Confirmation: Amines Are Like Drugs :P

Had to go out for dinner on Sat night to a wood-fired pizza restaurant. Dinner was delicious, as expected – and the food reactions were awful, as expected. *sigh*. It didn’t help that I made the mistake of eating a GIANT BOWL of rocket salad before realising that oops, yeah, rocket =/= lettuce and while lettuce is pretty fine for me in moderate amounts, rocket is on the DEATH DIE DO NOT EAT list >.< Urgh.

So, two extremely sleepless nights (less than 4 hours each, I think) on Sat and Sun, and then Monday evening I was just hyper as anything, feeling like I’d been drugged 😛

Interestingly, amines seem to amplify the function of my critical brain while diminishing my creative brain; I definitely can’t write while reacting to them. Sat down to try and it was all like, This sucks, This is stupid, That word is horrible, I hate this book, etc. I really just *couldn’t* get into the character’s voice, and this is a character who’s usually dead easy for me to voice. Super mega frustration.

And also interesting, part of the anxiety was amplified. Not the fear-of-the-dark, that’s separate to regular anxiety and seems to be triggered partly by a huge amount of salicylates, and partly by sustained low mood (i.e. feeling flat, tired, or otherwise negative for several days in a row – something that can be triggered by lack of sleep, which is triggered by amines, so the amines can be partly responsible for the fear-of-dark, but not directly, and certainly not after only one meal, even though it was a GIANT amine-heavy dose), but the regular, plain-old variety that’s the precursor to depression: feeling like I suck, second-guessing everything I do and especially say, and running old conversations/highly-negative moments on repeat obsessively.

It wasn’t *bad* this week, only just enough to notice it was happening, so I’m totes fine, but it IS definitely interesting. Because a lot of that kind of thinking is fear-of-judgement based, which is uber-critical brain, right?

ALSO interesting was that I powered through my marking at hitherto-unheard of speeds: I marked an entire class set in a couple of hours on Sat night + Sunday, and then another entire class set just on Monday alone – AND I didn’t even stay up late to do so, I finished it all by 8 o’clock.

You guys. That was weird. 

I am NOT a fast marker. It’s usually laborious and slow and tedious, and getting through two sets in essentially two days? I have NEVER done that before.

And guess what marking involves? Yep. Uber critical-brain oriented.

So it seems like amines basically affect me like a stimulant for my critical brain. For marking, that can be a great thing. For shutting up the critical brain and letting me sleep, write, or not be anxious? Not so great.

And now I want to go to a bunch of research about possible links between depression/anxiety and critical-brain activity.

Related but random other observations:

  • Writers are more neurotic as a group than other creatives. Why? What specifically is it about writing that makes our mental health vulnerable?
  • My critical brain seems to throw tantrums when it thinks I’m ignoring it. If I’ve done a lot of creative work and regular work but no hard-thinking work lately, I’m a LOT more susceptible to anxiety/self-doubt.
  • Could this type of anxiety be critical-brain overload, such as I seem to be getting when eating amines? Could writers combat critical-brain tantrums (anxiety, self-doubt) by letting the critical brain out to play, exercising it by doing, say, some soduko or something hard and thinky??

Where’s a good researcher? I need to pay someone to investigate this for me.

So anyway, to give this some semblance of a conclusion… Amines: Not For Amy! Unless I want to stay up really, really late and get some marking done 😛

Practising In Public, Or, I Have A Book Coming Out in May :3

Years ago, I read an article that prompted somewhat of an epiphany. This is not, in and of itself, a noteworthy event, as this is something that happens with rather astounding regularity in my life. I guess when you read a lot, and when you read widely, this kind of thing is also just called ‘Learning More Stuff’. Yay learning! Yay stuff!

