August IWSG: Those annoying little things called words

Time to take a short break from marketing to do this month's Insecure Writer's Support Group post. 

IWSG July Question: What are your pet peeves when reading/writing/editing?

Oh, wouldn't it be nice if that was the same thing for all three? That would be too easy though, and we wouldn't want that. Wait, I'd love a little easy right now. Too bad. Onward!

Reading: Repeated information drives me nuts. This happens most often with a character's way of speaking (they seem to whisper every line of dialogue), a habit they have (frowns when responding to everything), or with a detail of physical description. Perhaps some readers have short memories and need to be reminded that a character has curly hair every three pages. Though, really, I think we can all retain that information. I don't mind an occasional reference to reinforce a description but spread them out for the love of all that's curly. 

Writing: I get annoyed when the words in my head don't flow neatly into the page. Don't we all? Ok, seriously, I'd have to say my biggest pet peeve is having to find the delicate line between the amount of description I prefer and what other people feel they need. Specifically when I do add description (trying to be a good little detail providing writer regarding setting and characters) and I get editorial comments like, "Why do we need this?" Those cartoons of writers pounding their heads to bloody pulps on desks are quite accurate. 

Editing: Repetition of phrasing, paragraph length, and words that start paragraphs. I find all of those things horribly distracting from the story itself. All sentences shouldn't have the same structure. All paragraphs shouldn't start with "I" or "He" and sometimes paragraphs should have more or less than three lines. My eyes like variance. 


Do you have any pet peeves you'd like to share?

While you're here, could you take a few minutes to vote for the cover of The Last God in this July Book Cover of the Month competition? You do need to vote all the way through the brackets. There are a lot of great book covers to vote for!

I'm Watching

Last week wasn't great on several levels. With my attention in too many directions and brain dealing with a couple different craptastic situations - mostly work related - I didn't get a whole lot of writing done. Nor did I get any reading in, though I did try to start one book, my head just wasn't up for it. And sleep, not so much either.

Clearly I needed to step back and recharge and that usually calls for some vegetating in front of the tv. Sleep has yet to settle back into a restful event, but I did enjoy not falling asleep to:

Ascension: An odd little scif-fi miniseries about a space ship launched in the 60's heading off on a three generation mission to a new world to colonize. If you enjoyed Tricia Helfer in BSG, she has a similar, though non-imaginary (those were some of my favorite scenes), role here. And the ending was an enjoyable "ah-ha, I see where you were actually going with that" moment. Too bad it never made it to a full series.

The Man in the High Castle: Now eagerly awaiting season 2, this series takes place also in the 60's. It wasn't my choice of themes for this binge viewing period, really. It just happened that way. In an alternate history where the Nazi's didn't lose the war and the US is divided between the Japanese and Germany. Hitler is still alive and is seemingly obsessed with even more alternate history that shows up on mysterious films. Confused as to what is real? Yeah, most of the characters are too. I have not read the book so I'm with them and will have to wait to see where this is going next season.

Dollhouse: In our quest for the next thing to watch, we gave an episode a try. My husband gave this a meh vote. I almost did to. The first episode had a Quantum Leap vibe, where the same actor is going to play a new character every week. I expected more from Joss Whedon, and as much as I enjoy Angel and Buffy snark entertainment, that wasn't what I was looking for. However, I gave the series a couple more episodes on my own to rope me in because: actors. Want to get a dose of actors from BSG, Firefly, and Buffy? Many of them turn up throughout the two seasons of this generally well written show.

After two chaotic weekends (which likely also played into my burned out feeling), I gave myself two days of utter downtime and camped out in my comfy chair, earbuds in, watching two entire seasons in two days. Get your own food, people. I'm on vacation right here. And really, what better show to take a mental vacation with, than a show about people taking a (albeit mostly non-voluntary) vacation from themselves? Okay, so my downtime turned out a lot better than theirs did, but still.

The part I appreciated most about this series was that the first season could have ended without coming back. We got a glimpse into where the show was going. I loved that. So many (specifically sci-fi) shows just drop off the air and you never know where they were headed. Here, I would have been satisfied. I'm glad there was a second season, which also had a terrific ending, but I did truly appreciate that season one finale. More shows should do this rather than leaving disgruntled sci-fi fans in their wake. I'd start a list, but there are so many that annoyed me when they got cancelled with no resolution that I'd just get angry all over again.

And now I suppose I should get back to writing.

