Random thoughts of a writery girl

Blog-a-rific

2011-07-24T18:08:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile.

I've dusted the rabble off of my shoulders, washed the chunks of life vomit out of my hair and I have arrived on the other side shiny, squeaky and incredibly ready to get back to bizness.

Writing bizness, that is...(duh you say as the single file line is instructed to purchase the golden ticket that will allow you one great slap of my forehead because I know those of you who may still read this are non-idiots.)

First off, it feels like I should say that I apologize for not blogging for awhile, or for spilling my crazy rambled personal self doubt, through my precious writing life yes, do I have the gnawing thought to erase the last for or so posts? Abso-fucking-lutely, Mister Big. In truth, I'm not and embarrassed and I am not sorry. It happened, I learned from the encyclopedia whalluped at my head from life's stoic hands, but, it was what I needed to do.

And with this last year under my belt, (scoffing at conventional time calenders in lieu of the conception of my revolved situation until the time when the world stopped spinning, for me) my muse has awoken. And she is fired up.

This fire, is not an out of control rage, it's a sweet one that has been cobbled w/ stones and warms your face on a cooler (ha!) summer night while the children play flash light tag fifty feet behind you.

Now I have the power of her and while rolling rampant w/ the creative ideas steaming, streaming over me was a phenomenal feeling, now, I can open my mind up to the stories, ideas, creations I feel pulsing through my veins.

A plan? Well, I have none as of yet, but there is my book to edit, a startling character whispering her dark tale to me (I'm unsure the length, bc it's a completely different experience for me. Usually, I see the ending first and then the rest of the story sings itself to me...this time... I have the entryway, the doormat and the brass knocker, it's pretty schweet.)

As for a footnote I would like to thank those who have not forgotten me while I was away -- Aaron Polson, Tony Rapino Angel Zapata, Bea Sempre, Laurie D, Bettie Turner. I got a beautiful Christmas card from the lovely Cate Gardener in December (which did tickle my Christmas bells :D) For those blogs I once followed religiously-- Shadow, Ken, Mercedes, Ellen, Alan W. Davidson, Tyhitia Green, and so many more, I have missed reading all of your whosywhatsits of the goings on, and I'm still thinking of ya'll fondly.

finding the fool

2011-05-11T18:45:00.000-07:00

I have been somewhat lost as of late, whimsy has left the comforting frontal lobes of my mind and tucked itself away to recesses unknown. It pops out every once in a while, allowing me to know that my fool is still lurking.

On the writing front, stories have been sprinkling their sparkles over my brain when I sleep -- there is a lot of dancing and I just happened to write two poems last week (thanks for the faith, Aaron, Bea and Tony).

On the short story front, I still have some in the editing pool, some that have been waiting, patiently for me to do something with them. It might be time to delve back in with a scalpel and see how long it would take for the blood to stain my elbows.

And then, I will search for a home for all of them.

But, speaking of finding the fool, while I won't be looking for it, I will certainly keep my arms open for its return.

The Dreams....

2011-05-01T13:52:00.000-07:00

My dreams are coming back to me, stronger, harder and stranger than what they have been in the last nine months...I think this is a turning point. I really do.

The funny thing, I dream, therefore I am.

I haven't dreamt like this since September. But, it's how I first started writing, and it always helps me see where I am in my life.

I think that the little things of this past year are starting to strip themselves away and I'm starting to get a sense of who I am, again. Which is always a good thing. When I dream I am always taken to a bizarre place of something not quite normal, but it makes sense to me. I never have a 'normal' dream. It is comforting.

As I said, the last four nights, these dreams all have something in common, nothing I've figured out yet, but they are linked. A little unknown (or known depending on how into Psychology you are...) fun fact, when we dream of a person, it is never really about that actual person, its about which part of US they represent about US.

Today I had a dream of dancing, but I was dancing alone in the basement of some "friend" whom in reality, I have never met. There was a party, but I didn't want to be around anyone so I went and danced to my own tune in the basement (which was pretty done up), then we were in a car chase with some ninja's and I lost an earring -- earrings that I would never wear, and some dancing monkeys (always I dream about monkeys...I should look that up...)anyway, I think my muse is coming back to me. Well, I know she is coming back.

Now, I just looked up some of the definitions on/about some of the more prominant things...oh, crap, I forgot about the ninja's -- hold on one moment please *pushes elevator music for "Tom Jones", to entertain* -- *And she enters grac...HA I couldn't finish that line, there is nothing about me that's graceful*

I suppose it's true,what they said about Ninja's but I am not sure about the other stuff, more to ponder or just let float around in my head for a few more days...

I still have to wait to see where she is going to take me on this wild ride of dreams, and if I get a hankering to write (when don't have it? the problem is finding the space in my head to write out what needs to be written), then I will write.

And again with the random, I was just really inspired by this last set of dreams I had, no story yet, but who knows...the way this road is taking me, I could be writing by the end of the week.

Pleasant Cheers!!

Strength in numbers....?

2011-04-27T07:27:00.000-07:00

It should be no surprise to anyone when I say "Hey, I haven't blogged in a while". Yes, we can all look at the last post and see that time has past.

I've put my pen down to focus on a full-time job, (only until I get my feet wet there, believe me, I have not given up the dream. Nor will I ever).

I've abandoned Facebook because I have nothing witty or sparkly to say, I haven't even spent enough time on Twitter to figure out how it really works.

And life keeps moving forward.

When a friend of mine told me that her heart went out to me (back in September) because she knew what I was going to go through in six months, I have to admit I was very put off. By nature, I know I can plow through anything when its given to me. I can handle the things put on the table, and blow through them, always trying to give it my all. But the aftermath is what gets me.

Welcome to the Aftermath!!

Anyone who still may be following this blog after my hiatus (thank you btw) probably knows the upheaval of my life at this time. Getting divorced is hard, but it is not really the getting divorced that is hard in my case. It's the finding my feet beneath the pool of dark fog around my waist. Each positive step thins the fog out, right?

No. That is not the way that life works.

I am sitting with myself, only myself, but I am not me which is okay because it is what I need to be right now. But let me tell you, it sucks.

And just when I think that I have it under control, life, the little devil she is dumps some more freezing ice into the bowl and the black fog rises until I can barely see. I'm flailing away through it though, because what else can I do? It's not about strength, it's about doing what we have to do when we have to do it. Finding some sort of peace within myself.

No one will be able to help me but me, though disheartening, more times it is empowering.

The hard part, the hardest part, is allowing myself to be crazy without allowing myself to be crazy. Or judging the crazy, or listening to the crazy, or holding the crazy's hand for a wild night out and waking up in the morning with it next to me waving at me laughing because when I look in the mirror, I don't see myself anymore.

There really is no point to this post, I just needed to do something with my hands.

My grandfather died this week, Pio Zone. He passed away in a chair after a rigorous four week battle with doctor's having to open and close his insides again and again and again. He was 88, born in 1923, he was in the Navy and loved his wife more than life itself so much so, that when she passed 14 yrs ago, and his dementia set in, all he would say was "Where are my cigarettes?" and "I want to be with Chickie". Pio loved to travel, live life, and gamble by cards. He was a fantastic grandfather and just let us be how we wanted to be without judgment, which, in turn, was a gift all in its own.

Today, I sit back and wonder why I need to write this, post this? Tomorrow, I will know it is because I wanted to do it, for me. This post has nothing to do with writing, it is a blanket statement of hidden things in my head, coming out in weird ways -- ways that don't really have anything to do with what is really going on, but they are helping me get over the greater issues. One day at a time, one step at a time...but what happens when your legs wobble and you can no long walk? You take a break, cry, eat bagel bites, watch mindless television, read a book that was said to be "so you and helpful", only to turn out that the lead character really wasn't like you at all and the end was a bust and you get angry now every time you think about it!!! (Oh, and by 'you' I mean me), you go shooting for the first time ever, plan to do things because you need to, do it with ease, (bc nothing is as hard as we make it out to be) -- but still everything is delayed, everyday drags on one million years into the next until you're to the point of exhaustion where your body can't even remember what function your nose has for your face (alright, I'm exaggerating, but it makes sense to me and maybe to some lonely traveler wandering the bloggoshepre, who has gone through a similar experience). And then get to a place where, "I don't know what to do anymore," seems like such a defeating but honest statement that you can't help to listen to the OTHER voice in your head that says "Yes, you do".

I am staring at the inky fog, only seeing black, but I keep going. I believe anyone would do it in my shoes, I don't believe it is strength, I don't believe that it is survival, I believe it is human.

We are, first and foremost, always alone. Numbers...having numbers is great -- but when you sit back and think about those hard times in life, the ones that never seemed to end, the one which puts so much stress and strain on your shoulders you feel as though your neck is going to pop, we were always alone. We had to work it out for ourselves, in the way only we knew how. And if that is by focusing on the small stuff while you process your way through the big stuff, then so be it. If it is taking a gun to the shooting range to murder a little paper man ("Target," Larry the shooting range owner corrected me, "Target"), then that can help.

Even when I was surrounded by people -- husband, boyfriends, friends, family, coworkers -- I still felt alone. Only now, I really am alone -- able to do whatever I really want to do, and yet, life...life, loves to throw shit at you (in a fun, monkey flinging poo kind of way, of course that monkey thinks its hilarious), from every direction.

*This post, is a part of my quirky way of processing things. I obsess about random things because I can not fathom the larger scale issues all at once. Stop by my brain sometime, trust me, you'll have a blast and leave through the crazy door with parting gifts in the shape of a giraffe.

**Dedicated to my Poppy...he lived a grand life and he was happy.

Wading into a Pool of Rusty Nails (or Life Lessons for Fiction) by Lee Thompson

2011-03-21T05:30:00.000-07:00

Guest Blogger Lee Thompson comes to visit my site today and spills his guts across the pages!

About ten years ago I moved to Tennessee because I wanted to attend a university that had a great music program. At the time I’d just started playing guitar and really sucked at it but I wanted to learn properly and make a lifetime of music because, pre-writing, music had moved me like nothing else ever had. Seeing that I’d just come out of a long bout of drinking I didn’t have a car or shit for money, and it was okay that I didn’t know a soul in the area I planned to go to, and hadn’t started enrolling. I just ‘went with it’ by buying a one-way greyhound bus ticket from Michigan to Tennessee. I took a backpack full of clothes, my guitar, and sixty-three bucks.

Looking back, I can imagine how crazy family and friends thought I was, but, “Fuck!” I thought. “I’m on an adventure! I’m going to do this!” I didn’t give their funny looks a moment’s worry. I just said, “See ya!” and left. I spent the first night in a motel, went to the university the next morning to start the application. The second night I was on the street with about fifteen bucks in my pocket. It went fast. It was summer and warm, so there was that, but after a few days I started starving. I didn’t have a phone, or change to call anyone at home, nor did I want to. I looked for work and hit fast food joints around sundown and asked, “If I clean your parking lot, you want to throw a burger my way?”

Some of them did, some of them told me to get lost.

Those were lean times.

The locals knew I wasn’t from around there the moment I spoke. I was too stubborn to hock my guitar to grab food for a couple weeks. A few people told me about a homeless shelter where they’d give dinner and a bed for the night as long as I followed the house rule to look for work every day, which was fine because I was already spending the coolness of mornings to seek employment. The homeless shelter booted everyone at 7 am and re-opened in the evening, which was smart, because they didn’t have a bunch of bums hanging around all day.

I spent evenings rubbing shoulders with crack heads, whores, gambling addicts, winos. They all had stories and we’d run across each other during our day hikes. Some of them would follow me and try not to make it obvious, but it was because they weren’t wandering like normal, they had things in their head, a sudden purpose. I always carried a knife. Sometimes, late at night when no one could sleep, we’d share a little history. When they asked my story and heard that I had a family who loved me, had left a job, had sobered up and then became homeless, these hardcore addicts gave me damn funny looks and let me know I’d made a pretty silly choice. And they knew all about bad choices.

It didn’t take long to find a temp agency where they snagged workers and paid them at the end of the day. I was in good shape and smiled quite a bit (probably looked a little creepy, smiling like that when I appeared a bum.) I hired on as a construction laborer right away because they didn’t care how I looked, just that I could bust my ass and not stand around expecting anything for free.

Some of the guys who just bummed around and never looked for work would watch me and a few others, wondering if they should try and rob us (and some people did get robbed, usually early in the morning when they were still groggy and the perp was up all night planning and building the courage) but I carried a knife like a lot of others did, and if I had to I would stab someone in the throat and let them bleed to death in the street because sometimes you have to meet crazy with crazy if you want to keep on living.

After two weeks working for the construction crew I saved enough to rent a motel room by the month and get out of the madhouse they called The Shelter. I still saw some of the homeless shambling about in the coming weeks and months, and a few of them tried to stay with me, asking if they could crash on the floor, these guys who had a gleam in their eyes like you wouldn’t believe unless you’d been there, unless you’ve seen violence and hope and hopelessness all fighting inside a person a mere six inches in front of your face, and inching closer by the second.

Even after I had a crappy motel room I still had to walk everywhere because it wasn’t like I could afford a car, and I just enjoyed walking and fresh air, and you can observe and study things when you’re walking. It was a difficult and enlightening time. That year crawled and sped by.

I watched drug addicts—some of them probably decent kids and men at some point in their lives—drag their ghosts behind them, drifting into more of the same, nervous and edgy, always in the same place as if the city moved around them and they never gained any ground at all.

I think some of those experiences (at least in themes) have bled into NURSERY RHYMES 4 DEAD CHILDREN. Spending time with desperate people, and at times being one of the desperate, is something that will always stick with me. Like me, my characters know what it’s like to go hungry, to think things they wouldn’t normally think, to wonder what the hell they got themselves into by charging forward without a plan. There’s a lot of excitement hidden in those quiet moments, alone and still, while the world speeds by though—where you have to depend on yourself and no one else at all. It’s like living and dying at the same time multiplied by ten. It’s seeing the best and worst firsthand and taking from it even as it takes from you.

*Visit Lee at http://alongthispathsodarkly.blogspot.com/ AND visit Delirium to see his new book Nursery Rhymes 4 Dead Children due out in May 2011!!

"Oi with the Poodles already..."

2011-03-15T07:50:00.000-07:00

Okay, that's a quote from Gilmore Girls, but it is a direct comment for how I'm feeling.

Everything has fallen into place, the stars have aligned, my ducks have found their oblong row, the life I have been working for is tying up its loose ends -- I've started two short stories, both of which are taking their time to birth, I finished Betaing a fabulous novel for a friend, got my book read for my new Book Club, my bills are paid, I got my hair cut in pretty fashion, my two weeks notice is in, I've grieved my old life and now I'm ready for my new endeavor... and yet... It's a strange thing giving up a part of life that I thought I knew.

That being said, as I have dug into myself, uprooted my life and planted my feet somewhere new over the past eight months -- it wasn't hard. Yes, in the moment with the chaos whirling devilishly around me and self doubt gnawing on my every thought, picking apart the tie I knotted together, laughing at me when I cried or fell deeper into insecurity, enjoyed flooding my brain with hindered thoughts of "I can't do it," "I don't know what I am doing," "Everyone thinks I'm a ______(insert deprecation here, I'm sure I thought it of myself) -- it was hard. Very hard, nothing good comes to fruition without hard work. And yet, I'm still standing. Everything I wanted/worked for/doubted is now sitting and placid in my hand.

My point is that working hard isn't as hard as we make in out to be in our minds. Just because our mind fools us and tells us that we suck... or the equivalent (my worse thoughts aren't extremely clever,) doesn't mean that we really do. Thoughts are just thoughts, only we give them weight...ammunition, power. If we can flick them off like the dust fleck they really are, anyone can handle anything at any time. Easy. Right?

And so, I say "Oi with the Poodles, already..." enough is enough. These thoughts have kept me down for too long, and I'm taking my brain and thoughts back. I accept them but know just because I think them, doesn't make it truth.

Redundancy is one you've seen twice before...

2011-02-28T13:55:00.000-08:00

Black Label Books liked my latest blog post so
much they borrowed it for their own!
(They asked of course!)
Now, I'm not expecting those to re-read it,
but pop over and see what they have to offer,
you just might like it!

Writing; the teacher and dicipline I never knew I always wanted

2011-02-24T04:30:00.000-08:00

Before I discovered writing, (my muse birthed two and a half years ago, she's fully walking and talking and soooo cute! I just want to pinch her cheeks!) I would not say that I was a disciplined person, I was organized and did my stay-at-home mommy duties because I loved it. I've tried a myriad of things that would, from the outside (I suppose) look like I was really enjoying my life. And I was, there is nothing greater than seeing your babes grow into the people you know they can be and knowing that you have helped them do it, but I lacked that human drive that many with passions always spoke about and is never understood until you are stricken with your passion.

When I started my Novel, I knew that it wasn't going to be ready for a loooooooong time, and usually my fire for something would fade. It never did with writing. Writing gave me the discipline I had been looking for. It taught me that nothing comes out perfect the first time and with a little blood, sweat and tears (cliche, but give me one, we all know it's true :P) any of us could create something we are proud of.

I never knew I was searching for this, to be honest. I thought "I clean my house, take care of my kids, play with them, make dinners, set up play dates, work two days a week, pay the bills, mow the lawn...etc...I have the discipline I need to continue on in my life as a happy-ish person." But I never saw things completely clearly until Mackenzie sprinkled her magic dust over my brain and my heart. And this, my friends is not only something that can help in writing, but it also helped me with every day life.

So here is what writing has taught me;

Nothing comes out pretty the first time. No idea, no story, no piece of artwork, no exercise regimen. The bones are just that, bones. It is up to us to add the muscle, tendons, hair, eyes, teeth, the rhythm we want the heart to beat on.

Hard work is literally ripping your heart open, squishing out the juices of labor and creating something that has a spark of what we are trying for. Only with hard work are we able to get to where we want to go.

I have met those who have just started writing, just became brave enough to put themselves out there, I started in the same place. I have met those with phenomenal talent already published and well on the track to greatness the only thing that separates us? Time, hard work, and experience. There is nothing greater than watching the journey of others, while going through it as well.

