Update. T-Minus 20 days and counting to the We-Are-Insane (aka Idiots) Vacation.

Training hike: I'll be seeing this guy and his hat a lot.

Last week I told you about beginning to train for our long-distance hike in England. Since then we’ve filled in even more plans and are learning more and more about our conditioning and readiness for this amazing trip. Hot dang! Someone should make a documentary of this—we’d be booked for comedy shows across the country.We have now taken four neighborhood walks each over five miles long. By neighborhood I mean the farming community where we live.  We went around the block the other night—it was seven miles.  We went around our neighbor’s block last Monday—that was a nine-miler.  On that one we carried our spanking new back packs. The construction guys working on the state highway we had to traverse for one of the miles sure gave us an ogle. Not because they thought we were cool, but because the way my chest strap fits (remember we’re talking backpack on a bowling ball here) it squishes things down and out so I could probably put somebody’s eye out.  (I’ll let you figure out that visual.)

The training is going okay. After the nine-mile hike, though, my plantar fasciitis foot burned like a sonuvagun and I could hardly walk that night.  After aspirin, Ben-Gay and a night’s sleep it was fine in the morning except for the one-minute and forty seconds of numbness.  So—off to an orthopedic specialist.  Bottom line is, it takes a long time to heal. So, I’ll go back in a week and see him again – more on that next time!

On a far more interesting note I thought you’d like to see our itinerary. Maybe it will shed a little light on why we’re doing this dopey thing.  First, here’s the mileage per day list:

14; 14.5; 9; 8.5; 12; 12; 13; 14; 11; 11; 14; 9; 12.5; 9.5; 12; 16.

Okay, well, I guess that doesn’t look very enticing. (BTW, my favorite number?  Sixteen miles on the 16^th day. Mark my words: comedy gold.)

But, the rest of the trip we have booked a couple of fun things.  Our first night in London, for example, we have a table at Restaurant Gordon Ramsay. I mean, what the heck? My hubby is a Kitchen Nightmare’s fan – and when it comes right down to it, despite all the F-bombs, Gordon’s just an old softie at heart.  Should be fun and better be good at 90 Pounds per three-course meal!

http://www.gordonramsay.com/royalhospitalroad/history/index.html?slideshow=true

On our last night in London – if we can still crutch our way to Drury Lane – we’re going to see War Horse. If you’ve never seen anything about the stage play of this lovely story check it out here (click on the second video from the top on the right side) http://warhorseonstage.com/videos

In between, we’re staying with all young people in a fab-looking hostel in Liverpool, going on a Magical Mystery tour and, I hope, visiting a fellow author who lives there and helped me several years ago with research on a book I set in the city. I’m as excited about that possibility as I am to see The Cavern Club and Paul McCartney’s house!

It looks as wet as England -- Minnesota farmland after 6" of rain.

So, the preparation continues.  We have yet to stock our first aid kit fully and I have to find a long sleeved wicking fabric t-shirt. But, we have gaiters and sun hats and pants with zip-off legs. We’re definitely getting there. As for the unflattering backpack? Hubby says it’s not that bad—I can just unclip the front strap for pictures.  Oh, hahaha.

Next week—the final word before we leave.  Which may well be “Don’t forget my kneepads—I’m crawling across England!”  (Actually, someone suggested a SEGWAY—we’re thinking about it.)  So, where are you all going on summer vacay this year?  I’d love to know!

I’m ambivalent about the holiday we call “Mother’s Day,” and now that everybody has called Mom and gotten flowers, I will air some of that ambivalence. For one day a year, Mom gets breakfast in bed (maybe), or she’ll find the house clean by virtue of Dad and kids pitching in. Maybe she’ll be queen for a day, get some cards, a few flowers.

Lovely gestures, and no doubt they are the result of sincere sentiment on the part of those who make them.

But what about motherhood generally—parenting generally—and what about the other 364 days in the year? When roughly one in four children in this country are born to unwed mothers, are we really respectful of motherhood if those mothers are earning only 70 cents on the dollar compared to a similarly educated fellow? Are the women having these children (among whom I number) respectful of motherhood (of parenting, more accurately) when they take it on without legally obligating some fellow to the role of father?

Are we respectful of parenting when we’ll give parents day care vouchers, so they can hand their infants and toddlers over the strangers, while the parent heads off to a minimum wage job? We won’t give those parents the extra $400 a month that the day care costs, but we’ll separate them from their child all day, five days a week, so they can “provide” for that child.

