Half the time when I screw up usage, it's a brain fart. I'll know the difference, but the fingers pick something else. I screw up ancestors and descendants ALL THE TIME without meaning to. I know the difference, given half a second. It's as if they share the same cell or whatever and there's a chance the wrong one will make it all the way out before the half-second elapses.

I put it in the same category as the brain farts that make me forget common words. Like canvas, last night.

I am pretty confident that I have typoed reign when I meant to write rein in the past. You know, when talking horsies. So I wouldn't assume that someone doesn't know the context from the homophone fuck up. Just that they have crappy editors.

"blush"

He can’t trust her.

She is his prisoner, and willing only to spare the life of her father. Whatever she says to him is suspect, and why not? He’s a beast. Who wouldn’t placate him, speak pretty and sit prettier, there on her cushion in front of the fire?

She will never want him. She is everything he is not—-young, innocent, beautiful, perfect. Pleasant conversation is a way to pass the time, another price she pays.

Still, she knows he watches her. Knows, and likes it. Under the weight of his gaze, she blushes, pure pink as a rose.

"Tale as old as time..."

That's lovely, Amy.

Beauty and the Beast is my favorite fairy tale for a multitude of reasons, and the Disney version is an adaptation I actually like, unlike their usual travesties.

Chapter two is kicking my ass. I feel like it lost all the magic. I need to find a way to bring the Sam of it back in.

I'm just heartbroken. It needs much more thought.

Just venting.

My co-author just sent me the pirate chapter. I just wanted to share his description of the setting:

The mountains opened up like extended arms, with palms facing up in offering, to an oasis of beauty.

The long trek had led him to another sea, but none like he had ever seen. This sea was still as stone. The surface looked like a mirror that had been laid flat on the ground.

The moon's reflection on the ground confused Sam for a brief instant and he wasn’t sure if he was right-side-up or the world was upside-down.

LOVE!

Chapter two is a hit with Ashley, age 6!

Allyson, you just might need to get used to thinking of yourself as a success.

Sigh.

Two people on one of the romance writing loops I still belong to just posted first sale announcements within five minutes of each other, and to houses I would've been over the moon to sell either of my romance manuscripts to.

I'm happy for them, I honestly am, but I feel like I've been waiting to post that same message for forever now, and I have no idea if I'm even getting any closer. And no, I'm not writing just to sell. I write because if I stopped it would leave a hole in my soul--the stories are in me, and I need to get them out onto the page.

But. I do want to sell. And there's this part of me that wonders if I suck, if I have no talent, because I've been at this for seven years now. I know people who started after me who already have books on the shelves, and I've never worked for so long at something with no tangible success to show for it. It would suck if I, well, sucked, and am too stupid and blind to realize it.

Just venting, mostly...

You don't suck. But I know how you feel. I get a twinge of that feeling every time a Buffista who has been seeking publication for a lot less time than I have gets published. Just that old green-eyed monster plus natural insecurities.