Flash Fiction: Nun For Us, Please

June 7, 2017June 7, 2017 / Diane Henders / 23 Comments

Yesterday I was texting our contractor about some budget items when my phone autocorrected my sentence to: “Once we have the nuns we can decide”. I chuckled and corrected “nuns” to “numbers” before I sent it, but the phrase stuck in my brain because it really sounded like a flash fiction prompt.

So here goes:

Nun For Us, Please

“Once we have the nuns we can decide when to perform the ritual.” Zaz raised her carapace and ruffled her iridescent wings in a show of confidence.

Chith eyed their acquisitions, antennae drooping with doubt. “I don’t know…” Squealing and grunting from inside the pen made her spring back with a chitter of alarm. “Are you sure?”

“Magic brought us here. Magic will take us back,” Zaz said with more certainty than she felt. “The incantation I overheard mentioned us by name and talked about going home, so it has to be the right one.”

“It didn’t say ‘Zaz and Chith’,” Chith objected.

“Well, no, but it said ‘Pik’ee’ over and over. An incantation that repeats our race in every line is obviously about us.” Zaz ruffled her wings again. “So all we need now is nuns.”

“You said ‘nun’ when you first told it to me, not ‘nuns’,” Chith argued. “Maybe we only need one, and we’d better get it right. If we hadn’t been so careless last time, we wouldn’t be in this fix.” She peered into the pen, her mandibles drawing back in revulsion. “I hope nuns aren’t like this. These are so noisy and smelly. Are you sure they’re the right thing?”

“This is what the human male with the face-fur showed me when I told him the incantation.” Zaz drew herself up on her hind legs to deliver her newfound knowledge with authority. “These are pigs. Nuns are some kind of special human, so they should be cleaner.” She hesitated. “Though the furry human was actually quite smelly, too.”

“Are you sure he wasn’t lying? Because that…” Chith indicated a malodorous lump beside the pigpen with a contemptuous mandible-click. “…is either a joke or an insult. Or both.”

Zaz’s thorax bristled. “It’s human food. The cooked muscle of an animal; a ‘cow’, the furry human said. I can’t help it if it’s disgusting; the incantation required it.” Her thorax hairs wilted a bit. “It didn’t smell as bad yesterday, though.”

“It must be rotting. We’d better hurry up and get our nun.” Chith backed away from the pigpen. “Do you know where to get one?”

“Yes, the furry human showed me.” At the skeptical dip of Chith’s antennae, Zaz bristled again. “I’m sure he wasn’t lying. He was very religious. When I spoke to him, he ritually smashed a beautiful shiny vessel of liquid and prostrated himself to pray to his deity.” She paused, one antenna cocked mischievously. “He said ‘Please, God, I swear I’ll never drink again, just make the giant talking bug go away’.”

Chith clacked her mandibles in amusement. “Let’s go get our nun.”

Sister Mary Agnes made the sign of the cross and gave herself a firm mental reminder that all creatures were precious to God.

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand,” she said faintly to the two huge beetles standing on the convent doorstep. “Exactly what do you need me for?”

“I told you, for a magic ritual.” The larger beetle, Zaz, buzzed the words by modulating her carapace over her vibrating wings. “We are small Pik’ee and we want to go home. The incantation says we need a nun. We have roast beef, and pigs, too; though I’m not sure about them. The incantation didn’t mention pigs, but the furry human said ‘definitely pigs’ so we got them just in case.”

“And this incantation…” Mary Agnes asked with rising trepidation. “Where did you overhear it?”

“A human female was teaching it to her young one. Like this.” Zaz recited:

This little Pik’ee went to market
This little Pik’ee stayed home
This little Pik’ee had roast beef
This little Pik’ee had nun
And this little Pik’ee went
Wee, wee, wee, all the way home.

Mary Agnes closed her eyes in a short prayer for strength, then drew a steadying breath. “I’m afraid I have bad news for you…”

* * *

P.S. And now I want to write a joke that begins, “A nun walks into a bar with two giant talking beetles…” 😉

Anybody else want to have a go at it? Please do! Write a flash fiction piece of 750 words or less using the prompt “Once we have the nuns we can decide”, or tell a joke about a nun and two giant talking beetles. If you have a blog, post it there and link back here; or else drop your joke or story in the comments below. Have fun! (You retain full copyright to any joke or story you post here.)

Diagnosis: Writer

February 8, 2017February 8, 2017 / Diane Henders / 54 Comments

So many of my readers are also writers!

