Reminder: Win!

Just a reminder that my spring contest (even thought it doesn't feel like spring right now) is going on until 12pm central tonight. First thing in the morning, Ilsa will draw a random name from among the entrants, then I'll contact the winner and make an announcement. If you haven't done so already, check out my contest page for info on how you can win a $25 gift certificate to either B&N or Amazon. Your choice. We're had a nice number of entrants so far, more than my last contest and with half of those as new joiners to my Yahoo group. Yay for assembling happy hordes of fans! Good luck, everyone.

Stuff's Been Happening

On Wednesday, the day of the No Rita Call, I wrote to my agent about how bored and stuck I am with this project logjam. Everything I write at the moment just feels like busy work! I even went so far as to mention that I saw an appealing "help wanted" sign in a local ice cream parlor. Getting desperate! So we picked one of my projects to focus on, which turns out to be Christies #1, the one I read to Chicago North last month.

An interruption: I was going to include the blurb I wrote up, but I suddenly got very superstitious and took it down. Forgive me. I'll post more about it if/when we have news. Suffice to say that Caren thinks it's great fun, really worthy, and we're aiming to pitch it next week. That's a weight off my mind. At least we're still moving forward, and I love having her support.

In other news, our health insurance has denied claim benefits for the foot procedure I had done in February--this is in addition to denying approval for future procedures. Apparently sclerotherapy (the vein shrinking process) is most generally used for the removal of varicose veins, so they think it's a non-medical cosmetic procedure. As if! I sicked my doc on them, because he was quite outraged, and I've filed official appeals. Otherwise we'll owe my doc $3K and my foot will be perma-sux. Hopefully this will be resolved shortly.

Then of course it's gonna snow this weekend. Just shoot me. Doesn't the weather realize that I've already had my traditional "first ice cream of spring"? It CAN'T snow now!

And I know only about two readers out there care about this, but I'm also pretty bummed because Penny's out of SYTYCD Australia due to injury. How heartbreaking would that be? Here's hoping Charlie can pull it off for them both. They were so close that they were starting to look like each other.

OMG!

Abject apologies! I just twigged that I've not updated this since they invented sliced bread. You wouldn't believe the amount of people that are totally stalking me. I hope you still love me!

I'm totally and utterly flat out with an awfully big adventure, being distracted by the shiny and just being a slave to society in general. My day is full to overflowing from the moment my children manage to unlock my bedroom door and use me as a jumping castle to well past midnight. I'm looking at rectifying this. Maybe tomorrow.

I absolutely, positively promise I will update you with my nefarious activities as soon as I get a chance. Seriously! Seriously?

All text courtesy of The Lazy Bloggers Post Generator. Excellent.

Labyrinth (1986)

This isn't a full review--more like observations on a very subversive film, and how the girls reacted to seeing it for the first time.

I probably saw it at age 11, because we didn't go to the theater but we had HBO. And I remember seeing it repeatedly. Eleven years old is an interesting age for a girl. I love this pic from "The Simpsons" where Lisa is reading Non-Threatening Boys magazine. (The Coreys prove how long the show has been on!)

But it's true: pre-pubescent girls tend to dig guys who are a little androgynous, a little pretty faced. They're not so scary as grown men, especially when the most prominent examples of full-fledged masculinity in their daily lives are authority figures such as fathers and teachers. Evolutionarily speaking, it's probably a defense mechanism against under-developed girls desiring what they should avoid, namely adult dudes with active sperm.

So yeah, I liked The Kid best out of the cast of "The Young Riders," when Jimmy or Sam Cain are more grown-up choices, as I've discussed previously. The Kid was built like a man but a little hesitant and still very boyish--nothing too intense. Rockers like Bon Jovi, back in the day, probably helped many a girl bridge that gap too. He had the moves and the aggression of a man, but he also wore make-up and had hair bigger than gals in Texas. Every boy band contains a diverse line-up aimed at casting a wider net for fans, resulting in intense junior high NYOTB fights about who we preferred. (For me, it was Donnie. At least I got that one right.) Robert Pattinson and the whole Twilight phenom is serving the same purpose for this generation. One day, the girls who love him will look back on their crushes, scratch their heads, and wonder what the hell they'd been smoking--even though part of them still enjoys that remembered fondness.

