Who doesn’t like dinosaurs? I was very into them when I was about six or seven and never quite lot the appetite for learning more about our giant lizard friends.

This Mother’s Day I took my mom (an inveterate nature show buff) to Walking with Dinosaurs, a live show based on the BBC palaeontology series. They held it in the local sports arena. The basic plot is a walk through prehistory, complete with life-sized animatronic (and some human-occupied) dinos. It was very loud, the critters were very big, and it was altogether very impressive. My brain had trouble processing the size of the dinos. The emcee came up to their ankles.

The show’s web site gives a good sense of what it’s like: http://www.dinosaurlive.com/

Although I was well aware these were puppets, they were realistic enough to let myself sink into the experience a bit. I enjoyed the junior high science component fine, but equally interesting were the mechanics involved in wrangling the critters. There was a fleet of semis lined up outside the arena.

There were plenty of dads with kids, no doubt making a Mother’s Day present of their absence. Some of the kids were really little, and I would have thought the whole thing too scary for them. However, once in the parking lot, there were plenty of three-foot-tall T-rexes roaring about the parking lot, so I guess that was all good.

For me, this of course was writing research, maybe on dragons. All very serious stuff. I did feel a bit left out when I realized there were stuffed triceratops for sale, but I was too late to get one. Phooey.

My tabby cat has never been Ms. Adventurous, especially since the Demon Lord of Kitty Badness hit town. The bedroom is her domain and, frankly, that’s where she prefers to stay, away from the Demon Lord chaos.

Ergo, for want of exercise she has come to resemble one of the pillows. Or a bowling ball. Bowling balls aren’t great at grooming their hindquarters. We seem to get along with garden-variety brushing for about eleven months and then poof, she’s covered in mats from the hips back.

Happily for all the furry bowling balls out there, Groomer2Go comes to the rescue–directly to my door. Yeah, it’s a titch more cash than a visit to the beauty parlour, but it saves on wear and tear for all concerned. Getting my girl into a carrier gives a whole new meaning to Octopussy.

Of course, the grooming fairy insists I put the cat in a half-nelson and hold her down on the mat for the shaving procedure. Cue the sound effects, calculated to strike terror into our hearts: “Mmmmrrroooowwwowowwoowwwowwww!”

Groomer and I fall into a fit of the giggles. Not the intended effect.

I don’t blame the cat for objecting, since we are giving her private parts a buzz cut. The effect is a bit like a rear-end Mohawk. After twenty torturous minutes, in which I am bitten, peed on, and sworn at in cat, the ordeal is over. I tip the groomer in big-time apology. Tabby lost dignity and enough hair to knit another kitten. I lost flesh. Thank the great feline goddess that’s over with for another year.

Then I fed my girl and she purred and cuddled. I guess getting all those lumps out of her coat counts for something.

I just spent the last three days sitting at the kitchen table with my laptop going over the editor’s comments on SCORCHED. I have fryball-eyeballs and the kind of sluggishness that only 72 hours of almost complete immobility can produce. But I got it done.
One could point out that a reasonable person wouldn’t cram so much into such a short space of time. I actually did this intentionally. Connecting all the dots in a book sometimes requires the total immersion method. In order to make sure the logic works, you need to hold the whole book in your head at once.
I did notice some essential differences between RAVENOUS and SCORCHED. This next book is seriously rooted in fairy tale. I didn’t start out that way, but the heroine kept pulling me in that direction. And we are talking about a Castle. And a rescue. And a curse. And really, once you start down that road, there’s no turning back.

Oh, good grief. I got my newsletter out last night but totally messed up one of the links. The correct link to sign up for my loop is here

This discussion loop, or focus group, is for those who want to hang out and talk writing, books, practical stuff, what the cat did, etc. This is new, so I don’t know how it’s going to go. What I have in mind is fairly fluid. I’m happy to talk about writing. I’ll probably ask opinions on things like the newsletter, goody bag inserts, what books readers are enjoying, and so on. And, of course, book talk.

Sadly, gave the wrong address in the newsletter. Which is a bit like inviting people to a party and pointing them to a different street. No wonder no one ever calls me to organize a wedding!

Yeah, it’s been an interesting couple of weeks in an “if it’s not one thing, then it’s another” kind of way. I’ve fallen behind in just about everything again, which then sends me into the avoidance spiral. In my defence, I had a nasty cold for about a week, but that’s thankfully on the way out. All I could do for several days was be grumpy.

Some of the grumps were with cause: I’m enrolled in the last course of a day-job educational program I’ve been working on for six years. I’m sticking it out because it’s the end, but I’m kicking and screaming inside every time I open the textbook. Not just because I really don’t care about the minutiae of the Income Tax Act (it doesn’t apply to my job anyway) but the course is badly designed and the tutor completely uninterested in doing more than the bare minimum of marking. I actually asked for extra problems to work through to make sure I understood the material and was shrugged off. This has got to be penance for something.

Besides, I’m into my next manuscript and really want to spend my time there instead. I have book 3, book 2 edits, and another project all sitting up and begging for attention. SCORCHED should be through the revisions process (this should be about SCORCHED v. 2.3) this weekend. I’m excited because I think I have the final finishing touches in mind. It just needs that last little push to be complete.