Cookie Monster (Life is a Roller Derby Run by a Sphinx Preview!)

Hello everyone! I hope you have all had more fabulous weeks than the thought of the Democratic National Convention reenacted by William Shatner impersonators. 

Well, we are getting close to the release of Life is a Roller Derby Run by a Sphinx and so this week I wanted to give you a quick taste of what is to come. So for your reading pleasure, ripped directly from the pages of my next book, is Chapter 27: Cookie Monster.

27. Cookie Monster 

Some children are lovely little gifts from heaven. Other kids are more like trials sent to test parents’ perseverance, cunning and ability to get crayon off of a variety of surfaces. 

         I was more of the latter; I pretended to be a dinosaur during church, thought I was a Power Ranger and World Wrestling Federation wrestler all rolled into one (that poor furniture) and built very elaborate spaceships from everyday items and sometimes essential machine parts. 

         Not only was I handful, I was a rather clever one. I had learned to read at an early age and by the time I turned four I already had most of the Nancy Drew, The Boxcar Children and The Hardy Boys under my literary belt. Add in the fact that I watched as many episodes of Murder, She Wrote and Matlock as I could find, and I was a regular criminal mastermind in the making. I gobbled up mystery stories faster than the newest Lone Ranger movie bombed and was forgotten.

Out soon!!!

         Of course, with my rambunctious little brain, I began to wonder if I could pull of a caper that not even Nancy Drew or Jessica Fletcher could solve! 

  

          I plotted, I planned, I drew schematics, I built models of vaults and banks out of Legos.

           Now keep in mind, at four years old you really don’t have to have an exact goal in mind. I wasn’t out to steal the Hope Diamond or ransack a museum for priceless art. I was just plotting crime in general.

           

           My parents, knowing I lacked the income and resources to pull off a liquor store robbery, much less a fantastical heist, weren’t too concerned about my little ‘flights of fancy’ into the heinous world of crime.

          

           I knew that my plans could succeed, as a Brain without a Pinky could, if only I had a goal to focus them on.

Then came the day my mother made her wonderfully delicious peanut-butter-chocolate-chip cookies. These cookies are melt-in-your-mouth good. If we could give these cookies out to every world leader simultaneously, there would be World Peace, because it’s impossible to feel aggressive or angry while eating one. 

She baked an entire batch in the afternoon, and I had been granted one cookie. The rest, she informed me, would have to wait until after dinner. I tried to reason with her, dinner was a full two hours away. My pleas went unanswered. I watched sorrowfully as my mom put every remaining cookie into the giant strawberry shaped cookie jar far back on the kitchen counter and wandered off to do something else. 

I stood in the kitchen staring daggers at that cookie jar, reveling in how unfair the situation was. I could still smell the cookies, and still had the taste of peanut butter and chocolate in my mouth. 

Suddenly, it hit me like a Mac truck hits a sleeping armadillo, this is what I had been scheming for! This was my crime of the century! Well… at least crime of the day… let’s be real here. 

I ran back to my room digging through my catapult designs, ideas for a mind-control laser and blueprints of someone else’s house that I had found while playing outside one day. None of it seemed to help my cookie situation. 

I snuck back towards the kitchen to do some reconnaissance. Crawling, army-style on my belly, I crept down the hallway, listening intently for any adults. No one was about. I stood up and wandered towards the kitchen counter, realizing that I was far shorter than it was and the cookie jar was all the way back on the counter near the wall.nMy thoughts turned to the kitchen chairs, which could be drug over, but I needed to determine where my mom was first, in case the noise would alert her. 

I found my mom in the living room folding clothing. I nonchalantly wandered in, “Hi mom, you don’t have any reason to go to the kitchen anytime soon do you?” 

My mother’s eyes narrowed, “Why?” 

“No reason,” I said as I darted away, congratulating myself on not making her suspicious at all. 

Back in the kitchen, I planned my route of entry. The chair would be too loud to drag, but if I opened the drawers like stairs, I could probably climb up relatively easily. 

I wandered back down towards my mother, who, still folding clothes, was now surely listening intently for something to explode. Again, as casually as I could, I asked, “Hey mom, you don’t have a reason to be in the kitchen, right?” 