When Productive Turns to Terror

In my last post I mentioned how writing was going so well. I was thrilled with how the book was progressing, excited to work on each new scene, and even snuck away from work several times to jot down a few sentences here and there as they came to me while I was working my day job.

I'd just finished one such little writing break and was gleefully pondering the next scene while working when I noticed a flash of light on my writing computer. Time to reboot and install windows updates. Yes, I have this scheduled. It's supposed to happen at 3am when I'm not in the middle of anything. But apparently the computer gremlins were having a heyday and demanded to do that right now.

I let it finish and reboot and then sat down to reopen my word document so I could type the next few lines I had in my head. Aaaaand, cue the screaming and gnashing of teeth. Not only had word not auto saved ten minutes before as it is set to do, it had no record of the manual saves I'd made over the past entire freaking week. Nor was the save I'd made to my off site drive two days before in existence. No sir, everything I'd poured out all week, all my sparkly words of awesome, had gone poof. Not cool, windows. Not cool.

In the past I've been able to resurrect missing documents from auto recovery files, but alas, there were none because windows doesn't acknowledge that it's random urge to restart might close files you might want to recover. And the restore files feature had never been turned on with this computer or the off site hourly back up - which would have been really damn handy about then.

Thank goodness I'd done a back up to yet another drive a week before. So yay, all was not lost... only about 6K of new words and several chapters of editing.

Ever notice that when you rewrite something it's never quite the same? Though I've since gone through those last couple chapters again, and rewritten all my missing words, they're not the same. Tones have changed and dialogue went in different directions. I'm pretty sure I'm missing a scene but I can't put my finger on what it was. I put the plot back, but it's not as sparkly as it was the first time around.

On a happy note, I'm back to making progress again. I also have my hourly off hard drive backups set up, been manically manually saving, verified that auto save is again functioning, and have vowed to make more frequent secondary backups when I'm in the midst of productive writing.

And I wrote some very sparkly words over the weekend. Okay, they were only sparkly in the sense that that their (rough draft) awesome and I was excited to write them. In reality, the scene was so graphically traumatic, that I ended up giving myself nightmares. Oops.

Patience is a virtue and fiction saves lives

While I'd love to say that I write for a living, I don't. I have a day (and sometimes night and weekend) job, that while it does allow me to do lots of creative things that I really enjoy, mostly that pays the bills and comes with it's share of headaches. Many of those headaches involve writing and reading either in product descriptions or email exchanges, so I'm going to share a few in the hopes that even one of you won't be that person.

Let's say, for the sake of an easy, across-the-board example, I'm selling blankets. I create what I think to straight-forward product description using as few words and sentences as possible because I understand we are all busy and have short attention spans:

Queen size Blanket

Soft, fleece blanket. Fits Queen size bed.  Available in blue (shown) red, white, beige, black and grey. You will be shipped a blue blanket (shown), unless you specify a different color when ordering.

Ships Priority mail within the United States and First Class Mail internationally. Actual shipping rates are shown after adding product to your cart and entering your address.


These are kind of questions I deal with every day, which are the reason I kill so many people in fiction:

1. What is this blanket made of?
2. I like the vase in the photo, where did you get it?
3. What color is the blanket in the photo?
4. I received my order, but was expecting a poster of a blue blanket on a bed like you show. What am I supposed to do with a stupid blanket?
5. I received my blanket in the mail today, but you smashed the box to bits and now it's unusable. How soon can you deliver another one to me in a better box?
6. My order wasn't shipped UPS like I asked for in the notes I put on the order, why?
7. I received my blanket today, but it doesn't fit my king size bed. What are you going to do about it?
8. I wanted a red blanket, but you shipped me a blue one. It says it comes in different colors, but I never saw anywhere to put what color I wanted. How do I get a red one?
9. How much is shipping?
10. How tall is the bed in the photo?
11. Can you show me what that blanket looks like on four poster bed?
12. I received the blanket it in the mail today and when I went to use it, I saw that the disposable bag the blanket came in was wrinkled. Your product is crap. Can I get a refund?
13. I didn't get my blanket that I ordered eight months ago and just realized never arrived. When I went to check the tracking, I see that you shipped it to my old address. I moved nine months ago, but my order shows my old address for some reason. Can you reroute my package to me at my new address?
 14. I didn't get my package and when I went to check my order, I realized I switched to numbers in my address around, and now tracking shows it delivered to someone else. Can you send me a new package? I already paid shipping when I ordered.
15. I ordered a blue blanket like in your photo, but when it arrived, it's dark blue, not baby blue like what I was expecting. What are you going to do about your misleading description and sending me the color I wanted?
16. My blanket was delivered, but someone in the mailroom signed for it and put it somewhere. I can't find it. Can you ship me a new one?
17. I ordered this product - and thanks for shipping it so fast - but I'd emailed you three days after placing my order to ask if I could get two twin-sized, orange blankets instead, but you shipped me a blue queen size blanket. Don't you read emails? I would like to return this blue blanket and get the two orange twin-sized blankets I asked for.
18. I'd like to use this blanket as a table cloth for a birthday party I'm having this weekend, will it repel water and not stain?
19. Is the blanket soft?
20. I'd like to order a blanket in blue. How do I do that?

