Patti O'Shea's Blog

I mentioned in my post yesterday that my parents cooked at my house when my step-cousin visited because they wanted the food to be edible. It wasn’t an exaggeration. Let me tell you about my latest adventure in the kitchen.

Yesterday afternoon, I started the dishwasher and looked inside the oven. There were some spatters of grease from the steaks my parents had broiled the day before and I didn’t like that. This was my nice, brand new oven and I wanted it immaculate again, so I hit the button for the self cleaning feature and went to the living room to work on the computer. To set the stage, my kitchen, dining room, living room and foyer are all one big room with a vaulted ceiling. As I’m sitting there, I smell something. I shrug it off. It’s probably burning the grease off the interior of the oven, not a big deal. I go back to work.

I’m not sure how much later it was, but I start thinking, wow, it really smells smoky in here. But I don’t look up from the laptop.

Finally, even I couldn’t ignore it any longer. It really stinks and there wasn’t that much grease in the oven. I look over, and hanging like a haze in my great room area is smoke. Lots and lots of white smoke. My eyes widen. I look up at the smoke detector. The last thing I want is that going off. I put down the laptop and scurry for the oven and stop the cleaning feature. It begins its cool down procedure, but the smoke is still thick. Yikes!

I run for the windows and start opening them wide. It’s 29 degrees outside with a frigid wind, but I had to get rid of that smoke somehow and I’m dreading the screech of the smoke detector. All my room fans are at my parents’ house because I didn’t think I’d need them now that I have a home with central air. I run and flip on the vent fans in the laundry room and the guest bathroom, although I don’t think it’ll do any good since they’re both enclosed rooms and the smoke is mostly in the great room area.

The smoke doesn’t seem to be dissipating too quickly, but the house sure got cold in a heartbeat. I don’t know how long I tried to tough it out on the couch, but I finally moved myself and the laptop into the bedroom where it was warmer.

I can still smell the smoke this morning, although it’s much less than it was last night. They build these new houses so tight now, that I think I’m going to need to open the windows again today to try and get some of the stink out. Sigh. It’s 37 degrees.

Lesson: Don’t let me near an oven, even when it doesn’t involve actual cooking.

Last night, I had company. I bet that’s the first time I ever typed that sentence on my blog. My step-cousin (I think that’s how our relationship works out) was in town on business and my parents invited her over for dinner at my house. And since I’m sadly lacking in kitchen supplies, my mom and dad hauled over all kinds of stuff from their house. All kinds of stuff. Gah!

I came home from work and my counters were loaded with stuff. Loaded, I tell you. More than you can possibly imagine anyone would need for a dinner for four. I grew up in chaos. My parents are horrible pack rats and there was always clutter everywhere and that included our kitchen counters. Seeing this in my house when I walked in the door was enough to make me shudder. I told myself it was only for a few hours, I could handle it for that long.

Gail arrived not that long after I did and after giving her a grand tour of my house (including the two rooms I haven’t unpacked boxes in yet and my dad took her to my basement. sigh.) We started talking. I’d gotten her hooked on romance novels and we started talking about books. You gotta love that. It turns out we already love some of the same authors–Sherrilyn Kenyon, Karen Marie Moning, Christine Feehan. I also recommended a few authors like Julie Garwood and Jayne Ann Krentz and promised to email more suggestions. Because Gail travels on business all the time, she reads on planes and in hotel rooms so she goes through a lot of books and she needed more authors to read.

It was a really fun evening and I saw the coolest movie she made for her grand nephew’s first birthday party. If I could remember the name of the program, I’d hunt it down myself because it was a phenomenal movie, combining still photos and video and covered big events in his first year of life. Way cool!

It was really nice to socialize a little bit–I haven’t done much of that in ages because I’m always writing–or so it seems. The highlight of the night, though, is this story that Gail told me. I hope y’all don’t mind my passing it along here because it’s like the coolest thing ever.

Gail was in Tucson to do a presentation and she ran out of books and headed to the store to get some more. I can’t remember if it was B&N or Borders for sure, but I think it was Barnes & Noble. Anyway, she always buys a huge stack because she can go through a book in a day and a half. She goes up to the counter and she and the clerk start talking about romance novels. The clerk reads them too. So Gail mentions that she has a relative who writes romances. The clerk asks who and Gail tells her, Patti O’Shea. (Here’s the cool part.) The woman behind the counter says, “Oh, my God! You know Patti O’Shea!” And from the way Gail told the story, there was that level of excitement. Gail said it was like you were a movie star or something. Now isn’t that the coolest story ever? this is one I’m going to savor for a really long time–like today when I’m back to fighting with the WIP.

