Monday, August 17, 2015

Magical "Bufferfly"

So I'm sitting in the Toyota service waiting area for the beginning of *apparently* a two-hour marathon of annoying commercials singing the praises of the newer model cars that I don't have but find that I suddenly want as I wait for my airbag to be repaired so that it doesn' me. And I can't help but watch as countless technicians with their Toyota-branded red polos tucked neatly into their pressed chinos tell unsuspecting customers that the x, y, and z in their vehicles need to be replaced for a *gulp* obscene amount of money. And if they don't sign on the dotted line and hand over their plastic, the smiling, neatly tucked technician explains, they will likely get stranded in the middle of the highway, be subsequently run over by some semi tractor trailer, and have to be scraped off the pavement like a salted slug. 

Thirty eight minutes and I'm growing anxious ... worried that every red and tan clone with a name tag is coming to tell me that my 84,000-mile hunk of junk needs repairs that will require a second...or even a third mortgage. "B...but..." I imagine myself saying through a quivering lip and chin. "I just came in for the recall."

"It's imperative," he will say, his voice confident, his brow furrowed in fatherly concern, "for your safety." And whatever defenses I have will crumble faster than a sand castle in a tornado.

-----twenty minutes later----

Miguel, the clone assigned to me, just left. The diagnosis? A cracked drive belt, a leaking water pump, a dying battery... And what little I had (or expected to have) in my bank account has magically vanished. <poof> Did you know there were live magic shows in the Toyota dealership waiting room? Me neither. After the disappearing bank account trick, perhaps Miguel will pull a rabbit out of the fly of his chinos or turn a Camry into a flock of canaries.

Alas...I am defeated. Broke, tired, and hating Miguel. Of course I realize that my anger is misdirected, but I hate him and his rabbit filled chinos nonetheless. I'm not proud.

And here I sit drinking complimentary coffee and suppressing the urge to pull a Michael Douglas in Falling Down when this little girl -- imagine pigtails, sun freckles, and a Hello Kitty Band-Aid on her tiny sandaled foot -- seated two seats to my right suddenly says, "Did you see my bufferfly?" She holds up a crayon drawing with more colors than I remember existing in the largest box -- the one with the sharpener on the back.

"That's beautiful!" I say, and she flashes me an impressive toothy grin that instantly melts my anger and fills me with joy.

Like magic.  

Sunday, August 16, 2015

Enter for a Chance to Win an Autographed Copy of Sculpting Anna!

Halloween Book Giveaway

Enter this Goodreads book giveaway contest for a chance to win an AUTOGRAPHED copy of Sculpting Anna!

The giveaway will open on August 16 and close on October 31. The winner will be selected by Goodreads at random. Good luck!

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Sculpting Anna by Venus Reising

Sculpting Anna

by Venus Reising

Giveaway ends October 31, 2015.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.
Enter Giveaway

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Riding the Roller Coaster toward Book Release

So it's book release month...

The thought that people will soon be reading Sculpting Anna is at once exhilarating and absolutely terrifying. As soon as I flipped the calendar page to August, my stomach filled with that roller coaster feeling of slowly chugging along toward what you suspect is the drop off, although you can't know when the floor is actually going to be yanked out from under you or even see what is on the other side. All you can see is blue sky up ahead. So each day, my cart inches toward the precipice at a painfully slow and agonizing rate, and my fingers tighten around the safety bar.

D's in the cart with me, of course, but, unlike me, she's got her hands up in the air, her seat belt unlatched, and a wide and silly grin plastered on her face. She's ready to fly. She's fearless. And I'm just slightly, perhaps manically, panicked. Yes, I'm that rider. You know the one--with her eyes shut tightly, her knuckles white from squeezing the bar, and her brain racing with questions like When was the last safety inspection of this coaster? or Will being flown from the seat and falling seven stories to my death meet the life insurance company's criteria for accidental death benefits?

But, regardless, we can't stop it now. There's no getting off. We just have to wait for gravity to do her thing.

Look at what was waiting for me when I arrived home from work today!

And we're off...