Hey there Troutnation (citizenship optional, a tweep just suggested that and I thought it was hilarious), I just wanted to clue you in on what’s happening next week! After I post the next 50 Shades Freed recap on Saturday, March 23rd, I’ll be taking a short break from blogging to catch up on projects (such as finishing the last two chapters of The Boss and putting in some serious word count on my upcoming YA from Entangled Teen, Such Sweet Sorrow), as well as working on cleaning up some of the broken links and consolidating the Buffy recaps onto their own page.
On April 1st, I’ll be re-releasing my short story, Sex, Lies, and Inventions here on the blog in a few different ebook formats. This one will be a freebie, as it will later be spun into a longer project. And no, that’s not an April Fool’s day joke, I’m not smart enough to pull those off.
Then, April 2nd, things will be back to operations as normal, and I’ll go back through and break all the links I fixed, just so nobody thinks I’m trying to get too classy for my own britches.
In the meanwhile, let me introduce you to someone very special to me.
You’re going to want this musical accompaniment while I introduce you:
Okay. Let me introduce you to my first love, John Denver.
Why are you screaming like that? Is it because the dye from her embroidery thread mouth and heart have run over the years and it looks like she’s drooling blood? Don’t worry. That bothers a lot of people at first. But once you get to know her, you’ll see that it’s all a part of her charm.
John Denver was sewn for me by a friend of the family when I was about three years old. Because I was three, I named her John Denver. I thought that was the most beautiful name in the whole wide world, for the most beautiful doll in the whole wide world. When I got her, she was about my approximate height. She also had a calico dress, apron, and puffy cap. These items have been lost because I borrowed them for dress up. They were my size, and we shared clothes often when we first met.
Over the years, John Denver has been through a lot, including a three year imprisonment in a garbage bag in my mom’s basement when we didn’t know where she was. But now she’s living with me, much to my husband’s chagrin.
Why chagrin? Because my husband, Mr. Jen, is terrified beyond all comprehension of John Denver. He doesn’t like her “weird face” or her “weird name.” He hates that she is roughly child-sized and always seems to be “accidentally” posed right behind him when he’s on the computer or playing a video game. He looks up, sees her from the corner of his eye, and is immediately creeped out.
I don’t know who keeps doing that to him.
Maybe it’s because she never blinks. Her innocent blue eyes are wide and all seeing. Perhaps he’s afraid she’ll look into his soul. Or perhaps he’s creeped out by the way I will sometimes use her as a puppet, miming the doll slowly drawing its hand across its throat, then pointing ominously at him. Maybe he’s just afraid a spider will crawl out of her orange yarn hair, as happened to me once upon a time.
I have still never quite forgiven her.
These days, John Denver spends her days on a chair in my office. Sometimes, she wears a Star Wars shirt. Somedays, she goes au naturel. Sometimes, she holds an instrument like a ukulele or a baritone. Hats get involved.
This year, John Denver and I will be celebrating our thirtieth anniversary of everlasting friendship.