Anything you want is possible. You just have to figure out your plan and go for it. Find what works for you (or me) and then, even if you have the bumps and bruises that life will always offer up with it's fists, nothing can stop ya.

Calmness. (Despite the nerve wrecking "What if I'm not good enough?" necrosis that all writers bare -- and is fleeting.) Knowing that something will come into bloom after you dust the petals off, peel them back one by one, until you reach the center, the shined and pretty little package we have been working so hard for. It will always come, if we are patient.

Confidence, I had a fake kind of confidence before I was writing, I didn't have anything that was mine, that I could say "This is who I am. This isn't going to go away and it will only get better with time." It took me a while, several rejections, many many many mistakes until finding the right formula for me to truly come into myself. To look at my skin and say "Hey, I like what is underneath, and I am not afraid to show it to others."

Fear, is nothing but a fog of fluff, you can run your hand through it, watch it disintegrate before your very eyes. It is our own minds that make it larger than life, it is the strength of our own minds that can squash it underneath our boots.

Complaints and frustration only bring you down. Problems are always fixable, even in the fiction world that has come to your head, there is always another way. Always ('cept if a cartoon Coyote throws a stick of dynamite in your lap and you can't get rid of it fast enough. But if a cartoon has beef with you...well....)

Grammar is not as scary as it seems. I have run across so many writers who say the same thing (myself included) "I don't know grammar." Yes. We do. And if you really don't think you know grammar, then learn. It's not hard or as hard as we make it out to be.

Okay. I tend to be wordy so I will cut it off here, but this is not nearly everything that I have learned from writing. Not even close.

Happy writing peeps!! Have a great day! (Oh, and I got a poem accepted!! More info to follow)

Uncertainty Is The In The Eye Of The Fear-Holder

2011-02-18T11:09:00.000-08:00

For the last three weeks I have been fiendishly searching for a job. The thing is, it's not that I want a new job, I like my bookstore work and I am good at it, but changes in my life have caused me to need what the bookstore can not offer. And so, I am on a hunt.

I have had some luck with the job search, getting at least four interviews and another one next week. Sadly, I shot the pooch in the toe and have yet to land a job. What is funny is that rejection for a job is similar to a rejection for writing a story. It happens, it's a part of life and with each rejection we're supposed to learn something new, takes something away from it and continue on until we find out the right way to get what we want.

But what happens when uncertainty creeps up inside of us?

It freaks me out, that is what it does.

What if I am not good enough? What if I am just deluding myself, what if...what if...what if... on and on in a crazy beading cycle of negative dervishes that begs to pull me down.

(Here comes the super part)

I like my bookstore job; I enjoy the customers (fodder for fiction) that come into my store. I enjoy the activity and the constant change up of not knowing what is going to happen at any given day, I like the challenge it provides me with, I enjoy my fellow employees. I had a plan and I did not stick to it.

I am freaking myself out for no reason whatsoever.

Originally, I was going to try to get some contract writing jobs, plenty of writers freelance for contract sites and while some places are frauds, I am smart enough to know what is and what isn't. And yet, still...my writing "test" mandated from the site I want to go for is (still) sitting on my desktop, waiting for me to finish it.

How is that possible? I set myself goals and I accomplish them. That is what I do, that is what I have done in the past and that is what is going to spur my happiness for the future. Yes, I have been bogged down with a certain amount of stress, but this is nothing none of us doesn't go through, being overwhelmed plays a big part in this. I don't know which direction to go first. I keep telling myself that I will get this writing contract stuff done...but later.... and it turns out, I'm afraid.

Fear is shivering inside of me in a tense little package (with a purple bow to boot) because I haven't written non-fiction for some time now, what if they turn me down, what if it isn't good enough, then my plan to stay at the bookstore and work from home will be destroyed so I am nipping it in the bud before I even try. What if, what if, what if, what if..... again, I have shot myself in the finger without even realizing what I did.

Super.

And so, the point! *cries of "Finally" come belting in from the peanut gallery*

Tomorrow, despite my fear, I WILL sit down, I WILL research what I need to, I WILL finish my goal! Uncertainty be damned! (It's the exclamation mark that makes it seem like I am braver than I am, trust me, I am still terrified.) I WILL finish what I started, brush the "what if's" into the blowing wind and box their ears when they come back!

I am still going to continue my hunt, but at least, I will know that I did it my way.

Happy Weekend!

The Change

2011-02-16T04:24:00.000-08:00

Sorry about the teeny-tiny lil ol' print on my bloggy, here. I've been wanting a change for a while and for some reason the design template hates my computer. It wouldn't show up, at all, so this weekend I hijacked a lonesome laptop (sitting on my kitchen table) and I haphazardly threw this blog design together before the owner tarred and feathered my person (I'm still finding black feathers in my hair, btw) ...now said laptop and person have gone for and I'm stuck with the teeny-tiny-lil'ol print I have here on the side of my blog.

Instead of thinking it's too small tho, I've decided to assume my eyes need exercise and this is the best way to do it!! (how flabby are your eyes? do they need some tunage? come on work em out with me!!)

Happy Writing, folks!

Delicious

2011-02-14T16:07:00.000-08:00

My lovely friend and fellow writer, Annie Duvall, has her debut, "Delicious"
out at Black Label books!!

Did you know that Frankenstein was the first movie from Universal Studios
that didn't come with a warning from a nice man reminding us that it was only fiction and nothing could hurt us...?
**Warning!! Delicious is not for the faint hearted, but it is fabulous!!!**

Happy Valentine's Day peeples!!
*laughs sinisterly and twirls hands*

The Quirks and Cogs Crankin, Make Up Me

2011-02-12T09:27:00.000-08:00

Well, I've realized that my writing has stopped for a short intermission and while this is a progressive writing blog, I miss it when I am not writing. This week has been hectic, however it's all moving in the right direction so instead of writing news, I decided to share some quirks and interworkin's of me...for those of you who'd like a good little chuckle.

Turns out I think I have quite a few quirks so I thought I'd keep it to just the first five that I find most fascinating (she says so very humbly)

1. I have imaginary friends. Different from my muse, McKenzie, she speaks to me in a rhythmic way that I know is going to be a short story, novel and/or poem. These friends formed to help me through my adolescences and teenage years because I was a severe outcast and in turn made myself invisible. I don't know if they were supposed to go away, but they never have, they have evolved with me and some of them became married, some of them had children, but they are always there when I need them to dance, talk to or just laugh at me when I run into a wall that was rude enough to jump in front of me. (Yes, I know they aren't real, I don't *actually* see them, but I "see" them...if you know what I mean, I am sane, they just won't leave me alone )

2. Speaking of walls, I have a magical gift of clumsy. I wake up with bruises that I don't remember how or where they come from, but I swear that it's those damn walls of my house beating me up while I sleep, they probably have sleeping drugs that I don't know about.

3. I talk. I talk alot. My total ramblage filter that so many of everyone else has is very thin and I can't myself from saying what's on my mind (although, I do have to admit it's usually nice stuff, not bad or mean,) or just pouring out whatever comes across confusing most until they are in a head scratching contest to see whom can lose more hair or walk away from me first.

4. I like jigsaw puzzles, "Wait, Wait...Don't Tell Me", and I can watch Amy Paladino's "Gilmore Girl's" over and over again without making my eyes burst from repetition.

5. While I enjoy the outdoors, ie. hiking, rock climbing, repelling, canoeing...etc, I despise camping. Sleeping outdoors on the floor in a sleeping bag does not appeal to me much. Funny. Even I think it's funny, I just want to have electricity and a comfortable place to sleep. That's it. I can walk all day in the peace and serenity of the woods with a child strapped to my back just take me to a cabin or a hotel afterward, please!!

I spilled mine, what are your quirks?

Have a great weekend!! Happy writing/reading/editing/living!!

Lessons, plans and a little jig to get ya going...

2011-02-03T05:29:00.000-08:00

Over the past six months, as I have stated in an earlier blog this week, I have been waiting around for life to situate itself. I am uncomfortable with disarray and have a hard time, when things don't go exactly the way they are supposed to, dropping any anxiety that I have.

Now, I previously thought I had gotten over this little quirk of mine last year, through some help with some extremely good people. However, going through my "new" little experience, I realized I was wrong.

In June of 2010, the doggie poo hit those big metal blades and spread it as far as the eye could see. Every single aspect of my life changed. Not for the worse, but even the good changes take some time to adjust. As I look back on the last months and see my major fo paux's I can take comfort in the fact of knowing while it was (and still is) hard, I have learned a valuable lesson.

Just because I am "adjusting," doesn't mean I stop being me. It doesn't mean that I have to stop living my life and doing the things I enjoy. Just because I don't like how I feel (Tense, anxious, frustrated, helpless, hopeless) doesn't mean that I have to just roll over and watch reruns of whatever was on Bravo. Instead of accepting how I was feeling, I let it rule me.

That is not saying that I didn't do what I had to do, I nursed my sick children, bandaged and tourniqueted the house when it needed to be done. I went to work and capably fixed problems that came my way. But, I still wasn't happy. I couldn't figure out what in the world was wrong with me.

I was continually moving forward, still my feet were spinning circles, Shaggy. (I don't like to be stuck in a metaphysical sense.) I talked people's ears of (close friends, loved ones, not random strangers....cept that one time) trying to physically "Talk" my way back to happy. It still didn't work. While nothing was incredibly wrong, nothing was incredibly right either.

I have to laugh at myself, if someone came to me eight months ago and told me I would have had this problem I would have told them that was their opinion and that they were wrong. I had adopted a zen-ish way of thinking, but it got buried beneath the rabble.

So, I set myself on a "quest" if you will, cooking + writing + quit smoking (for longer than five weeks) + exercise = A Happy Kara. I didn't formulate the plan it just sort of came to me. I KNEW this plan would make me feel better, it had to, that was what I was missing, the Organization! It didn't. I was going through the motions of every day life, doing things to make myself feel better, and I still had a tension in my jaw that felt as if it would snap if I tried to speak.

Then, I got a piece of advice that actually spoke to me, in a different way. A sweet woman told me, "You don't have to like it." Meaning the tension that I was feeling, the zombie-like attitude I have had towards tackling the things in my life. And, she was right. I don't have to like it. I am sitting here tense and frankly uncomfortable with myself. But, I changed my glasses.

I can do anything I set my mind to. (So can anyone, I just want to add that bc I whole-heartily know this) I don't have to always feel light, or even, like I used to. I am still adjusting and just because I have had some negative feelings/doubts about many aspects of my personal being, doesn't make them true. It doesn't mean that I have to dig a whole on my couch and wriggle myself in there just because I don't like how I feel. That will go away. But only with time. No epiphany, or activity (no matter how much I enjoy it,) will just *poof!* give me back the peace of mind I once had.

Yes, I know. It's so simple -- I thought I knew this, but I didn't, not really.

My mind still races at night, my jaw is still tense, I still don't like the way I feel.

But now, I accept it, and I can move forward without those sticky shoes.

Ah, and... the jig, enjoy! Have a great day, everyone!!

The Pimp

2011-02-02T15:39:00.000-08:00

My blogger-friend and fellow writer
Aaron Polson is excited!!
He has a new story out in paperback!

(click his name to get the full synopsis)

The House Eaters!

------>Click, Buy, Read!!<------

The Plan, (in a non-conformist, I don't follow "those" things kinda way)

2011-01-31T19:20:00.000-08:00

Saturday I wrote about the jump, well... it's official, I jumped.

Aaaand I landed smack dab in the middle of a "Idontknowwhasit-itis" (That's a fancy way of saying that I have caught a nasty bug which doesn't have a name, but is still draining the crap out of me.) So, while I wait for the NyQuil to kick in I was thinking about my plans....

While my daily time-bar has exceedingly decreased and I am trying hard to fit all the monkeys back in the barrel, I figured I would start with something simple. Cooking.

I used to love to cook. I did it every night for my family and I even made them sit at the dinner table! There was a short time when I didn't do it, for certain personal reasons, but one day a couple of months ago (December to be exact) and I had the thought "I just need one goal. That's it, everything was a whirling dirvish of mass proportions and I need the top to stop spinning so I could sit on it." And I got the thought "Cooking. If I start cooking again, the writing will follow."

And that is what I did. Now, I am not saying that everything I have cooked over the past four weeks has been spectacular, (I just had to grab ketchup to save the Oh-so-dry-Mommy-I-can't-chew-this-roasted-chicken I made a couple of nights ago. My poor kids are troopers...) but the words --three simple words -- came two weeks after that.

Bam. I have started a new novel. (The exclamation point is too expected after the Bam! I think it's more serene this way, huh??)

To grow more courage I shipped off a very weird tale to the kickin mag Weird Tales, yes, lofty goals. But my tale is seriously weird, while I have an idea where it came from I can honestly look at it and say I was drinking the surrealism tea (not slang for anything recreational, I promise) when I wrote it. Anywhoo, I don't expect anything out of it, just the simple fact of putting myself back out into the writing world. Plus I wrote the first poem I've written since October. All in all, it's been alright on the writing front for me. (No acceptances or declines, but again, I have to start somewhere.)

I have also decided to mix and match some things I have learned along the way from writers I respect and admire, with the littler things that helped me get to my comfortable ways of before... Now I am sure I have you on the seat of anticipation with what I am going to do, but I think the NyQuil has finally hit full dosage and I am winding down, fast.

While I will be back, for now, I have no nuggets of wisdom, no springs of terror, just the well wishes for all to have a nice day tomorrow and to watch out because that purple dragon behind you looks hungry!

Happy writing folks!!

The Long Time Gone, The Stall and now, The Jump...

2011-01-29T18:02:00.000-08:00

It had been three months to the day since I've written a blog post (yesterday), it has been longer than that since I have written on the message boards, visited the sites of magazines I hold dear to my heart and exchanged witty banter with people cut from the same writing cloth as I am. I have secluded myself from the world because I didn't know how to handle the world I had finally chosen all on my own... and now, I am taking a jump.

Whew.

To say that I am nervous is an understatement. I don't know where or how to take the first step towards the place I used to be. The place where I was most comfortable at. So I am blogging, writing, and I am continuing forward until I find that place where I fit, snuggled in nicely, just like I once was.

These are my wobbly baby-steps.

Here is something that is blatantly obvious about me, I never do something unless I am ready, I have an inane need to be prepared. I over analyze like no one's business, I look under the hood, examine the undercarriage, poke the sleeping bear to see if it's still in hibernation mode, jump on the mattress to make sure the springs bounce but don't snap, stretch and pull at them to make sure they don't break and do about one million other things to prepare myself for any sort of problems that may come up for me. And what I have figured out from all of this, through three months (longer if you count the non-attendage of the writing message boards) of "waiting to be ready," is that I am stalling.

And what am I stalling from? What has caused me to be so very cautious? What in the world am I waiting for? A sign? An ephiphany? Another dream that takes me off to a magical place where the characters invade every aspect of my being?

Maybe I am. But I have made a decision, whether I am ready or not, I am taking this leap. I can not wait anymore. While it doesn't fit yet, the sweater can be dampened and pulled to fit me. I don't have to keep searching for the perfect situation, the perfect opportunity, the perfect solution. Because, to be completely honest with myself... nothing is "Perfect," ever. It is only my attitude that causes perfectly-flawed me...I am saying this because, with all of my flaws, my over-analyzing things, running over the same thought again and again and again, like a top that never drops, I am right where I need to be. Is there a better time than that?

I don't know. But I am going to find out.

And from here, I jump.

The Publishment

2010-10-24T04:41:00.001-07:00

*dances a happy jig*

I have another poem over at Every Day Poets! It's called Death March and sticks true to my horror roots, but has a dash of literary spice thrown in for kicks! I do have to say that the editors over there are wonderful. They really worked with me on both poems until I got them correct. Here's hoping to many more poems *clinks glass*

This is the last thing that I have gotten published since "the transition" but I do have some new things in the works, so cross your fingers for me and good luck to all of you waiting for your acceptances!

Happy writing (and poeming!)

Kara

The Breaks, Cracks and Damage

2010-10-11T06:10:00.000-07:00

Holy crab balls has this been exhausting. Many people go through ups and downs, it is a fact of life that the deluge drops when everything around us is falling down. And eventually things re-situate themselves and there should be some lesson that has been learned, if we're lucky.

This being a professional blog (at least for me) I try to give glimpses into my life without getting intensely personal, but I suppose there will be times that it just can't happen. I am, only human after all.

This past month and a half has been a riot of chaos vying for my attention in one form or another. While I am still writing (small bits) there seriously has been no time for anything much more than getting dressed and eating. If I am lucky, I get to play with my sweet children. That is the moment where I get to unwind.

Two years and some odd months ago I woke up from a dream, wrote it down and BLAMO I was a writer. I had an identity a sense of purpose that I never had before. It was a growth spurt that I hadn't seen coming but something that I will never doubt about myself again. I am a writer. It was the first time in my life that I felt that I had something for myself. It was right and good and true. Yes, I didn't know what I was doing, I've stumbled and fallen along the way, but I know that with the hard work I will reach and achieve my goals.

Those goals have been put on hold for now, but I will still get there.

Within the last two years I have blossomed into a woman, into the quirky person who is no longer ashamed of herself, her ideas or her sense of being. It had taken thirty years in the making, but I am here and I have found it.

With this situation, I have started plucking the toxic people out of my life, it has been a hard transition with heartbreaking endings, but each lesson I learn has been pushing me forward towards the woman I see myself as. These past two months have been no different. With my child getting pneumonia, my house falling apart around me, plus a new job at full time hours and new responsibility, my children's school work, play work, my pets, my person has been tested, pulled and mushed back together into a slight lump of who I used to be. The mold of me is still here, I am just reforming and trying to used to this new life.

It is a transition, I know that once the dust settles I will be a bigger, better and stronger me. And I won't stop until I get there, I have a handful of amazing people who have been encouraging and cheering me on. They have seen my uglier moments, stripped down and raw -- slightly crazy (from lack of sleep or from coming home and finding my kitchen floor flooded and not being able to anything about it bc I had to take my son to get an x-ray) they have listened to my absent-minded rambling because my filter for "TMI" has been lost in the lump somewhere. I would not be able to be standing if it wasn't for them.

