Fifty Shades

But first... Yay Deutschlaaaaand!! Sorry Greece. :(

I haven't read Fifty Shades of Grey, but I've heard a lot about it, and mostly women say it's a very good story written very poorly. (Sue reports that the term "down there" is overused. Ack.) Several of my friends and I are sure we could easily put out something competitive with it. We've had discussions for years about the possibility of publishing in that genre, and how easy it is for good writers, should you want to go that route with your career, because most of those writers aren't great.

I am confused though, as to why Fifty Shades is such a shocker for an astonishing number of American women. Don't women know that these sorts of books have been around for decades? Where have you been, ladies? Also, there are many amazing writers publishing adult fiction online. Just saying.

Saturday 9 has been a little deep the past few weeks. I don't mind a question or two that require me to really think, but too many just take too long. Maybe next Saturday!

Curious as a Cat

1) Would you rather have one free trip to space or free international travel for life?
Free international travel for life. I don't ever need to go to space.

2) What's your middle name? Do you like it?
Marguerite. Yes! It's my grandma's name.

3) Name a time when you got into big trouble with your parents.
I was in "big trouble" with them exactly twice in my life- once when I was 9 and once when I was 16.

There was one time when I should have been in big trouble, but wasn't. I was 6 or 7, and we were in College Station at my grandparents' house. I was out front, playing with tons of teensy pebbles that were along the edge of the street for some reason. At some point I started throwing them into the air, and I would run underneath them, letting them rain down on me. (It sounds really brainless. I was 7. Maybe I shouldn't be telling this story...)

One time, I accidentally tossed them a little too close to my parents' car. When they hit the back windshield, the entire sheet of glass immediately shattered into a trillion pieces and fell into the back seat.

I burst into tears and people came pouring out of the house. I don't know if Mom and Dad felt sorry for me, or were relieved that I wasn't hurt, or just knew I felt worse than they could ever hope for (probably), but they scooped me up and hugged me and said it was ok. It was "just a window." An expensive window. I'm sure they were upset!

4) Show and Tell. What comes to mind first when you see this picture? Or, tell a story if it reminds you of one.

Eww. Sprinkles make me nauseous. They're always on top of something that is already sweet enough, just to push you into a sugar coma. Of course, one could probably make the same case against chocolate sauce. Totally different.