Speaking of books- I have a release out today. Lux in Shadow is now available at Samhain Publishing.

No matter how many times it happens, I’m still all jittery and nervous. Excerpts? Jittery and nervous. I’m afraid I’ll get the equivalent of rotten cyber tomatoes tossed at my head for pretending to be a writer. I know. I know. I’m a spaz.

Surprise.

Fear is my biggest mountain in this lifetime. To list all the things that make me shiver would be laughably long. Today I’m conquering fear of failure. Jury is still out on that one. I’ll get back to you later. LOL

So, my biggest fear? Failure and public humiliation. And spiders.

My agent calls last week to tell me my editor at Kensington wants to give me a three book deal. Do I jump up and down and scream? Nope. I was calm and collected, discussed contract details and percentages and sell-through.

I’m a professional, damn it.

And then an enormous red spider appears out of nowhere and charges me.

I screamed. I ran. I grabbed a shoe. I continued squealing high-pitched, little girl style as I pounded the spider into goo.

All while my agent was on the phone with me listening in.

My fear of spiders makes my fear of public humiliation come true. Thanks, Spidy! Hope you enjoy pestilent hades!

My agent listens to me spaz for about five minutes on my fear of things with too many legs. She sympathizes…but the conversation really comes down to my only worst fear not being realized is that of total failure. Thank gawd for book deals. They really perk up the self-esteem.

There’s been a lot of talk at the Olympics about Michael Phelps surpassing Mark Spitz’s record of seven gold medals. Frankly, I’m kind of tired of it. I think he is too. Talk about pressure. Everytime he finished a great swim exhibiting guts, grit and class, the stupid media would ask him about the NEXT race. They didn’t even let him enjoy the moment.
But the media has pissed me off in several ways. I’ve been ranting about this since the opening ceremonies when Bob Costas stated that the small country of Benin should “..enjoy the opening ceremony since chances are they won’t win any medals.”
Then, every news network pounded away at how the opening ceremonies were “creepy” and sending “political messages”. Here’s my opinion.
Does China have human rights issues? Absolutely.
Is China sending the message to the rest of the world that they’re a superpower and they’re HERE? Absolutely.
Should all of that be constant fodder during Olympic coverage? No!
If our country decides to participate (and we could boycott as we have in the past) then we ought to be gracious to the country who hosts the games. Sure we have political differences with China. Hell, we have political differences with Canada. So what?
Don’t include your vicious ethnocentric politics in my Olympic experience.
And quit blathering on about how many gold medals we have versus the rest of the world. I think the media is missing the point. The Olympics are exactly what R.G. said they were. They’re the story of Kristy Coventry who represented the country of Zimbabwe. A small country in turmoil and poverty who pinned their hopes on one swimmer for a small victory on a world stage. Or Lopez Lamong, who carried the U.S. flag. He was kidnapped from his Sudanese parents but once paid to watch a black and white t.v broadcast of the 2000 Olympics. He watched Michael Johnson run and a dream was born. No matter where he places in the 1500 meter race, he is a hero to come as far as he has.
No matter what country, or what circumstances, or what race, all of these athletes are the best of the best. They have to reach a minimum standard that is more than any of us could ever reach.
So perhaps, those athletes from Benin are bigger heroes than anyone just watching the competition. Perhaps they are already golden.
After all, no matter how many medals are won or how many records are broken, every one of them can say “I was in the Olympics. I had a shot at Gold.”

I am not a sports fanatic…by any means. Normally, I only watch sports when it comes down to the “finals” for basketball and football. However, this past week…I don’t think I’ve watched this much sports in my life. But, it’s not just about the sports. It’s about the spirit of the games. How many times can so many people join together from that many countries, nationalities, religions and just enjoy the competition by representing their country?

The opening of the games was awesome! Watching all those world records and olympic records being broken was awesome. I will forever remember these names Dara Torres, Jason Lezak, Nastia Liukin, Wei Yang, Usain Bolt ….Michael Phelps.

However.

I always get roped in by the diving. Always. The swimming. And hub loves beach volleyball, and while I’m unconvinced, it has been neat to watch with someone who isn’t just ogling the girls in swimsuits. I’ve missed a lot of the gymnastics this year, and haven’t really…missed it, which is strange, since it used to be my favorite.

I’ve decided, however, we need to have “real people olympics”. I mean, this ‘best of the best’ thing is cool, but how about “the best of the average”.

We could have Urban Olympic Events: hailing a cab in NYC rush hour. Avoiding eye contact on the subway. How quick can you get Mace out of your pocket?

We could have Country Olympics: Cow-milking, anyone? Hay baling?

And my fave: The Mom-of-Four Olympic events. Cooking with one baby on hip, two orbitting you like small planets, and one insistent on playing with a Dawg who doesn’t like him.

Bathtime.

How to wield a ten-pound sledge and twenty-pound baby. (or home renos for mom’s.)

Yeah. It’s a good thing I’m not in charge of the world.

But every four years we have the Olympics. Yes its still a competition, but its also a symbol of our connection. We come together; athletes from every country striving for excellence, supporters from every community cheering in the stands, huddled around television sets together. Politicians may use that time to make grandiose statements or backdeals…but for us…well for us I think the Olympics symbolize something to strive for.

The flag that waves:

Five interlocking rings that represent “the coming together of five parts of the world, joining in healthy competition”. To me it symbolizes how we are bound together. Different but necessary to eachother.

