“Fire crews hosed down gravy-soaked competitors.”

My kids like gravy. They like it a lot. So much, that at Thanksgiving we don’t have a gravy boat, we have an armada.

But even they can’t match these fanatics.

Wrestlers take to the gravy ring.

Wrestling competitors have been bidding for a world title in 40,000 portions of out-of-date gravy.

The Rose ‘n’ Bowl pub in Stacksteads, Lancashire, hosted the World Gravy Wrestling Championships.

“Emma Slater, 23, from Oldham, won the women’s bout dressed as Mrs Christmas.”

Pour it on.

If Cousin Tater baked Evan a cake

From Cakewrecks.

Helpful writing hint #3: Watch the road

The creation of a novel doesn’t take place entirely at a keyboard. Much of it takes place in the author’s head — brainstorming, free-associating, mentally sculpting scenes and plotlines.

However. If the author is driving, it’s vital to give the brainstorming a rest. Focus all your attention on the road, not on the mental map.

This is a long way of explaining why I set out this morning to drive one mile to the gym, and ended up in the next town.

Upcoming events: Reading Festival, Bouchercon

My autumn schedule is shaping up.

Reading Festival of Crime Writing.
Reading, England
Sunday 13th September, 2-3:30 p.m.
Panel: “The thrill of the chase”

Bouchercon
World Mystery Convention
Indianapolis, Indiana
October 15-18, 2009

This will be my first chance to attend Bouchercon, the granddaddy of crimewriting conventions. I’m really looking forward to it.

NYC hotel guests bare all to park-goers

New York park offers full-frontal views of naked hotel guests.

Guests at the Standard Hotel in Manhattan keep failing to close the curtains as they frolic naked in front of their rooms’ floor-to-ceiling windows, easily viewed from the High Line park below. The park recently opened atop an abandoned elevated rail line.

“Aaron Lipman works in the neighborhood and says the shows are ‘healthy and fun.’ He says they’re like TV’s ‘Wild Kingdom.’”

The hotel issued a statement Monday saying its managers will try to “remind guests of the transparency” of the windows.

Definitely. Because folks who gambol nude-assed in front of floor-to-ceiling windows are people who need constant reminding: Glass is clear.

And yes, I’m trying to use all spellings of “bare” this week. Now, if the Standard Hotel could arrange for Berlino the Berlin mascot, or the Cleveland cardboard bear, to chase the bare-naked guests, the exhibitionism wildlife exhibit would be complete.

The boys have left the building

And it’s quiet. Vewwy, vewwy quiet. Right now in the house it’s just me, my novel-in-progress, the dog, the cat, and… surprise, surprise, unmatched gym socks, trailing down the hall from a boy’s bedroom in the direction of the washing machine.

I give myself 24 hours before I miss the guys. 48 before I go nuts from lack of banter, and start talking movies and politics with the pets.

But I’ll get a lot of work done. Or I will once I find the mates to all those socks.

Unbearable

They should have asked Berlino the Berlin mascot to play the role of the back yard bear.

(Via Andrew Sullivan.)

My thoughtful son

Both my boys are heading back to college in the morning. So I’ve asked them what they want for dinner tonight.

Mark: “Ham. A huge one. Ten pounder.” He smiles. “And cheese potatoes. And a cheesecake the size of a table. And I’ll only eat a bite, and leave it all here for you.”

He gives me an ain’t-I-cute grin. I have forsaken ham, cheese potatoes, and cheesecake, and he knows this.

“No,” I say.

“But you could battle the urge to eat it. You could blog about it.” He draws the headline in the air. “Meg versus the Ham, Part I.”

Sorry, bud. I’ve already declared the battle over. We’re having Italian.

Contest 2009: The judging begins

The 2009 contest to become a character in my next novel is now closed. Many thanks to everybody who entered. Once again, your submissions have left me laughing out loud.

The winner will be announced in a few days.

Bear-back riding never ends well

Remember, kids: Bears and hurdlers don’t mix.

KFC doubles down

I just… You gotta be…

Can’t even find words to describe my feelings, except “hungry” isn’t one of them.

“KFC is now offering a ‘sandwich’ which consists of bacon, two kinds of cheeses and sauce between two pieces of fried chicken. That’s right, fried chicken as a bun instead of bread.”

Final day to enter the contest

There’s still time to enter the contest to become a character in my next novel. Enter here.

Book v. Kindle

Who’s scared of a little technology?

(Thanks to Dan for the link, even though I will now have “O Fortuna” stuck in my head for the rest of the day.)

Deadline report

To my family and friends: Please note that I have an approaching book deadline, and

1. I have not locked myself in the writing bunker
2. The pets have not been buried under a cascade of empty pizza delivery boxes (Kate, you have so little faith in your mother)
3. The Husband has not thrown the boys in the car and fled to another country.

Everything is fine. I am much calmer about writing to deadline than I used to be.

Okay, I’ll admit that I have so many boxes, books, and piles of paper stacked around my desk that it has become a homemade fort. And this morning the Husband muttered something about the airport and about putting an ocean between the kids and “the crazy mommy.” And that, when the pets heard this, they scratched a hole in the door, ran outside, and tried to hotwire the car.

Other than that, however, everything is perfectly normal.