But anyway, this particular article (which I’m sure I linked to at the time but can’t for the life of me find on the blog at present*) was about a distinguishing factor between writing and a lot of other art-forms: namely that in many art-forms, practising in public is not only permissible, it’s actively encouraged. Painting pictures? You don’t have to be a painterly genius for the school to let you exhibit your work. Learning an instrument? Recitals are generally actively required, whether you sound like you’re strangling a cat with tomato sauce or not. Writing? …Yeah, probably just better put that notebook down and not show anyone your writing until you’re *good*, okay, honey? There’s a lovely sane writer person. *pat pat*.

The article, and subsequently I, took umbrage with this notion. Why NOT practise in public? Look at The Martian, for example. It’s arguable but also pretty intuitively obvious that the book only ever became as great as it did because the author took a risk and practised in public, garnering assistance and feedback along the way that made the book what it was.

Look. I don’t want to get too hung up on this idea; I just wanted to note that you know what, writers? Sometimes it’s okay for us to share stuff with The Reading Public that we know has flaws.*****

Segue. In 2010, I wrote a book. It was a book-of-the-heart, the first book I wrote straight through without blood, sweat or tears, and it was magical, and elating, and glorious. It was a book, actually, for my sister, not because the plot mirrors her life or anything (and even less so now than in that first draft) but because, at the time, it felt important that I could give her the gift of happy escapism for a while–and it dovetailed nicely with a fragment of an idea I’d had rolling around in my head for a while.

Segue. It’s 2017. This book has gone through about 7 drafts, at least 4 of those with relatively major changes, though it’s not like it was ever gutted and torn up for parts like some of my other novels. The resultant story is still largely the same shape as the original, just better. More book shaped, less like a whimsical object from my head.

Segue. It’s still 2017, and I have an emotional collapse on Twitter at a bunch of my writing friends. The Twinny One immediately gets onto Skype; she understands what the problem is in a way that’s hard for me to articulate on Twitter, and also in a way that’s hard to articulate on Twitter, she knows the solution. It’s the goalpost, she says.

See, seven years is Quite A Long Time to work on a book, really. Especially when your goal is to make some kind of living out of this. And over those years, numerous times, people have told me (kindly, for my own sanity’s sake) to put Sanctuary down, to shelve it, to walk away.

I don’t walk away from books. I’m terminally incapable. So being told to abandon this one is heart-wrenching, and I’m scared I’ll never finish it, and I’m scared I’ll be forced by time or people or circumstance to abandon it, and secretly I’m just plain old scared that I’ll never be good enough to edit a book to The End. Editing, y’all, is HARD, HARD WORK. Taking this story, this image, this idea that you have in your head and translating it into something that not only makes sense but is just as compelling for others as it is for you? HARD.

But for the first time, Liana puts it in words that seep into my head. It’s not that I’ve changed as a writer in those seven years, though it’s also that, and I most certainly have, in leaps and glorious bounds (though some days I still stumble and crawl). It’s not, as I heard this to mean, that I could do better, that I could write better than this, that I need to be constantly revisiting Sanctuary to update it with the new skills I’ve learned.

It’s the opposite. It’s not that I’ve changed as a writer so much as that I keep moving the goalpost. Of course the book will never be DONE if I keep applying new criteria to it; no book I ever write will be done if I work like that.

There are still some flaws in this book. I know they’re there, but fixing them would mean gutting the book and starting over, and I don’t have it in me to do that yet. Maybe one day I would, but I’m faced with a choice: I can let the book go, or I can hold onto it for another seven years, picking and prodding and angsting and hoping to someday get it ‘right’. I need to let it go. But letting go doesn’t have to mean shelving it. It can also just mean at last, finally, calling it done.

Practising in public, you see.

So here it is: my glorious piece of imperfection, a tiny part of my soul carved into words and made flesh of its own. I’m calling it done, I’m writing The End, and I’m turning it over to you, my wonderful, wonderful reader. I hope you’ll love it. But if you don’t, that’s okay; I’m practising in public, and I’ve done what I needed to do. Finally, I’m letting this glorious beast go.

