I wanted to title this post “When it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” Then, I wondered what it meant to be “cracked up.” Yes, I looked it up on the internet. (Ah, World Wide Web, how I love you.)
Apparently, the verb crack can mean to boast about something. So, perhaps I boasted about how wonderful the Carnival ball would be in one of my last posts. Well, it wasn’t what it was cracked up to be.
First, I loved the company and the dinner before. Plus, y’all, men in white tie and tails are hot, and I’m not talking temperature. It’s a good look.
Now, on to the ball itself. I didn’t grow up in New Orleans. I’m not all about tradition. I’m not all crazy about pageantry. So, the parade of men in elaborate costumes with full face masks followed by young ladies in white dresses always gives me the willies. Yes, the king has a great costume. The queen’s dress and train are stunningly amazing with crystals that glitter, ermine (real or fake), and velvet. Whew! It’s a thang to see.
Yet, I didn’t feel any romance in the room. I didn’t get the excitement. I have to be missing something, but maybe I’ll never get it. I will go again next year with a pretty dress, a husband dressed as finely as possible, and maybe another couple or two to share the affair. I just won’t crack on it.
This year, I look forward to three releases: Basically Bad, Behaving Badly, and Risque Poses.
There’s no telling how many more I’ll pen, but for sure, the stories won’t stop.
May you and yours have as good of a year as possible.
If you want more information about Mary or the workshop, this link will provide that. I’m going to attend, because the last time I took a class with Mary at the helm I learned a ton of information and gained skills that I continue to use in my writing. Please consider joining SOLA and its members at this day long workshop (lunch included) in October. Mary’s workshop is suitable for writers of all genres.
Tons of great blog posts for Six Sentence Sunday. Here is mine. (If you tweet, use the hashtag #sixsunday.)
Everything about Diana caused his body to feel like a mouse on speed. His words wanted to rush out. His heart thought that the faster it pumped blood the better he’d be at talking to the woman. His eyes never wanted to focus on one spot. They liked the lean body that she clothed in skin-tight tank tops and pants, and they attempted to stare at every part. His brain had made great use of those images, but he needed to give attention to her eyes, large, brown, and brimming with emotion.
I’m a guest today, and the contest runs until the 22nd. Take a look. Leave a comment. Check out all the other great giveaways during the whole month of July.