Gail didn’t stay real late since she has a flight this morning. This is good since I get up at 4am, but you know what? Even though I got to bed before 10pm, I still feel as if I was hit by a truck. It was a great evening, though, and I’m really glad we got together.

Of course, you should see my kitchen. My parents cooked since they wanted the food to be edible and it looks like a tornado went through the place. My dad even managed to get stuff on my burner again–it looks like a little melted plastic of some sort–and I was scrubbing on that last night for a while. We were all tired so my mom and dad went home and I went to bed with stuff everywhere–in my sink, on my counter tops, on my table. I told my parents if they’re going to trash my house like this, they can’t use it as their party pad any longer.

It’s raining here. Rain in December isn’t necessarily a good thing in Minnesota, so I’m going to have to head out the door early. Somehow. No matter how hard I try, I always seem to be running late every morning. Today, I overslept by twenty minutes and that puts me in a crunch. Why is it that the writing this week has finally started coming easier–at 9pm at night? I mean, I went through the nocturnal thing with Mika and Conor, but they were demons and they slept all day. My h/h in the WIP have normal sleeping schedules. Of course, I should be happy that writing is flowing at all even if it is late in the evening. This has truly been the book from hell.

A friend sent me a link to a cute Christmas card. Definitely worth the time to look at it.

How’s everyone doing on their holiday shopping? I haven’t started yet. Heck, I’m still writing holiday cards. I thought I had my parents figured out and they’re the hardest to buy for. I was going to get them a subscription to NetFlix, but now I’m rethinking that. I bring over the movies I’ve seen that I think they’d like, but they’re sending back the second POTC disk unwatched. Now I’ll have to think some more. They’re so hard to buy for. My mom doesn’t have a hobby and my dad’s is his lodge.

Sorry about not posting this morning. My laptop went all wonky and even a restart and a complete reboot didn’t make it work real well. I had a program update yesterday and I think that’s what caused the problem. I turned it off and everything is working fine now. I’m not going to do a whole post because I need to be working, not blogging, but here’s a holiday quiz.

Your Christmas Stocking Will Be Filled With Coal

You haven’t been *that* naughty this year Santa is just screwing with you

I received some really nice holiday cards yesterday. It still amazes me that I have readers who take the time to mail me a card. It’s sweet and I love it and it makes me smile for hours. Something like that never occurred to me when I was reading, but then thoughtful little things generally go past me before I think of them (if I ever do). I never sent an I-loved-your-book note to an author either, but now I will whenever I like a book because I know how exciting and thrilling and meaningful those notes are. Of course, I’ve finished one book in the last two years because I’m always so busy now, but if I ever have time to read again, I will email authors whose books I liked and let them know.

I’m working on my own holiday cards. Kind of. Trying to sneak them in while I’m at the EDJ because I just don’t have time at home. (I sure hope no one from work is reading this!) This year I did a first for me, I had the cards preprinted with my name and appropriate non-specific holiday greeting. It seems kind of impersonal, though, so I’m still signing my name next to the preprinted thing, or adding a brief note.

Oh! I can’t believe I almost forgot this. Yesterday morning I was really exhausted, I always am on Mondays because I never sleep on Sunday nights, no matter how tired I am. There was a thick coat of frost on the roads, making them really slippery, and I had to drive slower which meant I got stuck by the train and that made me late for work. So I park the car and I’m all flustered from being late and spacey/crabby from being so tired and as I walk into the lobby, some woman accosts me for a donation. It seems my company has partnered with Make a Wish for the holidays and it wasn’t enough to put posters all through the buildings and encourage people to approach the designated floor leader, now they’re going to panhandle too.

Now, I’m sure Make a Wish is a fine and worthy organization, however, I prefer to do my charitable giving when I’m at home and have time to evaluate the charity. I want to know how much is going to admin costs and how much actually goes to help the people they’re supposed to be helping. I also hugely resented being accosted at 6am. I’m sure this is my company’s way of meeting some goal the big shots wanted to meet, but I found it intrusive to walk into a dark lobby and immediately have someone hold out a big fake crystal bowl and say, “Make a Wish.” I felt like saying, “I wish I win the lottery so I can quit the EDJ.”

They were still leaping on people when I left yesterday afternoon. I sure hope that I can walk in to work today without having to run a gauntlet.

I found out yesterday that I won Midwest Fiction Writers’ Rising Star Award! How cool is that?!?

Yesterday, my dad came over while I was writing and mentioned that a kind of relative is going to be in town. My mom’s sister’s husband’s granddaughter. LOL! I think that makes her a step-cousin or something to me. My dad wanted to invite her to have dinner at my house on Thursday night.

