Don't take it personally

Nothing like a steam bath when you're fully clothed and there's nowhere you can take off your clothes without the police getting involved. So much for public places, especially the back patio at Poor Richard's.

I got a surprise when I arrived for lunch. Nancy Jo and Cathryn were there. I hadn't seen them since the Gay Pride Parade and I'm glad the boys surprised me today with the extra company. I had planned to have a quick lunch with the boys and spend the rest of the day in the air conditioned comfort of Rico's Internet cafe sipping a fresh fruit smoothie (called a Liquado at Rico's) and letting my fingers do the racing over the keys and get more of the new novel done, and maybe even finish the editing on last year's novel. Best laid plans and all that stuff.

Over great salads and sandwiches, we plunged into the conversational abyss. We talked about philosophy and religion. I'd always heard that was like setting off an atomic bomb in a tropical paradise. Everyone will hate you for blocking out the sun and moving the white sand beaches into a smoking hole in the middle of a devastated coral atoll, killing all the fish and food for miles around. Good move, Fix. Not good. Cathryn took the conversation personally when we moved into a comparison of different religions outside of Christianity. Nancy Jo, also Christian, was more tolerant. Cathryn wasn't. She got very upset and went inside for a while. When she came back out, she was still so incensed she said she was leaving and asked Nancy Jo to choose where she wanted to be -- on the back patio with us or going with her. Nancy Jo, ever the diplomat, suddenly remembered she was late for a celebration.

Religion in the midst of a friendly conversation? Not a good idea without a flak jacket and a bomb shelter in the middle of an iron mountain.

The boys and I finally moved inside to Rico's, dripping with sweat and hot (not in a good way). We sipped. We talked. We laughed a lot. I didn't get much writing done -- at first. Bear looked at the novel I'm editing and suggested more drag queens and a lot more melodrama, but I nixed that idea. He did say that anything that kept his attention for five whole pages and made him wait for a cigarette was good. He's not a big reader.

After a while, they left for home and I stayed and wrote for another hour or so. I got a lot done, fleshed out a few more scenes, did a little pruning and even wrote some new scenes in between clarifying old ones. I won't end up on the Harlequin shelves, but then I never expected to be there. I'll end up somewhere between romance and mainstream with a hint if the literary and I might even make it past the mid list. Besides, I have a deadline to meet.

More writing tomorrow and a trip in the country with Nel and Michael should round out an otherwise fun and interesting weekend. No talk of religion, although it won't matter tomorrow. We're all pagans.