Thankfully, I know who I am. I do have my identity, my sense of self - the desire of respect, the willpower to hold onto what is most important to me. These are my bones. My skeleton. I am a mother, a writer, a woman. I am a good person, a kind person and a hard worker. I am diligent, strong and caring. I can find honesty even in the worst scenarios and I hold tight to the honesty because I am, nothing more than honest even when it makes me angry, when I want to be petty, selfish and flip the chaos the bird, I can't.

These are the things that get me through where sleep is now a commodity and life has no sense or reason. It is just a series of trials that are tossed at me, waiting to see when or how I will break. But the thing about the breaks, the cracks and the damage is that I know that I will always rebuild.

The Tag! A Meme of Questionable Proportions.

2010-10-02T23:29:00.000-07:00

My friend, Mr. Ben Solah, likes to play tag and I'm it! He stated something about people hating Meme's, but I find them quite enjoyable, although I haven't done one since I only had about two followers -- I believe it's time again, don't you? :)

1. If you could have any superpower, what would you have? Why?

The ability to absorb anyone elses power. Rogue is my favorite superhero. She rocks.

2. Who is your style icon?

"People either answered this as a fashion style icon, or a writing style icon. Both change for me all the time and depending on my mood." - From Ben, himself but it rings true for me as well.

As for writing, I have to say that I was literally blown away with Charles Bukowski's writing style the way it is haphazardly placed in such a strategic way that it appears unintentional, but know that it can not be.

With Fashion, I am currently in the moment of finding my fashionista style. I like the vintage look it's fun and quirky just like me. But I also love anything black, it looks fabulous on me. :)

3. What is your favorite quote?

Oh, geeze. There really are so many quotes, I'm afraid to pick just one. However I will go with the one which popped into my mind when I first read the question. Does that make it my favorite? I have no clue, but it must mean something, right?

"No one can make you feel inferior without your permission." Elenore Roosevelt.

I really adore the positive quality and the rightness of this statement, and once you get "it" it's hard to allow anyone else and their opinions bother you.

4. What is the best compliment you’ve ever received?

Hmmm... well, this is sort of an odd question, eh? No direct quote comes to mind but it has to be when my best friend Andrea, told me what she really thought about me and I was shocked to find out how she saw me in such a positive light that it brought tears to my eyes.

5. What playlist/CD is in your CD player/iPod right now?

I don't have an iPod, but I do have an MP3 player which contains: Amanda Palmer, Regina Spektor, Sonic Youth, Rufus Wainwright, David Bowie, Ingrid Michealson, Vampire Weekend, Kate Nash, Mirah, Ben Folds, RadioHead, Primative Radio Gods, The Dresden Dolls, PJ Harvey, Pixies, Lily Allen, and Danny Elfman.

6. Are you a night owl or a morning person?

That is a tough question. I have to say that I am salted of both night owlish qualities and chipper morning qualities. I'm a friend to both, and it just depends on the day (she says writing this at 2:46am)

7. Do you prefer dogs or cats?

I always believed that I was a cat person, but I have to say that in the last couple of months my pup, Riley, has really been there for me when I've needed her. She senses things that my kitten, Agador just doesn't seem to want to be bothered with, and while I appreciate his independence I certaily adore Riley's loyalties.

8. What is the meaning behind your blog name?

The meaning behind my blog name....lol, well anyone who knows me for more than a passing comment knows of the crazy warble and fantastic random garble in my head. It only seemed appropriate that I honor it with the title for my blog. I had an instance last year where I had to start a new blog, thankfully, I got to use a similar and better title. :)

Now it’s time to tag other people… (I always hate this part, bc I love all of the blogs I follow.)

And that's it, please feel free to take the Meme for yourself, and considered yourself "ghost" tagged if I didn't toss your name up there, you are still "IT!"

AHAH! And a must note right here ---> Mr. Lee Thompson and I are throwing a contest, sadly I have been slightly lax in promoting it (slaps wrists with a ruler, bad Kara! Bad!!), but there is still time, please show us your talents and pop over here (CLICK!) to see the rules, regulations formulas that will help you win the kickassidness prizes that Lee is giving out to those deemed most talented (yet there is no crow but other stuff that is almost as good such as -- 1st Place: A One-year subscription to Dark Discoveries (or another mag if you're already subscribed to DD. If you are, great! They rock!); 2nd Place: An awesome Tee from The Bag and The Crow! Mine makes me look edgy! You want to look edgy too, don'tcha?; 3rd Place: An awesomely random book, but I can tell you this: It will be from the super cool Tasmaniac Publications. I've got a ton of their books and they're dyn-o-mite. :)), enter! Do it! What's the worse that could happen??

Have a great and wonderful day, lovelies!

Happy writing :)

The Work

2010-09-22T17:22:00.000-07:00

I've been hinting with each post that my life has had some upheaval, that things are never what they seem and that I will soon be working my way back into the writing world, the community I miss so very much. While all of those statements are vague but true, I have to say it's going to take some work.

Precious planning and baby steps have gotten me to the point where I am at least ready to blog again. I am working more, and spending more time with my children as a single parent. My life has been turned upside down and while I understand the harder times that may befall on me, I am pleased with the new challenges, tasks and life set ahead of me.

Things are slowly working their way back, where I want them to be. Where I've been striving to get to for so long to be honest it *is* hard work.

Not that any one thing that I have to contend with is difficult. I received a new position at my job, it's an adjustment and temporary, but I'm excited nonetheless. A lot of change has come my way in a brief and short four weeks. Being a parent to my children is nothing new, writing is a little over two years old and keeping my house in order is something I did frequently as a stay-at-home mom.

Most of the transition I am feeling is just that... my feelings. And thankfully, for me, I have wonderful people in my life to help me sort out the muckity muck -- the being hard on myself for not being "supermom" right away or even just taking the time it takes to make my way into my new life. I have most of the stuff down pat, which is part of the reason I do become hard on myself, because I do know I can do it. I have done everything I need to take on this new endeavor with flying colors. I am just not ready to do it. It's the waiting that's grating on me (no, I did not mean to rhyme, but it adds a little funness to the post, don't you all agree?) every time I think I get a handle on something, a little pebble comes in and trips me. I stumble a little, but I keep going. I know that only baby steps will get me there, one goal at a time and to be cliche, one foot in front of the other (yes, I know I can do better, but a little cliche goes a long way sometimes.)

There is little that I am afraid of, being stuck in the same place is one of my true fears, it grips me wholly and completely and helps add a certain panic to an already intense situation. But, I believe, once I get over that and start to trust in myself -- know that I am not going to become stuck -- once again, I will find my balance.

Once I accept this, the work will come naturally. And only with work, will I be able to achieve myself.

The Publishment!

2010-09-18T18:45:00.000-07:00

Hey! There's a new poem of mine up at EveryDayPoets! This is one where the editors were very wonderful and worked with me to help me get the poem just right!!

With A Full Heart

Another Love poem, but it has a nice little dark tinge to it!

Thanks for reading!!

Happy Writing!
Kara

The Break

2010-09-15T16:32:00.000-07:00

And it's official. Two months, almost to the day, my brain has ceased to pass words to my fingers. Yes, I've had little blurbs here and there and it's been rough, my life has taken an unscheduled, but absolutely necessary stop. It wasn't a block, it was more of an emotional strike. With all that has been going on, Mackenzie (my muse) had kindly scooted back to the corner to sit within the shadows. She's sipped on red wine in her leather boots, patiently braiding and unbraiding her auburn hair, catching flies between chopsticks, flicking her nails, doing interesting things that she has yet to share with me. Her patience waning.

Before my little break, I was under the assumption that I wrote because I wanted to, not because I had to. I'm not a "have to" kind of person, I've stricken those words from coming cross my lips for several different reasons. Plus, I'd gone many years without writing and while there was a piece of me missing, I wasn't completely unhappy. However, now that I have gone on the great journey, traveling through my mind in a gossamer string of cleverly webbed words, nothing feels the same.

And now, I have to say, I was wrong.

I have to write.

It's not as though I'm suffering from physical withdraw, not at the current moment anyway, it's more of a metaphysical angst. The pain in my heart because I've not written much over the past two months is great, and I never thought I would feel something like this.

Yes, I know, it's different.

The past few days have actually been almost excruciating, Mackenzie whispering small thoughts to me in her fantastic way, buttering me up for the time, in a few days I'm assuming, when I'm ready to jump back on the writing wheel. It's a feeling that is enthralling, yet scary. I'm not one that gives up - breaks are, sometimes, an evil we all may have to endure at one point or another. I'm not beating myself up for it. My RL wouldn't have been able to take the strain of another obstacle added, in my case it was not a decision I made willingly, it just sort of happened. But now, I know, I'm ready for the break to end. It's time, and I believe that with a certain amount of semblance in place that I am ready to take on the words and thoughts, the musings and whispers of my muse. I can only imagine where she will take me, or where I will find myself again. I'm looking forward to it.

Slowly, but surely I will work my way back, I'm ready!

The Playground...revisited.

2010-09-09T07:29:00.000-07:00

Ahhhh, the leaves are changing colors, big yellow monster's are swallowing small children into their bellies, taking them to a place where they will be tortured with books and learnin'. Now, that my children are back in school and life has started to situate itself in the way that it normally does after a typhoid, I would like to revisit and recycle this lovely blog post. It's one of easier times, innocence and the surprising nature of childhood behavior. Please enjoy...

The Playground

Once a month I go to my son's elementary school to help out with lunch-- there are no hairnets or rubber gloves on when I go. The parents help out, its something nice that our school does, the are parent involved and lets the kids know the parents care. It's kind of fun actually.

I don't do anything super great, get spoons and forks when they are needed. Say "Yes" when they ask to go to the bathroom, open up packages or milk if it's warranted.

But as I walk around the lunchroom, the murmurs of children combine together in a cacophonous tone which reverberates off of the walls and I find myself not bothered, instead I tune out the pandemonium and watch.

Children have the most interesting way of doing things. Their minds work in wondrous ways. They allow curiosity of the unknown drive them, not caring about the world around them. If they want to mix chocolate milk and ranch dressing together, eat it (or drink it) they do. They get so excited and proud of the mystery fluid they concocted, they feel the need to tell someone about it. OR if they can't eat the apple their mother packed for them, because their teeth are missing, they figure out another way... using a spoon no less.

Not sure many adults would think of something so far away from the norm. They would, most likely, find a knife and cut the apple in several pieces. It is more practical that way. But kids don't care about practicality, they set their sights and won't worry about the obstacles... they just do.

As we move out to the playground my fascination grows. Watching the girls run as fast as they can, remembering the feeling of the wind whipping through my hair and just how freeing it really felt. Never losing my breath afterward, I would just pick up and start running again. Not bothering with the people surrounding me, not worrying if they were watching me or not. I just ran because it felt good and I liked it.

Kids pick up all sorts of things outside. Amazing things that, to them, are treasures. I have seen them bring small trophies up to the TA with so much excitement they are practically shaking, only to show a sunflower seed someone must have dropped while eating a snack. It doesn't matter, they won't think about where it came from, instead they will place it in their pocket and keep it as a trinket for a short while.

Now that spring is here and the ground is no longer wet, the kids play this marvelous game. I was told it was a twist on dodgeball, because instead of throwing it, you kick the ball. If the other team catches it then the kicker is out.

But these kids changed the rules.

They play differently, they separate into grades, there is no picking... no one is chosen last. One grade on one team, the other grade on the other team. They kick the ball and catch it, and kick it again. No one wins, no one loses, no one scrutinizes, a never ending game of fun.

I'm told that they changed the rules of their own accord, they didn't want anyone's feelings to get hurt and this was their decision. I've been told that teachers and the principal even have tried getting them to play different games ie. football, basketball, soccer. But they always go back to this game... it is incredible really.

I think we forget, when we grow up just how good it feels to not have any worries, to be carefree, yes... not everything is hunky dory for kids. But do you remember what it was like to peddle your bike so fast up the hill that you thought your legs were going to fall off, just to see if you really could jump it at the top? Do you remember how it felt if you did get off the ground, even if it was just a hair? It felt like you were flying...

When does the innocence go away? Why does the outside world effect us so much? Is life really so stressful that we can't just let go and feel the breeze in our hair again? What are we afraid of?

The Strange Awards :)

2010-08-14T06:38:00.000-07:00

*Cranks the rust off the unused door of bloggy*

*flexes fingers*

Aaaaaaand GO!

Hello my bliggidy blogger friends, I have not forgotten you!! Nor have I forgotten my blog, big changes in my RL have caused me to cease and desist on more the more pleasurable aspects of my life at the moment. But onto bigger and stranger news!!! (Thanks to Mr. Alan W. Davidson and Onipar for my doubly nominated Strange award!!)

The 'Strange Men in Pinstripe Suits' award is given to only the strangest of folk, and as the recipient of such you are deemed very strange indeed. Congratulations. Now you must go forth and celebrate the strangeness of friends (and strangers - strangers are always allowed) by nominating blogs run by strange folk. *Beware, some people don't like you to refer to them as strange…Try to avoid them if possible.

Note that Cate Gardner's short story collection 'Strange Men in Pinstripe Suits' is forthcoming this October from the fine folks at Strange Publications.

Some rules:

1. Add the logo of the award to your blog post.

2. Add a link to the person who awarded it to you (don't mess with strange people).

3. Nominate seven other blogs telling us why you think the recipient is strange enough to deserve the award.

4. Leave a message for those nominated on their blogs.

5. And, if you email catephoenix(at)gmail(dot)com and tell her you've received the award for your strangeness, she'll enter you in the biggest kick-ass Strange Men competition ever. Details over at strangemeninpinstripesuits.com (click on the award link on the home page)

So them be the rules behind this strange contest. Do check out her link as there a some cool prizes available.

And so I bequeath this award, and all the accompanying strangeness, to the following people who are among the most strange that I know (and adore like crazykins)...

1.) I would like to extend this award to The Loverly Miss Shadowflame for her blog The Darker Side of the Fire, she lurks in the shadows, writes wickedly, and has amazing insights... stop by, be amazed and impressed by her amazing impressive strangeness!!

2.) Miss Bettielee of the Far Seeing Fariy Tales, never in all my life have I been as bowled over in hilarity with Bettie's great humor and strangly, fabulous words!!

3.) Mr. Lee Thompson, in his quest to love the world strange and make his dark path as enjoyable as possible Along This Path so Darkly

4.) Miss (I-got-nothing-but-harsh-truths-and-strange-funniness) Bambi, for the strange way she reports the news in the world today over at Bambi's BlogAssPhere

5.) Miss Tyhitia Green for how strangely she writes her obfuscations of reality! Obfuscations of Reality (strangely, I'm still trying to figure out what Obfuscations means :P)

6.) Miss Effie Collins, because anyone whose met her and loves her knows how wonderfully strange her Little Bits and Pieces are!

7.) Mr. Ben Solah, for the strange yet passionate way he blogs about his strange and political passions! Benjaman Solah

Of course, I would like to give out more awards, but I am a by-the-rules kind of girl! Be strange all of you, and love it!! Have a wonderful day to everyone!! Soon, I will be back, changed, strange and new things are abound! Make sure to pick up Cate's book pre-order it now!! 'Strange Men in Pinstripe Suits!!'

The Workload.... wk... cough it's been too long

2010-07-14T19:29:00.000-07:00

And so, my faithful blog has not abandoned me like I had abandoned her for two and a half weeks. She was still sitting here patient and waiting for my humble return. Which I have. RL is not threatening to tip the scale at the moment and I can take some time to blog about my loverly WIP "Cinder" and the words I have not quite, but still, kind of written.

*Flips back through the archives*

Goals from June 9th (wow! that was a long time ago*blushes*)

8k - CINDER
Write outline for new novel wriggling in my noggin.

Sadly, over the almost three weeks since I've posted a "goals" post, I've only written 10k. So that goal was busted a long time ago. However, I did manage to get two flash pieces out one coming in just under 1000 words and the other 743 words. AND I wrote out a skeleton of an outline for the so called "new" WIP.

I have been writing, just not as much as I had been. BUT now that the skirt has been straighten, I will attempt to keep this goal thing going, it's good for me.

"Cinder" has taken on some interesting twists and turns. My once small fear of not having enough words to fit 90k is squashed. The story has bloomed over the last few weeks, which may have been why I had hesitated on it for a squinch. The ideas needed to fester, boil, and ultimately ferment. I'm happy with the changes and the WIP is now, 66,957 and pretty.

Plus, I have written every day this week which is a bonus, I like to keep a steadiness when it comes to writing. I've always found it better for my progress. But I won't beat myself up if I skip a day or two here, my brain is a very complicated place. Far be it for me to judge the way it works.

New goals for new week 11:

8000 - CINDER
Sub out "Lana Plays with Matches"

For now, that's it until I get back into the swing of the fabulous blogging world!

Take care! Happy writing!!

Kara

The Momentum

2010-07-09T17:06:00.000-07:00

The last three weeks have been a whirlwind of board-games, play-doh, fireworks, walks, good food, pleasant news, and very little internet time. Now, summer vacation is rightly in check, I have found my footing.

I am sorry to say that my forward thrust on CINDER has slowed, but still in process. Producing only two chapters a week, it is resting at a cool 63,000 words and I should be able to finish it up within the next month with the firm routine I've set out for myself.

Although my blog has been on slight hiatus, I've had a lot going on in the writing world and I'm quite tickled. Daily Love has published my first ever lust-type poem "The First" (don't get excited, it's not what you think), and my fellow blogger buddy Alan W. Davidson -Conversations From Land's Edge, is wrapping up the final week from the winners of the blog contest. I am happy and surprised to say that my story "The Light and Shadows of Independence" placed third amongst a myriad of high talent. Check out the other stories that placed and received honorable mentions, you won't be disappointed. I also got word that two poems I have been revising finally got picked up by the wonderful people at EveryDayPoets. The editors there are truly wonderful and I'm giddy that they chose to work with me on the poems. No word yet on when they will be published, but I will keep bloggy updated!

