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And Happy Canada Day to my readers in the Great White North (Hi, Tiff!)!
I am enjoying my first of July tremendously. The weather broke here in Washington, so we’re getting some lovely warm (but not sweltering) sunny days with nice cool breezes. Rio’s been living out on the back porch, which is a major shift from her spot of the last two weeks, poised directly over the air conditioning vents in our living room floor. Sometimes i think Rio missed her calling. She should have been a country dog who could lie all day on the porch and watch the world go by. She loves just hanging out outside. Sniffing the breeze, snapping at bumblebees, flopping her tail around hopefully whenever she hears the kids next door making noises.
The other day I took her down to the park so she could play in the creek. If there’s one thing Rio loves more in this world than peanut butter, it’s chasing after balls — or anything really — thrown into the creek. She is very much a representative of her breed (Duck Tolling Retriever). Water and retrieving are her vocation and her passion. She actually pulls a tempter tantrum when playtime is over, complete with whining and stamping of her foot (we’re trying to train her out of that). So anyway, we met some friends down by the creek. When we arrived, one of our friends had lost a flip flop in the water, and it had floated out to a deep part and gotten caught in an eddie.
Well, we decided Rio was the best candidate to go get it for us. But poor Rio didn’t know what to get, and it didn’t help that the kids down at the creek were all shouting commands at her. She was treading water out there and swimming in circles, getting very confused as I kept trying to get her attention. It’s really tough to explain to children sometimes that dogs do best when there is one person giving them a command ONE time, rather than half a dozen kids crying her name. She kept swimming into the stream and grabbing at random sticks or just looking around in confusion.
One of the kids threw a stick so it landed right next to the flip flop and, relieved that she had an identifiable goal in mind, Rio beelined for it. Then, of course, she received the stick and totally ignored the flip flop. Oops. So I suggested we throw a rock or something that would sink next to the flip flop. But the flip flop’s owner, eleven years old, had an even better idea. She thought she’d pretend to throw the other flip flop.
Except… Rio’s no fool. She could plainly see that the flip flop was still in the girl’s hand, and she wasn’t about to be teased. So I took the second flip flop, pretended to throw it, then quickly hid it, all sleight-of-hand style. Off Rio went, and retrieved the lost flop! I felt like the owner of Lassie. All the kids were cheering, the girl’s mother gave Rio a cookie, and Rio could not for the life of her figure out why everyone was so impressed.
This didn’t stop her from enjoying her cookie.
Now of course, I have a new concern. Rio has never been a shoe-eater. Chapsticks, yes, especially if they are mentholated. In fact, I can’t even leave my purse on the floor or she’ll find my chapstick inside it. And don’t get me started on gum. (It’s really scary actually, since Xylitol is poisonous to dogs.) But she’s never even had a shoe in her mouth before this flip flop episode. I hope we haven’t set her down a dark path, especially given the way I leave my shoes all over the floor.
Rio’s got a big weekend ahead of her. We’re dogsitting her friend Cody, who is a golden doodle (shouldn’t they by rights be called golden roodles or goldenoodles?), and also, in a burst of doggie luck, her uncle Harry, my parents’ Old English, is coming to visit as well. She’ll be in heaven, I’m sure.
In non-doggie news, my garden is doing fabulously. I’ve picked about a pint of cherry tomatoes already, and I see abunch of the normal sized ones on the vines as well. I have several squashes growing, a few baby zucchinis, and even a cucumber, though it’s very strange looking, mroe like a plum. I have a ton of little jalapenos, a mexibell pepper, and two giant poblanos. I have a small forest of basil, though my neighbor just came by with a bunch of basil for me that puts mine to shame, as well as some lovely long stalks of rosemary. The dough for my rosemary bread is rising on the counter as we speak. It smells phenomenal.
In actual writing news, I’m nearing the home stretch in my draft, and I got a first read on a large chunk that’s making me feel pretty good that I’m on the right track.