Other than not dealing with blankets, these are exact questions I have had to respond to.
Please save fictional lives, read descriptions when ordering anywhere, and for the love of all that's holy, double check your mailing information. Thank you.

Character Beliefs

This week on Authors Answer: How difficult do you find it to write characters who have vastly different beliefs than you?

This week in NanoWriMo: I managed to make 10K thanks to a big write-in day on Sunday and then went for 15K and now I'm aiming for 20K. We'll see how much higher I can go. This is really frustrating for me because if I had the time I'd have 50K by now easily. My story is practically writing itself when I have the free moments to give it thought. If only I had the time to write it. Damn you, house!

Estate of Waiting Update

I'll have a story to announce next week, but for now, I figured I'd do a little update on the house project. I wanted to share a nice photo of the house, but we're at a point where nothing exciting is happening on the outside and, well, the inside is a friggen mess.

For the last few weeks, this is the first thing I see when I pull in the driveway. What are those? Septic tanks. No the faces aren't really there. Well, the eyes are, but that's what I imagine on them every darn time. I'm tempted to run over there with some spray paint and make it official. But I haven't yet. 

Why are they still there? We'll, that's a good question. The guy who is supposed to install them hasn't gotten around to it yet. After another email, I've been informed that he will be there this week for sure. But he hasn't been there yet. One more week and my imaginary faces on the feces tanks are becoming real.

The rest of the project is coming along slowly. Yes, we're still in the Estate of Waiting theme. Drywall is going in this week and next. The paint is purchased and waiting in the basement. The trim needs to be ordered and I need to pick out tile and flooring next.

Construction debris is building up everywhere and the concrete guy would love the garage to be cleaned out so he can get that poured. However, the garage is full of the doors that can't go in until the drywall is done and siding*. A dumpster is arriving tomorrow to help alleviate some of the mess that's making me twitchy. And yes, that's a temporary furnace in the middle of the family room. Charming isn't it?

*Our siding guy quit a quarter of the way though the project. He was a friend who did handyman stuff and was going to build our deck next spring. Turns out he got a day job and suddenly didn't need the handyman job anymore so he was done. Just like that: done. Neato.

So now my house is stranded like this. Without the ladders. He took those. Which means now we get to hunt down a new siding guy. Or hunt down the old one. Maybe both.

You wouldn't think it could get worse...

You may have surmised that my doors are still missing from my house.
Last weekend brought on this conversation:

"I'm really sorry, but we can't get another truck out to you. The delivery company can't find another box truck to rent. It's going to be Monday before we can deliver your doors."

"I have an installer coming Monday. This would be the third time I've had to bump his schedule if you can't have them there by Monday morning. I really don't want to chance having to do that. Again."

"I understand. Do you have a vehicle with a hitch?"

"Yes."

"We can loan you one of our rental trailers free of charge if you wouldn't mind transporting the doors yourself. We'll load them up and secure them for you."

"That's better than nothing, so sure. We'll be over within the hour."

This means I have to find some manpower to unload the doors and haul them up the sand hill to the house, but I figure we'll deal with that once the doors are on site. So I call my husband he hurries home from his errands so we can head off to get the trailer and our doors.

While I'm waiting for him, the manager calls back.

"Umm. I'm really sorry. It just occurred to me that we don't have your doors here. They're still on the box truck in the towing company's yard. Glad I caught you before you were on the road.

"Yes, you are. That would have been a very bad situation, had I arrived only to find they were not there. Again." I take a deep breath. "So what do we do?"

"I'll call you first thing Monday morning and let you know where we're at on this."

"All right."

Monday morning comes and I wait for the call that doesn't come. So I call.

"We're still waiting to hear from the delivery company. We've left several messages with them."

"Great. If you can't get this door here by noon, I'm bumped until Thursday with the installer."

