Showing posts from July, 2006

Human Nature

What a misnomer. Human nature. Do those words really belong together in a phrase? Somehow I don't think so. Over the course of this weekend, I've been subjected to some strange examples of human nature. Somehow, most of them don't seem either human or natural.

Example #1: In the small, southeastern Ohio town where I live, a man was arrested for running a puppy mill. In a tiny two bedroom house, that he no longer occupied, the Animal Protection officers and police confiscated 51 puppies, 12 breeding dogs, 21 cats and a skunk. I will not describe the condition of the house; suffice it to say that the house is now condemned. As are the animals freed from that hellhole. They are too unwell and malnourished to be saved. Human? Not hardly. Natural? Anything but.

Example # 2: Last night a group of young adults (yes, I backspaced over the word 'kids') came into the bar. They were with a University Habitat for Humanity group and were in the area building a hom…

The Ramifications of the Do Not Call List

English is a complicated language. I know it. You know it. Everyone apparently knows it save for telemarketers.

Recently I switched away from satelite providing all my services (phone, internet, cable) and returned to a land line phone based system. The reasons? A: I'm really damn tired of my cable bill going up every two months when it's already ridiculous. B: I like to work when it's raining. and C: Because the local provider REALLY pissed me off. As soon as I got the new phone number, I placed it on the national Do Not Call reegistry.

I get enough phone calls from the people I owe money to. There's no need for someone to call me to get me to spend more money.

At any rate, this morning the phone rings at 8:15 a.m. Being a preternaturally light sleeper, of course it woke me up. Since I tended bar last night, I'm thinking it's GOT to be an emergency of some sort. No one in their right mind who knows me would call me before noon the day after a closing shift.


Bleary-eyed and coffee driven

Wow. yesterday was a long day.

I'm looking at my *to do* list and trying not to get discouraged. Although I did manage to finish the anthology story yesterday, I'm at a loss as to what to accomplish today.

I know I have to work on the website. *looks glum* God I hate that.

I also got my cover art for Goddess' Revenge last night! Woohoo! Wanna see? I like it. Okay, okay, I LOVE it, but that's just the ego-driven part of me. Wonder if I can print off a good copy and frame it?

Of course, I do have to concentrate on edits from the proofers at some point today. Maybe that'll be what I should do next.

After I get back from the vet....darn cat.

Update number Two

Whew! Finished the anthology story, clocking in with a final word count of 13,589. Damn. There's still a lot of tweaking to do to it, but I'm reasonably pleased with it. It comes to a natural conclusion for this anthology, doesn't screw up the world, and is a fairly good leaping-off point for future projects.

Now, back to the website.

Update Number One

Managed to rebound on the anthology story. I'm now sitting at 11k again and steamrolling.

Tried to work on my website. Just saw Sierra's revamped version and it made me jealous. Mine still looks like crap.

And, par for the course, I realized when I saw my author bio on the Changeling website today that I'd actually posted the wrong damn name. You have to be pretty stupid to do that.

(Guess who wins Idiot of the Day honors?)

Aside from that, I did manage to get dinner in the oven. Now I'll be able to eat a hot meal while still plugging away on Mneston.

If Life Is Like A Box of Chocolates...

....then why in the hell do I always end up with licorice?

I think my brain has finally, officially fried. This morning, in an effort to be "productive", I made out a 'to do' list for the week. Within ten minutes, the whole damn thing was nullified. Let me give you a sample:

*Celina's To Do List*

1. Finish anthology story. (I then promptly scrapped another 6k from it and started all over. Glutton for punishment)

2. Work on website. (I then realized that I now need TWO websites--one for me, one for the porn hack)

3. Finish edits. (Still waiting....)

4. Clean house. (what? this cesspool that is nothing but a huge cat toy? Ha! As if....)

5. Get Darkshifters finished. (looks around for muse, kicks her in the rear, and watches her scurry away to the closet)

6. Get all critiques done. (yeah, like I'm going to be able to do that before I finish my own anthology story. Why is the word count going BACKWARDS on it anyway?)

7. Create promotional plan for GR. (uh, ok…

Just Another Day In The Life ...

This has been a strange week.

I got the rewrites for Goddess' Revenge finally, and did them in about an hour. Interestingly enough, they were actually on the light side. I don't know whether to be happy or scared about that. Also, I managed to eliminate all of the gynecological terms I have a personal problem with. That was way cool.

Now, I intend to crank out the rest of the anthology story today. My goal is to keep Mneston at about 12K. Somehow, I doubt that will happen, but we'll see.

Last night, while I was at work, an old friend came into the bar unexpectedly. He's enlisted in the Army, where he was tops in his basic class and airborne class and ships off to Germany on Sunday. It was great to see him, but it was a moment tinged with a bit of sadness too. We never mentioned it, but we both know that Germany is the staging area for quick mobilization troops. It was sad, and sweet, and ultimately a reality check.

I think I might put my political science degree…

But, the Messiah has Whiskers

Naturally, after my last feline rant I find myself in the position where I have to take the reverse point of view.

