Promises, Promises

uh-oh. it's time to ponder resolutions again. i loathe this time of year. i always feel like i want to jump off a really steep embankment. i wouldn't die though. i'd probably just twist my head around just so and be forced to stare at my ass for the rest of my life.

Listed in no particular order are all the promises I'll be breaking in 2006:

1. Exercise more

2. Eat better--that's not eat more, that's eat better

3. Submit something, anything, hell, even my name to a damned publisher.

4. Be kinder, i.e. more of a doormat than I already am.

5. Pay off my debts. Just in case that aforementioned mode of death starts looking good.

6. Stick to a daily schedule. Get up at a decent hour and look alive. Queen of the zombies doesn't count.

7. Get in touch with my feminine side. While I am a female, I feel like an impostor most of the time.

8. Keep better house. Seek domestic goddess status instead of poster child for the deadly sin of sloth.

9. Reach out and touch someone. Or someone(s). Make some damn friends.

10. Spread the love. Grow roots. Have a litter. Breed. Multiply. Populate the planet. Save the population.

11. Strive to love myself and accept that I am a total loser weirdo freak nut with a heart of gold.

Pet Peeves

Pet Peeves

1. Rude bitches in SUVs—flip and die going around a sharp curve, you cum-gurgling whores
2. Humidity—I always look like Janis Joplin—after cremation
3. Everything my OCD grandfather does—drums fingers, flicks the seam on his blue jeans, starts and ends every sentence with the same phrase or choice words, breathes. Just kidding…
4. Being teased too much
5. Old men with infant children—hi, daddy-grand-dad
6. Grody laundry mats—do I really want to wear this now that it’s been in there?
7. Loud bassing cars with crap systems—that sounds so good
8. Maudlin women—can’t explain this, just know em when I see em
9. Shitty horror movies with no-talent ass clowns
10. Big budget movies written by no-talent ass clowns
11. Pedestrians that don’t wave, nod or make eye contact when you let them pass and don’t mow them down and snicker when their entrails and major organs dingle-dangle behind you like cans on the bumper of a newlywed car
12. Bad hair days—hell, months, years
13. Insomnia—what day is it?
14. Loud music in stores—to hell with your merchandise, can I buy a frickin’ thought?
15. Yapping dogs—shut up, you little shitters
16. Dogs owners who think their dogs don’t need a leash—you are not She-Ra of the forest
17. Dog owners without leashes
18. Fair-weather fathers—is it Christmas again, already?
19. Step-mothers who think they’re your new mother—what happened to my real one, bitch? (oh yeah, she smoked your husband’s ass)
20. Oil spills—mud baths for defenseless animals?
21. Criminally stupid, twerpy, make-all-Texans-look-bad presidents who think everything they do is a direct order from a God they were told to believe in for more votes
22. Wimpy Democrats who fear George Bush
23. Camera batteries that die on Christmas Eve—die, die, die!
24. Abdominal fat—fuck you!
25. Texas summers—just nuke me and get it over with
26. Men ruled by their dicks
27. Women ruled by their tits—don’t ask me why it isn’t clits
28. The fragility of the human body
29. Dirt in my eyes
30. The price of health insurance
31. That moment in the day when your brain feels like a stale piece of bread
32. That moment in the day when your brain feels like it’s one beep away from braindead
33. The way you feel at dusk everyday—thick, sad, and used up
34. My husband’s crappy office chair that pops and causes it to fall back in the dead quiet and scare the shit out me
35. Questions when I first wake up—I don’t even know who you are and you want to know what my plumber’s name is?
36. A sweat-drenched bra--yuck
37. Heat rash—and knowing you have to put your clothes back on
38. Having to change my underwear in the middle of the day because they’re soaked with sweat
39. Folding fitted sheets—God, if you can hear me, just go ahead and crucify me
40. People without humor
41. People without empathy
42. People without imagination
43. Repeating your words after you say them and not meaning to—told you, I was certifiable
44. Cleaning Venetian blinds
45. Bear hunters—put down the gun and let’s see
46. Men who shoot wolves from helicopters—yeah, that’s some sport
47. Guys who rev their engines to make up for their dick size—it’s not working
48. Rednecks who talk like they’ve had a mild stroke
49. People who shuffle their feet—if you’re that tired, stay home
50. People who scream for someone in the next state
51. Being ugly
52. Me

Post Christmas Eve

Aaahhhhhhh.

