THIS IS MY BOOK.

YOU SHOULD BUY IT WHEN IT COMES OUT IN JULY

OR PREORDER IT AT INDIGO/CHAPTERS, OR THROUGH AMAZON OR SOMETHING.

AND IF YOU'RE TOO EMBARRASSED TO HAVE A COPY ON YOUR SHELF, BUY THE EBOOK.

YOU SHOULD ALSO GO TO MY WEBSITE, WWW.VICKIESSEX.COM.

THAT IS ALL.

Because I fail at blogging...

Links to awesomeness:

Crazy Tiger Attack!

Frieeday! (sung by Stephen Colbert)

I'm Zack! (Bar-Mitzvah video that may, in fact, be worse that Rebecca Black's Friday)

Cantonese Words of the Day by Carlos Douh

Tempted to get George Takei's Ohhh Myyy! ringtone? I know I am.

The extended Green Lantern trailer from Wondercon.

And this awesome picture, which I found in a library book. It's New York City in the "future", 1999, as it was envisioned in 1900. The library is still a wonderful, magical place!

Can it get any more official?

From the Romance Writers Report, the RWA's official publication. I've been waiting a while to see my name here... 8 )

Happy International Women's Pancake Day

Here's my nod to International Women's Day. Weird how as a child, having watched Mary Poppins n number of times, I never really paid any attention to this song.

And because it's also Shrove Tuesday, also known as pancake day, this:

*Sigh...*

Well, that was fun while it lasted all of a week...

Guess I spoke too soon about the Green Room. Back to the old non-watering hole (i.e. my living room...)

The Green Room Strikes Back

Last October, The Green Room, one of my favorite eclectic Annex haunts featuring mismatched furniture, cheap food and scuzzy beer, was shut down "for good" for violating numerous health codes. The stories of cockroach droppings and spoiled food didn't exactly surprise me: this is downtown Toronto, after all.

Hubby and I lamented the closure--it was the central gathering place for our friends on Friday and Saturday nights. Our first two dates were at the Green Room. We regularly craved their spicy Vietnamese noodle soup and greasy sandwiches. And we could always count on a hearty meal under $10. The washrooms were frequently out of order, forcing co-ed use of the men's stalls. The worn floors creaked, the tables were sticky. The lights were kept low, I imagine, to ensure no one could see just how disgusting the place actually was.

But it was home. And we missed it.

Well, like a roach from the ashes of nuclear holocaust, The Green Room has returned.

John and I spotted a Tweet saying the lights were on and someone appeared to be home. Sure enough, The Green Room reopened its doors on Friday, sporting working plumbing (as far as I can tell) in the bathrooms, and a brand-spanking-new tile floor on the lower level. The kitchen smelled antiseptically clean. Seriously. The fluorescent lighting inside that small space didn't leave any corner in shadow. Even the usually dingy lights of the bar seemed brighter.

The strings of Christmas lights were gone, as were the disembodied mannequin legs. But the familiar OCAD-esque paintings remained. It was the same old Green Room...but better. Cleaner.

For now.

Since it's still early in their resurrection, most of their menu was woefully unavailable, but the favorites were still listed. Happily, they've also added one of my faves from its sister restaurant the Red Room: fried tofu with special spicy BBQ sauce. The chicken wings were plump and juicy and--everyone asked me this, I swear--perfectly cooked. No chance of salmonella, I'm certain.

Another perennial favorite, vegetarian spring rolls, were perfectly hot, crisp, fresh, and the accompanying tangy dipping sauce rounded off the flavor nicely.

I should say here that I've never gotten sick at the Green Room. I know what I'm paying for when I go, and whether others choose to revisit the bar is entirely up to them. In any case, I happily welcome them back, and hope they've learned from their previous infractions and manage to stay open this time. Otherwise, where else will I get my spicy Vietnamese soup noodle fix?

Photo from Blog TO.

Are You RUSHFIT?

I already know I'm not.