A teal book cover with light exploding from the centre of it. Shadowed butterflies fly out and up from the light, and the title, Where Shadows Rise, overlays the image in a serif font with decorative curly elements. It's pretty. Very, very pretty.
Where Shadows Rise
Sanctuary Book 1
Coming May 24, 2017
Amazon | B&N | Kobo | iBooks | and more 🙂
(print and ebook)
(yay)
(isn’t the cover *astounding*?)


The fairies have a secret they’re just dying to protect…

Emma knows breaking the rules can get you into trouble; it nearly got her sister killed. That’s why Emma’s stuck in backwater Nowra, Australia, under temporary witness protection with no friends—and no life.

So when Emma has to break the rules to retrieve the runaway family dog, she decides the fairy she sees is clearly a guilt-induced hallucination. Problem is, hallucinations don’t usually send you invites to Fairyland—and shadows don’t usually chase you home.

It would be easy to ignore the invite.
It would be sensible to avoid the shadows.

But when Emma’s only new friend is snatched by the shadows in the middle of the night, Emma knows she has a decision to make: stick to the rules and leave her friend and dog to die, or risk her own life to save them.

CHAPTER ONE

THE DOORBELL RANG. That doesn’t sound exciting in and of itself, but let me assure you: it was the most heart-pounding thing to happen all week. It was my birthday, I was home alone, and because of the stupid witness protection business, I’d been stuck in the house all summer. I hadn’t even been allowed out to see friends, because we’d arrived in town at the end of last year with only three school weeks to go—so I didn’t have any friends.

Well. I had friends, but they were back in Melbourne, and I wasn’t allowed to contact them for fear someone would track down our new location. Lucky me.

Anyway, it was my birthday, I was alone because Mum and Dad had gone to do something regarding birthday surprises and Anna had inexplicably chosen to go with them, and the doorbell had just rung. I stared at the closed door, heart pounding, while our chocolate Labrador, Veve, tried to chew it down. Was I going to open it?

Of course I was going to open it. The chances of it being a mobster were slim to none; for starters, a mobster wouldn’t have rung the bell.

 

A teal book cover with light exploding from the centre of it. Shadowed butterflies fly out and up from the light, and the title, Where Shadows Rise, overlays the image in a serif font with decorative curly elements. It's pretty. Very, very pretty.
Where Shadows Rise
Sanctuary Book 1
Coming May 24, 2017
Amazon | B&N | Kobo | iBooks | and more 🙂

 

* Granted it is 10pm on Sunday night and I just spent 10.5 hours of my day marking things and my brain is leaking somehow out my ears and it’s goo, all goo, everything is goooooooo.**

** The number of times I mistyped ‘good’ for ‘goo’ just then is shameful. And probably indicative of my Tired. And possibly indicative of my subconscious’s determination to be optimistic? Sure, let’s run with that.***

*** Better than running with scissors.****

**** Imma get back to the main article in a second, I SWEAR. Any second now. Aaaaaany second…….

***** Of course, just as the right to voice your opinion does not include the right to be taken seriously, so too practising in public does not shield you from having substandard work received as such. I don’t advise this course of action unless you have a thick skin, or aim to develop one.

Do All The Things: The Post Office Incident

Through no specific purpose or conscious design, one of my life mottoes seems to have become DO ALL THE THINGS (and probably do them Now, and definitely do them Well). There’s a reason I recount an incident in the introduction of the forthcoming Darkness & Good anthology whereby the Twinny One, Liana Brooks, tweeted that if you agree to a ‘small and simple’ Amy Laurens plan, you need to realise that you’ve just agreed to a ten-year magnus opus complete with references and footnotes.*

However. Being that I am not actually Superwoman (yet), trying to Do All The Things (Now + Well) comes with inherent perils and pitfalls. Mostly because, in order to actually attempt to DO all the things, my time/life/sleeping/eating/oxygenation is rigorously scheduled and ordered, because I MUST USE EVERY MINUTE WELL.

