Sunday Puzzle

It's Sunday again, and you know what that means—time for me to rip off the puzzle segment from NPR's Weekend Edition Sunday!

Mustachioed enigmatologist

extraordinaire, Will Shortz

If you're a newcomer, each week on Weekend Edition Sunday, Will Shortz (the hardcore crossword puzzlers' almighty God) comes on the radio to do three things: share the solution to the previous week's puzzle, invite a winner who entered the correct answer to play another puzzle (usually word-related) on the air for word-nerdy prizes, and present everyone with the next week's puzzle (answers due in by Thursday afternoon via the WES website if you want a chance to play on the air).

Note: I never post the solutions on this blog. I see lots of keyword traffic coming from people looking for the answers, which is at best impatient, and at worst, cheating. For shame.

Now without further ado, here's this week's new puzzle:

From Michael Arkelian, of Sacramento, Calif.: Name a creature in six letters. Move the first three letters to the end and read the result backward to name another creature. Clue: If you break either six-letter word in half, each pair of three letters will themselves spell a word.

Click here to see the original puzzle posting, check the answer to last week's challenge, listen to the segment, or find the link to enter your answer.

Bird-Nerdery at Halibut Point

Someone else's lovely picture of a northern gannet,
about to fold up and dive.

Went to Halibut Point in Rockport this morning to do a little birdspotting. Normally you can expect to see groups of bufflehead ducks floating in the choppy ocean or flying past on their migration routes (they summer in the arctic and spend their winters in the comparably balmy northern states), and daredevil harlequin ducks traveling dangerously close to the rocky coast in wave-tossed clumps. We didn't spot either of those usual suspects today, though we did see a quality group of juncos (mixed flavors) out in the open grass near the bushes, passing mergansers skimming the sea, and several gannets. The gannets were the highlight. At first glance it's easy to mistake them for gulls out in the distance, cruising over the waves, but for starters they fly a bit more athletically than gulls. Then they rise. Then they commit suicide. Well, they don't, but it looks that way. A gannet will spot a fish, rise up in the air, then tip over, fold up like an umbrella and shoot downard to dive deep into the water. We got some great ogling done with the binoculars, and braving the cold coastal wind was well worth the chapped hands and runny noses.

Thrusty Thursday: Gene Kelly

I don't even know what to say about this one. I'm pretty sure Gene Kelly is one of the foxiest foxes who ever foxed. And he can foxtrot! I mean, he's handsome, built, a scary-talented dancer, he can sing… I could go on forever.

I first fell for Gene Kelly when I saw Singin' in the Rain. Then I fell again over An American in Paris. Then On the Town. Then…

Dude can make a musical macho. Oh yes, he can. It might be the thighs…but in truth I think it's the charisma, and that magic you feel when you're watching someone doing something they're truly gifted at. I've heard he was a pretty brutal taskmaster on set with his female dance partners, but he can break me down and reduce me to tears any day. But enough about me. Let's just watch the man in action, courtesy of someone else's excellent dance montage:

My Secret Girly Weakness

If you know me, you may be shouting "Top Model!" or, "Pointy-toed flats!" or, "Drinking an entire bottle of white wine by yourself when you accept a new contract!" But none of those is the female vice I'm talking about today.

Some personal favorites, left to right: Armani's Mania,

Chanel's Chance, Calvin Klein's Contradiction, Origins'

Shedonism, and Demeter's Gingerale.

Today I thought I'd chat about perfume.

Rethinking my stodgy daily routines, I went on a late run today, hoping to maximize my creative morning hours and hence my word count. It worked well, incidentally. Taking that change-mindedness a step further, after I took my shower I glanced at my faithful bottle of Armani's Mania and thought, "I think I'm in the mood for something else today." And off to the secret cabinet of shame I flounced!

The shame cabinet (Ikea, $5.99) is not as shame-filled as it once was, I'd like to assert; I've pared down my erstwhile shocking collection to a half dozen tried-and-true fragrances. I used to be easily seduced by pretty bottles, but I've wised up. Nothing's more useless than a perfume whose smell you can't stand…though I do still remember vividly a gorgeous bottle of rather rancid-smelling Modern, by Banana Republic. In fact, I just Googled it and I almost wanted to buy it all over again, just looking at that nifty atomizer and textured glass. Settle, self. Yet looking at the issue from the other direction, even if I discover the best smelling perfume ever this very afternoon, I don't think I'd buy it if it came in a fugly, chintzy bottle or bore the name of a pop star.

I still remember my very first real fragrance—Heaven by the Gap. I still have a little travel bottle of it, which I frequently use, though it fades almost immediately so it's largely fallen out of my favor. But I like it still for the same reasons I liked it the very first time I got my nostrils near it: it didn't smell like flowers or powder (unlike my Romantic Rose Teen Spirit deodorant). It smelled like soap and cleanness. And it smelled like grown-upness to my fifteen-year-old self.

