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Adventures of a Girl Reporter

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I entered the fall writing competition at www.hurog.com, Author Patricia Briggs' official site.

All the entries are here: http://hurog.com/forum/index.php?topic=3575.0

Mine is "Once Upon a Time." You don't have to read it, but if you do, please tell me what you thought of it. (It is entirely okay not to like it. I'd love to hear what you thought either way.)
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This is a petition to keep "The Listener" on the air. I like the show, and the lead is hot. Also, there's a lot of people employed by the show who might lose their jobs if it goes under. I have a new appreciation for the people who work behind the scenes. I've no doubt the actors'll land on their feet, but it would suck if these people had to look for new jobs. The goal is 5,000 people. If you sign it, that's one less person.


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Someone asked me, very politely, to review their story a day or so ago. I had to say no. Funnily enough, a friend and I had been discussing my lack of reviews in the fandom earlier this week.

I don't review in the fandom, and some people may say, "Why not?" I have not reviewed anything in seven months and I haven't reviewed anything that an author whom I already admire hasn't written in over a year.

There are several reasons I don't review. First and foremost, I have very limited free time, and I choose to spend it either with my family or friends or working on my own original novel, not correcting grammar and giving free writing lessons over the Internet to people I don't know. To give you an idea of how very little free time I have, I have two children who participate in organized sports and Scouts. Yes, I know. I am a bitch and a Scout mom. How amazing that I might be an acutal person, one that some small child might call mommy and love.

In addition to those kids, I have two nephews who have a host of issues to face -- it's none of your business and not my story to face -- and I have done my damnest to step up and help out emotionally and financially.

And I have a husband. Amazing that someone can put up with my shit, I know. Sometimes he likes to spend time with me. I don't explain it, I just roll with it.

And I have a job. Yes, a J-O-B. One that demands 50-60 hours a week and many weekends and weeknights. It's not 9-5; that'd be nice, but it would be boring.

To sum up: I am not a 15-year-old girl with the summer off and unlimited time to review.

Secondly, I really don't like most of the stories in the fandom. There are 5 percent of the stories which are well-written; there are 70 percent which are utter crap that it makes you laugh in an attempt not to cry; and there is the 25 percent which are mediocre, but think that, because they have managed to master the basics of grammar and avoid writing a completely cliched Mary Sue, they are hot shit.

The 5 percent of people who are good, I review when they update, but they update so rarely that I usually either miss them or find out after it's been up six months and feel like a moron reviewing it so late.

The 70 percent who suck don't want to hear a word I say and will have an insane batshit tantrum to prevent themselves from learning anything about grammar or writing.

The 25 percent who have overly inflated opinions about themselves could become better, but they only really want sunshine blown up their asses. If I tell them that they really aren't that good, to save face, they will pretend to take the crit -- only because they yell and scream about how people should take concrit (meaning the fanbrats, not themselves or their friends) -- but will talk about me behind my back and say what a bitch I am. I graduated high school a while back and have no intention to return to that shit.

Thirdly, people say to me, "I reviewed your story, why can't you review mine?" I point to the first (important) and second (Internet dramaz) reasons, then I tell them this: My stories have been reviewed more than 1,500 times. No, that is not a typo. It is overwhelming, and even if I had my summers off, I couldn't keep up with that shit (there's a reason that I didn't go into teaching -- I have no patience for stupidity, dramaz or entitlement).

Besides, I have no interest in your two-three sentence review that was purely done to lure me over to your story. I looked at them; if I haven't reviewed yet, then I really don't think they are good and I just don't want to get on the dramaz merry-go-round with you. Reviewing my story does not entitle you to a review from me, especially when it is established that I don't review. It is extremely unlikely that your story will be so amazing that I will be moved to review.

I write for four people: Mars, CA, Big Town and zevie. When I write, I am wondering about their reactions. I want to know what they think about it. If only these four people gave me feedback, whether by message, in chat or by email, I could give fuck-all about the rest of it. There are a few more people -- about a dozen intelligent, talented, thoughtful writers; you know who you are -- whose opinions I respect. 

The rest of it is so much noise. 

I have never been about the reviews. I don't care about getting them, I don't understand the obessession with them (even in those I love) and I don't understand why it's an issue. To me, editing is so much more important. Finding an editor who will tell you "this whole chapter doesn't work, and you need to scrap it," instead of one who says "I loved it! Oh, there were a few grammatical errors and they were ... " is so important. Someone who tells you the truth about what you write is more important than someone who wants to make you happy or like them. Precious few people can stand to hear the truth, and there are even less people out there who want to give it. 

