What Did I Do Wrong?

I am currently beating my head against the desk. I just got to listen to my daughter go off on an anti-abortion tirade.

Wait. Let me say that again. MY daughter (who apparently has absorbed NOTHING in my house) is ranting like an established 60-year-old pro-life male. Anyone who knows me is perfectly well aware that I am anything but indifferent to political issues. They also know that my basic tenet on such issues boils down to PERSONAL choices, whether those choices deal with abortion or who to vote for or homosexuality.

PERSONAL choice.

But, oh my heart stopped to hear my daughter go off on a tirade about *baby-murder.* Damnit. It's not so much her stance that I disagree with; it's the complete and total lack of tolerance for a point of view that she does not share. Evidently, I have failed in one aspect of parenting--despite all the allusions to the contrary, I have neglected to instill an open mind into at least one of my children.

Now, it is important for ME to have an open mind in regards to HER. If I say no to any request, I am narrow-minded. I've even been called old-fashioned.

ROFLMAO! Yes, I laughed at that too. Laughed hysterically until tears rolled down my face. If she only knew! Old-fashioned? Okay--if you can call having 21st century ideals old-fashioned then I guess I am.

But this? What's next? Racism? Homophobia? An affiliation with *gasp* either of the two American political parties?????

Say it ain't so, Joe. Say it ain't so.

It was almost more than I could do to restrain the comment (complete with statistics, Supreme Court decisions, and real-life examples) that bubbled to my lips when she told me. It was all I could do to remember my own priority on how important it is for my daughters to create their own points-of-view on ANY issue and not to impose my own upon. It was hard, VERY hard, to murmur a noncommittal "That's nice, dear." and walk away.

But, I did.

Maybe that will bring the lesson home, more than my previous lessons ever have.

Who needs to blog when...

.....you can make movies instead. This new program is addictive. Check out the Doom Bunny movie I made for Bibsy!

http://shootthemuse.bravehost.com/movies.html

The reason for all of this movie making frenzy? Well, let's just say other people don't know how to drive in the snow. Our van ended up in a ditch--hard--yesterday morning thanks to some idiot in a "four wheel drive" truck. Quite nice.

What was even nicer was the hospital trip afterward.

So, once again, I am laid up in bed and not permitted to move. Even I can't write for all those hours straight, so I've been amusing myself with making movies instead. I started looking into this because some authors I am acquainted with pay people to make promos for them. I wanted to see how easy it was.

It's not easy. It's not that hard, either. It is meticulous work, however, so I don't advise trying it if you're in the slightest bit easy to annoy.

Ten a.m.--time for more medicine.

Too much time on my hands.

Oh dear. Found a new hobby today. Check out this movie!

http://www.toufee.com/cgi-bin/myMovie.pl?u=35081169226862

Ah......Release Day! Pass Me The Vodka

So, the Shequanti comes out today. Once again, I'm excited. I love it when I have something on the verge of publication. Will it do well? Will people like it? Will my fragile writer's ego be stoked by some anonymous reader actually giving me a "good job"?!?!?!

Ah, the possibilities.

Yeah, so it's an e-publication. Yeah, so it's erotica. Big whoop. I still try to craft the stories with as much care as I put into my other work--actually a little bit more. I don't have vocabularic problems with mainstream. There are only so many terms for anatomical features, after all. But, I strive to create a credible plot and vibrant characters and I still have those moments of "Oh, my gosh--what if it doesn't work?"

The fact that I can't write a single book plays into that. I mean, what if the first book is so loathed by the general population that my publisher says, "Uh. sorry but this sucks." ACK! That would go on the wall of shame with all of those rejection letters.

Oh, I haven't told you about my wall? This is pretty funny. For the longest time, I thought that it would be neat to frame acceptance letters and hang them over my desk for inspiration. However, since reverse psychology has always seemed to work better for me I've been hanging rejection letters. It's become my list of people to say "I told you so" to in a few years.

You know, a few years from now when I'm rich and famous.

Yeah, I cracked up at that line too.