Today I'm wearing Contradiction, by Calvin Klein, from the very bottle I bought when I was a junior in high school. At $90 for the real-deal eau de parfum, I believe it was the most expensive singular thing I'd ever bought for myself at the time. I saved up money from several paychecks at my first job at the local record and video store, and I cherished that bottle. I've been cherishing it for about fourteen years now, so clearly it was a sound investment. It's a nifty bottle, too—the cap's got a magnet in it! Tip for perfume newbies: if you love a scent, buy the eau de parfum over the eau de toilette whenever possible, even if the price tag smacks of highway robbery. You'll use way less and it'll last longer.

One scent I've hung onto despite its lack of lingering power is Demeter's Gingerale "pick-me-up" spray. It really does smell like gingerale, and it's fabulous. Doesn't last long, but it always gets great compliments and it's unlike anything else I've found.

A scent I also like which is almost too lingery is Shedonism by Origins. A stupid name, but a wonderful fragrance, not like anything I've smelled elsewhere. I actually discovered it when I asked a woman on the subway what she was wearing. I don't usually like flower-based perfumes, but the tiare scent plus bergamot is gorgeous…if a bit potent. I can't spray it directly on myself, as the atomizer's too excitable and the oils (it's marketed as a "floral essence" as opposed to an eau de toilette) don't fade like an alcohol-based fragrance. I have to finesse the sprayer until a bead of it forms, then dab that on. Any more is just too strong.

Oh another quick tip: shop for fragrances on eBay or designer auction sites. Perfume has one of the highest mark-ups in manufacturing, but you can frequently get a great deal on an "opened, used once" bottle that someone bought or received as a gift, only to discover it wasn't for them.

Somewhat related, for a long, long time my mom has waxed nostalgic over her favorite perfume, now extinct—Hypnotique (Max Factor, 1958). So a couple of years ago I tracked a bottle down via a British thrift shop's rickety website. It was a tricky prospect…I mean they stopped making it in the eighties, so the bottle I bought was at least twenty years old. But it was my mom's sixtieth birthday so I took a chance. It paid off. She says it smells exactly how she remembers, and she wears it at least once a week.

Another personal favorite of mine is Chanel's Chance. It's pretty and complex, but I only wear it if I'm dressing up for a wedding or what passes for a classy party in my exceedingly casual circle of friends. Chance smells too…too dressed up for everyday wear. Still, it's lovely when I find an excuse to dab some on.

nilly the way I used to. The one that got me to settle down. It's a light but sexy perfume featuring, to quote the designer's blurb, "laurel, mandarin, and pink spice combined with feminine notes of lily of the valley, peony, and contemporary cedar, amber, and musk". No clue what pink spice or contemporary cedar are, but the overall effect is great, as far as my nose is concerned. One spray is exactly the right amount, and it's an eau de parfum so it lasts nicely. Pretty bottle, too.

So that's it. Anyone else got a favorite go-to scent?

For now, I'm off to indulge another girlie vice—I've just discovered that Say Yes to the Dress is on Netflix Instant Watcher. The wine in the kitchen and my dwindling afternoon hours don't stand a chance.

Sunday Puzzle

It's Sunday again, and you know what that means—time for me to rip off the puzzle segment from NPR's Weekend Edition Sunday!

Mustachioed enigmatologist

extraordinaire, Will Shortz

If you're a newcomer, each week on Weekend Edition Sunday, Will Shortz (the hardcore crossword puzzlers' almighty God) comes on the radio to do three things: share the solution to the previous week's puzzle, invite a winner who entered the correct answer to play another puzzle (usually word-related) on the air for word-nerdy prizes, and present everyone with the next week's puzzle (answers due in by Thursday afternoon via the WES website if you want a chance to play on the air).

Note: I never post the solutions on this blog. I see lots of keyword traffic coming from people looking for the answers, which is at best impatient, and at worst, cheating. For shame.

Now without further ado, here's this week's new puzzle:

Name the capital of a country. Rearrange the letters to spell a word that sounds the same as the name of another country. To approach the puzzle backward, name a country that has a homophone that is an anagram of a different country's capital. What country and what capital city are they?

Click here to see the original puzzle posting, check the answer to last week's challenge, listen to the segment, or find the link to enter your answer.

Recipe: Easy Pizza

Easy, but not quick. The crust requires an hour of thoughtful, yeasty rumination, so plan for this to take about two hours from start to om nom nom.

