AletheaKontis.com

Last week I posted a picture of my parents from Xmas for a Caption This Photo Contest. Thanks to all you joksters who jumped in with your two pennies…you guys are a laugh riot!

My all-around favorite caption, of course, came from my sister…it was sort of a play on the dead baby jokes she and my brother collect. But I try to keep this blog PG-13 and fist-fight free, so it’s exempt from the running. (Plus, it’s MY SISTER. It shouldn’t count.)

Check them out if you need a chuckle this morning — there were the requisite fart jokes, some that crossed the border into morbid and disgusting, and one that was even a sort-of play on AlphaOops ( total points for originality, Robert B!). The ones about sock monkeys and tiaras also get cool points for being…well…cool.

It was a tough decision, but I think my favorite posted on the blog was from Bracken:

“Hey Uncle Fred, do you know what happened to the can with Grangran’s ashes? I thought I left it next to to instant cider mix.”

Thanks, Bracken! I’ll email you today and get your info so I can send you a copy of Dark Faith! Congrats!

One of the girls I know from the apartment complex was in the gym this morning — neither of us had been at the gym much since Thanksgiving, so we had a bit to catch up on. I don’t mind chatting, as long as it’s not for the entire hour I’m there — I enjoy using my gym time listening to audiobooks for review or working out the next scene in whatever short story or novel happens to be on my plate at the time.

Happily, we only chatted for about ten minutes before I turned on my iPod and got to work. She asked after my novel, which was sweet. We spoke a bit about the frustrations of losing weight…she said something about other people’s perceptions of her, to which I replied bluntly, “I really don’t care what people think about me.”

Because I don’t.

I know what it’s like, though, because I used to. For a very long time. It starts in grade school and takes the rest of your growing-up life to get over. Some people don’t get over it at all. I am very lucky with all the crazy adventures I have — magic and misery and all — those made me realize how beautiful and amazing and self-sufficient I am. (Because I am pretty awesome, you know.)

And then, right as our conversation was dwindling to an end, she said, “Oh, I’m so glad there are other people who don’t work during the winter.”

Sigh.

This whole issue of perception over a”normal job” has haunted me my entire life. I started working at the movie theatre when I was 16 and had become relief manager by the time I was 18. All through college I was an assistant and promotional manager, pulling down 25K a year, salaried with benefits and winning regional promotional awards, along with a courseload so full I graduated in three years. Granted, on any given day my schedule could be 11am until 4 in the morning, and my parents loathed the fact that I was still asleep at 10am on a Saturday (the time at which Mom inevitably turned on the vacuum). I had zero expenses and probably more money in the bank than they did, but it wasn’t a Real Job.

Fast forward to now. I am currently self-employed. I don’t get a check from someone once a week who takes 30% out for taxes, and I don’t have all those lovely benefits. I don’t drag my butt out of bed and go to a place I hate and pretend to fill a job description from 9 to 5 every day.

BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I DON’T HAVE A JOB.

I sold my last novel for more than I made in a year of being a librarian, yet I still have close friends who make thinly-veiled snide comments about my “lack of employment.” Even the maintenance guys who come to fix the dishwasher say things like, “Gee, must be nice to have Mondays off.”

No, I don’t have Mondays off. I don’t have ANY days off. I just don’t punch a clock and I don’t hate my life. I don’t fit into your box. I never have. And I’m not sorry.

There’s a scene in Bright Star where Mr. Brown explains to the new tenants that if they see him or Mr. Keats staring off into space, that doesn’t mean they are doing nothing; it means they are writing, and they are not to be disturbed. I’m like a turtle who carries my job on my back, everywhere I go. Even when I don’t have something to scribble with, I can always be working, any time of day or night. And I NEED to be, or I can’t afford all those lovely things I used to splurge on when I was being paid by The Man. (Like Dragon*Con.)

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get down this new plot line I came up with at the gym, sometime around the 45 minute mark. God willing and the Creek don’t rise, this will be the next novel…fingers crossed!

Happy Valentine’s Day!

