Tag: writing

About Me

Embracing Horror: A Journey to Authentic Writing

Autumn

I went on a two-hour hike. It was quiet — the sort of vast spacious quiet that makes it easier to think — with just me and my dog for most of it. As I trekked along downhill along switchbacks, it occurred to me that I like myself a lot more now. One of those random moments where I felt more … authentic, I suppose is the word.

Authentically carrying my dog over the icy patches because he didn’t like the cold on his paws.

Authenticity is one of those words that gets tossed around like it’s a panacea, so I’m reticent to use it. What I mean is that my thoughts are becoming increasingly my own, free from external pressures and expectations. Purely me. The way I am. And I like this much better.

It’s exhausting, maintaining someone else’s grandiosity. I won’t do that anymore.

I’ve been thinking about switching over to writing horror.

I’ve deeply enjoyed horror since high school, but it was one of those, “Nice girls don’t like scary things,” so I kept it quiet. Sort of. Admittedly I could get pretty excited when discussing Lovecraft or movies, so it was probably more of an open secret that I didn’t discuss around people who were uncomfortable with it. But the world has changed a lot in the last 15 years, and I think people are more okay with horror now than they used to be.

Anyway, I think it would be easy to tweak my current WIPs to turn them into psychological horror/thrillers.

All I have to do is take away the guardrails.

As in, no more characters gaining self-awareness at a pivotal moment and deciding that they don’t want to be meanie jerks after all.

That doesn’t happen in the real world anyway.

Because IRL absolutely everything about them is invested into maintaining their ego. I think there’s a “narcissists prayer” or something that sums it up perfectly, and there aren’t ever any moments of, “Oh dang, maybe I am a heartless monster and I should stop.”

We should stop giving them the benefit of the doubt.

Shine the light on the fact that evil doesn’t always have a criminal record. Or pop out of a TV screen to eat you. Sometimes evil is the person who insists on “shades of gray” so you don’t call them out on their willingness to harm others to get what they want, and accusing you of being the one who is rigid and judgmental for simply trying to describe what happened.

So let’s take away the guardrails. Poof. Gone. It’s not about being “nice” or “wholesome” or whatever anymore — it’s about surviving something real and regaining my sense of self.

Now … all that’s left is regaining that sense of emotional resonance with writing.

About Me

Coping with False Allegations in Co-Parenting

Autumn

Back in November I hurt my knee, and now when I sit for too long my calf muscle becomes tight and painful. I probably should have started wearing some sort of knee brace back when the injury happened, but I could never muster up the motivation to buy one. Modern life is rather tricky when sitting triggers pain like this.

I keep thinking about last summer when he made allegations of neglect against me, filed with the court with no investigation or evidence, in an effort to gain full custody. I answered the door with all the kids eating in the dining room, had the papers served to me, and had to hold it all together while keeping everything a secret.

A few days ago I learned that he had been going around telling people that I was neglecting the kids around the same time — including when we had been out on coparenting activities together.

I had suspected it. I’ve watched enough Dr Ramani to know that this sort of behavior is typical for a certain personality type, but the confirmation feels like an entirely different beast.

It hurts to remember how I had been running myself ragged trying to achieve everything single-handedly, while at the same time he was spreading false allegations against me. Heck, I even coordinated and paid for weekly picnics to get him to spend more time with the kids, and that was his response. Brush your teeth, brush your hair, three meals a day, laundry laundry laundry, homeschooling, soothe tears and fix problems, put up with him telling me I’m a bad mother for letting the toddler get more than three feet away from me on the sidewalk, spend all my money on things the children need while I go without, rinse and repeat day after day after day.

Only to be accused of negligence.

The silver lining is that my hard work was so obvious, the people who knew me didn’t believe it for a second and were enormously horrified at his behavior. I wouldn’t be where I am today if his actions hadn’t spoken of how badly I needed help to get through.