And yes. I have spontaneity scheduled as well.**

One of the most evident pitfalls, then, is that when every minute is booked out, Things That Go Wrong can often have a bigger snowball effect than they ought (which, yes, means that sometimes I overreact way more than I ought. Sorry ‘bout that *cringe*). Sometimes this leaves me feeling grumpy and put out that the universe is not magically aligning to enable my quest for superheroism; but other times it really just gets to the point of absurdity and there’s nothing you can do but laugh.

I’ve lost my wallet. This, in and of itself, is not an entirely unexpected thing. For someone whose time is so rigorously plotted, you’d think that a) I’d be prone to encouraging anything that would increase my efficiency (spoiler: I am) and that b) this would include having set places to leave things like wallets so they didn’t inconveniently disappear at regular (scarily regular) intervals. AH HA HA. You’re so cute.

Look, I have to have SOMETHING that prevents sheer hubris, okay? Misplacing keys, wallets, hairbrushes and sanity are this something, as well as my persistent inability to stop trying to kill myself with sugar and my inability to put myself to bed on time. I am secretly five. Whatcha gonna do about it.

Okay, so, wait. I have points here. My wallet is lost. Usually this is not a terribly stressful thing, because I know inherently that it is Around The House Somewhere, and lo, it usually is, and this turns out Fine. However. It’s actually been nearly four weeks (probably five or six by the time I post this) since I last saw my wallet, and it’s becoming moderately inconvenient. I can only say ‘moderately’ because of this marvellous and terrifyingly-possibly-maybe-insecure invention called my phone, which has a bank app on it and the ability to connect with things through NFC***, where ‘things’ in this instance means ‘payment machines that accept paywave’. Paywave on my phone, LIFE SAVER.

Except.

So there’s this post office just down from school, right? The people who run it are lovely, and I taught their child once upon a time, and said child was lovely and so the lovely people with the lovely child think *I* am lovely,**** and so visiting there is an experience of mutual loveliness. Also I run a not-a-small-business-it’s-just-a-hobby-I-swear with my husband sewing baby stuff, like dribble bibs and burp cloths and portable play mats and scrap bunnies. Pretty, and something I can create that doesn’t a) involve a computer screen and b) won’t be destroyed within a matter of hours, unlike, say, cake. (Though cake is pretty awesome still, let’s face it.)

So. Sew? So. Post office. Baby goods that need posting. A missing wallet. My time scheduled to the minute. Lovely post office people. A phone I can make payments on. Probably we can see where this is going, if we pretend my life is a novel, but I don’t generally actually go around pretending my life is a novel, so I didn’t see the inevitable conflict. Also, I’d experienced this IDENTICAL set-up numerous times before and everything had been fine.

Wait, that’s how jokes work, isn’t it? Round 1: all good. Round 2: all good. Round 3: HA HA YOU JUST SET YOURSELF ON FIRE.

*sigh* I knew my life was a joke.

In this instance, ‘setting myself on fire’ involved having a parcel that needed to go out urgently because the not-a-client-it’s-a-hobby had paid extra for express post, and a phone that randomly, for no apparent reason, chose that moment to stop allowing me to use it to pay for things.

Scan phone. Screen: Processing. Me: Nonchalant about the big green circle with the tick that’ll come up in just a second to show I’ve paid.

Just a second. Any moment now.

Okay wait just let me try that again, no one saw the big red circle with the cross, we’re good.

Aaaaany minute now.

Yup. Uh huh. Lookit me pay for things on my phone!

*sigh*

Spoiler: the phone did not pay for things.

Additional spoiler: the lovely people, because they are lovely, took the parcel anyway and assured me they would post it, but that I needed to come back tomorrow with cash.