Nelson is serializing his book on his blog,

Jono just posted a sneaky two-part story,

Carrie Rubin has two medical thrillers published and is working on a third,

Nancy Roman blogs, writes for Huffington Post, and has written a novel,

Andrew will soon be releasing a collection of poems,

…And I know @SomeRandomGuy is over 600,000 words into the draft of his epic sci-fi fantasy, and others have mentioned works in progress or in planning.

So I thought now might be a good time for a diagnosis. Are you or someone you know struggling with writer-itis? Use this handy checklist to find out:

Symptoms: Uttering random words at inappropriate times; unexplained giggling, crying, and/or scowling.

Differential Diagnosis: Writer, Tourette Syndrome, or psychosis.

Tests: Observe the subject’s behaviour after the outburst.

Diagnosis:

If the subject scurries off to write immediately after the outburst, they’re a writer.

If the subject acts as though nothing untoward has happened, they might have Tourette’s… or they’re a writer in the throes of plotting.

If the subject carries on an animated conversation with invisible companions, it might be psychosis… or they’re a writer planning dialogue.

Symptoms: Unhealthy attachment to word processing programs

Differential Diagnosis: Writer or computer geek

Tests: Observe the content of the document.

Diagnosis:

If you’re still reading and completely riveted after ten pages, they’re a writer.

If your eyes glaze over after the first line and your brain explodes after the first page, they might be a computer geek… or a writer.

Symptoms: Separation anxiety when leaving a computer; obsession with backups; paralyzing fear of data loss

Diagnosis: Writer, computer geek, or conspiracy theorist

Tests: Confiscate the subject’s data and destroy it before the subject’s eyes.

Diagnosis:

If the subject bursts into uncontrollable weeping and/or guzzles alcohol until they throw up and/or pass out, they’re a writer. Or they were; before you destroyed the only copy of their life’s work and with it, their will to live.

If the subject curses you in Klingon and produces three redundant backups, they’re a computer geek… or a sci-fi writer.

If the subject sidles away with a furtive expression and disappears only to resurface several weeks later with a new name, identical data, and a blog decrying the censorship of the establishment and the oppression of free thinkers, they’re a conspiracy theorist… or a writer.

Symptoms: Forgetfulness; changes in behaviour; social withdrawal

Differential Diagnosis: Writer, dementia, or drug addiction

Tests: Restrict the subject to a controlled environment for 24 hours, then provide a laptop loaded with a word-processing program. Retest at two-month intervals.

Diagnosis: If the subject breaks into a cold sweat and suffers tremors, nausea, vomiting, hallucinations, and/or seizures, it might be a drug addiction… or they’re a writer.

If the symptoms resolve instantly when a laptop is provided, they’re a writer.

There’s really no way to differentiate writers from dementia patients in a single test. Writers will forget to eat, sleep, and bathe; will walk away from stoves leaving the elements on high; will drop the keys in the sugar bowl; will wander away from home and get lost even in familiar neighbourhoods; and may even fail to recognize close friends and family. Retesting is the only way to know for sure: At some point, writers will likely resume more or less normal behaviour (at least until they start their next manuscript).

Symptoms: Immobility and non-responsiveness when addressed

Differential Diagnosis: Writer, deafness, or death

Tests: Obtain a lightweight object at least six inches longer than the subject’s reach. Gently prod the subject.

Differential Diagnosis:

If the subject startles, yells, and/or flails, they’re either a writer in deep concentration or deaf.

If the subject now responds when addressed (and particularly if they respond with creative expletives), they’re a writer.

If the subject still doesn’t respond when addressed, they might be deaf. Or a deaf writer. Or a writer in extra-deep concentration.

If the subject falls over and lies motionless, call the coroner… but the subject might still be a writer in extra-extra deep concentration. Make sure the medical examiner checks for a pulse before starting the autopsy.

If you were reading this hoping you’d find a cure, well… sorry about that. There isn’t one; there are only short remissions between manuscripts. But the disease itself is so much fun, who’d want a cure anyway?

Do you have writer-itis?

* * *

P.S. I’m poking fun at myself and my fellow writers, but I don’t mean to trivialize the social and emotional consequences of dementia, Tourette Syndrome, mental illness, hearing impairment, or addiction. To gain awareness and understanding of these conditions:

Tourette Syndrome

Alzheimer’s and dementia

Mental health

Hearing impairment

Addiction

Submariners And Sea Monsters, Oh My!

February 1, 2017 / Diane Henders / 50 Comments

Moving to a new place always comes with a learning curve, so this week I thought I’d share some of the discoveries I’ve made since we arrived here on Vancouver Island.

