I JUST AUDITIONED FOR A STARRING ROLE!

I'm very excited. I'll post my audition picture soon to show you how tough I can be. The role will be very demanding. I have been cast (theme music from Jaws here) to play ... the fearsome shark! My victims are being lined up even as I write this. This is a wonderful project and I'm thrilled to be part of it.

Sometimes people are funny

My human just had her birthday. Can you imagine it? She is just one year older? Soon I will be older than she is and I'm already much more mature and wise.

Her man (who thinks he is the alpha-dog in the home, and I humor him) ordered her a Kindle for a gift. You'd have thought he gave her a truckload of dog biscuits. Get a grip, woman.

Anyway, the Kindle is something she can put all her books on, apparently. And, just because it was funny, a Kandle was also ordered. The Kandle, as you have probably already grasped, is a light that attaches to the Kindle. The Kandle arrived yesterday. This morning, she told him her Kindle would be arriving soon to go with her Kandle. And he said, "So you're waiting for your Kandle-holder." Okay, maybe you had to be there. And I was. Under the table. I hear so many juicy tidbits there, and wait to eat more.

If it's your birthday today, happy birthday. I wish six more years added onto it for you, as I'm sure you do, also.

Gotta go. She's racing for the front door muttering, "It's here!" and I must go make sure she's safe.

Coco the amazing bed and breakfast dog

One of my admirers, Kathleen, who I have met and who (of course) fell madly in love with me and my cuteness (she's kinda cute, herself), introduced me to Coco, another dog witg a blog, and I want to share it with you. Coco sounds like my kinda dog.

Check out Coco, a Bichon Frise who writes about living in a bed and breakfast in Washington. The inn's site is http://www.innatroosterhill.com/ and Coco's blog is at http://wherescoco.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-weight.html . I want to meet this amazing Coco!

And I'd like to meet you, too, because I suspect you are cute, too. I have a feeling about people, you know, and I have already sniffed your hand. Trust me. My cuteness would never lie.

I know a secret!

Do you find it interesting that people will talk about just about anything -- even a big secret -- and not think that perhaps the smartest animal in the room is sitting right there?

So it's true. I know a secret. A big one. A new series has been asked for and I've been working overtime to give poor overworked Heather some inspiration for awesome titles (they're the only kind I like).

But she begged me not to reveal the entire secret, and I just can't resist those big brown eyes, so I will keep it secret. For now.

But stay tuned. There are big changes coming.

Great new title!

It's true. I have done it yet again.

My coauthor was told she probably wouldn't be able to use her title "Bat Out of Heck" and so she's been trying to come up with a new one. And I've been trying to give it to her, only her mind has been so distracted by her son moving to Pennsylvania that she hasn't been listening. But (finally!) I got through! I looked exceedingly cute, she picked me up, and I got close enough o use my superior mind control technique. (I always use my powers for good, of course.)

She loved it! So now the romantic comedy about a NASCAR driver and a woman with a lot of speeding tickets is titled Head Over Wheels. Good for a smile, right?

How do I come up with such good titles? It's not easy. I don't settle for just any old thing. I may walk low to the ground, but my expectations are very high, and a title has to stand tall to meet them. The secret is to sniff a title -- a great one smells delicious.

Great titles are so much fun, whether they're movie titles or book titles. I love titles that give the scent of the entire movie or book.

Holes ... Star Wars ... Groundhog Day ... Murder Boogies With Elvis ... Free Agency--And How to Enforce It (yes, that is another one of mine)

I'm thinking of teaching classes about it, but where would I hide such a big pile of biscuits? Maybe in the shed ...

Playmates Who Leave

I miss my buddy. He's going to Pennsylvania for two years, and that means two years that he won't be playing with me, pouncing next to me, pretending to be a puppy. I haven't even felt like writing the last few days.

Why do life things have to be so hard? Why do my playmates keep leaving? First Buford -- the best dog friend a little guy could have -- and my puppy buddy.

Maybe I'll write tomorrow. Today I just feel like snuggling up to somebody who is still here and reassuring myself that they're not leaving, too.

The Plot Thickens

I'm back. My coauthor is taking a nap because her son just left yesterday for two years and she's been crying. So this is my chance to get on the computer and write.

I've been thinking about plots lately. Lots and lots of plots. Why? Because I've gotten so good at making good plots, natch.

I want to share a story about an art teacher (who must have had a cute little dog feeding him inspiration) who decided to try an experiment. On the first day of class, he divided the class down the middle. The right side of the room would get graded on the quantity of pots, something like 50 pounds of pots would earn an A, 40 pounds a B, and so on. The left side of the room only had to make one pot--but it had to be perfect. So the class got busy, the right side throwing pots like crazy, the left side designing the perfect pot and studying how to make it just right.

The quantity-versus-quality experiment. On the last day of class, the teacher brought in a set of scales. To his surprise, he found that the best pots were not made by the students who had simply studied how to make pots. They were thrown by the students who had been actually making lots of pots, pounds and pounds of pots, who were forced to learn as they went.

This applies to books, too. Think quantity plots versus quality plots. The way to achieve quality plots is to increase your quantity of plots. You can study and take classes and attend workshops and conferences for years, but you will learn the most when you actually begin to work. It's true. Writers write. Regularly. Ruff said.

It applies to dogs, too. If you study how to be cute, it helps a little. But if you just start being cute, day after day, you gets treats.

Hey, this is good stuff. You should all send me one doggy biscuit (beef flavored is best) or a can of tuna. I have a can opener and a human who knows how to use it.

You can keep a secret, right?

Do you know how difficult it is for a little dog to get on to the computer and blog? I hope you appreciate my sacrifice in bringing the truth to you all.

Contrary to common belief, I have ghostwritten several books. Perhaps you've heard of them? How to Stuff a Wild Zucchini? My idea. Old Maid of Honor? Sunbeams on the Loose? My sense of humor comes out in my titles, don't you agree? Women Who Knew the Mortal Messiah? Yes, even dogs have a spiritual side.

But I'm not all fluffiness, as you'll learn if you ever cross me. I can bite your ankle and I can also also bump you off in my mysteries. Yes, I write mysteries. Murder mysteries. But don't worry; people who give me biscuits and back scratches will definitely stay on my good side.

Wait? Do you hear that? My writer friend is coming. I've got to jump down before she learns about my blog. I mean, she's not going to want the whole world knowing her deep, dark secret.

You can keep a secret, can't you?

Gotta run!

Why do guys hate being called cute?

I don't get it. Most guys hate it when a female calls them 'cute.' They prefer the more rugged term 'handsome.'

Get with it, guys. Cute can take you a lot closer to your goal. With handsome, you have to open doors, pay for meals, and fight off random attackers.

With cute, you get dog biscuits, back rubs, and lots of smoochies. And in the case of danger, you get picked up and carried to safety. Oh, and did I mention the yummy dog biscuits? (Of course with cute you also get annoying requests to 'come' and 'sit' and 'dance.')

In case you're wondering, yes, I am a very good dancer.

And I am very, very cute. So cute that even though I'm not supposed to be in my devotee's living room today, I'll be in there within an hour. Let's face it -- how can they resist the cuteness of me? Trust me, I'll be in there, lounging on my comfortable pillow, while she and two of her fellow authors plot another book. This month it won't be her book, but when it is her turn, my devotee (the not-nearly-famous-enough Heather Horrocks) ends up with a book that she will then very nicely ask me to help her write. And I will, because I'm just that kind of dog.

Sweet. Loveable. Incredibly talented and generous.

And humble.