Charlotte Hughes is interviewed tonight (March 24th) live on radio by Dr. Howard Glussman, a Beverly Hills Radio Psychologist. The interview starts at 11 pm EST amd you can listen to it on your computer live (or later hear a podcast) at this link: click here
Archive for March, 2009
BlogWhat Are Your Body Parts Worth?
Okay, people, I found some interesting news online at Black Voices. Did you know that celebrities insure their body parts?
For example:Dolly Parton’s boobs are insured for $600,000.
Jennifer Lopez’s butt is insured for $27 million. (Hey, my butt is bigger than hers. I’m thinking I should have mine insured.)
Heidi Klum’s legs are insured for $2.2 million.
Tina Turner’s legs are insured for $3.2 million.
Angelina Jolie is insured for 1 Billion.
Soccer player David Beckman is insured for $70 million.
And, lastly – you’re going to LOVE this — Tom Jones’ CHEST HAIR is insured for $7 million.
Hey, I don’t make up this stuff. Go to:
I don’t usually write about politics and serious matters, but I am as concerned about the recession as everyone else so I wanted to pass on this information. CNN is running a special – Road to Rescue: The CNN Survival Guide — that I think might be of interest to those who are struggling. You can get information at http://www.cnn.com/Specials/2009/news/road.to.rescue/
In the meantime, my thoughts and prayers are with everyone who is suffering hardship
(Charlotte Hughes would like to welcome guest blogger Joe Konrath. He has a very popular blog about writing, he authors mysteries with a female cop featured, Joe has a horror book on the way, and as you will see from this post, he has a lively sense of humor)
I’m Joe Konrath, guest blogging for Charlotte. If you’re one of my three fans, you know I write a mystery series about a female cop named Jacqueline “Jack” Daniels. All the books are named after drinks—Whiskey Sour, Bloody Mary, Rusty Nail, Dirty Martini, Fuzzy Navel, and Cherry Bomb, which comes out this July.
They’re funny, but also have some scary parts in them.
Over the years, I’ve gotten many letters from readers asking if I could do a book that was all scary, without any of the humorous bits.
I gave it a try. The result was AFRAID, which I wrote under the name Jack Kilborn. It comes out at the end of March, and it’s scary. In fact, I tried to make it the scariest book ever written. If you think you’re brave enough, I encourage you to give it a try. You can read the first section at www.JackKilborn.com. You can also check out my funny books there.
Which brings me to why I’m here.
I’m currently on a blog tour, promoting AFRAID. Every day in March, I’m appearing on someone else’s blog, flogging my horror novel.
By now I’m pretty tired of talking about horror. So I’m going to take a goofy side trip.
Twitter.com is a social networking site where you post a sentence or two, to share with your friends.
A sentence or two is the perfect length for me to write a dumb joke.
So rather than yak yak yak about how scary AFRAID is and why everyone needs to buy ten copies, I’m going to share some of myposts instead.
If they amuse you, you should go buy ten copies of AFRAID.
I realized I’m not fat; just too short for my body weight. So instead of going on a diet, I’m committing myself to growing 17 inches taller.
My beeper plays Led Zeppelin riffs when I get a call. It’s my Jimmy Pager.
I’m now on a vegan diet. So far this month I’ve eaten two vegans.
I want to be a poseur, but I’m really not sincere or authentic, so I just act like one and hope I’m accepted by other poseurs.
I never let sleeping dogs lie. Dogs should have to tell the truth.
A nice thing about winter is no mosquitos. That is, until they learn to start wearing parkas. Then winter will reeeeally suck.
They should make a video game that’s a video game simulator, for when you don’t want to play a real video game.
I went bowling with my son. A ball rolls better.
The waiter thought I was nuts when I asked for A1 sauce. I hate snobs like that. I should be able to pour whatever I want on my apple pie.
Spanking can cause deep psychological scars in children. So you should wait until they’re asleep, then blame it on bad dreams.