For example, I’ve recently learned the correct Navy pronunciation for ‘submariner’. I always thought it was ‘sub-ma-REEN-er’, but a true Navy man pronounces it ‘sub-MARE-in-er’. (Coincidentally, I also learned some Navy slang for a gay man: ‘diesel-driven turnip’. Don’t look at me like that; I don’t have a clue how that expression came to be. But it made me laugh.)

Speaking of the Navy, I haven’t met a ringer for Aydan’s Uncle Roger yet (in the Never Say Spy series, he was the favourite uncle who taught Aydan her best cusswords); but the other day a Hellhound lookalike roared past me on his Harley with his guitar strapped to his back; and I actually got to meet a real-life Dave Shore:

Paul was one of the truckers who delivered our shipping containers, and watching him finesse an 80’ tractor-trailer into our tiny driveway off our narrow road was education and entertainment combined. I just stood there with my jaw dangling while he eased those big tires perilously close to the ditch, sometimes hovering a couple of trailer wheels over empty space. Then he used a brilliant technique to squeeze into the driveway: he locked up the trailer brakes while he continued to reverse the tractor, pivoting the 53’ trailer neatly around the 90-degree corner and into our yard. Wow!

Talking to him was like gabbing with my fictional Dave: He’s got 700,000 kilometres on his current rig, which is the third his current employer has issued him. As he explained, “I keep miling them out.” (Translation: Driving so many miles that the truck has to be replaced, usually at 1,000,000 km.) He’d rather sleep in his truck than in a hotel, and when asked about his retirement plans in a few years, he admitted, “I’m going to get an RV and drive around visiting my kids. I just like to drive.” It’s very cool to know there are real-life ‘Daves’ out there!

Marine life has been another novelty for me; some of it beautiful and fascinating…

Starfish come in an amazing variety of shapes and colours from white to orange/red to blue/purple, and they have the ability to go from soft to rigid in mere seconds if you touch them. (Guys, did you get that?)

…and some of it quite horrifying:

I have no idea what creature wore this head before I found it bobbing gently in the surf. It was nearly ten inches across and it looked like some hideous sea monster, although it’s probably a mundane fish to a true West-Coaster. But I’m going with ‘sea monster’.

I’ve seen misty sunrises:

Serene moonrises:

Dramatic nighttime cloudscapes:

Rainbows after a storm:

And harbour seals playing. (I was too far away so they only look like black blobs splashing around, but you get the idea):

…And we’ve only been here a month. I can hardly wait to see the strange and wonderful things the Island has left to show us!

But here’s the best photo yet: They broke ground for our house on Monday! Hooray! (Speaking of finesse and expertise, Sam the excavator operator is an artist. His touch with that bucket is so delicate and precise you forget that he’s moving literally tons of earth at mind-boggling speed. Apparently he began operating a small excavator when he was 8 years old.)

It might not be as scenic as the rest of the photos, but this one makes me very happy!

What’s new in your world this week? And… does anybody know what that sea-monster-critter actually is? (Or, more accurately, ‘was’?)

Screen Crud

October 19, 2016October 19, 2016 / Diane Henders / 45 Comments

I was typing merrily away when I saw it: a renegade period in the middle of my sentence. I backspaced to delete it but even after my cursor passed by, it remained impudently in place.

What the…?

Closer examination revealed that it was actually a bit of crud stuck to my computer screen. When I cleaned it off, though, I realized exactly how much more crud there was.

It looked like tiny splatters of… something. I have no idea what. I don’t eat while I’m typing, so it can’t be food. (Although if I had a third hand I probably would eat at the same time. Maybe our children’s children’s children will evolve a convenient third appendage after generations of keyboarding.)

Anyway, I don’t have a third hand, so the crudfest isn’t food.

Even though I’ve come close to spewing a mouthful of tea over my screen when I run across something particularly funny, it’s never actually happened. So it can’t be beverage droplets.

If I’m going to cough or sneeze I contain it. The crud definitely isn’t snot. (Which is a comforting thought, because, eeuw.)

We don’t have kids and Hubby has his own laptop, so it’s not someone else’s crud.

Back in the days when cats shared our house I could have pointed the finger of blame at kitty noses, but the last of our elderly felines departed this world over ten years ago and my laptop is much newer; so that theory’s shot.

If I used voice-to-text I might suspect aerosolized spit, which, to my own embarrassment, I discovered we all emit while talking despite our best efforts. But I don’t talk while I’m working. Not even unintelligible muttering, which would theoretically reduce the spray range.