My mom blinked at me a couple of times, “Is there something on fire in the kitchen? Should I be in the kitchen right now?” 

“Nope! Was just wondering!” I said, skipping back down the hallway, again impressed with my own dramatic non-mom-worrying skills.

I checked to make sure the coast was clear, and then I opened the first drawer. I looked around; no one seemed to be rushing down the hall. I slid open the second drawer, nothing. I flung the remaining drawers open with wild abandon and stepped up onto the counter.

There it was, the strawberry cookie jar, in all its red glory.

I lifted the lid and found a veritable dragon’s hoard of amazing luscious little treats inside.

I’ve never been a dainty person. The cookie carnage I unleashed would have made the Cookie Monster seem civilized by comparison. I stuffed, I crammed, I smeared. I had chocolate on my face, cookie crumbs in my hair and peanut butter residue on every piece of clothing I was wearing. The spoils of my crime were sweet, soft and delicious.

I was about halfway through enjoying cookie number seven when I heard it, “Allison, what are you doing on the counter?”

         

          Turning, my mouth absolutely stuffed with cookie, I blinked at my mother. How had she caught me? I had made sure to fool her into thinking that nothing was wrong in the kitchen! Why was she here!? There was still thirty minutes until dinner!

          

         She stood, hands on hips, surveying the disastrous scene, “Allison, did you eat cookies out of the cookie jar?”

         

        I blinked. Interrogation was not something that Nancy Drew, Jessica Fletcher or any of the others had ever prepared me for. Mostly they just caught the criminal, the criminal confessed and then they would get a sad, disappointed look from Angela Lansbury. I knew my mother’s punishment wouldn’t be a sad, sympathetic, yet also disappointed look. So I came up with the best Hail-Mary answer I could think up.

          

         “No!” bits of cookie spraying from my mouth, “No! It wasn’t me!”

          

         My mother let out a tiny snort, then collected herself again and said, “Now,” small amount of laughter, followed by a throat clearing, “I’m going to ask you again. Did you eat the cookies?”

         

          Don’t ask me why, even at the age of four I knew there was no logical escape, and yet, I found myself answering, “Nope! Wasn’t me!”

         

          My mother instructed me to come down off the counter and stand there for a minute, she would be right back. I obediently, for once, climbed off of the counter and stood, waiting for my punishment as my mom took long strides towards the hallway.

          

          I realize that she was trying to hide the fact that she was laughing, but I could still hear her. To this day, I will never forget her pained attempts to be a seriously upset parent as she snorted out from behind the wall, “Go,” chuckle, “to your room! Bahahahahahaha!”

         

         So what crumbs of knowledge can be extracted from the cookie jar of experience?

1. Laughter may delay punishment, but the punishment is still forthcoming.

2. If your child is planning heists at the age of four, you might want to pay closer attention to her behavior.

3. Sometimes the best-laid plans end with cookies and grounding.

   

If you want news on the upcoming book you can get updates by liking me on Facebook, following me on Twitter (@AllisonHawn) and follow me on instagram (@AtillaTheHawn)! You can also snatch up my previous two books here!

Just a Christmas Reminder

Hello everyone, I hope you're having a more splendid day than the thought of kittens dressed as the Avengers (come on, admit it, it would be adorable).

Speaking of kittens, remember for the rest of this month 50% of the proceeds from my books will be going to help the animals at the Sun Valley Animal Shelter, which is a no-kill animal shelter in the Phoenix area.

So buy a book and help a kitty, like Coral here, find a forever home (by the way she is up for adoption at the moment if anyone is looking for a friendly feline to add to their home)!

I'm sorry for the break in my posting, my first round of end of semester final projects for graduate school ambushed me. I spent much of the past few weeks sitting in the library looking like this:

But I survived! The books did not end up toppling on top of me and burying me alive!

Of course, as I emerged from my finals haze, I was suddenly reminded that Christmas was quickly approaching. As such, it is time for my yearly Christmas reminder.

You know that song "Santa Baby?" (If you don't, click the link and give it a listen.)

