Gee, has it been a whole week since I blogged? I've been working hard, promise. Still revising GOTH (although I had a nice mental breakthrough for a scene GOB I'm itching to write down soon.) The floor of my writing corner is littered with murdered darlings. It's a veritable darling bloodbath. Ah, revision.

Then last night, Mr. Dare fell asleep with the TV on, and I got completely sucked into this amazing film, Brothers of the Head. It's a fake documentary about a 70s punk band, but completely different from 'mockumentaries' like Christopher Guest's Spinal Tap or A Mighty Wind. (Sidenote: Have you all seen Waiting for Guffman? You must see Waiting for Guffman.)

Anyhoo, Brothers of the Head is the 'true story' of Siamese twins Tom and Barry, featured in the punk-rock group "The Bang Bang." And it is amazing. The lead performances from (non-conjoined) twins Luke and Harry Treadaway had me riveted, as did the film's rather voyeuristic storytelling style. The twins' wildly divergent personalities and the exploitive influences around them make for a sort of self-destructing, Jekyll-and-Hyde trainwreck of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. And you can't watch this movie without thinking waaay too hard about what it would like to be with another person - All. The. Time. To share everything, to have no privacy whatsoever, to never be alone with even your thoughts.

Now this may be a Tessa Dare first, the quoting of an existentialist, but blame my college-dorm production of No Exit. Sartre wrote, "Hell is other people." And this movie makes a really convincing case for that.

So it seemed appropriate, for TMI Tuesday, to talk about privacy and boundaries. What do you refuse to share with anyone - even your closest family, your best friend, or your significant other? Old secrets? A toothbrush? Your writing?

Seen any good movies lately?

Well, my Field & Stream mystery has been solved. My good friend and neighbor also received two issues of F&S the same day I did - and she, being a vegetarian, anti-gun pacifist, called the magazine demanding to know who sent this offensive publication to her house. Turns out, we were both automatically subscribed to it when we made reservations for a two-family camping trip we took earlier this summer. So none of you did it. (Why the US Park Service believes everyone who makes a camping reservation would enjoy Field and Stream is beyond me, but ...)

This got me thinking, I bet everyone has some good stories about the mail. Tell me about the strangest or funniest or most surprising thing you ordered through the mail, received in the mail, sent through the mail ... extra points to you if it really qualifies as TMI.

This isn't really TMI, but it still cracks me up when I think about it - when I was an overseas volunteer, my mother tried to send a Harry & David fruitcake to my host family for Christmas. I guess she thought fruitcake would be an interesting sort of cultural exchange, or it would survive the tropical climate ... I don't know. Anyhow, Christmas came and went and it never showed up. It was assumed that perhaps the package was 'misdirected' to some random postal worker's family - it wouldn't have been unusual for that to happen. Six months later, the thing finally arrived - it had been stamped "QUARANTINE," opened and resealed, clearly poked and prodded and even slit with a knife from the bottom. Probably every postal worker in the office had autopsied it to figure out what the heck it was and whether or not it was worth taking for their own. But the sad little fruitcake was eventually rejected by all, it would seem, and eventually landed with a thunk on my host family's doorstep.

And - against my urgings not to - they still tasted it.

Way back in April, I was blogging about Pam Spengler-Jaffee's tips for promoting your book in unlikely forums. And I joked about promoting Goddess of the Hunt at gun shows and in sporting magazines and quoted that great line from Notting Hill, "The readers of Horse and Hound will be delighted."

So what shows up in my mailbox yesterday, but two issues of Field & Stream, addressed to MOI. The first (which I could not find a photo of, darn it) has a cover story titled "The Best Ammo" and a feature on "1,000 Women Hunters."

Now seriously, did one of you do this? I can't for the life of me imagine how I got subscribed to this magazine. But I do wonder what they charge for a 1/4 page ad....

So on Smart Bitches this week, there's been this whole bloffle (doing my part, Sara Dennis!) over a few authors' decision to wear costumes to the RWA literary signing. A few authors in the new manga-inspired Shomi line donned manga-inspired outfits, complete with thigh-high stockings and miniskirts, and Sherrilyn Kenyon wore a now-infamous hat shaped like a black swan. In the sea of 450 authors, I honestly didn't notice any of this, but evidently more than a few people were miffed that, with RWA raising tens of thousands of dollars for literacy and trying to promote a positive, professional image of the genre, the newspaper editors ran pictures of the swan hat.

There were scads of workshops on promotion at RWA. More and more, it seems authors are responsible for promoting their own books, growing a readership, creating buzz, etc. Some spend a great deal of money on it, and the concept of 'branding' - putting out a consistent public image that links you the author with the type of books you write - is key. The goody room was filled with all sorts of promotional materials with authors' names emblazoned on them - from mints to rubber duckies to condoms.

You often hear the old adage, "there's no such thing as bad publicity." Is that true? Or is there a line authors should not cross in their promotional efforts; a point where they diminish the genre by pushing their own book? Personally, I had no problem with the manga-inspired outfits - I thought they looked cute. But then, I live in a large urban area, where it wouldn't be strange to see a young woman wearing that on the bus. And although I wouldn't wear a swan hat myself, I can't say it bothered me that someone else did. I mean, there were plenty of questionable fashion choices on display, and I myself am no fashion plate.