No wonder, then, that David Bowie in Labyrinth confused me in the pants.


He was 38 when he filmed this movie, compared to Jennifer Connelly's tender-yet-stacked 15 years. A man in every sense, particularly in the region of his tight-fitting breeches, he commands his scenes with a wicked intensity. Although the silly goblins and frankly cringe-worthy tunes tend to blunt his potency, it's the androgyny of his lace, hair, and make-up that keep him from being a truly frightening masculine figure. He's intriguing, intoxicating, and intense in a way that no 11-yo could articulate, but he's not a complete turn off like, ew, could be my dad.

But wasn't that always his appeal? From Ziggy to the Thin White Duke to the rest of his incarnations, Bowie lingers between overtly masculine (his performances, his posturing) and accessibly feminine (his make-up, his soft-spoken voice). I'm going to hazard a guess that many a pre-pubescent girl in Britain is experiencing the same thing with David Tennant's portrayal of The Doctor.

That's where Labyrinth is rather subversive. Ostensibly, it's about a girl coming to terms with growing up, responsibility, and making sure the fantasies of youth are kept in perspective. On a deeper level, it's also about Sarah accepting the loss of her mother, although the nature of their separation is never discussed. Sarah keeps a collection of newspaper clippings about her actress mother, suggesting that she either died or left to seek movie fame. The crux either way is abandonment grief. Many of the themes played out with her imaginary friends in the labyrinth have to do with loyalty, friendship, sticking together, overcoming obstacles through trust, and accepting the inherent unfairness of life.

But even deeper than that is the narrative of a girl's cautious approach to womanhood. Her retreat to childhood fantasies suggests a fear of the real--men, sex, and the responsibilities that come with intensely grown up trials. She's also competing with her step-mother for the attention of her father, which means she's in need of male companionship, possibly a substitute for Daddy. Even Jennifer Connelly's figure, which is very womanly yet camouflaged in all but the ballgown by loose-fitting clothes, contrasts with her dew-eyed expressions and breathy voice. (I'm including a pic of 20-yo Connelly for Keven.) She's right on the edge of becoming aware of herself as a woman.

Consider the Goblin King's final attempt to coerce/seduce Sarah:

Everything that you wanted I have done. You asked that the child be taken. I took him. You cowered before me, I was frightening. I have reordered time. I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you! I am exhausted from living up to your expectations of me. Isn't that generous? I ask so little. Just let me rule you, and you can have everything that you want. Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave.

It's a psychological field day! He's the voice of her dreams, that if she refuses responsibility and continues to live in a dream world, she could be happy--as it controls her behavior, her interactions with her family, and her dead-end future. But it could also be an articulation of sexual desire and her idealized imaginings of what that means. She, perhaps, wants an androgynous rock star goblin boyfriend who will do any and all things for her, but she understands, intuitively, that to give herself over to such a person would mean the end of her childhood.

Sarah rejects the Goblin King and accepts responsibility for her little brother, but her rejection is also a means of re-ordering her expectations and returning to the realm of a teenager, unwilling to become a woman just yet. Her previous refusal to stay trapped with him at the masked ball--the only time they touch, the only time she's dressed as a complete-with-cleavage woman--affirms this.


In the end, Sarah returns to the real world, accepts her brother with the symbolic teddy bear hand over, and still finds an outlet for her imagination by dancing in her room with the various muppet friends she's made. She puts away several items: the doll in the ballgown from her fantasy dance, the book of Labyrinth, and pictures of her mother. She's ready to end some childhood fixations, while still relying on others to see her through to full adult readiness. Interestingly, although the owl version of the Goblin King flies away, she leaves his figurine on her dresser. That decision--sexuality--is still up in the air.

Deep! Loved it.

I got a kick out of all the subtext, while the girls were alternately thrilled and scared by the whole ordeal. We've been trying to slowly ease them into live action movies such as The Princess Bride, so I tried this one tonight. Ilsa got a little upset toward the end, probably because she was getting tired. Overall they enjoyed it and found all the "disguise the subversive stuff" pratfalls and puppetry very entertaining. I'll have to see how they react to it in four or five years, but by then, they'll have their own David Bowie figure to cause pre-teen confusion.

