The Rules for Books in the Toilet

Dear Australia,

I know you're currently suffering a massive toilet paper shortage. You've stripped all supermarket shelves clean. However will you wipe your butts?

A travesty, I know.

What you may not know, having been the Lucky Country for so long, and have previously had a never-ending supply of Sorbent or Quilton, that once upon a time, people didn't always use bog rolls for keeping the nether regions clean.

In 19th Century United States, last season's Sears catalogue and last year's Farmer's Almanac were traditionally found in Ye Olde Outhouse. Even in the 20th Century, the poorer people around the world made do with yesterday's newspapers for their doo-doo.

But now, with the Great Toilet Paper Shortage of 2020, will you turn to...

Books? *gasp*

While literary types and regular patrons of Elizabeth's might be falling into a swoon, let's face it. It might come to that. If you do choose a mighty tome to replace the long-lost toilet roll, please follow these rules:

1. Remember, everyone is reading the same book. Please be considerate.
2. For every loo visit, you must read x + 1 pages, where x = the number of people in your household. This rule also applies for men popping in for a pee. Yeah, you might not be using any pages, but if you don't keep up, you might miss out on a scene.
3. You are allowed only ONE PAGE from the book for wiping. Otherwise, your housemates may hunt you down and see how good your memory is.  Remember, if you use more than one page, they might not have read up that far. 
4. ONLY TEAR FROM THE FRONT OF THE BOOK!!!  It is a travesty to tear from the back of the book. They who wipe their butt with the climax of the story before its time ruins the ending for all.

Just saying, my novel God of the Dark is available in print and currently is cheaper than a pack of toilet paper. Also unlike a pack of toilet paper, you can actually buy a copy. (I swear, TP can't be had for love nor money off most Australian grocery store shelves.)

Okay, so what if you buy the even cheaper ebook version of God of the Dark but you still need to keep clean?

Here's how to use newspaper instead:

1. Fetch in that free Community Newspaper some poor kid keeps leaving on your driveway. Be sure to get it before your Watering Days or your neighbour pinches it.
2. Open it up and press each sheet with a hot iron. No, really. Ironing your newspaper will set the ink and prevent it from leaving inky black streaks in your nethers.
3. Pre-cut newspaper into squares. Tearing it at time of use is only a recipe for disaster.
4. Just before wiping, give the newspaper several rounds of crinkling up. This will open the fibers and improve the absorption properties.
5. Don't flush it! Your sewer system really can't handle it. Please dispose of thoughtfully in the trash can. I recommend a sealed bucket, if the scent of the tissue may become bothersome.

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Her Grace is sorely wishing she'd installed a bidet when Kneale Manor was built.

What are you chewing on, cat?

This morning as I waited for Their Ladyships to get their acts together, I sat on the couch in the wan hours of dawn and watched the cat play with something.

This is not unusual; he is a cat, after all. His preferences lie with certain objects like ping pong balls (because they roll), hair ties and elastic bands (because they, um... stretch) and My Little Ponies (because he's... a Brony?). He has also been known to chew up Loom Band bracelets and the remains of party balloons. Loves them, actually.

If you may recall from a few weeks ago, His Grace learned how many things are difficult when one is missing a functional thumb.

One of those thing is bathing. Until the graft healed, he had to shower with his entire right hand encased in a plastic bag, taped for waterproofness. Not only did this make his life awkward, but also meant his hand wasn't getting cleaned.

After a couple of weeks he asked his thumb therapist if there was anything he could do about his unwashed hand. The thumb therapist told him that for the purpose of washing his hand (only!!, no full shower or dishwashing or watersports), he could encase his thumb in a condom, securing it with an elastic band.

No problem. Condoms are easy enough to source in Australia, so he procured one and secured it to his thumb in the proscribed manner. He proceeded, much to his relief, to wash the rest of his hand. This was done as needed, and the rest of the time he washed the rest of His Grace, he still bagged up his hand.

The condom was removed, placed in a secure place on the bathroom bench and reused as required. This is one of the only two purposes I know of when it is advised to reuse condoms. (The other being to keep the sand out of the end of your military rifle when at war in the desert.) So yeah, he hung on to that condom.

Back to this morning. The cat is playing with something on the floor. Looked like a hair band, or was it a balloon?

As my morning brain attempted to parse this strange object, he pinned it down with a paw, grabbed a bit, and puuuullled!  Boy, could it stretch, then it snapped back.