I will be able to settle back into my old-new routine without much fret or struggle on my part and I can't wait to get back there, catch up on blogs and see what my other blogger buddies are up to. Plus write every day. My life moves more fluidly with a routine and I as long as I am in forward motion, I'm a happy bee.

Have a great day! Happy writing!

Oh! Please enjoy the musical stylings of one Ms. Amiee Mann!

The Ramble... horror musings on my mind.

2010-07-02T07:17:00.000-07:00

*blows dust off of blog*

Wow, it's been awhile! Sorry Bloggy, I didn't mean to neglect you, I promise! Will you every forgive me?

*blog turns nose up and sniffs*

Ah... well, what can I do?

I know!

*scene fades into background gray*

I was not what one would call a 'normal' child. I spent a good deal of my youth, adolescence, and teenage years in my room, by myself. Playing with invisible friends, devouring a mixture of RL Stein, Christopher Pike, and The BabySitter's Club. Walking through the woods of my back yard, wondering what darker things lie beneath the trees. The only scary movie that ever scared me was The Dark Crystal (And it was bc of those damn puppets *shudders* blech) . I couldn't get enough of the fascinating beauty that was the shaded side of life. I was enthralled, entertained and I hungered for more.

Yes, I was afraid of Santa Clause, the dark and bugs. But that's not what molded my mind to work the way it is. I simply was born this way.

Where other girls were having tea parties, dressing up and playing barbies, running around carefree willy-nilly, I was playing funeral, "Go to The Hospital and Die," and my barbies were kidnapped, tortured and then they managed to find their way out of the horrid mess all on their own. I loved my barbies (so much so that I didn't stop playing with them until I was fourteen), I just played differently than other kids.

I don't know what caused my love of all things macabre, I don't know why my mind works this way. It simply does, and I'm proud of it.

Many people who truly know me aren't surprised. But if you see me on the street, you wouldn't know that I was a person who enjoyed the twisted and sick over a love story. I'm a petite, brunette with chocolate eyes that sparkle. I love life, I always want to help people, I want to give and I'm actually so peppy sometimes I make myself a little sick.

I have had people, close friends, ask "Why can't you write something happy?" I've had a parent ask what they did to make my mind this horrible way. And yet, I sit back and think what's wrong with the way I think? It's me... it's who I am, and I am not going to apologize for it. If I can accept it why can't they?

Why in the world do people have to judge one another? I write horror. It's what I do, most of my main characters wind up dead in my short stories. Or they wind up with severe damage. I think it's more real that way.

I was never a girl who believed in faerie tales because it always seemed like the princesses got the short end of the stick on many sides, happy endings with their man, who came to their rescue. That was never for me. I still get pissed when I watch Disney's version of Sleeping Beauty and Flora and Fawna give Brier Rose "Beauty" and "Song" before "Intelligence," I don't understand it now, and I didn't understand it then, even when I was six. Happily Ever After's don't exist in real life. There is no riding off into the sunset to live eternal bliss. That's just not how life works.

That is a part of the beauty of horror. While some of it is far fetched, there is a realness to it, an honesty that I have always truly respected, even when I was a child. Yes, it's fiction and fiction can be whatever we make it. But people, start remembering that just because we (horror writers/movie makers) think something, write it down and make it a story that doesn't mean that I'm actually going to chop my kids and husband up, bury them in the back yard, only to have their vengeful spirits come back to haunt me and drag me to hell... anyone who truly knows me knows that I'm a kitten. Sweet, lovable, cheery and I'm a good person.

Imagination is a wonderful thing and if we only stop looking at one another, let our minds work in they way the are supposed to, I would think that the world would be less harsh.

*Bloggy hugs Kara*

See! Now we've made up! Yay!

OH! And I've got a poem up at The Cynic Online! (sort of goes with the blog post.) Check it out when you get the time!

The Publishment.... new poem up @ The Cyinc Online

2010-06-16T04:49:00.000-07:00

Hey!! I have a new poem up at "The Cynic Online/Cafe Del Soul" called Making Room - this one's not so dark, erm... well.... it talks of burning flesh and devil's, but in a *good* way! Take a gander if you have the time and Thanks in advance!

I'm particularly excited about this because not only does "The Cynic Online" have really good poets/poems, but they also have great stories! I'm hoping once I get a few more shorts in order that I'll get a certain one published here as well. The stories are entertaining, not so horror-ish, but cynical nonetheless, well worth a read if you get a moment.

Other contributing poets :

Life's Decisions by Anthony Dedakis;
The Purple Flower by Maxwell Baumbach
Goat Rider by Scott Gray; Reality by Nabanita Deshmukh;
Write Yet Another by James Dye; Hard Work by Alphonso Amos;
Climb Into a Rainbow by Tom Snee; Making Room by KM McElhinny;
Model Citizen by Tarik Linthicum; Truth by Marc Carver;
The Rain by Steve De France

Have a great Day and Happy Writing!

The "Black Rainbow" by: Miss Effie Collins

2010-06-14T11:55:00.001-07:00

Hey all!! Part one of the the four part novelette BLACK RAINBOW is now available for a read-a-roo at Piker Press.

Fox Thomas is back from the military. Living with his mother and brothers again, with not much to look forward too. Now, all he has is time. He's not one to chase rainbows, Fox doesn't believe in gold or luck, until little Emma, all grown up and married walks his way.

The ending to part one will leave you drooling for more. Read it! You won't be sorry!!

The Word-Love

2010-06-13T04:11:00.000-07:00

This morning I got a hankering to blog about my love-o-words. I'm a writer, it goes without saying, right? Probably.

A simple post-twenty minutes tops. Or, it should have been, anyone who reads my blog knows that nothing ever runs smoothly for me. :D (Which just comes with being a parent, I'm going to assume).

So far this morning I have had three false starts. Yes, a cartoon called "Chuggington" for background noise caused my distraction the first time, now I have music playing softly in my ears. Then a crying, overtired boy who doesn't want to be in bed, but has no other choice, because he decided to wake up at three o'clock this morning and have an intellectual conversation with Mommy about tornadoes and weather, has turned the lightest of issues into the death of an imaginary friend (or what it would be like). I've since calmed him down, and got him to lie down for a little while. Just to rest (bc sleeping is the worst punishment in the world for my kids).

The funny thing is that upon my third attempt, I found stumbling words, my hankering long gone, the easy flow of fabulous evaporated to the place where unwritten words go. (Does anyone know? I haven't figured it out just yet. My two wavering ideals are either they hop from brain to brain until someone uses them, or they turn into Muse dust). And so the reason for the actual ramble of this post is because I remembered things seem to flow easier if I follow an actual train of thought than trying to force anything.

Hence the "fun" fumbling anecdote of nothing quite important, but still somewhat pertinent for the development of this post. (heh, you should see the first couple of drafts from my stories...)

A few months ago while I was reading POETS AND WRITERS magazine they spoke of a fabulous little word site called WORDNIK. It's cute, new and interesting. While I don't recall everything the article said about it, I do remember that where some sites only have a capacity for a certain number of words, Wordnik has an obscene amount. (Again, the numbers have dissuaded me)A little blurb from the "About" page...

**Traditional dictionaries make you wait until they've found what they consider to be "enough" information about a word before they will show it to you. Wordnik knows you don't want to wait—if you're interested in a word, we're interested too!

By "information," we don't just mean traditional definitions (although we have plenty of those)! This information could be:

* An example sentence—we have tons of examples and gobs of other data for most words. But even if we've only found one sentence, we'll show it to you. And we'll show you where it came from.
* Related words: not just synonyms and antonyms, but words that are used in the same contexts. Cheeseburger, milkshake, and doughnut aren't synonyms, but they show up in the same kinds of sentences.
* Images tagged by our friends at Flickr: want to know what a pout looks like? We'll show you.
* Statistics: how rare is tintinnabulation? Well, we think you'll see it only about once a year. Smile? You might see that word many times, every day.
* An audio pronunciation—and you can record your own!
* Something YOU tell us! Use the "Comments" and "Contribute" links to tell us something—anything—about a word.

Does that mean that there can be something in the definition that isn't kosher? Maybe, but I haven't seen any inconsistencies yet. Check it out when you get the time.

Learning new words gets me geeked. I enjoy it, and I was curious to see what other resources everyone else uses as well. Let me know if you're feeling generous. My word-o-the-day emails consist of one from Merriam-Webster, and the other from WordNik. They have entomology, different meanings, and pronunciations. Which is always fun. The best ones, or the ones that strike my fancy the most go into my "favorites" list, (a handmade list that holds such words as chrysalis, mirth, casket, valise, noetic, macabre...etc), along with my daily word fix, I also frequent Thesaurus/dictonary.com (which also contains a translator and an encyclopedia), and a rhyming dictionary at the ready. (Plus, The Bookshelf Muse does great things with descriptions along with The Non-Verbal Dictionary)

I supposed it goes without saying that I love word games (ie. Scrabble, crossword puzzles), and I make up my own words too (I think every writer does that tho, it comes from the creative part of us. jazziment, synopsisize, publishment... etc, nothing fancy, just play, if you will).

And I also have four dictionaries (one - the twenty pound, unabridged 2001 Webster dictionary), two thesauri, and three foreign language dictionaries (Russian, Italian and Gaelic).

I prefer the term multi-faceted abnormal, thank you very much. I'm a word-geek and I'm proud of it!

The WorkLoad.... wk 10.

2010-06-09T13:07:00.000-07:00

*snurffle* I can't believe I've been doing this for ten weeks. It seems like it's been so much shorter *sniffle* but time does have a tendency to slip away *sniffle* from us doesn't it? I had this whole long schpeal planned out for my blog today since RL has stolen my blogging time, yet again. *snurffle* (Sorry! I'll catch up soon, I've not forgot my favorite blogs! *sniffle*)And today has been no exception, although I'm not short on time today the crappy weather has me down for the count with a full head of "swell-Kara's-sinus'-up-to-push-her-eye-balls out-of-her-head-itis" it's no fun. But I must stay on track less I fall of the face of my world *snurffle* and have it crumble into nothingness. (trying to rebuild from nothing is harder than staying on track, even when I feel like my head is about to explode). *aaaachooo!* (and possibly a tad over dramatic...)

Kay last week's goal:

8k - CINDER
Sub one thing out.

Done and done. *sniff, sniff*

I wrote over 12k last week for CINDER, leaving me at 43k for the WIP so far and I subbed three things out (poems) I have gotten responses back and one was accepted while the other two would like me to rework/tweak the poems a little more. So no rejections on that note. A positive there.

New goals for next week... *Aaaccchhooo!*

8k - CINDER
Write outline for new novel wriggling in my noggin.

(I'll add the links to my other blogger buddies a little bit later. *snurffles* )

Have a *sniffle* good day!
Happy writing.

The Workload... wk 9

2010-06-02T18:22:00.000-07:00

Yup. I shot myself in the foot.

Well not literally, I'd actually like to say that real life shot me in the finger :D That's a little better. Last week I'd decided since I'd written 10k that I should make it my goal and then Hades unraveled in my house and exploded. I barely had time to write this past week. Regardless, I actually did edit and crit a couple of different works. So I wasn't completely out of the writing loop. I did however only manage to get 3k written.

The meager amount, does push me up to 32k for my WIP which rocks. This week is week four, and so I'm hoping to keep the ball rolling and stick to an even 8k, if I surpass then it's my surprise right?

(nod along with me people, it'll be easier if you just agree with me :D)

I did manage to finish my poetry revision, I am now waiting for an answer from a question I sent to the editor. I'm hoping it got there. I always worry whether or not my queries/submissions arrive at their destination. Does some evil hand of fate will snake it's way through the interwebs and pluck it into a black hole because something out there likes to torture me...

Oops. *blushes* Now I've gone off tangent, I should get on with this week's goals before boredom/fear sets inside you from the severely damaged warbling's which ride around my head.

New Goal:

8k - CINDER
Sub one thing out.

That's it. I'm trying to get the rest of my life into neat folds at the moment and I'm going to stick with what I know I can do for now.

Have a great week and Happy Writing!

The Publication -- My poem over at SNM Horror!

2010-05-30T21:23:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone! My poem SYMPHONIC DEATH, is over at SNM Horror Magazine!

Other contributing poets:

Mike Green - Her Unsober Ways, Effie Collins - Brothel of Wicked Fantasy, Thom Olausson - The Blood Curse, Michael Hanson - An Artist, Kurt Newton -Holocaust Beauty Pageant, John Boden - Scree, Damien Grintalis -Terrible Beauty, K.M. McElhinny - Symphonic Death, Theresa Newbill - Black and White, Steven Marshall - A Thought in the Black

Thanks!
Happy writing!

The Animation

2010-05-28T13:47:00.000-07:00

I'm a very animated person.

I have the stereotypical folly of an Italian moving their hands when speaking. Not only do I move my hands, but the more excited I become, the more animated I grow. Pacing, moving about the house or my environment. I use a lot of space to keep up with my mind. If I sit still I wind up flubbing my thoughts, and am unable to focus on the conversation. Which annoys the conversationalee who thinks I'm not listening. I understand, I wouldn't want someone not paying attention when I spoke. So I move or do things to keep the conversation flowing. In my small circle of friends/family, Dramamine has been mandated from the conversational journeys I take them on.

I don't find this particular attribute to be irritating, and the good people in my life do what they can to cater to my special quirk.

Recently, I've noticed this habit incorporated through my writing. When I'm sitting in front of the keyboard, enmeshed within my story and stumble on what the next word will be, I start moving my hands if the subject in question is touch. I pull my face with the emotion of the character, I get goosebumps for a certain situation, hold my breathe with a character under tension, release a breathe in relief...shrug, wink, furrow my brows, etc...

Not only do I hear the characters voice, see the sights, smell the smells, but now I'm expressing their emotions. It's possible the characters are trying to over throw me and take my body for their own personal conquest in world domination...

Happy writing!

The Workload... wk 8

2010-05-26T12:21:00.001-07:00

Another week, more numbers, some goals met, one not so much. I have no cute stories or witty commentary to feed anyone today. Mackenzie, left me word-drunk. I've been forehead deep in my story. It's been an interesting ride. I've discovered a new (quite creepy) character, not sure what's in store for her, where she came from or what she is going to be for MC, but anyway you slice it, very exciting :D

My goals last week:

CINDER - 8000
Sub pieces out (I will do this!)
Two poems

Instead of 8k for CINDER, I managed to do 10+. I honestly didn't think I would hit 8, then I had two killer days where I wrote an amazing amount. I'm closing in on 30k within the next couple of days. YAY!!

I'm happy to announce I did sub out a microfiction piece and three poems. So that goal was done. (Only took me two weeks to do it. But hey, late is better than never!)

No poems this week tho. I have two brewing in my head, but I got a revision request from a zine that I've been dying to get into so I'm going to put all of my focus on that poem until it's just right.

This week's goals:

CINDER-10k
Finish and sub out poem.
Beta one story.

Also, the end is coming near for May's Shock Totem Flash Contest. We've been on pins and needles wondering what's the who from the stories. They were all incredible pieces and I can't wait to see who the lucky winners are. I'm just jazzed I got to be a part of it and the feedback for my own story will surely help my writing.

Don't forget to pop over to Mr. Alan W. Davidson's blog for the flash contest over there!

and of course, those valiant writers who are still posting their goals as well! Give them some love too folks! K. Allen Wood, Shadowflame, and Effie (plus when you stop over to Effie's blog, you can listen to her wicked story on ShadowCast). Hugs are nice but kind words are even better...

A little something from Ricky Gervais and the fabulous show EXTRA'S to keep your warm fuzziness lasting through the night.

Thanks All! Have a great week!
Happy writing.

The Contest - On Conversations from Land's End

2010-05-24T14:12:00.000-07:00

Mr. Alan W. Davidson, fine author of Conversations from Land's End will be having his blogoversary soon! To celebrate he's hosting his first ever flash fiction contest on his blog and he wants YOU to send in your best holiday flash pieces to him.

The contest is Holiday themed, to celebrate The Victoria Day Weekend, (Memorial Day in the US) and his year anniversary. The Deadline is June 20th. Check out the prizes and everything! While spitting on any judge is not allowed there are many other fun things you can do to torment the nice people who are helping Alan pick the winners.
(for a full list of rules click linky)

Go and join in the fun Peeps, Alan is a right nice fellow and won't bite (even tho his stories do!)

happy writing and good luck to all who join!

The Day... Sunday March, 23 2010

2010-05-23T11:02:00.000-07:00

I have been in a blog funk as of late, coming up with plenty of ideas to spout out to the kind readers of my page, but nothing has come to fruition. The Vocabulary (about my geeky love of words), The Running (where I compare running to writing), The Negativity (where I talk about the negative effects our thoughts have on us and how we combat them each and every day), The Critiques (where I discuss how I learned how to crit before I learned how to write a proper story and how important it is to me). Lots of ideas, and yet nothing to show for it. I'm sure those ideas will blossom in my lil brain soon enough, but for now a little story about my day.

Everyday can not go as planned. ("Ain't that the truth!" someone screams over from left-center). Today was like this for me. I woke up at six o'clock feeling rested, finally over my insomnia episode, and started to plan out what I would do today. Wake up, start laundry, eat breakfast, sweep, dishes, get kids dressed, go running, make brownies with the kids. My brother and his newly blushing fiance were coming over at noon so that gave me plenty of time, and we would have brownies to celebrate the occasion. :D

It was a sound plan. Then I fell back asleep.

I shot up out of bed at 9 am. My children were nestled in front of the television watching old episodes of Tom and Jerry, munching on cereal. Unfettered that mommy had slept in.

I didn't allow that to bother me. I had lost three hours, but still, I could do what I'd planned if I timed everything properly. I got myself something to eat, took my vitamins, read and started the laundry. I sat down to write, figuring a short half an hour while breakfast settled in my stomach would leave just enough time to go running and then make brownies.

The phone rang.

"Hey! We're on our way over!" said the blushing fiance. "Is that okay?"

"Oh, I thought you were coming over at noon?"

Nope. Turned out it was already ten thirty, and my brother had told me between eleven and twelve. They were already in the car, on their way over to my house so I couldn't say, "No, it's not okay, I have plans! The brownies aren't made yet, I'm not even dressed!" So instead, I said "Sure, come on over!"