Are we respectful of motherhood when maternity leave is a whopping six weeks? Ask any OB/GYN if—when sleep is in short supply, and income radically reduced—the body recovers from a full term gestation and the onset of lactation in six weeks.

Happy Mother’s Day?

At the bottom of my rant (for this is a rant, and I apologize) is a discontent with a society that values material self-sufficiency over emotional health, to the detriment of women, children, and those whose contribution is intangible (grandmas, for example, or poets). From my perspective, child care, teaching, social work, and counseling ought to be prestigious and highly valued professions. The people in these fields are assuming tremendous responsibilities for our communities and for our futures, and yet, we generally fund them poorly and work them excessively.

I work in a child welfare courtroom, and I will go to my grave believing that if the community could direct its resources such that my courtroom was no longer needed—nobody needed a judge to put them in foster care, no family’s situation was allowed to become so dire that the children were in danger—then the juvenile delinquency court would also have a lot less business, the child support enforcement court would slow to a trickle, and the criminal and domestic courts would see a lot less business too.

If we valued our children and the people who care for them the way we say we do, then the world would be a better place.

What aren’t I seeing about this picture? What’s wrong with giving people a year of a family leave when a baby shows up, such that between two parents, no child has to be in daycare for at least the first year of life? Can we afford to look after our children this way?

How often have you been asked this question. “What’s so good about reading?” It’s usually from someone who doesn’t know the joy of reading.

It might have even been a family member or your spouse. My DH will only read if it’s a shoot em up or he’s totally out of options. Can you imagine a life without books?

Those who aren’t readers – don’t. They don’t read, they don’t pick up books by someone’s reading chair out of curiosity, and they wouldn’t know how to pick out a present in a bookstore. How is that?

As far back as I can remember books have been my friends, my family, my teacher, my inspiration and my answers. Depending on the genre they’ve been entertainment, escape, solace or enlightenment.

From the classics to kids’ mysteries like Hardy Boys, Tom Swift and Nancy Drew I was enthralled with the settings. I wanted a life of action. I wanted to go along with my friends to solve mysteries or travel with them to Europe or outer space. I wanted to share with someone all the totally useless facts and figures I memorized from my favorite Astronomy book, like how many days it took each planet to circle the sun or the names of a planet’s moons. (Totally geeky stuff.)

There was the desire to escape my real world and be accepted into the exciting world of my friends. As I grew older curiosity turned to the desire to know the characters in books, to understand why they acted the way they did. To see what I could learn from their lives. And figure out how I could get a life like that. They were inspiration and companion.

After I married I started reading romance – historicals by Kathleen Woodwiss, and every Nora Roberts book I could get my hands on.

You could always count on Nora’s books to portray a man and a woman overcoming their problems to find love and most of the time (like with the MacGregors) you got a peek into how a big loving family was supposed to be. (Only child.) Regardless of the subject matter and setting of the In Death books she writes as J.D. Robb, she’s true to her core story – how a man and a woman can overcome life’s challenges and their differences and find true love.

So inspiration and instruction has been a big part of my reading experience. Who wouldn’t be inspired by Rourke (David Gandy gets my vote as Rourke.) And I’ve told our own Grace Burrowes – to me she’s the historical Nora because of the way she portrays romance amid the large familial experience. What other genre inspires young women more?

There is so much to gain from reading. Maybe that’s why as writers we care so much about literacy issues. When a person can’t read, or distains reading, much of the world is closed to him.

There are some authors I read for sheer entertainment – Evanovich is one, but most of the time I expect to learn something, to come away with a message, some insight into my own life.

How about you? What do you say when someone asks you “What is it about books anyway?”

My muse has been MIA for a few weeks.  Trying to coax her back, has been difficult. None of my sure-fire tricks are working and it’s getting frustrating.

First, I tried free writing, which resulted in a decent word count, but not one word to move my present project forward. Then, I tried writing from a different viewpoint character.  Absolutely nothing useable came from that effort.

Classical music, which normally works, didn’t. In desperation, I tried R & B from the 60s, 70s and 80s. Nope. Still much too distracting for my muse who sang along, but didn’t settle to any plot or character point. Same thing when I tried smooth jazz. She listened and enjoyed the tunes, but refused to do any real work.

Maybe she’s bored, I decided, work on something new. Using prompts from one of my craft books, I tried a short story, a memoir, and a poem. None of those moved her. Editing an earlier book didn’t entice her back either.

I admit I’m at a loss and am looking for help. Other than chocolate and alcohol, how do you get your muse back in writing mode?