Only then did I recognise it.

No, cat, you may not chew on a condom.

The Periodic Table of the Elements for Astronomers

TASE Day, as it's nearly the end of the [Australian] Summer Holidays, which  means if one is out observing the heavens, one is not having to worry about freezing one's patootie off, nor having to get up early for school.

Today I present you with...

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Her Grace observes with a five-inch Celestron on an equatorial mount.

Why I love escapism

I've always been a fan of escapism.  Life is hard, reality can really suck, especially if you're powerless to change most of it.

To that end, to preserve one's sanity, a bit of escapism is required.

Luke Ski understands.

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Her Grace's primary reason for writing is to offer escapism to fellow human beings who desperately need it.  Life getting you down? Go read one of my books. I promise, you'll feel better.

& (Ampersand)

Looks like a treble clef sometimes.

I love how the English alphabet once considered the stylish ampersand (&) a letter of its own.

I'll use it from time to time as it was intended, but only in casual speech--never formal.

I know it represents the latin 'et', meaning 'and'. Who doesn't? It arose as a form of shorthand that stuck in common usage.

I can understand why it was removed from the English alphabet and have no quarrels over it's demotion.

Question: What are your thoughts on the ampersand as a letter of the alphabet?

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Her Grace will have a soft spot for the ampersand but will not lend it any additional airs or graces.

Happy Australia Day!!

We take a break from all the candy hearts to bring you some delicious Australia Day Lamb.

Happy Australia Day!  

Have you got lamb for the barbie? To show how important it is, here's a few reminders:

Forget shrimp--throw some lamb on the barbie and have a Happy Australia Day, mate!

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Her Grace prefers thick mint sauce.

I have cool friends...

Like Michael Collings, who gave me the best punchline for the following joke:

Stephenie Meyer, JK Rowling and Heidi Kneale walk into a bar and the bartender says..., "Hi Heidi. Who are your two friends?"

600 Year Old Butt Song From Hell

See this guy's butt?

It's got the music of the damned tattooed all over it. What sin did this guy commit to get his own cursed song inked into his behind?

Here's a pullback shot of the picture:

And here's the whole triptych by Hieronymus Bosch - "The Garden of Earthly Delights":

Anyhow, some genius student by name of Amelia from Oklahoma Christian University noticed this guy's shame in a painting. After she and a mate had snickered over it a while (embarrassment is part of this guy's penance for his sin. Man, what did he do?) she decided to transcribe it.

I'm liking Amelia. She's a music/arts major with a bit of computer science thrown in. This is exactly the sort of whackadoodle thing I would have done at university.

Apparently I'm not the only one who's intrigued by her music.  Will, the wellmanicuredman, was also taken by this cursed little tune and he did a rather lovely arrangement, with lyrics. I can't embed it here, so go listen to it. You'll like it.

I wish I knew the guy's original sin. Must have been a doozy, because here we are, six hundred years later, giving him grief.

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Her Grace's blog post today is brought to you by a love of music, a strange sense of humour and TASE Day.

Some favourite jokes

(Yeah, For Richer, For Poorer is out in five days. Go buy it.)

I thought I'd share some of my favourite jokes. Caution: some of them may not be entirely suitable for children. Even the fart joke, but only because they simply won't get it.

My favourite fart joke:

It was Great-Grandma's 100th birthday, so all her descendants threw her a big party. They wheeled Great-Grandma into the room so everyone could wish her well and have a great time.

One of her grandsons noticed she was leaning over a bit in her wheelchair. "Here, Grandma. Let me help you." So he propped her up with a pillow.

A few minutes later a granddaughter noticed she was leaning the other way. "Let me help you," she said as she propped her up with another pillow.

Several minutes later a great-grandchild comes up to her and says, "So, how are you enjoying the party, Grandma?"

"It's terrible!" she replied. "Nobody will let me break wind."

My favourite gay joke:

A son comes home from university for the holidays with a big announcement. He finds his mother in the kitchen, working on Christmas dinner. "I have something to tell you." He hesitates. "I'm gay."

His mother, stirring a big pot of potatoes, doesn't say anything. 

"Um, Mom, did you hear me?"

She draw a deep breath. "I heard you, son." But says nothing more.

"So...?"

But his mom keeps stirring those potatoes. Eventually, she says, "So this means you like men?"

"Yeah."