At any rate, some of the rejections are so out there that I actually blew them up so that I read them while reclining in my chair. After all, who wouldn't want to look up at a moment when struggling with a dangling participle and see some poignant comment like, "This is the most derivative story I've read in five years."???

But, I digress.

This release is a bit different from the Mythos books. For one thing, the plot is entirely mine and not based on an obscure Roman novel from the second century. For another thing, it's more of a test of my storytelling skills. It would have been difficult to screw up Cupid and Psyche. The Shequanti, on the other hand, was born in my little head. That's enough to screw it up from the get-go.

We'll see how it goes. I'm sure that I'll be either crying or crowing about it in the days to come. All I know at this point is that I'm hitting another milestone today. Perhaps I've been taking baby steps, but I'm still on the path. I think I'll pop off and do some work on my website.

Excuse me, but could you pass the vodka?

Playing Catch Up

All righty then. So far today has been somewhat productive, with my revamped anthology piece resubmitted to Dragon's Den. With the plot/character issues resolved, I think it makes for a much tighter piece---and I actually lost some words.

What? LOST words?

Yep--I lost about 500 words, which can only be to the good. I'll probably take another look at it when I get home from work tonight. There are a couple of other scenes I'm debating about keeping or not so I need to sit on it for a day or so and come back at it with a fresh mind.

In other news...

Getting a lot done on Shequanti 3. Spent some time this morning answering interview questions (gack! are you serious) and getting my promotional events lined up for the rest of the week. I have marked out space on my calendar (wow do I feel professional saying that) to get some more submissions circulating. I haven't had a rejection in a while; I'm starting to go through withdrawal. I have probably ten half-assed short stories I need to find a home for.

And a couple of novels or ten. *grin*

Turns out the release date for Shequanti 2 is now March the 9th. How distressing! I was hoping it would be in February--BUT, perhaps in the long run that's best anyway.

*momentary pause for cat ass-beating. china does not belong on the floor*

At any rate, I'll be doing some more work on the Shoot The Muse website this weekend and getting it in gear for the release of Asphodel. Which, I might add, is starting to make me nervous. What if it gets panned..... would I survive the emotional blow?

Meh. Damn Elves. I think I'll run off and kill a few more of them so I can get my equinamity back.

Rainy Days and Mondays Always Get Me Down

All right, already. It's January. Get over the damn rain crap and SNOW would you? This cold, miserable, incessant rain gives me a pain in the ass--okay the lower back about two vertabrae up from the ass but STILL--you get my point.

What a nasty day. No need to do anything today but write. I had a very productive day on Friday and I'm hoping to exceed that today. I have to tend bar the next two nights (waste of time), have a book release on Thursday and a hell of a lot of writing to get done. Hopefully, it will snow enough here to force me to stay home for a couple more days (thank goodness for geographic location--living on top of hill has multiple benefits)but I can't bank on that.

Oh, and by the way, you know I'm depressed if I willingly quote the Carpenters.

At any rate, I'm off to try and hit my target for the day--which is finishing book three of the Shequanti and getting some serious revisionary work done on Asphodel. I'll pop back in later with a word count.

Cheers!

Blogging as an Exercise for Writers

So, continuing on my lecture of yesterday, let's consider blogging my writing exercise of the day.

You've all heard me harp--incessantly--on the need to write daily. Every day. At least something. Even a grocery list can be creative if you sit down and put some thought into it. How is the store laid out? What do I need to buy first? Saving the frozen foods for last--it's a plan, a scheme of action that forces you to think through what you're going to do.

The same thing applies to blogging. How do I open up my mind and explore the (usually odd) sequence of events that's mulling around in there? How difficult is it to get my fingers moving on the keyboard? If I start off with a boring, mundane topic (like blogging as an exercise for writers) where will that take me?

The fact of the matter is that blogging employs WORDS. Words are a writer's tool. In order to write effectively, you have to be able to sculpt your words into a meaningful sequence. Some of you know that instead of a minimum word count per day, I employ time blocks as my spur to action. Word counts are deceptive. Yesterday, for example, was an extremely prolific day. I cranked out over 14k. That is a LOT--even for me. Nine times out of ten, however, I'd rather produce two thousand well-thought-out words than fifteen thousand aimless ones.

