Ever Feel Like You’re Rattling Around All Alone?

Where are all my Southern Sizzle gals hiding these days? Here’s a wet guy just to keep you all interested in coming back

I do. !

Superhero Wetsday

When I was but a young pup, my brother and I were absolutely addicted to comic books. Now this is in the old days, children, when dinosaurs roamed the earth. We didn’t have no “anime” — it was straight DC and Marvel, the classics. And we were lucky enough to have a cousin who worked at a newsstand, who had access to the trashpile where last month’s issues, stripped coverless, were thrown out. She kept us well supplied with our drug of choice, like Anna Nicole Smith’s pusher.

So it is somewhat surprising to know that I don’t particularly like superhero movies. I had to watch Batman in all his incarnations with the DH, and I of course was in love with Chris Reeve back in the day — that boy could fill out a pair of electric blue tights like no one else. But all the others — the Fantastic Four, the Greens (Lantern and Hornet), etc. — yawn. Take it or leave it.

But at a writing session with those wild and wonderful connoissieurs of masculine pulchritude, Jillian Chantal and Micki Gibson, I found something that might just change my mind.

I was just sitting, minding my own business (yes, sometimes I do that) when an iPad was thrust under my nose. “Look at this,” J&M instructed.
And there he was, today’s wet guest, as he appears in this month’s new release of X-Men.

I’m telling you, even with my well-known weakness for buff Aussies, I didn’t go see Hugh Jackman as an X-Man. But a German-Irish actor that looks like this? Well, my resolve is weakening.

Tell me what you think, my dear ones. Is Michael Fassbender enough to make me forget my pledge to avoid superheroes?


Ok, I have been tracking my ms as it made its way across the US on FedEx Ground (cheapest/timeliest combo from my local pack and ship).  From my neighborhood shopping center to Crestview in the wilds of interior NW Fla, thence to Ellenwood GA, and on to Hutchins TX. It is now coming into West Coast metro area where an agent awaits it, eagerly I hope. FedEx assures me it will be delivered to her tomorrow.

OMG, I am so scared. I mean, she said she enjoyed the partial — even said she enjoyed  it “very much”. That’s a good sign, right?  If she “very much” enjoyed three chapters, she won’t hate and despise the rest, huh? At worst, she will decline it  nicely, maybe with some helpful comments?


Dear God, Susan and the Duke are going out in the wide world, meeting people without me there to take care of them. Will they be ok? Will people like them?  It’s like my girls starting kindergarten, except that I was friends with the principals and teachers — remember,  I’m with the school board!  I knew the people running things would be on my girls’ side — not so with my poor characters, who will have to sink or swim on their own! (And Susan says one simply cannot swim in a corset and petticoats!)

I have a friend from my RWA chapter who has been a member for years, writing her stories, but she told me she has never sent anything to anyone — not an agent, editor, or contest.  This suddenly seems like a rational path to me.

So tell me, gentle readers, how do you deal with the stress of sending baby out there to fight for its literary existence?

Perhaps, having heard my friend Kelly Stone talk about the value of meditation and tapping into the subconscious mind, I should find a restful image to think about. (We are interviewing Kelly, the author of Thinking Write: the Secret to Freeing your Creative Mind here on the Sizz in the near future, BTW.)

Yes, peaceful, restful image:

Ah, a hot bath, a nice pinot, and Hugh Jackman. Yesssss.

Ah, a hot bath, a nice pinot, and Hugh Jackman. Yesssss.

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