Notes from the Sunshine Coast

This is not a koala. No matter how long I stared at it, I could not turn it into a koala.

I have no idea what this means. I'm not sure that I want to know what this means. 

These two were excellent guides along the coastal track in the Noosa National Forest. 

...and made it all the way to Alexandria Bay, where the sand makes an oddly pleasing squeaking sound with every step you take. We found out after the fact that this place is clothing optional. Luckily, no one was scarred by unexpected images of a stranger's dangly bits. 

But it's not always sunny on the Sunshine Coast. Here's a weather report...

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What I Did and Did Not Expect About Australia

We've officially been here for more than 24 hours. Here's what I DID anticipate...

We are living above our station. Everything is white or glass and we were immediately informed to give the grand piano a wide berth, as it is a "family treasure". One of the first things the owner of the home said when we arrived was, "Oh, you have little ones." This was discussed ahead of time and I, in no way, sprung my children's existence on the homeowner. But she had a hard time disguising her fear. So we are living with the near-constant mantra of don't touch anything. Said things include this...

and this...

So we find ourselves in the awkward position of being grateful for our accommodations, while also wishing they were a little shittier. I know, woe is me. 

Australian trees are better than American trees. Not only are they home to fruit bats and cockatoos and other things that I don't know the names of, but which also provide a nice change from Boise's ever-increasing horde of squirrels, but just look...

Americans are trashy in more ways than one. I've long suspected that Americans produce far more waste (I didn't say bodily, get your head out of the toilet) than residents of other countries. This has been confirmed by the presence of teeny tiny trash cans bins. It's sad that my family fills this amount of space with waste multiple times in any given day. We need to work on that.

And here's what I did NOT expect...

Nougat! Am I the only one with an aversion to nougat? Who developed the word nougat? Do they think that sounds appetizing? We don't yet know if we'll have time to take the nougat tour, but if we do, we could actually see nougat being hand-made!

I'd make a shitty spy. For years, I wanted to be a spy. Don't laugh, I'm serious. But I can't even unknowingly smuggle an apple. At some point I'll be ready to tell the full story, but at present I'm still too traumatized. For now, let's just say I'm on the watch list...

I'll leave you with a short (one and a half-minute) video.

More on Australia later. For now, I wish you a g'day. 

Only God Can Fudge Me

Does her tattoo have the word fudge in it? I inched closer. 

Fudge me. It said something about fudge me

That can’t be right. Can it? 

We stood in a foot of water at the edge of a lake. This was my first group-camping trip. Friends had invited us, and we knew they had invited other friends, as well. But those other friends also invited other friends, who invited other friends and relatives. The result was a colony of adults and kids camping along a reservoir. The fudge me lady represented the greatest degree of separation between me and any other member of this group. I wasn’t even sure of her name. But gosh, I thought, if she has a tattoo with the word fudge in it, she must have a great sense of humor. The top of her swimsuit obscured my full view of the words along her upper back. I decided I had to ask. 

“Excuse me, I’m trying to see your tattoo. What does it say? Something about fudge?” I smiled, as disarmingly as possible. 

Top 5 Marketing Tips for Indie Authors

This blog first appeared on The Huffington Post

My fellow writers often ask my advice on various aspects of writing and publishing, not because I've enjoyed great success (though I have enjoyed moderate success), but because I've tried just about everything. I've run discount promotions, blog tours, and pricey print ads; participated in television interviews, spoken at book clubs, and performed on stage at comedy events. Every step is a learning experience. Different strategies work for different authors, but here are my top five. Some of these relate more to the sale of ebooks than print, because when it comes to sales, that's where I've had the most success. There are many aspects that come into play, and these are just a few, but assuming the content of a book is decent, of course, here's what I recommend for increasing sales.

1. Kick Ass Cover. Your book is already out, so this doesn't apply to you, right? Wrong. If you have a good book with a mediocre cover, it would be worth your time to redo the cover and re-release the book. Your cover must be eye-catching, intriguing, and a little edgy. Those were my main goals (along with a cover that shows well as a thumbnail) when speaking with my graphic design artist for my first cover.

What You Need to Know About the Boob Hair

  • To be clear, the Boob Hair is not a hair that grows from the boob. On the contrary, it is a hair that originates from the head of the owner of the aforementioned boobs. 
  • At some point, the hair detaches from the head and migrates south toward the cleavage. This is where the hair makes the transition to official Boob Hair. 

"I know where I'm headed," said the Boob Hair. 

How to Properly Celebrate Making the NEW YORK TIMES Best Seller List

Last week I saw a post on Facebook congratulating Jen Mann for hitting the New York Times best seller list for her fantastic book People I Want to Punch in the Throat. I adore this book, but it really should be banned. You can read more about that HERE.

Dear Little Boy, Stop Farting with Your Mouth

Some days I like to get my failure out of the way early. It feels good to really suck at something in those morning hours and know that I have a chance (albeit slim) of finding some measure of success later in the afternoon.

This morning I sucked at dropping my kids off at school. It started with trying to park in a space too small. I felt like this:

Interview with Author Bonnie Dodge

AK Turner: Thanks for joining me, Bonnie. Let's talk about your latest book Waiting. Is it about leaves?

Bonnie Dodge: You would think so, wouldn’t you, by looking at the cover. Actually, the story takes place in a small fictitious town called Aspen Grove. The leaves on the cover are aspen leaves, so bright and colorful. Also, some of the characters in the book leave, but you’ll have to read it to find out where they go and why they leave.


This essay first appeared in the anthology Little White Dress

I’m not the frilly sort. 

I’m bling-free in a sparkly world. 

I do not own a set of pearls. 

The first dress I bought was a hot little number.  White, simple, short, tight.  If I’m going to suddenly believe in marriage, I reasoned, I might as well also believe that this dress is appropriate.  It was not.  

Why We Must Ban Jen Mann's Book

If you know me, you know that I'm a tireless warrior in pursuit of an improved society. The first step should be requiring people to pass a simple written test before they are allowed to reproduce. The test would include such questions as:
  • Is it okay to sell drugs while running an in-home daycare?
  • Does appropriate parenting include yelling at my child to "Get me a fucking beer!"?
  • Is the best way to keep a baby from screaming to shake them really hard until they stop?
If the applicant answers yes to any of the above questions, then the answer is: No, you may not reproduce. In just a few generations, we could have a vastly better world.
But here's another thing that might help - we need to ban this book...

If we don't, here are the penalties we'll face for our lack of vigilance.

Swingers will take over the world.

Everyone will want to become a swinger, which could result in an additional population from people who shouldn't be spawning. That's what will happen when people read this book, because the irresponsible author makes swinging sound irresistibly attractive. Example from page 48:
Holy shit! This was no ordinary Fourth of July party with co-workers. These people were swingers! And not hot ones. God, why are swingers always so gross? Why is it always fat old men with ponytails and wrinkled women with fake boobs? ... I ran into the house and quickly found the Hubs hoovering appetizers off the food table. "They're swingers! They're swingers! Red alert! They want to have sex with us!" I grabbed the Hubs' plate and threw it in the trash. "Stop eating their food! We can't owe them anything. We cannot be in their debt. They will want to be paid in blow jobs!"