About Me

Anonymity

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.

About Me

Change in routine

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.

Stories

Eleta

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.

The Scion Suit

The Scion Suit – Behind the scenes

I know, everyone is all like, “Oh my god, she’s beating a dead horse! The story wasn’t that good.”

But ha ha! I intend on turning this horse into GLUE! The only escape is to stop reading my blog, bwahahahahahahaha!

Actually, I’ve had a really crazy week, and now I’m coming down sick/loopy from the stress. Hoo-rah!

ANYwho, some of my personal notes on The Scion Suit:

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I changed a few things for the final version, but you can probably see how things evolved.

Not pictured: Research into military rankings and culture. This was the hardest part for me; I didn’t want to be blatantly wrong, but the only personal experience I have is a handful of conversations with a couple of ex-military guys. I’m not actually sure if Lambert would have had his own office as a captain.

Also not pictured: Lots of brainstorming with my husband. He’s my number one source of inspiration, meaning he comes up with the ideas and I steal them. Just kidding. He knows how to get my juices going. Lol.

Why did I choose that particular prompt?

My method is to sort by ‘new’ then keep scrolling until I find something that stands out to me, and ignore popularity altogether, because I’m an arteest and not an attention whore. I picked that prompt because it reminded me of a reoccurring dream that I’ve had several times over the past few years, and I very nearly wrote the dream as my response. However, I very quickly decided that the dream deserved the time and attention that I put into my novels, and opted to come up with an entirely new story instead. The dream was still a major influence.

Then the prompt got popular. Whoopsie.

So there you go.

About Me

Pervy

Like a lot of creative sorts, I have a pervy streak. Nothing that would shock grandma, but… you know, tee hee.

I always hold back, however; I have turned off countless movies and shows because of “3 edgy 5 u” sex scenes. Usually I assume that they’re trying to cover up how much the story sucks by distracting the audience with bouncing titties, especially if it happens during the first 20 minutes. And why is it always casual sex? Srsly, not sexy.

Anyway, I think that it would be a touch hypocritical to publish sex stuff when I am so critical of sex stuff. I’m not going to resort to cheap tactics for the sake of attention.

Isn’t it nice to know that you can read through an entire story without cheap tactics being thrown in your face? I think so.

But then, I always have ideas, because I love writing romance and sex is a huge part of that. Lots of ideas. Things that would be kind of fun to say: THIS IS CANNON XXX LOL

Nothing that would shock grandma, of course.

So I wonder: keep it in my private folder, or share it?

Stories

WP – Haunted

 

It was the shrieks in the night that I wanted to address first. I could live with the bloodstained walls, the ghostly figures standing behind my reflection in the mirror, and the lights continually flickering like it was a party, but I needed my sleep.

I went to the toy store and bought a cheap Ouija board, made of plastic and cardboard. It was pink, too, because that was the only model they had in stock, and the box featured pictures of teenage girls asking silly questions along the lines of, “Who has a crush on me?”

Later. I promised myself. If it worked with getting me a night of undisturbed rest, then maybe I could spend a few minutes indulging in secret questions about my personal life. I couldn’t imagine any demons being attracted to the ridiculously girly thing tucked under my arm, so I was probably safe in that regard.

Home was an Edwardian bungalow. I had loved it so much when I first saw it, I had ignored the warning signs: like the way the real estate agent had refused to be alone and kept looking over her shoulder. In retrospect, I should have realized something was up. But I was caught up in admiring the original woodwork and the rich color of the brick, and didn’t pay her any mind. I guess you could say that I was too busy geeking out.

The housing market crashed before the ink was dry on the paperwork, and now I was stuck. No money to move, and no one to buy. I was the owner of a bona fide haunted house.

It had been months since I’ve slept straight through the night, and there were dark circles under my eyes. If those ghosts managed to kill me, I vowed, I was going to haunt them to see how they liked it.

I set myself up on the kitchen table. I wasn’t sure if the Ouija board would work with only one person, but I couldn’t turn to anyone else for help. It seemed like everyone I divulged my circumstances to either insisted that I needed to see a psychiatrist, or wanted to worship the Devil in my basement. There were a surprising number of really disturbed people in my social circle, to the point that I decided that I needed to reevaluate my life choices.

Later, after I had slept on it.

I put my fingertips on the planchette and said in my most authoritative voice, “I command you to speak! Who are you?”

The lights dimmed and the fixture started to swing, but the planchette remained completely still. I had the feeling that the ghosts were laughing at me.

I snapped. “Fine, guys, whatever! The fact is, I’m stuck here and you aren’t going to get rid of me no matter what. Could you just cool it during the night so I can get some rest? I’m going crazy here!”

This time, everything went completely still, and even the usual bumps that continually sounded in the background were silent.

“Thank you!” I exclaimed, and this time the planchette began to move. It was a strange sensation, as if my hands were pushing it despite my efforts to keep them limp, and I watched it slowly pick out the letters:

S-O-R-R-Y

“It’s cool. You were probably just excited to talk to me, and wanted my attention. Right? You seem alright to me,” I said. I wondered if this was the beginning of a strange friendship with my ghostly roommates, but nothing else happened.

I kept asking questions for another half-hour, but got no other responses. I even, on a lark, asked if there was anyone who wanted to date me, but nothing. Sheesh.

I said goodbye, packed the board up, and went to bed. The next morning I woke up feeling better than I had in a long time, and all the usual hauntings picked right back up, including the ghastly image of a corpse glaring at me in the mirror as I brushed my teeth.

I could live with this.

Muse, Uncategorized

Inspiration

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This made me laugh my butt off.

I quit using made up fantasy names when I was 15, and I don’t like reading books that use them either.

But I still laughed my butt off.

About Writing

Word Count

Sometimes I angst about word count.

The way I see it, most people take forever to say absolutely nothing, so a novel with 90,000 words is going to be mostly rambling — it really shouldn’t take 1,000 words to say something that can be expressed in 10, but people do it anyway. I don’t read epic novels because of this.

I’m naturally a straightforward and concise person, so how people manage to put out so much filler leaves me baffled. How on earth do they manage to avoid getting to the point for so long?

However, reading is like listening to music, in the sense that it possesses a rhythm and flow. Sometimes I worry that my blunt phrasing leaves others feeling that the experience was too short for their liking. Yes, I made my point and told the story, but maybe I should have lingered on a few particular scenes purely for the sake of making them longer and more satisfying.

Like sex, for the analogy. Sometimes you want to play around and draw things out, instead of just getting right to the orgasms. Of course, sometimes its been a long day and while you want sex, you also want to get off quickly so you can fall asleep wrapped in post-coital bliss. Too long, and you start to go numb.

Though, I did read that intercourse lasts for only 6 minutes on average, so maybe that’s a bad comparison. I’m also deliberately trying to ramble, to see how it feels. It’s chaotic. Can’t say I enjoy it.

Maybe I should make my characters stupid, so they get into more trouble and generate more drama. And side plots. Hilarity ensues, and all that jazz. To help the readers feel like they’re hanging out more.

Or sex scenes. Because sex, lol.

I dunno.

I don’t want to be the sort of person who churns out epic novels, but I worry that I tend to under do it. I hope the fact that I’m focusing on e-books for cheap/free helps compensate for my blunt personality, though maybe it doesn’t matter as much as I fear.

I’m still not at 400 words. Good god, how do people do it? I made my point ages ago, came up with a titillating analogy, and now all I’ve got to go on is repetition.

Repetition.

Pointed repetition.

Reeeepeeetiiitiooooon.

Meh, I’ll never get there.