Now here I am and I can’t get it off of my mind. Logically I know why it happened — as I’ve said, I’ve watched enough Dr Ramani to understand it. That doesn’t stop it from feeling like a core wound. I had always dedicated every moment of every day to the well being of my children, and now it’s permanently on record with the court that he had made the allegations against me. The part where he didn’t have any evidence against me is a footnote at the very end.

And the violation of learning that he had been accusing me of negligence just outside of earshot? I don’t know how I feel about that.

Maybe this is the sort of post that qualifies as “too personal” or too emotional, but writing helps me process. If we always keep our stories secret then we’ll never know how many others have endured and survived similar, and we need to know that we aren’t alone.

About Me

Embracing Creative Freedom in 2026

Autumn

I have now, finally, fixed the “unidentified network” issue with my laptop. Hurrah, I shall be back to blogging!

Which only leaves us the question, What will we talk about?

Maybe nothing. It was nice seeing you. Ciao.

😉😂

Alright, alright. Here we are in 2026, and I don’t have any New Year’s resolutions. I have plenty of plans, dreams, ambitions even, but no resolutions. I don’t want to hit the end of this year and think, “Yet again I failed.”

Like back when I was all, “I want to write and self-publish one novel a year.” And it’s now been how many years without any writing? Yeah, we’re not doing that again. I’m keeping everything open-ended and letting it happen as it happens, so I don’t have to face that particular brand of disappointment.

Joint custody still feels like living two separate lives that keep interrupting each other. It’s hard.

I’ve started saying to myself, “Tomorrow I’m going to work on a creative project.” Then I randomly get a phone call from an old acquaintance, and the trip down Memory Lane ends with me curled up in front of the TV and no motivation to do anything. I didn’t realize that I knew so many people. I didn’t realize that so many people would say, “Actually, I thought he didn’t treat you well.” Despite me trying to pretend like everything was boring and normal because I don’t want anyone to worry about me. And that was what people were thinking before last summer when he decided to turn really nasty.

The one that really threw me was when a new acquaintance that I met a couple of months ago called me up out of the blue with, “I heard about him”, and I have no clue how so much information is traveling around. I’m not upset, but definitely baffled. Eventually it will all be old news anyway, and Memory Lane will become appropriately dirty and overgrown from disuse.

Despite that, I am making progress on Runemaster. Switching to Malachi’s perspective was the right move, and the words are flowing more readily than they had been before. That picnic scene that awkwardly dragged on forever? Yeah, that’s going to be cut entirely. Maybe I’ll type it up and post it here for a good laugh, but it’s not going to be part of the final novel, that’s for sure.

I keep wondering if I should start reading books again, but focusing on them is harder than focusing on writing. Maybe I’ll play through Hatoful Boyfriend again and count that as reading.

Well, my friend, let’s see how 2026 turns out for the both of us. 😊

About Me

Finding My Voice: Writing from a New Perspective

Autumn

I’m a little surprised at how much of a stumbling block my little laptop “unidentified network” malfunction is for me. I keep thinking that I should reinstall Windows, but the fact that I’m not the most computer savvy is making me pause. Also, we just had Christmas, and that’s a good excuse to not try anything new.

I have a desktop computer that works fine, but something about sitting at a desk is more than I want to bother with.

So, essentially, I haven’t been blogging because I simply couldn’t be bothered to get out of my recliner.

Writing wise, I’ve decided not to use anything that I’ve written for Runemaster over the past two months, and instead I will rewrite it from Malachi’s perspective. It was too slow paced and awkward — too reflective of a life turned upside down and a mind turned inside out. It will be easier for me to write in the steady voice of the mentor.

Malachi isn’t just any old character. He’s existed for 20 years now and has had countless adventures written about him. He might just be the source of wisdom that I need.

It’s hard to keep momentum going with joint custody. The routines between days with and without the kids are so different that I haven’t yet found a good rhythm. I am sleeping much better than I have in years though, so it’s a matter of time.