Damn that collegiate debate program. Granted, it did pay for most of my college education, but now I am fundamentally incapable of sticking to one point of view.

The kitten (whose name is Asphodel) is now my hero. All the bad things aside, she is pretty damned cute. Adorable, really. She's learned to beg for milk, which is quite humorous particularly since everytime the refrigerator is opened she associates it with food. She flies around the corner into the kitchen, her tail curled like a shepherd's crook, and when she gives that pitiful little 'meow' I can't help but give her milk.

Then, when it's nap time there are only two places she likes: the top of the monitor or my lap. That's irresistible.

Then, when I go to bed, she knows it's bedtime. God love a kitten that knows when to go to sleep.

But, most importantly, a story that Asph…

The Antichrist Has Fur

Okay, I have offically decided: the kitten is really the Antichrist. The mark of the beast? Calico striping. The number of the beast? The 666 times that the kitten has begged for milk, misbehaved, broken something, chewed on a cord, decided to help my writing by walking randomly across the keyboard while I'm getting a glass of milk, attacked the bigger cats, got stuck in the kitchen cabinet, decided that keeping my car keys from me was a fabulous joke, or climbed the vacuum cleaner bag and yelled at me.

All this is today.

At the moment, she's sitting almost directly in front of the monitor swatting at the amazing line of little black things that just keeps growing and growing....

No, kitten. Bad kitten. Do not jump at the monitor. It hurts when you hit your head on glass.

Why fear the Antichrist when it's six inches long, fuzzy, and has an annoying habit of purring at you when you extricate it from someplace it shouldn't be? For some reason, generations of the faithful hav…

Shoot the Muse

Why is it that my muse and I are never on the same page?


As of late, whenever I set aside time to work on a specific project, I find myself compelled to write about something completely different. For example, I am trying very hard to get Coils completed. I'm almost desperate to whip the plot into shape for the last half of the book (mostly so I can find out what happens); I've worked and reworked the story line for three months but so far it hasn't become what I want for it to be. So, having some involuntary time off from work this week, I set aside five hours a day to work on it and try to get the damn thing done.

The result? Well, I finished my new erotica novella The Stone Table, wrote a new short story, and have developed the Dragon's Den anthology story beyond my original expectations. How many words have I written on Coils?

Two sentences. Twenty seven words --and that's counting articles.

Even my old stand-by, music, hasn't helped. I develo…


Y'know itsh vewwy hawd to bwog when yer dwunk. Speling goes away. So doesh coeherintsy. For that matter, I'm not shur I had a bwan at th momen. For shome reashon, my fwendsh *not sharcashm* thought I desirved shampain lasht night.


(whew! this is hard to do when you're hung over!)

Drunken lingo aside, needless to say today I feel like (an) ass. It's not that I can't hold my licquor, it's just that two bottles of Moet Chandon champagne is too much even for one of my vaunted alcholic professionalism. it's not that I have a hangover, really--more like a 24 hour period of brain farting. *sigh* What fun.

And, of course, tonight I get to g0 into work and listen to everyone tell me how much fun I had.

Cretins. I think tonight it's time to break out my old-standby punishment shot: a German Taco. This is usually the drink I give to people who think I *owe* them a shot because it's their birthday--whether I've ever seen them before or not.…

Um.....You're Kidding, Right?

Believe it or not, I actually got more than five hours of sleep last night.

It was completely unintentional; I intended to get up at 7 as I always do, but for some reason my body demanded more shut-eye. How long has it been since I slept until noon? Probably ten years, if not more. Post-back-surgery-days don't count.

At any rate, I finally drag my lazy ass out of bed and discover that the cats, taking advantage of my unusual inattention, have decided to destroy the house. After cleaning up shards of broken glass, replacing paperbacks in the bookshelf, finding a very unpleasant surprise in the middle of my rug, and returning various food boxes to the cabinets that only Muggle can open, I relented and fed the little bastards.

Seems that they want their breakfast on time.

The kitten, of course, got fed first. She still gets her kitten milk a couple of times a day. So far she has not graduated to num-nums (celinaese for canned food), but the other vagrants lined up, as usual for th…


I've been thinking a lot about writer techniques lately.

You know, writing is not an easy craft. There are definite rules and regulations involved, particularly if publishing is a writer's goal. The English language is inherently a pain in the ass, because there are so many rules with so many exceptions. It's very easy to get sloppy.

I try -- note the word try -- to write even my first drafts in as grammatically correct a mode as possible. Then, my writing critique group gets it and rips it to shreds, which is good. I listen to them. I trust their opinions and expertise. For the most part, my storylines seem to be okay. It's the damn commas and adverbs that kick my ass.


So now, when I review, I turn into a fiend on that. *sigh* Absolutely retarded.

Last week, my story about a cross-dressing dwarf was accepted for publication by Jupiter World Press. I was pretty excited about it--still am, actually. "Free Willy" has been a mantra for the Drag…