I was thinking today at work…yes, normally I do try to avoid that and no, it wasn't about work stuff because as I was thinking I was also searching the internet for weekend accommodation at Port Douglas…anyway my thoughts swung to short escapes, escapes plan and mad bust outs of doing random, weird things that people wonder why I’m doing them. See? I was incredibly busy.

So, there I was thinking about random schemes and I also stopped and considered the top 5 things I want in my life.

1. Win a humungus lotto prize
2. Learn how to run better
3. Get more sleep – oh god yes
4. Do something worthwhile – still working on what that could be
5. Find a man who will be besotted by my loveliness.

Hmmm…at the start of the year a man was at the top of my list and now he’s at the bottom. I like men. Really I do. We need them to lift and reach for things. But I was remined once more that I do not need a man to make me happy. Money and sleep will do it. Yeah….that works for me.

See how she runs...

So, I went to my first boot camp this evening and I ran. A lot. I’m not usually a runner. I have to have some impetus like being shot at or being chased by a dinosaur to run. But, tonight I did. I like to think of my running style as a plucky jog – a lot of heart but no style whatsoever and like a train wreck you just have to watch it. So we ran and squatted and did tricep things along the Cairns Esplanade in the late, tropical arvo heat. I was sweating like a pig and was quite happy when we were directed to run to the Esplanade lagoon – that was until burpies were mentioned. What’s a burpy? It's the devils way of making you pay for excess carbs. It’s doing a push up and jumping up then going back down for another push up and then jumping up. Basically on the pukeability scale it’s a 15. After those we jumped in the water to run back and forward across getting in and out of the pool doing burpies continuously.

Will I do it again? Yes, I’m going tomorrow at 6am before work because I like to do things to excess. How do I feel? Crapacious – but as I always say cellulite rebounds and I’ll have another go tomorrow. It's hard to keep a good woman down...though, it depends on what she's going down for I suppose...

Very, very alert...

I had the chance to relax in a spa bath. I was in there for two minutes and it occurred to me what an utter waste of time it was to be in water without swimming let alone be naked before an open window that apparently ‘no one’ can see in. The nudity thing? Fine whatever. It’s your eyesight. If I blind you then more fool you. The relaxation thing? I just feel some people should remain alert but not alarmed. Water? Wash in it. Swim in it. Marinade in it? Ah, no.

Relaxation? As long as I can keep one eye open…

End of the world scenario....

So I spotted this off the side of the road, behind bushes, as I was walking along. One ponders what the red light means. And, if no one can see if it’s on or off, unless they’re a sticky beak like me, what happens when the light is on and no one phones it in? Is it the end of the world?

Wandering off here today…

…Yungaburra - http://www.yungaburra.com/ - first stop the markets to buy fruit/veg, more than likely plants, books and assorted crap that I cannot live without. Then I’m hitting the trail to look at lakes, craters and waterfalls followed by some wildlife spotting and a stay in a local B & B. Life? Get out there amongst it I say.

Toughening up…

I got an email from a friend that confused the hell out of me and frankly wounded me. Being misunderstood does that to you. Especially by friends. Some things just hit you from out of left field and it makes you realize how very little people know or understand you. Finding that out is a good thing. It toughens you up that little bit more. I need that every so often. I move on. Stronger, more wary but infinitely okay with who I am as a person.

‘Stralia Day…

So, on January 26th 1788 this Pommy (English) bloke called Captain Arthur Phillip landed in Sydney with a mob of convicts and started the first known white settlement with a bunch of rule breakers and ne’re do-wells. The Jones family had a couple of ne’re do-wells of their own turn up in chains several years after that and I thank the cosmos that my ancestors had enough sense to either nick things and get transported or they made the decision to leave Scotland for a better life in a new country.

Australia day is about celebrating who we are. Aussies are unique, smart, charming and good looking. There’s nothing we can’t do. And the country? The best in the world. Ask us – we’ll confirm that.

Happy Australia Day from Cairns!

Cop out...