But if I’ve eliminated all the likely suspects, what is the screen crud?

I’m stumped.

I suppose it could be deliberately flung there by evil relatives of the sock imps: Computer imps that reside in the cracks between the keys.

I’m imagining something like our university dining hall a couple of eons ago, where the meal wasn’t complete until at least one person had catapulted a spoonful of Jello onto the ceiling and made it stick. By the end of the term that ceiling looked like a stained-glass window designed by a lunatic.

So maybe when I close the laptop at night, the laptop imps creep out and fling imp-Jello up at the screen.

Or it might be the invisible ghosts of long-dead copyeditors who are trying to change the punctuation in my work, only to be frustrated when I continue to type and the text scrolls down.

Maybe it’s a squadron of microscopic incontinent flying insects on organized strafing runs.

Or maybe it’s tiny spiders hanging from the ceiling, taking a dump on me as a comment on the quality of my work. (Spiders are a tough audience.)

I dunno; but if you see me hunched under an umbrella while typing away on my laptop, you’ll know why.

Anybody else have theory as to the origin of screen crud? Please tell me I’m not the only one getting dumped on by spider-critics!

* * *

New topic over at the Virtual Backyard Book Club: Life-Changing Fiction — What book(s) changed your worldview? Click here to have your say!

(Note: I’ve just discovered that the WordPress theme I’m using for the VBBC has a weird glitch: If your browser window isn’t wide enough, it doesn’t show the comment box. If you’ve been unable to comment, I’m so sorry! Please expand your browser window and the comment box should appear.)

The Closet Reveal

July 20, 2016 / Diane Henders / 37 Comments

Thanks to everybody who took at guess at which items weren’t in my closet last week! It was lots of fun (and occasionally slightly disturbing) to read all the guesses and the reasoning behind them. So, without further ado, here’s the photographic evidence along with my reasons/excuses for harbouring such oddball items. (Hubby and I share the closet, but for the sake of fairness I only included items that belong to me.)

But first a disclaimer: we’re actually not total closet-slobs. Here’s how our closet normally looks:

And here’s the exploded view with the items numbered according to the original list:

And now for the explanations:

1. Umpteen pairs of jeans – Yep. No explanation required.

2. Bellydance scarves with jingly coins – Remember this post with this video?

3. A bearskin rug – It’s a sleigh rug, left over from the 1930s when my dad used to drive the horse and sleigh to elementary school in Manitoba’s bitter-cold winters. I’m impressed that almost everybody accepted its presence without question!

4. A bag of cosmetics – Believe me, I was as shocked as you when I discovered this ten-year-old item lurking in the bottom of one of my dusty unused handbags.

5. Books – As @krsmithsite pointed out, the proper place for books is on my giant wall of bookshelves; but I keep my first editions tucked away in a storage bin in my closet.

6. Suitcases – I bought the tiger-print because I thought it would be easy to spot on a baggage carousel… and then I ended up in a wrestling match with some other lady who’d thought the same thing and made off with my suitcase thinking it was her own.

7. A stuffed deer head – Nope, but I’m surprised and flattered by the number of people who thought I might have one in there. It’s good to be unpredictable. 🙂

8. A white cowboy hat decorated with pearls and silk flowers – From our campy western-themed wedding seventeen years ago. Neither of us cared about “traditional” so we decided to just have fun with it!

9. A stuffed rat – Several years ago, Ikea’s toy designers apparently thought every child should have a cuddly rodent, and my funnybone was so tickled that I had to buy a couple. (Not Fuzzy Bunny, @ElTea, but close.) The rats migrate around our house, showing up in odd places and provoking chuckles every time.

10. A heart monitor – For use with my Nike Smartwatch at the gym.

11. Wax crayons – I keep some goodies in my closet for when the little great-nieces-and-nephews come to visit.

12. A plastic flute – See above.

13. A set of knives – The same tub contains items that are awaiting either gifting or re-gifting, and I don’t even remember where this carving set came from. (Shhh, don’t tell.)

14. 4½” candy-apple red stiletto pumps – Nope. I’d love to say I own a pair, but I don’t.

15. A backpack – Actually, I have a couple of them in there, plus a couple of duffel bags.

16. Half a dozen waist pouches – Sorry, @jenny_o, I really do have half a dozen. I buy them in bulk whenever I can find them because they’re hard to come by and I wear them out fast. (My friend Judy refuses to be seen with me while I’m buying them. I think she’s afraid my fashion disability might be contagious.)

