
Inspiration

An author's collection of thoughts and stories

I saw this and thought, “Lol, how silly!” then moved on.
A few months later, I randomly remembered the video and wished I could find it again.
I often think that the problem with contemporary fiction writing is that there are too many rules to contend with. Writing communities are stiff with them. People constantly ask for help with them and enforce them on others. Most of the time, whenever someone asks for a critique, it boils down to, “Am I following the rules properly?”
What about creative passion? Idealism? Soul expression? Where do those fit in?
Why do people ask, “Is this something that others would read?” instead of, “Is this something I care deeply about?”
When it comes to writing, the single most important thing is to have fun. Enjoy it. Randomly burst into laughter because you thought of something funny to write while waiting in line at the grocery store. Cry when your characters are sad. Ride the roller coaster of emotion that comes from being a writer, and revel in the intensity of life. It can be so blissfully wonderful.
Tell as much as you want instead of showing it. Use the word ‘said’ exclusively. Describe everything with adverbs. Neglect world building. Write only subplots. Use your favorite cliches. Include funky colloquialisms.
Just be you.
Don’t copy someone else. Don’t seek out everyone else’s approval. Don’t slavishly follow rules and formulas because someone wrote an article about it. Don’t follow bad advice from the internet.
Figure out what you like, and do it. Perfect it. Develop a strong voice and your own unique style.
I believe that there’s an empathic transfer that happens between author and reader. If you aren’t madly head over heels in love with your own story to begin with, then no one else will feel that way either. If you don’t care, then no one else will care.
And besides,
You can’t please everyone.
But you can certainly please yourself. So isn’t that where you ought to start?
(And yes, I know I’ve written a similar post before, but exposure to writing communities always puts me on this train of thought)
Didn’t get enough sleep last night.
We’re still co-sleeping with the one-year-old, but she’s getting so wriggly that I’m starting to wake up in the middle of the night with her sprawled over my head. I know it’s time to move her out so I can catch up on my sanity, but that also means acknowledging that she’s not a tiny baby anymore. It’s emotional, so I haven’t brought myself to actually doing it yet.
Had an energy drink first thing in the morning. Too tired to make coffee. I know I shouldn’t make a habit out of it.
Wore all black, including an ankle-length circle skirt. Lots of eyeliner and mascara. I wondered why no one ever calls me goth.
Decided to take the kids out Halloween shopping. I call them my ducklings, because I love the way they naturally spread out when they follow me. This year we bought costumes. Normally I sew them myself, but… I’m tired.
Laughed at how much the kids loved to be scared of the decorations, and we found glow-in-the-dark spider web for the house. Two of them made up their minds quickly about what they wanted to be for Halloween. I felt a little vexed at my seven-year-old’s indecisiveness, as she switched between wanting to be a witch, a mermaid, and a unicorn. Thought about how, if I was sewing her a costume, she could be a witch-mermaid-unicorn. Felt guilty.
Walked to a nearby restaurant and shared a plate of teriyaki chicken and macaroni salad with the kids. I was amazed at how much they eat now. Seemed like it was just yesterday when I had to beg them to sit still and eat something, but today they were ravenous. Had a really pleasant time, and felt mostly awake. The children were astonishingly well-behaved and didn’t make much of a mess.
At home, I let the kids try on their new costumes and dance on the freshly painted floor. The previous owners of our house had painted the wood a hideous shade of taupe, and after a lot of deliberation and research, we decided to cover it up with enamel paint. Golden yellow. While we can walk on it, the paint still needs time to cure before we can put the furniture back, which leaves a nice big empty space for playing. The rest of the house is chaos.
Put the costumes away soon after, before they could get ripped or stained. I know my children well.
Screen time for the kids. Bathed the baby, and took care of the laundry. Apple slices and chocolate milk all around. Fatigue headache started setting in. Still not caught up on chores. Still need to go to the grocery store. Still haven’t done any “me” activities. Went for the Tylenol, but forgot to actually take it. I finally re-dressed the baby as the kids helped themselves to graham crackers. Crumbs were everywhere.
