Squawk Radio
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
WE ARE OUTTA HERE!!!
Please come and visit us in our new digs at: www.squawkradio.com
PLEASE NOTE: We cannot transfer membership names from the BRAVENET list on this site to our new site. So please sign up for membership over at the new place!
Monday, October 02, 2006
As of October 2nd, 2006
SQUAWK RADIO HAS MOVED!!!
If you reset your FAVORITE LINK to www.squawkradio.com, it should take you directly to our new henhouse.
You may see an Under Construction sign for a couple of hours but we hope to go live this morning. Thanks for your patience and can't wait to see you in the new henhouse!
(And if anyone has trouble reaching the new site using the www.squawkradio.com, please Comment below with your problem and we'll try to figure it out. As with any transition, I'm sure we'll be putting out fires for a few days! :))
20 comments
SQUAWK RADIO HAS MOVED!!!
If you reset your FAVORITE LINK to www.squawkradio.com, it should take you directly to our new henhouse.
You may see an Under Construction sign for a couple of hours but we hope to go live this morning. Thanks for your patience and can't wait to see you in the new henhouse!
(And if anyone has trouble reaching the new site using the www.squawkradio.com, please Comment below with your problem and we'll try to figure it out. As with any transition, I'm sure we'll be putting out fires for a few days! :))
Sunday, October 01, 2006
SQUAWK CLASSIC BLOG REPLAY!!!
CONNIE BROCKWAY DISCOVERS THE REASON WOMEN PAST 40
DON’T WATER-SKI
I am an athletic woman. I play a mean game of tennis, swim like a fish, and lift weights on a regular basis—heavy weights. So last weekend when we were visiting friends’ at their lake cabin and their son said, “Who wants to go water skiing?” I chirped, “Hey! That sounds like fun! I’m in!” It didn’t matter that I hadn’t actually been on skis in oh, say,... oh, say... wow. Has it been that long? No matter. It’s like riding a bike.
I ignored the startled and/or amused glances of my peers. Just because they have let themselves go to hell doesn’t mean the rest of us have. Now, since I am not known for verbal restraint, I think I said something like, “Hey, just because you have let yourselves go to hell doesn’t mean that I have.”
A word here: “Friends” eat up hubris like Takeru Kobayashi gobbles hotdogs.
Forthwith, I found myself on a pair of antique water skis, bobbing up and down in a lake, buoyed by a child’s life vest so small it had to be bungee-corded together in the front. How did I know it was a child’s life vest? Were you listening? IT HAD TO BE BUNGEE-CORDED TOGETHER IN THE FRONT TO MAKE IT FIT! Geesh. Somehow twenty-five people had managed to cram onto the power boat that was going to take me “for a spin around the lake.” Don’t even ask what the horsepower of that baby was because that sort of question is plain old rude. (It was big.)
Confident, even a little cocky, I grasped the tow bar, gave a thumbs up and shouted, “Let ‘er rip!” With a roar of power, the boat leaped forward, the tow line playing out like a striking snake and, knees gentle bent, arms straight ahead, leaning back at just the right angle, I surged slowly upright; Venus arising from Zeus foaming brow. Or the Cracken, depending on one’s perspective.
Anyway, I was up and I felt powerful, athletic, ready for some S-P-E-E-D. I gave the driver the sign. At once, the motor boat clawed it’s way over the surface of the lake like a mad cat on a shag carpet and I’m in the wake, riding the silky smooth vee behind the boat . My legs are steady, my arms fine, all that core training has obviously worked because I am solid on that ride.
It is time to add a little sass to this act.
I decide to give the stodgy, snickering oldsters on the boat a little show. I bend my legs and my ski’s edge slice through the water, shooting me toward the wake. I fly over it, slowly in my moment of aerial artistry, my arms over my head to take up the slack and bang! I hit the water. I don’t even miss a beat. My pals in the boat applaud, laugh with pleasure! A few even shake their heads in wonder!