17. A luggage cart – Yep.

18. Pink cowboy boots – That’s a resounding ‘no’. I do have several pairs of western boots, but I draw the line at pink.

19.Christmas cards – Gotta store ‘em somewhere.

20. A camera tripod – See above.

21. Dusty business clothes – It’s probably about time to vacuum them again…

22. A Frisbee – Nope, the Frisbees live in the garage.

23. 4½” leopard-print satin stiletto pumps – I got them for ten bucks at Payless, intending to use them for a photo shoot that never happened. But they give me a giggle because they make me think of the scene with Lurene and her zebra stilettos in Book 5, so I’m keeping them. After all, who knows when one might need satin animal-print stilettos?

24. A sequined evening gown – Believe it or not I have one, and it still fits. It’s a classic design, so I might even wear it again. Someday. Maybe. But not with Item 23.

25. A dead plant – No. Usually my plants flourish and take over, but if one actually dies I commend its remains to my backyard garden, not my closet.

26. A soap dispenser – Yep, it’s another item in the gift tub.

27. Dust bunnies – I’d love to say no, but the embarrassing truth is that I found a flock of them happily reproducing behind my storage bins.

28. Boxing gloves – One pair 14-oz. boxing gloves; one pair muay thai gloves.

29. Scented candles – These live in the gift tub, too, waiting for their scent to dissipate enough that I can stand to have them in the house. It’s been about five years so far.

30. A clothes shaver – For some reason I have two. Never been used.

And… drum roll, please…

As you’ve probably noticed, nobody correctly guessed all five items; but Lois and el Tea were closest with three each. So, as a tie-breaker I’ll use a random number generator to select a number between 1 and 100 – whoever guesses closest gets an appearance in Book 12! Ladies, please post your guess in the comments below.

Thanks for playing, everybody! And now, inquiring minds want to know: What’s the oddest thing in your closet?

* * *

New discussion over at the Virtual Backyard Book Club: Watch Your Language, Young Lady! How do you feel about Aydan’s swearing? Click here to have your say!

Peek Into My Closet

July 13, 2016 / Diane Henders / 89 Comments

A few months ago I mentioned I had run across a list of impromptu speech topics for kids. It amused me, so I hung onto it for potential inspiration. One of the topics that caught my eye was “What you would find in my closet”. Prosaic, yes? But the part that tickled my funnybone was the addendum: “Make something up”.

Well.

Let’s have a peek into my imaginary closet, shall we?

First off, don’t step into that human-sized glass cylinder with the Google Maps interface displayed on the outside. That’s my teleportation chamber, and it’ll send me anywhere on earth in the blink of an eye. (And it gets me there and back intact, too, unlike the Galaxyquest version.)

Next to that is a safe containing several million dollars in untraceable cash.

Why are you looking at me like that? Of course I’d never use my teleporter to pop into bank vaults in the dark of night! I won that money fair and square with the lottery ticket that’s framed on the wall right over the vault. Honest.

At the back is a TARDIS – not because I want to travel through time, but because it’s bigger on the inside. One can never have too much closet space.

Inside the TARDIS is a giant toolbox full of high quality tools, all clean and organized and ready for use. (And it’s got a Hubby-proof lock on it so the tools stay clean and organized and ready to use.)

There’s also a gourmet kitchen stocked with the latest tools and appliances, fresh delicious ingredients, and that all-important cooking gadget: a top-notch personal chef. And a trap/skeet and rifle range; and a fully-equipped gym.

That’s where my flight of fancy ends, but I’m harbouring quite a few oddball items in reality, too. If you can correctly guess which five items aren’t currently residing in my closet, I’ll write you into Book 12 in a cameo appearance!

Umpteen pairs of jeans
Bellydance scarves with jingly coins
A bearskin rug
A bag of cosmetics
Books
Suitcases
A stuffed deer head
A white cowboy hat decorated with pearls and silk flowers
A stuffed rat
A heart monitor
Wax crayons
A plastic flute
A set of knives
4½” candy-apple red stiletto pumps
A backpack
Half a dozen waist pouches
A luggage cart
Pink cowboy boots
Christmas cards
A camera tripod
Dusty business clothes
A Frisbee
4½” leopard-print satin stiletto pumps
A sequined evening gown
A dead plant
A soap dispenser
Dust bunnies
Boxing gloves
Scented candles
A clothes shaver

Which five of these things are not in my closet at the time of writing? Make your guess before next Tuesday July 19^th at midnight MDT! And yes, I promise I’ll explain the presence of some of the strange items next week.