I threw on some clothes, kissed the computer goodbye, (writing would have to wait), and brushed my teeth. Just as my foot hit the kitchen to clean, they walked through the door. Scratch the kitchen...

I will spare the details of the visit. However, they asked me, my husband and children to be in their wedding. :D (Keep reading, I promise it will be worth it).

After they left, I was starving, but I wanted run. If I ate first, I would have to wait again so, I would eat as soon as I got home. On my run I decided it was time to push myself just a tad harder. So I decided to run to the center of town (not far, probably a mile and a half one way).

When I run I always prepare myself for many things. Running is pretty uncomfortable, I've learned to make myself as comfortable as possible ie., dress for the weather, take my allergy medication before I go, use the bathroom. All of the things, which help make the process harder, I remove from the situation.

I couldn't find my running pants, I threw on sweats, and left my house. After a while, seeing as I hadn't eaten, my brain got fuzzy. A little voice in my head pulled me to the right and said "You should turn here! It'll make your run shorter!!" I ignored it. I was slightly heated from the sweats but I knew I could push through the discomfort. I wasn't having a problem breathing, I was just hot. Running does that to a person :D

I kept going. Thinking about my blog and how it would be a great story to tell all of you how I pushed myself and how good it felt to do something I didn't think I could accomplish. I would prove it to myself that things weren't as hard as they seemed to be in the moment.

At an intersection, a little voice said "Turn left here! You're not going to make it!"

I shrugged the voice off again. Negative thoughts are always trying to beat people down and if we listen to them we'd never accomplish anything.

Seeing the traffic light pole ahead told me I was in the center of town. "See?" I thought, "It didn't even feel like it was that long." And it hadn't. I hit the pole, turned and continued to run home. Three seconds later I realized I had to pee. Bad.

If anyone has ever run in CC, they'd know that it's okay to pee your pants (at least it was on my team, I never did, but plenty of the guys I knew had) as long as you kept going. But, I couldn't pee my pants. I was already dizzy, weak and peeing my sweats was not a good idea considering I would have to RUN home in wet sweats, when I was already shriveling under the hot sun. I held it, kept running and made my way home feeling a grand sensation of accomplishment, knowing that I did what I didn't think I could. I felt great for proving to myself I could run three miles with no problem, not listening to the little voice in my head that told me to turn around. I stretched and ate lunch and now I've never been better.

....Not quite. :D

Any woman whose had a child knows how impossible it is to hold your bladder. By the time I hit the funeral home I could barely contain it. Without my permission my bladder leaked and then let go at full force. Yes, I peed my pants. I also gave up trying to run in wet sweats. I hadn't prepared myself. Not only that, I haven't been running long enough, sleeping enough and eating well enough to have been able to attempt this run.

The funny thing, is that I thought I would be hard on myself for walking the rest of the way home, peeing my pants and not accomplishing my goal. However, I wasn't. That surprised me the most. Then I realized that there are times when we push ourselves TOO hard. And everything backfires on us. I can laugh at myself now because while yes, I am a thirty year old woman who peed her pants while running, in public, no less (and now writing about it on my VERY public blog) I'm not embarrassed. The fact of the matter is that I tried. I tried, and failed, but I didn't cry, I didn't get embarrassed, and I didn't become defeated.

It happened. There is nothing I can do about it, and at least tried. When I got home I showed my husband, my kids laughed and my daughter gave me a hug.

But I learned something today, (ah-ha! the point you're saying) just because I didn't finish my goal today doesn't mean I won't be able to do it tomorrow. I will be able to run this route again, I just have to give myself some time. Not push too hard and always, always, always remember to use the bathroom before I leave the house.

I am now showered, sitting here writing a non-writing blog entry (hope I didn't gross too many people out btw) and posting a completed post.

Have a great day folks!

The Workload... wk 7

2010-05-19T13:44:00.000-07:00

I believe this post will be short and sweet. Still not much energy, but I think I'm going running later. I've either been sleeping like poo, or completely overstimulated. It's funny being me these last couple of weeks. :D

On a different note, I believe I caught up with everyone's blog. If I missed you I apologize, it wasn't intentional.

Onto the goals, last week:

Beta two stories.
CINDER - 8000 words
Sub out two things
Two Poems.

Whan, whan, whaaaannnn.... I didn't sub anything out. Nor did I write poems.

I did manage to write 8280 words for CINDER and 1696 words for a collaborative piece I've been working on and off for the last couple months. Bringing my word count to 9976 for the week!

My beta work is finished as well!

And that's about all yo. Now I'm feeling like K. Allen Wood, he says that his word count posts are always boring... maybe I should throw up a fun picture... *looks for a picture*

Hope you all enjoy Artie. He's the strongest man in the world.

Eh, I know, I know a weak try at humor. But I couldn't leave my post with just the numbers and goals. And Artie can pump up any post :D

Now for next week. I'd love to actually have a week where I hit 10k, but that goal will have to wait until my head is less fuzzy...*wonders* does anyone ever get used to insomnia? I'm going to shoot for 8k on CINDER again.

Goals:

CINDER - 8000
Sub pieces out (I will do this!)
Two poems

And that's about it. Write good words! Visit the folks who are keeping track too!! Darkly Shadow, Deadly Effie, Shady K. Allen Wood,

Happy writing!

The Workload, wk 6. (late, but never better)

2010-05-14T14:19:00.000-07:00

First off I have to apologize for not reading anyone's blog this week. I have been having a hella time sleeping; my brain shut down Tuesday and didn't start back up until this morning. Much apologies. I will catch up, I promise. :D

Onto writing news. MC has taken a new and interesting path with the start of this WIP. I'm enjoying it, she isn't a victim anymore (yay!! no more whiny girl, which is what I disliked about her the most). She's become tarnished, complex and she's gotten some deeper (much darker) layers. I think it's fabulous. Mackenzie, my muse, is back in full force. Today, when I was writing chapter six, it was very hard to stop. *Sigh* I do love that. (the only reason I did stop was bc my daughter woke up from her nap mind you).

Let's see... *looks back to last weeks goals* AH-HA!

CINDER - 8000 words + outline
Sub out two things
Two Poems.

My outline is resting at a cool 19,372 words, which takes the story up to chapter 20. I'm thinking this novel will have about 90k and 27 chapters. That of course is ballpark, bc I really have no idea. For the actual WIP, I wrote 9985 words so I surpassed my goal of 8000 and I'm heading into chapter seven. *shakes with anticipation*

I did not sub out two things. No excuses, I just didn't do it. I've got a handful of things ready to send out this Monday.

Poems, I wrote nine instead of two. I'm finding that every other week short word bursts come to me in a deluge. So, while I'll still have a goal for poems, it may not happen every week.

/recap.

Onto brighter goals.

For next week:

Finish Beta's (two stories) DONE!
CINDER - 8000
Two poems
Sub out the prepared poems, and microfiction piece.

The crazy kids keeping track of their goals are doing a heck of a job as well. Stop by and see them too! Mr. K. Allen Wood, Lady Shadow and Lovely Effie

Enjoy your week folks! Happy writing!

The Issue # 2, Shock Totem is almost here!

2010-05-12T09:34:00.001-07:00

In light of recent events... (ie. seeing this wicked cover and deciding to blog about it). I have opted to delay my workload post for a couple of days. My friends over at Shock Totem, horror and macabre magazine, have been working hard to get out their second issue and here is the cover.

Soon.

It should be done very soon.

Now we just have to wait. With the little teaser, here is some information about issue 2.

Author's published in the issue include: Cate Gardner, Grá Linnaea & Sarah Dunn, Nick Bronson, Christian A. Dumais, David Jack Bell, Ricardo Bare, Kurt Newton, Leslianne Wilder, Vincent Pendergast

Contributions by: K. Allen Wood (editor's note), John Boden (conversation with James Newman), and the lovely Mercedes M. Yardley (Abominations: Hide the Sickness: an article)

In addition: Strange Goods and Other Oddities (Reviews) and Howling Through the Keyhole (Author Notes)

**Artwork for the cover done by Hicham Haddaji. (oops! forgot to put that in, sorry Hicham!)

I've personally had the opportunity to read some of these fine people's work either at Shock Totem or elsewhere. Each and every author brings a unique style and creative prowess with the stories I've read. I assure you that there will be plenty of macabre and horror to go around.

If my feeble attempt to sway you with words hasn't helped, pop over to the Shock Totem Shop and pick up the first issue, wet your taste buds, and get ready for #2! The front cover is just as gorgeous as this one, but you're going to have to take a look see yourself to see if I'm telling the truth or not. (You can also find these lovely magazines at Barnes'n Noble or Amazon)

Along with the issue Shock Totem is a great place to hang. People are friendly with a dry, dark wit I adore. The mag has gotten great reviews from lots of different peeps, and I am super glad I found it to help hone my writing skills. Stop by and stay for a bite. (Don't worry, we'll only take your arm or a finger).

As for my goals. just wanted to say that yes, I met them and I'm going to throw up the # 8000k once again. The WorkLoad will be in a couple of days. Just enjoy this post until then! Thanks folks!!

Happy Reading! Go buy your copy of issue #1 today!!

The Dirty Comments....

2010-05-08T20:00:00.000-07:00

LOL, every time I hit a certain number of comments I get these wonderful "remarks" in Chinese. Of course, it's spam. So I'm going to figure out how to use a slight moderation. I'm not a firm believer against porn, the comments are easy enough to ignore(that's what the delete key is for), everyone has a right to see or do whatever they wish. I just don't want it on my blog. At first they were little blurbs. Out of curiosity, I translated them through Google. Now, the blurb gods have grown angry with my delete key. They've turned lengthy and into advertisements for their videos or photos.

From this: "Life is a walk in moonlight."

to "Romantic moonlight forum 85cc adult movie area pastes a movie area Yuan really crisp yellow movie night of chatroom night of sentiment video Internet forum night of fervor chatroom one-to-many beautiful woman video one-to-one video one-to-one video to chat clearly the one-to-one video spicy younger sister video and music video chatroom sweetheart treasure direct seeding to paste the piece to play the beautiful woman person video net beautiful woman short film free to take a look at the video to make friends net 50024 rainbow avdvdsex888 free to look that movie Asia Asia dvd the disc hundred matter free av video chats the net free on-line aa piece to take a look at 85CCsex to paste piece net s383 sentiment color clathria ka ripe female autodyne sex free adult movie situation work place happy thing video swim suit Xiu to develop the net to make friends the free adult movie, 104 free becomeThe human sentiment color literature novel video anchor escapes clothes Xiu gogo2sexplus28 forum Mick to synthesize the forum chatroom to make friends av adult net g8mm middle video bad friend forum video beautiful woman msvt the person chatroom video net to like the chatroom network help handing over 168 forum spicy younger sisters to paste the chart Hsinchu help to hand over the 38ga piece to download the national biggest club ok video, video hot dance Xiu"

No offense to the woman trying to make money, but they can do it somewhere else. My blog isn't a freeway for their ventures anymore.

The Bullet

2010-05-07T05:13:00.000-07:00

I bit it.

The bullet I mean. I threw in the towel with my other WIP. I'm starting over. I know, I know it's usually the kiss of death when it comes to WIP's. Every article and book I've read on writing speaks true against it. I understand what I'm going to put myself through. I just can't justify spending anymore time on a story where my MC keeps saying "I don't know what's going on... but I'm going to find out." (and then she doesn't).

Ick.

I was becoming defeated and yes, while I'm sure that happens with everyone, I was beginning to grow beyond frustrated. My new outline is firmly in place, along with word count goal. My characters are laid out. I just have to write the story. I have a great resolve in doing this and I've set my finishing goal for September.

This may be unprecedented, but I'm following my gut. It's going to get done. The characters are still talking to me. Albeit they aren't as nice as they once were because I haven't figured out their story yet.

I'm not even going to reference the rough draft. I'm going to view this as a completely different story. All of what I knew has fallen away anyway. So I'm starting over. I want to get this story done. Sticking with the original draft won't get me there. I can feel it. As for now I have no word count on my new MS and I wash my hands of the other one.

On a different note, (haven't figured out how these subjects go hand in hand, but I'm sure they do) I have not been sleeping well. I'm currently in my second week of not smoking and the withdraw symptoms are starting to take a toll on me. I'm irritable, and I can't concentrate on much. However I know these side effects are only temporary and my goal to quit will only get me further improved clarity for other aspects of my life. But the lack of sleep mixed with the lack of nicotine is a fine cocktail for a cranky Kara. Even with the patch. Which is wonderful btw, I highly recommend the patch to anyone who wants to quit smoking and doesn't have a heart murmur (I had a friend use the patch who had a murmur and the results weren't pretty. That's all I'm saying. I'm not a doctor of course).

The craving to have a cigarette is basically void. Which is fabulous because I'm not fighting the undying need to have just one more hit AND the bitchy symptoms. Yes, I'm craving coffee (which is so weird bc I don't drink coffee often...like ever) and Tollehouse Softbatch chocolate chip cookies, but that's it despite the sudden burst of frustration over something which normally wouldn't frustrate me. All temporary things. And the irritation doesn't last long. As long as I let it out. :D (poor McElhinny household).

Between the lack of sleep and the nicotine withdraw I don't need another frustration. I actually have a decent bit plodded out in my outline so I'm pleased and the beginning is much better already. I promise, to myself that I will finish this novel. It may have a different name in the end. But I will finish it.

*spits the bullet out of her mouth*

Now, I can rest a little easier, and maybe get some sleep.

The Workload... wk 5 (oops! last week was 4)

2010-05-05T12:13:00.000-07:00

**Warning! Post is linked up! :P**

So I'm in the middle of writing chapter seventeen of Cinder and I can't seem to stop drifting. I've got about 1k under my belt so I'm sure I'll be able to focus on it, in a little while anyway. I thought I'd get this started.

First off upon Mr. Aaron Polson's recommendation, I changed my goal to 7k instead of 6k. Turned out to not be so hard after all and according to my wordcount sheet I wound up with 8611 (thanks Aaron!) words on Cinder for last week jumping from chapter twelve to chapter seventeen.

It would have been higher except Shock Totem is holding their Bi-monthly flash fiction contest this month; I am bound and determined to participate this time. The story started out as 2045 words and I've managed to whittle it down to 988. Saturday I poured over it, neglecting Cinder and yesterday, I edited. So there were two days not spent on my WIP. However, I'm pleased with the results of this challenge. I think the most important lesson I learned with it is that I'm really growing as a writer.

I've also decided that Cinder needs an outline. My characters are jumping all over the place and I can't seem to keep up. I had one when the story was third person, and I pretty much know what's going to happen, but my MC and her buddies are running a muck without a leash. I'm going to finish up my chapter (or hit 2k today) then sit down to loosely plot out this story.

I'm a fairly organized person. This may be why I've been having trouble reining in the edges of this WIP. I don't stick true to the outlines once the story takes off. I'm not OCD over it. I just think it helps me lay the frame of the story down without freaking out about what's going on.

Overall goals from last week:

11,055 words all together
1/2 poem (my goal was two poems, so I failed there)

As for my poetry, I wrote a half of a poem this past week and I got three of the seven I wrote last week ready for sub. Onto better news!

**I received two acceptances from The Cynic Online, my poem Making Room will go Live on June 16th and my other poem Faeries Aren't the Same Without Wings will go live on July 1st. I was tickled. I heart those poems but I didn't really believe they could get published. Which goes to show I am still learning.

(I think I'm going to start a drinking game. Every time I say "I'm a new writer" or "I'm still learning" ya'll can take a shot! It'll be fun :D)

So now I'm off to work on chapter seventeen which I'll finish by the end of the night. Don't forget to stop by K. Allen Wood's, Shadow's and now Effie's blog to root them on (though Effie wants to be kicked in the pants, I think she did a great job last week) with their wordcount. Ben Solah only posts monthly goals but he kicked April's ass so if ya have time congratulate him as well.

Next week's goals:

CINDER - 8000 words + outline
Sub out two things
Two Poems.

That's it for now.

Happy writing!

Oh, and one more thing. THE CLOSED DOOR post made me realize that I've been freaking out once a month about writing for the last couple of months. I'm going to start a Feature Monthly Post called THE FREAK OUT or THE PANIC pt___<--insert # here.

(If anyone else has any better names please feel free to toss them at me. I throw like a girl, but I can catch very well.)

The Closed Door

2010-04-30T11:30:00.000-07:00

I wish I could go back two years ago and have the innocence I did when I wrote the rough copy of my WIP.

At the moment I have a battle raging in my head. One that is fighting the "Closed Door", it wants me to start from the beginning. To get my words straight and clean. Get everything perfect and do it right! BUT the other side is telling me that there is no need for that. This is the second time I have re-started this WIP. If I start again, I will plunge myself back into a deep portal of the never-ending story and Cinder will never get done.

I seem to keep forgetting that I write a jungle of words only to have to weed through them afterward.

When I first started (before I was comfortable enough to call myself a writer) I let the characters speak to me. They showed me and I would write it down. My motto was "It doesn't matter, I'll change it later..." now I'm doubting myself. I know more now than I did then and I'm left wondering if ignorance is bliss.

Of course I don't really believe in blissful ignorance however, I do think there is something to it. I want to shed the nagging doubts wreaking havoc on my brain and just allow the words to flow. Who cares if I write the same thing over three times? I'll fix it in the rewrite. RIGHT? (not yelling at ya'll, just trying to make myself see the point).

That is correct. For now I have to plug away, pull forward and keep going. This story needs to be finished. It NEEDS to have an ending (and a middle). I want to see what happens and let the story pour out, without second guessing every word written. I want to feel like I'm accomplishing something.

BUT I AM. That's the part that is killing me the most. I've written over 1800 words today and I'm not done. There are bits and pieces of solid plot. I have ground to stand on. The characters are still talking to me. I just don't know where they're taking me. Maybe that's what I'm doubting...

I'll drive myself into a slow pit of madness if I continue to allow the nagging doubt to get to me.

The Workload... wk 3

2010-04-28T12:07:00.000-07:00

And in now traditional fashion I have moved onto week three. Week three is always a big week because once a human does something straight for three weeks more than likely it becomes a habit. Just a little fun fact for anyone who didn't know that. I'm chock full of useless knowledge.