"I'll call them back right now and get an answer."

"Sounds good."

Twenty minutes later, the very flustered manager calls me back.

"You're not going to believe this."

"Uh oh." I'm imaging the truck exploded. My door was stolen. It's damaged beyond repair.

"I got the real story from the delivery company. The driver did make it to your city, but then he got pulled over. He had warrants and he was arrested. The truck has been impounded by the police."

Maniacal laughter erupts from my throat. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh. I should be really pissed, but this is so crazy, that I can't help it."

He nervously chuckles. "I know. It's kind of totally out of my control. We'll make this right, I promise."

I guess this explains why the missing delivery driver hadn't called me on Friday. He just may have used his phone call for someone more helpful in that particular situation.

"We were hoping to have the door to you this afternoon, but you see, the owner of the delivery company has to claim the truck and the goods inside because they are in a police impound lot."

"Okay."

"He's on vacation in Florida."

Yes, really. I am now utterly convinced my characters are plotting against me, and they're doing a really good job of it.

"He's flying back today."

"So the odds of me getting the door today are pretty slim."

"Sadly, yes. When they do get delivered, look them over and I'll call you on Wednesday to work out compensation for this situation."

At this point what can either of us do? We both sigh and hang up the phone.

Tuesday comes and plods along. No phone calls from either the manager or the delivery company. I'm relishing the thought of the conversation on Wednesday when I let him know the doors didn't get delivered. Then, at 5:15, as I'm starting dinner so I can get over to the house soon to work on installing the radiant flooring shielding plates, I get a phone call from the delivery company.

"We're on our way. We'll be there in fifteen minutes."

Well damn, good thing I'm home and live close to the new house. I ditch dinner and drive over to the site and wait. And wait.

Just when I'm about to call them back, they show up with my doors. Yes, both of them. They are not damaged beyond the little dent I'd already seen. They are at the house! Hooray!


As to the delivery company, the owner delivered them along with his entertaining conscripted teen nephew. If you've ever watched a person carry something heavy through sand in big floppy untied trendy tennis shoes you'll understand  my meaning of entertaining. The owner looking forward to speaking with the arrested driver to give him a piece of his mind. He apologized profusely. I was sorry his vacation was screwed up as he seemed like a really nice guy.

The driver is still in jail.

The stupid service desk person who told me my door was there and I should drive over to look at it - went it wasn't really there - is still blissfully working behind her desk. Woe to those who come in contact with her.

The manager was very apologetic and offered a level of compensation that negated the majority of my frustration with his store.

The door...still needs to be installed. Let's just hope the story stops here, shall we?

The Woeful Saga Continues

Really, I can't make this stuff up. I could, but I wouldn't do this to my characters.

Oh hell, who I am kidding. I would. I have. Well, not this door saga specifically, but the level of frustration for sure. Maybe they're working with Home Depot to get back at me. I wouldn't put it past those resourceful bastards.

My world was semi-back to rights on Wednesday night when I got a call that my long lost door had arrived at the store. For my woes, my doors would be delivered for free. While I probably should have gone for more, I was sick of the whole situation and just wanted my damn doors delivered, so I went with it. It was too late to get them on Thursday's truck, but they would be out on Friday for sure.

Friday arrives. My long lost washing machine, also a month-long saga of woe and incompetence (by Lowes), arrived in the morning. Things were looking up. I got a call at 12:30 that my door would be delivered at the construction site in one hour.

An hour later, I drive out to the construction site. No one is there. I clean up a little, make some notes for the subcontractors and wait. And wait. They're forty minutes late. Granted, traffic can be delayed between here and there as there is bottleneck town on the highway, but forty minutes is way late even for that. I called the store. They promised to get ahold of the delivery guy and have him call me.

He doesn't call.

This shouldn't have surprised me. My optimism is sitting at the bottom of a pit along with my faith in home improvement store employees. But now optimism curled up in a little ball and started whimpering. Annoyed by the sound, I called the store again. They were surprised the driver hadn't called me back. They promised to call the delivery service office, as this was an outside company, and then call me back with an update.

They didn't call me back either.

Disgusted with the home improvement universe, I got in my car after an hour and half and drove home. Once there, I got a call from the store manager.

"We finally located the delivery truck."

"And?"

"It broke down."

Dead silence on my end. What do I say to that? Okay, a thousand angry things come to mind, but I'm stuck on, "Are you freaking kidding me?"