What’s in your imaginary closet?

* * *

New discussion over at the Virtual Backyard Book Club: How Do You Like That Setting? Click here to have your say!

Corrupting The Dragon

June 1, 2016 / Diane Henders / 70 Comments

*F-BOMB ALERT* This post contains a non-comprehensive list of swearwords and assorted vulgarities

When my nieces and nephews were young, I expended quite a bit of effort censoring my language while they were present. When they finally became adults, I breathed a giant sigh of relief and promptly shocked the shit out of them when I reverted to my normal vocabulary.

I didn’t really mean to let it out all at once; it was just that I was so glad to finally be past the point where I could be accused of corrupting innocents. I knew they’d heard it all before in school long before they ever heard those words pass my lips, but I didn’t want to be accused of being a bad example.

(Though, come to think of it, I’m still a bad example. But at least as adults they can choose whether it’s more appropriate to follow my bad example or just pretend they don’t know me.)

Anyhow, my point is: I thought my days as a corrupting influence were over.

I was wrong. Last week I corrupted a dragon.

Not a mythical beast (which would have been oh-so-cool), but a software dragon. Dragon Naturally Speaking, to be exact. It’s supposed to transcribe spoken words into typed text and I’m always looking for ways to streamline my work, so several weeks before Christmas I bit the bullet and laid my money down. Then I got so busy I didn’t have time to set it up.

But I finally had time to tackle it last week. After a rocky start in which it pretended to recognize my microphone but in fact ignored it (causing me to exercise my considerable vocabulary once again), I got everything installed and ready to go.

Dragon learns your vocal quirks and vocabulary as it goes along. One of the ways it does this is by reading through documents you’ve written and learning all the words that aren’t currently in its database.

You see where this is going, don’t you?

Yep, Dragon wanted to learn from me. And hoo-boy, did it! I was afraid its little software synapses were going to melt.

Its analysis of my latest book took quite a bit of time. Then it spat out a list of ‘new words’ that looked like a tutorial for a preacher’s son off the leash for the first time:

I didn’t know whether to laugh or be ashamed of myself. (I laughed, of course. Uproariously.) And I foresee even more laughter in the future, when the software mistakes innocent words for their less polite counterparts. Let’s just say that I won’t be using it anytime soon for writing business emails (unless I scrupulously edit it first).

To tell the truth, I’m little bit pleased that the next time Dragon messes up and makes me emit a burst of profanity, it’ll actually understand what I’m trying to say.

But I haven’t activated its ‘talk back’ feature yet. Somehow that just seems like asking for trouble…

Anybody else ever used a speech-to-text program? Any tips for getting the Dragon to sit up and pay attention?

* * *

How are we doing over at the VBBC? Click here to have your say!

What’s Your Hippie Name?

March 9, 2016 / Diane Henders / 84 Comments

This week’s post comes to you with many thanks to @glbryant, whom you will likely recognize as one of my dedicated commenters on this blog.

Last week he emailed me to say he was re-reading Book 10 in preparation for the release of Book 11, and he’d realized all over again how absolutely irritating one of the characters was. (Fortunately I had intended Tyler Brock to be annoying.)

For those who haven’t read the series, Brock could make a saint blaspheme, which led @glbryant to speculate that even Moonbeam (an earth mother from Book 9 who renames everyone with hippie-type handles) wouldn’t be able to tolerate him.

This quote from his email says it all: “…if Brock had spent any time at the commune, his name would’ve been Astral Penis-Pox Douche-Weasel.”

Which left me both inspired and rolling on the floor in tears of laughter. Not only that, but it was remarkably prescient on his part, because both Moonbeam and Tyler Brock are in Book 11. (Unfortunately, Moonbeam doesn’t assign a hippie name to Brock. Missed opportunities. *sigh*)

So, without further ado, I present the Earth Spirit’s Name Generators, one for the good guys and one for the bad guys. Discover your hippie name below by looking up your initials in the tables, or feel free to make up one of your own. Post your good-guy name below (and your bad-guy name if you dare).

Turns out my good-guy name is Starry Shining Poem (which is a little lame). But I totally make up for it with my bad-guy name: Deranged Zit-Nibbler.

(Note: I swear I didn’t purposely assign words to the initials of people I know. That would have required far more forethought and evil intent than I can muster.)

