My Husband's Mutombo Moment

So at the end of the season in 1994, the Seattle Supersonics had the best record in the NBA. Their record was 63 wins to 19 losses, George Karl was their coach, Shawn Kemp and Gary Payton, Michael Cage and Nate McMillan, Sam Perkins and Detlef Schrempf were town HEROES. And I mean HEROES.

Much like the Seattle Seahawks this year.

Do you see where I'm going with this?

You probably don't remember 1994, or at least the NBA post-season that year, but I'll tell you what, if you followed the Sonics at all, you KNEW they were headed for the NBA Finals. No question. They were just that good. But wait. Do you remember the Sonics playing in the Finals that year?

Nope, you don't, because they lost before they got there. Not only that, they lost in the first round, to the number 8 seed Denver Nuggets.They won the first 2 games in the best 3 out of 5 series, and they LOST - the first time ever a number 1 seed lost to the number 8 seed. 

I was there for game 5. I may never recover.

Cut my heart out. Just do it.

For those of us who were fans of the Sonics that year (and for years before that, and for years after until some a$$hole from Oklahoma stole them), the image of Dikembe Motumbo rolling around the court at the end of game 5 was the final nail in the coffin of our dreams, made worse by the fact that all his jubilation took place on the floor of Key Arena. See the Sonics green on the floor? It was our HOME COURT.

Jeebus. Twenty-one years later, it still twists something in my gut.

As I said earlier, I attended that game. It was a Sunday afternoon, and I had plans afterwards with my then-boyfriend, a tall, lanky musician who could tell the difference between a football and a basketball, but didn't pay much more attention to sports than that. I think I canceled our post-game date. I was just too upset to go out.

Despite that, he still married me, and a few years ago, a funny thing happened. Our son, who was then in 2nd grade, announced he wanted to play football with his best friend. And, like any rational, caring parent, I said,

HELL NO.

I mean, come on. 2nd grade? No way. I said NO when he asked again in 3rd grade, but by the time he got to 4th grade, I'd made as much peace with the idea as I ever will, and signed the permission slips. I figured he'd take a couple solid hits that first season, and decide swim team had more to offer. (Hello?! Girls in swimsuits!) He's a high school freshman now, and just finished his first season  of high school football. Apparently the idea of delivering solid hits to other boys outweighs the inevitable punishment involved.

Another funny thing happened. During my son's years in club football, my husband became a HUGE fan of the sport. My son's participation in the sport paralleled the Seahawks rise from perennial cellar-dwellers, and though my husband's enthusiasm started with the Lake City Braves, it has since generalized to include our local professional team.

Now, unlike almost EVERYONE ELSE IN THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST, I had to work night shift this weekend, which meant I watched most of the Super Bowl alone in the comfort of my bed. My husband had a slate of parties to hit, and a brand new Pearl Jam Seahawks teeshirt to wear. 

He's still a musician, after all.

I didn't watch most of the 4th quarter, because I was on my way to work, but followed along with my phone, so I saw the final score. And I was...bummed.

You know. 

My team lost the Super Bowl. 

But later, when I talked to my husband, he used a stronger word to describe his reaction. He called the end of the game "devastating". He sounded all hollow when he said it, too, like he couldn't quite believe what had happened. And I knew exactly how he felt. 

He was having a Motumbo Moment.

In all the years I've known my husband, this is the first time he's been passionately excited about a professional sports team, and last night was by far the biggest loss the team has suffered since he started following them. The team wasn't the only one suffering. While I was all, "Hey, I'd rather lose in the Super Bowl than not play in the game," he was alternating between shock and depression.

Poor guy.

I seriously don't think any pro sports gave will ever effect me the way that Sonics-Denver game did. After my Motumbo Moment, I simply don't get that excited about any team. Probably the only thing that would come close is if the Garfield High School Bulldogs lose in the State championship game. They made the playoffs this year, but were no where near the championship, so I think I'm safe. 

But anything is possible.

Anywhoodle, at the risk of sounding completely cynical, I do know the cure for a Motumbo Moment.

Next season.

It'll help to listen to the sportscasters post-game analysis and see the memes as they pop up on Facebook, but really, the best way to put last night behind us will happen next September. I mean, Pete Carroll has the biggest balls in football, and Russell Wilson's the BEST young quarterback out there. The Seahawks - and the city of Seattle - have a few more years before this ride is over.