As you know, Valentine’s Day is a holiday celebrated in my family between father and daughter. Every year, my father sends us all something cheesy and wonderful. This year, my gift was a gorgeous Italian hand-carved alabaster paperweight (pictured here). I love it!

Though this is very much my father’s tradition, I suspect my mother had a hand in it, and not just because she signed her name on the card.

My mother happens to be one of the very few people who has read  my favorite story I have ever written to date. I’ve sold it, but I can’t tell you about it yet. All in good time.

I will hint, though, that it might have to do with a certain princess whose heart was to have been put in a box…

Sarah Peduzzi, lovely and sweet blog editor over at Apex Book Company, dropped me a line about a week and a half ago asking if I’d be willing to do a guest post for the site.

Jason Sizemore was the very first person in the world to professionally publish my writing (all the book reviews I’d done for the local paper prior to that had been for free). Because of that I will always hold a special place in my heart for Apex (and Jason), so of course I told Sarah “yes!”

The best part was, I knew exactly what I wanted to talk about. I had just launched the Princess Alethea’s Fairy Tale Theatre podcast project, and since no one knew it was coming, no one had asked me anything about it.I jumped at the chance to do an interview. Who doesn’t like talking about their passions?

Sarah told me I could wait until late March for a slot on the blog, but if I had time right away, I could get the February 10th slot. I had the interview answers to her that Monday.

Click here to read my interview with Sarah about podcasting and my love of fairy tales.

Click here to order your very own signed copy of Beauty & Dynamite (it’s still eligible for the Byte & Sign promotion!)

Click here (and scroll to the bottom) to read some other fun interviews with me.

Click here to read the fun Genre Chick interviews I’ve done with other people.

Click here to see Friday’s xkcd comic.

So…what’s your favorite fairy tale?

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad!

Congrats on surviving 38 awesome years of fun times and freak-outs.

Here’s to 38 more!

xox

Your Princess Daughter
(the middle one)

Yeah, this one’s totally on me — the girl in the first row, on the elliptical machine by the window. My fault entirely. I take full responsibility.

Yes, the second you leave me alone in the room, I will turn down your gawd-awful Today Show until I can’t hear it over my iPod, and I will turn off the overhead lights. Tomorrow I might even turn down the thermostat. That’s right. IN YOUR FACE, PEOPLE.

I am one of those lovely folks who get exercise-induced migraines. (Yes, fun!) The second my blood pressure rises, I start to go blind. The more my eyes strain to see, the more the headache actually hurts. My perfect gym is dark (daylight is fine, as long as it’s not direct sunlight) and cold…and even then, I’d still run with my eyes closed.

Have you ever closed your eyes and listened to the television? Especially daytime talk shows and the morning news? They are YELLING at you. Tune out the words and listen to the tone of voice — every sentence sounds like an accusation. They could be talking about puppy dogs and rainbows and you’d still get stressed out. And we won’t even talk about the volume of commercials, or the shameless screaming they film on the streets of NY to get your attention. It just can’t be healthy.

And I’m positive that turning up my iPod to drown it out isn’t healthy either. My father has worked with guns all his life. I’m surprised he can still hear any of us. I’ve always been very aware of hearing safety. I’m sure my brain’s going to explode eventually from all these headaches, but I’d like the rest of my senses to be tip top, if that’s all right.

If I come into the gym and you’re already happily bopping along, I promise I won’t touch a thing. If you come in after me and decide you want lights or volume, go right ahead. I’m just saying — if you want to know who keeps turning our gym into the Batcave, it’s me. Totally, shamelessly me.

You’re welcome.

Episode 2: “Sharing Joy and Sorrow” (2:30)

This is a great anti-Valentine’s Day tale about a tailor who’s a complete jerk to his wife. I imagine if the Grimms had email in their day, this would be one of those humorous tales that got forwarded to all their coworkers.

The only change I would make to the ending would be: “…and then the tailor got hit by a meteor and his wife won the lottery. The End.” Have a listen and see what you think.