I guess it was only a matter of time before GSP came out with his own workout program, RUSHFIT, now available on DVD. I wonder whether he'll look back and regret these in five or ten years--it seems like no one in the world can make a workout video that doesn't look dated.

Some great quotes from the website:

Is GSP RUSHFIT for women?

YES. RUSHFIT was designed for both men and women, and women instructors appear in each workout DVD. Ladies, there is no reason you can't work as hard, train like a champion the way Georges St-Pierre does, and see results as good or better than any guy. This is as close to 1-on-1 time with GSP that women can get.

You hear that, ladies? AS CLOSE AS YOU CAN GET TO ONE-ON-ONE WITH GSP. You will NEVER get to smell him, but you can imagine the aroma of his sweat as you sweat along with him!

I'm not familiar with MMA or mixed martial arts moves. I don't want to be a fighter or beat people up, is this for me?

YES. Though it blends some MMA-specific techniques, RUSHFIT is a functional fitness program. There is no hitting or physical confrontation. The value in the workouts is the MMA style strength and conditioning that applies to anyone and all sports.

But...what if I do want to beat someone up?

The program itself looks horribly painful, but as the champ says, "Enjoy the release of pain."

I'm trying to enjoy the release of sweat, myself. There's a lot of it. No wonder he had such a nice complexion.

Watch the assessment video: it's pretty grueling, and Georges comes out of it saying "That was the worst day of my life." Considering my allergy to pain, something tells me this is not the workout for me.

Skater Hater

Ice skating at Nathan Phillips Squares: it's one of those winter pastimes in Toronto that evokes certain experiences from my youth--awkwardly shuffling across the rink while wearing three layers of bulky clothing Mom made my put on; runny noses and scarves damp with exhalation; sipping hot chocolate through a coffee stir stick and scalding my tongue and hands and soaking my mittens because the cup was so overfull....

One year in high school, I sprained both ankles within the same month, and they were never the same afterwards. I didn't dare trust myself on the ice with weak ankles. And so I gave up ice skating.

Yesterday was the first time I'd gone in more than fifteen years. As I stepped tentatively upon the ice rink at City Hall, the memories all came back, along with a few new experiences.

Old news: frozen toes, ill-fitting skates, that feeling of burning in your fingers as you try to lace up your rental skates tighter, soggy laces, soggy everything else, no place to sit, an overcrowded rink with the consistency of a hard-packed snow cone, crappy radio music from the local top 40 hits station, and douche bag show offs.

New news: skate rentals at $10 for 2 hours (20 minutes of which was spent waiting for the Zamboni to clear the ice), shooting pain in my lower shins and hips, a real fear of falling and hurting myself, the urge to push aside all the children stumbling in my path and threatening to trip me up, and the urge to punch the douche bag show offs trying to scare you into falling.

I'm not sure I had fun: every round I made, I had to stop to rest my shins (what the hell is that pain?) and I didn't get my customary hot chocolate and chip truck fries and gravy reward at the end. I didn't even get a good workout--just a lot of strain on parts of my body I don't use very often.

Would I do it again? Sure...if I had my own skates and ice rink that had the consistency of linoleum when skating on it, and the buoyancy of a mattresses when I fell. Someone should get to work on that.

Every little thing gonna be all right

My "surrogate grandmother," Doreen Hamilton, 1938 - 2011,

who brought my mother to this country.

A Zen lady who loved Reggae, Buddhism, the arts, and living on the island

We only got to know you a little these past eight years.

Thank you for all that you've done.

You will be missed.

"Don't worry about a thing,

'Cause every little thing gonna be all right.

Singin': "Don't worry about a thing,

'Cause every little thing gonna be all right!"

Rise up this mornin',

Smiled with the risin' sun,

Three little birds

Pitch by my doorstep

Singin' sweet songs

Of melodies pure and true,

Sayin', ("This is my message to you-ou-ou:")

Singin': "Don't worry 'bout a thing,

'Cause every little thing gonna be all right."

Singin': "Don't worry (don't worry) 'bout a thing,

'Cause every little thing gonna be all right!"

