Dita Parker

Friday, December 30, 2011

Raise your glass

New Year's Day: Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual.
~Mark Twain

All I've promised is to give away a $20 Ellora's Cave gift card on January first, so if you'd like a chance to win it, leave your email addy after the beep.

Have an absolutely fabulous 2012!


Thursday, December 22, 2011

Hope springs eternal

[If you're looking for the XXX-mas giveaway, it's in the previous post.]

Dearest denizens,

What a year 2011 has been! I don't know how 2012 can top the madness or the beauty, all I know is it will try.

I know I'm looking forward to it. I know I haven't been as out and about as I probably should have been, but awkwardly aware as I am of how useless I've been as a Romantica writer (thanks for the reminders, M, what are friends for), I've unconsciously okay consciously tried not to draw too much attention to just how desperately useless I've been. It's not as if I haven't tried. To succeed, I mean, not suck.

If I deserve it, an offer will come. In the meantime, I hope I manage to entertain at least some of you. I hope that whatever is hurting you passes. I hope that those who are alone still appreciate the break the holidays afford. I hope that wherever you are, your holiday spirit runs high. I hope that in the spirit of that spirit, unless your goal is to be the wealthiest body in the boneyard, you give as good as you get.

Be good, sweetie darlings. Have fun, be grateful, be kind.

Wishing you peace, joy, and peace of mind on this shortest day of the year, 

With love,

Friday, December 16, 2011

XXX-mas poll and giveaway

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas... I am, I am! The sun now rises way after nine and sets at three, what snow we've gotten has melted, and it has been the rainiest December in fifty years. [Last month was the warmest November in fifty years. We've been breaking weather records almost every season. A coincidence? I think not.] Dark and desolate? Definitely. So someone send some snow to lighten and brighten things up. Pronto. Please. But not as much as last year or the year before that. There is no need to exaggerate. We'd be quite content with the golden mean. Thanks.

The last seven days in seventy words: had a lovely wedding anniversary, Christmas shopping done, cards sent, menu set, deadlines met, saw three dudes pull off every Shakespeare play in two hours, the full moon was beau-ti-ful, oldest was really sick one day and fine the next, again, (seriously, the child is übermenschlich), youngest is up all night with growth pains, again, (that child will grow up to be ten feet tall), and my niece was born!

Now...now I think it's time to wrap up this year's Frisky Fridays. I haven't done polls or giveaways here at the Den, and you've been such good sports, visited and commented, so what do you say, dearest denizens, how about we send off 2011 with a bang and a whimper and do both?! They're not interlinked. You don't have to vote to enter. You can vote and skip the contest. Naughty or nice, every adult on the planet is eligible.

You'll find the simple XXX-mas poll question at the top of the right-hand column. If everyone's happy, my work here is done. If not, maybe some more Frisky Fridays are in order in 2012. Want an Ellora's Cave Romantica Publishing $20 gift card too/instead? Let me know by leaving a working email addy (working!, not stuffed to capacity, better luck next time) in comments, or by dropping me a line at ms[dot]ditaparker[at]gmail[dot]com (subject line: XXX-mas giveaway), and on January first, I'll let random.org decide and off shopping you go!

Okay! I think that's all for now. Spread the word. That gift card, if you hit the Vault, buys you up to twenty (20!) ebooks. Or would you prefer a Cavemen 2012 Calendar and some recent releases? You decide, I provide.

Ah, it is better to give than to receive. Which reminds me... But that's none of your business, sweetie darlings. Now shoo, go make someone happy, and yourself in the process. Oh, and if you know a really good shaman, ask for snow!!!

Friday, December 9, 2011

You will meet a tall blond stranger

Did I ever. 

I don't know why but I've always liked them more on the dark side. Not *that* dark side. Eyes, hair, complexion. Imagine my surprise when I found myself totally in lust and love with a blue-eyed blond with skin smooth and pale like marble. Is he the exception that proves the rule? He's exceptional, that's for sure. Best of all, he's all mine.

