Golden Heart

Bitchpants = Loose

Nicola over at Alpha Heroes has very politely reminded me that it's been a LONG time since I've updated this blog. I know this is no excuse, but... I've been writing. Frantically. For some reason, and likely under the influence of hallucinogens, I entered the 2009 Golden Heart contest. While my Bitchpants are Loose, it's two months before the contest submission deadline and my panties are definitely in a wad.

For those of you who may not know, The Golden Heart is the Romance Writers of America's annual contest for unpublished romance manuscripts. It's kind of a big deal. And why, you ask, did I decide to push my first/only (and not quite finished) manuscript out into the world by entering the biggest friggin' writing contest in Romancelandia? Do not ask me. Like I said, I was under the influence. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

I have to stop tweaking the first two chapters and start writing the dreaded synopsis.

Listening to: "Maybe Tomorrow" by Stereophonics

Music as a Catalyst

Bitchpants = Loose

Writers, have you ever had a scene for a book emerge, nearly fully formed, from a song? This happens to me quite frequently. This morning the song was "Maybe Tomorrow" by Stereophonics. Its aural qualities - soft, woozy, with a thrum of bass driving it along - catalyzed a pivotal love scene in which my hero and heroine engage their emotions in addition to their bodies.

Ahem. Where's my boy when I need him? Out of town, damn it.

Listening to: "Crazy Bitch" by Buckcherry

Bitchpants Codes

Following are the Bitchpants ratings I plan to use in this blog:

Bitchpants = Loose
If my bitchpants are loose, I am not at all annoyed about the topic I'm writing about. All is well. Compliments may well be uttered. Think ...(MC) Hammertime!

Bitchpants = Snug
If my bitchpants are snug, I am experiencing a... wee bit of angst about the topic at hand. These jeans are pinching me in the crotch. Annoying, but not agonizing.

Bitchpants = Tight
If my bitchpants are tight, I am highly, monumentally annoyed. Maybe angry. I can't breathe in these pants. I need a pliers to get these damn things zipped, and my genitals are going numb. May be modified by decade. e.g., '70's jeans' tight. This is as high as it goes.