I finally figured out how to change my HVAC filter; better late than never? I suppose that I won’t tell you how much time I spent staring at the furnace, trying to will it into giving up its secrets… in my defense, I didn’t have the slightest clue what I was looking for until I finally found it. And it was camouflaged. Then had an old water heater placed in front of it. It was not easy. 😅

I think that I can handle independence well enough.

It feels good.

About Me

Facing Fear in Writing: Advancing Your Plot

Autumn

NaNoWriMo has made me realize that I’m terrified of advancing the plot.

The characters have been on a picnic that kind of keeps dragging along with small talk and tiny hints at bigger things, only instead of getting up and doing anything, they’re sitting around. It’s starting to feel like my characters are looking at me with expectations, asking, “Well … when are we allowed to do something important?”

And all I can reply is, “I don’t know, where is my life going?!”

While I know where I intended the story to progress, I don’t feel anchored in it yet. It feels more like a half-forgotten dream than a series of events. Instead of trying to move forward, I’m keeping the characters sitting around the same spot, because I’m scared of changing the status quo.

Much like my life.

I think I spent about 15 years feeling like nothing ever fundamentally changed — a sort of monotony in constant chaos. No matter what happened, there’d be a big ol’ reset button that would put us all back in the same place with the same problems day after day after day. Explosive argument? Reset. New career prospect? Reset. Emotional breakthroughs and new promises? Reset.

Then one day the reset button didn’t activate.

Progress and change stopped being a fantasy to write about — it became real.

And it’s terrifying.

Especially because it’s like some sort of existential switch was flipped, and here I am trying to hide out at home maintaining the status quo for long enough to catch my breath, while people I hadn’t spoken to in 10 years are randomly calling me up to offer a path forward. Seriously, what the heck is going on? It feels like I’m sliding helplessly towards change. Maybe that’s what life is supposed to feel like.

So on an emotional level, I’m scared of advancing the plot in my novel. The characters want to move forward, and here I am all, “Let’s spend 10,000 words on this picnic. I described the weather as being very lovely.”

The problem with being a writer is that sometimes your psychological issues have a voice and can (metaphorically) stare you in the eye. Especially when you’re trying to get as much writing done in a month as you can.

About Me

Overcoming Laptop Troubles: My Journey with AI Assistance

Autumn

I’ve been having plenty of laptop issues over the last couple of months.

I had two of them, and the first developed that issue where the battery swells up and it becomes an explodey fire hazard. Heck, for all I know, the battery started swelling awhile ago and it took me that long to realize it, given that I was under an enormous amount of stress. Since I lack the means to fix it, that laptop had to be retired.

Which brings me to my second laptop.

My second laptop turned into a diagnostic nightmare. You see, it was having a strange problem where some websites would load, and others wouldn’t – the ones that wouldn’t happened to be the important ones, naturally, which meant that my laptop wasn’t exactly usable. So, I turned to ChatGPT.

It took us days to figure it out, but we did. Part of it was because I was prone to feeling overwhelmed and flopping down in despair, so it’s a good thing that AI is infinitely patient and accommodating. Turns out my laptop was flagging my internet connection as an “unidentified network,” and ChatGPT walked me through a temporary fix that I have to do every time I use my laptop. One of these days I’m going to reinstall Windows for a permanent fix, but not yet. Right now, I’m still burnt out on that whole “fixing computers” thing (definitely not a future career choice for me 😝).

It feels good knowing that I was able to figure out what was wrong with my laptop, and I’m grateful that I’m a single mom in an era where AI exists. Not only can I solve problems that are well outside my sphere of knowledge, I have a voice that will reassure me, “You’ve got this!” when I’m flopping down in despair.

Some days I really need that voice.

But it is getting better.

I filed a maintenance report with the rental company, and lo and behold someone came out and fixed the issue. No drama. No complaints. Just … fixed. I almost don’t know how to process it. I guess that I was fairly normalized to everything being a big hullabaloo all the time. No wonder I was so exhausted for so long. No wonder that people are commenting that I look much better now.