"No, we're sorry. The driver really should have called you right away so you didn't have to wait for him. Your doors are on the box truck in a tow yard somewhere. We don't even have them in the store that you can come and pick them up."

Internal screaming and gnashing of teeth plays out for a few seconds before I can form words. "I wasted an hour and half and no one could call me? I have a ton of work to do. I didn't have an hour and a half to stand around. Your guy couldn't call me back twice? This is ridiculous. Are my doors cursed?"

I'm pretty sure they are.

"We're really sorry. We're going to try to rent a box truck and get them out to you on Saturday but it will be difficult because everyone is busy right now and there aren't many available to rent."

"I have an installer coming on Monday. They better be here."


"If not Saturday, then maybe Sunday."

"I don't care which, just get them here."

"Why don't you give us a call on Saturday to see where they're at?"

"Why don't you give me a call and Saturday and tell me where they're at. I don't have more time to waste on this. Get them here."

And so the waiting continues.

Waiting. And waiting.

While I'm busy waiting to hear back on submissions, which yes, is a perpetual thing, but I don't have much time for writing right now so I can't chat about that, I thought I'd share progress on the new house. And a story about lack of progress on said house.

See anything big missing in this photo? No, not the siding, that's actually in the garage waiting to be installed. Before that can happen, though, we need a building inspection. But we can't get one yet, because...there's no entry door by the porch.

Where is that entry door? Good question.

 Here, let me tell you a little story.

A month ago, I walked into my local (which isn't local anymore, because ours closed. It's a half hour drive away in a nearby town) Home Depot to order the door I'd found online that fit the space I'd given the framers. Originally, that space was meant for an online exclusive door, also from Home Depot, but when I was ready to order that door, it was no longer available. Neato. In an effort to be prepared and save time (which I have extremely little of these days), I'd used their online door designer and had all the specs and a picture of the entry door with sidelights that I wanted to order with me when I sat down with the guy in the millwork department.

He took one look at my spec sheet and looked confused. "Huh, didn't know we even had that on our website."

This probably should have been a sign of things to come, but I had some (apparently) misguided faith in their employees. After forty minutes and much finagling with his program, he got the door ordered. I then asked for a quote on a garage entry door to match. This one obviously would not have sidelights. Just the door. He gave me a copy of the quote within a few minutes, and I walked out with the promise to return to order the second door the next day on my way back through town (I have to travel twice every weekend through this town to bring my son back and forth to a boy scout camp where he works) after verifying the width of the door.

The next day, I walked back in with my printed quote, ready to order. Both guys at the desk look confused. Neither is the one I'd dealt with the day before. They can't find his quote in the system and they can't figure out what exactly he'd come up with even using the printed quote. Their prices are either significantly higher or lower than the quote. One guy tells me how great the more expensive door is. The other tries hard to sell me the cheaper one. After patiently explaining (and then not so patiently by almost an hour and half later. Yes, seriously.) that, I. Just. Want. The. Door. I. Was. Quoted. They managed to get the quote figured out and order the door.

I wait two weeks. And couple days. Then finally break down and call to check on the delivery of my doors to the store because I'm rather needing the entry door by now and my framers are anxious to finish this job and move on to the next. I'm told it's going to be another week before the door is delivered, but hey, that garage one will be there in two days. Groovy, but not the door I really need right now as that one isn't needed for my building inspection.

They call a couple days later to tell me my order is in. Yay. I tell them I'll wait on that door and pick it up when the other entry door is in.

"Entry door? What we have for you is an entry door."

"I know. That's a garage entry door. I need the large door with sidelights for the house entry door."

"Oh. I don't see that on your order."

"It was ordered the day before."

"Oh. Right. Yes, here it is. That's coming from another company. It should be in on Saturday."

"Great. I'll plan on coming in on Saturday to get both doors."

"You might want to call first. We don't know what time it will be here."

So I do my drive through town to drop off my kid at camp and go home on Saturday. We verify that the large trailer we'll need to retrieve the doors is available. I call the store.

"I'm checking to see if my entry door with sidelights has been delivered to the store yet?"

"Oh yes, I see that here. It came in a few days ago. Didn't you get a call?"

"Are you talked about the garage entry door? I need the one with sidelights. It was supposed to be in today."

"Uhh. Hmm. Let me check on that." Comes back a few minutes later. "Was that a separate order?"

"Yes. A day earlier."

"Okay, that one isn't here yet. Looks like it's scheduled for Monday."

That sucks, but I can make that work. "I'll plan on that then."

"You might want to call first."

"Yes, yes, I will. Got it."