CASH???????????? I am paying for things with my PHONE, and you want CASH??? This is the financial equivalent of asking a hyperdrive space pilot who hops back and forth between here and Alpha Centuri in less time than it takes to blink if she could maybe just bring the 1950s Toyota next time. CASH?! What even IS this thing of which you speak???

True confession: I once had to pay for $2.19 of groceries on card, because I didn’t have the cash.

Additional true confession: For several years that was a good story, until I paid for 39c on my phone at a grocery store two weeks ago.

BUT. Lovely post office people were doing me a HUGE favour here, and I was pretty epically embarrassed to be taking such advantage of their apparent good will, so cash it was, and tomorrow it was, because good heavenly frogs if not being able to pay on the day was embarrassing, not paying for a week was exponentially more so.

…Do we remember that bit about my time? And scheduling? What do we think, lovely reader? Did Amy have time in her schedule AT ALL the following day to get to the post office before it closed? Anything? Even half a thirty-second minute?

AH HA HA HA HA of course not.

And because ‘Think Things Through’ is not actually an item on my to-do list, did Amy remember to do this? Spoiler: No. No she did not. Instead, she realised AFTER she arrived at work that morning that a) the money was due, b) the husband had not magically acted as an intermissiary between Amy and the ATM, and c) there was no time to rectify either of these situations.

Spoiler: This story has a happy ending.

Additional spoiler: It involves my sister.

See, due to the aforementioned Lack Of Time, I’d already arranged for my sister to pick my son up from school, because it was Swimming Day and also Meetings After School Day and, my super powers being as yet disappointingly underdeveloped, I was not able to attend meeting, collect son, and then be on time for swimming. (As it turns out I’m not so good at just ‘collect son, be on time for swimming’, let alone adding in the first, HAR.)

So I called sister. PLEASE, PLEASE DEAREST OF ALL DEAR SISTERS, I probably began.

What do you want? she probably replied suspiciously.

I explained my predicament, promised I would immediately transfer her the money required, and she, because she is awesome, said that she would make it happen.

Apparently ‘making it happen’ involved making her husband do it (thanks, husband-of-sister!), which, I can only imagine the experience from the postal workers’ end: Hi, I’m a random guy who is not the husband of that disorganised-but-apparently-lovely woman you know, but here’s her money, because I’m here to SETTLE HER ACCOUNT.

(I don’t know what that’s in capitals. It just felt ominous.)

I’d like to pretend that this post has a sensible, thematic resolution, but—No, wait. I’d like to pretend that this post has a sensible, thematic resolution. There. Okay? Good.

Possibly we could thematise that Amy should not be allowed out of doors on her own. Maybe that if you want to schedule your life to the minute, not losing Important Goods like wallets should be a priority. Maybe that Having Friends And Family To Rely On Is Necessary When You Are Trying To Go Insane. Possibly that it’s not actually POSSIBLE to Do All The Things. Definitely that When Things Explode In Your Face, You Should Turn Them Into A Blog Post Instead Of Crying About Them.

Look, life’s crazy, okay? And if, like me, you’re trying to do too much, it’s just about insanity. Things are going to break. YOU are probably going to break. But you know what? That’s okay. Because really, we’re all just broken weirdos desperately trying to pretend the spandex is a superhero costume. It’s all good.

And when all else fails, laugh.******

 

 

* I like footnotes.*****

** I really wish I was joking. Alack. (Also, a lack. Of time, common sense, humility, you know. WHEE. SEE ME BE SUPERWOMAN, RAWR!!)

*** NFC. Not for consumption? Not for couples? Network for coupling, in the strictly technological sense? Nice friendly chickens. This seems most plausible. I’m calling it my Nice Friendly Chickens from now on. As in: Oh, I need to make a payment? No worries, let me just turn the Nice Friendly Chickens on on my phone!

**** I am lovely, of course, but the funny thing about people is that the more lovely they are, the more lovely they tend to assume you are. Yay humanity, etc.