My plans for the weekend are pretty chill — my parents will be in town, and we’re going to do a big crab feast for the fourth. Mmmmm, crabs.
What are you up to this lovely summer day?
Yay, I found my camera cord! So now you can see what I’ve been up to recently.
A little of this:
And a lot of this:
Note the Kindle. I’m not head over heels in love with it, but it did come in handy when Sailor Boy, on the next beach chair over, said “I feel like reading Snow Crash,” and five seconds later I gave it to him. Now, of course, he wants this t-shirt.
We also went sailing, but not as much as I thought we were going to.
My mom’s in town this week, so I’ve been hanging out with her, and her awesome sheepdog, Harry. (Or Uncle Harry, as we refer to him to Rio, who is his niece if you do the familial math.) Rio and Harry are the approximately the same age, and they love playing with each other. They also love each other’s food, and we spent the first half of the week devising creative ways to keep them in their own kibble bowls, and the second half of the week giving up and letting them do what they wanted.
And, because we all deserve something spectacular this weekend, I present to you Mr Greg Wise (otherwise known as Willoughby and Mr Emma Thompson) reading The Letter from Persuasion. Be still my beating heart. (Sorry, can’t embed.)
Yes, Darkness is going very well. Why do you ask?
First off, the events.
I’ve got some exciting new events in store to celebrate the release of RAMPANT, including one in New York City! (I will keep you updated on my Manhattan appearance and release the details when details are, y’know, finalized.)
This weekend of course is the big Florida launch party. We’re finalizing the details now and it’s going to be so much fun! The entire catering menu is an homage to the Roman setting of RAMPANT. There’s going to be pizza and Italian bread and cheese and gelato and prosecco for the over-21-ers and Italian sodas for the underage…I’m super-excited.
And actually, my trip to Florida has me bouncing from top to bottom. Friday night’s the party, Saturday night my family is having a super special dinner in Tampa, and Sunday we’ll be attending a Bucs game. It’s going to be a whirlwind adventure!
I just need to figure out who is taking care of Rio and TempDog#4 while I’m away. I’m pretty sure I’ll have to split them up, which is too bad. I totally caught them making out earlier this evening. Rio, apparently, likes younger guys.
And then, as soon as I’m back, it’s off to St. Louis for the NINC Conference. the last time I was in St. Louis, there was a horrific blizzard, and the entire city shut down. I’m hoping for warmer weather and open restaurants. Fingers crossed. But I can’t wait! I’m roomming with my mentor, the fabulous Julie Leto, and I’m going to dinner with my agent, and I’m sitting on a panel with Sharon Shinn and Julie Kenner, and I’m moderating another with Ridley Pearson (!!!) And in between, I’m probably going to do some stock signings out and about in St. Louis.
In other news, my toe still hurts. No sandals for me this weekend. Sad face. I was all set for a pedicure with little unicorn heads on my toes, too. Possibly decapitated. Definitely fanged.
In other OTHER and FAR MORE INTERESTING news than Stuff About My Mangled Toe, we have more RAMPANT reviews, coming atcha (spoiler-free, too!):
Christy Finn at Finntastic raves:
That tension there kept me hooked (well, along with all the unicorn attacks that would come and the bloody mess that it would leave behind) all throughout the novel. I kept reading, hardly glancing up, hardly eating until I was twenty pages from the end. I needed to know: how would it end. I knew, even as I bought this book, that there would be another to come… now, I just hate that I have to wait until Fall 2010 to get my hands on it.
The characters in the book are incredibly diverse. Phil has an air of rebellion around her, a devil-may-care attitude, and yet she shows such love for her cousin Astrid, I just love her all around. At one point, your heart breaks for her. Cory, the ultra-focused unicorn hunter that was the first to arrive, comes off somewhat misunderstood. And Lilith, Astrid’ mother, who had told her of the existence of unicorns for years. At first, I was ambivalent towards her. But later… later, I strongly disliked her.