I pinch pennies so tight Lincoln’s face is on my thumb.
She told me the necklace was too tight and when she finally got it on it made her eyes bug out. I decided not to tell her it was a bracelet.
A word to the wise: insisting your profession is “a human sundial” when you get arrested for indecent exposure does not amuse the judge.
She called them “butter cookies” but they were really just whole sticks of butter with sugar sprinkled on top. I ate three.
I hate Quitters Anonymous meetings, but I just keep going for some reason.
When there’s something really chewy in the apple pie, but you can’t really identify it, I really hope it isn’t cartilage.
Beer–it’s good for what ales you.
Indeed, the pen is mightier than the sword. But only the rocket pen, which fires a surface to air missile filled with tiny swords.
I’m going to get a full body tattoo. It will be a picture of someone thinner and more attractive.
I just bought one of those new Morse code cell phones. It’s totally .- .– . … — — . ..–.
I wrote a book about menopause, but it is hard to understand because it doesn’t have any periods.
I don’t care if it is another dare, I’ll never shave with a rusty bottle cap and witch hazel ever again.
I invented the world’s smallest cell phone. But I can’t seem to find it.
Are hearing aids becoming more expensive? I haven’t heard anything about it.
Catching a tiger by the toe gets easier with practice, my friend Stumpy told me.
I was addicted to nicotine gum, chewing three packs a day. So in order to ween myself off, I started smoking.
Grandma said the secret ingredient in her cookies was love. But I spied on her while she was baking. It was really boogers.
I’m hoping for the day humans learn to breathe underwater, but I’m not holding my breath.
My foot was injured at the mattress factory, and now I’ve got a spring in my step.
The crytographer called in sick, because caught a code. Yeah, I groaned too when I thought of it.
Twenty-five percent of people surveyed claim to understand percentages. The other eighty percent do not.
I think the candy companies should make a candy that can be not only be eaten, but also snorted. Also, it should have cocaine in it.
Pets enrich our lives, with many essential vitamins and minerals.
I’m writing a book about elderly dinosaurs. It’s called Geriassic Park. The T-Rex hero breaks a hip, and his children never call.
I had a pair of Velcro underwear, but they got ripped off.
I bet when Hormel Foods sends out emails they get blocked a lot.
I just found out I’m allergic to myself. Now I can’t take me anywhere.
When you’re going through ice-cream cone withdrawal, do you get the shakes?
I rewrite all of my stories until I get to the fourth draft. After that, I switch to bottles.
When I saw her, my breath caught and my heart skipped a beat. But I realized later it was really a myocardial infarction.
The best revenge is living a long, fulfilling life. That and burning down their house while they’re trapped inside.
I just saw my first Bollywood movie. It had a caste of thousands.
Whenever I go fishing, I’m reminded of an old girlfriend. Her name was Annette. She also had a sister, named Smallmouth Bass.
The things that come out of the mouths of babes. Like this toaster. How’d he fit that whole thing in there?
Roget had waaaay too much free time.
If I had a ten dollars for every car accident I’ve ever been in, I still couldn’t pay my insurance.
I hated him, but he said I couldn’t judge him unless I walked a mile in his shoes. So I beat him up and took his shoes.
I’ve written a book about Viagra. It’s a pop-up book. It was a hard book to write.
I’m not afraid of genetically altered or irradiated fruit, except for that giant pear who followed me home and beat me up and stole my TV.
It’s not really “stealing” if you plan to return everything you stole some day, perhaps after you die.
He said it was CPR, but I was only sleeping. Also, I don’t think CPR uses tongue.
When you’re a professional eater, a lunch break is just more work.
It’s always darkest just before the vampires attack.
As I turned my head and coughed I thought, “How lucky I am to have found a doctor who gives free exams in back alleys.”
I bought some Dutch cheese, and it was really Gouda.
Today I have spontaneity practice, followed by my Procrastinator’s Anonymous meeting, which I’m going to blow off.