For dough you'll need:

1 packet active dry yeast

¾ cup hot water (not boiling, just as hot as the tap will go)
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat flour (or use two cups all-purpose flour, just don't use all whole wheat flour—the dough won't be very elastic)
3 tbsp. olive oil
1 tsp. salt
2 tsp. dried rosemary
more olive oil

You can go nuts with the toppings, but my favorites are:

12 oz. marinara sauce
2 fistfuls baby spinach
2 sausage links, sliced (I like Trader Joe's Spicy Italian Chicken Sausage)
3 oz. chevre (soft goat cheese)
8 oz. shredded mozzarella cheese
red pepper flakes

Serves 3–4

1. Turn on Joni Mitchell's Court and Spark. Sing along loudly and shamelessly for best results.

2. In a large liquid measuring cup, stir yeast into hot water. Let sit five minutes to activate the yeast.

3. In a mixing bowl, combine flour, olive oil, salt and rosemary. Stir water / yeast mixture again, scraping bottom of measuring cup, then pour it into the bowl and mix ingredients with a fork. Coat hands in more olive oil and knead mixture thoroughly (two minutes or no). Coat hands again and form dough into a ball. Leave dough in bowl and cover bowl with a cloth or towel. Set near a warm radiator if possible—heat helps the dough rise. Leave to rise for an hour.

4. Preheat oven to 375°. Switch to Joni Mitchell's The Hissing of Summer Lawns.

5. Note, if dough isn't crazy-puffy and risen, that's okay. It'll still taste good. With a palmful of olive oil, grease a cookie sheet. Place dough in center of sheet and use your oiled hands to spread it evenly to the edges. Leave it alone for five minutes to re-rise and contract, then spread it back to the edges of the sheet again.

6. Coat crust evenly with marinara sauce, then spinach, then evenly space sausages slices and small chunks of goat cheese. Cover with mozzarella cheese and sprinkle with red pepper flakes.

7. Place pizza in center of oven and bake for roughly 20–30 minutes, until both the cheese and the bottom of the crust (you can peek with a spatula) are golden brown. Remove and let cool for five minutes, then cut with scissors or a pizza cutter.

Angry Birds…Halloween!

Just as I was lamenting finishing Angry Birds, what does Rovio do but come out with a special Halloween installment! And not just a few measly holiday-themed screens, but an entire episode (as the game calls its collections of levels).

Let me back up. For those who don't know what Angry Birds is, it's the awesomest game I've played in a long time…well, since Machinarium. Which wasn't all that long ago. But it's way different than that! I explained it a bit in an older post so I won't go into it here, except to say that if you've got an iPhone or iPad, go and get it now! The App Store charges a pittance for it, and I suspect that when the Android version is released it'll be free, much the way the original game was. Here's a little taste of its spooktasticalz:

Thrusty Thursday: John Wayne Parr

I can has muse! I mentioned on Tuesday I'm fleshing out the hero of my next romance proposal, a martial artist. It's always nice to find a face and sometimes a body to assign to a character as they're taking shape in one's head. I know a ton of writers who do this—some even have entire binders crammed with print-outs and clippings of their visual character inspirations, past, present and future.

For some writers a picture can jumpstart their imaginations, and for others they're more like illustrations, helping the writer visualize a nuanced facial expression or the flex of a particular muscle to better transcribe it into words. I even know authors who go the Frankenstein route, taking, say, Antonio Banderas's face and mentally taping it onto David Beckham's body, maybe adding Vin Diesel's voice. Lucky for me I found both the face and body of my latest muse in one handy package.

Said package's name is John Wayne Parr, and he's a 34-year-old Australian middleweight Muay Thai kickboxing champ. He's made researching this book really quite pleasant. Though my characters tend to evolve as I write and rarely resemble their original inspirations by the time the book is finished, I suspect I will very much enjoy letting Parr rattle about in my skull in the coming weeks.

And while my hero-in-progress isn't an Aussie, Parr is, so let's not waste a chance to ogle his accent. Here's a pre-fight interview from a match in 2008:



Oh and he won, incidentally.

Rich Man, Poor Man

I'll take the poor man, please!

I've been thinking about this for the past week or so…my next Blaze proposal is taking shape in my head, and I'm busy fleshing out my hero. I suspect he's going to be a professional fighter (of the martial artist / boxer persuasion) and I'm pondering the consequences of this choice. I've written fighters before, largely because they turn me on like all-get-out. It's not a job that pays well, however, so my fighters tend to have day jobs to get by. But for Harlequin…is that enough?

In mainstream romance, readers want their heroes to be providers. Not billionaire tycoons necessarily (though sometimes, yes, and of the Greek variety) but they want to feel confident that the man is willing and prepared to support the heroine once they fall for each other. This is problematic for me, as wealth turns me off. Give me a man with a five o'clock shadow in an undershirt and jeans over a styled specimen any day of the week. In fact, let's explore this visually:

My thanks to empireonline.com for the pic.

Well, that was the easiest choice ever. Though admittedly, Hugh Jackman seems to be pretty lousy at shaving, so finding a clean-cut picture of him was a challenge. Oh, how I suffered.

Where was I? Right, conspicuous wealth turns me off. Big slick houses turn me off as well, as do fancy cars and jobs such as "investment banker" and "millionaire entrepreneur". I like my men with tangible, physical jobs. Partly because sweaty, capable men are sexy and dependable. And partly because physical jobs handily explain a hero's standard-issue unreasonably abstastic physique.