And Giovanni. (Slight swoon here). It’ll be fun to see how his role grows as the series progresses.
Perhaps where Diana shows her strength is not only in the prose that she writes. It’s fluid. There’s a strong Voice in the work. The descriptions are vivid, elaborate at times. If you’ve read her other work, none of this will be a surprise.
But the details! The history! The richness! The retelling, recreating of worlds and histories. The revelations that come, little by little, and never at a rush… great timing, excellent pacing, but extraordinary details.
LyraRoses says:
5 out of 5 stars...
The imagery that is used wraps you up in how Astrid feels, as you follow her through her decisions. She is a great role model for girls. As she is strong willed and has as true sense of honor. You understand the why behind all her decisions. I love her relationship with her cousin, Phil. They make a great team. I really enjoyed it and hope that there will be another story where we see what happens to the characters later on.
And Kate at Read this Book! wrote:
Wow! I could not put down this book and despite the fact that I was rather unwell when I read it. From the first chapter, you’d be enchanted by the world of killer unicorns. Rampant possesses a nice mixture of romance, action and adventure. Detailed gruesome battles, heart-pounding action, vivid descriptions of unicorns and fantastic dialogue. It’s no question that Diana Peterfreund is an amazingly talented writer.
So there you have it. ‘Cause I know the only reasons you guys come here is to read Rampant reviews, right?
Kidding.You’re probably bored to tears and wonder when I’m gonna post another photo of Rio. But the thing is, Rio is deathly afraid of books for some reason (ahem, shoemaker’s kids go barefoot, I’m guessing), and she refuses to pose with Rampant. And until she does, I’ve instituted a moratorium on her modeling days. Adolescent rebellion my mangled toe!
Luckily, we’ve got a few stand-ins. This is Tiff’s cat. Hi, Tiff’s cat!
Tiff’s Cat is currently enjoying pride of place as the first cat ever featured here on my blog. I’m not so much a cat person, though I love my niece and nephew-cats, Hobbes and Hera.
And, naturally, I love any cat who loves Rampant. Tiff’s cat is hereby named an honorary member of the Order of the Lioness.
Wait, what was that, Rio? You’re jealous? Jealous enough to submit yourself to Mommy’s whims, perhaps?
Okay, you can be in the Order of the Lioness as well. There’s my little girl.
So yesterday was kind of a disaster. Nothing major went wrong, it was just small annoyance after small annoyance that added up to me not even having a chance to sit down at my work until around 5 PM.
SB had to leave the house super early to catch a train, and then the power went out for several hours, which made it impossible for me to charge my phone, computer, anything. Usually, that would be fine (after all, I can write on a piece of paper) but I had planned to do some editing yesterday, which required my computer and printer. Gah. To add insult to injury, TempDog2 has taken to crawling under the deck at every opportunity, which, given the storm yesterday, meant that she went from a white dog to a black dog in no time flat, then proceeded to shake all over every wall of my house. (I think i mentioned this yesterday.)
Later, I went to take the dogs for a walk, and TempDog2, bless her monstrously large soul, pulled me off my feet twice. The second time I went down hard in the mud and rocks and scraped myself up pretty badly. Suffice it to say, I was pretty frustrated with her by the time I got home. I pulled into the garage, opened up the door, and she bolted!
Directly for the busy street at the end of my block.
Rio, under the vastly mistaken impression this was all some kind of game, ran after her. I called them. Rio, bless her well-trained heart, stopped and trotted back to me, at which point I snatched her up and threw her over the fence into my backyard, because two loose dogs were way more than I could handle. Then I turned around to look for TempDog2.
Gone. Completely nowhere to be seen.
Cue half an hour of desperate searching, and a profound understanding of just how important recall is for a dog. TempDog2 is a lovely animal, and has a sweet personality, but is not trained. We’ve only had her two weeks, and in that time, she’s gotten down “No” “Leave it” “Kennel Up” and “Sit” — but recall and down are problems. In the house or the backyard, she’ll come, but apparently once she senses the call of the wild, she’s off like a shot.