There are days when the thought process moves slower. I have to stop and plan what I'm going to do next, or I discover a character whose personality isn't quite shaping up. So, I'll use part of my allotted time in problem solving. Even that is productive--extremely productive for the creator of fiction.

With blogging, however, it's all about the flow of words, the ability to take a nebulous thought and craft it into a logical, pertinent expression of where the writer is at. Granted, where I'm at is usually not all that fabulous of place--BUT, finding a way to EXPRESS that....ay, there's the rub.

Sometimes blogging turns into meme. Nothing wrong with that--particularly if your meme is sarcastic and attempts to be humorous. It's a personal journal, a revelation of the personality of the writer. For the most part, however, blogging takes on a life of its own. What starts out as a rant turns into a lesson--and sometimes the lesson is for the blogger more than their readers.

So sit down, open up a blog post, and write. It doesn't matter what it is; it doesn't matter what it's about. It's writing, and that is an exercise that writers need to employ daily. Who needs pilates? Think of this as yoga for the mind. As your flexibility grows, as your mind moves through the intricate shaping of words and thoughts, your creativity expands with it--and it's much easier to attack that story that's giving you fits or that plot development that made you pull your hair out the day before.

Hop to it. Blog daily---then write.

The Fine Craft Of Creativity in Writing

Once upon a time, I succumbed to the myth that creativity was unforced and spontaneous. I believed that it was never a matter of the writer's choice as to when inspiration would strike, but a combination of chance and circumstance. I have come to the conclusion in recent weeks, however, that this is not necessarily the case.

For example...

Asphodel was entertainment driven. I was laid up on the couch for almost 3 years without vital necessities of life like internet and cable tv. I had to entertain myself, so I wrote. Every night, I went to bed after hours of working on the story. What would I do tomorrow? How would such and such plot conflict be resolved? What possible way would I find to extract the heroine from whatever her current crisis was without resorting to deus ex machina? The next morning, I'd fire up the computer with trepidation. Would the muse show up? Or, would I be relegated to playing endless hours of Snood waiting for divine revelation to strike me?

I very rarely played Snood.

It was interesting to witness, almost as if in third person, how my mind took over the solution of whatever story dilemmas I'd created the day before. I do not recollect any conscious thought going into most of my plot resolutions. They just....happened and I let the story follow the flow of my much-nimbler-than-I-realized mind.

Nowadays, things are different. I am more organized as a writer. I have allotted time blocks set aside daily for writing which I rarely miss. (Granted, lately I haven't been writing much but that's not my fault. I'm back on track now.) I don't wait for the muse to show up any more; now I drag her, kicking and screaming, to the laptop with me.

I rarely have a direction when I sit down to write, even now. I'm never quite sure which project I'll delve into until I open up the file. But then the words just flow--yes, some of them superfluous, some of them even--dare I say it?--adverbial, but still they struggle and race onto the screen without a conscious decision on my part to force them out. The difference, however, is that now when I write I am conscious of my craft.

The craft of creativity. It is a lost art in many ways. Creativity must be channelled, funnelled into a recognizable shape and form that adheres to the standards of the profession. Creativity must be restrained within the confines of the willing suspension of disbelief, yet must stretch those boundaries to the utmost if you are a speculative fiction writer. Creativity must be uniform, garbed within the strictures of grammar and vocabulary and accessibility to your readers. Asphodel was written with only one reader in mind: me. Believe it or not, it's very easy for me to understand what I'm writing. It's not quite so easy for others to follow my convoluted thought processes and extreme vocabularic choices--or so I'm told. My later stories, however, were written for other people to read. Darkshifters began as a short story that I thought I'd post at fantasy writers just to get a feel for this new world bouncing around in my head. Then it turned into a compulsion. Do any of you realize that at its height, I was churning out over a chapter a day of Darkshifters? While still working on the sixth book of Asphodel?

No wonder I'm irritable.