Finally took the Tylenol.
Kids get hyperactive as I lose attentiveness, and they start fighting with each other. That, in turn, makes my headache worse.
Hold out for my husband to get off work. Thank god for reinforcements.
He took the kids out to the grocery store so I could have a break. Afterwards I made a late dinner, and completely forgot to add any sort of spicing to the meat, including salt. My husband noticed, and corrected the mistake just in the nick of time. Made enchiladas.
My husband got a work-related phone call just as we sat down to eat, and I was back on my own. The kids ate everything except the tortilla, including the baby. I laughed because that’s exactly what my husband does, and they all take so much after their father. Realized I should have put in corn.
I had the kids brush their teeth and get ready for bed. Read a few pages of the Hobbit for their bedtime story. Got tongue-tied quite a lot because I was so tired. Kids didn’t seem to notice. Hugs, kisses, and I-love-yous all around. Bedtime is always the sweetest moment of the day.
Made it.

I did not know I needed this in my life until suddenly here it was.
I like anonymity.
At this point, I’ve received so many disparaging comments about wasting my life as a stay-at-home-mom, I don’t want people to think that there’s any hope for me.
As a woman, I don’t believe that I’m obligated to prove my value as a person through masculine evaluations of quantities and numbers. I am not defined by a paycheck. My worth is found in the joy and beauty I offer to the world, and that includes raising happy, well-adjusted children. God knows the world needs more happy, well-adjusted people in it.
So don’t chain me down with your money. *spits*
I get a perverse delight over how upset random strangers get when they learn that I don’t lift a finger to earn a dime. I love flaunting that I’m wasting my life and smratness right in their ugly little faces. Ooo! You can’t do a thing about it! Ha ha!
…
You’re all like, “What a second, don’t you self publish on Kindle?”
Yes, yes I do.
I’ve discovered that I struggle a huge amount with posting chapters weekly, even when the novel is completely finished and all I have to do is copy-n-paste. While I was contemplating what to do about this problem of mine, Kindle was the word that kept repeating over and over in my mind, so that was that.
ANYway, the problem is anonymity is that, while it protects me from people getting all pushy about monetizing and whatnot in real life, it also prevents me from doing other things. Like posting an author photo and utilizing YouTube.
I do want to find readers, and I like quirky methods.
I might shed the invisibility cloak soon. Tell my mom what I’m up to and all that.
But only because I love you and I want to find you. We’re kindred spirits, you and I.
I had established the routine of replying to a writing prompt on Reddit every Monday morning, but frankly, I’m already feeling burnt out on Reddit.
The reason why it worked was because I had to get up earlier than usual on Monday, and had a decent hour of musing while waking up with coffee. However, that phase is probably over with for good, and I no longer have that space of time.
I’m just not an internet-oriented person. My idea of an afternoon well spent is finding cool mushrooms while out bike riding with the kids. I don’t do social media. I do real life. Call it a weakness.
I don’t actually have the patience to look through endless numbers of writing prompts. Not when I have a bunch of other things to do and an extra hour of sleep to work with.
Maybe some other routine will work itself out, but since being a Reddit celebrity doesn’t appeal to me all that much, I want to devote my free time to finishing my current novel-in-progress. You know, the one that I’ve been working on for over a year. Yeah, that one.
Truth be told, that novel is the reason why I started posting on Reddit in the first place. I WANT people to read it when its done, and I figured that I could use some more visibility to accomplish that goal. However, that just ain’t gonna happen if I never finish!
So, change in routine.
Absolutely none of the writing prompts during this last week spoke to me in any sort of way — too much ‘internet culture’ crap (YES I SAID IT) to spark the imagination.
So I wrote up one of my own ideas to post instead.
Of course, if I worked on my novel instead of posting on Reddit, I’d be a lot closer to being finished with it. You know I’m totally just doing this for attention, lol.
