So, what is wild about me? Or my life? Not much, to be quite truthful.
Other than the fact that I live a second life on a pirate ship that sails the cyber seas. It was coming on two years ago when I stowed away on the Romance Writers Revenge. I’d picked up a postcard from this blog of scurvy ridden writing wenches in the promo room at the RWA convention in San Francisco and tucked it away.
I were always a bit pirate minded, and there be a pirate brandishing a cutlass on the card. Coolness! Took me some months ta actually go to the site and when I did, they were talking ‘bout writing topics I really weren’t familiar with. I were still pretty new ta the ‘rules.’
Though the idea of a group of pirate writers worried about rules was a bit surprising. I lurked fer quite a while, then finally, one day, they spoke about music and what you listen to as a writer for inspiration. And that was one thing I could get into. I commented, they welcomed me aboard and so I began to comment more and more. And with more and more welcome.
Until, one day, they invited me to join the crew. I’d already made meself pretty indispensible, setting up a bar on the deck and dispensing made up drinks to all. (This practice began one day when the topic strayed to the legendary glittery hooha spoken of by Jennifer Cruise. You know, the …ahem…that all the men absolutely have no resistance to? The girl they all want, all the time…with her irresistible glittery hooha.)
Anyway! I invented a drink. After all, it sounded like a drink to me. It’s pink, with a blush of red and I serve it with extra strength glitter. Which I collect from an errant pixie wench who visits the ship now and then.
Did I say any of this made sense?
At this point, I’ve been blogging regularly on Fridays, where I pontificate from the bar. I display my diploma from the Tortuga School of Bartending, tacked to the mast to the left of the bar. My handy blender sits to another side, where I am regularly fending off the kraken. (He tends to stick close to the ship, since we regularly throw our inner critics to him. Like all wild things, start to feed them and they tend to stick close from then on.) (He gets thirsty and likes the fruity drinks. I guess they go good with critics…hence I am shooing him away from the blender all the bloody time!)
Come by the ship some Friday. And see what I’m serving up. It’s bound to be very rumliscious. I’m partial to the stuff. And call me by me alter ego, 2nd Chance. How I came by that be a whole ‘nother story!