When I read stuff where people blame the government for kids growing up useless and unable to cope with failure and life in general, I think bollocks. Yep, governments are a collective of stupidly, anal people who enjoy dumb arsed antiquated rules. I had a job with the government once. I didn’t last. I have issues with dumb arsed antiquated rules. However, blindly using Big Brother as a scapegoat for personal failure? For kids growing up useless and unable to cope with life? Get real.

When I look at women like my mother who married poor, whose kids wore second hand clothes from the Op shop (goodwill) and those kids accepted that as a fact of life without bitching about it, when my mother had no money for medical bills or food and often went without both for her kids, when she was injured but had to cope with three kids when her Army husband was away on exercises, when her youngest son was bipolar and self destructive – did she blame the government for bi-polar, injury, lack of money or loneliness? No. She soldiered on and made her kids do the same. She didn’t look for handouts. She didn’t over-indulge, spoil her kids or give them false illusions to compensate for life not being perfect. When we failed – we failed and we were taught to get up and on with it.

In my less than humble opinion, there are two types of people – those who will forge on no matter the cost or conquest because they will survive come what may. Then there are the ones who blame everyone but themselves because life is 'unfair.' Sure, blame the government for your own personal inadequacies if you don’t have the guts to take responsibility.

Couple of thoughts...

- I read this job advert this morning. This phrase in the middle of a sentence made me smile ‘we have a no 1 in teamwork concept’. Yes. Exactly. I think that sums up nicely how workplaces are going. ‘It’s not me…it’s you…blame them…I adhere to the no one in teamwork policy.’

- I have been getting an email from a romance reader’s loop advising e-book authors over and over again what the rules are and they’re only to post excerpts or whatever once. That means one time only. Uno. Stick one finger in the air. That's how much we want to read your excerpt. Why do authors have to be reminded of this continuously? Possibly because e-book authors think everyone on the planet wants to read their story. No. No they don’t – hence the rule sweetie.

- Frankly, I don’t want a Mitt or a Newt or an Obama running the US. Get someone with a real name and let’s get serious about saving the world.

- “Experience is the name every one gives to their mistakes.” ~Oscar Wilde....exactly. I have experience to burn, baby.

Men and sex...

I noticed a few e-books companies are branching out with lines that are targeting erotic books towards hetrosexual men. Frankly, I don’t see how they’re going to be successful especially when the majority of them seem to be written by women. Yes, I expect someone is stamping her dainty spiked heel – author speak for bare foot with chipped toenail polish – saying they are selling a million of them – author exaggeration for sales that are a couple of hundred. But a sale is a sale huh?

My thoughts on men. They’re visual creatures. Hence the advent of the archaic wolf whistle, porn magazines, porntube, strip clubs and that moment when you’re walking with a man and you know his dick has led his eyes off in another direction to lust after some long legged busty woman instead of listening to some riveting tale you’re telling him. That’s ok. I get that. I understand men lust after the impossible. It’s like when women buy that dress that is the next size down knowing that they will…probably…maybe…get into it…one skinny day…oh who are we kidding…no, I’m not taking it back yet.

I just don’t see men reading erotica. Women – yes – and I suspect many women will read another woman’s version on what they think a man will read to get his rocks off to get them excited into thinking that’s what a man wants. Crude and simplistic? Yes, but then romance e-book world has become like that. We equate an orgasm to love it seems. There’s nothing wrong with that as long as we’re honest enough to call it sex and not romance.

I would like to know how many men are reading the ‘men’s lines’ that the e-pubs are coming up with – and enjoying them?

Manhunt…

‘Been thinking about romance, as writers do, and plots and how to get him and her together and how much sex should be involved and I stopped and thought about my own life and how I have no romance whatsoever in my life at the moment and how I have no ‘him’ and I really need to rectify that. So, my plan is this year, I will stop running around plotting world domination, working on the pursuit of money and I will get me a ‘him.’ I’m a very single minded person. Write a book? Done. Set up a publishing company? Done. Quit my job and move my entire life to the other end of Australia where I know no one and nothing is familiar? Done. I expect finding a man can’t be any harder. Do I think it’s too late to find romance? No. If you really want something you will get it. It’s all about determination.

