Taking A Stab At Something New

You ever notice how sometimes you try something new just to try it and you turn out to be good at it? Or you might suck on vacuum-sucking levels but the point is that it is important to try because you might be really good at it.

So, I took a long-awaited stab at non-magical romantic comedy. According to my critic/friend, it's the best thing she's read of mine. (Which is saying something for her because not only has she read most of my stuff but she REALLY loves some of the other pieces.)

So, that's pretty cool. I think I'll keep stabbing at this one. Now as long as it doesn't bleed all over my shoes...

Life Lesson

Hey there, here's a newsflash for the world. Are you aware that there is a difference between cancelling on someone and standing them up? If you don't, you'd better learn it because it's an important one. I never get angry at someone for cancelling on me, but if you don't let me know you're not showing up until after the fact, then I get a little annoyed. If, this dreaded statement, something comes up, let the person know that something came up, otherwise, YOU'RE NOT CANCELLING! THAT'S STANDING SOMEONE UP! It's past the rude line and in the sector of 'pisses people off'. Have the decency to at least leave a message or something. Don't call a day or two later and say, "Oh yeah, I forgot. Something came up." You know what I'm going to say to you then? "Uh, yeah, I kinda noticed when you didn't show up that you didn't show up. Thanks, Sherlock. What would I do without you?" It's a courtesy thing. You may have missed the manners course they fed to us in like first grade but you should have enough common sense to know that people don't like it when you make plans and break them WITHOUT ANY NOTICE! No one over the age of fifteen can honestly they say they've never seen someone get upset because they weren't informed of broken plans. If you can, you're either a monk or literally living with a troll beneath a bridge somewhere and even that I don't buy because I'm guessing that the monk, though he didn't show it, got a little peeved when monk #2 was supposed to drop by for a little bible study and never showed and the troll probably reacted like a real jerk when the goats were twenty minutes late for crossing to better pastures! (Yes, bible study actually means bible study. You know, with that big book. I don't mean monk #1 and monk #2 are off to the local pub for a round of beers.) Digressing...

Still digressing...

Breath in, breath out...

Ok, so life lesson for the day, kids. If you make plans with someone and you decide you're not showing up, LET THEM KNOW!!! Don't be rude. Our generation has enough of a bad reputation. Let's prove them wrong. Let's pretend some of us have manners.

Because I Need One Today

HAPPY LIST PART II

Night prowls with flashlights on Halloween

sighs and whisperings

going barefoot around the house

compulsions

singing in the shower and when you
think no one can hear

window seats and bready-smelling
mazes of bookracks

stockings hung from the chimney
with care

a warm crackling fire

a walk down a pine-needled path

daydreamers

checking the faces of departing movie-
goers in an attempt to determine the
quality of the film

infatuation kept under wraps

killer Scrabble games

being the only group of friends
in the movie theater

list-lovers

spending time in the baby's nursery after
everyone is sleeping

when the sky has lost the sunlight
but not yet found the stars

the study of wind-resistance conducted by
holding a cupped hand out the
car window

poinsettias

the first frost coming without a whisper

achievements

the habit of making distinctions

bringing beauty and meaning into life

singing in a choir

Never Make Plans

You ever notice how if you slave over plans for a big day and look forward to it for weeks and work really hard to set up for it and then...something comes up. I don't get mad about it. I just get annoyed with myself. I mean, geez! What's wrong with me? Why would I get my hopes up? I know perfectly well that nine times out of ten, things just don't go my way. Why bother getting all the chores done and getting up early to get said chores done so I won't be busy on day of big event (or small look-forward to event. Whatev) when I know it's probably not happenin'? Because I'm young, stupid, and female. And as a feminist, I should slap myself for saying that but let's be honest here. As a girl, though feminist I may be, I can't help myself. We get excited, we aim to please, and we worry. That's what it's like when we have a friend over, have a cousin over, have Great-Aunt Barb who can't hear anymore over. And it's worse during the holidays! Oh my god, it's worse. We turn into housewife, Santa's helper, Martha Stewart, Betty Crocker freaks of holiday-induced nature. I don't care if you're some little gothic princess who paints pentacles on your shoes to piss off "the man", you get the holiday jitters like every other woman and you may deny it to the very core of your bones, but you have the urge to bake cookies too! It's like it's attached to our DNA. So thank you, holidays! Now I have a kitchen table covered in desserts I'll never be able to finish off, a refridgerator filled to the brim with leftovers, thank-you cards I need to write coming out of my ears and one hell of a mess to clean up including a Christmas tree, stockings, and lights of all kinds. What did I do this cold Friday morning? (Btw, why the hell did Christmas have to fall on a Thursday?) I got up early this morning, like before seven, on a day I'm supposed to be on vacation, to clean up all the mess left from holiday havoc and midway through I get the lovely message "something came up." So, you know what? I'm cleaning up Saturday. Afternoon. Late afternoon. What's my message today, folks? NEVER make plans!

