Saturday Evening Post

It has been an überbusy week. With the big Frazier fir, Russian tea and sugar cookies, it is beginning to smell like Christmas, even with the air conditioner blowing. Clyde has a new host of questions. Grab a cuppa and snuggle into a rocker. Let’s talk.

The M3 Blog

The schedule has been on its head. The upheaval, as with any change, has been uncomfortable. Not only does it tweak my OCD, but the M3 Readers were none too pleased either. Add to that more of you have been spending quality time shopping, and the net result is a mild drop in traffic, not unlike the trend from last year.

The Survey Says

Overall, I am not terrifically concerned, but I do have to ask some favors. The poll is closing tomorrow. I would like your input as to whether the Romantic Monday feature stays. A large number of you have commented on the idea of fiction being on M3 in the same vein you did when Story Time ran here. Hold onto that, as we are going to circle back to it.

Unless Romantic Monday gets a resounding vote to stay, it is over as of yesterday. Unlike Story Time, it is merely a writing exercise, with which I am not entirely comfortable as continued content on M3. I do not see a foreseeable time when I will be writing romance, as my erotica is not romantic and very, explicitly different from this type of thing.

Story Time, otherwise known as The Book with no Name, is still in the WIP folder with all the pages of outlines and character sketches in my portfolio. When it fell by the wayside, it was not shelved with an indeterminate date. It has a due date of 01JUN13, and will be either my seventh or eighth book. If you are not familiar with the cast, thumb through some of the excerpts. The next poll with be to name it.

Redmund

Barring a catastrophe, Redmund is going to be uploaded and live this week. Frankly, although I love the Redmund lady, I am getting tired of seeing her on the front page. >>>

The content is still thin, but should be useful. I have been dashing to finish the pages for the authors who have all of their materials in the forum.

If you are in the fall FTP and have not submitted your materials, your page will not be live on RP. Please proceed to the forum welcome room for all the details.

If your trailer is not finished or even begun, please proceed to the WIP forum and into the trailers room. Follow the directions in the “All Authors” post.

Guest Posts & Blog Hops

Over the next two weeks, anyone who would like to guest post is invited to comment below or inbox me. I would love to bank around a dozen guest posts for December and January. I am taking off in January to recover.

Clyde has recently decided he would like to go on tour. After seeing some of the people along the Widowed Blog Hop and Romantic Monday, he has found a number of people who are interesting and whose brains are ripe. If you would like to host Clyde on a Tuesday, Thursday or Saturday, let me know. All participants will get recognition on Clyde’s new page. He is hosting his own blog hop.

Right Turn, Clyde!

Clyde ended up with glitter in his fur after the addition of a few dozen new ornaments and another Christmas tree to our home. Like any ape, he is interested in and distracted by the shiny things, but he had a question about puckering.

Humans have a rather perplexing practice during holidays. It seems, they lay down their arms to come together to enjoy holidays. It happens around the globe and is not relegated to any one particular holiday. Families, friends, neighbors, in-laws and even exes engage in it. Or do they?

A routine habit of adults is to blame festivities on the youngest generation. You have heard it. You may have even said it:

If it weren’t for the children,
I would have skipped all of this.

That can of glittery worms is better left for another day. Instead, Clyde is more interested in what we do than what we say.

Do you have a (sister, brother-in-law, Mate) who comes to a holiday party where the (host, guest of honor, celebrant) is a mortal enemy on every other day which ends in Y?

With a glass of holiday cheer, best wishes are toasted. Plastic grins with gritted teeth and squinted eyes mimic good-natured feelings. Buttock cheeks are held taut: not in an attempt it look better in velvet pants, but to stem the escape of the animosity roiling in the pit of the stomach.

Sarcasm is attempted and unfortunately falls far short of the humorous mark because it is nothing but very thinly veiled cruelty. Mingling becomes click forming. Whispers and giggles are mostly at another’s expense for tonight’s faux pas of the jewel-toned Argyle sweater vest or a cataclysmic ineptitude committed (days, months, decades) ago.

In the denouement of the party, air kisses and sorority hugs are given to the sending line with saccharine sweet good tidings.

The Ride Home

Even if clothing is not adjusted to relieve pressure, the voluminous explosion of epithets and expletives is frightening. Vows of never again being in the same hemisphere with the other person are sworn on the lives of everyone present at and absent from the gathering. Rhetorical questions about your acquiescence to and observation of behavior only befitting cloven-hoofed animals bounce off every surface.

With an arched eyebrow, resigned sigh or head tossed back, the endpoint of the tirade is, “Can you believe it?”

Enter Ape

Right turn, Clyde.

As a species, we gather in social groups for entertainment, in the pursuit of common interests and as familial units. All of these activities generate a sense of well-being. They foster our inner need to belong.

The question on Clyde’s mind is:

Why do we intentionally engage in activities we know are abhorrent under the guise of good will?

Rather than confront the person with whom we are (incompatible, disturbed, angry) before the function, we pretend to be “the bigger man” by laying the big guns on the welcome mat, despite having a machete in the top of our stocking. We snipe from a distance, plant the seeds of discontent in innocent others and burn up all of the good feeling of the gathering in the attempt to veil the feelings screamed by our body language.

Perhaps, we would be truer to ourselves and others if we settled matters ahead of time so these parties could be joyous occasions in celebration of the holiday at hand.  Alternatively, we could not pretend to be the amicable people we are not at any other time besides the holidays. Better still, barring all else, we could plainly stay home.

It makes an ape wonder why we are considered the more evolved species.

Until next time,

Why do we go to parties and pretend we do not despise other attendants? Who are we trying to appease by doing this? Would it be better to officially call a truce if we cannot resolve it in advance? Are you comfortable at parties where it is obvious two (or more) people are clearly feuding?

Have a wonderful weekend! Please take the poll.

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