I didn’t do any writing for NaNoWriMo during my time with my kids, as I anticipated. Instead, we reveled in music, drank hot cocoa, played with friends, and did our homework. I did dream about the future though, and I’ve decided that one of these days soon here, I’m going to pick up my old project of writing The Scion Suit as a visual novel. Heck if I know anything about programming, but I have ChatGPT in my corner! Besides, that was my last project before I started feeling sabotaged, and it’s a step towards the sort of writing projects that I’ve always secretly fantasized about.

Who knows, maybe it will turn out that script writing has been my undiscovered forte all along. For whatever reason, I’ve never tried my hand at it despite being so character oriented, and it might be nice to focus on the dialogue while letting my weak areas slide. Let’s give it a shot and see where it takes us.

About Me

Finding Passion in Creativity and Writing

Autumn

I don’t have to be a new person.

Maybe that’s an odd epiphany to have, but I was forced into a “fresh start”, and figuring out how to move forward has been … difficult. Part of me felt like I should reject everything about who I was and be a totally different person, to protect myself in the future. More pragmatic, less vulnerable.

But there are a lot of things about me that I like.

I like that I’m a writer, for one. It’s a deep passion that I keep coming back to, no matter what life throws at me — a calling that I’m lucky to have as an anchor.

I like that I’m a fiber artist. I like creating beautiful things out of fabric, thread, and yarn, and the way the kids love the items I make for them. Heck, I even love the “Did you make that?” attention that I get in public.

So maybe I don’t need to jump into a new education to build a new career as a new person. Maybe I can stay exactly who I am and peddle the skills I already have.

Despite what I’ve been told, my skills are valid.

I am valid.

I don’t have to reject me just because he did.

So here we are on day two of NaNoWriMo. I’ve decided to handwrite my first draft for now, and I like working with the TV playing in the background. It feels cozy to be curled up in my recliner with my favorite blanket and a notebook propped against the armrest. I have yet to feel a deep connection with the story and characters, but I am making progress in the words.

I over-prepared with the Halloween candy and didn’t get many trick-or-treaters, so now I’m left wondering how much I should give to my kids versus how much I should hoard for myself. You know the stereotype of writers who smoke while typing away? For me it’s candy.

If I hoard the leftovers for myself, I’ll certainly be well stocked for NaNoWriMo.

(I wrote this yesterday, and forgot to hit ‘publish’ 😅)

About Me

Reclaiming My Writing Dreams with NaNoWriMo

Autumn

I’ve decided to do NaNoWriMo this year.

Since I now have joint custody, I have tons and tons of child-free time for myself, and my house is probably a little excessively clean these days (do I really need to scrub down the walls every week?). I want to kick myself back into the writing habit, and the timing lines up perfectly for NaNoWriMo! Yay!

Which, admittedly, I probably won’t follow the way it’s intended. I am still a mom, and I still have plenty of days of childcare on my plate. Maybe I’ll take 2 months to make up for the 50-50 time division.

Participating in NaNoWriMo also feels like coming full circle, since the last time I gave it a shot I ended up meeting my now-ex-husband, and never finished that story. It’s time for me to reclaim the path I had wanted to journey so many years ago, after all those broken promises and surrendered dreams.

It’s hard to explain the sort of relief I feel, at the thought of planning out an entire month knowing that each day should be more-or-less predictable … or how terrified I am that they won’t be. However, I can’t let fear of what may or may not happen dictate my choices for me, so I might as well plow ahead like everything is going to be boring and stable.

So let’s jump right into the action plan:

I’m going to be continuing Runemaster, rather than coming up with anything new. Maybe it’s cheating that I already have a portion written, but I’m working with the limitations here — what I went through this year is not the sort of stuff that one just “moves on” from. So, rather than inventing anything new from my poor exhausted brain, I’m sticking with characters that are already familiar. Deeply familiar, in this case, considering that I originally created these characters about 20 years ago. Writing this novel will be very emotionally comforting for a number of reasons.

