Fiona McVie at Author Interviews did an interview with me. I chat about music, writing, books, and some other stuff.
I am thrilled to announce that I am one of the “Fourteen,” the authors in the first anthology from New England Speculative Writers.
This sff antho is going to kick some fictional and robotic butt. A kickstarter campaign has been set to help get the book launched. In something like a week, we’re at 87 percent of our goal.
Please support if you can!
So, I’m on a writing spree in a beach hotel.
I come home Friday after happy hour, all happy and whatnot, only to find out that the electric company cut me off. I was two days late. TWO DAYS. And I didn’t have an old balance or anything; I had paid my last bill in full less than a month ago. I paid immediately. But, in a flex of the ‘we-are-machine-and-you-are-weak-and-helpless-pitiful-mortal-workerbee’ muscle, they don’t reconnect on weekends.
My thought process went something like this:
Brain:!@&#$^&@^! Ok, think. Too late to sort out tonight so just deal with it. Tomorrow you’re booked anyway … stay out really late? Go to Mom’s? Stay with a friend?
Muse: It’s off season. And you need to finish Seas anyway. Full moon. SUPERMOON. You are much overdue for some night beach moonbathing.
Brain: Indian Rocks.
View from my WIP is something like this:
My bff used to manage a condo out here, and she was able to use it when it wasn’t booked. We used to get to stay at the beach house free for weeks. Then the bubble burst, and now we have to pay for the view. A night here and there isn’t the same. I’ve really missed this strip. I love IRB.
This definitely falls under the blessings in disguise category. I’ve been working on an ocean themed collection for a few years. I don’t mean I’ve only been doing that. I do a pass, leave it for a while, come back, do another pass, leave it for a while. That sorta thing. I’ve holed up for days on end with laptop or notebook while Netflixing every ocean-related doc I could find, and then not touched it again for months. It’s pretty close to done, but I have always wanted to hole up in a beach hotel and just work on it with the sound of the waves. I don’t think I could have considered the collection done if I hadn’t done this. It’s as if I wanted to give the ocean a chance to offer input.
I walked down the beach last night and found a perfect circle in the sand. Sat down for a while under the supermoon. Got some equilibrium back. Oh, and about 5 more poems, including one creepy snippet that might actually be a story. Not sure yet.
Sometimes writing isn’t about following the writing rules. Sometimes it goes far deeper than that. At least for me.
There is a secret language spoken here
The voice of the mother whispers in wind and waves
Now I just need to convince the Arabs running this place to let me check out late. Assuming the elevator doesn’t kill me. (It looks and smells like it was made in 1972.) I guess after I head home I’ll take a leisurely lunch in one of the cute little seaside cafes, go check on the kitty just in case she got through the ten million water dishes I left her, then probably take the laptop to Starbucks or B&N for a few hours. I prefer writing in solitude but whatever. I guess I’ll be coffee shop writer girl for a day. I have one rough night to get through, and my power will be back on tomorrow.
Note of grr: Some idiots were out there with flashlights despite the fact that there are signs EVERYWHERE about it being turtle hatching season and to keep the shoreline dark.
Today’s prompt was unlove.
Unloving is not always a choice
But a path taken
Cannot unspeak words
Or unmake memories
Undo moments or reasons or time
But reflections shrink in the rear view mirror
Grow smaller and then vanish behind newer days
Things fade from view before they fade from memory
There’s a place in the silent hours for thoughts of lovers left behind
Where words shouted and words murmured wait to be recalled
But there’s nothing to be gained there
Trust can never be unbroken
The past cannot be undone
You’re nothing but words to me now
We cannot be unwritten
but only erased
Hatred is not an option
It echoes too loud
And it binds just as tight, in the end
Unloving is not a choice
But a matter of growth
Untangling ties that bind
We are all ruled by change
I choose my tomorrow over your yesterday
And I am stronger for that
I pretty much abandoned my livejournal blog in 2012. No particular reason; I just didn’t feel like blogging. Recently a spam comment led me back to an old lj post where I was ruminating about blogging and why I started one in the first place. Reading it made me realize why I lost interest. I approached that blog as more of a diary. Problem with that is I’m really not comfortable sharing personal thoughts publicly. I’m an introvert, and I’m actually very shy, unless I am drinking or just happen to click with someone. So I never really got comfortable blogging in diary-mode, and probably never will. On the other hand, I’m quite happy to babble on publicly about writing, Tard Cat, trees, movies, books, horses, history, the world, etc. Writers write, after all.
Hence the new blog. Or, revamped blog, I should say.
I chose the cover pic the same way I make a lot of decisions, even and especially major ones … intuitively. I’ve held various animals as symbolic totems throughout my life. Lions, horses, wolves, orcas, owls. The list keeps growing. Lately crows and ravens fascinate me. They represent so many different things … Trickster God, the carrion bird, the omen … there are layers and layers of symbolism there to dig into. Most of the connotations are dark. Doomy. And yet the raven might just be the silliest bird on the planet.
We’re all multi-faceted.
Today the interwebs are buzzing with people making declarations about how they are going to improve themselves this year. Lose weight, spend more time with loved ones, climb the mountain, run an eight minute mile. That’s great, though I think one should always strive to grow, and not limit thoughts of self-improvement to one holiday. But a leopard doesn’t change its spots. No point trying to force yourself to be something you’re not. I’m an introvert and probably always will be. But I’m also a writer, and I’m thinking it’s time to stretch the wings a bit.
I’m starting out 2013 with publishing news, for once. I have a short story coming out in Once Upon An Apocalypse, and a poem in Eternal Haunted Summer. Hopefully more announcements to follow soon. My writing life thus far has been focused on learning the craft and, well, writing. I’ve been building this massive backlog, but I’ve put very little effort into actually publishing much of it. This year I plan to focus more on putting my words out there.
So, my resolution is to keep this blog updated, and, keep the content less personal but hopefully at least somewhat interesting. Or at the very least, repost really cool pics and links to interesting articles.