Good-Guy Hippie Name

First Name	Middle Name	Last Name
A – Astral	A – Misty	A – Dreamer
B – Venus	B – Floating	B – Song
C – Blessed	C – Flowing	C – Karma
D – Starry	D – Singing	D – River
E – Heavenly	E – Cloud	E – Stream
F – Moonbeam	F – Shining	F – Dancer
G – Cosmic	G – Desert	G – Whisper
H – Aurora	H – Soaring	H – Poem
I – Sage	I – Sky	I – Breeze
J – Sunbeam	J – Earth	J – Heart
K – Beloved	K – Soul	K – Journey
L – Zen	L – Rainbow	L – Miracle
M – Dharma	M – Star	M – Butterfly
N – Infinite	N – Peace	N – Prophet
O – Harmonious	O – Sparkling	O – Seeker
P – Emerald	P – Crystal	P – Spirit
Q – Summer	Q – Flower	Q – Nirvana
R – Ambrosia	R – Blazing	R – Freedom
S – Feather	S – Glowing	S – Universe
T – Crimson	T – Daylight	T – Quest
U – Sundance	U – Serene	U – Daydream
V – Autumn	V – Secret	V – Hope
W – Wind	W – Brilliant	W – Utopia
X – Dusk	X – Sunray	X – Singer
Y – Tranquil	Y – Truth	Y – Ocean
Z – Azure	Z – Revelation	Z – Jewel

Bad-Guy Hippie Name
(Firstname with hyphenated Middlename-Lastname)

First Name	Middle Name	Last Name
A – Sleazy	A – Douche	A – Groper
B – Stoned	B – Pox	B – Gargler
C – Creepy	C – Rat	C – Bucket
D – Deranged	D – Toad	D – Humper
E – Slimy	E – Spit	E – Fondler
F – Easy	F – Zit	F – Waffle
G – Wacko	G – Weasel	G – Blister
H – Pantywaist	H – Poop	H – Nibbler
I – Diseased	I – Dong	I – Gobbler
J – Sucky	J – Scum	J – Juggler
K – Nutjob	K – Booger	K – Poker
L – Whiny	L – Pube	L – Chomper
M – Brown-nosing	M – Donkey	M – Squeezer
N – Snivelling	N – Wombat	N – Butt
O – Obnoxious	O – Jizz	O – Guzzler
P – Babbling	P – Vulture	P – Muffin
Q – Wimpy	Q – Goblin	Q – Licker
R – Lecherous	R – Monkey	R – Stroker
S – Sick	S – Platypus	S – Whacker
T – Twisted	T – Snot	T – Crumpet
U – Skeezy	U – Puke	U – Banger
V – Sketchy	V – Turd	V – Picker
W – Wasted	W – Meat	W – Jiggler
X – Bombastic	X – Pus	X – Sucker
Y – Squirrelly	Y – Slime	Y – Dongle
Z – Wanking	Z – Pecker	Z – Tickler

* * *

And in other news…

I’ll be updating my blog and website in the next few weeks, and since you’re the ones who have to look at it, I’d very much appreciate your input. I’m just in the planning stages right now, but here are a few things I’m considering:

A larger font
More obvious menus to get to pages like Books and Guest Book
A link to Pinterest boards where we can all indulge our fantasies by selecting actors to play each of the characters
A techno-geek page on the inventions
A trivia page
A virtual book club where readers can discuss questions supplied by me and/or readers.

Any requests/suggestions/comments?

Also, since the virtual book club would require frequent contributions from readers in order to make it worthwhile for everyone, would you please vote in the poll to give me an idea of how much interest there is? Thanks!

My Life’s A Thriller

March 2, 2016March 2, 2016 / Diane Henders / 60 Comments

The weeks leading up to a new release are always stressful for me – so much to do! So little time! And after spending the last five years immersed in writing, I’ve developed a few habits that spill over into my ‘real’ life (such as it is). For example, the habit of building as much tension as possible into even the smallest events.

Sometimes I get a little too caught up in my work…

caught up in my work

And, in other thrilling news:

First: Is that a turtle in your pants, or are you just happy to see me? http://www.ctvnews.ca/canada/ont-man-fined-for-smuggling-nearly-40-live-turtles-in-his-pants-1.2792723

I suspect it wasn’t much of a thrill for the turtles, but, as my blogging buddy Beth Younker points out, if one of them had been a snapping turtle it might have been an exciting time for both smuggler and border guards alike. Sadly, no snapping turtles were included, but the article does have a rather questionable reference to ‘red-eared sliders’. Sounds like a euphemism to me…

And this: http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/wynne-photo-op-goes-wrong-1.3470752. ‘Cause seriously, how often do you get to see a premier posing with a giant pink phallic object? I doubt if it did much for her, but the media got a cheap thrill from it… and the rest of us laughed our asses off!