I’m so pleased to introduce everyone to my friend and fellow debut author, Maxine Mansfield. Maxine lives in Alaska and, trust me, the long summer days and longer winter nights have been nothing short of amazing in feeding her astounding imagination. Her hilarious-yet-somehow-tender, ultra-unique erotic fantasy, Touched by the Magic, was released on May 4, and I can guarantee you’ve never read another book like it. I mean, when a gnome’s blow-up doll plays a vital role in a story about paladins and dragons—unique is almost not a strong enough word! But no worries, the central love story is smokin’ hot and still touching. This is one erotica I might let my mama read!Here’s a little bit about “Touched by the Magic”

New to The Academy of Magical Arts, Briarlarn Tumbleweed wants to learn the art of a True Healer, but her nerves get the best of her when she’s paired in the sexually dynamic healing class with Uthiel Stoutheart, Paladin of the Realm. Between burning off his eyebrows and overturning a candle on certain exposed male parts, she isn’t making a very good impression. But how can she focus when Uthiel is strong, brave, and touches Briar in a way that leaves her weak in the knees, quivering with pleasure, and begging for more?

Falling in love with the accident-prone but talented Briar was not what Uthiel had planned, but life with the sexy healer is adventurous, hilarious, mind-blowingly stimulating, and clearly his destiny. His soul awakens while taking her to new heights of ecstasy, yet he can’t allow his own pleasure. There’s no getting around it—he must leave The Academy and pursue his quest to right the wrongs done to his people if he can ever hope to find happiness with Briar.

But is their love strong enough to mend the magic so desperately needed to preserve their world, and that touches both their souls with a searing heat?

Maxine agreed to answer a few questions for us today—and she’s going to give a copy of Touched By the Magic to one lucky commenter.  Enjoy!

Touched by the Magic, has been published by The Wild Rose Press’s Scarlet Rose line. Have you always planned to be an erotic romance author? Tell us what makes TBTM a little different from the “usual” erotica fare.

I really never planned on being an erotic romance author, it just kind of happened. Touched by the Magic started out as a ten page writing exercise. The critique group I am part of was challenged to write the first chapter of an erotica, and by the time I was done, I realized I really liked the genre. It was a fun way to combine my love for history, fantasy, and sizzling hot love scenes. It really isn’t the typical erotica you are used to seeing, however. Though there are more than enough naughty antics going on to keep your heart pounding and your brow sweating, there is even more laughter, and conflict, and magic, and quests.

You had a fun inspiration for this book. Would you share it and tell us how you expanded on the idea?

I am an online gamer at heart. I have played Everquest 1, Everquest 2, World of Warcraft,  Vangaurd,  War Hammer, Dungeons and Dragons…etc…You get the drift. So, my stories are based on that kind of world. A world filled with honor and chivalry, quests and love. A world inhabited by Humans, Barbarians, Elves, Dwarfs, Trolls, Ogres, and Gnomes. Oh yes, we must never forget the Gnomes.

Tell us a little about your hero and heroine, Briar and Uthiel.

All of her life, twenty-one year old half-elf Briarlarn Tumbleweed dreamed of becoming a True Healer. Not just a healer of the body and the mind, but also a healer of the soul. The Academy of Magical Arts offers her the opportunity to do just that. But, Briar has a secret. A secret that if discovered could cause her immediate expulsion from The Academy. Can she possibly trust her Healing the Soul class partner, Uthiel, to remedy the situation? And, if she does, can she trust him without losing her heart in the bargain?

Uthiel Stoutheart is one of the human Paladins of Albrath—a protector of the realm and a rescuer of fair damsels in distress. When paired up with Briar in a sexually dynamic healing class, he finds that rescuing some damsels may be tougher than he thought, and at the same time, a lot more fun. Though she burns off his eyebrows and dumps hot wax in his lap, there is still something about the woman Uthiel just can’t walk away from. But then, Uthiel has secrets of his own. Secrets that could pull them apart forever, or forge an unbreakable bond.

Perhaps the most memorable secondary character in your book is Leeky Shortz. He has a very unusual perspective on life and a thoroughly unique (to put it mildly) way of speaking as well. Tell us a little about Leeky and how he came to be. Or, if you think he’ll semi-behave, he could answer part of this question himself.