Changes to Zebra Debut

Some news has come down from on high at Kensy about changes to the Zebra Debut line. First, as of August, the price will be going up. The $3.99 first books will be $4.99, and second books will bump from $4.99 to $5.99, which includes my January 2010 release, SCOUNDREL'S KISS. I suppose that's to be expected. Zebra Debuts have been bargain basement since the line was founded in 2004.

But we have exciting news too. Cover changes! A pair of new style covers have been revealed to their respective authors, Lori Brighton and Anthea Lawson, both for November 2009 releases. The difference is obvious and welcome.

















Oh! Oh! They look...wait for it...historical!!! Compare Anthea's to her debut, PASSIONATE. And perhaps because $5.99 is more in keeping with other mass market releases, they've taken the price off the cover, which removes the cut-rate feel.

This should be good timing for me, despite my stinky January post-Christmas release date, because we'll have 2-4 months for folks to start recognizing these new cover styles and accepting the price hike, but the changes will still seem rather fresh compared to the old ZebDu "man man man omg hot man" style.

Now I can't wait, darn it! Gimme new cover! It's like crack for writers.

Happy Equinox

The girls taught Keven something today:

Current Passions Converge

The Fray is going to be the guest performer in the results show of So You Think You Can Dance Australia, which makes a perfect night of television viewing for this 30-something mother of two--you know, dance realty show + radio friendly arena rock. Unless they vote off Penny or Charlie. I don't trust these Aussies. They got it right last year with Jack, Kate, Rhys and Demi, but they're bound to screw it up this time. Oh, and I get to vie for tix to see The Fray on July Fourth when they go on sale tomorrow. Nice. I've heard everything sounds like Coldplay now, so consider me vastly too old to make sensible pop culture commentary of any kind.

And hey, I'm radically bored. Just so you know.

A Couple New Developments

Yay! I'm driving into Chicago tomorrow to have lunch with my agent. Saying that will never get old.

On Monday, Jenn and the boys came down from Tosa to hang out for the afternoon, which was a nice time. We had ice cream and stopped in at the toy store before heading to the park. Today was a better day, weather wise, but the temps held and the park was nearly deserted.

But at the toy store, Juliette resumed her enamoration (a new word!) of Calico Critters. She's fascinated by the tinyness, the cuteness, and most of all, the collectibility. However, even a relatively small addition to her existing family would run $7-15. When I told her this, she instantly put her finger against her wiggliest tooth, a determined look on her face. I got the impression of a smack addict contemplating the necessity of two kidneys.

So Keven and I talked it over last night, and we've decided to start the girls on a small allowance. I remember having spending money of my own when we were in Nappanee--enough for a Monday night movie, or a trip to the dime store--and I had just turned seven. Juliette is right on the edge. We'll see how it goes.

Secondly, today I signed Juliette up for her first grade year. After a two month search through the ways and means of many different schools, we've decided to go with the local private K-8, Armitage Academy. This decision has taken a weight off of my mind, with regard to the search process, the financial situation, and that we now have an answer when she asks, "Where am I going to first grade next year?"

And finally, after my happy happy experience last month in starting to fix my foot: a snag. Our insurance has decided that additional sclerotherapy injections are "not medically necessary," and they've refused to authorize my treatments. In fact, the treatment I received in February is still in claims processing as they go over my doctor's notes.

So today I started the appeals process to get authorization. I've never had to do this before, and I'm trying to remain cautiously optimistic that this is all just a big corporate misunderstanding. But then again, I walked about two miles today and came home in pain. If the authorization doesn't come through, I'm going to be very distressed because my options won't be pretty.

Wow! That's like an entire post of things I'll need to update about later. Oh, except for this: Ilsa's iron levels were 100% normal at her last check-up. She'll need to stay on supplements until "she's able to eat two servings of red meat, or an equivalent plant-based iron source, consistently each day." So basically forever. But at least she's firing on all (psycho) cylinders.

Australia (2008)

Nicole Kidman (Sarah), Hugh Jackman (Drover), David Wenham (Fletcher), Brandon Walters (Nullah)

Directed by Baz Luhrmann (Moulin Rouge!)

IMDB Summary: Set in northern Australia before World War II, an English aristocrat who inherits a sprawling ranch reluctantly pacts with a stock-man in order to protect her new property from a takeover plot. As the pair drive 2,000 head of cattle over unforgiving landscape, they experience the bombing of Darwin, Australia, by Japanese forces firsthand.