Any thrills in your life this week?

Pre-orders are available for Book 11: The Spies That Bind! So far Amazon, Smashwords, Barnes & Noble, and Apple are up, but I’m still waiting on Kobo (as usual). As soon as they’re all available, I’ll send out an email to everyone on the New Book Notification list. I’ll also send a second email on March 18 when the book is released.

If you’d like to sign up for new release notifications, just click here. (If you already signed up for a previous book, you’re still on the list unless you unsubscribed or changed your email address.)

…And That’s My Cover Story

February 24, 2016February 24, 2016 / Diane Henders / 47 Comments

Woohoo! The cover art and blurb for Book 11 are finished! As with any process where I’m involved, there have been some giggles along the way.

Rick Hand of Hand Crafted Images always makes it fun to shoot the cover photo, and luckily he’s got a great sense of humour. He needs it when he’s working with a so-called model like me.

I’ve mentioned my uncanny knack for twisting my face into the world’s goofiest expression at the precise moment the camera clicks. (At least I prefer to think I only look goofy for that instant. If it’s all the time, please don’t tell me – I prefer to cling to my illusions.)

But apparently I also have a gift for twisting my body into poses that make a photographer (and everybody else) go “WTF?!?”

For example, Rick was testing the lighting levels when I did this:

I don’t know what the hell I was thinking but apparently it was something like, “‘Scuse me while I stick this cardboard gun up my own ass. And if I place my left hand just so, it’ll look like a giant schlong hanging out the front of my jeans.”

Yep, I’ve got a real gift for modelling. It’s a lucky thing Rick’s good at arranging me because my sole talent is holding still once he’s got me in place.

Moving on to the title selection:

You probably already know that my geeky OCD personality requires spreadsheets for everything, including titles. I’ve itemized every word that rhymes with ‘spy’, along with a list of common phrases that include those words. So when it’s title time, I consider the themes in the book I’ve just written and try to match up a phrase that works.

But apparently there’s an easier way: An app at portent.com generates titles automatically based on user-supplied keywords. So I entered ‘female spy’ and sat back to wait for the perfect title for Book 11.

Here are the contenders:

“How Female Spies Make You A Better Lover”: I do my best to make my sex scenes hot, but I didn’t realize I was providing such a valuable service to society. Go, me! *buffs fingernails against shirt and looks smug*

“Doing Female Spies The Right Way”: Is it me, or does Portent seem to have a one-track mind?

“True Facts About Justin Bieber’s Love For Female Spies”: Okay, now they’re just scaring me.

“The 12 Biggest Female Spies Blunders”: This one’s pretty appropriate since Aydan does tend to blunder into situations, but it’s not really the catchy title I had in mind.

“Why Female Spies Are The 51^st Shade Of Grey”: Why Portent, you kinky thing! You’ve been peeking through my blinds again, haven’t you?

“Why Female Spies Are Scarier Than Dating Taylor Swift”: I’m not sure what level of fear we’re talking about here. It seems reasonable to be more afraid of female spies, but then again I don’t know Taylor Swift.

“Shocking Ways Female Spies Will Make You Better In Bed”: I’m sensing a theme here…

“How To Fight Lex Luthor Using Only Female Spies”: Superman, are you paying attention?

“How Female Spies Killed Kenny”: I’ve never watched an episode of South Park but apparently Kenny has died in all sorts of creative ways, so this seems plausible.

But I guess I’m just set in my ways. Despite the stellar appeal of Portent’s shortlist, I decided to stick with my spreadsheet even though one of the above titles could probably have made me famous. (Or infamous. It’s a fine line.) So voilà, Book 11:

Secret agent Aydan Kelly is hoping to resume her peaceful life as a bookkeeper, until her director issues an ultimatum: Go undercover as an arms dealer or go to jail for life. But when Aydan realizes her co-worker’s son has been taken by a serial killer, she defies orders in an attempt to save the child.

Neglecting her undercover assignment may cost more than just her freedom. When the gunrunner she’s been baiting threatens her loved ones, Aydan must choose between protecting them herself or entrusting their safety to geriatric amateur vigilantes while she closes in on the killer.

How much will she risk for a child who may already be dead?

* * *

The release date is March 18, 2016, and The Spies That Bind will be available for pre-order in about a week. If you’d like to receive an email notification when it’s available, please click here to sign up for my New Book Notification List.