I’m putting it out there. I’m on a manhunt.

Walking...

…through the rainforest this morning, looking up at the old, old trees and the sheer mass of the 360 degree mountains around me and once more I wondered how piddly little human beings, with all our supposed power and intellect, manage to stuff up things as we do, yet the rainforest goes on forever.

Depravity…

Adj. 1. depraved - deviating from what is considered moral or right or proper or good;

So a newbie writer asked me what a publisher meant when they listed ‘no depraved acts’ in their submission guidelines. My learned response was ‘I dunno.’ If I had to take a guess I would say the publisher – and not just that one – says that to make them look less like they are accepting porn even if they know they are. You know, it’s like don’t run with scissors but we could if we wanted to and no rule is going to stop us.

What is depraved in the book writing-romance business where the most popular e-books out there are about one woman having sex with 5 men who become werewolves at night? Is that depraved? Multiple partners? Is having sex with step-sisters/brothers/parents depraved? Is shoving ones fist inside a woman’s vagina depraved? Is tying up a woman to break her will into submitting to whatever her punisher wants depraved? Is mock rape as titillation depraved? They’re all been written about and published right now. I would suggest depravity abounds.

“We will accept no stories depicting acts of depravity”…oh bullshit. Depravity sells. Publishers know it. My advice? If you’ve written something considered depraved submit it anyway. I bet the publisher takes it.

Riiight....

Cairns is a interesting place when it comes to the roads. No, they’re in good condition. Yes, it’s easy to get around. What’s the problem then? I haven’t been here long enough to drive like a local. To do that you must –

- never ever indicate if you want to change lanes. Just do it.
- if it’s a four lane street and you don’t want to drive in any of those lanes then hell yeah use the bike lane and make it your own or cross over the cement traffic island if you can’t be bothered waiting.
- pull out of all a sudden. No really, I just love surprises.
- drive really, really, really slow.

And it’s not just the drivers – it’s the pedestrians. There is a severe problem with jay-walking in Cairns. It’s a bloody laid back town. Add a bunch of stoned or dumb arsed backpackers who are invincible and you have a game of dodgems. A lot of people get run down exercising their democratic right to wander aimlessly across the road like Brown’s cows.

But the best one? That was today. I’m driving along and I pass a man on a bicycle. He’s holding a chainsaw in one hand on his shoulder and the other hand is gripping a lawn edger and one handlebar. Riiight. I rang a friend and said what I saw. He wasn’t surprised. Well hell, it’s Cairns after all. Any more laidback they’d be comatose.

Lovely man clone...

I told a male friend today that he was a lovely man and he should be cloned and handed out to each woman. I see nothing wrong with that. We all need to feel good.

Yes, I’m responsible for the naked…

…woman on Isobel Goddard’s Duct Tape and Feathers. It’s a Scarlet Harlot story. It’s full of sex and sin and all those good things. Oh, and she’s naked. Well, you can see that. As did others and it caused a problem. Yes, I take full responsibility and I have apologised to the good people at All Romance E-books for the naked cover. Why did I do it? Well, it was late at night, I was tired and I was setting up the story to be published. On the book sites, as you put in the necessary info to publish, you tick and flick boxes – how hot, how naked, is it active, what files etc. I ticked the wrong box when came to nudity. The story went live and all her bits were on display. Nudity has to be approved. She wasn’t approved. So, the story got suspended along with the account. Bugger. Yes I should have paid attention. Yes, I’m a bad girl. Good friend Isobel called me a ‘plonker.’ She’s a Pom (English). Plonker is like nonghead. So yeah, I’ve had to do some apologising today but mistakes happen and I take responsibility. We’ll see what happens with the account.

In the interim, Duct Tape and Feathers can be bought here – http://www.bookstrand.com/duct-tape-and-feathers

All three of Isobel’s stories - Forbidden Relations - can be bought here –

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B006XZ2CQQ

As for nudity – tick the right box...

Years ago….