“Sharing Joy and Sorrow” by The Brothers Grimm, read by Alethea Kontis

Princess Alethea's Fairy Tale Theatre: Episode 2 [ 2:30 ] Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

I went to bed with a migraine last night and woke up with it this morning–to say I’m feeling decidedly out of sorts is an understatement. While I hobble like an old woman through my daily chores and decide which fairy tale to read for tomorrow that won’t kill my brain, I thought I’d share with you one of the recipes from our amazing Superbowl Sunday.

There are a bunch of Eagles fans in this apartment, so we didn’t care too much about who was playing the game and concentrated instead on what we were going to eat. Each of us chose a dish to make, so that everyone would be sure to enjoy something.

Our Munchie Menu:
Deviled eggs (Ariell)
Nanny’s potato salad (Kassidy)
Strawberry Pizza (Kassidy)
Spinach & Artichoke Dip (Joe)
Wings (Joe)
Date Layer Bars (Lee)
Mom Kontis’s Sticky Garlic Spare Ribs (Lee)
Buddy Valastro’s Bananas Foster (Joe)

We decided on all of these things earlier in the week and made the definitive list on Saturday — we made sure we had all the recipes and put together a list for the grocery store. And then we realized the dishwasher was broken.

Oh, fun.

I emailed a service request to the apartment complex on Sunday morning, and we headed off to the store.  When we got back, we decided what needed to be prepped first (the Strawberry Pizza crust) — Kassidy started working on that while I did the dishes and Joe cut up the massive pile of ribs we got from Costco into finger-sized pieces.

Kudos to all of us for being an amazing work force — with a kitchen the size of a walk-in closet and no dishwasher, we did a darned fine job and EVERYTHING turned out wonderful. We did scrimp on the chicken wings and bought ready made since we didn’t find any good wings at the store, and we didn’t end up making the bananas foster because we were all SO incredibly tired (and stuffed) by the 3rd Quarter that no one cared.

It was tough to say which dish was the star of the show because everything was so delicious — personally I think WE were the stars of the show for pulling it all off. We all went to bed tired, exhausted and grumpy…but we had a wonderful time.

I put a link to the bananas foster recipe in the menu — here’s the one for Sticky Garlic Spare ribs. The key to this one is getting good spare ribs — the first time we tried this one the ribs were too large and unevenly cut and it was disappointing. This time, it was PHENOMENAL. My mother got a priest drunk to steal this recipe, and it was totally worth it. The best part is how incredibly easy it is to make.

Mom Kontis’s Sticky Garlic Spare Ribs
A bunch of Spare Ribs (boneless are fine–cut finger size, if possible)

Syrup:
2 cups sugar
1 cup water
3/4 cup soy sauce

Boil the ribs for 45 minutes, and then drain. Sprinkle liberally with garlic powder. Pan fry the ribs in syrup (you’ll probably need two pans) until the syrup becomes thick and sticky. (Watch carefully — if the sugar reduces too much, it will burn!)

Enjoy!

In catching up on things that never got finished during the holidays, I was going through some Christmas photos and came across this:

It just begs for a caption contest, doesn’t it? Give me your best shot — post your best caption (or captions) for this in the comments on my website (let’s say…by Valentine’s Day), and I’ll send a copy of the Dark Faith anthology to the one that makes me laugh the most.

I rarely post these caption-needy pics like this — the last one I put up was the famous John & Krissy Scalzi pic from Penguicon in 2009. They are a lot of fun, aren’t they? I really should do these more often!

Obviously, my favorite commercial of Superbowl Sunday was Lord Vader’s VW. I was a bit gutted when I realized they chopped the thing to fit it in…if you only saw it last night, you should really watch the Director’s Cut on YouTube. It’s easy to find — chances are, 42 of your friends already posted it to their Facebook walls (including me).

There were a few others that made me chuckle, a few that made me groan (Eminem, really? Saturns were “Imported from Tennessee” long before your little “Imported from Detroit” gimmick), and some that just flat out disgusted me (I may never eat another Dorito again).

Here is my second-favorite commercial of Superbowl Sunday. Who knew this town had a volcano?