My love for Moulin Rouge! knows no bounds. Even Nicole Kidman couldn't spoil that film, and without fail, I sob like a baby at the end. "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return." *sighs*

Lurhmann's style is very intense and peculiar, resulting in many folks who sit there staring at the screen with WTF!! expressions. Understandable, really. But I happen to love what he does. He suckers viewers in with his manic antics and heaps of ultra-intense colors until SMACK! Pure, gut-wrenching emotion made all the more powerful because of the farcical opening.

Then by all rights, Australia should've kicked romantic melodrama ass. Hugh Jackman built like a damn tank? Check! Sweeping love story across a harsh and war-torn expanse? Check! Baz at the helm of a picture designed to make his country look like the bee's knees of romantic destinations? Check!

Did I mention Hugh Jackman? Check check check!

But no.

Totally didn't work for me. I kept waiting for it, that emotional punch at the end, but maybe Baz doesn't do happy ending as well as tragedies. (Romeo + Juliet choked me up too. Dead lovers! Gah!) Or maybe it was that Nicole Kidman's suitably zany performance in Moulin Rouge!, in which she was a desperate courtesan and aspiring actress, didn't translate to the zaniness of an out-of-her-element aristocrat. Or maybe it was that Hugh Jackman was a parody of hero, rather than a true hero as played by Ewan McGreggor or Leo DiCaprio in their Baz films--boys who mature into men because of love, as opposed to Hugh's fully grown character, Drover, whose stunted emotions never rang true.

No, I think it was Nicole Kidman. And that kid. The boy who played Nullah was fine, but together, he and Kidman did not click. They went from strangers to Daniel Day-Lewis style "I WILL FIND YOU!" devotion in the span of about ten minutes in the middle of a three-hour film. It wasn't authentic, and it certainly wasn't compelling enough to warrant the decisions she makes.

And if this is as my friend Nancy says--a cheeky homage to romance novels, right down to the Harlequin cover sex scene poses--then I found myself missing the big DECLARE. At one point, Drover's mystical black fella brother-in-law says something like, "I bet you haven't even told her you love her." OK, that was true. But do we get the big humbled hero declaration by curtain's close? Nope.

So while I was sticking it out for the surprising, gut-churning conclusion, I just never felt it. Too cartoony, whereas other Lurhmann films have turned the cartoon into art. Could be that he was making a love story to his country more than about two people, or even about a make-shift family, but even that came across as too cliched to elicit emotion. Too bad, because I've been on such an Aussie kick lately...

Promo Goodies

First thing this morning, I have a few promo items to share. The first is an interview I did with the Historical Novel Club about WHAT A SCOUNDREL WANTS, and then another interview with The Romance Reader. All good stuff.

Next up, here's the shiny chrome-plated awesomeness of THROUGH THE GARDEN GATE.

It's the upcoming print anthology from The Wild Rose Press featuring "Sundial," my time travel novella set in 1958 Italy, and the three other "Through the Garden Gate" contest winners: "Isabelle and the Outlaw" by Loretta C. Rogers, set in 1870 Yuma; "Fairytale Bride" by Michelle Chambers, set in the Regency; and "Victory's Gate" by Leanne Tyler, set in the antebellum South.

I'm excited to get my hands on this because I've not read the other three winners' stories, and because it'll be "Sundial" in print. Happy! More details soon on when it'll be released and where you can get a copy.

The Month Ahead

T-Minus four weeks until spring break. The girls will be home for something like 85 days in April, so I'm planning accordingly. See, I'm at a serious stopping point. My proposals are all backed up, littering my agent's desk, poor thing. And we already have a project out on submission. So I have nothing to write. Nothing. It's a weird feeling.

Granted, I've volunteered to judge something like three different contests, and I'm coordinating one. And I could be working on the workshops we'll be delivering at Nationals. UH always requires maintenance, as does various record-keeping and housecleaning issues. But yeah, no real writing projects.

So I've decided to go for broke and just write something fun, just for me. It's a steampunk idea that goes a little like this:

A Hedy Lamarr heroine who actually looks like Grace Kelly,
A psycho/sexy hero, based on a certain Doctor,
And a sexy/psycho hero, based on a certain French Canadian dancer...
All set in an alternate late Victorian New York City.