For my alter ego and her erotica heroes, this isn't an issue. If the sex is crazy hot, a hero can live in a modest apartment and readers don't seem worried about it. But with romance there's more emphasis on the future and everything the couple is embarking on together, going forward. Whether I like it or not, a low-earning hero can be perceived as weak. No reader wants to worry what might happen if the heroine loses her job or their future child requires an expensive procedure and God forbid the hero can't step up. And if the reader finishes the story still worried about the characters, it's not a happily ever after.

So as much as I'd like to stick my scrappy, martial artist hero in a studio apartment and toss my heroine toward him, the majority of mainstream romance readers aren't going to be satisfied by that. My solution in this story's case is to give the hero money in the form of inherited wealth. He's rich—check. But in this case, the money was inherited from a father my hero resents deeply, money the hero refuses to touch because it represents everything he hates about his relationship with his absentee dad. Yes! He's loaded, yet he can live well below his actual means, relying on whatever he makes from his modest day job salary to preserve his pride. But we all know if the heroine suddenly needed a million-dollar operation, he'd pony up. So I get the working-class scrapper I love, and the reader gets the security of knowing the hero does have the financial means to provide under catastrophic circumstances. I'm very pleased by this brainwave.

Well, that's enough bloggage for now. Back to research! And yes, that means watching videos online of muscly, sweaty men beating each other senseless. God, I love this job.

Sunday Puzzle

It's Sunday again, and you know what that means—time for me to rip off the puzzle segment from NPR's Weekend Edition Sunday!

Mustachioed enigmatologist

extraordinaire, Will Shortz

If you're a newcomer, each week on Weekend Edition Sunday, Will Shortz (the hardcore crossword puzzlers' almighty God) comes on the radio to do three things: share the solution to the previous week's puzzle, invite a winner who entered the correct answer to play another puzzle (usually word-related) on the air for word-nerdy prizes, and present everyone with the next week's puzzle (answers due in by Thursday afternoon via the WES website if you want a chance to play on the air).

Note: I never post the solutions on this blog. I see lots of keyword traffic coming from people looking for the answers, which is at best impatient, and at worst, cheating. For shame.

Now without further ado, here's this week's new puzzle:

Rearrange the 14 letters of "OPENING CREDITS" to name two symbols you can type on a typewriter or computer. What symbols are these?

Click here to see the original puzzle posting, check the answer to last week's challenge, listen to the segment, or find the link to enter your answer.

I can has podcast!

Just wanted to share that I recently recorded an interview for a podcast as part of Harlequin's So You Think Can Write? event (November 1–5). Myself and two other new Harlequin authors are sharing our journeys en route to getting published in the recording titled How I Became a Romance Writer. It will be available for streaming and downloading on November 1 at 3pm EST, plus I'll be sure to embed it here on the blog if technology allows. Couldn't tell you what I actually said, as I was too nervous to retain any memories of the interview, but I'm fairly confident I didn't make an ass of myself.

The SYTYCW event is a great opportunity for aspiring writers targeting the romance genre. Here's the gist, from the Harlequin blog:

Does your imagination run wild with vivid characters? Have you ever dreamed of becoming a USA TODAY bestselling author? Well, our editors want to make those dreams come true. We are hungry to find talented new writers for Harlequin Books. Through podcasts, blogs, and discussions with our expert editors and current authors, we’re going to help you understand the appeal of the romance genre. And there’s a special daily challenge with feedback that will give some great insights into crafting the perfect story. So for the next week, come by to hone your skills and get started on the path to publication. So you think you can write? Here’s your chance to show us!

Awesome, no? I think this is a super-helpful thing for folks who are in the shoes I myself was wearing two years ago. One of the best tools I found when I was targeting Blaze was the Ask the Editors podcast series (I think the audio files may be having technical issues at the moment, but stay tuned). Those provide not only a glimpse at the various lines' requirements, but some insight into what the individual editors are interested in as well, nuances you won't find in the regular writing guidelines. Anyhow, I hope what I had to say will help another aspiring author embarking on this occasionally mystifying journey.

Mike doing what he does best…

…procrastinating like hell then signing himself up for extra credit assignments that border on masochism. Now that's a writer! Without further ado, please welcome Mike Myers for a quickie guest post.

Okay, special treat for everyone today. The New England Chapter of Romance Writers of America is holding their annual First Kiss Contest. The deadline had been extended until October 15th at midnight, which is tonight. So in true procrastinator style I put off writing the scene as long as possible. Now I've awakened to discover that the entry is due today and I've written nothing. And of course this couldn't be on a kid-free weekend where I can focus on writing ten pages and getting it out the virtual door (don't you love the invention of the e-mail submission?). No, today is a work day, and a Friday no less. On top of that it's a kid night to boot so I have my work cut out for me.  So what would anyone with any common sense do on a day like this? Why add a little more onto the pile of course, so not only will I be writing and editing a contest submission from scratch, but I'll be writing a companion article on it as well to share with my Procrastinator's Guide readership (yup, all eight or so of you).