As for my goals I exceeded some and didn't crack a shell at the others.

The goal I failed in (always save the better news for last) is my short story Idle Parts. I didn't even dent it this week. BUT I was on vacation for four days so I'm not going to beat myself up about it. I still ended up writing every day. Just not that story.

I ended up with seven poems when my goal was two, while they still need work, at least I got them out and some even have potential... or so I was told :P

And for CINDER, I wrote 5440 words yesterday. It was my first day back, and I had two hours to myself in the morning, then a couple more hours later. These do not include any edits for this story because I'm writing it with the door closed.

"Write with the door closed, rewrite with the door open" Steven King's On Writing book. The best advice he ever received. I'm following it. :D

So I'm deep in the throes of chapter thirteen and things are already taking form much different then what I expected. I'm rolling with it and I'm going to finish this draft sooner rather than later. I'm not worrying about anything just letting the words flow from my brain through my fingers and I'll fix it when it's finished.

Other than that, not much more to report.

5440 - CINDER
7 Poems
250 - microfiction piece
4 wonderful days spent in New York City.

Also, Ken A. Wood is still keeping up with his goals as well... pop over to EyesoreTimes to keep him on his toes!

OH. I guess I should write goals for this week as well... (duh! *slaps forehead* that's why I STARTED this thing in the first place)

Goals for next week:

CINDER - 6000
Two Poems (plus others from this week tweaked up)
Flash piece/challenge finished. (This one's between me and another writer for fun.)

And that's about it. I'm still trying to play catch-up from the vacation. So we'll see how it goes.

Happy writing!

The Challenge

2010-04-22T12:31:00.000-07:00

Last fall a writer I know started to keep track of her output on FaceBook. I was quite impressed with the numbers she was putting up. So, I challenged myself to keep up with her. (Of course she didn't know it at the time, but we spoke about it briefly and she was doing it to push herself. In turn her actions pushed me as well.) To my complete and utter amazement I did it.

She is an incredible talent and has since landed herself an agent.

Sadly, for me she's stopped posting her output on FB. However I have since completed a NaNo challenge, written poetry and have done many things I didn't think were possible with my writing.

The challenge I put to myself showed me I really can do anything if I tried. Yes, I had help. There are many people contributing and supporting me and for that I will always be eternally grateful.

Since this fall I have stopped dabbling with my writing and really come to terms with the possibility if I work hard enough I will be able to attain my goals.

I'm not boasting. I still have a lot to learn. I have only just started to come into my own. And it will take time (as much as I hate to admit that. :D) But I'm willing to work for it.

I set goals for me to push myself. While it's not an original idea I've started doing so on FB. It helps me feel like I've accomplished something. And now I see what she was talking about.

The hardest part challenging myself was that afterward I had stories but nothing to do with them. I've gotten rejection after rejection. I freaked out because I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong. I battered other writers with questions of how I could be a better writer, what markets should I sub to, what lesson was I learning?

Then my panic ceased. I sat back and looked at what I'd done to myself. I was waiting for someone to give me an answer. Then I realized I had to find it for myself.

No challenge or goal can be reached without stumbling that's just not how life works.

I've since started revising, reading articles every day (those of you who haven't been over to Magical Words really should give it a try, published authors giving advice to writers on writing. It's incredible.) I found some good writing homes with amazing people who are willing to give and take. They are also great cheerleaders. I've opened my ears to critiques and I have listened to advice on which books give the best advice.

I have really started to study the craft without going to college (bc there is no way I could afford it right now) and I've started to pay attention.

Then I got my first personal rejection with an invitation to send the story back if I chose to revise it.

It was gold to me.

And it was good advice. I'm awaiting the response still, but I feel like the story I reworked (with a little help from some fabulous ladies) really is the start of my writing career. While it might not fetch a big price, I've taken the first step in the right direction.

I don't think I am the only person out there who can do this. I know anyone can. Challenge yourself. It doesn't have to be writing, it can be anything you think you can't do, but want to. There is nothing to be afraid of, failure is apart of life and if you/I fall, get back up and try again until you reach whatever light you want.

You might find it's not as hard as your mind made it out to be.

The Workload... wk 3

2010-04-21T12:40:00.000-07:00

*sigh*

I have been putting this off all day although I'm not entirely sure why. But it doesn't matter because I'm here now!

This past week was rough writing wise. I got two short stories done, but Season's End still needs edited. I don't think I've worked so hard on a story to date. It makes me feel pretty good. Hard work will do that I guess.

Turned out I lost two day because of RL matters and so while I didn't accomplish everything I'd hoped for I believe I did okay. I knocked two stories off of my list which makes me have a sense of accomplishment and I "tried" to fix up the last three poems. I hate giving up on stuff, but I believe these three will make their way to my trunk. (shhh... don't want them to know that tho.)

On a better note, I wrote four poems, and collaborated one with a friend. Plus one of those poems got published! (See post below for link to poem.) So all in all while it was a wee bit harsh things turned out alright.

And I'm finally ahead of where I started three weeks ago. YAY!

For my short stories, I don't want to put them on hold because they've been on hold for a long time and with each little bit I write, I get better BUT... I'm going away this week for four days and will not have access to a computer. However, I will have access to a pen and notebook so we'll see. I would like to at least get Idle Parts into the second stages.

Short Stories:

The Gardner - ?
Idle Parts - 2615 first draft down.
Candy - ?
Poisoned Soul - round three.

The last three poems are done being edited. So I will simply say I'd like to get two more poems done.

And for the big one!

CINDER. My WIP. The reason I started writing in the first place. She's ready and ararin' to go. Last week I said I'd like to lay down 4k. If I accomplish this feat I will be tickled. That may mean my shorts go untouched but I'm not sure what's going to happen so I don't want to leave anything out.

My output last week:

5631 - Season's End (this does include edits, just not final)
2456 - Going Out of Business (done and done!)
3 poems edited
4 poems written

I've started becoming more organized as well. I made a word count chart for my WIP and stories so I will be able to track them more easily.

My goals for this week are:

Idle Parts - to be done
two poems of any flavor
CINDER - 4000 words.

And that's about it.

Have a great day! Happy writing!

The First Poem Published!

2010-04-19T13:50:00.000-07:00

Hey All!!! Got my first poem published over at Spilled Coffee! I'm super happy to say, that yesterday the line breaks were messed up, and with a polite note to the editor, he fixed it up toot-suite and it's now back to it's original form!

Take a gander if you have the time :D

The Phone Call

Thanks! Happy writing

The Song #6

2010-04-18T10:56:00.000-07:00

Right around the time I said goodbye to bands like Color Me Bad and EnVouge, (I was twelve) and took up to listening to the likes of Tori Amos, Liz Phair, The Pixies, Nirvana, R.E.M., NIN, Smashing Pumpkins and many more bands I do not cringe at the fact that I listened to relentlessly; I discovered a very special secret.

The song #6.

Each time I would unwrap the cellophane from my CD, my favorite would always be #6. At first I thought it a coincidence. Being a teenager I shrugged it off because I had much angsting to do. I couldn't be bothered with something that might make me happy.

As I grew up and dropped the veil of anger I pretended to have, I started to take notice. It wasn't EVERY CD, but most of them. Sometimes the faves would switch to another song on the album, but it was always #6 that got me into it. I then started to think of it as a little special secret, that maybe my favorite musicians were trying to do something nice just for me. (I also had a very overactive imagination when I was a kid :D)

Happy Phantom made me fall head over feet for Miss Tori Amos, following that with The Wrong Band on Under the Pink, and of course who could forget Mr. Zebra on Boys for Pele?

Rocket on Siamese Dream, Smashing Pumpkins. Polly on Nevermind, from Nirvana.

And it's carried on in it's traditions...

Regina Spektor's Begin to Hope - Hotel Song
The Dresden Dolls' The Dresden Dolls - Slide
Rufus Wainwright's Want - Natasha
Radiohead's OK Computer - Karma Police

Now, I won't go into the complete list of all of the different albums with song #6 as my favorite. That would take a long time and a lot of researching because sadly, while I have a wonderful memory, I am no Mensa candidate.

I just wanted to shout out a little tribute and throw in a random blog because, well, it's what I do. :D

Thank you Song #6. I've loved my little secret and now I get to share it with everyone else.

The Workload.... wk 2

2010-04-14T06:15:00.000-07:00

So... this whole goal thing? Totally working out, sort of. I have been working steady for the last week and though I've made progress I'm also standing in the same place I was. How does that happen you ask? (Believe me, I'm still scratching my head at it) However, for a little refresher... here we go.

Last week my goals were to start revising my short stories. Which I did, three of them, but they still aren't done yet. So though I worked, I'm in the same place-ish.

I've already gotten a rejection for one short which wasn't on last week. That's getting thrown up for this week as well... added goalage. :D (I wish there was a way to make devil horns cause adding goalage seems so very ominous to me :P)

Short stories: edits/revisions

Going out of Business - DONE @ 2456 words 4/15/10
Season's End - 2770- second round down, staring third round later today.
The Gardner - ?
Idle Parts - 2615 first draft down.
Candy - ?
Poisoned Soul - round three.

*Now, for my poems I actually exceeded my goals. *throws confetti up in the air* I finished four, subbed out three and wrote roughly three new poems. However, I'd like to do at least three more this coming up week, along with fixing said poems below.

Poems: edits

Confusable Mess
The Shelf
Borrowed Flesh

Also last week, I said that I would like to start posting goals for my WIP/Novel CINDER. Which I fully intend to do, though I'm not going to start writing it until next Wednesday. (That is a promise to myself. Revising and Edits are something I have to learn how to do, but I really miss writing as well.)

Starting Next Wednesday April 21st: I will write at least 4000 words for my WIP (for the week, not in one day.)

SO now to my revelations; I was freaking out because I have all of these amazing writers around me getting things published all over the place and I wondered what was wrong with me. HOWEVER! Now I realize I have to chill out. I haven't even been writing for two years yet. Comparing myself to others is not the most healthy thing and if I work hard, I know that I will get what I want. It's just not my time yet. I don't have to be an anomaly, I can just be me. I don't have to keep up with everyone. I have to put in the time, realize how to make my stories good and then it will come.

Let me tell you, when I had this little epiphany it just about blew my mind. I feel relaxed, I've slowed down and I'm really taking revising and editing seriously. This is my chosen path, the thing that makes me feel whole, and I don't need to race against anyone. *sigh of relief*

As for my output last week:

6000 words written between three short stories
3 poems edited
3 poems written
1 story crit'ed for a friend

I'm okay with this. I'm doing what I need to do and I'm also learning in the process.

**Don't forget to pop over to Lady Shadow's and Mr. Ken Wood's site's and cheer them on for posting their goals as well!! ***

... and Ken? I don't know... what doya wanna wager?

The Gore vs. The Creep, and The Why?

2010-04-10T16:41:00.000-07:00

There has been a lot of discussion of gore vs. lit. horror at the writing places I've been frequenting lately. I've been asked by members at both the df_underground and Shock Totem what flavor I (and the other users) like my horror. The other question thrown up for us is "Why?"

First off, the Why - I've always had a dark sense of the world at large, it is cold and crusty place that is what makes me feel at home. Now, I don't always need to write dark tales, I've been dared by some lovely people to write with not darkish themes, and those have turned out alright. But my home really is in the shadows that creep through the house when there is a thunder storm, or the dark corners, long forgotten in a damp basement that everyone is afraid of.

Does this make me or the other people I associate with "Bad?" No. Not at all. If anything, I believe it makes us stronger because we are ourselves with open arms, despite the strange looks, or the questions of "Why can't you write something Happy?" It's not really about happiness. I know plenty of people who write darkly who are pleasant and singing most days. We just think differently than what is considered the "norm"

Now for the other subject of this post. I enjoy gore, but only on a humorous level. In movies it's usually overdone to gross out those who can not stomach blood- letting. When I first started writing (I don't think that will ever get old. Sorry if people are tired of it, I'm still in awe that I found my nitch) my story came out dark, but I didn't think it could be horror because it didn't have gore.

For those of you who know me better than others, I tend to be a tad neurotic and a touch paranoid and that spawns a panic inside of me that could throw me off the course I was originally on (I've since worked on this problem and it happens a lot less frequently) and so, I started adding sprinklings of blood and bitty pieces of flesh to "spice" up my writing.

It was a rookie mistake on my part to be completely honest. Then, as I settled into my gut wrenching, blood-spilling self I found the term "Literary Horror" it was creepier, darker and richer. Filled with unsettling obstacles that really took me out of my own dark place and thrust me into a abyss where no light could ever go. I was fascinated. I loved it, and I started thinking I could never write something beautifully tragic.

Then I muffled the damn nervous voices (got me some duct tape and wire) in my head and really took a look at what I've written in the past. Only about four stories out of fifteen or twenty have gore. I realized where I had gone wrong, and again it pointed to the place where I should have trusted my instincts.

So I've grown in my writing, and I now know what the true meaning of staying true to yourself means. I love literary horror because it sneaks up on you, it makes you feel uncomfortable, and puts you in a place one would not normally want to be in. It makes you face things you don't want to. And frankly, while I am still learning, I am looking forward to the day where I get to place a reader inside of one of those little boxes to torture them as well.

Gore will always be there. It helps hone action scenes, and once in a while I still purge my brain of the icky and groady. But mostly I still with the creepy. It's just the way I roll.

So I pose to everyone the same questions bestowed upon me. Why horror? And which do you prefer? Gore or Creep? There are no wrong answers, only opinions :D

The Workload

2010-04-08T07:53:00.000-07:00

I've never posted goals on my blog. Then this past week hit me, I haven't written ANYTHING for my WIP in two months (seriously!?! it took me five weeks to get the rough draft out!) I've been plodding away at short stories and poems or not writing at all. I became very sad, but then I realized maybe my novel characters are hiding behind my short story characters.

What I have set for myself is a challenge of sorts, last week I started revising my short stories and tinkering with the loose ends of my poetry (they are no good to me sitting around, unfinished in their folders) after those are done, I believe I will find my novel again.

So far this week I've revised two short stories and I'm moving onto my third one today. I'm still in the learning process, but it's been a true delight for me to sit back and examine the finish products of my hard work. Honestly, I was afraid I let them "sit" for too long. But now that I'm back at them, I'm tickled with the results and I'm finding that maybe too long is just long enough.

I am going to post my workload onto my blog to track my progress. I believe this will help be keep going so I can get back to my WIP, because I miss it so.

My current workload: (titles are always subject to change)

Short stories:

Season's End - 2770 DONE!
The Gardner - ?
Idle Parts - 2615 first draft down.
Candy - ?

Poems:

Faceless(previously named - Memories Untold) -done!
Confusable Mess
Bound -- Done!
Little Blue Pill - DONE!!
The Shelf
Black Nest - done!!
Borrowed Flesh

Not too bad, now that I look at it. However, new ideas are popping up every time I turn the corner. I hope that I can keep them at bay until I finish these latest revisions.

Next week I hope to set word goals for my WIP, I'm ready to get cracking on it - she's stewed for long enough.

The Balance.

2010-03-31T15:43:00.000-07:00

I think it's more than ironic, when choosing balance as a blog topic this week, I decide to get sick. I've been trying to write this post for three days. Between hacking and sneezing it's been a rough one. :D

Currently, I am in the process of trying to get back the balance in my life. I was on a fantastic roll. I wrote everyday, read everyday and spent time in the Real World everyday (doing not so exciting things like laundry, cooking and cleaning.) I was learning so much and my writing was growing in leaps and bounds. I had a pretty neat little thing going on for months.

Then, of course, real life had to hit me in the head with a big pile of poo. My perfected system sank down into the abyss. I barely wrote, barely read and had very little time to clean. It was a mess (in more ways than one,) and while I wanted to bring back balance into my life because consistency is something I like, I couldn't seem to jump back on the damn horse.

Life, in her funny way likes playing jokes on us. She twists things around to keep us on our toes, and balance is not always possible to find. I'm pleased that I didn't allow it to get me down too much this time. I knew that eventually everything would have to settle.

Thankfully, I am fluffing out the last of the wrinkles from my unbalanced life. Balance is right over the hill (once I get over this damn bug. :D)

I am a firm believer in writing every day, even if it is nonsense. Just to keep my brain warm until I'm ready for the unnonsense to come back. Now that I'm back on kilter, I will be writing everyday, reading everyday...etc. I have a set schedule in my head that I'm going to try like mad to keep. Maybe next time, I'll be able to duck when the poo gets tossed my way and keep plugging on, maybe.

I am throwing out a question to everyone. How do you keep balance when things get rough? How do you keep on plugging away emotionally or writerly or otherwise? What works for you? I know that everyone has different methods and I'm curious to see how similar or distinct they are.

The First Short Story Published!!!!

2010-03-26T04:15:00.000-07:00

Hey All! I finally get to announce my first publishment!!

Felicity at Flashes In The Dark!

It's a short one, but I couldn't be more tickled! I actually can't believe it's happened, but I am hoping it's a sign of good things to come. :D

Please enjoy!

Happy writing
Hinny!

The Reading

2010-03-24T09:24:00.000-07:00

Before I became a writer I was a schizophrenic reader. I devoured books one after another, plowing through them like it was no one's business. Then I would burn out and not read, only to pick up another book four months later and wonder why I hadn't read for so long and the cycle would continue.

Since I've started writing, I've learned to savor the books, I don't worry about trying to finish a 400 page novel in one day. I understand how important it is for me to keep reading. And as much as I enjoyed it before, I have a better appreciation for how reading can help my writing.

Over the past couple of weeks I've noticed something amazing happening when I read. I pay attention to grammar and different styles more, and I can break down different descriptions of scenarios. It's more than helpful, with each word I read a little seed gets planted in my head. My own ideas start to sprout, and I've felt the stories help to start inspire. Fresh and new ideas that I know wouldn't be there if I wouldn't keep on the reading track.

A lot of published writers really promote reading, and while I've always read since I was a little girl, I finally understand why.

What are some stories that inspire you? Have you noticed how reading helps you in your writing? Let me know, I'd love to hear!