I pull in and carve another route back toward the wake and jump it and then return to the other side, and then back again. I slamom, I slice, I curve, I arc. But I am getting a little tired by now. Hell, women half my age (which would make them mere children) would be tired by now. One more wake ride and I’ll signal for the driver to return me to the shore. Over I go and this time the landing isn’t quite so flawless. I hit hard and wobble but somehow catch myself and that’s when it happened.
In the midst of almost losing my balance, I looked down. I saw my thighs.
Now the things my thighs were doing behind that boat as I skimmed over the corrugated chop of the lake's surface are best left to the imagination. Cellulite at rest is as about appealing as a body suit made out of cottage cheese. Cellulite in motion is ghastly. But cellulite that is no longer bound by strong young collagen to the dimpled layer of the dermis is, in a word, horrifying.
I looked down and saw the flesh of my legs shimmying like a sixties go-go dancer, oscillating like a can of paint in a Sherwin Williams color-mixer, rippling like the flag in Bush campaign commercial, shaking like sinner at the gates of hell, quivering like... well, you get my point. Not pretty.
I let go of the tow bar and all too slowly glided off to the side and sank beneath the concealing water. I couldn’t possibly have sank slow enough.
Some things you give up because they are no longer worth the effort to do them, like folding tee shirts or theme-sex. Some things you give up because they are simply too physically demanding, like folding tee-shirts or theme-sex. But some things you give up for purely aesthetic reasons.
We're reposting some old blogs until our new site is ALIVE! So, keep checking in today and tomorrow, hoepfully--- WE'LL BE AT THE NEW DIGS!
It is time to add a little sass to this act.
I decide to give the stodgy, snickering oldsters on the boat a little show. I bend my legs and my ski’s edge slice through the water, shooting me toward the wake. I fly over it, slowly in my moment of aerial artistry, my arms over my head to take up the slack and bang! I hit the water. I don’t even miss a beat. My pals in the boat applaud, laugh with pleasure! A few even shake their heads in wonder!
I pull in and carve another route back toward the wake and jump it and then return to the other side, and then back again. I slamom, I slice, I curve, I arc. But I am getting a little tired by now. Hell, women half my age (which would make them mere children) would be tired by now. One more wake ride and I’ll signal for the driver to return me to the shore. Over I go and this time the landing isn’t quite so flawless. I hit hard and wobble but somehow catch myself and that’s when it happened.
In the midst of almost losing my balance, I looked down. I saw my thighs.
Now the things my thighs were doing behind that boat as I skimmed over the corrugated chop of the lake's surface are best left to the imagination. Cellulite at rest is as about appealing as a body suit made out of cottage cheese. Cellulite in motion is ghastly. But cellulite that is no longer bound by strong young collagen to the dimpled layer of the dermis is, in a word, horrifying.
I looked down and saw the flesh of my legs shimmying like a sixties go-go dancer, oscillating like a can of paint in a Sherwin Williams color-mixer, rippling like the flag in Bush campaign commercial, shaking like sinner at the gates of hell, quivering like... well, you get my point. Not pretty.
I let go of the tow bar and all too slowly glided off to the side and sank beneath the concealing water. I couldn’t possibly have sank slow enough.
Some things you give up because they are no longer worth the effort to do them, like folding tee shirts or theme-sex. Some things you give up because they are simply too physically demanding, like folding tee-shirts or theme-sex. But some things you give up for purely aesthetic reasons.
We're reposting some old blogs until our new site is ALIVE! So, keep checking in today and tomorrow, hoepfully--- WE'LL BE AT THE NEW DIGS!
SQUAWK RADIO MADE IT INTO THE MINNEAPOLIS TRIBUNE!