***** Rather a lot. More so in this post than usual.

****** Though probably not at a funeral. That would be moderately insensitive.*******

******* Unless of course the speaker made a joke. Then it would probably be insensitive not to laugh.

3 of the Most Highly Awesome Animals With Pointy Bits On Their Faces

Yup, today I wanted to share with you three random animals that I’ve seen repeatedly around the place lately, for various reasons, elaborated on below. Their common point is that they all have pointy bits on their faces! Oh, also that I think they’re incredibly shiny 😉 I know, I know, this is totally random, but they’re pretty cool animals, so bear with me 😉

First up we have the delightful nawab caterpillar, who’s been doing the rounds on Twitter:

green nawab caterpillar with frondy face that looks like an alien helmet

Innit so cute?! For a caterpillar that is…

Secondly, we have the ever-charming nudibranchs (also known less gloriously as sea slugs 😉 )! This is just an indicative image; nudibranchs come in all colours of the rainbow and are just as fabulous :o) I have a bit of a fascination with these critters (probably they are one of my favourite animals) and I see them on my social media feeds pretty regularly as the twinny one Liana Brooks is also enamoured of all things oceanic 🙂

white nudibrach with black and orange stripes and orange fronds

And finally, narwhals!! There are a whole buncha memes out there about how narwhals are the unicorns of the sea, and AS IF THEY AREN’T, HA. I’m kind of obsessed with narwhals at the moment because I’m plotting a narwhal birthday for the toddler later in the year O:) I may or may not already have the cake planned……. (Actually, that’s what inspired the theme of the party, because I’d seen all these amazing unicorn drip cakes around the place and wondered how I could put my own personal spin on them, and since she had a fabulous angler fish drip cake for her first birthday I figured why not continue the ocean theme?! :D)

two narwhals sword fighting in the ocean

So there you go. My random top three animals for the year so far. Leave a comment and let us know: what’s YOUR top animals of the year so far?

 

Belatedly, I’m Doing A Vodcast In 2.5 Hours!

…Actually more like 2.33 hours, but let’s not quibble.

It starts like this: the inestimable Lindsay Buroker wanted to interview the Twinny One, Liana Brooks, notionally I think about her career as a hybrid author (i.e. an author who uses large publishers, small publishers, and also does self publishing – not an author who is themselves a hybrid, though if you can find one of those I’m sure a vodcast with them would be really interesting too, and I know Liana wishes she was a human/machine hybrid most days, so you know. *ahem*. ). Since Inkprint Press is a team effort*, Liana suggested I be in on the vodcast too – and somehow like magic now I am? I’m still not really sure how this all happened, hence why you’re getting a super-last-minute promo post about it o.O 😀

ANYWAY. Tune in at 1pm Australian Eastern Daylight Time, which is like 5pm yesterday in Alaska where Liana is and 6pm yesterday wherever Lindsay is**, but REGARDLESS IT’S TWO HOURS AND PROBABLY ABOUT FIFTEEN MINUTES from the time I post this, by the time I post it, to hear my Australian accent, some rambling about Inkprint Press and self publishing, and probably reference to my and Liana’s plans to take over the world.

Wait. Maybe not that last one. They’re supposed to be secret.

Anyway.

TL;DR: Listen/watch HERE in a little over TWO HOURS, or later, apparently, on iTunes. Link to come. Also, it looks like you should be able to download it straight from the website once it’s up? (Oh heavens, you mean this thing is permanent?)

* Liana says it’s all me, but at the very least she’s the one providing the writing fodder at this point, so you know 😀

** OHOH I KNOW THIS. It’s PST time!

Announcements and Stories and Adminy Glories!

Because who doesn’t love a good rhyme, amirite? O:)

ANYway. I meant to post about all this two, maybe three weeks ago, but then the site went down because I tried to update wordpress, and then I was away for a week because my darlingest baby sister graduated from high school, and then Stuff. And Things. And probably a lot of Nonsense.