I respect the opinions of those authors who are consistently called on to defend our genre in interviews and appearances, who feel this type of publicity stunt just makes their struggle all the more difficult. Perhaps I'll feel the same some day, if I'm published and out there trying to gain respect for my own work. But when I think of defending romance, I usually think of defending a person's right to read books that give them pleasure. It's okay, I find myself arguing, to read books that end happily, that remind us of that giddy flush of attraction, that celebrate love and relationships, that are generally optimistic. To sum up, it's okay to love books that are fun. And whether it's a swan hat or thigh-high pink stockings or whathaveyou, I think it's okay to wear clothes that are fun, too.

What do you think? Do authors have a responsibility to represent the genre that sometimes trumps promoting their own books? Where do promotion and professionalism become mutually exclusive? Should there be a dress code at next year's signing?

So in Dallas, there was a recurring conversation that went something like this:
"I so want to go to her panel/spotlight/signing, but I don't want her to think that I'm stalking her!"

It seemed we were always treading this fine line between wanting to interact with our favorite authors or dream editors and not wanting to look like obsessive fans of dubious mental stability.

And it seems, in romance, there is often that fine line between attention and persistence that is swooningly romantic and scary stalking.

In college, I was once at one of those award dinners and found myself seated across from a very cute couple. In the course of conversation, they told the story of how they'd got together. They'd met at a party, and the guy was instantly smitten. The problem was, she left the party before he could get her number. All he knew was her (very common) first name and the name of her hometown. Now, we had this student directory that listed all of the (30,000) undergraduates and included their hometowns in the entry. So this guy spent the rest of the weekend going through it, page by page, to find an entry with her first name and hometown so he could call her up. I found that swooningly romantic, yet not without its shades of stalkerish obsession.

I don't know that I've ever stalked anyone myself - but then there's that mortifying thing (and this happened in Dallas, too) where a certain person is just there every time you turn around, and you're convinced it must look like you're stalking them. And the more you talk to them to convince them it's just a coincidence, the more idiotic you feel. Once on a backpacking trip in Asia, I kept running into this Swiss guy over and over again in different towns - it was a well-established tourist route, so it wasn't really surprising. But it must have looked suspicious. I swear, Uber-Hot Swiss Ski Instructor With That Bored French Accent And Matching Disaffected Air Who Could Spend The Off-Season Working As A Ricky Martin Lookalike, I was not - not - stalking you. Vraiment.

So how about you - have you ever purposefully or accidentally stalked someone? What's the most outrageous thing a guy has done to get your attention, or vice versa? Did it work? Any examples from romance novels?

Edit: It's all about whether the attentions are welcome, isn't it? I mean if a guy says to you:

"I will find you. No matter how long it takes, no matter how far, I will find you."

It could either be the creepiest thing you've ever heard, or the sexiest!

If it's this guy ... *thud* ... definitely the sexiest.

I'm shamelessly borrowing it from my good friend (and roomie!) India, because Ms. Eloisa James came up with the phrase while giving India pitch pointers and it quickly became our battle cry.

RWA was phenomenal. Meeting those of you who were there was awesome, because without exception, everyone was even more fantastic in person than I'd imagined. (Geez, I'm already running out of superlatives, and I've barely started the blog!) I was so proud of everyone who pitched and got requests and networked their little badges off. There were so many great moments, I can't begin to list them all. Well, okay, I can begin, and I'll just have to save the stuff I forget for a later post:

Highlights:

• High tea with Julia Quinn and Eloisa James and several of their esteemed readers
• Meeting more of my idols at the literacy booksigning
• CM's birthday bash - after which we caught a pimped-out limo for our Harry Potter showing
• Pitching and plotting with the Manuscript Mavens
• Lisa Kleypas' inspiring keynote address, and Lisa Jackson's Hot Tamales giveaway
• Attending the Avon off-site booksigning with several Fanlitters, including a couple of the Romance Vagabonds
• Hanging out in the pitch room with any/all of the above
• Hanging out in the bar with any/all of the above

Of course, there was the RWA bylaws drama to keep things interesting, and the nerves inherent to pitching and networking - I barely slept, and I'm sure I lost at least three pounds! All in all, though, it was an amazing weekend. I'm so glad I went. Sitting in that huge ballroom in a sea of women (with a few men here or there) who create, publish, and promote this genre - it was an amazing feeling, and so inspiring. Now I just have to focus all that energy and get back down to work. And tackle the mountain of laundry ....

This will be my last post for a week or so ... off to Dallas! I'm so excited, but I haven't packed a thing.

I've been off in the woods for a few days, so I'm late doing my bit to notify the masses, but if you haven't already heard, we're having a little to-do for CM's birthday on the evening of the 11th. India, Sara and I are hosting a little cocktail hour in India's and my room from 7-8:30ish. Afterwards, we're off to see the new Harry Potter movie! If you haven't already RSVPed on India's blog or to one of us by email, feel free to leave a note here. We'll let you know how to find out the room number, or which theater/showtime to get tickets for on Fandango.

Hope lots of you can make it to the party and/or movie! Those who won't be in Dallas ... *sniff.* You'll be missed.