The entire song involves a woman basically seducing Santa Claus into bringing her a light blue '54 convertible, a yacht, the deed to a platinum mine, a Christmas tree trimmed with jewelry from Tiffany's and a duplex.

The Hairpin at one point calculated the cost of all of the items requested in Santa Baby and came up with a grand total of $1,167,854,838.80.

Apparently Santa has a massive hedge fund up there in the North Pole. The real importance of this song, however, is in who sang it; Eartha Kitt, who is pictured above during her role as Catwoman in the original Batman TV program.

Do you know what other role Eartha Kitt was famous for portraying?

That's right, she was also Yzma from "The Emperor's New Groove."

So the next time you are hear that seductive voice attempting to convince Santa to give her the net worth of several small countries, remember that this is what is trying to seduce him.

Have a Merry Christmas everyone and a Happy New Year!

Remember you can always follow my adventures on Facebook and Twitter (@AllisonHawn) and you can find my books here!

Driving Under the Influence

Hello all! I hope your weeks have been more fantastic than the thought of Swan Lake performed by tu-tu clad mice!

 Well, they weren't kidding about the heat in Arizona. We had two consecutive days that were 115 degrees and I swear I could have grilled chicken on the pavement in front of our building.

They also were not joking about the dust storms. They have haboobs (it's another name for 'really intense dust storm, no really, go look it up and stop laughing) here too. I accidentally stepped outside during the most recent one and am still finding dust on me.

Overall, however, I seem to be surviving the heat and the weird weather.

When I moved away from Spokane people said to me, "Oh, now weird stuff will stop happening to you all the time."

I just shook my head, knowingly, at them. You see, my gravitational field that seems to pull in all of the bizarre parts of the universe is not restricted to a singular location. No, instead it follows me, orbiting the crazy around my head.

Point in case, let's take my trip to the grocery store the other night as proof. My roommate, Karen, and I dropped by to pick up a few necessities (aka ice cream). As we were leaving the store we noticed a rather large gentleman on one of those motorized scooters cutting a swerving path across the parking lot.

 As we watched, he steered one-handed, nearly hitting two parked cars. At least he was nice enough to apologize to each of the cars he nearly hit. I happened to look at what he was holding in his other hand. With just a little bit of the neck of a bottle poking out, it was obvious that the paper bag he gripped tightly in his hand was not full of candy.

I looked over at Karen, "Is he..." just as he took a giant swig from his cleverly hidden bottle.

"Yup!"

We both then watched as he tried to steer the cart into the cart barn, running smack into one of the end poles.

"Well, at least he's not driving a Hummer?"

What lessons can be drunk from the bottle of experience?

1. If you're too plastered to steer a motorized shopping cart, then a motor vehicle is not for you. Good job on your harm reduction, though.

2. Paper bags are the least sneaky way to hide booze, in fact, they are literally the most cliched way ever to disguise drinking. You're not going to fool anyone who has had access to television in the last fifty years.

As always come follow my adventures on Facebook and Twitter (@AllisonHawn) and check out my books here.

Things Grak Hates... But His Author Loves

Hello all! I hope you have all had more fabulous weeks than the thought of a saber tooth tiger performing Swan Lake.

A quick reminder, there is a nifty way to help support the efforts of Reading is Fundamental, which is focused on spreading literacy. Two of my short stories were recently published in a collection of paranormal fiction called "Gates of Erebus," all the proceeds of which will be going to Reading is Fundamental!

Well this week I have the great pleasure to have author Peter J. Story as a guest on the blog. Peter has written a rad little book called "Things Grak Hates."

"Things Grak Hates" is a wonderful trip into the mind of history's first ever possible sociopath. This wonderfully bizarre little piece of satire explores the dynamics of human personality in caveman form. And here Peter J. Story is to tell us all about it:  

How long have you been writing? 

I’ve been writing for nearly as long as I can remember, though I’d have to say it really became a passion around the age of ten. My uncle introduced me to the work of J.R.R. Tolkien, and I was instantly captivated. My love affair with the written word has only grown since.

What inspired you to write this book? 