So Monday comes. I call in the afternoon.

"Yes, your door is here."

"The entry door with sidelights, right? Not the regular garage entry door?"

"Oh, you had two orders?"

You may imagine my pounding my head on the desk right about now, and you'd be right. Does no one ever have more than one order out with this place? Really?

"Yes. I'm waiting on the entry door with sidelights that is supposed to be delivered to you today."

"Oh, I show that on the truck and it's about an hour and half away. It probably won't be delivered today. Should be here tomorrow though."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Probably should call to make sure because I don't know what time it will be in."

I grit my teeth, go on with my day, and give them a call on Tuesday.

"I'm checking on the delivery of my entry door with sidelights. I have another door already there. I need to know if the one with sidelights is in. I need it. Badly."

"Oh sure. Yep, that's here. Looks like it's still in receiving. The millwork guy inspected it earlier and left a note that there was some damage. A scratch or dent, I think."

"All right. How bad is the scratch or dent? I need this door in my hands right now. This is holding up my building inspection." At this point, I'll be taking it dented or scratched or bashed in with a hammer, but I'm debating whether it's bad enough to ask for a discount.

"Let me look." They return after a few minutes. "I looked it over and I don't see what he was talking about. So it must not be too bad."

"If he noted the damage, it must be there. I'd like to see it for myself before setting it up for delivery since I no longer have access to the trailer to retrieve it since the door wasn't delivered to the store when I was told it would be."

"Sure, you can stop in today."

"I'll be in tonight as long as I can get it delivered tomorrow."

"Sure, no problem."

So I drive all the way there and go up to the service desk. A friendly young woman greets me with a smile and does her best to locate the door that was received earlier in the day."

"That's weird, it doesn't show me where the door is located."

"Is there someone in receiving that can help you? That's where the door was when I spoke to the special order department earlier."

"Oh!" Her face lights up. "It's right back here." She leads me to the holding area just behind the desk where all the special orders are. She points to a door in the stack of items.

My stomach sinks, but I keep an even tone. "That's the garage entry door that's been sitting here for a week. I need the entry door with sidelights that was delivered here today."

She looks confused. "Oh. Hmm. Okay." She putters with the computer and makes several calls to other employees to track down the missing door. Meanwhile a line forms at the service desk so I take a seat and tell her I'll wait while she helps the other people with returns. I've wasted enough time in this place, what's a few more minutes?

She gets a call from receiving. "Hey, I show that door is in the special order rack behind the service desk. It should have the order tag right on it."

"That's a different door. We need the one with sidelights."

"Oh. Let me look for that one."

I grip my pile of order papers a little tighter and don a strained smile.

A manager wanders over. He nods to service desk girl and goes off behind the counter. When he pops back out, he looks victorious. He whips out his walkie talkie and says, "Cancel that. I found it. It's right behind the service desk."

"No," I say through my teeth. "It's not. I NEED the door WITH the sidelights that was delivered today. I need it NOW. Why is this so hard to find? I was told it was here a few hours ago. Someone was looking right at it. The millwork guy inspected it. He said it was damaged and I want to see it."

"Ooooh. Okay. Let me keep looking."

I start to look for somewhere to scream. The service desk girl gives me an utterly apologetic look and she has a line of people with returns. I'm not going to yell at her. The manager has already wandered off.

She gets a thoughtful look on her face. "If they said it was damaged, I wonder if they put it right back on the truck and sent it back to the manufacturer?"

Oh hell. I can't wait another month. This would mean I have to order a whole different door from somewhere else and I would have done that originally if I could have, but this was the door that fit my already framed space. Which would mean I'd have to get the framers to change the opening size, and that would add to their bill... "They better not have. I told them I would be in tonight to look at it."

"Well, they probably didn't do that then."

The phone rings again. It's the millwork guy.

"I show the door is up behind the desk with the special orders."

Even service desk girl is sounding frazzled now. "No, that's her garage entry door. She needs one with sidelights."

"Oh, so it would be a bigger door?"

We share one of those looks that screams, Duh! "Yeah."

"That might still be back in receiving then."

The service desk girl assures me several people are still looking and she'll let me know as soon as they find it. She moves on to help her line of customers. I stalk off through the aisles to keep from glaring at the innocent people in line at her desk. By the time I return to the service desk, I've strangled the papers in my hands several times over.

A different woman is now behind the counter. She's busy peering at some paperwork and consulting her computer. I set my papers on the desk in front of her, waiting for the moment of revelation where she tells me that my door has been found. But no. She doesn't acknowledge me at all.

