Jennifer Crusie's Blog: Argh Ink

Thanksgiving was lovely this year. I’m slammed on the book–almost done, almost done–so I stayed home with Lani and the kids and we made a huge meal that the kids decided to reject in favor of cold cuts–ARGH–but it was delicious. And we had such a good time. Hoping you all did, too.

I started the gravy on Tuesday, making turkey stock. I make fabulous gravy. Only this time I’m all wrapped up in Always Kiss Me Goodnight You Again, and I went into the bedroom and wrote 3000 words, and when I came out, I’d reduced my turkey stock down a little too far. Not burned, though, which is all that matters. Thank god for chicken stock in boxes. Then I roasted turkey wings on Wednesday night to get the pan drippings since we were experimenting with the turkey and there is no guarantee of drippings and made the gravy. It was fabulous. God bless the guy who wrote Thanksgiving 101. His gravy recipe never fails. Also Lani makes killer mashed potatoes, so clearly this is a living arrangement made in holiday heaven.

You know what’s driving me crazy right now? Lousy English in songs I love. Like “You and I, Part II.” The line is “The phantoms come out of the night for you and I.” No, they don’t, they come out for you and me because “for” is a preposition which takes the objective case. I’d say Lindsey Buckingham should know better, but he’s never looked like a detail person to me. The one who really let me down is Chrissie Hynde. “If love was a war, it’s you who has won.” I mean, WTF? It’s a great, great song, but that glitch is like a needle screeching across a record. You people are rich. Get a freaking copy editor.

I do my shopping online, so when Huff Post did the Worst Toys Ever, I had to look. The Tongue Pops are bad, as is the How To Cut Up A Fish action pack, and you have to check out the Talking Elmo doll that threatens to kill your kid by name, but the number one toy in my book will always be the Tarzan doll, by way of Fail Blog. (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/11/27/15-toys-not-to-buy-your-k_n_351369.html?slidenumber=VgO%2FMOx%2FiCE%3D) He’s just so . . . enthusiastic.

The links aren’t working on this post for some reason. Hence the URLs in parentheses. No idea what’s up with that.

Light was getting on everybody’s nerves the other day, and then she decided she needed a pencil and whined to her mother to get her one. Lani was on her last nerve, but she got her one. Light said, “Not that one, that one is glittery and it scratches my hand!” Lani said, “It doesn’t have to go in your hand.” I got Light another pencil. Some days, you just have to step up and save a kid.

Of course, it works both ways. I put the monthly flea stuff on the dogs the other day and Lani warned the kids not to pet them for twenty-four hours. So we’re at dinner that night and suddenly Sweetness shrieks, “Wolfie touched my foot! What’s going to happen to me?” And I said, calmly, “You’re gonna die.” Sweetness froze and her mother said, “Fake Aunt Jenny is kidding. Aren’t you, Fake Aunt Jenny?” I said, “Yep.” I appreciate the drama princess bit since the kid is living with two drama queens, but not at dinner.

I got the kids Littlest Pet Shop Monopoly for Christmas and I can’t wait to open it. You know, to check to make sure all the pieces are there. Their favorite game right now is Clue, and then Lani said, “Wouldn’t LPS Clue be wonderful?” and I said, “The Yellow Puppy in the Library with the Wrench,” and we both cracked up. And then we thought about it. All we’d have to do is change the suspect cards. If the kids will let go of their Tiniest LPS’s which they don’t like anyway, I think I can make it work. Homicidal geckos in the conservatory. Gotta love it. If it works, I’m putting it in a Liz book. Because I can.

Lyle is part goat. So far this week he’s eaten turkey bones (Milton got them for him while he was counter surfing; he leaps from the back of the LaZBoy across open air and onto a slippery granite counter, the dumbass), a wood pencil, a huge piece of turkey skin I dropped which was gone in an instant, my best glasses (just the chewy parts on the ends) and a tea light in a metal cup. When Krissie was here, he went missing for four hours and Lani finally found him in the elevator shaft stretched out with his head stuck in a Goldfish bag. She thought he was dead but as soon as she pulled the bag off, he leaped up again. Those things are lined with foil so we figure he got his head stuck and then while he was trying to get it off, staggered to the top of the stairs and rolled all the way down to the first floor (he’s too little to go down the stairs on his own yet), then continued to stagger into the elevator shaft where he finally gave up. Although as Lani pointed out, the inside of that Goldfish bag was licked clean, so he ate before he collapsed. Then last night I was working in the office and here comes Lyle with his head stuck in a Donettes bag. The good news is, it was much bigger so he wasn’t suffocating and there’s a plastic window on those, so he had some view, although it didn’t stop him from running into my office chair. I took the bag off and said, “Lyle, you are dumb as dirt,” and he wagged his tail and went to find something else to shorten his life.

The kids were playing Dog Island on the Wii, and evidently there is a lot of death on Dog Island, because one of them said, “My dog’s brother is missing, and he’s very sick!” I was working, so I said, “Good luck with that,” and kept typing while they shrieked, “Jenny!” It was a real Scooter moment; I don’t think Sweetness has forgiven me yet. Next time, I’ll grab two balloons and give them to her and then go back to my book. (http://www.arghink.com/2009/10/31/saving-scooter/)

This Tiger Woods thing has me in quandary. On the one hand, I deplore domestic violence and think any aspect of it, committed by male or female, should result in arrest. No excuses ever for hitting somebody. On the other hand, as a woman who has had her share of lying cheating bastards and comforted many of her friends over their lying, cheating bastards, if he really was seeing another woman, my instinct would be to pick up the club, hand it to her, and say, “It doesn’t have to go in his hand.” I know that’s wrong, but that’s where my heart lies.

Thanksgiving isn’t over until you look at the leftovers and think, “Never again.” It ended for us right before noon today. We’re having ham for Christmas. Light was upset–”But I want turkey!”–until Lani pointed out that she hadn’t eaten any of the turkey. Evidently it was just the fact of the turkey she wanted. Big golden bird = Holiday. She’s getting ham.

I can see the end on Always Kiss Me Goodnight You Again. Of course, “the end” means the end of the truck draft, I’ll still have Jen’s edit which is always illuminating and a bunch of run throughs to make sure all the characters get their arcs and then one edit where I just cut everything I can, but the idea that a truck draft is in sight?

All I want for Christmas is a finished book. What’s on your wish list?