Check it out, everybody:
http://www.startribune.com/384/story/708635.html
It's so nice to have famous friends! *g*
Eloisa
4 comments
Check it out, everybody:
http://www.startribune.com/384/story/708635.html
It's so nice to have famous friends! *g*
Eloisa
CHRISTINA DODD GIVES YOU HER BEST WRITING BUSINESS ADVICE
Marry money.
If it’s too late for that — you need to define yourself and your work clearly. When you sit down with an agent or an editor, you should be able to tell them specifically what you write and why your fiction will fill a need in the marketplace. For instance, “I write women’s fiction filled with the warmth and conflicts of family life. As the large number of chick lit readers raise their own families, they’ll want more depth about relationships lightened by humor, and they’re my market.” Or, “I write historical romance with a Gothic twist, and as the paranormal market grows, the Gothic will fill the gap for those readers who like a darker edge and human characters.” Agents and editors are more likely to take a chance on you as a writer if you point out the direction you intend to go. Don’t brag. Don’t be modest. Analyze what you do and be factual. Remember, if you don’t toot your own horn, someone will use it for a spittoon.
http://www.christinadodd.com
We're rerunning some of our old blogs today, keeping you entertained as we count down the minutes until we change to our new site! Tomorrow's the day, so be patient and don't panic when Squawk Radio disappears briefly. Remember, you can't keep the Squawkers down!
2 comments
Marry money.
If it’s too late for that — you need to define yourself and your work clearly. When you sit down with an agent or an editor, you should be able to tell them specifically what you write and why your fiction will fill a need in the marketplace. For instance, “I write women’s fiction filled with the warmth and conflicts of family life. As the large number of chick lit readers raise their own families, they’ll want more depth about relationships lightened by humor, and they’re my market.” Or, “I write historical romance with a Gothic twist, and as the paranormal market grows, the Gothic will fill the gap for those readers who like a darker edge and human characters.” Agents and editors are more likely to take a chance on you as a writer if you point out the direction you intend to go. Don’t brag. Don’t be modest. Analyze what you do and be factual. Remember, if you don’t toot your own horn, someone will use it for a spittoon.
http://www.christinadodd.com
We're rerunning some of our old blogs today, keeping you entertained as we count down the minutes until we change to our new site! Tomorrow's the day, so be patient and don't panic when Squawk Radio disappears briefly. Remember, you can't keep the Squawkers down!
Saturday, September 30, 2006
We'll be watching for you!
ONLY TWO MORE DAYS UNTIL THE SQUAWK SITE MOVE!
If you have Squawk Radio bookmarked with the link: http://squawkradio.blogspot.com/, you'll need to change it to http://www.squawkradio.com/ to reach the new site.
In order to welcome the new and celebrate the old, we're doing our SQUAWK HOUSEWARMING with give-aways.
To the first three people who signed up on our old list, the latest book by each of the squawkers, autographed and shipped to whatever address you'd like (and don't ask me who they are yet because THAT'S A SURPRISE! and you'll have to look to see if you're one of them) then, for three lucky people who register at our new blog site, we'll be picking names from the new list at random throughout the day for the same prize and posting those winners, too!
To the first three people who signed up on our old list, the latest book by each of the squawkers, autographed and shipped to whatever address you'd like (and don't ask me who they are yet because THAT'S A SURPRISE! and you'll have to look to see if you're one of them) then, for three lucky people who register at our new blog site, we'll be picking names from the new list at random throughout the day for the same prize and posting those winners, too!
In addition, whenever the mood hits, a squawker will pick a name from the new list for a special, special prize !! (okay, think decoder ring and remember "special" is a relative term!) So check in often to see if your name has been selected and to tell us where to ship your "significant" prize!
Finally, we're really excited about this move and we hope that when you visit the new blog, you check out the FAQs page, wander through the author's bios, and look up the events calendar. Most of all we want this to be a place you want to visit often... so here's the million dollar question? What topics, subject matter, whatever, would YOU like to see us blog about more often?