Rise up this mornin',

Smiled with the risin' sun,

Three little birds

Pitch by my doorstep

Singin' sweet songs

Of melodies pure and true,

Sayin', "This is my message to you-ou-ou:"

Singin': "Don't worry about a thing, worry about a thing, oh!

Every little thing gonna be all right. Don't worry!"

Singin': "Don't worry about a thing" - I won't worry!

"'Cause every little thing gonna be all right."

Singin': "Don't worry about a thing,

'Cause every little thing gonna be all right" - I won't worry!

Singin': "Don't worry about a thing,

'Cause every little thing gonna be all right."

Singin': "Don't worry about a thing, oh no!

'Cause every little thing gonna be all right!

OMG New content???

Yeah, I've been neglecting my personal blog in favor of my author blog. Sorry 'bout that. But let me try to promise at least 2 posts a month for the rest of 2011, if not more. Surely there's enough weirdness going on in my life now (even as a married woman) that I might share with the rest of the world.

Today, for instance: I went to work today, only to discover the office was closed. I'd checked the company's holiday calendar online to make sure that they were open, and as far as I could tell, there was no holiday listed for today. Well. Serves me right to believe anything I read on the Internet.

So, some things to share while I've got your attention:

Reasoning with Vampires: This is a hilarious, educational and often scathing analysis of the writing in the Twilight series. I've never read the books, mind you, and I don't always agree with the assessment of use of clauses beginning with conjunctions. (Writers do it all the time. And it doesn't mean they're wrong.) But the postings present some pretty awful stuff. Not sure I do want to read the series now...it'd hurt my copy editing brain too much.

Red Letter Media reviews: In a slightly befuddled monotone mumble, this guy dissects the Star Wars prequels, Star Trek films, and a few other mediocre to great sci-fi blockbusters. He points out all the ways the filmmakers manipulate the audience, why the Star Wars prequels were such failures, and does a phenomenal and hilarious job of intelligently comparing and contrasting pop culture works. The only complaint is that he sometimes delves into these very disturbing (meant to be funny) sidebars that involve violence against women and general creepiness. Still, if you have a few hours to kill (because some of the reviews go on for 90 minutes in some cases) these are terrific supplements to your pop culture studies.

More blogging to come. Promise.

All Hail Jabba the Ford

His High Exaltedness, the great Jabba the Ford, has decreed that you are to be terminated immediately.

In his belly, you will find a new definition of pain and suffering, as you are slowly digested over a thousand years. (Regarding the Sarlaac pit, but probably just as apt a description of ol' Jabba.)

P.S. I would have put Smitherman in Carbonite, but I'm too depressed to.

A Month of Giveaways!

With marketing ramping up on VickiEssex.com, I'm gonna be cross posting a lot of stuff. So bear with me, folks. Making work counts and blogging is sapping my dry.

This is a post about a contest I'm running: go check it out for your chance to win one of four Harlequin vintage prize packs!

A Month of Giveaways!

GSP Is Not Impressed By Your Performance

I SOLD MY MOTHER#$^&*$#@ BOOK!!!!!!!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Go to my new website and read the story of how it happened! Then bookmark my website and visit it every day! DO IT DO IT DO IT!!!

Vickiessex.com

Publishers Weekly Fan Expo Write Up

My Publishers Weekly blog post write up on Fan Expo is up!

The other author, Heather, and I would love it if you leave comments there!

You can also check out more pics from the con at my Victory Essex blog.

Thanks!

Dear Tahmoh...

Dear Tahmoh Penikett,

Please stop being so hot. I'm a happily married woman now, but whenever I have to look up your name, which is frequently for some reason, I end up at your Wikipedia page and this picture.

You are way too fine with your OJ and cool, assessing gaze. And the suggestive position of your microphone makes me want to come up and ask you questions.

I love my husband. So four the sake of our happy marriage, please stop being so awesome.

Sincerely,

Vicki.


EDIT: FOR the sake of our happy marriage. Thanks for catching that, Jenny!