Xander approached the lab with trepidation, his combat boots crunching loudly on the deteriorating asphalt with every heavy step. He had received his order to recruit a new teammate, and he knew exactly which old one had to go. While it was going to be a relief to be rid of Adora after her latest antics had nearly gotten the entire team killed, he did not care for the manner in which he had been instructed to carry out the task. The transition was not going to be smooth or pretty.
But first, he had to slog through all the options currently available in the lab. He hated the scientists in their white coats who lorded themselves over the soldiers as their creators. They tampered with life, but they did not understand it; not in the same way the soldiers did.
A new teammate would mean a mountain load of work late into the night. He was not looking forward to it.
He entered the building and went through all of the necessary security checks, then met up with the scientist who had been assigned to assist him. He was a boring sort of man, a balding egghead who didn’t think it was necessary to look up from his clipboard when he spoke. They went to the observation room, and immediately started going over the options.
Xander shot them down without even looking at them. He didn’t need someone who could read minds or levitate objects. “I need stealth,” he argued. “Don’t waste my time on parlor tricks!”
“Hm, lets see here …” the man studied his clipboard, musing in a way that sounded like he was talking to himself. “Ah, you should like this one. She came out of the lab just this morning, and is quite cutting edge.”
“Fine. Bring her in.” Xander rubbed the bridge of his nose, not feeling particularly excited about the prospect. The scientists’ idea of ‘cutting edge’ was never all that applicable in real combat situations, but he still wondered what sort of monstrosity they had created this time. Perhaps if she proved to be adequate, he would recruit her just to insult Adora, who had been getting on his nerves with her vanity of late. It would knock her down a peg before she was booted from the team.
The scientist spoke into his radio, and a few minutes later a door opened in the room on the other side of the one-way glass. Surprisingly, a pretty and slender girl was shown in and instructed to wait. She sat down in the chair facing the mirror, and folded her hands together on her lap in a manner that could only be described as delicate.
“Seriously?!” Xander couldn’t help but blurt, staring as if his eyes would bug out of his head. “She’s not a soldier at all!”
“Ah, don’t let her appearances deceive you.” The scientist chuckled, and for the first time set down his clipboard to look proudly at the girl. “I designed her abilities myself. She can project invisibility on whomever she chooses, and take out all electronic devices at will. She is perfect for stealth.”
“What’s with the long hair?” Xander asked. No one kept long hair on principle, not wanting to risk the hazard it posed in the middle of combat. He thought that he should decline on that matter alone, especially considering that it wasn’t simply her hair that bothered him; everything about her looked like some lonely man had decided to create a living doll for his own enjoyment, from her rosebud mouth to her D cup breasts. There was no way he could work with someone like that. There was no way she could successfully integrate into the team.
The scientist simply shrugged. “We provide their powers, not their personalities. If you want her to cut it, you’ll have to convince her yourself.”
Xander opened his mouth to say what his mind was telling him, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was ogling her, embarrassed by his inability to look away. His heart tugged at him, whispering that he was a lonely man and that he could use some enjoyment. Of course, as the team leader, that would be an appalling abuse of power. Even if he recruited her, he would never be allowed to touch her.
“What’s her name?” he asked instead.
“Eleta. She’s the best we’ve ever made,” the scientist replied.
“The best, huh?” He clenched his hands into fists, keeping them rigidly at his sides as he tried to keep his mind clean and focused. She would prove to be too much for him, and he needed to walk away before he got into any trouble. “Invisibility would be useful …” He hated himself. He wanted to punch himself in the face for being so stupid.
Say no. Just say no.
“I’ll take her. She needs to cut that damn hair, though.”
The scientist grinned. “I’ll inform her that she’s been recruited. Take good care of her – we put a lot of hard work into this one.”
Xander grunted, his heart pounding over what he had done as he watched the scientist go into the other room to speak with the girl. For however long he was stuck working with her, it was going to be the sweetest hell he would ever endure.