Leeky Shortz behave? Umm, not likely. Oh, and don’t let Leeky hear you call him secondary! He considers himself to be the star. Leeky is a gnome, but not just any gnome. He is a panty stealing, blow-up doll loving, glove wearing, always interrupting, speech rambling, rogue-of-a gnome handyman at The Academy. He is also a loyal friend all the way from the top of his almost bald head to the tips of his hairy little toes. Leeky’s moto is ‘Live life like your arse is on fire,’ and he takes it seriously.  Oh, and did I forget to mention he’s immortal?

How would you pitch your book to someone who doesn’t read either fantasy or erotica?

I think I would ask them if they like comedies. Then, I would tell them if they enjoyed movies like A Knight’s Tale with Heath Ledger or Your Highness with Natalie Portman, then they would love my book. It is a comedic, sexy romp, with an old English feel mixed generously with magic, dragons, and very unusual characters.

You have a very precise process when it comes to writing, can you describe it for us?

I am a plotter. A complete and total plotter. I don’t write a single word of a story until I’ve plotted every single chapter, including how many scenes there will be.  I even have to have the end complete in my head before I can start. That’s not to say my mind can’t be changed somewhere in the middle. After all, no matter how much you may have planned it, sometimes the dragon really doesn’t have to die.

 What’s been the most exciting part of celebrating your debut novel? What’s next for you?

Finally holding the finished book in my hands. I can’t even begin to explain how that felt. Let’s just say there were tears involved and leave it at that. As far as what’s next, Touched by the Magic is the first in a six book series set at The Academy of Magical Arts. The second book, Tempted by the Storm is due out sometime in September. Also, I have a novella coming out later this year. It’s called Served, and is part of The Wild Rose Press’s “Boys of Summer” series.

Thank you so much for having me, and happy reading…Maxine

Quiz: who is the meanest mother ever?

A)    The evil queen from Snow White (stepmother, but close enough)

B)    Joan Crawford of Mommie Dearest fame

C)    Ralphie’s mom from Christmas Story (you’ll shoot your eye out!)

Answer: None of the above.

Actually, for the record—I am the MEANEST MOM EVER! At least that’s what my children tell me at least once a week. More if I’m really doing my job right.

Before I had kids, I remember seeing other people with children and thinking, “Holy Shit, I am never going to let my kids act like that!” None of that pouty back talk or running wild in public. My children were going to be polite, well-behaved, and respectful. They would do their chores and homework without complaining. Their rooms would remain spotless at all times. They would not throw tantrums in the checkout line if they didn’t get candy. And they would never, ever, ever never whine.

Instead our relationship would be one of harmony and mutual respect. My children would hang on the pearls of wisdom I would impart while I would revel in their innocent joie de vivre and spontaneity.

Fast forward to today. Let’s just say, my ideas on parenting were a bit—shall we say—askew and leave it at that.

So, In honor of Mother’s Day this Sunday, I want to hear your meanest mother stories.

Did you say no when they asked to keep the puppy/kitten/gerbil/snake that just happened to follow them home? Have you told them they can shave their heads over your dead  body? Or screamed ‘never in a million years’ when they begged to have cake and ice cream for breakfast? (OK, I let my kids eat cake for breakfast. I figure it’s all the same stuff as in pancakes and we eat those as part of the most important meal.)

But if you answered yes to any of those questions, then you just might be able to win the crown of meanest mom ever!

Write in with a good mean mom story, and I’ll enter you in a drawing for a copy of my latest historical-paranormal HEIR OF DANGER and a Meanest Mom Ever coffee mug from Café Press!

There’s a reason the word “idiots” is in the title of this blog.  It isn’t because I’m really an idiot. It’s because . . .

Well, no,  it’s because I’m an idiot.

You see, I talked my husband into taking me on a trip to England. To visit Buckingham Palace? The Tower of London? Hyde Park? The red, double-decker buses?  Oh no. It’s to hike. 190 miles in 16 days.  And nope, I’m not joking.

We’re going on The Coast to Coast walk from a town 3 hours north of London on the coast of the Irish Sea called St. Bees, across the Lake District to a town called Robin Hood’s Bay. I discovered this walk in 2005 while reading a Smithsonian magazine. Anything in the Smithsonian has to be culturally fabulous and edifying for you, right? From that moment on, I had my heart set on “someday” taking this trek.

Well, “someday” has arrived. This all seemed like such a good idea for about 6 ½ years, while I wasn’t certain I’d ever really do it. Here’s the problem now that we’ve decided to embark on this hare-brained trip. Up until two years ago, I could have hopped a plane anytime and taken on the walk. DH and I walked everywhere and I was running 5Ks. We’d hiked in nearly every state park in Minnesota, we’d hiked in Alaska – on real mountains.   Walking across England? Sure it wouldn’t exactly be easy peasy, but we would be able to do it with a little fortitude.