Here's my challenge to all of you. If you're an unpubbed newbie like myself, head on over to http://www.necrwa.org/kisscontest.html and enter the contest as well. Chances are you probably already have the scene written, and even if you don't, you're in the same boat as me except without an article to write. I'm throwing down the gauntlet. You don't want some talentless hack (and a guy no less) to have any legitimate shot at finaling in a contest with a submission he threw together at the last minute, right? (Hey, it could happen.) So get motivated, roll up your writing sleeves, polish up that first kiss scene, search the couch cushions for the $15 entrance fee and make sure you check back later for a recap on how my own Contest-a-palooza Day of Joy turned out. And remember, don't put off until tomorrow that which can be put off even longer.

Thrusty Thursday: Sir David Attenborough

Sir David in 1956.

Admittedly, it feels just a bit weird suggesting we all thrust against one of my idols…particularly as he's well into his eighties. But if pressed to name the dreamiest man ever, I honestly can't think of one who makes me swoon more than David Attenborough.

Let's just start with his titles, shall we? To get technical, his name looks like this:

Sir David Frederick Attenborough OM, CH, CVO, CBE, FRS, FZS, FSA

Overachieve much, Davey? But I forgive you. After all, you mucked around all over the world in your khakis and light blue button-up to bring nature and natural history to life for the millions upon millions of people who've enjoyed your documentaries, books, and recordings. My favorites are predictably the bird-nerdiest ones—Attenborough in Paradise and the Life of Birds series (both available to stream on Netflix Instant Watcher).

Let's see the man in action! Here's a clip that fuses three of my favorite things ever: David Attenborough, birds, and New Zealand:



Oh, Davey…swoon! I could go on all day, but I won't. Again, if you have Netflix, there are hours and hours of Attenborough's BBC documentaries available to stream. And now I'll close by leaving you all with what I like to call the famous Albatrossenborough photo:

Greetings from Minnesota!

Quick post. I'm in Minnesota for a few days visiting one of my old penguin-wrangling cohorts from my aquarium days. We're way out in the boonies in her charming little village, which is basically run by her mom and stepdad. The beating heart of town is the BP gas station, where I'll shortly be grabbing a coffee (16 ounces for 95¢!) before we take a walk.

This is my third and final day here, and may I just say, Minnesota rocks. Garrison Keillor always had me believing it, but now I know for sure. We're out in farm country, and so far I've met guinea hens, regular chickens, a rooster, several cows dressed as Oreos, a gazillion barn cats, four horses, a half dozen dogs, three turkeys, and who-knows-how-many no-see-ums. I got to take a guided tour of my friend's childhood, and see where she was crowned Butter Queen. It's also homecoming week so the town is very bustley and excitable, plus the fall foliage is putting on a good show.

Yesterday I got to shoot skeet for the first time ever. Despite growing up in Maine, I was never a hunting gal, but I'd done target shooting before, with both a rifle and a hand gun. The shotgun was heavier than anything I'd held before, and I tucked the butt against my armpit, not my shoulder, for the first couple shots, so I now have a lovely black bruise as a souvenir. But on the bright side, I hit two of the dozen or so pigeons I took aim at, which I think is pretty respectable for a first attempt.

We later got burgers at a place called Guenther's (delicious) and went bowling in the MSU student center. I was hoping to break a hundred, but I think I only got 94…though I did get to do my strike dance. I used the hot-pink wussy ball, and the end of my thumb nail came off. Still, it was nice to do some proper bowling for a change, as I live in Massachusetts where candlepin is mistaken for "real" bowling. Sorry, Mass, but you're just wrong on that one.

Today we're planning on doing a little mini-golfing, so I'm getting to indulge in all sorts of awesome non-sports. I'm later meeting some more of my friend's relatives, some of which have a whole house full of animals, including, it has been alleged, some button quails in the basement. Not sure if a basement is the best place to raise quails, but I'm curious to get my hands on them if the opportunity presents itself. After that we're swinging by the town's bar to buy a six-pack, then it's off to a bonfire.

This morning, post BP coffee, I'm recording my part of a podcast for Harlequin. Ooh, my first audio interview! I'll be chatting about how I got into writing, and about my first Blaze book, Caught on Camera. Two other new Harlequin authors will also be taking part, and the podcast will be out next month. I'm wretched at public speaking, but luckily this will be more like a casual conversation, so I think I'll do just fine.

Better get some Cheerios in me. Minnesota waits for no woman.

Sunday Puzzle

It's Sunday again, and you know what that means—time for me to rip off the puzzle segment from NPR's Weekend Edition Sunday!

