1. Ass or undercarriage? This was a debate at a party we threw this weekend. My vote: ass, mostly because undercarriage is all kinds of gross in a very make-my-skin-crawl kind of way.
2. Remember the first time you heard Ron Carter’s smooth jazz beats under QTip’s lyrics in Verses from the Abstract?
3. Dear Calvin Klein: just so we’re clear, Justin Bieber makes me want to buy NOTHING. Not that I’m ever tempted to buy any of your clothing anyway since I don’t live in a time capsule firmly set in 1988, but now I just find you ridiculous. Perhaps that’s the point.
4. I’m in a funk…about my writing and being an independent author and all that shit but am still writing constantly in hopes that some day soon, I’ll start feeling better about things. That said, it’s the perfect mind frame to write my character, Dutch Mathews, as everything about him is black and foul and fucked up.
5. Pink’s response to the weight haters is the best and only makes me love her more
6. I have one word for you: taxes
7. During a conversation last week on my Facebook author page, I experienced an epiphany. I asked folks if they had read any books with diverse main characters in the last six months and one of the conversations that branched off from that question concerned whether or not to read strictly diverse to the expulsion of any non-diverse works. I argued that a balance needs to be reached, making for a truly diverse bookshelf whereas my friends said no, they disagreed. They had spent 29 years having white authors and white characters and white story lines shoved down their throats to the point where it seemed they didn’t even count as young, black women. They had been ignored for so long as part of the American literary landscape that there was no guilt in turning around and doing the ignoring themselves. It was here I suddenly realized WOW! as a brown woman whose parents came from India, with few relatives in North America, visiting family members in India every five years or so, I never once expected my American storyline to ever ever count in this country, much less show up in any of my books. I always expected to be ignored so never seeing anyone who looked like me, thought like me, talked like me in any of the books I read had little to no effect on my reading habits. I still don’t expect to be included in the “American” conversation and am always surprised to realize that these days, here and there, I am. It’s a strange line to walk and can only hope it’s one my son won’t have to.
8. Here’s a little more from one of my WIPs:
“That girl requires long, deep, wet kisses all over her delicious body and she wants to talk, about everything under the sun, and after she’s finished talking to you, she’s going to touch your face and lips and chest because she likes to know the feel of her lover’s body and when she fucks you she’s going to be on top, grinding those gorgeous hips on your dick, staring at you while you both come. You aren’t man enough to deal with a girl like that, Mathews.”
“Said the gay killer in the bar,” I shot back.
“I might be gay, but I’m not stupid.”
9. For the record, spring weekends are made for tooling around town with the top down in the Mini. #sorrynotsorry