It's called The Midnight Clock. Ilsa provided the title while we were in England.

But literally, that's all I have. I've not plotted, I've not brainstormed, and I'm mostly running on a few key visuals. Who knows what will come of it, but I feel like plowing into it at full speed, to see how much I can accomplish before the end of the school year, or before I get my next proper assignment. So yeah...rock on, word count meter! Let's do this thing!

Come Back to Me

I was happily watching sunny Austen and Shakespeare adaptations before accidentally watching bits of Atonement. Dammit.

Dearest Cecilia,

The story can resume, the one I had been planning on that evening walk. I can become, again, the man who once crossed the Surrey park at dusk, in my best suit, swaggering on the promise of life. The man who, with the clarity of passion, made love to you in the library. The story can resume. I will return--find you, love you, marry you...and live without shame.

Stewart v. Cramer

Jon Stewart is a national hero. This interview of CNBC's Jim Cramer is an utter slaughter. Below is part one of the unedited interview, followed by parts two (the most brutal) and three.

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Jim Cramer Interview Outtake Pt. 1

Happiness

I'm in love with the song "Happiness" by The Fray. It hit me this morning as I sat at a coffee shop. One minute I'm writing a dratted synopsis; the next, I'm wiping tears off my face. The individual metaphors are beautiful, such as the verse about the firecracker, but it's the final punch of assigning the pronoun "she" to happiness that hit me hard. Then suddenly it's about missing the happiness of one woman in particular. And the line, "Gone for now feels a lot like gone for good" is just rip-your-heart-out true. Gorgeous.

"Happiness" by The Fray (from my current fave, their new self-titled release)

Happiness was just outside my window.
I thought it'd cras, blowing eighty miles an hour.
But happiness is a little more like knocking
On your door--you just let it in.

Happiness feels a lot like sorrow.
Let it be--you can't make it come or go.
But you are gone, not for good but for now,
And gone for now feels a lot like gone for good.

Happiness is a firecracker sitting on my headboard.
Happiness was never mine to hold.
Careful child, light the fuse and get away,
Cause happiness throws a shower of sparks.

Happiness damn near destroys you,
Breaks your faith to pieces on the floor.
So you tell yourself, "That's enough for now,"
But happiness has a violent roar.

Happiness, it's like the old man told me:
"Look for it and you'll never find it all,
But let it go, live your life and leave it,
Then one day you'll wake up and she'll be home."

This is Terrible!

It's been almost 24 hours since the results show* from this week's SYTYCD AU aired, and no one's posted it anywhere. I got home from my Chicago North meeting, hoping I could watch it before bed, and still nothing. Tragedy!!!

But aren't Charlie and Penny lovely? Here's their waltz.

*I know the results, but that's just not the same!

Watchmen (2009)

Malin Akerman (Laurie Jupiter), Billy Crudup (Dr. Manhattan), Matthew Goode (Adrian Veidt), Jackie Earle Haley (Rorschach), Jeffrey Dean Morgan (The Comedian), and Patrick Wilson (Nite Owl II)

Directed by Zach Snyder (300)

From IMDB: When an ex-superhero is murdered, a vigilante named Rorschach begins an investigation into the murder, which begins to lead to a much more terrifying conclusion.

Up front, every reviewer seems obligated to make some pronouncement as to what connection he/she has to the 1985 graphic novel by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons. Keven bought it for me about ten years ago, and I quite enjoyed it. I must say that the cult fanboy frothing holds little appeal for me because it was never so very, very good that I lived off rumors of its eventual adaptation. In other words, it's not sacred to me in the way that, say, X-Men was.

However I enjoyed the story, particularly the analysis of intention, morality and injustice. Contrasted against Rorscahch's hard, uncompromising view of right and wrong, Adrian Veidt's mechanizations are the bedrock of the book, and no lack of a giant squid changed that here. The compromised ending actually worked for me, despite my teasing.

Does that bedrock moral dichotomy come across in the movie? Sure. To a point. The conceptual decisions made by Zach Snyder and his team, however, diluted what should've been a very powerful finale. The painfully obvious musical montage selections, the utterly corny fight scenes that looked extremely outdated some ten years after The Matrix, and the ridiculous interpersonal dramas--made no less tolerable by some patchy acting--left me feeling as if the central emotional punch of this very high-minded morality tale got left on the cutting room floor.

