DIARY OF A GIRL-NEXT-DOOR HEAVY METAL NOVELIST
February
1, 2005
Spoke to my attorney
today. She is like Superman. I can't believe how everything is coming
together. She's going to hook me up with some powerful disclaimer language
that could keep even kryptonite from hurting me.
I picked up my Valentines at the printer tonight. I had every intention of starting to personalize them, but I got carried away trying to efficiently file the 2000+ emails that were transferred to my new account with my website's "upgrade." Sometimes I think I couldn't have been born at a more perfect time in technological history. Then I remember it's probably good to have the internet AND friends.
February
2, 2005
My web service provider tells me that I'm maxing out my deal because
I "might have the most popular site on the server." Well well
well. Is this what it feels like to be popular? I have a date this weekend,
too. Holy crap. Maybe I'm not just popular, but I have mojo, too. Can
you stand it?
Note to self: If I use the word "mojo" then I have neither mojo nor popularity. Rats.
February
4, 2005
I personalized 60 Valentines
this year, although as my list of recipients gets longer, my handwritten
notes get a lot shorter. Sorry, friends. If you're really my friend,
you'll love me anyway.
I've had zero time for my book, but I did get my registration info for the Cincinnati KISS Expo, which included a diagram of the room arrangement. There are four tables highlighted for people like Bruce Kulick, and one of them is circled and labeled "Your table." Hot damn. I remember standing in line at my second-ever KISS expo, waiting for my turn to meet Mr. Kulick and ask him to autograph my Revenge CD. Now, maybe I'll comp him a book.
February
6, 2005
The muscles in my thumb are sore, perhaps from writing out my Valentine
notes. I took a break today to try to get some book-related work done,
and I was able to find the absolute perfect fiction disclaimer. Stephen
King is my hero. I knew if I could find the short story "You
Know They Got a Hell of a Band," I would be able to piggyback
on his legal savvy. Indeed I shall.
When I was having lunch today, I saw an Elvis impersonator who must have been about 60. It was so cool until he left, and everyone in the restaurant started making faces. Whatever. That guy was 100% cool and living his fantasy. It gave me some personal inspiration.
February
7, 2005
My first batch of Valentines
went into the mail tonight. Now, I can start thinking about sending
my manuscript to the publisher. I updated my disclaimer language last
night. I need to run it by my crack legal team (she's only one person,
but I like the word "crack") then it's off to my destiny.
Tomorrow, I have to see my accountant to explain why I only made 50
bucks in KISSfiction income last year. The IRS is going to wag its finger
in my face and scold me for all my write-offs from the past three years,
but in 2005, I'll be their golden girl.
My sister and sister-in-law met Jimmy Carter on Saturday and my brother met Owen Wilson. Still I think the highlight of my siblings' February in Jacksonville won't be the Superbowl, but will instead be the KISS NATION show on February 20. I'm a little ticked at myself because my sister has been bugging me to make a KNation flyer so she could distribute it around the city. I threw one together tonight, and I think it would have had just the right amount of sex appeal and social consciousness to attract both the former President and former Hutch to the gig. Not even celebrities could resist the charm of my siblings. Damn that thing called the window of opportunity.
February
8, 2005
My accountant said, "No problema." Now, I must gather up my
receipts for KISS tickets, postage stamps and ink cartridges.
After my financial meeting, I went to work and checked my email. A couple friends had written to tell me that a virus had infected my website. It's one of those things called a worm. My friends had more details about the infestation than I did, but I believe I was able to eliminate the faulty source code.
Sticks & stones, children.
February
9, 2005
Publisher says: Where is your book, for the love of god?
Colette says: I'm scared.
Publisher: Send it now.
Colette: What if there's a typo?
Publisher: Get it together, sister.
Colette: Rock & roll.
February
10, 2005
It's all about the mail these days. My Valentines
are on the way, my manuscript is almost on the way, and if homonyms
count for anything, I'm getting attention, albeit I'm not sure positive.
If you got that joke (or even realized it was a joke), maybe I'm not such a bad writer.
My life was briefly tangled in the politics of karaoke tonight. There is an unwritten rule about singing someone else's signature song. You just don't do it. But what if the person who owns a song doesn't show up for a couple months? And what if one of your friends recommends that you sing the song that you know has strings attached? And what if, after your friend fills out a slip for you and turns it in, the long lost owner walks through the front door of the bar? Can you almost picture her walking through the swinging doors of a saloon with her fingers wiggling next to her holster? I can -- because that's what happened.
"Colette's up next!" the host said as the distinctive notes of the song began.
I am alive to tell the tale of the night I sang that f-ing song a thousand times better than that b*tch ever did. That being said, I'm probably due for an ass kicking. (continue)