The Olympic Torch:

There is a lot of ritual around the lighting of the torch. “Months before the Games are held, the Olympic Flame is lit on a torch, with the rays of the Sun concentrated by a parabolic reflector, at the site of the Ancient Olympics in Olympia, Greece. The torch is then taken out of Greece, most often to be taken around the country or continent where the Games are held…the day of the Opening Ceremony, the Flame reaches the main stadium and is used to light a cauldron situated in a prominent part of the venue to signify the beginning of the Games. Then it is left to burn throughout the Games till the Closing Ceremony, when it is extinguished to signify the end of the Games. “

Fire was stolen from the gods by Prometheus so that he could give that knowledge to mankind, for which he was creatively punished. Fire not only sustains us physically, it also represents the spirit that burns within us, and the light of the mind that forces us to discover, to create, to grow.

Passing the torch is a saying for sharing our knowledge with the next generation, so that they may replace and yes, surpass us.

The original Olympic games were a series of athletic competitions between various city-states in Greece around the 776 BC . During the games ekecheiria  or a truce was observed. No armies were allowed to enter the area, wars were suspended and the use of the death penalty forbidden. Also the athletes were naked. A tradition that has, unfortunately, been revised.

Our fascination with the great ancient society eventually revived our interest in the games. And since then, they’ve been a moment out of time. A moment where we look forward to joining with other cultures of the world in a shared love of excellence and perserverance. A shared fascination with the stories of unbending will, unyielding spirit. A shared hope for unity and victory in the face of insurmountable odds.

During the games, we remember we are one human race. More alike than different, more connected than we can even comprehend. As long as that fire is lit, and that golden medallion of triumph beckons us to be the best, we are united.

Gotta love the Olympics.

Me? I generally hates sports. All sports. I’ll watch the Superbowl if someone invites me to a party. And only if I’m pretty sure there will be awesome food at the party. Other than that? Meh. I might catch a little ice skating occasionally, maybe some gymnastics. That’s about it.

But I watch the Olympics like an OCD little kid on speedballs. I sit. I watch. For two weeks straight. No, seriously. I didn’t move from my chair all weekend. I got some writing done and I watched the Olympics. That’s it.

Why? I have no freakin’ clue. Maybe I feel a little patriotic, but I’m cool cheering for the UK since I have family there. Or Canada, cuz Dayna’s up there and I have a soft spot for Cannucks. Even Australia because they have awesome accents. Or the long shot people the announcers say don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell.

I don’t even like most of the events. I don’t like swimming or cycling or basketball or rowing or shot-put or sprinting, but I watch because it’s just so cool to see people out there representing their country. I love that victory look on their faces when they realize they won a medal. I love it when people have their national anthem playing and they cry.

So, for the next two weeks or so, I’ll be glued to the tube, watching people do their thing in the name of patriotism and personal glory. I even found a nifty widget to help keep track of medal counts. Can’t wait to see what they do for the closing ceremony since the show for the opening ceremony was pretty cool. Those bazillion synchronized drummers were wicked awesome.

Olympic Medal winners at NBC Olympics.com!

What does this have to do with Finding Mr. Right? Everything.

I have a theory. It’s really profound. Here it goes. Everyone on earth is annoying. I told you it was profound. So, how do we find Mr. Right? We find the person whose irritating habits are the least offensive to us. Just because someone bugs your neighbor doesn’t mean they’ll bug you. In other words, every pot has its lid.

For years I flitted through the dating pool looking for the guy for me. It was tough though because my standards were…odd. And the only one who could meet them was someone equally as odd. Finally I met and married someone that most women would probably not be able to live with. He has an IQ in the top .01 percent. He makes his hand talk in a really high pitched voice and sing eighties love ballads, he calls it Mr. Hand and acts like it has a separate personality. He cares way too much about obscure military strategy and he makes monkey noises and pretends to hump my leg.

He’s perfect.

He’s also annoying. He ends almost every thing I say with, “Your mom _____” For instance, if I say, “Can you take out the garbage?” nine out of ten times he will respond with, “Your mom takes out the garbage.” I don’t know why he does this, he just does. He whines like a child when he gets tired or sick. He leaves piles of clothes behind the bathroom door like he has no idea what a washer is.

But that’s okay. He’s always been this way. He was this way before we got married. Almost immediately after we got married he did the laundry behind the door thing and I castigated him for it. And he made a reference to the Native American story of the boy who carries the rattlesnake down the mountain and gets bitten for it. I told him he needed to pick up his laundry and he gave me that dimpled smile that never seems to get any less boyish no matter old he gets and told me, “You knew what I was when you picked me up.”

And that’s the long and short of the way I feel about my characters and their romances. As I mentioned, taking people for themselves is the deepest running thread through all of my stories. I strongly feel the need to repeat over and over that people are what they are and they aren’t like dresses made for hemming. You don’t pick someone up expecting them to change. One of my heroes, Chandler, is irascible and short tempered. He’s a perfectionist and basically he’s kind of a jerk. The heroine not only knows what he is and accepts that, she gets a little kick out of it. That’s a match made in heaven right there.

So the long and short of it is that finding Mr. Right for you can be hard, but that doesn’t mean he needs to be perfect for everyone. Just for that heroine, just in that book. When you have two characters who just connect the right way, it doesn’t matter how little they fit the rest of the world. Sometimes two very oddly shaped puzzle pieces just fit right together. And that’s the secret of making a perfect match. You heard it here first.

AJ

Anyway….back to rewinding time. For me, summer is over. I go back to work on Monday (tomorrow). But if it were possible, I’d love to go back to June and find myself again on that beautiful white beach in Destin, Florida. Then, move slowly to July to the family vacation to D.C. And then, move turtle slow through the last few weeks and hold steady to the end of July. LOL…I know…NOT possible. But a person can dream…can’t she?

Although….being the book geek that I am…I can’t wait to stand in the middle of my library and be surrounded by all those books again.