What about you? Have you ever had a Motumbo Moment? Share it here!

Peace out...

Liv

Cover Reveal & #FridayFun!

Today's post has a little bit of everything. My friend Wren Michaels just got the cover art for her new novella, and it's SO cool! She was gracious enough to share it with me, and I must say it does justice to her story. I had the chance to read Unbearable a couple months ago, and loved it. So this is all about the win! Jump HERE to add Unbearable to your "want to read" shelf on Goodreads.

Blurb

Rose Red will stop at nothing to protect her sister, Snow White, from suffering the same fate as their mother. She vows to kill Hestor, the evil dwarf sorcerer responsible for her death. But a twist of fate lands her on the bottom of a riverbed, and her life in the hands of a mysterious stranger.

Marcus is a beast of a man. He is a bear by day, man by night, thanks to a curse from the evil Hestor. But when he rescues Rose from an icy grave, he unleashes the real animal. Falling for her is dangerous enough, as he must protect the secret of his curse. But she may just be the key to getting his kingdom back as she breaks one spell and puts him under another.

Bio

Wren Michaels hails from the frozen tundra of Wisconsin where beer and cheese are their own food groups. But then a cowboy swept her off her feet and carried her away below the Mason-Dixon line where she promptly lost all tolerance for snow and cold. They decided they’d make beautiful babies together and so they did. And they got it right on the first try. Now Wren lives happily ever after in the real world and in the worlds of her making, where she creates book boyfriends for the masses to crave.

Wren's Contact Info

https://www.facebook.com/authorwrenmichaels
https://wrenmichaels.wordpress.com/
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24721125-unbearable
Twitter: @authorwren

My own work is going well. I'm following along my business plan, keeping up with three blog posts and about 4k words a week. My agent & I are prepping Aqua Follies to be released into the wild - or at least sent out on submission - and I have a cunning plan for the weekend involving my teenagers, my front garden, and a bunch of pruning tools. 

Life could be a lot worse!

And, in honor of a certain football game that's going to be played on Sunday, I thought I'd throw this in so you can see where my loyalties lie. Go Seahawks!

 

Home Town Pride and the Perfect Cup of Coffee

See? It doesn't rain all the time.

So this post has no agenda. I'm not going to tell you about business plans or writing craft or some book you really ought to read. For just a few hundred words here, I'm going to squee! Because I live in a pretty cool place - and that's not just because a certain football team pulled a miracle out of their collective asses on a recent Sunday afternoon.

Don't even ask me how many times I listened to Macklemore's Can't Hold Us yesterday.

A couple months ago, my agent Margaret hit Seattle for a brief layover on her way to a conference. I picked her up at the airport and we drove into town to meet one of her other clients for lunch. Tracy writes mysteries based around a yoga studio - her newest, A Killer Retreat, just released - and as the three of us explored the city, both Tracy & I pointed out locations from our books.

That's right. It wasn't, "Oh Margaret, look over there. It's the Space Needle."

We were all, "Hey, right there is where so-and-so got killed," or "Up that block is where Ryan's parents' live."

(psst...Ryan's parents live only in my mind, and in the pages of a book...)

When you think of Seattle, what comes to mind? Rain? Coffee? Flannel shirts and hiking books? My Seattle has all that, along with really smart people who like to read books and watch movies. There's an ocean, a Sound, islands, two mountain ranges, and a whole bunch of lakes that regularly blow my mind with their beauty. There's a culture of politely independent thinking that some call the Seattle Freeze, but I tend to think of as doing my thing without getting in anyone else's way.

There's a mosque a couple blocks from my house, and there's a country band that rehearses in my basement. (The Fentons...They're awesome.) There's a surprising history of police corruption I learned about in my research for my novel Aqua Follies, and there's a stronger history and tradition of good jazz music that I hope to explore in an upcoming project. Our basketball team was stolen - I still can't watch an NBA game without getting pissed off - and our football team's gonna play for the Super Bowl again this year.

And yeah, you can get some pretty good coffee in this town.

Writing forces me to learn a city in ways I otherwise wouldn't, and on one level, the stories I set in Seattle are more like love letters. This is a cool place, and I want to share bits of it people otherwise wouldn't see.

Go Hawks!
Liv

If you've got a favorite city, or have set a book in your home town, tell us about it in the comments. Or if, you know, you just like coffee...

Cool photo of a not-so-attractive building.