What I can’t decide right now is whether I want to type the story, or handwrite it. I used to always handwrite the first draft with the most colorful pens I own, but who knows if I’m going to want to go through the trouble of typing it up later. Choices, right? LOL

Part of me kind of wishes that my only responsibility was to scrub walls and wash laundry, but I can’t hide behind chores forever. I still have dreams to pursue, goals to accomplish, and a life to rebuild.

NaNoWriMo Day 1: I will write 1000 words.

It will be terrible, rusty, and full of self-doubt, but it will be writing.

That’s the important part.

About Me

Navigating Life Changes: Embracing Creativity Without AI

Autumn

My divorce came with the sense of being excommunicated for falling from grace. There’s something romantic about that, as if I were the servant of a petty god who found disfavor with me and cast me out to tread upon mortal ground, and now here I am picking my way along a rocky hiking trail as a warm October wind smacks me in the nose with dead leaves. Not every moment can be cinematic.

I hiked until my fear of heights kicked in, and while I’m logically certain that my feet were solidly planted on the ground, I couldn’t stop the light-headed notion that every footstep was perpetually sliding towards the edge and my inevitable death, so I turned around and headed home, much to my dog’s relief. He’s not a fan of windy heights either.

The thing is …

My AI art set up was dependent on that grace from which I have fallen. Unfortunately, my posts about how to generate AI art are the most popular, go figure.

The depressing part is that it’s not like AI art even meaningfully existed until a couple of years ago, yet now I feel the loss of it deeply. No more character portraits. No more setting the scene. No more visual supplements for my writing. At least not the same way that I used to.

I could download Stable Diffusion et al, but at the moment it doesn’t feel right. I’m too busy relearning how to be mortal … free from the gaze of my petty god.

Perhaps instead I’ll go back to my roots. I’ll channel the energy of that 17-year-old who’s Creative Writing teacher advised her to express all of her emotions through writing, and all she needed was a gel pen and a notebook.

We can save the fancy technology for the editing phase.

Meanwhile, I’ll have to figure out how to draw traffic to my blog without all the fancy keywords and visuals.

About Me

Overcoming Anxiety: My Journey to Healing

Autumn

It’s difficult to start.

I was so stressed out that I was vomiting and I ended up losing 20lbs in two months. I also spent a month in crisis counseling.

I also learned how to reach out and open up, to tell the people around me about what was going on. I discovered that people are a lot more supportive than I expected … and that the truth of my situation was a lot more visible than I had been led to believe.

And now here I am, in a better place. Quite literally, too. I have a great view of the sunset from my new home, and I’m in walking distance of nature — I like to take my dog out and have small chats with strangers.

I also still have anxiety when my doorbell sensor goes off. The occasional bad dream. Triggers that lead to quiet meltdowns … in a nutshell, PTSD.

Not exactly the life I dreamed of. I keep going round and round in my head, asking, “Can one person really cause this much damage?” It seems so unbelievable, that a person can hurt someone this much without it being a crime. Yet it happened. I know it every time I step on the scale and see how much weight I have yet to gain back.

The far more important question now is, “Where do I go from here?”

I often wonder if my fantasy life — the way I imagine myself getting up and spending the days if everything was perfect — is achievable or not. I have a clean house now, with white walls. Day-to-day life is running more smoothly than it has in a long, long time, and my thoughts are feeling more alive than they have in years. So maybe, just maybe, I can achieve my dreams.

I’m definitely not getting bombarded with criticism and demands the way I was not too long ago.

Let’s work on baby steps.

I want to be a writer. I’ve always wanted to be a writer. So let’s write. Casual. Small. No pressure sort of writing. Free writes. Story snippets. Totally random stuff that has nothing to do with anything.

Then one day, I’ll pick my bigger projects back up and start self-publishing novels again.

You ready?

I’m not sure if I am.

But I can’t spend my life always waiting for the next crisis to hit. I want to take charge and make my dreams come true.