they wish to kiss.

There are other kissing lessons in the Kama Sutra, such as the whimsical advance and withdraw and play acting. But the celebration of empathy eclipses all of those other insights.

Good kisses have physical characteristics linked with desire and affection.

The best kisses have sensual roots in empathy and understanding.


Kissing Obsessed

About once a year, I feel the need to write about kissing.

I used to think it was because I was, you know, a guy writer. Horn dog, etc.

But if I take a look at the books on my shelf written by guys, there’s not a whole lot of kissing going on.

What is this once-a-year urge to write about kissing? Frankly, I just don’t know.

I love kissing though.

Bunny Trouble is a Libertarian Gun Nut Near-Future Science Fiction Kissing Book. With an alien. Who kisses. And then shoots bad guys.

She hasn’t kissed Bunny yet. That comes later. In book two. Henceforth named Killer Bunny.

Yeah. Bunny starts kissing. Then she starts shooting bad guys too.

Anyway, since this is apparently Kissing Week week on the brain, I declare this Kissing Week on my blog!

Feel free to tune out and join me next week after I have purged this yearly kissing ritual.

kissing


Short Stuff

I used to be short.

We’re talking the smallest guy at school and shorter than most of the girls.

I never worried about my shortness. It just never bothered me. Until, that is, all my friends hit puberty, and there I was, stuck in some timeless boyhood.

It was a strange time. There would be some hot, young woman sitting next to me in class, and, essentially, she was a goddess of beauty to my newly hormone infused brain. Only, I clearly recognized, I didn’t exist. I was a boy, someone to be baby-sat on the weekends for gas money.

Okay, done being short now!

They say be careful what you ask for, as you might get it. And in the space of a half a year I went from short to average.

And, that hurt. It hurt a lot. I remember waking up in the middle of the night and putting ice on my knees. Falling down simply walking or riding my bike peppered me with bruises. One time someone even asked me, on the sly, if my parents were smacking me around.

Ah, no. I did that quite well enough myself, thank you!

*trip*

*thud*

Then one day I found my internal rhythm, where my brain figured out this new body thing and sleeping twelve hours a day on the weekend was no longer necessary. It was a different world. The transition was sudden and intense and what the heck happened to my complexion?

I used to be short.

Then I grew very quickly.

Then a girl kissed me.


Adventures in Writing: Happy Fourth!

The writing behind the Declaration of Independence: Adventures in Writing: Happy Fourth! by Diane Gallant.


IN CONGRESS, July 4, 1776

U.S. National Archives and Records Administration
www.archives.gov July 4, 2009

The Declaration of Independence: A Transcription

IN CONGRESS, July 4, 1776.The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America,

When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.–That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, –That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.–Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.

He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.
He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.
He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.
He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.
He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.
He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.
He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.
He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary powers.
He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.
He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harrass our people, and eat out their substance.
He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.
He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil power.
He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:
For Quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:
For protecting them, by a mock Trial, from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:
For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:
For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:
For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury:
For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences
For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies:
For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:
For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.
He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.
He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.
He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.
He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.
He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.

In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.

Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our Brittish brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.

We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.


The 56 signatures on the Declaration appear in the positions indicated:Column 1
Georgia:
Button Gwinnett
Lyman Hall
George Walton

Column 2
North Carolina:
William Hooper
Joseph Hewes
John Penn
South Carolina:
Edward Rutledge
Thomas Heyward, Jr.
Thomas Lynch, Jr.
Arthur Middleton

Column 3
Massachusetts:
John Hancock
Maryland:
Samuel Chase
William Paca
Thomas Stone
Charles Carroll of Carrollton
Virginia:
George Wythe
Richard Henry Lee
Thomas Jefferson
Benjamin Harrison
Thomas Nelson, Jr.
Francis Lightfoot Lee
Carter Braxton

Column 4
Pennsylvania:
Robert Morris
Benjamin Rush
Benjamin Franklin
John Morton
George Clymer
James Smith
George Taylor
James Wilson
George Ross
Delaware:
Caesar Rodney
George Read
Thomas McKean

Column 5
New York:
William Floyd
Philip Livingston
Francis Lewis
Lewis Morris
New Jersey:
Richard Stockton
John Witherspoon
Francis Hopkinson
John Hart
Abraham Clark

Column 6
New Hampshire:
Josiah Bartlett
William Whipple
Massachusetts:
Samuel Adams
John Adams
Robert Treat Paine
Elbridge Gerry
Rhode Island:
Stephen Hopkins
William Ellery
Connecticut:
Roger Sherman
Samuel Huntington
William Williams
Oliver Wolcott
New Hampshire:
Matthew Thornton

Page URL: http://www.archives.gov/exhibits/charters/declaration_transcript.html
U.S. National Archives & Records Administration
8601 Adelphi Road, College Park, MD, 20740-6001, • 1-86-NARA-NARA • 1-866-272-6272

Thank you

Ever feel so relaxed you’re about to slip into a coma? The kids are keeping themselves occupied, the wife is doing her own thing, work is good, today is a day off, tonight, dinner with the guys in which we will consume garlic with token bits of chicken added.

It makes me thankful, and thankful that my 8.3 blog readers are so nice too.

For the US folks, have a happy 4th of July tomorrow.

Mmmm sun. How sweet it is.

(stretch)

(snooze)

(zzzz)

relaxed


New Post in Adventures in Writing

Every Wednesday you can find me over in Adventures in Writing. Today I write about my favorite book, ever!


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