Well, I finally cornered her in a backyard, and at this point, she’s not very high on my list of favorite people, so I marched her home and threw her directly into her crate w
hile we both cooled off for a bit (and some of that mud speckling her snowy white flanks dried and fell off. Rio looked at me like I was nuts and I repeated the mantra about what a rewarding experience fostering was, because right now — hoo boy.
Don’t they look cute and innocent? Lies, I tell you. All lies.
So I change my clothes and after about forty five minutes or so I look in TD2’s kennel to discover that her eye is cherry red and leaking pea-sized globs of green goop. Call the vet. Vet says I can come in but I’ll have to wait, since I don’t have an appointment.
Yesterday might have been the worst day to visit the vet’s office. I saw three animals being brought in to be put to sleep. THREE. I heard all their stories, I comforted the owners, I cried a lot. I’m really not going to tell you the gory details, but it was highly traumatic. All I wanted to do was go home and snuggle my Rio and thank God that she’s young and healthy.
Oh, and my phone died. In the middle of a conversation with my editor.
So there I am, no phone, hanging out in this horribly depressed waiting room with an increasingly nervous TempDog2 for like three hours. (on the plus side, we got a few training sessions in). But they finally see her and give me some antibiotics that I have to put in both her eyes three times a day for three weeks.
Did I mention that Rio has a 50% chance of getting the infection, too? Gah.
So then I trudge home at 5 PM, exhausted, still feeling a little muddy, and having done absolutely no work at all. And that was *my* day.
I hope today shapes up better. The one — well, I don’t want to say nice, since it’s depressing for her — thing about the infection is I have to limit her activity for a few days, which means it’s just going to be me and Rio on our walks for a bit. Rio is a joy to walk with. She’s the kind of dog that lives for tromping around the forest at my side, and whenever I walk with her, she just gives me this look of pure joy and affection.
Which is not to say that TD2 doesn’t enjoy walks. She’s just harder to walk with, since she’s not leash trained yet, and it makesthe walk both slower and shorter for all of us, since I stop every time TD2 starts pulling, and RIo can’t figure out what she’s doing wrong. I need to start looking into no-pull solutions, though.
Anyway, I’m going to get all glass is half full. It’s a gorgeous day, it’s a Friday, which means SB is going to be home all weekend and I’m going to go to Jeri Smith-Ready’s signing tomorrow, and TempDog2 is going to be FINE after her course of antibiotics, so, yay!
Anything you need to vent about? Anything cool happening that might cheer me up? Tell me in comments!
 This is Hayden. Also known as Bodie. Also known as who-knows-what someone once called him, or what his new parents will call him tomorrow when they come to pick him up.
Hayden came to us on May 23rd. He was quiet and nervous. We ate on the deck that night and he was worried about being close to us. He skulked away and slept in the grass. He refused to play with Rio, though she tried hard to get him to run around with her.
 Hayden sat on command, he gave us his paw. All he ever wanted was to roll over so we could rub his tummy. He would come when we clapped our hands, and when we put him in his crate that evening, he went in like a champion and settled down.
This is Hayden with his first toy — possibly his first toy ever.
The first few days we had him, he wouldn’t play with any toys (or eat any treats). Finally, he watched Rio playing with one of hers and figured out that the rope we kept giving him was his to do with what he wanted. He loves Rawhide bones, which he takes into his kennel so he can gnaw on them in peace.
A few days after we first got him, we got an email from a nice couple who had spotted him on PetFinder and couldn’t get him out of their minds. They had waited patiently for him to be transported form his rural shelter to our foster home in DC. Was he still available for adoption? Could they come to meet him?