Those people who fail to continue to improve and wish to rest on their laurels -- deserved or not -- and receive praise from those who give it in the hopes that it will be returned ... well, you can have it. If you want to tell each other that you are the best thing since Wonder bread, I feel sorry for you, because you will never be any better than you are now. 

And that's not all that impressive. 

I'm sure there are people out there who believe that this essay is directed toward them and are pissed right now ... those people have a hard time dealing with the truth. And that is why I don't review in the fandom anymore.  
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I like Britney. She reminds me of my sister; they were both going through a lot of the same shit at the same time, and I wondered if they'd ever get it all together or if, some morning, I'd wake up to find out someone died.

Then, they managed to pull themselves together, again, at the same time.

So Britney is my bitch; she's fierce.

Me and the minime were cruising to the mall in our spring frocks and white gloves (true that--me and boo like to dress up and fuck anyone who don't like it) and we were sipping fruit smoothies and head banging to her greatest hits album.

"Outrageous" comes on. If you're not familiar with, it's basically just B-girl saying the word "outrageous," followed by one phrase or another, implying that she is outrageous, no-holds-barred, out-of-fucking-control in all aspects of her life.

So we are singing along (even though either one of us would make Simon Cowell's ears bleed) and come to the lyric "Outrageous--my sex drive." 

Boo looks at me (mind you, she's nine) and says, "I know what a sex drive is."

I choke on my smoothie. "How the hell do you know what a sex drive is? What do you think that is?"

After being reminded that I am not to say the word "hell," Dr. Ruth informs me that a sex drive is "the urge to have sex. And you don't have one."

"Say what?" This is news to me. 

"You're too old."  

Yes, at the ripe old age of twenty-nine, I have gone beyond all sexual urges. It is a relief, actually. I just have to figure out a way to tell the Dragon.

"So what's sex?" 

Pausing in her efforts to give herself brain freeze, she goes, "oh, kissing and cuddling and all that yucky stuff." 

Thank you, sweet baby Jesus. "Where did you hear this?" 

"Animal Planet." WTF?? I thought that was an educational channel about animals?? Oh, wait ...

"No more Animal Planet for you."

So then we went to the mall and spent sick money cuz that's the way we roll.

And Animal Planet? STFU.
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Today is Matty's Birthday. Have a slice of cake for our favorite actor and watch a movie -- I'll be watching "Outsiders" around nine o'clock if anyone wants to chat.
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I bought the SICKEST coat in the world yesterday. It's a black silk trench, and I am in love with it. It was originally $80, but I got it for $23.

Plus I bought:

* Three pairs of patterened, wide-legged Apostrophe slack. I LOVE wide-legged slacks. 
* One gray cashmere cardigan, knee-length. Again, heart long sweaters so much.
* Two sweaters, one baby doll and one cardigan, for my daughter.
* A Bobby Jack hoodie for my girl.
* A knit duster in cream with a sailor collar for my little Pink. 
* Two pairs of carpenter jeans for my son.
* A pair of slacks for my boy. 
* A blue ribbed sweater (SO CUTE) for my little Menance. 
* Three pairs of Dockers slacks for my husband.
* Three button down shirts for the husband in lovely shades with a suede finish (pettable) for my man.
* One blue ribbed sweater (matches Robbie's) for my  Dragon.

All that cost me just under $200, but if it wasn't on sale, it would have cost almost $640. I am so GOOD at shopping.
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Omygod, I have a new obsession, and he's Canadian, of course. Of course. I can't find anything on him. My Canadian peeps, please help!

Here he is:

Omgod, he's made of hot.

And he's going to be on NBC this summer in a series called "The Listner." And I know all these bitches are going to be "I LURV him," but I was here first!

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I'm a follower, so I am going to tell you what's in my purse. I'll even post some pictures up later this afternoon, but don't hold your breath, okay? I know you're excited and everything, but chillax.

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 Everything has been saved to my nifty little flash drive, the save confirmed, and damn if I didn't do the hard drive wipe and restore myself. 

I'm back on the Intrawebz, and everything is ticking along like a charm, faster than before. 

Ninjachat Sunday?

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