I’ve spent years as a student of human nature, so this book was inspired largely by my observations. By setting the story in a prehistoric landscape among a tribe of nomads, I was able to portray actions and their effects on a much more noticeable scale. Things rarely escalate at the pace they do in this story, of course; but I think you’ll spot a clear reflection of modern society.

 Where did the name Grak come from?

I was just looking for something “nomadic” sounding, that was easy to pronounce and easy to remember. Grak fit the bill.

When writing this book, did you hear one of the narrators from National Geographic in your head narrating this book from the bushes?

No, I imagined a voice with a bit more whimsy.

If you had to describe this book in exactly five words, what would those words be?

Human nature at its worst.

If Grak had a modern occupation, what would you surmise it would be?

Grak’s power-grubbing nature (and lack of real marketable skills) could put him squarely in some middle management position. Of course, he could also be a genocidal dictator, an overreaching HOA president, or your posturing co-worker. As some readers have pointed out, there’s a little Grak in each of us…

What was the most difficult part of writing this book?

There were two very challenging elements that I encountered in writing this book. The first was portraying everything through Grak’s eyes. The second was limiting the scope of the story. I tend to run away with a story and its characters; but in this story, I had to keep that tendency in check in order to maintain the slow pace and gradual build up.

Do you, the author, hate olives as much as your character Grak?

No. I love olives.

If you want to find out more about "Things Grak Hates" or the author check out Peter J. Story's Facebook Page!

As always, you can find me on Facebook, Twitter (@AllisonHawn) and Goodreads!  

We Have a (Sorta) Winner!!!

Alright folks. I know you're mostly here to find out who won the Terrible Writing Contest for the signed copy of "Life is a Circus Run by a Platypus", so I won't dillydally. I think that should be counted as my good deed for the day.

Thank you to everyone who entered! It was a tough decision. Every entry was truly awful in totally rad ways.

After much deliberation I winnowed down my choices to D.L. Mackenzie's whopper of a sentence:

"A grey pall of boredom--not the ordinary boredom one might experience while listening to another of Uncle Chet's long-winded tales of his glory days in the San Jose Police motor pool maintenance crew, but a rather more sudden and intense lack of stimulation, like a kind of waking narcolepsy--failed to fall over the room (as might have been anticipated under the circumstances), for Jolly Jim Fitch had arrived quite unexpectedly (after having maintained emphatically for days--as he often did--that he would not do so), bearing liquor and ribald anecdotes, a welcome departure from the proceedings thus far, but one which would ultimately prove as disappointingly dull as the surface of a piece of unfinished furniture left in the driveway of an abandoned tenement for a couple of months during a rainy spell even wetter than the rainy spells to which we were now so accustomed since the atomic bomb blast which had leveled our city, altering the weather, not to mention apparently touching off the zombie apocalypse Uncle Chet had so often warned us about."

Congratulations D.L. on devising a sentence/paragraph that makes sense in an almost nonsensical way!

I did also want to also share a couple of Honorable(?) Mentions.

Brian Patrick McKinley:

"The night was moist."

Patrick Casey:

 "Hail!" shouted Nathan Hale over the wail of pale hail that hailed down around him, nailing him in the cranium."

Again, thank you to everyone who entered my little contest! If you didn't win this time around, don't worry, another contest will happen soon, I promise.

If you wish to follow my movements more closely without the use of binoculars, you can find me on Facebook, Twitter (@AllisonHawn), or Goodreads!

Conference Conundrum

Hello, I hope everyone has had a more fabulous week than the thought of a symphony performed entirely by using vegetables as instruments!

We are getting ever closer to that magical time of year, or that time of year where you add a little extra kick to your egg-nog, your choice. If you are still on the hunt for that perfect Christmas gift don't forget Life is a Circus Run by a Platypus!

Half of the proceeds from book sales this month will go to benefit the YWCA in their work to empower women, end racism and help victims of domestic violence!

In other exciting news, I was also interviewed this past week by fellow writer Charissa Dufour on her blog, Too Particular.

So if you wanted to know the inner workings of my mind, I'd suggest you check it out!

Well, I spent the majority of this past week at a, program specific, social work conference with my boss. It's a good thing I have an awesome boss.