When I heard that the adoption was going through, I started to cry. At the time, Hayden was on the couch, snoozing on Sailor Boy’s lap while SB and I watched Slings and Arrows. (Thanks for the rec, Tiff! We’re loving it!). The dog was in heaven, relaxing with people who took care of him, getting his belly rubbed.
I only hope that his new daddy lets him snuggle while watching TV, too.
Oh, and Rio fell in love with him. Night after night, she sneaks out of our bed, goes downstairs, and snuggles up to his kennel. They play together all the time in teh backyard, chasing and wrestling and drooling all over one another. They also like to cuddle. Here they are, cuddling nose to nose so I can give them double-barrelled belly rubs:
Good luck, TempDog! We’ll miss you!
Int. Chez Diana. Diana cleans furiously. Rio and TempDog look on, curiously. What is this “broom” thing? Why is Diana wielding it with such vehemence? They liked the doggie hair tumbleweeds that rolled across the hardwood. They were comfy and amusing.
Diana: I’m getting you both full body waxes.
Diana alternates cleaning with word sprints with Carrie. Dogs look on, disappointed.
Rio: Mommy, it’s so pretty outside. Let’s go play soccer! Put that white keyboard thingy away. Or at least throw it so I can fetch.
TempDog smacks keyboard. Keys fly off.
Ext. Beltway, Friday afternoon traffic [Prod. Note: If location unavailable, please substittue sixth circle of Hell.]. Diana pounds steering wheel in frustration. TempDog, crated in backseat, wonders where he’s going and why the little red one was left at home.
Phone rings. Is Sailor Boy.
Phone rings. Is Diana’s houseguest.
Phone rings. Is Diana’s best friend.
Phone rings. Is Sailor Boy again.
It starts pouring rain. During this time, Diana’s car moves approximately seven feet.
[Prod. Note: Would FX of Diana's head exploding be too expensive to film?]
Int. Vet’s Office. TempDog sits around looking adorable and chilll while every other dog in the place has a loud freak-out.
Vet: How could anyone abandon this guy? He’s a real sweetheart.
TempDog rolls over to get his tummy rubbed.
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(Quoth SB: “The quality of this picture can only partially convey the despondency she displayed upon finding me dressing for work this morning.”)
Mommy has been gone almost a week now. I have been getting intimately acquainted with the interior of my kennel. Is this the life of most dogs, left alone in their house all day to fend for themselves, nothing but a few peanut-butter-filled kongs and a nylabone or two for company?
Sure, my grandmother lets me out to run around and play at noon, and when Daddy comes home in the evening, he makes sure we have a lovely catch and lots of snuggly quality time, but it’s not the same. Where is Mommy? Where is this stupid Ireland place?
I swear, if I find out she’s been going on walks with the castle cats or playing around with the gorgeous blue-eyed grey dog that lives in the garden or feeding carrots (my favorite treat next to peanut butter!) to the castle’s old rescue donkey, or chasing the castle peacocks — well, hell hath no fury like a puppy not played with, I’ll tell you what.
Busy as a bee here Chez Diana. Gotta get ready for Ireland, send out a whole bunch of mailings that need tending to, do a heap of work, and spend some QT with husband and puppy. It does not help that Sailor Boy didn’t come home until 11 o’clock last night. Wah.
I know you are all curious about the state of Rio. She’s divine. The seroma is completely gone, and she’s back to her happy little puppy self. The incision is almost completely healed. If anything, I think she’s grown since I left. Her face looks very grown up these days. And boy did she like playing in the snow on Monday!
(Yes, this was the best picture. For most of them she’s not even in the frame. Sailor Boy told me she moved too fast. That’s my girl!)
So I spent the weekend doing proofs for Tap & Gown. It’s my last chance to read the book and because of the nature of proofs, I try to read straight through, in one sitting, so that if there are any repetitions of word they jump out at me. For instance, one should probably not employ the word “vamoose” more than once in a book, no matter how cool a word it is. (Fixed.)