TERESA POSTS A BOOK SHOPPING ALERT!As many of you know, I think THE BRONZE HORSEMAN by Paullina Simons is the best historical romance I've read in well over a decade.
For a long time, the book's equally wonderful sequel TATIANA AND ALEXANDER was only available in Austalia and Europe. But when I got my bulletin this month, I noticed that Doubleday Book Club (www.doubledaybookclub.com) was offering both books in Doubleday hardcover editions for only $22.99 (plus shipping and handling).
Happy shopping! (And reading!) Friday, September 29, 2006
THE COUNTDOWN CONTINUES! ONLY THREE MORE DAYS UNTIL SQUAWK RADIO MOVES TO ITS NEW COOP!
We'd also like to take this opportunity to congratulate our amazing Squawkees who made it into the Top 10 out of hundreds of entries in the Avon FanLit competition. Congrats to Sara_Lindsey, Elyssany, Mandacoll, Laura T and to Week 2's winner--Lacey Kaye!
We're all as proud as a bunch of mother hens! (And if we've missed anybody, please check in below!)
DISCLAIMER: I wanted to add that all FanLit submissions remain anonymous until a winner is announced each week so that readers and author judges have no idea who wrote what during the judging. We recognized Lacey Kaye's moniker when the winner for this week was announced but we would have had no idea that our other regular Squawkees had finaled if Santa hadn't announced it under the Comments of the blog below.
Liz on Lovin' Her Job
Last weekend, JR Ward and I spoke at the inaugural Kentucky Women’s Book Festival in Louisville, hosted by Women Who Write, The Women’s Center at the University of Louisville and Spalding University’s Master of Fine Arts in Writing Program. I was incredibly pleased that they included a panel on romance novels, because this was an event attended by a lot of academics and women who normally don’t read romance, and they could have done what so many such festivals do and completely ignored the most overwhelmingly popular genre among women. Instead, they were VERY happy we joined them. And it was our chance to tell them all why the genre is so overwhelmingly popular with our gender, and dispel a lot of the clichés and erroneous assumptions about the books we love to write and read. All in all, it was a great day, in spite of the torrential rains we had. And in spite of how I’m pretty sure the luncheon speaker insulted me when she answered what I figured would be a thought-provoking question.But I digress.
What really made the experience bloggable was that, during the booksigning after our panel, one of the women who’d been in our seminar came up to me and said, “You know, you two were the only speakers I heard this weekend who actually sounded proud of what you write. Not that everyone else sounded ashamed, but no one had the enthusiasm and obvious love for what they do that you and JR Ward so clearly have. Some even sounded apologetic for being writers.” And she wondered if that was because, as JR and I had pointed out in our seminar, romance writers work in a world of women. Almost exclusively, women write the books. Almost exclusively, women read them. The vast majority of editors and agents and publicity people working with romance writers are women. We’re just a big ol’ soup of estrogen, unpolluted by testosterone, and maybe that’s why we’re all so happy.
That got me thinking. (A dangerous activity, I know, but there you have it just the same.) I started thinking about all the jobs I’ve had in the past (virtually dozens--never let anyone tell you a degree in English makes you unemployable), and whether or not I was happier among women than I was among men. And I realized that the only other job I ever had that was on estrogen-overload like this one was when I was working for The Limited, which was what I was doing when I sold my first book. That environment, too, was dominated by females. The regional manager who worked out of our store was a man, but we never interacted with him. The stock manager was a guy, too, but, again, we only interacted with him superficially. Other than those two, it was all women, all the time. And in spite of it being retail, I really liked that job a lot.
But I liked tending bar a lot, too, and that was by no means a woman’s world. And I loved, loved, loved working at the Vogue Theatre when I was a teenager (a wonderful revival house that showed old and foreign films along with “Rocky Horror” in perpetuity), and that was a world populated by... Well. Every kind of person under the sun, a lot of them really weird.