Lately, the erotica venture has shut out some of my more mainstream writing time. Now I have deadlines (yes, I hate them) and obligations to meet contractually. I've had to learn to focus my creative thought processes minutely into a single project in order to get it done. It is a lesson more writers need to learn. Until you've mastered the science and sitting down and writing every day whether you want to or not on a story that you don't really feel like touching at the moment you can have very little concept of what goes into the CRAFT of creativity. Not an art--that is internal and fueled by inspriation-- but a craft, a skill honed by practice and dedication over a significiant amount of time.

Make no mistake, that time factor has a hell of a lot to do with it. Until you have the time in, there's absolutely no reason for any young author to make demands on him or herself that are unattainable. In writing, more so than most creative fields, the art cannot evolve until the craft is second nature--and it is within the craft that the writer's true fulfillment is found.

Stop being so hard on yourself. It will come in time.

Aft agley

Strange isn't it, how things never work out as you plan.

The Suckeyes proved that they were, after all, no better than any other nut or legume and lay down to die in front of the Gators. *hack, hack, hurl* The only high point of Florida winning the national championship is that I get to point out ad nauseum *Well, at least Tennessee only lost to Florida by a point.*

Hehehehehe. So cruel.

Turns out the novella comes out next week now. Hurray! More time for promo! That works out well! Although I had to do quite a bit of switching up with events, it does work out much better for me. Although I am still mostly laid up upon the couch, I can at least work from the lap top without excessive .... er..... discomfort. Turns out that my spinal prosthetic is displeased with the infection that kept me laid up for the past ten days. *sigh* Nothing can ever be easy, can it?

We now have all the kitties in the new house and they are settling in nicely. No one is settling in more easily than the kitten I rescued a couple of weeks ago that my daughters named Biscuit. Biscuit? Was there ever a more ridiculous name for a cat? At any rate, Biscuit is already of the opinion that she is the Queen of the house. So far I have yet to disabuse her of the notion; she will learn as she grows older that only one can be the Queen and that is me. I am, after all, in charge of the dispensation of cat food. That makes me the ruler.

It's still cute.

As far as writing goes, over the last few days I have had the worst case of writer's block yet. I'd like to claim that it's the result of being sick, but the truth of the matter is that I just can't think of anything. I'm sure it will change. For the time being, however, I am content to be laid up on the couch with my books and a few movies while the cats play musical chairs next to me. It's a respite that I probably really need. As soon as I feel better, it'll be up and at 'em again with hammer and tongs. Might as well enjoy it while I can.

Prioritizing and Self-Justification

Ah, yes. My penchant for vocabulary has been resurrected along with my foul temper. Let's talk about prioritizing, shall we?

This is not a skill I excel at. I'll be the first to admit it. At the moment, I am a bit preoccupied with the national championship game tomorrow night...and seriously hoping that Florida gets its ass kicked.

(Obligatory football comment completed, moving on.)

At any rate, after my now-coming-up-on-eight-days-with-food-poisoning milestone, I am absolutely behind on everything that I need to do. I haven't written in five days, mostly because I can't hold my head up for longer than twenty minutes (that's getting better) I have a novella release this week that I haven't promoted at all and the deadlines for various projects are creeping closer. Scary stuff. Add to that the pomp and circumstance necessary for the national championship game at the bar (yep, my first shift back) and the desire to clean my house warring with the need to go see a movie and I am rather kerfuffled to say the least.

So, instead of doing anything about those issues, I have decided to blog.

Let's talk about a new word: self-justification. Ah....one of my favorites. Thanks to this vocabularic tidbit I can rationalize anything that I do. For example: blogging about my inability to prioritize is, in fact, promotion for the novella. How do I figure, you ask? Simple. You're reading this, aren't you? *grin* Buy the damn book.

Sorry. Momentary pause for headspins. Perhaps in a day or so, I'll be able to see straight. Until then, it's nothing but self-justification for me, pal. Mwahahahaha.

Oh, and for all you Gator fans---fear the nut.

And the Number One Reason NOT to eat at Taco Bell is.....

....ecoli, but that's not what this entry is about. Instead it is about the number two reason not to eat at Taco Bell and that's food poisoning.

