Jennifer Crusie's Blog: Argh Ink

I have a new grandchild, born at 11AM today (Monday the 14th). He was due on 11/11/11 but, like his grandmother, is a late arriver. I would tell you his name, but nobody on earth has this name, which means you could google for him and there goes anonymity, so instead I will call him by the name his three-year-old sister suggested when she learned there was a baby brother on the way: Dinosaur Pants. I like it. It has a ring to it. And as Lani says, the nickname is a natural: “Yo, Dino!”

But he’s very cute and he’s very healthy and we’re all very happy. Welcome, Dinosaur Pants!

JC: Welcome, Anne Stuart!

Full Disclosure: Anne Stuart, aka Krissie, and I have been close friends for many years and, with Lani Diane Rich, are now the Three Goddesses, maintaining spiritual retreats in Vermont (Squalor Holler), Ohio (Squalor on the River), and New Jersey (Squalor on the Lake) where we gather to discuss fiction, fabric, yarn, movies, dogs, and what we should eat next. Therefore I’m hopelessly biased in her favor. On the other hand, she is a living legend.

JC: So you’re issuing a brand new ICE book, On Thin Ice, on Amazon. Tell me about that.

AS: I had a book I was desperate to write. read more >>

Steve Jobs died today. I’ve been pretty blatant about my passion for all things Mac. It started with my first Mac, a MacPlus back in the mid-eighties, the first machine I ever drew on, and continued with the laptops that made writing stories possible for me. I didn’t write fiction until I found the Mac, and now I can’t imagine writing on anything but a Mac. The iPhone was the first phone that made sense to me. The iPad freed me from finding an internet connection on the road. Steve Jobs and his design team have informed and enhanced my professional life for twenty-five years. I usually don’t care deeply when a public figure dies aside from a general human regret, but Jobs’s death is different. Something exciting is gone from the world today. He made the world a better place because of the way he made things. His insistance on excellence made excellence a benchmark. In today’s world, that’s pretty remarkable. read more >>

Today we’re thrilled, thrilled I tell you, to invite to Argh Ink the hardest working woman in romance, Sarah Wendell, possibly the only person who knows absolutely everybody in the business well enough to call them “Honey.” She speaks, she blogs, she films, and she writes books. Her first book, written with her blog partner, Candy Tan, was Beyond Heaving Bosums, the Smart Bitches’ Guide to Romance Novels, and it was a huge success, so it’s not surprising that she’s back again, this time writing solo with Everything I Know About Love I Learned From Romance Novels, in stores NOW. read more >>

So I checked the Argh comments and answered them, went back to the dashboard to check links, and saw that Mary Stella had just posted the St. Anthony chant. Cute. Then suddenly the dogs wanted out, so I took them out onto the terrace and thought, Okay, retrace your steps one more time. Nothing. So I walked around the edge of the terrace where I have not been since last spring and there it was, leaning against one of chaises on the river side. It sat out there through a rainfall and a snowfall, but it’s waterproof nylon and everything is fine. I just don’t know how the HELL it got there unless St. Anthony dropped it off from the other dimension it had fallen into. So now I stand in awe of St. Anthony and Mary Stella and Argh Nation in general. Thank you all very much.

Must go light a candle to St. Anthony now.

Edited to add:
Since people want details . . .

I traced my steps by crossing the terrace from the house to the gate:

Then I turned around and came back to the terrace from the gate:

And I looked at the chairs:

And then I went around the outside of the terrace:

See. NOT EASY TO FIND.
And yes, I know the flagstone needs weeding. One thing at a time.