Posts in Category: Foo Fighters
What’s Love Got To Do With It? Everything!
Love’s got everything to do with everything in my life. I love books so much I became a librarian so I can build forts out of them on my desk and pop out from behind them whenever anyone comes into the library. (If that doesn’t wake the students up, nothing will).
Chocolate and the Foo Fighters and Firefly all put a smile on my face because I love them/it so much.
So, yeah, love is huge in my life. But why do I feel the need to write about it in most of my stories? I’ll answer that question with another story. Don’t worry – it’s short.
Lightning struck my heart when I first got to know my BF eighteen years ago. No, not literally, but it sure felt like it. Every time I thought about him, which was all the time, my cheeks heated, a smile would dance across my lips, and I’d lose my appetite. Oh, yeah. I was falling for him. Big time.
Fast forward to now. The lightning that struck me has fueled a raging fire, and me and the BF are still ridiculously in love. We leave love notes for each other. We call each other cute nicknames. We walk each other to the door before work for one last kiss goodbye. It’s almost sickening how cute it is, isn’t it?
But that’s why I write about love. I want to capture that feeling for my characters because that feeling will stay with them forever, even if that particular love doesn’t last. Plus, as a reader, I enjoy reading about characters who find first love or long-lost love or love in the strangest place. I feel what they feel all over again.
Now, because I love all of you, here’s a gigantic contest! The winner gets a $250 e-giftcard to Amazon or Barnes & Noble, your choice. The contest is international and ends February 19th, so hurry! Enter the Rafflecopter below to win and good luck!
If you want to hop around to other Crescent Moon Press authors’ sites to see what they think love’s got to do with it, you can start here.
Rats Saw the Foo Fighters
Denver, Colorado. October 9, 2011. I sit in a not-too-crappy seat, my eyes glued to the stage. Mariachi el Bronx plays first. They’re not bad. It’s a mix of punk and mariachi. Strange combination, but they’re talented, and it works. They even play an accordian!
After their set, my feet can’t stop tapping. Not to the beat of Mariachi el Bronx’s songs as they run through my head. They tap just because.
The next band, Cage the Elephant, takes the stage. The lead singer staggers out, probably drunk. He pretends he’s a fish and dances like that while he wails. I want to slap him with a dead fish because that dance is not cool. The guitar relies too much on distortion. They remind me of Nirvana, and not in a good way. During the last song, the lead singer tries to jump on the guitarist’s head. Guitar Dude throws down his guitar in disgust and stomps off the stage. I don’t know if it’s all for real or for fake.
I have to pee. I run to the bathroom and back again before the roadies have cleared the stage. Then my feet double their tapping rhythm. Streams of people rush to their seats. Thousands and thousands of them. Their excited chatter swells to cheers when the lights dim.
But nothing happens.
The chatter starts back up again. I grip the arms of my seat and shake them, like I’m trying to propel the seat, the concert, everything forward.
The lights dim again. The crowd erupts. I pound my fist on my BF’s leg. He winces.
A guttural riff of a guitar fills the arena. Red and white strobe lights flash across the stage.
Then this happens:
I can’t move. I’m more than a little star-struck. Everyone must feel the same way because they’re all pulsing and cheering. That kind of excitement in the air can only be compared to Harry Potter book release parties, at least for me. But I can’t cheer along with the throng of people, because I still can’t move. Except my feet. They’re tapping away, in time with all my favorite songs.
Best. Concert. Ever. Even if I couldn’t move. Much.
So now I’m deeply in love with everything Foo Fighters, especially Mr. Dave Grohl. That guy is so talented, and I’ve always had a thing for boys in bands. In fact, my BF is a wicked drummer. When I met him, he was in a punk band. And now you know why he’s my BF. He’s okay with my Foo Fighters/Dave Grohl obsession. He’s the one who bought a Foo Fighters CD today. 🙂
Here’s the Foo Fighters’ opening song. If you could see me in this video, I would be the one not moving.
P.S. – The title of this post refers to the book called Rats Saw God by Rob Thomas. Rats, as in there were tons of us there, and the Foo Fighters, the gods of rock. Don’t you feel uber-enlightened now? 😉
The Hunger Games, ZZ Top, and the Prize Patrol
My brain is incapable of coming up with anything to chype about. Except The Hunger Games. I could chype all day about that. But I won’t because I’m hungry. Here’s the teaser trailer:
Something I’m Looking Forward To
In the midst of getting ready for school, pounding my head against the desk to get inspiration for bulletin board ideas, going to meetings, pounding my head against the school’s ancient computers, and going to even more meetings, I did something fun. Like holy moly fun.
The BF and I bought tickets to go to the Foo Fighters concert!!!!
I’m so in love with the Foo Fighters, I would marry Dave Grohl. (Sorry BF, but are you really surprised?) I can’t wait. I can’t wait. I can’t wait. Oh, sorry. Too much head-pounding and my brain goes wonky. Go figure.
Here’s a video of a Foo Fighters song that is always playing in the back of my wonky brain: