Lightning Round!

Because I'm in the middle of deadline dementia, I really struggled with what to write about today. In a bid for absolute slackery—what? that's what Twitter is for—I threw out a call for something to answer.

I got a handful of questions and I chose one, but more on that later. Today's Underground post is going to be a Lightning Round!

You ready? Pull down your goggles, folks, and let's hit it.

You Wants It, Preciousssss

Did you see this? Have I not thrown it around like the absolute crack that it is?

But wait, there's more! No, really, there is. Would you like another peek at Jessie and Silas? Are you feeling properly voyeuristic? Want an eyeful of eyecandy?

I'm talking, like, eyecandy, man. More eyecandy than a single eye can safely take in! More than two eyes can handle; epic eyecandy of doom.

...But I'm not going to reveal it here. What's the fun in that? No, instead, you must work for it. You must fall to your knees in supplication and demand—yes, I said demand!—your taste of the good stuff!

Or... you can sign up for my newsletter by clicking this rather verbose link. Don't worry; it only takes a moment, and I promise not to fill your inbox with the utter deliciousness that is my glistening spam-meats. Four newsletters a year. First dibs at some contests, up to date release news and even exclusive excerpts.

Especially nice for those of you who don't want to put up with my barrage of spam-like gibbets on Twitter and Facebook. (See what I did there? Yeah, you can follow me there, too, if you really can't get enough of me.)

So do it. Do eet. You can unsubscribe at any time.

A Rose By Any Other Name is Totally Not a Rose

How do you decide on names for your characters? Sometimes names are symbolic sometimes just smexy. How do you do the name-voodoo that you do so well?

/via Sharon S., Facebook

When I put out the call for people to ask me any questions they wanted, I thought this one would be a great one to answer here at the Supernatural Underground. Why? Several reasons: 1) Sharon's a fab Supernatural Underground fan. 2) It lets me talk about Blood of the Wicked some. And 3) She used the word "smexy". I love that word.

Don't worry... I've got some more questions to answer and I will! Check back at Teatime Iniquity to see what I've got to say. Usually, a lot.

I have no tried and true formula for naming. Names are, you know, names. Like book. Bell. Bird. And other things beginning with B. Whenever I think about names and naming conventions, I always flash to that scene in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy:

Ahhhhh...! What's happening? Er, excuse me, who am I? Hello? Why am I here? What's my purpose in life? What do I mean by who am I? Calm down, get a grip now... Oh! This is an interesting sensation, what is it? It's a sort of...yawning, tingling sensation in my...my...well, I suppose I'd better start finding names for things if I want to make any headway in what for the sake of what I shall call an argument I shall call the world, so let’s call it my stomach. So, a yawning tingling sensation in my stomach Good. Ooooh, it’s getting quite strong. And hey, what about this whistling, roaring sound going past what I'm suddenly going to call my head? That can be... Wind! Is that a good name? Oh er, It’ll do... perhaps I can find a better name for it later when I've found out what it’s for because there certainly seems to be a hell of a lot of it. Hey! What's this thing? This... let's call it a tail. Yeah! Tail. Hey! I can really thrash it about pretty good, can't I? Wow! Wow! Hey doesn’t seem to achieve much but I'll probably find out what it's for later on. Now, have I built up any coherent picture of things yet? No. Oh hey, this is really exciting, so much to find out about, so much to look forward to, I'm quite dizzy with anticipation... Or is it the wind? Hey! There really is a lot of that now, isn't there? And wow! What's this thing suddenly coming toward me very fast? Very, very fast. So big and flat and wide it needs a big wide-sounding word like ...ow...ound...round...ground! That's it! Ground! I wonder if it'll be friendly?

/BBC Productions, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

In short, if it sounds good, I use it. Then that name becomes part of the character, and it's as if that character never had any other name. Nor could it belong to any other character; Silas is Silas. There is only one Naomi.