Fast forward to now. We leave for England on June 6^th.  I’m excited, truly I am—idiots get real excited about the things they do. But, I am permanently stuck with this wish-come-true. We have hotels booked all across the UK. We have plane tickets. I have a new backpack. Suddenly, I have to train my sorry butt for something I’m no longer in perfect shape to do. (Unless you count looking like a bowling ball—in which case I expect someone could just place me at the top of a hill and roll. Barring that, I’ve had no choice but to get my unsuspecting feet into shape. I started with a list of what I’m working with, Pros and Cons.

CONS: I am 56. While I don’t consider that old, let’s just say hormones and a writer’s lifestyle have changed my body type from “trim” to “adipose augmented,” and manufacturers do not make either hiking pants with zip-off legs or rain suit pants for bowling balls.

Plantar fasciitis. I’ve been battling a severe, painful case of this since January. There’ve been shoe inserts, podiatrist visits and cortisone. This has curtailed any running and put a damper on early training. In a phrase: this is gonna be interesting.

PROS:  We have incentive. At the end of the hike I get to fulfill a bucket list item I never thought I would: visit Liverpool. This should be huge incentive to finish the walk, and it’ll be a thrill if I don’t have to crawl down Penny Lane.

We will be prepared. I’ve studied the hiking route multiple times and am making detailed lists of our needs—ahead of time. All of this proves we are not going forth with rose-colored glasses. Blinders maybe, but no rosey lenses.

We are training and have been for a month. This past weekend we took our first long walks – 11.5 and 7.5 respectively. How did that go, you might ask? Remember when you were little and your mom took you shopping for hours until the balls of your feet felt like they were on fire and you were walking on a gazillion little rocks? Yeah, that’s how it felt by mile ten. Of course, the severe thunderstorm didn’t help.

Since I’m dragging you all along on this training venture, I’ll share a short list of do’s and don’ts for building up your walking stamina. You know, just in case you want to do something like this one day.

Do’s and Don’ts and Hints for long-distance walk training

• Do put your rain gear on when it starts to drip – not after it starts to pour.
• Don’t leave your boot laces tied only up to your ankles after it starts to rain
• Do walk through deep, sudden-forming puddles once your boots have an inch of water inside. When’s the last time you splashed around in the rain like a kid?
• Don’t leave Cracklin’ Oat  Bran cereal in your pocket, it doesn’t stay crisp in a severe thunderstorm
• Do know the idiosyncrasies of your time-keeping devices. For example: to know the time on my digital watch you must add one hour for DST and subtract 7 minutes to compensate for it being fast.
• Don’t ask your husband more than once every fifteen minutes how far the GPS says you’ve walked now.
• Remember that cattle will gallop to a fence to stare at you if want to get a great wildlife photo. Bonus: there’s nothing funnier than galloping steers-unless it’s a real stampede and there’s no fence.
• Remember that it annoys your hiking partner to turn off the GPS 1.5 miles from your destination.

Next week, I’ll continue this saga with some anecdotes from the road. Hey, if I have to suffer—so do you!

So. What’s the strangest, hardest, most fun wish you’ve ever fulfilled? Did the reality of living your dream meet the anticipation? ( ‘Yes’ answers would be very uplifting.)

It’s no secret that most writers are voracious readers and I’m no exception. Writing has definitely decreased my number of books per year I devour, but not my yearning for a secluded woodland spot where time halts and I’m surrounded by ten stacks of books. Ah, writerly fantasies.

Anyhoo. Without further ado about nothing:

“Big-hearted Chloe Camden is the queen of her universe until her best friend shreds her reputation and her school counselor axes her junior independent study project. Chloe is forced to take on a meaningful project in order to pass, and so she joins her schools struggling radio station, where the other students dont find her too queenly. Ostracized by her former BFs and struggling with her beloved Grams mental deterioration, lonely Chloe ends up hosting a call-in show that gets the station much-needed publicity and, in the end, trouble. She also befriends radio techie and loner Duncan Moore, a quiet soul with a romantic heart. On and off the air, Chloe faces her loneliness and helps others find the fun and joy in everyday life. Readers will fall in love with Chloe as she falls in love with the radio station and the misfits who call it home.”

As I thought about the post today, I asked myself WHY I loved this book, and found I was sounding like an agent or editor. The voice.