Finally I say, "Several people were looking for a door for me. Have they located it yet?"

She looks up from her paperwork. "No. It hasn't been delivered. It's still on the truck."

"What?" I'm pretty sure fire shot out of my eyeballs. "How was someone looking at it while I was on the phone with them earlier if it's still on a truck somewhere?"

"They were looking at the one back here." She waves me over to the rack behind the desk. "See there's a dent in the door. It's just a small one. Won't notice it once you paint the door."

"This door has been here a week, and you're just telling me know that it's dented?"

"Well, no one probably checked it over until you called earlier to ask about it."

"I wasn't asking about THIS door. I was asking about the one with sidelights."

"Yeah, they got confused."

That's an understatement of epic proportions. "So this door is damaged and my other door that I expected two weeks ago and was told was here, that I NEED RIGHT NOW, isn't here?"

She nods.

"When will it be here."

"Hard to say. Depends on who the shipper is."

"Find out."

She goes back up to the desk, ignores the line of customers with returns that has formed while we were off looking at the door that everyone on staff at this store knows is in the rack behind the service desk by now, and proceeds to work her way through her shipper list to locate the one that is holding my door hostage. This should be easy, because every other time I've called to ask about this door, the person on the phone has found the tracking information (granted, not entirely accurate information) within thirty seconds. She takes about five minutes and tells me it's going to be Thursday before it's in.

Yes, it's going to take two more days even though it's loaded on the truck and only and hour and a half away. Apparently this is a very slow truck, possibly a sled pulled by a thousand three-legged field mice tied together with dental floss.

I don't distinctly remember walking out to the car other than acknowledging the fact I should do that before I exploded in a fit of profanity in front of a bunch of people who just wanted to bring back their extra light fixtures and metal pipes that didn't fit properly. I do recall mentioning my spiraling unhappiness level several times a various increasing volumes and making her personally promise to call me the moment the door came in. Not the door on the rack, the actual entry door with sidelights that would be there on Thursday.

And now I wait.

Bookstore full of stupid

A couple months ago (I'm a little behind on posting) I found myself in a bookstore killing time before my son's school band marched in a local parade. This was the little local bookstore where I spent the majority of  my childhood Saturdays, pouring over the shelves, picking out my book (or two) for the week. (Toys? Screw that, buy me books!) I don't get there much these days, due other stores located closer or buying books online, so it's always a nostalgic visit.

I was standing there, perusing the magazine's (one for writers, if you must know), when I found myself next two a pair of women. Mother and daughter, (at least they seemed to be) were looking over the long shelf of magazines, complaining about the price and quality of the available offerings. Apparently the realization that we're not pricing things in the 1970's hadn't hit dear old mom. And then I was hit by this snippet of conversation:

mom: I was going to get one of those Kindles, but they're so expensive.

daughter: They're not that bad, and they're so handy. Way easier to carry around than books.

mom: But you have to buy books to put on them!

daughter: Well yes, that's true.

mom: If I'm spending almost a hundred dollars on a Kindle, I damn well better get the books for free.

me: *mouth falls open*

daughter: Well, you can get a lot of books for .99 or some for free.

mom: I don't even know those people. The books I want all cost money. If they want to sell those things, they need to have all the books for free. I can buy a lot of books for a hundred dollars.

me: *wonders if she's seen the price of printed books lately*

mom: It's ridiculous. If I want to buy a book, I'll get the book. Why would I buy a Kindle and have to pay for the book too?

me: *walks away before causing a scene*

I wonder if she thinks her postage should all be free because she bought a mailbox?  Because she bought a car, should the gas be free? Maybe that Xbox she bought for her grandkids should have all the games for free too?

*headdesk*

I'm sure she wouldn't consider working for free, but the rest of us should. Yeah right.

All work and no writing makes writers twitchy

Apologies to my usual blog haunts. I have not had the freetime to hang out in my beloved internet. Blame work. I do.

While I love the ability to pay bills, the lack of writing time is really getting on my nerves. I pity the character who gets their wish to have me work on their story next. I have a good deal of pent up aggression to vent into words. People might get hurt. No, I'm kidding, they'll certainly get hurt. Hell, they'll probably get killed.

I could really use a good fight scene right now. In the mood I'm in, I wouldn't place bets on which side would win.

Mermaids might suddenly find the ocean dry pumped for a good scrubbing.