Oh, and Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. ;)

Oh, the Art of Weakness

Ok, so I haven't ranted in a while. Well, on the blog, anyway. So, what's my fantastic topic of discussion, you ask? Here it is: Infallible, invulnerable, perfect characters. Now, I'm not saying, I don't have the same urge to make my characters totally awesome, no embarrassing moments, no screw ups, not a single thing wrong with them. Unfortunately, who the hell can relate to that? There has to be something. They have to have flaws. They can't be perfect. I know, sad, but true. Don't write a perfect character. Throw in some semblance of humanity. Yes, even if your character is a green, eight-eyed monster with purple hair. There has to be some little something. It can be subtle. By all means, go for subtle if the character isn't our main one. But, yes there's a but, our main character has to have layers. And by layers, I mean, the human-mind kind not the parade float flower kind of layers. Humanity is necessary for a character's survival. Even the big baddies get it. Look at Darth Vader. Big, bad, and you guessed it, semblance of humanity.

Interesting Words Pretty Much Rock

ambrosia: food of the gods, which conferred immortality.

glowworm: a wingless female beetle which emits a greenish light

knave: a petty rascal

obelisk: a tall four-sided pillar

sumptuary: relating to expense

trepidation: confused alarm

demagogue: a leader of the people

hirsute: hairy;shaggy

rostrum: beak of a bird

par: state of equality

besom: a brush of twigs

ciliary: belonging to or of the nature of eyelashes

fuddle: to make stupid by drink

jettison: to throw overboard

quixotic: chivalrous to extravagance

mealy-mouthed: inclined to hypocrisy

zoolite: an animal substance petrified or fossil

eyrie: an aerie; nest of a bird of prey

imbroglio: an intricate and perplexing state of affairs

nostrum: a quack medicine

unction: act of anointing

lilt: to sing cheerfully

Everyone Should Have A Happy List

Happy List December 3rd, 2008

playing Clue

wandering the fairgrounds

walking along the beach at night


seaweed tapestries woven w/shells, fish bones, feathers, etc.


magic show


oak spiral staircases

a street full of bookstores and galleries

the sound of the wind

wandering into an antique furniture store

out-of-reach cabinets

drawbridges

climbing a tree to do some constructive day-dreaming

sunlight streaming through the trees

instant poker parties

music boxes

motorcycles

antique trunks

looking down from a ferris wheel

tying your hair back with ribbons

tree houses

long phone calls

sleeping with a jacket over you

stargazing

rainstorms

fireplaces

the smell of the sea

friends

Before I Die

I was asked to write a Before-I-Die List so I thought I'd post it since I prefer typing anyway. Yes, yay. For me, at least. No, it's not realistic. What's the point of realistic goals? These are things we want to do, not things we're going to do. It's fun, really.

1) Become fluent in Latin, Gaelic, and French. (So not likely.)
2) Become a mother. (Even less likely.)
3) See my Celtic homelands. (Eh, maybe.)
4) Conquer the art of walking in high heels.
5) Lose enough weight to make me not gag in front of a floorlength mirror. (What? I can dream.)
6) Have a job that pays enough to let me pay the bills, keep the kitchen half-filled, and leave enough left to buy little spoil-them gifts for my godchildren.
7) Publish a novel. (Still dreaming)
8) Give one spectacular piece of advice. (It could happen.)
9) Be remembered for good reason.
10) Successfully cook a perfect Thanksgiving turkey.
11) Dedicate a room in my house to my own personal library. (Ok, this is rather likely.)
12) Finish all the novels I've started, if only for myself.
13) Get my degree.
14) Teach British Lit and Creative Writing.
15) Come back and live in my hometown.
16) Visit Disneyworld.
17) Have a pet turtle, two parakeets, several dogs and cats, and an aquarium of fish.
18) Have one peaceful day.
19) Go to a Journey Concert.
20) Go to the SuperBowl.