I’m stating a new club called “Everyone Is Excluded.” I’d invite you, but I’m not invited either.
A child’s laughter is more precious than gold. I keep telling the pawn shop guy that, but he still won’t buy my son.
I’m reducing my beer consumption to one glass a day. Anyone know where I can find a 200 ounce glass?
I wrote a book about potty training. It was a number two bestseller.
Time is relative. That’s why I call him “Uncle Time.”
I’m writing a novel about a dwarf. Does that make it a short story?
With some lube I can fit my whole hand up my nose.
Maybe there wouldn’t be so many poor people in the world if they all had a bunch of money.
Having twelve fingers would be awesome. Except when it came time to buy gloves…
If all that wasn’t enough, there are plenty more at www.twitter.com/jakonrath.
Now go buy all of my books. Or even better, swipe them from your local library so they have to get replacement copies. It’s win-win.
And thanks Charlotte for putting up with me.
I am amazed that so many people think authors have a glamorous life. In my case, nothing could be farther from the truth. Imagine a middle-aged woman in unattractive pajamas sitting at her computer with three dogs at her feet; one of which has a problem with flatulence. That woman would be me.
Oh, sure, authors look good at book signings, but for many of us that’s the only time we tweeze our eyebrows, wear pantyhose, and exfoliate. And for someone who wears socks or sneakers around the house every day, putting me in low heels is tortuous. My last book tour almost crippled me.
Most authors are not naturally witty and charming. Unless we’re very drunk, of course, but who wants to end the evening with puke in her hair? Plus, it’s not safe to drink on Zoloft.
It’s not easy to be interesting .. to see the rest of the post go to Coffeetime Romance’s Blog
I just have to tell everyone — Barbie turned 50 years old today. Can you believe that _itch still fits in the clothes she wore at 20?
I am back from two weeks of book signings — during which time I was forced to wear makeup and pantyhose — and I’d like to thank those who showed up. One reader brought me home made candy so many thanks to PJ for that! Now get this: We left Alpharetta, Georgia, bound for Lithonia, Georgia, on Sunday, March 1st and hit a snow storm! Actually, it was a blizzard! I’m not exaggerating! I always said if I wore makeup and pantyhose hell would freeze over so I’m sort of thinking I had something to do with that snow storm.
Although I’ll have to go to a couple of signings at the end of the month, I am SO GLAD to be home. I missed my pets, even the dachshund with the flatulence problem. He is sprawled across my feet as I sit here and type this. Every time he farts I spray him with Lysol. I’m not sure it’s good for his fur, but it keeps me from barfing on my keyboard.
So now I have two weeks to finish my book. There is also a box of unopened chocolate in the house, left over from boxes I purchased for bookstore sellers. I hope all of you will keep me in your thoughts and prayers as I try to stay out of it.
Big warm hug to everyone!
Symptoms of a Chocolate Addict
Answer Yes or No
____ Once you start eating chocolate you are not able to stop until you eat it all or become sick.
____ You lie to loved ones about how much chocolate you eat.
____ You have tried and failed to cut back on the amount of chocolate you eat.
____ You get the shakes if you go too long without chocolate.
____ You spend more money on chocolate than shoes.
____ You have felt guilty about how much chocolate you eat.
____ You feel annoyed when people criticize you for eating too much chocolate.
____ You need chocolate first thing in the morning to get over your chocolate hangover from the night before.
____ You’ve tried hiding chocolate from yourself.
If you’ve answered yes to all the questions above, odds are you have a chocolate stash somewhere in your house. And that makes me think of a funny question: How many of you have a chocolate stash? Also, where’s the funniest place you’ve ever hidden it?
Charlotte is blogging at Casablanca Authors today as part of her Nutcase online book tour, and to read the entire post go to:
When I decided to write a comedic mystery series about a female psychologist and her crazy family, friends, and patients, I knew I was going to have to research various mental disorders. Little did I know what I would discover about myself!