I'd give Keven's theory that it was intended to be tongue-in-cheek some merit if the entire production hadn't tried so hard to seem cool--cool CGI, cool stunts, cool hair, cool violence, cool blue penises. It was the "trying too hard" factor that eventually did me in. And as my friend Karen pointed out, when was the last time you saw a comic book movie that actually amped up the sex and violence over the source material? The answer is never. Trying too hard.

That said, two performances stood out: Jackie Earle Haley as Rorschach and Jeffrey Dean Morgan as The Comedian. Haley's unmasked prison-bound Rorschach, in particular, was the highlight of the film, and Morgan's neurotic, nihilistic turn as The Comedian was the central riff against which Veidt's and Rorschach's divergent takes on morality were contrasted. These two made the rest of the cast seem amateurish and plodding, except for the occasional sense of slithering androgyny from Goode's very Duran Duran portrayal of Veidt.

It's taken me two days to determine that I just didn't like it very much, which was just about the length of time it took me to come to the same conclusion about 300. It suffered the same problem as 300, in that style over substance makes for some pretty thin emotional connections between me and the characters. In the end, I just didn't care.

Sting-alike

Is it me, or does Danny O'Donoghue of The Script sound like young Sting?

More About Ilsa

Wonder if she showed her pre-K teachers this one.

Computer!

My new computer arrived at about 10am. It's now 10:30pm and I've finally configured the thing exactly as I want. Some programs deleted. Some programs added. Back-ups restored. Pretty graphics applied liberally. It's bright, shiny, small, fast, and super hi res. All is well, which means I can return to work tomorrow. Ooooooh! So, so, so happy!

Pipe Wrench Fight

According to the FedEx website, my computer's on its way as we speak. Which means I'll get little done, writing wise, once it arrives. Unpacking. Setting up. Wrestling with cables. Etc. Yay!

Meanwhile, I'm sharing this. We saw it a couple months ago, but it's been making the rounds again. Still cracks me up. Maybe I need the t-shirt.

A Tale of Two Ilsas

In Kenosha, Wisconsin, population roughly 90,000, at the downtown branch of the YMCA, in Ilsa's Wednesday 5:15 swim class for 3-5 year-olds taught by Mr. Josh, class size of only six students...there is another Ilsa.

Mind you, Ilsa is a very rare name in the US. It's never been on the Social Security registry for Top 1000 girls' names. Ever. That's just weird. But it does remind me of "Proper Dave" and "Other Dave" in Doctor Who's library two-parter, because my girl is Ilsa and the new girl is "no, the Other Ilsa."

Needless to say, Ilsa (mine) finds this hilarious, like she's discovered some alternate reality.

Sometimes My Brain Works

When I was working on my WIP, which is set in 1882, I wrote the following sentence off-the-cuff: "Like the majority of the British Empire, Cape Colony hadn't permitted slavery in nearly fifty years."

I circled the sentence during revisions so as to check my facts and make it all peachy. Turns out Cape Colony was, indeed, included among British territorial holdings that officially abolished slavery in 1834.

Good on me! *pats own back*

Flitting Like a Butterfly

Happy birthday, Karen!! You old lady, you!

I was in a bit of a funk yesterday for reasons I'll never be able to explain to anyone, but now I'm mostly back. Yay! I think.

My foot hurts. *grumble* And they're delivering my new computer by pack mule. *double grumble*

Today, I'm over at Kris Kennedy's new collaborative blog called Mama Writers. Come read what nonsense I discuss. I think there's disco dancing involved. In fact, I'm sure of it.

Otherwise, I get a haircut today. Finally! I missed my scheduled appointment when it was going to be on the same day as my February surgery. I'm growing it out, though, so I don't know how much will come off. I look like Animal.

Which means it's time for "Danny Boy," of course.

Etta

In September of last year, I began writing an historical fiction story based on the life of Etta Place, the Sundance Kid's lover. Luckily I got a bit bored with the thing and decided it really wasn't my sort of story, because this would've seriously pissed me off. Although mine would've been better. Sure.

I Love Them

RT Mention

Tis surprising to find one's name randomly mentioned in a magazine, in this case Romantic Times BOOKReviews.