Mustachioed enigmatologist 

extraordinaire, Will Shortz 

If you're a newcomer, each week on Weekend Edition Sunday, Will Shortz (the hardcore crossword puzzlers' almighty God) comes on the radio to do three things: share the solution to the previous week's puzzle, invite a winner who entered the correct answer to play another puzzle (usually word-related) on the air for word-nerdy prizes, and present everyone with the next week's puzzle (answers due in by Thursday afternoon via the WES website if you want a chance to play on the air).

Note: I never post the solutions on this blog. I see lots of keyword traffic coming from people looking for the answers, which is at best impatient, and at worst, cheating. For shame.

Now without further ado, here's this week's new puzzle:

What are the two longest rhyming words that have no letters in common? For example, "pie" and "guy" rhyme and do not share any letters. The answer words cannot start with an unaccented syllable, such as "today." The source for acceptable words is Merriam-Webster's 11th Collegiate Dictionary.

Click here to see the original puzzle posting, check the answer to last week's challenge, listen to the segment, or find the link to enter your answer.

Thrusty Thursday: Matt Schulze

So a couple of weeks ago I wrote a post about The Fast and the Furious wherein I hinted that I ought to spotlight supporting dreamboat Matt Schulze in the Thursty Thursday feature. The time has come.

Schulze and his tattooed, meatheaded on-screen persona made that otherwise perplexing movie supremely watchable for me. Before seeing it, I knew nothing about this fellow, but I've now done a little research, research which was comprised largely of extensive Google image searches and pained me very greatly. Here is what I learned about Matt Schulze in that process:

1. He's a fox. With a big tattoo.

2. Wikipedia knows very little about him.

3. He likes bicycles and looks good in Spandex.

4. He plays guitar.

5. He's been in quite a few films and TV shows.

6. There's a rumor that he's training in mixed martial arts, and if it's true, my lady-parts will explode with rapture.

I searched YouTube for a video clip of Schulze in action, but there weren't any amazing ones, sadly. And certainly none of him kicking or punching or otherwise exploding my lady-parts through acts of brutish manfulness. So instead, let's just gaze upon his motionless visage one last time:



Ah, that hit the spot.

Busting the Bon-Bon Myth

Writers know their daily Ks don't belong to the screen alone.

Writers endure a tremendous amount of pressure—from their editors, publishers, readers, spouses and suffering bank accounts, and most of all themselves— to keep their "butts in the chair". That means sit down each day and do your job. Write. Fingers on keys.

Sterling advice, worthy of a stone tablet…or at least an overpriced Moleskine. But is it worthy of an uncomfortably snug pair of jeans? Dear God, say it ain't so.

I do most of my socializing within the authorsphere on Twitter, and one really cool thing I've noticed is how many of us make exercise a priority. Writers—individuals in any profession in which there's pressure, often self-induced, to stay glued to your screen and keyboard—have a reputation for being…how can I put this? A bit soft around the edges.

But we don't all work in our slippers and pajamas, drinking can after can of caffeinated soda and snacking as we type. Writers take their jobs very seriously, even if the hard work isn't always reflected in the paychecks. And I'd suggest we take our health seriously, too. I spot tweets all day that prove my fellow authors care just as much about the Ks they're walking as the ones they're writing.

I usually tweet when I'm about to take my morning run, in part because I know somebody will be kind enough to point out, "Aren't you supposed to be running by now?" when I invariably get waylaid by the conversations or my own work-in-progress. Writers are encouraged to put their WIPs before their waistlines, and to do otherwise can be seen as a distraction from their artistic and professional calling.

Nonsense!

I love when I catch others' tweets about favorite yoga positions, who's heading out to the gym, who got an awesome idea for a story on their morning walk. I love seeing my fellow desk-jockeys jazzed about a new jump-start workout song or crazy high-tech sneakers or a fitness goal reached. So take that, stereotypes and self-induced productivity guilt!

That said, it is a sedentary existence, being a full-time writer. For those who are slacking a bit on their fitness regimen, I think setting a goal for exercise as one would words (such as, "I will write 2K today and walk that same distance") is wise, not only for your health, but also your creativity. Getting your blood moving through cardio and stretching is fantastic for your brain. It clears out the cobwebs and freshens your head, relaxes you so your ideas can flow more easily, and it boosts your confidence. Think I'm talking out of my ass? Go for a vigorous 45-minute walk and tell me you don't feel more lucid and capable when you next sit down to flagellate yourself in service to the almighty word count god. I walk when I'm stuck for a story's turning point and it nearly always does the trick. It can also get you out of the house, which is key in a job where the tiniest observation can blossom into a full-blown epic at any serendipitous moment.

So, to any scoffers out there who still think writers spend more time reaching for the bon-bons than the dumbbells, the tweets beg to differ. And to the writers who need a little kick in the priorities, consider committing yourself to a 2K-a-day style exercise goal. It may take a perceived 25–30 minutes away from your precious writing time, but I promise you, you'll see a difference not only in your daily calorie tally, but also in your word count.