In shopping for crazy people to inhabit my story, one place I turned to was the “DSM” or “Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.” While reading through the diagnoses, it didn’t take long for me to realize I had a crap load of issues. For example, I’m fairly convinced that I have ADHD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Anxiety Disorder, combined with maybe a sprinkling of passive aggressiveness and something akin to bipolar illness. Bipolar people spend too much money. That would explain why my large storage closet resembles a strip mall. In my defense, I try to buy things on sale all year because I have so many gifts to give at Christmas. Still, my unprofessional diagnosis of myself was scary. Also, menopause brings a lot of mood swings. What if I have multiple personality disorder as well, I thought! Knowing what I know, I’m almost afraid to be alone with myself. (this is a guest blog at Love Is An Exploding Cigar, Please see the rest of it and comment): http://loveisanexplodingcigar.com/charlottehughes/welcome_guest_author_charlotte_hughes
Beth Ciotta is a guest blogger today. I love meeting authors who are just as wild and wacky as I am, and I have to say that comedy/suspense writer Beth Ciotta seems to fit the wild and wacky mold. In fact, to hear her tell it, she may be a candidate for my group therapy sessions, only I might need three chairs for her. She certainly seems to have three very distinct females living in her skin. Beth is published in contemporary, historical, and paranormal romantic fiction. Currently, she writes for Medallion Press and HQN (Harlequin). EVIE EVER AFTER, the third book in a contemporary trilogy for HQN hits shelves March 1st. You’ll have to check out Beth’s website – it is loads of fun! www.bethciotta.com Take it away, Beth. . .
Fate is a curious and marvelous thing. When afforded the opportunity to guest blog here, I jumped at the chance. My first thought was, “Wow. I get to play on Charlotte Hughes’s home turf. How cool is that?” My second thought: “This is fate.”
Allow me to pull up a couch and explain.
First up, Beth-the-entertainer. I grew up convinced I was going to be a star. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to pursue singing, dancing, or acting, so I dabbled in all three instead of mastering one. The result was a multi-skilled entertainer who made a decent living for thirty years (I started young!) as a variety performer. The star thing was a bust, unless you count the time I appeared in a casino showroom singing back-up for boxer Joe Frazier. But I digress. Thanks to years of experience, this Beth is confident and animated.
Enter Beth-the-writer. She’s always been a part of me, but didn’t come alive until my passion to perform started to fade. Good timing, because, by the time I’d honed my writing chops enough to land a publishing contract I was nearing my 40s and losing performance gigs to women in their 20s. Not that I’m bitter. Okay. I’m not bitter now, but as it was happening, I confess, I was, um, crushed. I ended up pouring my heart, soul, and angst into a story and Evie Parish was born. A washed-up veteran performer looking for passion and purpose who ends up signing on with a government agency to bust nefarious scams. Utilizing my entertainment background and whacked imagination, I wrote three adventures for HQN Books, rediscovering passion and purpose right alongside Evie. In private, this Beth is insecure and introverted. In public, Beth-the-entertainer sneaks in morphing me from chicken to ham.
Meet Beth-the-library-assistant. Needing to supplement my writing income and unwilling to don cheesy costumes to perform singing telegrams, I applied for a fulltime position at my local library. Talk about a dream job! I’m surrounded by books. I get to talk about books. I get to recommend favorite authors who are also, sometimes, bonus, friends. This Beth is motivated and confident. Er, except when a patron brings a paperback to the desk, asking me if I know anything about this author’s work, and that author is, um, me. Just one instance of my worlds colliding. I guess I shouldn’t complain. Although there are days when I don’t know who I am, at least I’m a happy nutcase.
(Storytelling comes naturally to veteran performer and award-winning author, Beth Ciotta. Limiting herself to writing one sub-genre does not. A creative spaz, Beth is published in contemporary, historical, and paranormal romantic fiction. Currently, she writes for Medallion Press and HQN (Harlequin). EVIE EVER AFTER, the third book in a contemporary trilogy for HQN hits shelves March 1st. )