Anyway (redux). Here we are. It’s nearly the end of September (behold, the terror!!) and I am staring down the barrel of a scant 9 more school weeks until summer/Christmas holidays. This, my friend, is a Very Exciting Thing.

But not the Thing I am here to discuss. Man, this is becoming entirely circumlocutious. *ahem*.

POINT NUMBER ONE:
Woo, I have a new book that will be releasing at the end of October! *o/* *

It is a very niche book, one that will doubtless not interest many people, and that was a beast of a bleeding headache to format, but hey! It’s an addition to the line-up and there is a school that is maybe-possibly interested in buying a class set, so chalk that one up to a win. /nodnod.

Oh wait, you want to know what the book IS?! o.O Sure. That… makes sense. It’s called Where Your Treasure Is, and as the subtitle boldly proclaims, it is a book of seven Christian plays for young people. You’ll also note the cunning use of my middle initial in the author’s name bit; this is to serve as a warning flag for people who might not be interested in Christian-related Things, m’kay?

Look, there is even a pretty cover!

Where Your Treasure Is

 

So yes. It is a book of plays, I will create a page for it on the website sometime soonish, the page will show the back cover which lists the various plays and summaries thereof, and it will be available at the end of October. Depending on work and Other Things, I may be organised enough to organise a preorder period for the e-version, too.

Yay! Book!

POINT NUMBER TWO:
Point number two is less dramatic but probably of more general interest: Liana and I discovered we were more prolific in our earlier writing days (i.e. the last couple of years :P) than we had guessed, and the Darkness and Good short story blog now has fodder all the way through to mid-February next year (allowing for January off). Hooray! You can find a new short story there EVERY SINGLE WEEK, alternating between Liana and me, on a variety of sff-related themes. Stories for the remainder of the year will post US Friday/AU Saturday. Next year we’ll be switching to a US Mon/AU Tues schedule. Because, um, because??

But anyway: tl;dr – THERE ARE STORIES. FOR FREE. YOU SHOULD READ THEM HERE.

Thus concludes what is quite possibly the most rambly and least coherent blog post I have ever written. Oy. *Cookies* if you made it all the way through.

* *o/* is a cheerleader, arms up the in air, waving poms. Just in case I needed to clarify. Because my DARLING husband decided it was …something else. So I thought I’d better. Clarify, that is. *sigh*.

Found This in August’s Drafts. Oh Dear.

Soooooo, Liana Brooks (aka The Twinny One) and I may or may not have had a bizarre conversation the other day. Okay wait, let’s face it: the odds are strong that we did, because most conversations between us involve bizarrity. We’re authors. It happens.

Right. No. This conversation was particularly bizarre, and it may or may not have gone something like this… (with the context that I have yeast-sensitivities, and if I eat too much bread I get sick ;))

Liana Brooks Liana Brooks
Eat the bread and save an Amy!
Collect the whole set!
Amy L Amy L
lol!!
A WHOLE SET OF AMYS?
OH NOES
THE WORLD WILL END
Liana Brooks Liana Brooks
Teacher Amy, Mommy Amy, Writer Amy, Creative Writing Amy, Nonfic Serious Amy, Laos Amy with special backflip action (elephant sold seperately) 
Amy L Amy L
ROFL!!!!!!!!! 
Liana Brooks Liana Brooks
Sleeping Amy, Baking Amy, Garden Amy (with mystery seeds!)
World Traveler Amy
yup
there’s a whole set

if I ever find a doll that looks like us I may go so far as to buy one with all the Amy outfits for you
so you can have a set of Amy dolls
because…
[snip]if someone mouths off and needs you, you can give them the appropriate Amy doll”Sorry, work hours are over, but you can have teacher Amy. Collect the whole set!”

 

We… are odd. Let’s just leave it at that.