Dita Parker

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Breathed upon

"A little less conversation, a little more action, please. All this aggravation ain't satisfactioning me."

Where have I been? Each and every one of the two of you must have been beside yourselves with worry, n'est-ce pas? Tsk. Lemme tell ya. 

Playing the waiting game, always the hardest part. 
Acting the part, i.e. doing what writers are supposed to do, i.e. writing. 
Looking the part, studying and practicing the excruciating art of plotting (excruciating for me, not for you probably, you're smart, aren't you sweetie darlings, not creatures of instinct and intuition like...some people I know. They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but they, whoever the hell they are, say a lot of other stupid things this bitch has never bought so wuff, dawgs, just see if I don't).
Feeding the soul. On the menu: photography, art, illustration, fiction and non-fiction, the music of Gotye and Mirel Wagner.
Enjoying the spring light, a natural high. So energizing it just makes me want to throw my arms around the world. And, the world being what it is, that is nothing short of amazing, but spring light will do that to you. Ooh, I feel another song coming my way. "I'd like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony. If you're inclined to disagree, sod off and leave me be."

That's my last two weeks in a nutty shell. Believe you me, revamping thoughts and ideas, purging the soul and inviting inspiration works wonders for creativity and productivity. At least it works for me. The tree may look barren after a long harsh winter, but the sprouts look lush and promising.

Photo credit

Saturday, March 17, 2012


Here's to a long life and a merry one
A quick death and an easy one
A bonny boy and an honest one
A cold beer and another one!

Happy St. Patrick's, sweetie darlings! Behave.

Sunday, March 11, 2012


It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
― Maya Angelou, Phenomenal Woman: Four Poems Celebrating Women

Saturday, March 10, 2012


“What would men be without women? Scarce, sir...mighty scarce.”
― Mark Twain

Friday, March 9, 2012


“A feminist is anyone who recognizes the equality and full humanity of women and men.”
― Gloria Steinem

Thursday, March 8, 2012


"This view that women are somehow inferior to men is not restricted to one religion or belief. Women are prevented from playing a full and equal role in many faiths. Nor, tragically, does its influence stop at the walls of the church, mosque, synagogue or temple. This discrimination, unjustifiably attributed to a Higher Authority, has provided a reason or excuse for the deprivation of women's equal rights across the world for centuries. At its most repugnant, the belief that women must be subjugated to the wishes of men excuses slavery, violence, forced prostitution, genital mutilation and national laws that omit rape as a crime. But it also costs many millions of girls and women control over their own bodies and lives, and continues to deny them fair access to education, health, employment and influence within their own communities.... The truth is that male religious leaders have had -- and still have -- an option to interpret holy teachings either to exalt or subjugate women. They have, for their own selfish ends, overwhelmingly chosen the latter."
― Jimmy Carter, Losing My Religion for Equality

Wednesday, March 7, 2012


“A girl should be two things: who and what she wants.”
― Coco Chanel

Tuesday, March 6, 2012


“What’s the worst possible thing you can call a woman? Don’t hold back, now. You’re probably thinking of words like slut, whore, bitch, cunt (I told you not to hold back!), skank. Okay, now, what are the worst things you can call a guy? Fag, girl, bitch, pussy. I’ve even heard the term “mangina.” Notice anything? The worst thing you can call a girl is a girl. The worst thing you can call a guy is a girl. Being a woman is the ultimate insult. Now tell me that’s not royally fucked up.”
― Jessica Valenti, Full Frontal Feminism: A Young Woman's Guide to Why Feminism Matters

Monday, March 5, 2012


“For most of history, Anonymous was a woman.”
― Virginia Woolf

Thursday, March 1, 2012

March on

March! Welcome!! Don't just stand there, come in, settle in, please!!! What's your poison? As lovely as a real winter, a white one, has been (minus the snow removal, the toil of Sisyphus, Sisyphus!, oh March, deliver me) my mind has been reaching for spring for a while now. My feet and hips, too. They've come to the consensus it's time. It's all carnival's fault, listening to the rhythms, looking at pictures my baby sis posts, doing the samba no pé amid daily chores. There's a drastic discrepancy between inner and outer scenery.

Incidentally, or not, I've been writing very disparate things, fluctuating between genres and languages and moods, and it hasn't even been that hard a task. Actually, it's been exhilarating; as it usually is when you find balance and things come together as you wish they would. Or maybe I just had some pent-up writing oomph to release after last week's winter break, the kids at home, lots of wintry outdoorsy activities going on (e.g. aforementioned Sisyphean snow removal) and not enough time to write all I wanted and needed to put down in words.

Well, as the Beatles used to sing, words are now flowing out like endless rain, and as any writer knows and will tell you, that's a happy place to be. I bet I just jinxed it by saying it out loud, but the Universe will have to get really creative to wipe out the wonder that was yesterday, a particularly productive day. Today wasn't half bad, either. I'm sorry to say not all that got written will end up in Dita's books but happy to report a considerable proportion of it will, so I hope D is happy and forgives me for last week's snub. She sure got vocal about it. The drama queen.

Publish or perish, they say in academia. What do they know? What I do know is that I've had a terrific writing week, I felt violently happy while at it, and whether or not those words get published, I'll keep at it. Dita got one thing right. I do need her. The world probably doesn't need another Romantica writer, but the world is welcome to try to stop me from writing erotic romance. It may drive home the message and never let another Parker book see the light of day. Then again, spring light and I may surprise said wicked world. I hope to be happily surprised real soon. I hope to happily surprise you soon after that. And if aforesaid world decides to give me lemons instead, I'll take it as Scandinavians take their tequila, their trials and their tribulations: stomp on the lemon, throw the salt over my shoulder and drink the glass to the bottom and shout, "Thank you, sir, may I have another." Because really, what the hell else can you do?