I've never been poisoned before, although I'm sure some people have considered it seriously. Granted, this poisoning was an *accidental* poisoning brought on by poor sanitation and food preservation procedures (yep, had to get my dig in) but for pete's sake! After sickening loads of people with ecoli in Pennsylvania and the other northeastern states, would it have been TOO much to ask for a Taco Bell in Southern Ohio to actually made CERTAIN that the shredded chicken was good? yep, I watched New Year's Eve ushered in from the depths of my sickbed, and Dick Clark looked marginally better than I did.

If you've never had your stomach pumped, by the way, I don't recommend it even as a sado-masochistic exercise. I must admit, however, that I DID take notes. You never know when such a thing might some in handy in future stories. It's amazing what I go through for my art. *sigh*

At any rate, today is the first day I can hold my head up in five days or so, and even then only propped up by loads of pillows. I have to crank out some promotion for the Shequanti---which I'm now over a week behind on -- and I have to figure out what the latest controversy in DD is. All I know about it at the moment is one of my good friends is apologizing for using the term *fucking* to me in a post.

Yeah, don't go there. I didn't either.

Porn Hacks are USEFUL hacks

I am not certain this post will have anything to do with that title, but I just used this sentence in chat and it struck me as funny.

Oh, and kilts rock! Or, as my friend Sierra Dafoe added, "Especially upside down." Hmmm.....Johnny Depp in a kilt. Dang. Most men from Kentucky would NOT look good in a kilt. I have a feeling that Depp could pull it off.

Literally.

okay....I could.

Okay, another thought--if the camera adds ten pounds, then what does that mean for naked men shots? I mean.....ouch. Yes, the Johnny Depp in a kilt converation did lead to that train of thought. Don't ask me how.

Is there anything that is potentially more satisfying than a late night Doritos and beer fest while online? Not in my book. Of course, my book is not only vastly casual, but developed around things that are bad for me. Allow me to point out for the record that Johnny Depp would NOT be bad for me....kilt or no kilt.

Speaking of which, I don't find the concept of circus dwarves very conducive to erotica at all. Don't toss out such odd things in chat, Lesli and Bibsy. That's just.....gross.

For some reason, the fact that the William Shatner roast is playing as I write this blog and steal these snippets from chat is just way too appropriate. All I have to do to kill my mood is to imagine Captain Kirk in a kilt. Eeeeeeeeeek.

Yeah, so, okay. I'll admit it. I'm fighting the urge to bitch about the anthology, or discuss politics, or go into a football rant. I'm fighting the urge to overwrite another chapter of my curret WIP, and I'm fighting the urge to blog about my horrible holidays. So instead, I'm discovering a way to preserve some of the better chat comments for posterity. So you see, when my fellow DD writers go on about being useless hacks, I was able to say that Porn Hacks are USEFUL hacks and voila! Blog topic.

Florida sucks. Go Vols....beat Penn State. Notre Dame shouldn't show up in the Sugar Bowl. Go Wake Forest! Go Boise State! And if it comes down to a choice between a gator and a nut, I'll pick the nut any day. *grin*

Ohio State 38
Florida 17

Bah Humbug, Humcat, and Humpeople

Here I am after a brief, obligatory holiday absence with probably the worst mood swing I've ever experienced. Whatever happened to "Peace on earth, goodwill towards men?" Did it just bypass my family?

Ack.

Without going into details, allow me to just say that when grandparents can't bring themselves to experience the joy of their grandkids on freaking CHRISTMAS there's something wrong with the equation.

Aside from that, I had a very nice time, thank you. What did I get for Christmas you ask? New deadlines, new cover art, and a new story idea. AHA! There IS a Santa Claus, Virginia! All you DD members get ready: I'm posting the rest of Darkshifters as soon as I get this last bit of editing done and then I have a NEW novel in progress that I am VERY excited about!!!! Mwahahahaha---I only have 19k of it written so far, but whew! *grin* It's quite different.

Okay, okay--all other commentary aside--Happy Holidays from a confirmed old pagan and have a safe and happy new year: oh, and put your money on Ohio State for the national championship. Florida is toast.

*grin*

And no, there are no centaurs in this story.