The Voices

2010-03-17T12:09:00.001-07:00

I hear voices in my head.

They are all knowing. They let me into a world I would not have been privy to if I would not have listened to them. They are characters seeking out vengeance, sick bastards who lust for blood, or innocent bystanders who got in the way of an antagonist without knowingly doing so.

I can write and create without said voices. They usually follow if I decide to work off an idea instead of voices alone. But, when they come on their own it always makes the story a little more special. I get to know the characters, their thoughts and feelings or what actions they would pursue if they were faced with a room full of blood, realizing only moments after - they were the cause.

It's quite fun.

One could argue that yes, these come from within me. I suppose they do, but I'm always delighted and surprised by the new developments in a character or story when the piece takes on a life of its own.

The more I write, the louder the voices get. And from where I started out, with a nineteen year old male trying to take over my body, impossible to ignore.

They are apart of my creative process. I adore listening to what the characters have to tell or show me. They come out for a reason, while I'm not entirely sure why I was chosen to tell their story, I always enjoy that little trip into my head, to learn or to grow as a writer. I'm not ashamed of the voices. I indulge in them whenever I get a quite opportunity and I giggle at the unusual gazes when I tell someone who won't understand.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

The Words

2010-03-04T12:04:00.000-08:00

I never seem to have a lack of words to write or to speak.

While I get inspiration from all walks of life, a poem or a nightmare too real to ignore, it's never difficult for me to get the words out of my head and into my computer.

That being said, I am having a slump of sorts.

I have plenty of ideas bumping around my noggin. I get them out before they blow away and find another willing to turn it into a proper story. The problem is turning them into something sensible. I'm not trying not to pressure myself but to be honest, the stack of unfinished work I have is going to topple over and crush me. Killed-dead, by a pile of my own thoughts (of course that end is somewhat appropriate for a writer....)

Every day I sit and look at the words, or a blank screen trying to take on a fresh start for my stories and honestly even though the words keep coming, they don't form a complete plot.

There are many different avenues for me to cruise down of course. I can keep picking away at the stories and then when I finally figure out what's the what, I can start for real, but most of my ideas start in an awkward place.

I need more backstory, frontstory, or I miss the interesting parts all together. My first WIP was a complete history of my characters before I pulled out the meaty bits, and realized what they were trying to tell me.

However, now I'm faced with my problem at hand, and while I'm not going so far as to call it a block (because I've proven to myself that I'm not blocked in the slightest) I'm trying to figure out why these plots are so coy with me. I'm not worried, just at an impasse. I know they will come when they come and I'll keep writing until they do (I spent too much time *not* writing to do otherwise.)

Unfortunately this slump couldn't have happened at a worse time. Shock Totem is having their monthly flash fiction contest and while I have the frame for my story, nothing else is following. I keep trying though, I'm not one to give up, I had hoped that this little challenge would jog something back into place. Now I just have to have something of substance by midnight, Sunday. I'll get some kick ass feedback and I'd love to keep growing.

For now I invite the words to keep coming... but can I get a bit flesh for my plot as well? Please?

The Waiting.

2010-02-25T11:56:00.000-08:00

I am not a patient person.

Over time I have learned to hold off on my irritation for less than spectacular timing, but I still hate waiting. Now, I've started the hardest task of my life -- submitting stories and poems. It is the second round of subbing for me. Last time was a no go and I too a break to learn a little more. For the last six weeks I have been sending out three things per week just to get a feel for it again.

I figured if I kept sending stuff out, eventually it would start looping around as the rejections or (hopefully!!) acceptances came and I could continue on in my merry subbing. The time has come where I have run out of things to sub and now I have to stock pile more of my musings in a sellable way. However, while I'm doing just such a thing I've realized I haven't heard back from anyone yet.

As everyone who will read this blog, published and unpublished writers alike, will tell me that I have to be patient, and that six weeks isn't that long of a time to have to wait for something. Sometimes it takes five months. Other times, it takes a year.

I do understand this. I really do. And I'm going to blame my little whining binge on the fact I'm doubting my writing ability right now and I'm left scratching my head wondering if I did the right thing in sending out my pieces. Because of my blank little lapse in writing, I've had time to think and wonder...sometimes that's not a good thing.

My mind is racing like the slutty girl running for her life in the opening scene of a horror film. We all know how it is going to end for her, bloody and dead. But I can't help it today.

Why do I do this to myself? Why am I stressing myself out when I know that these insane thoughts will only pressure me to have grandeur, maddening thoughts that will trip my mind up on a tree inevitably leading my doomed, unanswered ideas with an ax/saw or icepick.

Will editors look at my stories/poems and laugh in a bad way? Will they not even bother with a response because my work is just so poor? No matter how I prepared, people check my work twice and three times over just to make sure the grammar is correct or that everything is cohesive, what if it still had mistakes?

How do I stop these thoughts before I go crazy?

I'm assuming time will help erase the jittering, panicked feeling of "What was I thinking I could write?!" but for now, I'm left with the waiting.

Maybe I'll learn some patience along the way. I hope I do, but for now I'm going to keep subbing, keep writing and kill those crazy thoughts with my own icepick (before they get me.) There's nothing more I can do, and once I get back into the swing of things, it'll all seem like a bad dream. Right?

The Honest Scrap

2010-02-21T04:42:00.000-08:00

The good people at Shock Totem have set this blog "challenge" a rollin, and since everyone's jumping I wanted to as well. The point is to post ten things interesting about yourself. Others include K. Wood, PJ Ray, and started off with Mercedes Yardley. It's spreading like an STD but way more fun!! While most other people have led more interesting lives, I figured I'd like to do it as well (even though mine hasn't been so interesting) So here it goes!!

1.) I have picture memories from the time I was nine months old.

2.) I woke up July 18th, 2008 from a dream with voices in my head telling me to write. So I wrote it down, five weeks and five, five-subject Mead notebooks later I'd written my first rough draft of a novel. I've been writing ever since. I always wanted to before but didn't think I had the chops. But now I know that it's what I was always meant to do, and I finally feel right with myself.

3.) I dream in color, and often. I know that I've had a good night's sleep when I remember my dreams. Plus, my dreams are the reason I've never tried any mind-altering drugs. They are so wackadoo that I've too afraid to have any of them actually come into my reality. There are dreams I can still remember having from age ten and up. Those are the ones that are too freaky to forget.

4.) I have a degree in graphic design. Though I love being creative with drawing and painting I loathed working in the industry. I worked for a newspaper for three years, recreating ads; I worked for a logo company, recreating logos; and I worked for a snowboarding company, where I got to create the website, and work on their advertising. I still do some freelancing graphic design for people I gave the biz up because it wasn't for me.

5.) My invisible friends still come around to visit once in awhile.

6.) I have a deep affection for trees. Not in the "tree-hugging hippie" kind of way. But they have a calming affect on me, and in the summer/spring and fall I sit under them to write, read or draw. I love to hike and be in the forest.

7.) I will try anything once. Even if I'm afraid. There's too much out there to let your fears stop you, and I want to experience all of it if I can. If I'm afraid of something, it only spawns my desire to do it more.

8.) I truly believe in the cliche "You can do anything if you put your mind to it." I know that the only person whose stopping myself from getting what I want would be me, and I know that there is nothing we can't do if we set our mind to it. Even if things get hard.

9.) I have fabulous insight about people - good and bad. I don't let my insight prejudiced me. Because I understand that there are many shades of gray out there and not everything is black and white. However, to this day, I have only had one person prove me wrong.

10.) I'm an insanely loyal person. That doesn't mean I'm fickle with my loyalty, but once you're stuck with me, it's hard to lose me. (Of course, unless the #9 comes through and I get proved right.)

Okay! Ten things about me. Now let’s hear ten things about you! I tag YOU! Post the Honest Scrap picture on your blog and dish your dirt. Be sure to drop a comment so that I know you’re doing it. I’d love to come and see what you have to say.

Happy writing!
Hinny

The Mixed-Tape

2010-02-16T13:56:00.000-08:00

Recently, I stumbled across one of my old Mixed tapes.

When I was a kid I was short on resources to get music and so I would take a day and record my favorite songs from the "Alternative" radio station, back in 1992. That was when the word "Alternative" didn't stand for the same three Nirvana songs played over and over again like they are today.

Don't get me wrong, I love Nirvana. But...you all know what I'm talking about. Radio kinda sucks now-a-days. Of course it could have sucked then too, but I was twelve we had three stations Top 40 (same three songs rotated,) Country (not in my tea cup, thank-you) and Alternative.

My mixed tape consisted of all sorts of wonderful songs that transported me back to my musically inspired better part of my youth. Then the thought came upon me, what do kids do now? There are no cassettes, and Cd's are rapidly fading into our memories.

I remember my friends and I sharing mixed tapes with one another like they were Tic-Tac's. Or a boy I liked would make me a tape of songs selected by him, my heart would skip a beat. They were the perfect birthday present because it had to be thought out, and it was so personable.

It was always a fantastic treat to hear the music my friends had to offer, usually stolen from their older brother or sister because like I said... radio sucks where I live.

I got to thinking about how one would express themselves through music and do they even do that anymore? If anyone knows, feel free to let me know because the mixed-tape is a terrible thing to waste. Do IPods/MP3 players offer up a mix of music such as this?

Most of my cassettes are so old now the tape is starting to snap. My first STP tape is no longer playable. And many of my cherished songs, which were one of a kind on my mixed tapes, will soon be lost. It saddens me, they were one of the good parts of my youth, brought me many shiny happy times with R.E.M., or filled my heart with good angst, right along with Tori Amos and Smashing Pumpkins...

The day of the mixed-tape is over, but it is something I truly cherish.

The Quest - part 1

2010-02-01T12:05:00.000-08:00

In December, I put myself on a quest to start digging into all things horror(know your roots, I always say.) I have found my first leg over and I couldn't be more pleased. I sat down with Bram Stoker and read his beautifully written, albeit somewhat meaty, vampire story DRACULA.

I loved it. Stoker's descriptions and imagery conveyed each spangled scene vividly. I was sucked into each journal entry. You may be asking yourself why I hadn't read it previously, seeing as I work in a bookstore and now, I write horror. *Shrugs* Cause then I couldn't have read it now.

It was an extra door for me to break into, yes. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

I have seen many, many different vampire inspired movies, I knew the plot for the book so I wasn't too surprised. Then, I went back old school. In the book, UNIVERSAL MONSTERS, they speak of Bela Lugosi. While my knowledge of him prior was based of off the movie ED WOOD, I decided to dig a little deeper. Renting Dracula was by far the highlight of my quest-starting experience. He had played Dracula in New York, and his voice was considered perfect for the vampiric role. However he was not the first choice for the movie. Luck and charm eventually won out for him.

Yes, things are much different with movies now, and it would never fly. But it is the birth of horror movies in the United States. I was tickled with the black and white (which I do love) and everything the story encompassed.

The things the actors used to put themselves through with the make-up alone is horrifying enough to think about. But it was a beautiful piece of work and I'm better for having seen it.

Next, I'm onto Frankenstein. Mary Shelly wrote that book and submitted it for a contest at a time when women weren't really considered able. I'm a little jazzed about this one too!

Of course, when it comes to horror; ie. Gross, twisted, nasty, gnarled stuff always has a good place in my heart.

The Meme....one word answers.

2010-01-30T06:06:00.000-08:00

So, I was surfing through the blogs I follow the other day and I came across this fun thing called a Meme at a new blog (at least to me :P) called the Editing Hat since, he borrowed it from another blog, I thought I would follow in tradition, fill in one word answers, have my very own word fun!!

So here it is... my Meme:

Your Cell Phone? None
Your Hair? Thick
Your Mother? Works
Your Father? Ditto
Your Favorite Food? Healthy
Your Dream Last Night? *giggles*
Your Favorite Drink? Tea
Your Dream/Goal? Author
What Room Are You In? Living
Your Hobby? Reading
Your Fear? Stuck
Where Do You See Yourself In Six Years? Forward
Where Were You Last Night? Writing
Something That You Aren't? Tall
Muffins? Nope
Wish List Item? Travel
Where Did You Grow Up? Around
Last Thing You Did? Sleep
What Are You Wearing? Robe
Your TV? Off
Your Pets? (C)Agador
Friends? Good
Your Life? Even
Your Mood? Chipper
Missing Someone? Always
Vehicle? Rusty
Something You Aren't Wearing? Socks
Your Favorite Store? Books
Your Favorite Color? Black
When Was The Last Time You Laughed? Today
Last Time You Cried? Past
Your Best Friend? Yup
Facebook? Eh...
Favorite Place To Eat? Aladdin's
Favorite Character you've written about? Gwen

The Process

2010-01-28T05:08:00.000-08:00

"The pain is in the process"

Yes.

It's a homage to the world at hand. Not only to writing, but I'm going to take the saying and roll with it, my way.

Between writing the rough, the first and the final draft, editing, reworking and then rewording what you've already done. It can seem like a tedious process, less gratifying to keep going back over to polish the scuffs out of a piece of work which was once the shining beacon of our existence.

There have been many a time, where I shirked off editing a short story, poem or anything along the lines of having to do actual "WORK," simply for a more easy path. However, it seems that the process rears it's ugly head, every time.

I will admit it is much more satisfying to follow the muse, hand her the reigns and let her show me what she wants. No matter how fun it is, it isn't realistic.

Work is part of molding your piece into a proper manuscript, story, poem, idea... painting, lyrics (whatever you chosen genre of life is.) When something plops out of my mind, it is pretty to me. I love it, but I know that there is more I will have to do with the "bones" before it comes to light, or for others to enjoy.

I wrote my first WIP in five weeks. I didn't know what that meant, I was innocent to the way of writing. I blasted through with an exhilarated feeling, I knew I finally found my calling. Though I had a niggling suspect my WIP wasn't ready, so I sat down and rewrote it, it was even better the second time around. This time I sat down and thought about what was happening, how it would work and saw the flecked parts come together in a cohesive story. But it still wasn't ready.

Now, a year and a half later, I have my plan and have started the story for REAL. I wasn't writing the story. I was writing the backstory/history of the characters. I was planning out their lives, what their individual purposes were. All of it. I was making a plan.

I was blind at first; now time, knowledge and the fact I've opened my mind to learning has helped expand my writing in a way I've never believed possible. I am still wet behind the ears and I've now I have started my WIP for real this time. I am lovin' every minute of it.

I'm sure there will come a day when the words THE END cross my screen, which means more edits, rewrites, and other groaning grunt work. But it's all for a reason. It's all apart of the process.

The Snow

2010-01-27T06:31:00.000-08:00

It comes riding through the air, on the wisps of breeze. The sweet stale scent, one that tells you the world is about to change color, in a blanket of white the flakes come, dancing with serenity.

Although, I have to say I am not a fan of the cold. I do love the snow.

Everything seems a little brighter and magical, if only for a few moments. Fresh snow is the best. Fluffy tufts of white combining together. transforming the dead grass and naked trees into something splendorous to peer at.

Yes, there are hindrances to life's little salt shaker, as I have mentioned above, the cold for one, canceled school or meetings (and depending who you are it is good when you're a kid, but a little rougher on the parents. :P) You have to bundle up, the car won't start; you have to sweep, shovel and other unpleasant things one wouldn't normally have to do if we weren't in winter.

But the good outweighs the bad, I believe. Hot chocolate, playing with the kids, or with yourself. Catching snowflakes on your tongue (I'm not a "Lucy," December snow is just fine for me,) ice skating, sledding, scarves, sweaters and my favorite - Kneehigh socks... plus a plethora of other brilliant things, if you are creative enough.

If you don't live in a place where the seasons change, you may never know, or possibly dread the idea of the cold wetness that is portrayed on the news. However, if you look at things differently every once in a while, you're bound to see the magnificence.

It's always important for people to keep a new perspective in life. Otherwise it grows dull. Humans do not work well under boring circumstances. So look out your window, breath frosty air into your lungs and for a moment enjoy the snow.

It might not bother you as much after that.

The Bad Mood

2010-01-25T13:11:00.000-08:00

It comes out of no where, and it's inevitable. At least for humans, or so that it what I am told.

The bad mood can happen for a myriad of reasons, the kids are screaming; the bills need paid, but there is no money to be found; we get tired, run down, stressed from work, someone says something stupid; our spouse doesn't clean up what they were supposed to clean up... on and on our moods can spurn from anywhere.

But what happens if there is no reason for the bad mood? What if you simply wake up on the wrong side of the bed? I believe it's more frustrating when the reason isn't evident. I think that there is a reason, but if it is not slapping us in the face, then how do we pull ourselves out?

Most times a change of scenery or changing up the activity you're currently doing helps. But what if that doesn't work? Climbing back into your bed and staying there until the next day is an option, but it can lead to avoidance and possible carry over throwing you into an endless loop of bad days.

Sadly, nothing can help us out of our bad mood but us. I hate to say it, because when I'm in a bad mood I don't feel like helping myself out of a plastic bag; but it happens. Then the building mood causes yelling, frustration and writers block. When there should be none.

Self-inflicted doubts start to creep up into my head and I start to wonder many things I wouldn't wonder if I was in a happy place. There are many days I remember what I was frustrated over and shake my head, glad it's past.

Of course logically, there is always a reason.

The only thing to do is to sit with the uncomfortable feeling and search inside ourselves to try and figure out what is fact and what is just fabrication. When that doesn't help, if the answer doesn't come in a timely manner, I believe it's all for not. We have to wait it out.

We are human after all. I think we should be allotted a nice frame of time where we don't have to be happy, just as long as we aren't too hard on ourselves and we don't hurt anyone else in the process.

Always being self-aware helps as well. Now sometimes when the anger fogs your mind so much to the point where we are just shouting, screaming and slamming things around, that is when we need to take drastic measures. Call a friend and rant, write your angry thoughts, no matter how vicious they may seem, out; do something to extract the bitter engergy from yourself.

Soon, it will all be just a memory.

Too often, I know of people who judge themselves too brashly, they beat themselves up because they feel like they should be able to control themselves ALL of the time. That is just not the case. Why are you better than the other people around you? You're entitled to feel what you feel. Whether you want to or not.