Oh, wait, I can't call it a conference because apparently that now has a bad connotation to it thanks to some "conferences" (aka multi-million dollar vacations) held by some members of Congress. I must now call it a "training."

When I mention to people that I am going to a conference, their replies somehow denote that they think that I will be sitting on a beach somewhere with a drink that contains some fruity flavored alcohol complete with little umbrella.

This NEVER Happens

What actually occurs is that we end up sitting in endless seminars and "special luncheon" sessions while someone endlessly verbally ambles about some topic that would be fascinating and educational... if it wasn't what we already did at our jobs every single day.

One seminar I went to was so boring that some lady, in the front row, fell asleep and open-mouthed snored for fifteen minutes.

Not all of the lectures I attended were awful. There was one about how to sell your program's effectiveness to politicians where the lady stood up and basically said, "Make it sound like you're getting people jobs, getting them off of welfare and therefore saving them money. Don't talk about the squishy stuff and make it all about them and you'll be fine," and then sat down.

We all wanted to hug this woman for her honesty.

Another great thing about this conference, I got my own room. Jumping on the beds may or may not have happened.

Apparently this particular conference, I mean "training," also had the unique ability to rob my boss and I, who I like to think of as normally two capable women, of some of our thinking abilities.

At one point my boss and I were in her hotel room working on a project and she picked up a little card that had instructions for who to call if we had questions. My boss read the card and said, "You know, that is the strangest spelling for the name 'Caroline' that I have ever seen!"

I looked at the card and said, "Kim, this is a card telling you to call the Careline."

To be fair, I can't read the word "coworker" without reading "cow-orker" first. 

Then, a little while later I found I had left some materials we needed in my room, which was right across the hall. As I was headed back towards my room I suddenly realized I also had to use the restroom, so I called over my shoulder, "It'll take me a minute, I have to pee."

During this announcement I had been in the process of opening up the hotel room door. And there in the hallway was a man staring at me like I had just smacked him with a fish. 

After a second, I realized that from his perspective I had just flung a door open and announced, quite loudly, to a complete stranger that I had to pee.

We stood there looking at each other for a brief moment before I finally just said, "And now you know," as I strode across the hallway into my own room.

I survived our "training," though, and am now home, rather tired, but mostly unscathed.

I did want to touch on one other quick point with my readers before I scamper away. If you happen to have read and and enjoyed Life is a Circus Run by a Platypus, do me a huge favor, take a few minutes and post a quick review on Amazon or Goodreads.

As a first-time author, good reviews are like gold and will literally make me do the dance that you see to the right of the screen. Thank you so much for all those readers who have posted reviews, your wonderful words mean more than you know!

As always, I hope you all a warm and wonderful week! If you wish to follow my day-to-day exploits you can find me on Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads!

Everyone Just Calm Down!

Hello ladies, gentlemen and the nest of bees that somehow managed to develop in my coat closet.

As you can tell by that previous statement, it has been an interesting week.

Well aside from dealing with a home invasion by bees, watching a little old lady at the the laundromat teach two gang bangers how to do laundry and seeing a man being chased down the street by cops as he yells, "I have the doughnuts!" the week has been relatively calm.

"Life is a Circus Run by a Platypus" has gotten another awesome review from fellow author John Logsdon who writes:

"I think if I were to write up a series of stories about my life, they'd pale in comparison to Allison Hawn's. She has a way of making even the scariest (a 104+ degree temperature comes to mind!) moments quite humorous, though many of her bizarre tales are humorous on their own.

I think my favorite moment was when one of her not-so-bright college dorm mates explained that she had just peed green and Allison replied that the aliens must have gotten to her! So cruel. So mischievous. So...damn...funny.

If you're into reading Dave Barry style articles, "Life is a Circus Run by a Platypus" is for you."

Well, it is the start of a new school year for most universities and colleges, which means it is also the start of many internships and work study terms. I have spoken to quite a few interns and work study students in the past week (both the ones coming to work for the organization I work for and those placed in various agencies around town), and this pretty much the reaction they have all had:

So I have spent a good chunk of time this week talking to interns and finding out why they looked like someone had just told them they had to fight off the Four Riders of the Apocalypse armed only with a shred of tin-foil and a used toilet scrubber.