Vampires totally rock!

The application on MySpace, of course. It's the only one that works on my OLD computer. And it rocks!

Yeah. I just had to say that.

Silly Muses and their distractions...

Honestly, out of the like twelve or so muses I've got dancing around my head, you'd think I would have at least one up and about at all times. No such luck, of course. It seems they sleep all at once, vacation all at once, and go out on the town all at once. Somehow, if one muse is gone, all the muses are gone. If I can't write a poem today, in all liklihood, I'll fail pretty miserably at a short story too. Pretty unfair, I have to say. Some authors can write anytime. Is is true that we can always write? Yeah, you give a writer a prompt or an assignment, no sweat, no problem. Muses aren't for that. Muses are the little spouts through which we pour out everything inside of us onto paper. (Or computer screen). It is entirely possible to write fantastic pieces without the presence of one of our beloved muses but to write the near-and-dear and truly releasing stuff, we need those girls around. Grrr. I think my novel muse is off to Hawaii again.

"Sorry, I got nothing. One of my muses is sleeping, one is acoma, and another is dead. You're out of luck little voice in my head telling me to write or cry." (8/16/08)

So, I read this really great book...

At Last by Anngela Schroeder, which WILL one day soon be hitting bookstore shelves is a great read. Truly. Go read the first chapter at

www.at-last-aschroeder.blogspot.com

It is worth reading and is destined to become a book passed from mother to daughter and sister to sister and cousin to cousin and whatever mix you can come up with. Go, hurry off now. I won't be offended that you're rushing away from my blog. Really.

Ooh, yay! My muse got up from her nap!

The New Baidrick Beginning

Avoiding arrest is never an easy task, unless you've had practice. Baidrick Keltner had had a hell of a lot of practice. This time it was stealing. A horse, to be specific. Not just any horse, either. Oh no, this was a very special horse.

Because Random Ranting is our Right

Recently I was sent a writing prompt which gave birth to this little tidbit:

PROMPT: That's what happens when you follow your heart...

That's what happens when you follow your heart, you end up walking head-first into a brick wall with "HIT HEAD HERE" painted across it in bold lettering. Oh sure, the details vary a bit. Sometimes you walk off of a cliff or into a long tunnel in which the light you see turns out to be a train. Either way the point is basically the same. Love knocks out your senses in a way that can only be rivaled by death. You end up blindfolded, with cottonballs in your ears and nose, your mouth taped shut, and your hands handcuffed behind your back and all you can do is hope that whoever's leading you doesn't decide to take off and leave you to wander aimlessly in the darkness without so much as a hint to where you are. That's how we end up half-dead lying in a hospital bed where the surgeon explains that our shattered heart is inoperable and can't be put back together. And you know what we do after we've taped the pieces together the best we can? Hurry off to buy another blindfold, cottonballs, duct tape, and a pair of handcuffs.

Some other prompts from the email:

1) A group of students stumble upon a cave when they drift off from their classmates while on a picnic in the forest.

2) A new house owner discovers that the attic is completely empty save for a portrait of a woman placed up against the wall.

3) Someone finds a dead body. The only clue is a tiny golden key with initials on it.

Once Upon A Time...

Now that is one heck of an over-used beginning. However, it can be used to produce one heck of a story. Oh well, it's not my cup of tea. So, here to ask a favor. I'm working on something new and can't decide how to start it. Here are a few of the contenders:

1) Baidrick tensed, seeing a man wearing the crest of the King enter the pub, clutching the unmistakable scroll that marked someone for arrest. (Something to that effect)

2) Avoiding arrest is never an easy task, unless you've had practice. Baidrick Keltner had a hell of a lot of practice. (This is the one that currently sits at the top of my outline)

3) Stealing? Definitely bad. Stealing from the wealthy? That's the bold kind of stealing. Stealing from the King? That's the stupid kind of stealing. Stealing from the King, making a pass at his daughter, and embarrassing him in front of half the neighboring village? That's suicide.

Have an opinion? I'm all ears...or eyes...since I can't really hear your comments.

Why I'm totally a Wannabe Author

Put quite simply, writing rocks. There is nothing better than being able to escape from reality into something that is under your complete control. If I want gravity to become chocolate milk without knocking the universe out of balance or grass to be purple, that is totally up to me. I have that right as the author and creator of that world. Then to share that world with readers who can escape into your paradise too? Yeah, that's why I'm a Wannabe Author.