…there were these three writers who set up this Yahoo group so they could chat/bitch amongst themselves about writing, other writers, publishers etc. Nothing unusual there except they forgot to lock their posts and they went viral and the whole romance e-book community read a lot of stuff they weren’t meant to. Oh dear. Anyway, one of their posts I read had one of them saying something along the lines of she was off to ‘write porn.’ Yes. An e-book romance writer saying that. Shock. Horror. Ho hum. I remember that post, along with the many others I have filed away, because the writer chick who wrote it was at least honest. The more stories that get subbed to Scarlet Harlot Publishing the more I realize e-book land is equating porn for romance, in ever increasing amounts, and I’m not seeing that same parallel with established print book market. It asks the question - are e-book writers money hungry I-do-anything-for-a-buck writers? Yes. Are they pandering to women who are tired of ‘normal’ sex? I believe so. Are e-books, as one person pointed out to me, ‘corrupting the moral fabric of society’? My answer to that is for corruption to work, people must be open to temptation and you cannot corrupt without need or greed.

My point? As much as I have been thinking about the stuff that gets sent to me – and no, Harlot is not technically open for submissions because I barely have time to spit - I find I am led by business sense and the lure of $$ when it comes to publishing. Yes, I will and have published e-book porn/romance and make no apologies for it.

E-book land - Welcome to temptation.

If you don’t ask you don’t get...

Last Friday, when I went to the reef for snorkelling, I had to park, Verity, my car, in the city council parking lot. You have to put money into a ticket machine and because I was going to be there all day, it was going to be a high parking fee as opposed to a humungous parking fine. So I shoved money into one ticket machine expecting a ticket to spit out. It jammed and refused to give me back my money. I may have sworn a lot. I went to the next machine. Same thing – jamming, swearing and generally pissed-offedness. Like Goldilocks I went to the last machine and finally it worked and I got a ticket.

Now, the Jones family rarely ever shut up if there is something wrong so I emailed the Cairns City Council and explained I wanted my lost money back. Some people said I had Buckley’s (no chance) but I knew the power of my email writing skills. I got an email back from the Council today advising they would refund the money and they’re sorry about the inconvenience. See? You can fight City Hall. Thank you Cairns Council.

Jones family motto - If you don’t ask you don’t get. Got a problem? Seek a response. You may just be surprised.

Set the bar…

I walked into the kitchen at work the other day and there were about a dozen grungy, old coffee cups littering the kitchen bench. I walked out of the kitchen and made an announcement to the office staff along that lines of whoever had dumped the coffee cups out here needs to ‘get their arse back into the kitchen and clean them.’ This was met by a quiet ‘Okay.' It’s a predominantly male office. Before I turned up as Office Manager the previous person in the position used to wash up and – shock-frigging-horror-no-fucking-way used to make everyone coffee when they asked for it. And let's not even talk about the cake baking 'for the boys'. I think her name was Door Mat. This all stopped when I came into power. My point is this. Male dominated offices need to be whipped in to shape. Men have no bloody idea about women so give them a clue with a capital C. Establish the rules. I will not clean, cook, fetch or carry. I will not be spoken to like I’m an idiot. I can verbally, in a polite, succinct way, kick you arse from here to the front door if you push me so think before you speak. If you allow yourself to be treated like a domestic slave in the office once, it becomes a pattern and other women who follow up suffer for it. Don’t do it.

Really, I’m a sweet little thing…

Dragged backwards through a bush...

I do not understand this fashion where women wear these short shorts with the pockets hanging past the end of the denim. It’s not an attractive. It makes them look like they’ve been dragged backwards through a bush. How is this look beautiful? Worse still, the very overweight are wearing them. I thought curvaceous women had more sense and avoided the scrag clothes their skinny counterparts wore. Clearly not. Whichever fashioner designer/diva/guru/wanker came up with this fashion obviously hates women.

Say no to fashion designers….

Elmer Fudd, 1950 & 2003

Off hunting rabbits...interestingly enough I used to work with a bloke who looked exactly like this...he wasn't as smart though...

Frog Patrol…

I’ve been given an important job. It’s a responsibility I take very seriously. I am, in essence, in charge of the lives of many. I am on Frog Patrol.