"So, you sleep with them, right?"

The son squirms. "Uh, yeah."

She keeps stirring those potatoes. "So you suck on their dicks then?"

"MOM!"

"Just answer the question."

The son hangs his head. "Yes," he mutters.

His mother takes her stirring spoon out of her pot and whacks him upside the head. "I know what that tastes like. Don't you ever complain about my cooking again!"

My favourite postman joke:

It was Barry the Postman's last day on the job before he retired. As he did his final rounds, grateful folk gave him cards and gifts to celebrate his retirement.

At one home the lovely young housewife invited him inside, took him upstairs and gave him the best sex of his life. Then she brought him downstairs and fed him the most amazing breakfast--waffles with strawberries and whipped cream. 

As Barry the Postman was finishing up, he noticed a dollar under the coffee cup. "What's this for?"

"Well," replied the housewife, "when I told my husband you were retiring and I wanted to do something nice for you, he said, 'Screw him. Give him a buck.' Breakfast was my idea."

My favourite lightbulb joke:

How many humans does it take to screw in a lightbulb? 
Two, but they have to be really, really small.

My favourite chicken-crossing-road series:

Why did the chicken cross the road?
To get to the other side.

Why did the whale cross the road? 
To get to the other tide.

Why did the frog cross the road?
He was stapled to the chicken.


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Her Grace loves a good joke.  What are some of your favourites?

One more week...

Ohmigosh!

Only one more week until the release of:

 

So exciting!

 

Where to get it:

 

The Wild Rose Press (my excellent publisher!)

Amazon (pre-order available)

All Romance Ebooks

Kobo Books (currently rated #142 in Historical Fantasy!)

 

In honour of my current ranking in Kobo Books, here's a video of The Ballad of Irving (The 142nd Fastest Gun in the West):

 

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Her Grace is more excited about this book release than Christmas. The best gift for her is if you bought a copy to give to someone else.

 

Randomosity for Friday Fun

In school I studied a lot about orbital resonance, also other things that make sound (not noise) in space. As I'm still a bit groggy from staying up to see Philae's successful landing, I now offer you Comet 67P/Churyumov-Gerasimenko singing "Flight of the Bumblebee".

As I wended my way along the local roads the other day, I saw this sign:

True dat.  However, one must weigh up the horrors of being eaten by the undead, or being eaten alive by a Crossfit Assassin Trainer.

Meanwhile, what are you reading this weekend? Only 40 more days until For Richer, For Poorer comes out.

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Her Grace is suddenly motivated to go for a jog.

Happy November

November the 0 (aka 31 October) was Editor Appreciation Day, so I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate Claudia Fallon, my editor at at The Wild Rose Press. She edited For Richer, For Poorer (out 22 Dec 2014).

Of course, it's NaNoWriMo. I, along with a whole lotta other authors, are cranking out 50K words for the month. That's 1665 words a day--a doddle! Unless of course you've never done that sort of thing before. Then it'll spin your head out. Good luck with your novelling. Keep up with me on NaNoWriMo.org.

In other  news, Her Endearing Young Charms, has been selected as an OWW's Editor's Choice for the month.  Read what editor CC Finlay had to say about this in the OWW-SFF Newsletter.

I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving later on. Australians don't celebrate Thanksgiving. Don't even have a similar holiday just for gratitude. Alas. But as I was raised in the American Tradition, I love Thanksgiving. So I will be gathering my extended Australian family and showing them this completely humble tradition. As none of us get Thursday off, we will celebrate on Saturday.

And now for some randomosity:

Here is a funny video of penguins falling over.

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Her Grace has finished her term paper on Orbital Resonance and is now looking forward to writing something completely different.

No Skeletons in Her Closet

Have you read my short story "The Skeleton in Her Closet"?

la calavera catrina by dantetyler,
a lovely, talented artist.
Go buy a print.

If not, go get it RIGHT NOW, as it's free: Penumbra Magazine, April 2013

All downloaded? Good. Read my story. I'll wait until you get back.

...

Okay, did you enjoy that?

Aside from having you read a fun little story, I've got another little story of my own.

Today, something very much like "The Skeleton in Her Closet" happened to me.

Last week a friend of someone I know died (peacefully in her sleep of old age). Her husband gave all her clothes to the someone I know. As the clothes didn't fit her, someone I know passed them on to me, as I was of a similar size.

A dead woman's clothes?