And that’s when I realized that the Pop Culture Reference Curse has come back to bite me in the behind. The PCRC is something I first experienced when SSG was published. While writing the book, Britney Spears was a hot young pop star. By the time the book was published, she was enormously pregnant and famous mostly for living on Cheetos and walking around gas station restrooms barefoot. In the ensuing years, with a book on the shelves Britney Spears had another baby, a bad divorce, a nervous breakdown, a comeback — book’s still on the shelves, and depending when people read it, their impression of what I meant when I referenced Britney Spears changed a lot. This has been a source of aggravation for three years.
In Tap & Gown, I am dealing with two sticky pop culture references, thanks to the people they reference being ALL OVER THE NEWS recently, and NOT in a good way. One is kinda a spoiler — but confidentially to Christian Bale, it would help if you chilled out for a bit, yeah? — and the other one involves Joaquin Phoenix. Now, when I was writing the book, Joaquin Phoenix was most famous for playing Johnny Cash in Walk the Line, that quietly strong dude in The Village, and similar, off-kilter though curiously attractive types. The picture in most people’s heads looked like this:
Gee, what character in Tap & Gown might this dude resemble?
Now, however, the picture in most people’s heads is this one:
Le sigh.
Yeah, so… not really the idea I was going for. I think, given the nature of the reference (specifically discussing Walk the Line), I’m going to be okay, though I don’t know if I can drop his name without conjuring up the above image in everyone’s heads. Too bad, that.
Grrr…. from now on, only pop culture references about people who are dead. Like the one in Rampant about Roman Holiday. You’d never see Gregory Peck showing up in a beard.
Um, nevermind.
(In passing: dude, does he look like Hugh Jackman in this picture or what?)
I apologize for the lack of posting. Things have been absolutely insane around here.
First of all, I’ve been dealing with The Most Miserable Puppy in the World. It’s tough to tell if she was more miserable the first few days, when she was feeling crappy and looking crappier:
Or if it’s worse now, when she thinks she’s feeling better, and is completely bouncing off the wall at all times of the day and night because she’s not allowed to exercise for another few days.
Unfortunately, she has developed what the vet tells us is a reaction to the sutures. it looks like a large, egg-shaped lump underneath her skin where the incision is. We’re treating it a few times a day with warm compresses, which she’s actually tolerating pretty well, all things considered. It’s pretty much the only time she’ll lie still.
Today, I’m going to Florida. Yay! So excited! Haven’t been home in over a year. (Yes, I realize I should probably not call Florida home, as I actually own a home here in D.C., where, like, my husband is, and my stuff. But give me a break. It’s February and it snowed this weekend and wah. Florida!) I’m a little worried about leaving though, while Rio is still under the weather. Who will give her hot compresses?
And no sooner do I get back from Florida than it’s time to pack for Ireland and Castlemania. Castleocity. Castletation. I did go and buy some new clothes for that trip, since as one has gathered from the above, I’m really not a fan of being cold, and castles in Ireland in March are probably precisely that at all times. I really hope there are enough blankets on the beds.(Strange the things I worry about. I’m sure precisely no one else on the trip is worried about how well they’ll be able to cocoon, but as my husband, parents, and various college roommates could tell you, even in the height of summer, I like to bury myself under blankets to sleep.)
In general, I’m sick of the cold. I can haz summer now, plz? Okthnkbai!
All of this planning and dog care has been made more difficult by the fact that I’m in the midst of a couple different projects: I just turned in the proofs for my Mind-Rain essay, the proofs for Tap & Gown are due first thing next week, I’m finishing up that secret project I think I’ve mentioned a time or two, and, oh, yeah, the deadline for KU2 is galloping at me, horn lowered. All these projects are going well, it’s just that there are so many of them. I’m really used to being able to live in one world, in one project, from beginning to end. I’m learning multi-tasking right now. Fun stuff.
Did I mention how much I’m looking forward to Florida?
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