So, ultimately, I decided that my favorite jobs had nothing to do with gender, and everything to do with being around people who are like me. With writing, I’m with other writers. At the Limited, I was with other shoppers. Tending bar, I was with other drinkers. At the Vogue, I was with other weirdoes. So probably, the reason I, at least, am so enthusiastic and in love with what I write isn’t necessarily because I’m among other women. It’s because the community of romance writers and readers attracts other people who are like me: smart, well-read, romantic, and convinced that, no matter how bad the world seems sometimes, there is hope for it. And for us.
The fact that we’re all women is just a huge bonus.
What have your favorite jobs in the past been? What do you like about the job you have now? What kind of people are you most comfortable around? What do you think are the pros and cons of being with women versus being with men?
Thursday, September 28, 2006
KEEP COUNTIN' THEM CHICKS!ONLY FOUR MORE DAYS UNTIL THE BIG MOVE TO OUR NEW SITE!!!
Update: Because we love you so much, we're going to allow Anonymous posters on the new site through October. But after October you'll have to sign up as an official user of the new site. Most of you probably already frequent sites and message boards with the same policy so we'll hoping it will be an easy transition :)
Lisa on "Scar Power"
Dear Friends,
Having just finished our friend JR Ward’s astonishingly visceral novel “Lover Awakened,” I’m having a little trouble leaving the gorgeously graphic, sexual, opulently violent world of the Black Dagger Brotherhood. The book reads like it has been soaked in testosterone. I love the freedom and power of Ward’s style, which tramples all over political correctness on its way through a love story that is so primally satisfying, I close the book with something akin to a post-coital afterglow.
I can’t get the hero, Z, out of my head. I’ve always had a weakness for wounded warrior heroes, and in a book of larger-than-life characters, Z makes everyone else’s suffering seem like a stroll through Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood. Love him.
Especially love the scar on his lip.
If you’re a writer and you’re struggling with how to make a hero more interesting, give him a scar. It always works.
A scar is a secret story waiting to be told . . . evidence of the body’s attempt to heal itself . . . a symbol of a life that has been drastically changed.
They say scar tissue is stronger than regular tissue. This physical evidence of past damage lets the reader know that the hero has suffered and is tougher for it. Is this why we find scars so compelling?
A few years ago, Premiere magazine put Harrison Ford’s face on the cover, and photoshopped away the famous scar on his chin. Readers, including myself, were justifiably annoyed. Leave the smooth-faced model boys to less discerning women . . . Harrison’s scar is sexy. Ditto Joaquin Phoenix, with the scar on his upper lip, and Sean Bean, who has one just over his left eye (which, incidentally, was given to him by Harrison Ford with a boat hook, when they were shooting Patriot Games.)
Is a scarred hero sexy to you, or is it a turn-off? Why? Who is your favorite scarred romance hero or actor?
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
SQUAWK RADIO COUNTDOWN BEGINS!They say you should never count your chickens before they hatch but one thing you can count on is your friends at SQUAWK RADIO. On Monday October 2nd, we'll be moving to our new site. We're going to redirect the URL so you should be able to get there simply by typing in www.squawkradio.com or using your link just like you always have.
Since we won't be on Blogger any more, you will have to sign up to post under your preferred screen name on the new site. Sign-up is amazingly easy. You can still post Anonymously if you like (or if you're just in a naughty mood ;)) but we'd love to get to know as many of you as we can. I also want to assure you that any sign-up info or mailing list info will NEVER be shared with anyone else.
We're going to celebrate this momentous occasion as we celebrate all of them--with copious amounts of tequila. Oh wait a minute--that's how Kitty Kuttlestone celebrates. We're going to throw a Squawk party with some fun giveaways so make sure and pop by our new henhouse on Monday October 2nd for a SQUAWK RADIO COOP WARMING! (Expensive gifts welcome.)
ONLY 5 MORE DAYS UNTIL THE PARTY STARTS!