COOL!

Their Ladyships and I had so much fun sorting through and sizing them up. There were bags and bags of some rather nice items. Nothing quite as exciting as the closet Janet inherited, but there were some lovely things I shall enjoy.

There were so many my blouse wardrobe has doubled, and that's me keeping only half of what I was given.

The only disappointment? No skeleton.

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Her Grace is sporting a lovely pair of slouch-about-the-house cotton trousers in a gentle pink. So comfy!

My Contemporary Humour Novel--The Cat Came Back

I outlined but never got more than a chapter or two into this novel. I really like TCCB. I think it has a clever plot and some really good slapstick, but I didn't  l o v e  it enough to complete it. My heart was more into Fantasy and Romance, than contempo comedy. Still, it was a bit of fun.

Desperate for money, college student Sally takes on a cat-sitting job, but not for any old cat. Fluffy was the completely spoiled pet of dying socialite Amanda Harris. Amanda loved Fluffy so much that she left her entire fortune to the cat, much to the chagrin of her grasping relatives.

Can she do that? According to her attorney, absolutely. Also, once Amanda passes on, Sally is guaranteed a job for as long as Fluffy lives--may Fluffy have a very long line, Sally hopes.

Sally's day is shattered when, two days after Amanda's funeral, Fluffy is found dead. In panic she rushes the dead tabby straight to the vet Thomas. Sally's hopes are crushed. But Thomas has a plan: get another cat.  Fluffy was not anything special breed-wise.  Like Sally, Thomas also had a financial interest in Fluffy's long life.

Thus, Fluffy was replaced by Fluffy II. 

Two days later, bailiffs show up to throw Sally out of the house. After all, she can't live there if the cat is dead. "But Fluffy's not dead," she tells the bailiffs, and produces her "proof" in the form of one irate cat. The bailiffs leave, bemused.

It's only then Sally suspects the relatives had killed the original Fluffy. She calls Amanda's attorney with her suspicions. Amanda's attorney, likewise, has a financial interest in a live Fluffy. The attorney doesn't know that this Fluffy is a replacement. He has Thomas the vet ascertain that this is indeed Fluffy, and is satisfied.

A week later, Fluffy II is found dead. Another panicked call to Thomas, who produces Fluffy III. 

Sally grows concerned. Fluffy II was definitely poisoned. She worries that eventually the relatives, eager to get their hands on Fluffy's money, will manage to successfully prove Fluffy's death.

Sally can't exactly go to the police, for that will reveal her complicity in replacing a dead cat. Nevertheless, she ups the security at the house, and does her best to keep Fluffy inside.

For the next few months several more attempts are made on Fluffy's life, some failing, some successful. 

One day, Fluffy goes missing. A window Sally always kept locked is discovered open. Calling upon Thomas once more, she heads out into the neighborhood in hopes of finding Fluffy alive.

Alas, it's too late, in all senses. Sally and Thomas find a dead Fluffy, the victim of a car. The driver had stopped and called the police... because the driver was one of Amanda's relatives. The police are bemused as to why someone called them about a dead cat, until the will is produced.  

Sally is given twenty-four hours to vacate the premises. 

She refuses to back down without a fight. Convinced this is a case of murder she reviews the security footage to discover the relatives entering the house, disarming the alarm and stealing the cat. (They had a key and the alarm code.) To throw Sally off the track, they left a window open. However, they hadn't known about the security cameras, and thus were caught.

Sally and the attorney take the footage to the police, and the relatives are busted. Because Fluffy VIII died under suspicious causes, Amanda's will decreed that all her wealth go to the Thomas the vet's cat shelter. After all, that's where Amanda got the first Fluffy, who had been her most loving companion for the rest of Amanda's life (unlike the rellies).

This clause surprises everyone, including Thomas. As for Sally, Amanda left her enough money to finish school.

Since I may never write this book, I thought I'd share the outline with you so you can enjoy it.

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Her Grace has novels she may never write.

The Alot is Skillful

This is an Alot:

He's pretty good at lots of stuff, as Hyperbole and a Half explains: Alot is better than you at everything.

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Her Grace enjoys a dry sense of humour.  She also has a loinfruit bugging her alot this morning. She's got to go rescue the alot.

Top Six Ways to Hide a Book

For those of us addicted to books, we have had times we've needed to hide what we're reading, or even that we were reading. (Hello, my name is Heidi and I'm a chronic reader...)