You’re probably thinking, why at Patti’s house? That would be because I don’t have any clutter lying around. My counter tops are clear, as is my table and every other surface in my great room/dining room/kitchen area. Sure, I still have the two rooms that I haven’t unpacked yet since my move, but merely closing the doors takes care of them. My parents have lots of clutter all the time. When I was in grade school, I knew if I ever wanted to find anything again that I had to hang on to it myself, that if I gave it to my mom or dad, that there would be a stressful twenty minute search when I needed it again. I don’t get that, but nearly all my dad’s brothers and sisters were the same way.

Anyway, I said fine. Then he starts checking what I have and what I don’t have for cooking. My dad should know I only have the basics since I’m not particularly domestic, but he kept on and when that topic was exhausted, he still kept talking. Finally, I’m like, we need to wrap this up because I have to write!

I mean, what’s up with this? When I want to talk to him, he’s so anxious to go work on something else, that I have to keep saying to him, wait, I’m not finished yet. But yesterday, when I needed to be working on something else, he was wound up. So I’m having company on Thursday and the guest bathroom has a shower rod between the tub and the toilet. No, my dad hasn’t installed that yet. I guess I’ll just have to put it in the tub. :-/

I’d really been looking forward to the release of this movie on DVD. I even considered seeing it in the theater–briefly–but I think I had a book due…or something. I’m glad now that I waited for DVD.

This story opens with Will and Elizabeth being arrested on their wedding day for freeing Captain Jack Sparrow in the first movie. The bad guy is a lord who’s part of the East India Trading Company and he offers Will a deal, but to free himself and Elizabeth, he’ll have to find Jack and get his compass. Easier said than done since Jack is in trouble with more than a few people, including cannibals and Davy Jones. (Not Davy Jones the fabulous member of The Monkees, but Davy Jones, the scourge of sailors. I just wanted to be clear.) The rest of the movie involves the search for a chest that everyone seems to want.

So what didn’t I like? I didn’t think this kracken beast thing that attacked on the orders of Davy Jones was all that interesting a plot device and it seemed to keep showing up over and over and over again. It also seemed as if they kept showing Davy Jones’s henchmen calling the kracken over and over. I felt like, okay, already, we get it, let’s move on.

The other thing I didn’t like was how they ended the movie. I knew it would be a cliffhanger because I heard talk when Dead Man’s Chest came out, but I figured it wouldn’t be that big a deal. It was. I would have preferred they shoot it as three stand alone movies, or maybe put a plot arc over them, but wrap up the main story. They didn’t and I’ll have to wait now for Pirates Three to find out what happened.

Things I did like about the movie–Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom. How can any woman go wrong staring at those two guys for a couple of hours? Orlando looked hotter in this movie than he did in the first, IMO, but Johnny Depp is still the hottest. I always used to think he was too pretty when he was younger, but now that he’s older–oooh, baby!

While I didn’t like the cliffhanger ending, I did like who they had show up at the very end. Way cool! That alone will impel me to see Pirates Three when it comes out.

Overall, I thought Pirates of the Caribbean 2 was okay, but that it lacked the charm and humor of the first one. I didn’t find anything particularly wrong with it, it just didn’t excite me and enchant me like Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl did.

The move is worth watching just to look at Johnny and Orlando and there are worse ways to while away a couple of hours.

3.5 stars

Over the years, I’ve heard other authors talk about gift books. They said they’re rare, but every once in a while, they’ll have a story that just flows out. These stories take little revision on their part and the editors who get these books don’t ask for many revisions.

I’ve never, ever had a gift book. All my stories have involved struggle and frustration. So my question is: When do I get my gift book? I’m working on my 6th book to be published. I wrote 3 before I sold my first and I’ve written a novella. Can’t I have one that’s easy and practically writes itself? If you go by the law of averages, would you think I’m due by now?

The counterpart to the gift book would be the book from hell. I can’t remember hearing other authors talk about this, but surely I’m not the only one who’s landed one of those, right? Unfortunately, the WIP is a book from hell. I’ve never trashed the amount of pages I’ve trashed in this one. I’ve cut everything I had at least a dozen times, and a little over a week ago, I trashed everything except chapter 1 and chapter 3 and started over yet again. It made the book much better, but, ouch!

I never thought writing was easy. It’s always been hard work for me, but I’ve never had a book like the WIP either. I used every trick I know or have heard about. I have reams of notes and character sketches and dozens of emails with stream of consciousness brainstorming, but nothing helped. Until this week. I don’t know if it was cutting the crap or if it was a miracle, but things finally clicked into place. That doesn’t mean I still won’t be struggling to get the words down, but at least now I know what the general theme is and I know some of the scenes I need.