Fan Expo 2010

I spent a long time trying to decide whether or not to go to Fan Expo this year, but after a long deliberation--and an announcement that said Tahmoh Penikett was making an appearance--I decided to get tickets for John and I for Friday, the least busy day of the con.

Boy, was I ever wrong about that. There was a two-hour lineup stretching around the block of the Metro Toronto Convention Centre. I had to stay because Publishers Weekly asked me to be a cub reporter and do a write-up of the event. (Link to come soon, I hope!)

On top of that, I made this video of the queue. Enjoy!

Yup.

"31 Today" from Aimee Mann

Awake

I was lying in bed eyes wide-open for the past...hour? Two hours? And my body has decided it no longer requires sleep. That, in combination with my ridiculously full belly and threatening heartburn, has forced me from my bed

So here I am at the crack of dawn, around 6:25 a.m. checking a Twitter feed that has stopped chirping, with some mind to go and edit my YA book.

Right. Like anything will be coherent at this hour.

Just so you have an idea of how early it is: Even the cat is still asleep. Which wouldn't be news, except that he's usually awake at the slightest indication of us stirring.

I'm trying to decide whether I should concede defeat and brush my teeth now so I'm fully "up"--writing with morning breath is awful, and I can still taste dinner.

My real hope is that I'll start to fade again and have to crawl back into bed around 8:00 a.m., when the rest of the world is just getting up to put on their Sunday bests.

Okay, early-morning blathering over. Going to try to "work" now.

Why Can't I Quit You?

It's come to my attention that there are certain faces among Hollywood's up-and-coming elite that have been inspiring a certain amount of fascination and terror in my heart whenever I see them on screen. I don't know if there's a common thread, but I decided to put up all their faces and decide what it is about them that freaks me out and simultaneously draws me in.

Cillian Murphy: I first saw him in Batman Begins as the Scarecrow/Dr. Jonathan Crane. His pretty blue eyes and chiseled features would draw sighs from any red-blooded woman. And then I noticed the thinness of his lips, which seemed to be in a perpetual pucker, and the deadness of his eyes, as if whatever powers brought him back to life failed to reanimate those parts of him. It's a perfect trait for the creepy Batman villain, so I thought, great performance. And then I saw him in Inception, and lo and behold, the pucker, the dead eyes...I was thoroughly creeped out, but I couldn't stop looking at him. Or appreciating his talent, of course.

Zachary Quinto: The essential charismatic psychopath, I would get Quinto to play just about any killer. His performance in Heroes as Sylar is beyond compare, and his Spock is bang-on. Aside from being a terrific murderer, he's also a horribly convincing nice guy, which automatically slots him in the love-him-but-don't-trust-him category of men you want in the sack but shouldn't close your eyes around. I'd love to see him play Machiavelli in some twisted biopic, perhaps directed by Tim Burton.

Kieran Culkin: To paraphrase a certain Joss Whedonverse character, he's a little bit Chess Club for my usual beat, but after seeing him play "cool gay roommate" Wallace in Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, I was charmed. Such casual ease. Such debonair grace. Of course it was all acting, and I've never seen him in anything else, but he did a fabulous job convincing me I'd want to try getting him to bat for the girls. Or is that boys? I'm bad at metaphors. Be not gay, in any case.

Still, that pasty Culkin complexion and greasy hair is really not my thing. Nor are the vampire-red wet lips. Really, I think he should have been cast in Twilight. He wouldn't have needed much makeup.

Alan Tudyk: The Firefly alum falls more on the side of attractive than not, mainly due to his performance as Wash. I mean, who wouldn't want a guy who plays with dinosaurs piloting your ship? He's like that cool uncle who brings you video games your mom would never let you have and lets you stay up past your bedtime watching horror flicks while drinking orange soda.

But then I started seeing him in not so nice guy roles. His guest appearance on CSI as a rehabilitated child molester freaked me right the hell out. And then he pulled the creep-guns out again in Dollhouse as mastermind maniac Alpha, and again as an agent of the Visitors in V. Love him, stay the hell away from him...I can do both, right?

Who creeps you out who you can't get enough of?