I have a feeling that a lot of interns and work studies who are just starting out in their placements feel the same amount of overwhelmed panic that I saw on quite a few faces in the past few days. So, for those of you who are starting out as a work study or intern, here are some things to keep in mind.

1. No one expects you to be perfect.

Everyone understands that you are a college student just getting your feet wet in whatever industry you choose to explore. No one at your placement is going to expect that you are coming into this knowing exactly how to react to every situation and do absolutely everything.

I know it's hard to believe, but the supervisors at your site were not born, fully grown, dressed for business and competent, at their desks. Most of us were exactly where you are once upon a time.

2. You will make mistakes, learn from them.

The one thing that I consistently heard this week was the fear that supervisors were going to be expecting interns and work studies to do this:

When in reality they know that you are sometimes going to do this:

It does not matter if you make a mistake. What matters is how you react to the mistake. If you make a mistake and then either wallow in guilt over it or just continue on doing the same thing that caused the mistake the first time, you will frustrate your supervisor.

Instead, view the mistake as a learning experience and apply it to your time at your placement site. Again, supervisors know you are just learning, so prove to them that you are indeed learning and turn mistakes into usable knowledge.

3. Be proactive and productive.

Just because you are free or extremely cheap labor does not mean you get to sit back on your laurels and watch the world go by like some crazy circus-meets-sitcom show.

The world is a lot smaller than you think. Whether this internship seems valuable to your future career or not, or even if you plan on leaving the area where you are attending school, you never know who your supervisors know or who they will run into. It is in your best interest to prove yourself as competent and useful.

The bare minimum is unacceptable. If you get done with what you've been asked to do, look for something else to do to fill your time. If you can't find anything else to do to fill your time, then ask for something to do.

There is nothing that frustrates a supervisor more than seeing an intern or work study sitting on their phone on Facebook next to a group of clients or customers who are obviously being ignored. There is ALWAYS something to do.

4. Be mindful of how new experiences affect you.

I work in social work, where a constant stream of crazy is kind of the norm. I am pretty used to the sight of tweakers dancing in the street and someone telling me that they want me to find them a job working with vampires.

I also realize, this is not everyone's status quo.

Even if you are not in an internship involving social work, it is likely that you are going to run into situations that are not only new, but a little bracing and outside your wheelhouse. If this happens, talk to your supervisor, ask them about it, see what they would suggest in the future for dealing with what you just experienced. No one expects you to come to your placement like this:

You are going to have moments of feeling out of place and vulnerable and that is perfectly o.k. Just make sure you identify those moments and talk with someone more experienced in the field about them so you can get some perspective and assistance with dealing with it. 

5. Get over yourself.

If you come into your placement thinking that you are the coolest thing since CD's and that the people working at these places are there to focus on you and your education let me be the first to say, "STOP!"

The people at your placement sites will help you and want you to learn and have a good experience. However, their goal in life is not to make you happy. Their goal in life is to do their job and make sure that their clients and/or customers are satisfied.

While you shouldn't be afraid to ask for help, don't be shocked if the employees at your placement seem more interested in getting their jobs done than making sure that they hear your epic half-hour long saga of struggle and strife as you fixed the jam in the copier.

Also, remember, your supervisors are not there to provide you with constant entertainment. Sometimes you are going to have boring things to do. This is a part of life. Believe me, I really don't find filing mass amounts of case notes every week to be the most fun I've ever had in my entire life, but is a part of my job and therefore I have to do it.

Doing entry level work is not an insult, it's a starting point. If you prove that you can do the basics, then you will get to do more interesting things, but don't take it for granted that your supervisors are going to make your placement the Disneyland of work sites.

6. Remember that it is your choice whether this will be a helpful experience or not.

When it comes to internships and work study placements, you only get out what you put into your time at your site.

I was an intern for a police department for a semester during my college career. I could easily have stayed in the back, filing papers and typing up reports. Instead, I jumped at every opportunity I got to experience something new.

Because I invested my energy, was curious and willing to try new things, I got to go on cop car ride-alongs, help interview criminals for intake and learned a ton about how the criminal justice system works on the ground level.  Just don't miss the opportunity to give yourself an awesome experience.