Sunday Puzzle

It's Sunday again, and you know what that means—time for me to rip off the puzzle segment from NPR's Weekend Edition Sunday!

Mustachioed enigmatologist 

extraordinaire, Will Shortz 

If you're a newcomer, each week on Weekend Edition Sunday, Will Shortz (the hardcore crossword puzzlers' almighty God) comes on the radio to do three things: share the solution to the previous week's puzzle, invite a winner who entered the correct answer to play another puzzle (usually word-related) on the air for word-nerdy prizes, and present everyone with the next week's puzzle (answers due in by Thursday afternoon via the WES website if you want a chance to play on the air).

Note: I never post the solutions on this blog. I see lots of keyword traffic coming from people looking for the answers, which is at best impatient, and at worst, cheating. For shame.

Now without further ado, here's this week's new puzzle:

Name a famous person whose first name has six letters and last name has eight. In this person's first name, the first two letters are the same as the last two letters. And, these two letters also start the last name. The first two letters of the last name are pronounced differently from how they're pronounced in the first name. Who is this person?

Okay, last week I got all cocky then totally failed to arrive at the cheeky fund-drive-week-themed answer after at least a collective couple of hours' effort. This week I'm staying humble. Click here to see the original puzzle posting, check the answer to last week's challenge, listen to the segment, or find the link to enter your answer.

Angry Birds

The manfriend and I have discovered something new to do in bed as a couple, and it kept us up well past our bedtimes last night.

It's called Angry Birds, and it's simply the awesomest game ever for the iPad. I have certain standards for video games. I don't like being shot at too much. I don't like games where there's pressure on me to do things quickly or with great coordination. I don't like games that take themselves too seriously. Nothing too gory. Or mindless. I like puzzle and strategy games, basically. My favorite from childhood is a pyramid exploration game for the Macintosh called Scarab of Ra. Shadowgate was cool too, but the torch burning down stressed me out. Favorite finds of the past few years have been the perplexingly awesome Katamari Damacy, the Rhem games (similar to Myst), and Machinarium. Holy crap. Machinarium. So wondrous. If you're reading this, you probably have a computer, so you can download and play it. Do so now! Or at least play the free demo. If it weren't enough that it's fun and challenging, it's utterly gorgeous. Great way to pass a blizzardy indoor weekend this winter.

But I'm getting off topic. Angry Birds! Yes, the fact that its heroes are round birds doesn't hurt its case for me. But beyond that it's just super simple and fun and addictive. It's available for the iPad, iPhone, and a beta version is available for some non-Apple smart phones. If you buy the full HD version it'll cost you as much as a glass of wine and it's worth every penny, plus a two-dollar tip.

Basically, you slingshot little round cartoon birds at funky constructions made of wood, ice, and stone, trying to vanguish smug green pigs. There's a bit of strategy to it, because you have to do some reasoning to figure out which bit of the structure to target. Here's the one-minute trailer:



But even if that looks fun, it's not even a quarter as fun as actually playing it. I can't vouch for the gaming experience on a phone, but if you have an iPad, I highly recommend you download it. If you don't love it, there's something wrong with you.

Friday Night Fu Review: Ong-Bak

Ong-Bak ★★★★★

A new irregular feature! Though when I say I'm setting out to review Kung Fu movies, that's really just a catch-all term to mean martial arts films as a greater genre. The focus of this review is probably technically a Muay Thai movie, though as best I can figure it's a hot gorgeous mess of Muay Boran and Taekwondo and general gymnastical amazingness that will asplode your head in the best way possible.

Ong-Bak: Muay Thai Warrior (องค์บาก) (2003) is simply a hundred minutes of point-blank awesome. Tony Jaa is the star, and he deserves that title. The baddies are bad-ass, but he steals every taker's thunder, which can be a tough task for a pure-of-soul, humble protagonist. Jaa is just a freak in the best way imaginable. Trivia fact: he was ordained as a Buddhist monk this past May. Hope that won't put too much of a damper on possible future movies appearances.

The IMDb synopsis is dull but accurate [and I have cleaned up the poor English here]: Booting (Ting) lives in a small and peaceful village. One day a sacred Buddha statuette called Ong Bak is stolen from the village by a immoral businessman who sells it for exorbitant profits. It becomes the task of Ting to track the thief to Bangkok and reclaim the religious treasure. Along the way, Ting uses his astonishing athleticism and traditional Muay Thai skills to combat his adversaries.

But don't be swayed by that. Be swayed by this:



I mean, holy crap. The barbed wire hoop-jumping?

The American tagline for the film is "No stunt doubles, no computer images, no strings attached." I believe it. It's gritty and scrappy and damn near obscene in its use of one-take wide-shot action-flick stunt orgasms. Oh God, I could go on and on, but I won't. So astounding yet essentially simple. If you've got Netflix, stream it for free on Instant Watcher here.

Mike Myers presents…

PART II: The euphoric first chapter…now what? 