Friends have gone away for a couple of days. Can I put out the bin? Check. Can I be in charge of the fate of dozens of green frog tadpoles who are making their first steps into the hazardous journey of life in the rainforest. Ummm…probably. Actually it’s very simple once it’s been explained to you 57 times and you have asked every dumb question known. There are two large plastic tubs. In tub one you have the tadpoles who are growing legs. In tub two you have tadpoles who have fours legs and are just about to drop their tails and head off into the world. Basically, I have to feed those in tub one and pick out any with four legs and put them in tub two so when they get the urge they can hit the road and find out what life is all about. I know. Huge responsibility and despite Wayne, my ex-pet budgie doing a runner, animals and no doubt green frogs, generally like my half arsed approached to life.

Now you’re asking how does one get to raise green frogs and why should we do it? Well, these friends, good hearted souls that they are, know what green frog eggs look like and when they see them in their back yard, usually after rain, they carefully put them in tubs and help them grow up. Why? Because green frogs are endangered and their main predator is the cane toad that is a pest and a plague in Queensland. So ipso facto, give the green frogs a chance to live and grow up so the world can be a better place. Pretty simple.

The viability of virginity…

I don’t know whether you’ve noticed but virgins are everywhere at the moment…at the least in romance land they are. You have the too stupid to live virgin who doesn’t get the hero is after her arse until she is flat on her back under him and then you have the oh-my-god-I-need-to-lose-it virgin. Oh, and let’s not forget the virgin who stumbles across the shape shifting wolf pack of five who need a virgin for whatever half arsed reason to make their lives complete. Why so many virgins? Is it a fad? Do we want to see innocence corrupted? Do we want to go ‘aww, how sweet’ and ‘bloody hell, he’s going to put all that into her?’ Yes, yes and yes. Frankly, romance writing world has become cruder than I’ve ever seen it. Why is that? I pondered this question with a male friend. What is it women want? Why are we reading virgin books? Do we want to remember when? Do we want to see the virgin literally shafted by a wolf pack of five men? Do we see virginity as an expendable commodity to be made money out of? Do we not value innocence anymore? I don’t know. He was very quiet on the subject. Smart man.

I have to admit that this - http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thevirginsale-668537-144.html Scarlet Harlot story that was subbed to me by an old Pommy (English) friend made me think about where I stood on the issue. Do I publish what I believe is romance or do I not be a prissy prude and say to hell with it? It may seem old fashioned but we – and I include myself - seem to be manipulating everything that has an ounce of purity in it into some dirty erotica story and branding it as romance to sell to women. As I said to my male friend, you have to wonder what women want. Tenderness? Passion? Or in the Aussie vernacular a good root and onto the next man? Is that romance or are we beyond that now if there is the promise of an orgasm?

The Reef....

I went and took a squiz at one of the natural wonders of the world. The Great Barrier Reef. It’s amazing and beautiful. Although you can still see some damage from where Cyclone Yasi came through around this time last year, it’s still amazing with the pink, blue, purple and vivid yellow of the coral. I snorkelled for hours. Coming to Australia? Come to Cairns and see the Reef. One thing to remember - wear sunscreen. The Aussie sun can rip the hide off of you. I noticed the Aussies slapping it on and wearing hats. But the tourists? A lot of melanomas heading back overseas.

Fantastic day…

Sexy as...

A really excellent movie...if you like sexy men, subtle humour, complex characters and a good plot this is the one for you...loved it.

A shapeshifter, a vampire and a girl with a daddy fetish walk into a bar...

I’m usually not home when chats on author/reader loops are done as they’re done in Yankee time and that conflicts with Aussie time. In the past, I have managed to get to a few. To be absolutely honest, they’re usually a waste of time. Why? Well, a bunch of authors turn up and post excerpts of their books and other authors comment on how good the excerpt was and how they’d ‘love to read it’. Then it goes around in a circle until everyone has done the obligatory excerpt and murmured the loving it thing. No really, attend one and you’ll know what I mean. There are usual questions like ‘what is your favourite character in what book?’ ‘Do you have a muse?’ ‘A favourite story?’ or ‘are you wearing red socks, a pink pegnoir and a knitted beanie while sipping cinnamon flavoured tea?’ Ydah, ydah, ydah…

