Good News from Bo’s Cafe!

I survived yesterday—I almost didn’t make it home, since the low roads are under water, random sections of the high road have sprouted orange barrels in a somewhat premature Ode to Spring, and the unofficial motto of our area has always been “You can’t get there from here.”*

But I did eventually find my way back, though I was so beat I completely forgot about the leftover birthday cake that I’d planned as a reward for making it through.**

Let me tell you, when I’m so out of it, I forget cake . . .

But some good things came from the pathos.  My friend has accepted my apologies for forgetting her birthday—whew! Many of you offered to take on the pain of next Monday for me—I accept, by the way. And our brilliant Downith added a two word comment to yesterday’s post that should keep me, uh, fundamentally balanced until I absolutely can’t put off a shopping trip to Ye Olde Torture Chamber the lingerie store.

But the real credit for breaking the Curse of Monday goes to Wayne E. Pollard, who sent me some wonderful news:

His webcomic, Bo’s Cafe Life, about which I’ve gushed here before, made Writer’s Digest’s 101 Best websites for writers!

If you’ve missed any of the previous gushing, Wayne’s brainchild is a deceptively simple comic that offers a sincere, sweet, cynical, painfully realistic and always hilarious look at the writing business and the business of writing.

There’s something for everyone, whether you’re a blogger (and ouch, Wayne, really):

A poet:

A writer of fiction (or just of a certain age):

Or . . . all of us:

I’ve accused Wayne of following me around more than once . . . But that’s only fair, since I plan to follow the Cafe gang for as long as he keeps posting.

Go look through the archives—and share a link to your favorite in the comments!
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*A couple of years ago, at the city-logo brainstorming session, someone suggested “A Great Place to get Lost.” It made the top five.

**So I planned to have it for breakfast—don’t judge me, it beats small cellophane baggies of fortune cookie crumbs from my purse—and forgot again.  I may be coming down with something . . .

Promises Promises

Have I mentioned before that my mother owns a couple of Curves Clubs?*

Mom’s a hands-on owner—the woman paints the walls and does her own maintenance on the machines—so I wasn’t surprised when she started taking instructor training workshops.

But I was completely floored when she told me she was teaching Zumba**—I don’t think I’ve ever seen her dance and rhythm has never really been her thing.***  It does seem to be going well, though, or at least Dad’s reported no injuries or lawsuits.

I’m very proud of her and would pay good money for video footage.^

So when my husband showed me a new webcomic he’d discovered, I knew I had to show Mom:^^

Promises Promises, by the talented and flat out funny Jules R. Faulkner, centers around an upscale women-only gym and spa and the trial and victories of the staff—Fiona, Trish, and Shanta—and their varied clientele, including the Baroness (aka Carmen Miranda up there), who is such an unrepentantly difficult client that she’s almost become one of the family.

It kicks ass, y’all.

While I can be militant against body-shaming, think the BMI is the greatest crock of crap since the Ex-Lax Diet, and fully believe that when it comes to fat and health, correlation does not equal causation,^^^ I’m all for true wellness in all its infinite forms and this comic delivers tips, tricks, encouragement, sympathy, and a lot  of humor without ever venturing near Thinner-Than-Thou territory.

I really appreciate that.

And I adore the Baroness’ style:

You know you’re in that line somewhere, my friends.  Let’s all aim for the fourth or fifth, okay?

If you’re a Facebook friend, you’ve seen me share a few as I went through the archives from the beginning.

It’s Monday, so you’re probably pulling a double shift, Mom, but check these out anyway—it’s work-related!
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*For those of you outside the franchise territories, these are women-only circuit gyms.

**Zumba is dance aerobics to music that makes it impossible not to move. Unless, of course, you’re me and have had years of practice not moving.

***Sorry, Mom. But I’ve seen you play Ping Pong. And I remember what you said about the music I liked to listen to when I was doing my homework.

^Seriously—if you’re on her staff or take her classes, I’ll make it worth your while. My contact info is in the corner up there.

^^Except I had to wait for two weeks because she was still on that cruise to Argentina, Brazil, and Uruguay. Yeah, I know.
^^^And someday I’ll share the whole story, but not yet and probably not here.

Bo’s Cartoon Life: or, why Wayne Pollard is now even MORE awesome

My morning routine on work days goes something like this: Get up, get sighted, get showered, get dry, get dressed, and fire up the laptop.

If I’ve done everything correctly the first time—without, say, dropping a contact into the sink* or discovering that all my clean laundry is still in the washing machine because I was writing far too late while listening to Apocalyptica far too loudly, and so didn’t hear the beeps and forgot—I’ll have time to go over the previous days’ work** and set a goal or two before I have to fetch the crowbar and pry the kids out of bed.

But the very first thing I do is check out  Wayne Pollard’s webcomic to see what Bo and his fellow novelists, poets, bloggers, screenwriters, and caffeine addicts are doing.

Drinking coffee (or tea, as long as it’s chai) is a given, and though writing is the goal, talking about writing is the clear preference. I’ve been reading Bo’s Cafe Life since the beginning, and I not only identify with these determined wannabes, I occasionally accuse Wayne of following me around for comic-fodder.***

One of the characters, Dingbang—who may be my favorite, though I’m not sure what he writes, exactly—runs a questionable answer feature,^ and Bo occasionally interviews Real Life™ people from agents to editors to publishers.

It’s funny, y’all, and simple and sarcastic and cutting and often far too insightful for comfort. I never miss it.

But yesterday, in place of the daily comic, I found something a little different:

I like it!

And I’ll bet you a virtual-venti chai latte you’ll like Bo’s Cafe Life.

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*My personal best is dropping both, consecutively, and only finding the first one. The second one fell down the household wormhole and is probably stuck to a lost sock in an N-space oubliette. That’s gratitude for you.

**  You know, after checking e-mail and blog comments and  my feed-reader and . . .

** Such as deleting and rewriting the entire flippin’ section.

***An accusation he has yet to deny, I’ve noticed.

^I know what I said.  Read ‘em and see.

Writing is . . . hitting the keyboard any way you can

I’ve been reading the archives of Jane’s World by the talented  Paige Braddock.

I’m so glad I’m not the only one . . .