Deb, Allyson needs that for her book. 100 words or less what it's like to be a BNF.

A childhood memory

“I’m in with the in-crowd/ I go where the in-crowd goes.” Mom, singing along with one of her Superfly seventies jams, on one of the stations my dad avoids for melanin. I’m...maybe third grade...too young to really know what an in-crowd is or even think about the kind of stuff they’d probably “know”, although something about the way the singer says “knows” makes me want to giggle and I’m not sure why. Like there’s a secret or something. We both sing along. Mom says she can’t sing and I’m lucky because that’s one thing I got from my dad, but I think she sounds fine. Dad music has more pianos in it...he would probably turn the station on this, although once in a while we can get him to keep Smokey Robinson on, if my brother and I agree on it for five seconds. But this would be different, I can tell. Dad doesn’t want to hang out with the in-crowd and find out what the secret is and why my face feels hot when I think about it, sometimes. And I know it’s not a school question either. School questions are about things like “How far is California?” and “What’s 25 plus twenty-five?” not feelings and not stuff on the radio. I’ve learned that because people laugh at me, sometimes, and I don’t even know why I’m funny, but I don’t like it.

I had this conversation with ita the other day. I'm physically incapable of thinking anyone envies me. But the all-access pass is familiar. For me, it's a drive-on pass onto a studio lot. But there's no groupies hanging around outside the gate begging to get in.

But there's no groupies hanging around outside the gate begging to get in.

Yep. Different when you're being glared at as the "ornament on the guy's arm". None of these women gave a shit about him. None of them knew anything about him. None of them had been there for the really miserable stuff. They all just wanted the glitter, the celebrity shine rubbing off on them. They couldn't tell the difference between the size of the organ and the size of the piano. They wanted a shiny shiny trophy. And walking in, I used to get those damned eyes on me, and I'd count: three miserable resentful envious little dolly-birds in short skirts who would have killed me without a second thought, for a crack at that damned pass, a crack at the man, to hang him on their wall.

And if you think the skull and roses all-access badge brought the haters out just outside the backstage door, trust me, the badge with the long red tongue sticking out was way the hell more intense.

Why yes, it's possible I have a few issues about the whole BNF fan thing...

Sure it was a multinational corporation, but it was also a family business. Geoffrey wasn’t family, but he’d been Junior’s friend forever. In fact, when Mike tried to fire him, Junior had created a job to keep him on. Mike was just the CEO’s nephew, Junior was the son, the heir apparent. That meant job security for Geoffrey.

Until auditors started questioning Junior’s mom’s expenses on the company books, and no one could explain accounting irregularities from 5 years back. When the in crowd became the indicted crowd, Geoffrey got his subpoena and his pink slip on the same day.

Heh.

Heheheheheh.

I like that one, -t.

Oh, crikey.

OK. So my agent wants to pitch Haunted Ballads to Ewan McGregor - something I was after my former agent to do, but she never did it.

They want to know if I'm willing to do one of the books up as a screenplay.

I've done one before - about, oh, twelve years ago.

Are they kidding?

They also want the HB's "high concept". This implies a pop culture reference knowledge that I simply don't have.

Holy Shit, Deb!!! That's HUGE! Congrats! (Just the option alone, I mean. If things get HUGER, I'll address that then.)

This implies a pop culture reference knowledge that I simply don't have.

Lots of peeps around that would be glad to help you out.

eta: Just checked your lj and it looks like things are under control.

I'm being told Hart to hart was too campy. I have no idea what it was, so I have no clue whether it is or not. Maybe let Marlene figure it out.

Just wrote the proposal for the fifth Haunted Ballad book. Feedback?

The New-Slain Knight (a Haunted Ballad mystery)

It's midsummer in the UK, a hot lazy July. Ringan Laine is enjoying a rare experience, for him: having neither musical engagements nor property restoration consults to deal with for the next two weeks. Even better, his girlfriend, theatre owner and actress Penny Wintercraft-Hawkes, has timed her own midsummer break to coincide with his. At home at Lumbe's Cottage in Street, Somerset, Ringan's looking forward to two weeks of nothing more strenuous than sleeping in.

Before Penny even arrives, however, Ringan gets a call from his sister Roberta, in Edinburgh. Roberta's husband has a family emergency that will take them out of town for about ten days. Would Ringan be willing to have Roberta's daughter, 14-year-old violin prodigy Rebecca, down to stay with him? Since there's no graceful way to refuse, Ringan agrees.

Penny comes up with an idea for keeping Becca amused: a week-long drive around the Duchy of Cornwall. It has beaches, pubs, restaurants, ancient monuments. It also has a few old friends of Ringan's, local musicians. Ringan gets the idea to get hold of his friends and see about a few local pub shows; since Becca is a world-class fiddler, she may even get a chance to play with them.

The first few days of the holiday are idyllic; they wander Cornwall, visit stone circles, Penny and Becca swim in the sea, and Ringan teaches his niece - in whom he immediately recognises a kindred musical spirit - some of the local songs in his repertoire.

When they wind up at the legendary Arthurian castle of Tintagel, however, something disquieting happens - Becca begins to babble, then blacks out. Thinking it's heat stroke, they take her back to the inn so she can rest up. Ringan has arranged a show at the local folk club that night, with his old friend, Cornish guitarist and folklorist Gowan Camborne, and everyone's pleased that Becca feels well enough to play on two numbers.

But when they begin the second song, about a murdered knight and a despairing, frightened girl, Becca has a terrifying seizure. Penny and Ringan have dealt with hauntings enough to recognise that this may be what's happened. As they begin to look into the local history, Becca begins to deteriorate before their eyes - and they realise that, unless they can track down the truth behind a song that offers them too many avenues to explore and not enough time, Ringan may lose his niece.

Best Friends Forever

I survived Kindergarten with little teasing, but First Grade was different. Everyone was new to me. There was a group of girls who quickly established their dominance. They had everything right, according to them, and they wasted no time making it clear to me, and to everyone else, that everything about me was wrong. I don’t remember what they said anymore, but I remember what happened next. As the in crowd walked away, confident in their victory, a blonde with sharp, blue eyes and the biggest smile walked up to me and said, “I hate them too. Let’s be friends”.