Well, anyways, I hope that helps some of you headed towards your first internship to stop looking like an incoming semi-truck driven by drunk lemurs is heading your way. Good luck!

Remember you can always follow my escapades on Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads!

Gross

Hello all you lovely people, I hope your week has been more fantastic than the thought of a thousand rabbits on mini-bikes chasing Richard Simmons!

I received this picture and description this week from Rachel Dickerson:

 "Just finished an extremely entertaining and HILARIOUS short novel by an amazing new author. Congrats Allison I look forward to your next book." 

Thank you Rachel! And thank you to all of you who have read and provided me with feedback on Life is a Circus Run by a Platypus! Your wonderful words have been so encouraging!

So this past week one of the biggest new stories of the year broke. Syria... oh wait, sorry, never mind, wrong one. The biggest story of modern memory, according to the media, is that Miley Cyrus was caught on stage at the MTV Music Video Awards dancing provocatively along with
Robin Thicke.

Ok, first I would like to state that "provocatively" might be a strong term. I'm not sure who found Miley's tongue being stuck out of the side of her mouth for a majority of the performance "sexy." She looked like a giraffe.

No seriously, how can this:

Not remind you a bit of this:

Miley, I realize that you desperately want everyone to know that you are not a little girl anymore, and that you've become an adult. However this look: 

Doesn't so much scream, "I'm an adult!" 

Instead it really screams, "You're not the boss of me anymore! I can do what I want! I don't have a bedtime anymore! <insert other almost meaningless rebellious statements here>"

Miley, if you want to be taken seriously as an "adult" performer, dressing up as a teddy bear and running around displaying less class than a backwoods Arkansas trailer park is not going to get you there.

Also, please don't promote this kind of behavior, you have thousands of young teenage fans whose tongues I really don't want to see hanging out of their mouths.

And that is all I have to say about Miley, but not all I have to say about this "media sensation."

My actual first thought upon seeing the video clip, that I could not have avoided unless I poked my eyes out with a spork, was not, "Wow, Miley is being super provocative."

My first blush response was, "Wow, Robin Thicke is something that rhymes with is last name (you have a couple of options there, choose the one you find most useful)."

So far the harshest mass media criticism has been on what he chose to wear:

Granted his outfit made him an easy choice to star in any "Beetlejuice" sequels that might be in the future, but that isn't his only similarity to Beetlejuice's character.

Robin Thicke's behavior was downright creepy.

Yes, I said creepy.

Standing up in front of a live crowd of thousands, as a married 36 year old man, and dancing "provocatively" with a 20 year old, who is dressed in a little girl-esque teddy bear outfit (followed by flesh tone underwear), while singing a song that promotes the acceptance of rape culture is CREEPY!"

And yes, that song is garbage. I don't care what you say to defend the tonal atrocity, it promotes disrespecting women. If the lyrics included, "And then I asked her, politely, if she wanted to dance," or "I told her that I would like to take her out to a nice dinner," and the song wasn't titled "Blurred Lines," then I might be willing to hear arguments to the contrary.

Just because it is kind of catchy (in that heard-this-beat-a-million-times-before kind of way) does not make it a good song.

The fact that all the headlines are screaming, "Miley Cyrus Did XYZ!" and not "Robin Thicke Did XYZ," scares me. The media acts shocked that a woman would be acting this way (even though we know they are not in the slightest) but it gives no such, albeit fake, surprised response to Thicke's performance.

It deeply concerns me that a father being an absolute cad on stage while singing, "That's why I'm goin' to take a good girl, I know you want it," is considered so normal that it barely receives any mention.

Also, what a great example to be setting for your son, Robin! He's not being influenced to grow up and treat women like objects at all. (There is enough sarcasm dripping from that statement that you could wring it out and fill a bucket, just in case you didn't catch that.)

Well thank you Robin Thicke, now the next time someone asks me why I still believe that feminism has a place in America, I now can point to you emphatically as my example A.

What was your reaction to the "media sensation" that has been, oh so subtly, shoved down your throat for the past week?