All that said? I do have a bit of a process. It goes like this:

ME: "I just finished listening to Neil Gaiman's audiobook of The Graveyard Book. He has such a wonderful voice. Oh, and the way he wrote and read for Silas was just so. Freaking. Good. Silas. Yeah. Hey, what a name. That's a good name. Nice and strong, but old-fashioned. I like the way Neil said the name. Silas. Silas. Si-las. I think I like it. Have I said that? I do. Maybe I'll use it. Hey, I should write something now. What about? Oh, you know. Witches and witch hunters. Ooh. You know, Silas has a bit of a Biblical sound to it. Witch hunter. Totally. You know what else has a Biblical sound to it? Jonas. Now there's a fine name."

MANCANDY: "I like Jakob."

ME: "Shut up, you already used Jakob to death. Ooh, Jake's a good name, but I always see him as a blond."

MANCANDY: [blond]


Me: "...Shut up."

And so on, so forth. If you've spoken with me or watched my video blogs, you know I think and speak exactly like that.

And then there are the names I steal from the mancandy. Ian Black. Alex Bishop. He used them for characters first. Then again, he's stolen names from me, too. So it's sort of fair. Like marriage. What's his is mine, and what's mine is mine... Wait.

Lend Me Your Gibbets!

Actually, don't. Keep your gibbets. What I would like, however, are your suggestions.

I finished Karen Marie Moning's Shadowfever on Tuesday. Yes, last Tuesday. Yes, the day it came out—Look, you aren't judging me, right? Right! So, what I need from you are suggestions.

Come, my paranormal fetishists! What books are you really digging right now?

The Random Stuff

Bring on the TMI!

Actually, not so much. I'd invite you into my bedroom, but it's kind of a mess and I'm sure it's far too small. So instead, here's a quickie. Wait, not... Look, okay, try to keep up?

I've had the plague. The zombie plague. Well, I didn't eat gibbets—golly, why is that word so prolific up in here?—but I did lose a week to whatever not-zombie plague dance I got all wrapped up in. This means it's not just deadline dementia over here, it's downright disturbia.

One day, I want to write a series with Disturbia as the title.

Which is kind of related but actually separate from my deeply rooted desire to write a series of books with random song lyrics as the title.

I digress...

Now that I'm getting over the plague, I'm back to writing. But I need a new office chair, because holy mother of all things made of cheese, my sciatic nerve has been killing me.

It gets better when I don't spend eight hours in my crappy office chair, but hello? Author. Livelihood. Etc. So I've been scoping out chairs. Any suggestions, my deliciously seated friends?

Otherwise, it's business as usual at my place. Lots of glamor (coughhackliecough) and lots and lots and lots of caffeine.

In News That Happened to Other People

Colleen Gleason got her tweet scoped out by The Jersey Shore, yo. Seriously. Right now—well, okay, not now because she's probably out snogging with her big gorilla juicehead sent from God, but soon!—Snooki will be praying that Colleen gets a big gorilla juicehead all her very own.

Merrie Destefano got her newsletter up! If you're going to get mine, you really should sign up for hers, too. She's worked her poor fingers to the bone for you all. To the bone. 42 hours of labor she suffered for you, and the least you could do is call your mother. All day long over the stove, and what do you do? You don't eat your carrots. All day long—Wait, where was I?

Oh, yes. Go get her newsletter.

Hey! Did you know that Chuck Wendig knows your dirty, dirty secret? You know, that one. That one. No, not that one. Not that one, either. Dude—don't tell that one. I mean the other one: the one about how you really, really don't want to be a writer. Oh, yeah. He knows. And now everyone does, too.

But guess what? He's knows the other one, too. Your other dirty little secret. The one that says screw that noise, you totally want to be a writer.

...Are you overwhelmed yet? Then I shall consider this a job well done and go back to my own corner of this disturbed little dementia land.

Bye!

Love ya!

....Mean it!