I've had more than my fair share of getting in trouble in class for reading novels. And then, in the 80's, I had to hide the fact I was reading trashy Historical Romance bodice-rippers with fuschia covers.

Here's my Top Six Ways to Hide a Book:

1. Hiding it behind another book (usually a textbook). Classic hide. Can also use a folder/clipboard or a magazine. I have seen some Classic Literature book covers to hide our favourite Trashy Books.
2. Bag it. Keep the book in a purse or a pencil case. Sneak a read while looking to dig around in your purse.
3. Book covers. In junior high, all our textbooks had to be covered. Most people used brown bag paper--cheap, plentiful and... opaque. So, is that a pocket dictionary or a Jude Deveraux on my desk?
4. Camoflauge. DVD cases, cereal boxes, anything square-shaped and book-sized can hide a book. Doesn't even have to be square-shaped. I've seen book covers that look like teddy bears (If you consider being seen carrying around a teddy bear preferable to carrying around a copy of Fifty Shades of Gray or Lady Chatterley's Lover). 
5. eBook reader. If you don't mind letting people know you're reading, but don't want them to what you're reading, an ebook reader hides the identity of your novel from your fellow bus-passengers. Also, it's really easy to disguise an ebook reader as a tablet. Are you reading a cozy mystery, or are you browsing Facebook?
6. Different format: audiobooks are the commuter's friend. Also, stick your iPod earphones in, and nobody knows you're listening to a book, especially if you include a rhythmic head-bop. Ebooks on phones?  For all your fellow commuters know, you're playing Angry Birds.

How have you hidden your reading habit?  Or are you out of the closet?  Or are you in a twelve-step?

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Her Grace has had an issue with reading when/what she wasn't supposed to.  Thus, the background in literature subterfuge.

Randomosity

What a week!  I haven't been this busy in a long time.  A whole lotta stuff Happened at once.  While I try to unburden my life from unnecessary stress, sometimes one can't avoid a whole lotta crap happening simultaneously.

So here is a list of randomosity to remind me (and you) that there's some really cool stuff out in the world.

This Knight battling this Snail.


I don't know what it is, but knights battling snails was a common theme in Mediaeval marginalia.  That the snail is a metaphor I am sure. A metaphor for what?  Nobody really knows.

No such thing as too many cats on the Internet:

The Internet was made for posting pictures of cats.

Mr Money Mustache:  Financial Freedom Through Badassity. Click thru for some brilliant financial advice.  I wish I'd found this sooner.

Don't be UnAustralian. Eat Lamb. 

Or rather, as Easter is approaching, indulge in something Goo:

Um.... not quite sure what to make of this. Funny?  Disturbing?  Comment in the comments.

_________________________

Her Grace has realised that she needs to learn the fine art of No... six months before the consequences are felt.  She also needs a raise.

M'amusant: gentle hint of irony

Last week I read an article in Publisher's Weekly about a grown-up Scratch'n'Sniff book about the elements of wine.  (Frex, when someone describes a wine as having 'woody' tones, do you know what that means?  This book shows you, er smells you, er... you know what I mean.)

While the topic itself fascinates me, I found one line to be rather humorous. Thus they say:

"[the publisher] has not attempted a digital edition of the book."

I guess Smell-o-vision is out of fashion on the Internet.

Avast, me hearties!

It be "Talk Like A Pirate Day"!

If ye canna talk like a pirate, sing like a drunken sailor.

For those scurvy dogs who dinna like pirates,  here's a ninja for ye:

Grocer's Apostrophe

The Apostrophe Demon
By C. Williams
(Library of Congress[1]) [Public domain],
via Wikimedia Commons
Apostrophe use can be pretty hellish.

Sometimes a grammatical error becomes so common it gets its own name.   I give you the "Grocer's Apostrophe".

Definition

Encyclopedic entry 

Just because there's an official name for the usage doesn't mean it's a legitimate use of the language.

Fascinating, n’est pas?

People making fun of apostrophal misuse:

http://www.apostropheabuse.com/

http://www.apostrophecatastrophes.com/

http://www.flickr.com/groups/apostrophes/

https://twitter.com/Apostrophecops

http://rebecca-writes.blogspot.com.au/2011/09/misused-abused-apostrophes.html

Not sure how to use an apostrophe?  The Oatmeal explains all.  Will illustrations.