As always, feel free to follow my exploits on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads!

Something To Be Tempted By

Hello! I hope everyone had a week that was more satisfying than that scene in "Jurassic Park" where the T-Rex ate the lawyer. You know, this scene:

Well it has been a crazy week for me. Everything from the man in the wheel chair who followed me down the street barking and growling at me, to the nude tweaker I had to help herd out of the street so he wouldn't get hit by a car to the lady who informed me that two of her personalities weren't talking to one another, made for one very special week.

The sad part is, the full moon isn't even until next week. Well at least it might provide material for a sequel to "Life is a Circus Run by a Platypus," right?

Well, luckily, my week had a good point too. I had a chance to read a wonderful book by Denise Greenwood called "Temptation."

Denise Greenwood's darkly humorous and poignant work, "Temptation," is a captivating read. The book immerses the reader into the lives of the characters as they both deal with their own inner struggles and find themselves intertwined in the stories of others.

Denise's characters feel distinct and authentic, not just in their personal battles and desires, but in the way that they talk, react to one another and think. "Temptation" holds a reader's attention as each character's unique story unfolds to reveal new and deeper details that lend to a larger, compelling story. I would recommend "Temptation" to anyone who truly wants to lose themselves in a book for a while, I promise you will find yourself forgetting about the outside world entirely.

I not only got to read and review this work, but I also snagged an interview with Denise!  

 

What inspired you to start writing?

It was a childhood dream, like some kids want to be ballet dancers or astronauts, I always wanted to write but found I had nothing to say. My life became geared to a career and family, then, after a traumatic couple of years I found I had experiences and events I had to get out of my system and an idea came to me. The storyline for my first book "Temptation" slowly formed in my mind and I thought about it for a year before I finally sat down one day to see if I could write. To my surprise, I wrote the first chapter in one sitting and knew then that I had to continue. I was compelled.

You have a plethora of unique characters in "Temptation," how did come up with not only your characters, but their distinct stories?

Characters are an amalgamation of people I know, once knew and myself if split into several personalities. Some of their very distinct stories are based on actual events doctored to fit the storyline and character. For example the chapter ‘A Kiss for Bobby’ actually happened but it was told as an important aspect of one of the character’s lives.

Which of your characters was your favorite to write?

Reverend Jacob Alecks who appears in both ‘Temptation’ and ‘Star Keeper’ has to be my favourite. His suffering, confusion, decline into semi-madness in full public view and then surprise at the consequences was like watching a child grow up. He matured and evolved as I wrote.

How many of your characters are based on people you actually know? How many of those people, if any, realize that you've based characters in your book after them?

Each character is a mixture of traits, conversations and experiences of people I know mixed with a sprinkling of self and then a spoonful of imagination. I would be very amused if any of the people recognized something of themselves in any of my books and that is a luxury only a writer, actor or film maker can enjoy.

 What was your favorite part about the whole writing experience?

The whole process is cathartic and releases ghosts and demons that would otherwise be without a voice. As I write, I come to terms with personal events and the crazy things people say and do. If I had to compare it with anything, then it is like Mr Hyde being able to release Dr Jekyll on a leash.

If you could open a restaurant with any literary character (from your book or not) who would it be?

Tommy Knight from ‘Temptation’ goes on into my second book ‘Star Keeper’ and opens my ideal restaurant, a bistro-bookshop. He combines fine dining and wine with reading and debate. But, if I could choose someone I would run it with then it would have to be Annie Kinsella from the adaptation of W.P. Kinsella’s ‘Shoeless Joe.’ I love free spirits who will stand up for what they believe in even if it’s unconventional.

What kind of a response from readers has "Temptation" been receiving? 

I loved a review that described "Temptation" as “unique and risky” but quite a few readers have told me that they “laughed out loud” at some of the chapters. My story lines are often quite serious at heart and characters deeply layered but by using humour I diffuse otherwise tense and shocking scenes. It has been personally gratifying to hear my books described so.

If you are interested in finding a copy of "Temptation" it is on Amazon, Kobo and Barnes and Noble.

Remember you can always follow my adventures on Facebook, Goodreads and Twitter!