So I attended one today due to the fact I have a couple of days off over the Christmas break and that the author who was having the chat is one of the few authors I like, respect and admire. But oh lordy…it was hard work. It begs the question are these chats outdated? Do readers really care about what the author was feeling when she wrote the scene where the hero X, who is a wombat shape-shifter and older than the heroine which fits in with her Daddy fetish, shagged the stuffing out of Y, an overly beautiful virgin who dreams of being the toy of many boys before going into politics and/or being a rock star’s girlfriend, in a non tacky way while a pack of gay vampires watch on awaiting their turn with the shape shifting wombat all the time knowing they have to do it before daylight? Hmmm? I tend to write the author off as being on powerful medication or playing with her/himself. Unless you are a JK Rowing or the like you’re probably not going to draw many people to these chats to listen to you espouse your feelings on why wolf pack rape is acceptable if the heroine actually believes all 6 shape-shifting wolves really love her.

There’s got to be a better way than these tired-arsed chats…

Old friends...

I was talking to Katie, an old friend – I should clarify that – she’s 11 years younger than me – but oh, an old soul. I have a feeling we’ve met up in several lives and caused amazing havoc together. She hated me on sight and at the time my thoughts about her were something along the lines of ‘stick it in your ear, sister.’ But that changed when we recognized the potential in the other. Anyway, no matter how long since we last spoke, it’s like it was only yesterday. Doncha love people like that? You don’t need to explain yourself or ask them questions. You both just get each other. Priceless. And the battles we fought together – most were righteous but some? Just because we could – I love a good stousch. Count me in.

I was thinking about good, real friends and those we can count on and I realized I could tick them off on the fingers of one hand. I mentioned this to someone else and they agreed. Strange how out of the thousands of people we meet only a handful who we trust. Funny old world.

“A friend is someone who understands your past, believes in your future, and accepts you just the way you are.” ~ unknown

Shooting dicks off....

So, I watched a bit of The Bold and The Beautiful today. I haven’t watched it in ages and from what I can work out pretty much everything is the same as it was when I last saw it maybe a year ago but for the fact that one of the characters was committed to being a virgin until she married. I know. Fancy that. Anyway, I expect that will soon change and I’m guessing the virgin’s suddenly ex-fiancé who gave her engagement ring to her trashy, arch nemesis, because she slept with him and the virgin didn’t and that apparently gets you a whopping great diamond ring, will contemplate the possibilities of having sex – but – I reckon the father of the bloke who threw the virgin over due to the need to penetrate and who also slept with the trashy arch nemesis, I expect will soon sleep with the pure at heart virgin because first up the father can and probably to show her and everyone else what a real man can do. I also expect he will fall in love with the virginal one who will spurn him because she finds out his evil plan to de-virginate her – possibly a made up word – and then she will get drunk and maybe shoot him in the dick but everyone will forgive her because she’s a virgin…or was…or you know…it’s complicated yet obvious.

Anyway this brings me to another point that a friend and I had a long online discussion about today and that is does being physically/facially beautiful make life more easy for you? We came to the conclusion that it does. Why? Because you have to use what weapons you have to get what you what. Yes, yes, very manipulative but there it is. What does that have to do with drunken, dick shooting off spurned virgins? Not a lot other than if you're a man you should probably watch out for virgins with guns.

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Sore back…

…cut hands, bruised legs and aching arms…doncha’ love it when you have time off from paid work? Just a shame I have to go back next week and sit on my arse and shuffle paper while looking like I vaguely care. It’s a hard job but someone has to be adequate at it.

Last night…

…on New Year’s eve, I declared what I was aiming to do with my life this year. I spoke the words to a person I sort of knew. They looked at me as if I had lost my mind. Maybe I have. But maybe some people will always aim low and cannot understand what they perceive as madness in others is a restless to get more out of life. Whatever. I’m tired of pissing around. I want more. And people you sort of know? One ponders the question do you really need to sort of know them? The answer? No.

Happy New Year. Be safe and dream big.