No Frisky Friday today, ladies and gents, which, as always, doesn't mean you shouldn't have one. I fully intend to practice what I preach. It's our wedding anniversary weekend, you see. Eleven years. Eleven years? Eleven years?! Wow. Time sure flies when you're having fun. And when it hasn't been fun, when we've been forced to be apart, when we've been more tired parents than husband and wife, we've still been friends and soul mates in every way that matters. And you don't leave your friends in times of need, yours, theirs, you carry each other.

We still want each other, a lot and quite often. We share a quirky sense of humor. We find the same things unfair, worth fighting for/against. We work in very different fields, and even if we don't understand all the ins and outs of what the other does, we still find it immensely interesting, like a window to a parallel universe. We don't agree on everything, we don't like all of the same things, but we listen to and respect one another.

All of the above have carried us for eleven years now, and I hope they carry us for eleven more and beyond. Because I love him more than any man I've ever known. Because I still wake up some mornings and stare at him, just stare at him while he sleeps, and think I must be dreaming.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

For country or for crowd

Temperature: 0/32

Eating: mixed nuts 

Drinking: glögg

Watching: The Nightmare Before Christmas later tonight

Listening: to the kids collaborating on a poster for I don't know what yet

Reading: Mankell's latest, Minnet av en smutsig ängel, in Swedish. It's gonna take like three years, but hey, anything for the sake of expanding one's vocabulary. (Forget Nordic Noir, give his other novels a try!)

Writing: trying to plot (plot!) a story I've been dying to dig into for a while

Feeling: Can you serve two masters? If you've succeeded, tell me how.

Monday, December 5, 2011

Happy 110th

I do not make films primarily for children. I make them for the child in all of us, whether we be six or sixty. Call the child "innocence". The worst of us is not without innocence, although buried deeply it might be. In my work I try to reach and speak to that innocence, showing it the fun and joy of living; showing it that laughter is healthy; showing it that the human species, although happily ridiculous at times, is still reaching for the stars.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

December will be magic again

I'm sorry for the radio silence, sweetie darlings. It's all good, promise! It means I've been hard at work. It means I hope to have good news to relate in the coming weeks. 

So much to wrap up before Jesus faces off with Santa, but I deny being stressed out. There is no need to panic. Not yet, anyway. I'm on schedule with deadlines, even the self-imposed ones, and I've got a Teflon suit to don if the sound and the fury of the pre-X-mas fuss starts feeling a bit too much.

Mad Men beware, we have read our Seuss at Casa Dita. "Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more." The kids have written Santa (and once again, he does not, I repeat, he does not live on the North Pole. At the Arctic Circle, okay?). They know Jesus put the Christ in Christmas. But what they're most excited about, what they anxiously wait for all fall, are the little things they remember doing last year, and the year before that, every year a bit more.

Tradition. The scourge of change and progress, and a source of comfort and continuity. Some traditions I've introduced, some come from Hubby's side. The best by far are the ones the whole family has had a hand in creating. New ones. Ours. Decades old or brand spanking new, traditions put the Christmas in my Christmas.

I will catch myself at the intersection of chronos and kairos, teaching something I remember being taught, having a meaningful conversation over a mundane task, hands hard at work, minds wide open. In the middle of giving instructions, telling a story, answering questions over the counter, I will look at my children, their faces glowing, cheeks full of cookie dough, hands breaded in flour, and see myself. In that instant, the past, present and future bleed into one. I'm a girl. I'm a woman. I'm an old dame. And everything makes such perfect sense.

P.S. Thanks for all the best wishes I've received during the year, Special Mention: chain letters promising fortune and fame. Alas, they didn't work. Maybe I jinxed them. Never passed them on. We'll never know. But. I've devised the perfect plan to ensure next year is glitch-free. Next year, just send me a check, some bourbon and bonbons, a Marlies Dekkers gift card, or an extra hour to my day. Or make a donation to your favorite charity. Support your favorite authors, buy their books! Get some for your friends, too!! Much appreciated!!! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go have lunch.