But that wasn’t enough–quantify! Quantify! (have been a therapist tooo long)

I love it because the characters seem so very real, it’s almost as if your reading someone’s journal, with their personal thoughts and self laid bare.

I love the unique setting; the radio station, and the struggle of remaking oneself. This is especially difficult in high school and I felt it was very well done.

Shelley Coriell’s writing is literary, yet extremely real, so it should appeal to all readers imho.

In short, it rocks.

To prove it, I’m giving away a copy to one lucky commenter. If you love ya, or have a girl who loves ya-this book is for you.

`Last week I made a surprising discovery. I was sitting in my sunroom trying to write, when something caught my eye out the window. At first, I thought it was a large, stray cat – the animal’s movement sure seemed cat-like. It would have to be a cat with a death wish though, since we have a large, male German shepherd as part of our family. Instead, it turned out to be a gorgeous red fox. A few seconds later, I realized it was a mother fox, because out of our back woods popped four sweet, adorable kits. It was love at first sight.

I sat mesmerized, watching the fuzzy little rascals roll around playing and nipping at each other. They were pouncing at each other, pouncing at the bugs, and pouncing at the air. Heck, they were pouncing just for the sake of pouncing. Evidently, the class of the day was Pouncing 101.

Now, don’t ask me why, but I was downright giddy with excitement. It was like National Geographic in my own back yard. And I’m not even a big animal lover. Really. I’m not. But for some reason, I became obsessed with capturing my newfound friends on film. I ran around the house searching for our Nikon camera, the one with the best zoom. It took me several attempts but I managed to snap a few good shots. (Ignore the dates on the pix, camera was wonky).

The best part – I had an awesome morning writing after that. Don’t really know why. Perhaps it woke me up. Perhaps it got my adrenaline pumping. Maybe it brought me back to when my own kids were little. I haven’t really figured it out yet, but all I know is I feel happier when I see them playing on our back hill. I’ve seen them a number of times since the first sighting and every time I see them I feel like all is right with the world and the words flow.

From the information I’ve looked up on the internet, the kits are about one month old. They’ll stay with their mother and in the area until they are between six and twelve months old. Seven months is usually the average for dispersing and making their own families. I just hope the dog and the foxes learn to live together harmoniously. So far, so good.

So, has anything odd ever inspired your muse? Was it a song, a situation, a movie, a news story, or something as weird as a family of foxes? Come on. Out with it. Spill.

Growing up I was fascinated with the English language. Mostly because I constantly came close with my word usage – but not close enough. Words and phrases like affidavit and statute of limitations became (and I swore I was right back then) after David and statues of limitations. I was never too interested in writing back then, though I loved creating poetry.

In the intervening years that I married and had kids. During that time, I’ve watched the English language adapt to the arrival of the Internet, cell phones – and the combination of teens on both. I’m still in awe of the bastardization that happened so quickly. A whole new language has developed.

I’m not a big phone person to begin with and could cheerfully not carry a cellphone – but for the kids sake I had to learn and adapt myself. But it doesn’t come naturally.

I don’t like texting and don’t like trying to interpret what my kids are saying to me.  At least some of it’s transferable to Twitter!

Another blessing is that some of these shortforms are intuitive, such as k and kk for okay.

And some are in everyday use like LOL for laughing out loud and IMO for in my opinion.

But then there are other ones, such as:

• DWBH Don’t worry, be happy
  
• F2F or FTF Face to face
• FWIW For what it’s worth
• FYEO For your eyes only
• GLHF Good luck, have fun
• HAK Hugs and kisses (since when did XOX go out of style?)
• HAND Have a nice day (I so couldn’t get this one)
• HTH  Hope this helps
• IIRC If I remember correctly
• IKR I know, right?
• IU2U It’s up to you
• IYKWIM If you know what I mean
• NAGI Not a good idea
• NMU Not much, you?
• NTS Note to self (uhm, how about actually write the note instead?)
• OH Overheard
• PTB Please text back
• SSDD Same stuff, different day
• TMI Too much information
• TIME Tears in my eyes
• VSF Very sad face – and what ever happened to ?
• WB Welcome back
• WTH What the heck?
• WYCM Will you call me?
• ZOMG Oh my god (sarcastic) – my all time favorite.

HTH – FWIW I OH TMI NAGI IYKWIM.  SRSLY I’M SMH & LMBO! Oh & DWBH HAND!

Are we really thinking this is a step in the right direction? This type of language is no longer only on cellphones and Twitter – it’s everywhere!  Progress or a step back? What do you think?