Samarah, you might find the middle is one bloody fight after another with no sex until the end, which as I recall, there wasn't much sex at the end. Your patience is hightly recommended.

Jackson, your story includes a lot of blood and gore. I don't think I could make that more depressing, bloody or gory than it already is, but hey, do you really want to challenge me on that?

Bruce, my dear knight, your story already doesn't end well for you, suffice it to say, the middle will likely not be any more pleasant. What with the excess body hair, the flock of godly sheep, and your empty-headed twit of a girlfriend...say what if she talked a lot, really loudly, until she drove you all into madness? I'm open to changing up the ending. What do you say?

Maribella, I'd recommend not making any demands right now. I'm much more in the mindset of your uncle at the moment.
You don't want me writing about babies right now, Marion. I guarantee it would be some deformed, demon-possessed creature dead set on bringing about the end of your world, and while it wouldn't provide much resolution, I'm inclined to let the baby win.

Which brings me to Vayen and the gang. Really? Do I need to even go there? You know what this mood is like first hand.

Deep cleansing breaths and all that. Ahem. Yeah.

Back to the Positive Side

The last thing I expected to see when I
looked out my second story window was a
groundhog staring back at me.
True Story.

It's been a busy week around here. The Family has been talked to about their dog. It seems the frolicking Great Dane wandering my yard was the perfect excuse to haul myself over there to speak to them. All is as good as it will get for now. Maggie is no longer left out for the entire day. So hooray on that front.

Someone got into my car Monday night and stole all of the cash out of my purse and all of the coins out of my daughter's purse (that I hadn't even realized she'd left in my car) thanks to us forgetting to shut the garage door overnight. *waves goodbye to hard-earned money and gestures to the thieving little punks that took it*

The charger for my laptop decided this would be a great week to die--thus completing the trifecta of suck. Good thing I have several other computers around here to fall back on in such emergencies. The new charger arrived yesterday so I'm back in business...and on the couch.

On a better note, I've got my summer family vacation all planned out. We're road-tripping to Yellowstone. Buffaloes and bears beware!

Camp NaNo has mostly been an utter failure on the actual writing front, but hey, I have been motivated to get last month's shorts into the jaws of critiquers, stories polished and suitable markets sought out for submissions.

Next week promises to be slightly better for writing as I won't have child transportation duties smack in the middle of my prime writing time. Wish me luck!

The dog saga continues

First I'd like to say that dear Maggie hasn't been on her front yard tether in two days for more than a couple hours at a time. So yay for that. Oh, and they've mowed. Woohoo!

In other events, I received an irate letter from the family today in the mail. Obviously Mr. Officer did absolutely nothing to attempt to cover events. AND he managed to get almost everything I said on the phone and to him in person wrong. Holy crap, is it really that hard? I swear I wasn't speaking in code or practicing my Klingon.

The dog is tied up outside for eight to ten hours a day with no shelter other than a tree. Her water bucket is tipped over every day so she has no water other than when they first put her outside (which I can't attest to because it's tipped over by the time I get up and see her outside) - and one day, no bucket at all. They come and go, but never check her bucket, even when it's plainly tipped over. The dog doesn't like being in the front yard, looks abused and shows major anxiety anytime someone walks down the street - which happens all the time.

So I get a letter explaining that Maggie eats five meals at day and is not underfed. If they leave food outside for her, she could get worms. The water bucket is there every day. It's behind the tree so it must be that I can't see it. So they'll put the bucket in front of the tree in plain sight for me. My dog is outside all the time and they don't know if it has water or food but they don't call the police on me. I should have just come over and talked to them or at least checked the situation for myself rather than calling the police right away.

Holy headdesk batman. I've gone over to try to talk to them about their dogs many times over the years. They don't answer the freakin door. I'm the one who has chased their dogs (sometimes three times a day) around my yard and put them back in their fenced in (albeit with broken slats) back yard - because Mr. Family, who is home during the day, is sleeping and doesn't answer his door. Ever wrangle a frolicking Great Dane who's bored and wants to play? It's gobs of fun, I tell you. I went over and gave their dog water for goodness sake.

My dog is out either with me or for less than half an hour at a time on his tether - which is not in the front yard and he has access to the door to let me know when he wants to come in and, yes, he has water both inside and out. That wasn't the point at all. The point was leaving the dog out all damn day with no water or shelter where she could feel calm and safe. But apparently that's really hard to convey so now I'll have to do that myself or just live with having irate neighbors that I already don't speak to.

There are days I really don't like people. This is one of those days.