Keep in mind it will pass. Emotions are like the weather, we are very much like the earth in that way, cruel and destructive in one moment, kind and gentle in the next. What's important to keep in mind is that they all pass. The good times fade, but so do the bad times.

Hold tight to yourself and know that eventually everything will be okay.

The Print

2010-01-22T12:16:00.000-08:00

I wandered the soil for twenty-eight years wondering what my purpose was. I bounced off a fair amount of ideas, but nothing stuck. When I graduated high-school, I had no clue what I wanted to do. I was creative, so it seemed to be a natural path for me to attend art school. With my graphic design aspirations in tack, I ended up finding a job at a newspaper, in the advertising department.

Twelve to nineteen hour days, pasting ads together...monotonous, tedious and lots of other -ous's that didn't make me happy. After three years, I was still unable to support myself. I found a part time job at a bookstore. Of course, I loved it.

But I still didn't get the connection.

I had always been thrown in the eye of the proverbial storm. Never really getting hint; writing was my optimum goal.

I always wanted to write. I wrote a handful of books when I was a little girl, had journals scattered with ramblings of my mind. But I never thought I could.

When I was twenty eight, I woke up with an inspired idea, wrote a novel and haven't looked back since. I could have seen the signs sooner. I will blame it on my own dense mind, insecurities and a variety of other excuses which pop out at any given time. But, now when I look back I see, I was always supposed to be a writer.

The proof is in the evidence.

For all of my adult years, I worked around the print. Never in it, which was why I had an uncomfortable pit in my heart. Now, I am writing. And the black pit shrank away.

I have learned how to flesh out an idea to make it into something readable and there is nothing I won't try. With writing that is. I recently found out I could also write poetry. Never in a million years would I have considered myself a poet before. But here I am, a proverbial salt-shaker of short, impactful words which make sense.

If there is one thing I have learned from my expeirence is that nothing is easy at first. Sometimes it's hard to see the signs slapping you in the face, but in all honesty when you take the blinders off, look through the magnify glass handed to you at birth and get an in depth, look inside of yourself you will be surprised. All it takes is a little time, and eventually it will all make sense.

The Monsters

2010-01-20T19:28:00.000-08:00

There are many things I enjoy about writing but by far, creating the monster is my favorite... I use the term Monster loosely, evil is evil anyway you slice it.

There is something fabulous about letting the darkest part of my mind take over unrelentingly, giving the baddie control to show me the most vicious parts of humanity and let go of any good to be purely malicious.

To be cruel without forgiveness is something that many of us know nothing about. But when you strap on the characters persona a whole new life and set of values takes form.

My monsters are nothing more than human. I have yet to dive into the world of creature creating. However, I look forward to the day I make that leap. For now, my evil-doers are in human form. They display a hint of nasty in the start, progressing deeper and darker into the pit where their heart should be as the story spins its sick tale.

I've only dabbled with self-acceptance of my love of all things horror for the last couple of years. And now that I have thrown myself into it so whole-heartily I am finding more and more fascination from how the first bloody seeds started to grow.

Though not writing, Universal Studios published a book of their monsters, from the birth of the very first silent horror film into the 1940's and 50's. They have a list of casts ranging from Lon Chaney, Bela Lugosi, and many many others, including Vincent Price.

The book breaks down the costumes, the sets, who was in what movie, a little spotlight piece on the studios main players, the plots and what the censers would and would not allow (I'll tell you it's nice to know that even back then people tested their boundaries away from the norm as they tried, and most times succeeded, to get things past the rule-makers.)

It's interesting because new questions are now popping up. I have always loved a good movie horror or otherwise, but to see things broken down in such a way, gives me an appreciation for just how far movies, technology and humans have come.

Plus it makes me hungry to find out more...

Including where the stories come from, I have set myself on sort of a Horror-Quest and I'm going to start researching and reading anything that would promote the birth of the genre I enjoy so much. I can't wait to see where it leads me. I am certain it will make me a better writer and a more well-rounded individual for me to find the roots, folklore and other things that will allow my brain to think in a new and different light.

The Do-Over

2009-12-24T04:39:00.001-08:00

There are many times in life when we make choices we wish would have never happened. They make us grimace and sometimes even cause us more pain that what we thought we could bear.

But the wonderful thing about life is that with each day it brings another start. Another try at what we set out to accomplish. There is no "It's a Wonderful Life" type miracle, and the pain may stay for longer than we hoped for, eventually there is a point where we have to move on.

We look our mistake in the eye, shake our fist at it, say "Never Again," and (if we are lucky) really mean it. Of course there are always obstacles. Life would be half as rewarding if it were a cake walk. But the do-over allows us to be human, make mistakes and hopefully, for most of us, learn from our past indiscretions. And knowledge is the most powerful tool we can harbor.

The situation may be small or to an extreme extent. The *groaning* "I shouldn't have done that..." could be a momentary slap in the forehead or something more painful that lasts a while. The times where the mistakes seem to never leave your mind, can really grade on you and wear you down. If it is a BIG one, it's probably the hardest thing you will ever accomplish getting over the "I wish it wouldn't have happened." But take heart and pride in the fact that the all natural human behavior of making said mistakes are just that.

Know that once the smoke clears, the sun breaches the crest of the next morning and the memory fades into something a little less harsh, you will learn to come to terms with it; then we can truly be free.

The Inspiration

2009-12-21T21:09:00.000-08:00

Inspiration comes in many forms, for many different people. It's something that wakes a little piece of you up; a pure moment within yourself where you can feel your heart breathing. It's the moment you realize you're functioning at a different level than you do in your every day life.

Our muses can only take us so far. We have to work at it to keep her going, together we grow and become what we are truly destined to be.

For me, I find inspiration in dark places, stark songs that bring out the 'real' in reality, meaty books with a light message but one which is relayed in a way to make you think, even if it's a simple process. Artwork and movies help inspire me as well as acts of human kindness where one would expect none.

I'm sure it's different for everyone. There is no right or wrong way to look for inspiration. It simply just 'Is,' or is 'Not.' But the fascinating thing I love most about being inspired is that it truly is absolute, it comes from no where, and the wheels in my mind start to crank on their own.

When no one is turning the shaft, it's the best, most freeing feeling in the world.

Creating something from a special place inside of you is more often than not exhilarating, even if the journey to find the perfect way to phrase what you're trying to say, or get the imagery right, becomes frustrating, there is no match to that moment when you are thrust into a scene and become taken away with it.

Wind in your hair, balls to the wall and any other cliche you can imagine, none are as true as when you are in the moment of the inspiration.

It's the same with every day life, looking at the little things will help, remembering what it was like to be a child on Christmas morning, not being able to lie in bed because your legs had a mind of their own. It's what prompts my blog posts and it's something I'm always looking for.

That one magical moment of sheer perfection.

The words that come out of me may need tweaking, they will never be perfect as such things are when they first roll out of you. But the spark has been lit, the idea is there, it's what makes things great, better and drives you to complete the idea as a whole.

That is what truly drives me to find inspiration where ever I go. More often than not, my eyes are wide open, I'm viewing the world with a child-like merriment, just to see where it can take my mind for the next time.

The Old and The New

2009-12-21T18:14:00.000-08:00

As I posted when I started this blog, I was having problems with my other site, so I decided to move here. Now that I have, I will start incorporating some of my older blogs to the new site.

Sooo... if you've read these posts already, don't feel like you're suffering from a case of Deja vu, but take peace in the fact that I'm just moving my old stuff to meet my new stuff.

More new stuff will follow, but for now, I hope you can enjoy the old.

Happy Holidays!!

The Playground

2009-12-21T18:12:00.000-08:00

Once a month I go to my son's elementary school to help out with lunch--no I'm not a lunch lady :) There are no hairnets or rubber gloves on when I go. The parents help out, its something nice that our school does, the are parent involved and lets the kids know the parents care. It's kind of fun actually.

I don't do anything super great, just get spoons and forks when they are needed. Say "Yes" when they ask to go to the bathroom, open up packages or milk if it's warranted.

But as I walk around the lunchroom, the different murmurs of children progressively becomes louder as they combine together in a cacophonous tone which reverberates off of the walls making the noise grow even more. I find myself not bothered, instead I tune out the pandemonium and watch.

Children have the most wonderful way of doing things. Their minds work in the most wondrous ways. They allow curiosity of the unknown drive them, not caring about the world around them. If they want to mix chocolate milk and ranch dressing together, eat it (or drink it) they do. And then get so excited, and proud of the mystery fluid they concocted, they feel the need to tell someone about it. OR if they can't eat the apple their mother packed for them, because their teeth are missing, they figure out another way... using a spoon no less.

Not sure many adults would like of something that far away from the norm. They would, most likely, find a knife and cut the apple in several pieces. It is more practical that way. But kids don't care about practicality, they set their sights to something and they don't worry about the obstacles... they just do.

As we move out to the playground my fascination grows. Watching the girls run as fast as they can, remembering the feeling of the wind whipping through my hair and just how freeing it really felt. Never losing my breath afterward, I would just pick up and start running again. Not bothering with the people surrounding me, not worrying if they were watching me or not. I just ran because it felt good and I liked it.

Kids pick up all sorts of things outside. Amazing things that, to them, are treasures. I have seen them bring small trophies up to the TA with so much excitement they are practically shaking, only to show a sunflower seed someone must have dropped while eating a snack. It doesn't matter, they won't think about where it came from, instead they will place it in their pocket and keep it as a trinket for a short while.

Now that spring is here and the ground is no longer wet, the kids play this marvelous game. I was told it was supposed to be a twist on dodgeball, because instead of throwing it, you kick the ball. If the other team catches it then the kicker is out.

But these kids changed the rules.

They play differently, they separate into grades, there is no picking... no one is chosen last. One grade on one team, the other grade on the other team. They kick the ball and catch it, and kick it again. No one wins, no one loses, no one scrutinizes, a never ending game of fun.

I'm told that they changed the rules of their own accord, they didn't want anyone's feelings to get hurt and this was their decision. I've been told that teachers and the principal even have tried getting them to play different games ie. football, basketball, soccer. But they always go back to this game... it is incredible really.

I think we forget, when we grow up just how good it feels to not have any worries, to be carefree, yes... not everything is hunky dory for kids. But do you remember what it was like to peddle your bike so fast up the hill that you thought your legs were going to fall off, just to see if you really could jump it at the top? Do you remember how it felt if you did get off the ground, even if it was just a hair? It felt like you were flying...

When does the innocence go away? Why does the outside world effect us so much? Is life really so stressful that we can't just let go and feel the breeze in our hair again? What are we afraid of?

The Little Things

2009-12-10T13:50:00.000-08:00

Scientists and pragmatic people alike spend hours upon hours trying to figure out why one person likes something and another one won't. Marketing businesses spend millions of dollars testing their products to see which will be more appealing to the masses.

The constant search for trying to figure out human nature has been going on as long as we were standing on two legs; it will continue to go on as long as we remain on this planet.

But I think that people over-look the little things so much. It's who we are, what we like and it's the little things that say more than any other thing could probably tell anyone. Just as appreciating the "little things" in life are important, so are the "little things" we tend not to pay attention to when it comes to getting to know someone.

Think about underpants. A person who wears tighty-whity's is probably a lot less likely to hang loose (no pun intended... well... maybe a little bit,) a person who wears fun, crazy, print underwear probably has lots of fun in life.

Neither is right or wrong, but I'm just sayin...'

"They" say you can never really know a person until you live with them. As per their quirks, their habits and if they are a morning person or a night person. That's true to some extent. But how often do we look deeper?

The brand of toothpaste they like, the way they take a shower... is it shampoo or soap first? How often they floss, do they put their dishes in the dishwasher right away or do they wait a little while? What kind of socks do they like?

I think the same goes with friends though, I mean we don't hang out with people we have NOTHING in common with, but despite their similarities, they will also have their own, unique differences. Not only in specific intrests such as: movies, books or music, but WHY they like it.

Seriously if you take a little more time getting to know the people who are already in your life, by asking about the little things, you might be surprised at what you find.

The Music

2009-12-04T09:18:00.000-08:00

More often than not, I write to music.

The tones, lyrics and rhythm helps create atmosphere. It can coax a thought from of a crevice of my mind when I'm having a hard time finding words. Or it can help me string the words together when I wasn't able to before.

Music truly inspires me.

Which is why I am always on the lookout for tunes, lyrics, artists that are new and different. There are many things out there that are quite enjoyable. But the "WOW" factor? the one that stops your heart and makes you feel at one? Music like that doesn't come around often.

It's hard to find something that 'Oh Good Gravy,' I can feel the lyrics in my blood, type of mind blowing experience. Needless to say, once I find those precious artists who manage to make my heart beat with their rhythms; I hold on tight.

NPR has a song of the day in which I love to listen too. Most of the time, I can listen to the song once, read up on the band/person and move on with my day. But two times, their chosen song has made me stop and say "Hey, I'd like to hear more."

I always keep my ears open. And it's sad to say, for me at least, that I haven't been jazzed about a song for longer than I'd like to admit. Yes, I am loyal to my favorites and I can't write this entry without giving them props.

However, Tuesday night, I found a new band.

Oona and Dave Tweedie (though it's seems like they are just called Oona, I'm still looking into it.)

Oona Garthwaite has a voice that rolls over the music in a hauntingly hypnotizing way. The song I heard - Tore my heart - was stuck in my head until I managed to find a partial version. But when I found this site at OurStage.com I was really tickled with the other songs they had displayed as well. Dave Tweedie displays a wonderful twisted way of bringing out the darker notes with the ensemble of music he plays on the backdrop of Oona's voice.

Needless to say I'm hooked.

Their debut album Shhhhout can be found at iTunes, but I have yet to purchase it because I'd love to have it in a solid form as well. But make no mistake my friends, I will have it and I can't wait to see what the music brings out of me.

The Expression

2009-10-19T08:57:00.001-07:00

Everyone should have an outlet to express themselves. A place where they can just feel at peace to be themselves. Somewhere they can feel safe and good and true.

My place is writing.

It's something I didn't realize for a long time, something that stunted me in my growth as a human. Now I understand how great of a power it truly is for me.

I love getting lost in my thoughts, it is that free falling feel as though I was tumbling down a tunnel, but for some reason it feels safe and allows me to truly feel at home with myself. I was writing this blog with everyone else in mind, afraid that if I was myself I might be too bias. Now I just want to express my thoughts how I think them. I was under the impression, for a long time, that if I got lost in my thoughts that I would become too self involved, but I now realize that we all deserve some self involvement once in awhile.

I never really feel alive unless I am creating something, drawing, knitting, cooking, painting and yes, as I have mentioned, writing. I enjoy pouring myself into something that I can start at conception and see grow. I like to learn to help better those self expressions and to feel that I am accomplishing something suitable for me. I know that I can do anything I want to do, I just have to make it happen.

Expressing myself helps me go forward on that journey. It may not be profound to someone else, but honestly if it helps me develop into a better me, then that is all that really matters. It will help me be in a better mood, it will help me be a well rounded individual, and all in all a happier woman, it will help me move forward. Past the hard things in life and cushion the good.

When my "muse" comes knocking on my door, I see things in words or pictures. I try to make them come to life and in doing so, I am being true to myself. It's taken me a long time to realize that that is okay. It's okay to do what strikes my fancy. And it's helped me realize that it's the only way for me to truly be happy.

Art and writing are not for everyone. I understand that. Some people make music, some people create wonderful works out of wood, some people are passionate about football. I think it's not how you express yourself, if it hold some sort of substance to you and makes you feel good that's all that matters. Express yourself in whatever way you see fit. Just as long as you do.

The Big Move

2009-10-19T08:28:00.000-07:00

Alright, so I moved my blog some were for personal reasons and others where for unpersonal reasons -- more unpersonal than personal actually... I was quite frustrated because I couldn't change my blog over to my gmail account. It seriously hindered my commenting abilities. But now, I'm hoping this move will change that situation substantially.

So for anyone that is confused with this new change, it's merely semantics, trying to squelch any more frustration in my life.

Alright, I'm out for now.

Blog at ya later

Random thoughts of a writery girl

Blog-a-rific

finding the fool

The Dreams....

Strength in numbers....?

Wading into a Pool of Rusty Nails (or Life Lessons for Fiction) by Lee Thompson

"Oi with the Poodles already..."

Redundancy is one you've seen twice before...

Writing; the teacher and dicipline I never knew I always wanted

Uncertainty Is The In The Eye Of The Fear-Holder

The Change

Delicious

The Quirks and Cogs Crankin, Make Up Me

Lessons, plans and a little jig to get ya going...

The Pimp

The Plan, (in a non-conformist, I don't follow "those" things kinda way)

The Long Time Gone, The Stall and now, The Jump...

The Publishment

The Breaks, Cracks and Damage

The Tag! A Meme of Questionable Proportions.

The Work

The Publishment!

The Break

The Playground...revisited.

The Strange Awards :)

The Workload.... wk... *cough* it's been too long

The Momentum

The Ramble... horror musings on my mind.

The Publishment.... new poem up @ The Cyinc Online

The "Black Rainbow" by: Miss Effie Collins

The Word-Love

The WorkLoad.... wk 10.

The Workload... wk 9

The Publication -- My poem over at SNM Horror!

The Animation

The Workload... wk 8

The Contest - On Conversations from Land's End

The Day... Sunday March, 23 2010

The Workload... wk 7

The Workload, wk 6. (late, but never better)

The Issue # 2, Shock Totem is almost here!

The Dirty Comments....

The Bullet

The Workload... wk 5 (oops! last week was 4)

The Closed Door

The Workload... wk 3

The Challenge

The Workload... wk 3

The First Poem Published!

The Song #6

The Workload.... wk 2

The Gore vs. The Creep, and The Why?

The Workload

The Balance.

The First Short Story Published!!!!

The Reading

The Voices

The Words

The Waiting.

The Honest Scrap

The Mixed-Tape

The Quest - part 1

The Meme....one word answers.

The Process

The Snow

The Bad Mood

The Print

The Monsters

The Do-Over

The Inspiration

The Old and The New

The Playground

The Little Things

The Music

The Expression

The Big Move

The Workload.... wk... cough it's been too long