I think my next story should be my gift book. After I fight my way through the WIP, I’ll deserve it. Unfortunately, I’m not sure gift books work like that. I guess I’ll just keep my fingers crossed and hope that some day I can be one of those authors talking about their magical story that seemed to write itself. Until then, back to work.

A reminder. The Shards of Crimson Contest is still underway. There’s some great prizes including autographed books, handmade paper, a mug, stakes to take out a vampire and much more. For information on the prizes and instructions on how to enter, visit my website’s Contest Page.

I came home yesterday and my closet door is still off. TBH, I’m not surprised about this although I was hoping that my dad would come over in the morning and get it fixed before he began his social engagements for the day. I’d lay money that I’m going to have to nag him for days/weeks before he takes care of it. It might just be easier to do it myself. All I’d need is some instructions on how to hang the door. From what one of the guys at work was saying, it didn’t sound like it was too hard. Of course, I’m not particularly handy–any number of crafts projects I’ve attempted show proof of that–so this might not be the best solution.

Does everyone think sometimes about what they’d change about their house if they had it to do over? I mostly love my new home, but there are a few things that bug me. Like the position of some of the light switches. I have two switches for the laundry room, one is next to the door for the garage and the other is in my hallway. But I can’t tell you how many times I’ve walked into the room and reached to the right on the inside wall. Or the fact that I have no light switches inside my garage for the overhead garage lights or the lights on either side of the garage front. It never even occurred to me that they wouldn’t put those switches in. That was a big huh? I wish I had a phone jack on the other side of my bed, but at least I have two phone jacks in almost every room.

I also occasionally think of the good choices I made, like putting a light above the shower, or asking for a lot of lighting in my great room/kitchen area. I hate having to turn on a ton of lamps to have to see anything and this way I don’t need them.

Then there’s the third category–what I don’t have, but wanted and couldn’t afford. Like under-the-counter lighting, upgraded carpeting and taller cabinets.

Tuesday night, I called my parents and talked to my dad. A couple of years earlier I’d bought a down blanket, but it had been too warm to use in my old bedroom and I’d dumped it in my parents’ basement where it sat all through last winter. Now, though, my new bedroom feels colder at night and I wanted that down blanket for the bed to keep my feet warm. I described the blanket in detail, including it’s color and the type of box it was in. My dad kept asking if I had it at my house and I kept insisting that it was still in their basement. Finally, he agreed to look for it and I said I’d pick it up on my way home from work Wednesday afternoon.

I stopped by yesterday and I barely had my coat off when my dad asks if the blanket was quilted. It was. He asks if it’s blue on one side and pink on the other. It is not. It’s all a raspberry color, I tell him. He frowns. Asks several other questions about the blanket and I’m thinking, what’s the deal? I described it yesterday on the phone. It soon becomes apparent that he had searched my linen closet in my house.

I repeat what I said several times on the phone the night before–the blanket is in a box in your basement. It’s not in my house.

He finally says that they looked in the basement and they couldn’t find it. Then, and this is the reason I’m telling this story, he confesses that when he checked the closet in the spare bedroom, he’d yanked the door off its track and COULDN’T GET IT BACK ON AGAIN!

Yes, that’s right, my dad searched my house for a blanket that was in his basement and he ripped the left closet door completely off. I checked it out when I went home and there it is, leaning against the closet door that remains in place.

I didn’t say much, but this irritated me for several reasons. First, it appears he spent more time looking in my house than in his. Second, I’ve been waiting for something like 6 months for him to fix my rocking bar stools and at least 4 months for him to put up the shower rod in my guest bathroom. Do we want to start a pool on how much nagging I’m going to have to do to get my closet door put back where it belongs? Third, why was he yanking the door that hard anyway? These bifold doors aren’t that sturdy and I’m always very careful to open them slowly.

The only thing I did say was, why were you looking at my house? I told you I didn’t have it. I’d already checked my linen closet before I’d called him and that was absolutely the only place it would be. I guess I should be grateful he didn’t yank that bifold door off its track since it’s right there in the hallway and it would bug me every time I saw it–which is often.

To make a long story short, I went into my parents’ basement, looked around, found the box and retrieved my down blanket. This all took less than 2 minutes despite my mom hollering down the stairs for that entire length of time that she wanted me to look at some other box she’d found and then arguing with me when I told her I’d already found the right box. Sigh.

Sometimes, my parents drive me nuts. It was such a simple request and it ended up being an ordeal that won’t be over until I get my closet door fixed.