First I’d like to thank everyone for taking the time to provide both the positive feedback and constructive criticism on my initial installment of The Procrastinator's Guide. I’ll go under the assumption that my being invited to write a second post is a positive sign, as opposed to the alternative that you're all masochists looking for the literary equivalent of nails raked across a chalkboard.

I’m surprised at how much I’ve struggled in choosing this month’s topic. As I touched on last month, I’ve certainly submarined my fledgling writing career enough over the years to provide a plethora of topics to cover. Distractions, self-defeating behaviors, lack of motivation, popcorn cravings...each begging to be explored, yet still I was stuck. I had to choose the perfect topic or I’d lose any momentum I created and lose anyone interested enough to give my next effort a try.

Hmmm. Something about this scenario stinks of familiarity. You see, several years ago I wrote the first chapter for my first attempt at a romance novel, and it was years before I wrote the first line for Chapter Two. How did this happen? Let’s take a closer look.

Immediately upon finishing the first draft of Chapter One and desperate for some instant gratification, I fired it off to some published friends to get their opinion. For me, this was a bad decision. Maybe you’re a more disciplined writer than I (call me crazy but I’m assuming that is the case) and you would have continued on your merry way regardless of the resulting feedback. For the flighty among us however, sending our golden prose out for comment provides little chance of a happy ending. As I see it now (isn’t hindsight awesome?) there were three possible outcomes.

The first was that their feedback would be negative and my fledgling writing ego (about half the size of a grain of rice) would be crushed, possibly beyond repair, and I’d find myself shunned and friendless. The second possibility was that they would declare me the next great American novelist, bury me beneath oodles of accolades and beg me not to change a single word (wasn’t exactly holding my breath on this possibility). The third and most likely outcome would be receiving guarded to genuine optimism, some encouragement and perhaps a few suggested edits that would be obvious to an accomplished writer.

Like most, I received what was hiding behind door number three, and instead of moving on to Chapter Two I went back and revised Chapter One. I was editing. That’s what real authors do, right? I would get to Chapter Two as soon as I could get Chapter One perfect. Are you shaking your head and judging me? In my defense I realize now that it was a poor decision. If my mistake isn’t obvious to you, ask yourself this: how long do you think it takes to get perfection in your writing, especially when you’re just starting out? If you know I’d love to hear the answer.

So forever I dwelled in a purgatory where my lonely chapter was edited, tweaked, modified [feel free to insert your own variation of making changes without any real progress here] until I began to hate Chapter One with a deep loathing usually only reserved for one's in-laws.

It was time to move on, but by that time I had zero forward momentum to carry me into Chapter Two and beyond. There was also the case that Chapter One was now in pretty decent shape (it had better be after all that time) and since I hadn’t been writing, Chapter Two would be less than stellar as a first draft.  It’s these little things that can shake your confidence and make it that much easier to put off writing for just another day.

My advice to anyone who finds themselves in a similar situation? Write Chapter One. Enjoy the euphoria of starting a new project and creating characters and situations from nothing but your imagination. Embrace the unknown of what lies ahead for both yourself and your characters and get started on writing Chapter Two. Do not pass Go, do not seek external validation, and do not let distractions or fear keep you from taking at least one step each day towards bringing your dream closer to becoming a reality.

Bonus Distraction of the Month
Like most procrastinators, even when I'm at my diligent best, my subconscious remains on the lookout for the latest shiny object to sabotage my efforts. I thought it might be fun to point out the most interesting such distraction each month. Many are legitimate, but if they keep me from hitting my writing goal, I need to make a conscious decision on how to best deal with them. This month’s distraction was brought to me indirectly by Charles Dickens.

Over the past few years my daughter has been trying out for a role at a local theatre group without success. At the latest try-out for this season’s production of A Christmas Carol, my daughter pointed out the many adults also trying out for parts. Giving her dad undeserved credit, she begged me to give it a shot. Since I’m a theatre junkie and there were more than enough people with actual talent (I listed "Singing in the Car" and "Audience Member" under the Previous Theatre Experience section...true story) I thought it would be fun to go through an audition risk free. At the least I’d have a nugget for a future story, at most I’d get a minor bit part. What I didn’t expect was a phone call offering me the part of Bob Cratchet, complete with a commitment to attend rehearsals 6:30-9:00pm three nights a week for the next three months. Prime writing time gone just like that. Poof.

So, if anyone has suggestions on how to write while sleeping, wants to share their past bizarre distractions, or just wants to see a fellow NEC-RWA member give a rendition of Bob Cratchet never envisioned by Charles Dickens, drop me an e-mail. I’d love to hear from you. Until then keep writing, don’t look back, and we’ll both be that much closer to writing The End.

All that and you still found time to keep us up to date on your journey? I'm sure we'll all agree you don't give yourself enough credit, Mike. And as always, everyone be sure to follow and harass Mike on Twitter @MikeMyersWriter. Then when he's the next big thing you can say, "I stalked him way back when…"