The collective sigh of relief in my neck of the woods for the sign that half of the tizzy we call Christmas is over and done for another three hundred and sixty five some odd days. All I can say is--Thank you, magic Jesus. (Nod to the Squidbillies)

I spent the entire week and more to the point, the entire day getting my family ready for Christmas Eve. We got together and nibbled from a buffet of sausage balls, cheese dip, chocolate chip cookies, cherry winks and other gut-busting goodies, washing it all down with punch.

Then the moment we were all waiting for--prezzie time aka when we all sit down and find out what we got each other. I got the latest Richard Laymon, clothes, enough candy to put myself in a year long coma and another Living Dead Doll (among other things), so I'm content. All drama and tragedy aside, we did all right. Despite the future's grim outlook, we all got some nice things.

Now we focus on paying for it.

But the fun is only half over. Tomorrow is the family Christmas feast of ham, potatoes, sweet and plain, macaroni salad, green bean casserole, deviled eggs, Hawaiian bread and goodness knows what else.

Half down, half to go.

Hope you all make out like bandits tonight or tomorrow morning, whichever is your family tradition.

Peace.

Diving In

Deep breath. Diving into the ocean that is fifty thousand again. This time a new story, a new character, a new challenge. I'm four thousand words strong with the shore at my back and no sight of the paradise island called Completion...yet.

OMG

I did it! I did it! I f*&^'g did it!!!!!!
50 thousand words!
Fifty thousand big ones in a month! Whoo-hoo!
Yes! Now I can go die.

Five thousand word crunch

Well I'm in the home stretch of my quest for 50 K. I have until Wednesday to get the final five thousand. Word count validation begins Friday but I don't think I'll have my total by then. I'll probably never do Nanowrimo after this. It's a bad time of year for me. (Despite what others in the forums think.) August would be way better, but no one's asking me. So I'll just shut up and type.

My Portrait

Edvard Munch should paint your portrait. You are a very emotional person. You are always up for a good talk with one of your friends. You don't like to keep things bottled up. Often, you are friendly and outgoing, but that can change very easily to being introverted and cold.

Breaking Fast and Writing Slow

Got up and made breakfast this morning like a good little woman. I even made some for myself. Sat in the office and munched down and actually enjoyed it. Most of the time I'm not a breakfast person.
It's November and the a/c is running. It's 9-freaking-o'-clock in the morning for Christ's sake. Can you say Autumn???
Steadily working on the project known as Happily Ever Aster for Nanowrimo. I'm about to be behind if I don't shift my ass into high gear. Disappointed already that I don't have more submissions to speak of for 2005. I'm still aiming to salvage what is left of the year with perhaps one submission. We'll see.

November is NaNoWriMo

What's NaNoWriMo?
National Novel Writing Month!
Go for it!
Can you write 50K in thirty days?

Halloween

Put on your scare face and go for the throat. It's Halloween. My favorite day of the year.

First Year on Blogger

Wow. One year's worth of commitment. Cool!

The traditional first anniversary gift is paper.

Writing Blahs

There must be something in the air. Everyone's bummed about one thing or another and I don't want to write. I have been doing a lot of organizing and transcribing notes onto disk, but very little real writing.

Rain continues to be a long-forgotten phenonema of the past. I water and shake my head. I get wetter with sweat than the brown grass does with water.

This has been one helluva summer.

And down here in Texas it ain't over yet.

To think there are people somewhere north of me buying wool sweaters.

Computer Virus Pt 2

Is there something in the water?

I had another stomach "thing" for a several days last week and am unsure if I'm over it yet. My husband handed me a couple of cold pills and I begrudgingly took them only to have them work.

Cold pills for a stomach "thing"? Okie-dokie.

At any rate, the whole "thing" has left me in this weird non-creative mood. I am storyboarding but I haven't really written in days and days. My writer group probably thinks I'm a total Frosted Flake. I would have preferred them find that out a little later.

Website

It's alive!

My website that is.

Persephone Jones is on the web.

Check it out.

P.S. It's still under construction.

Computer virus

All this week I've had some yucky virus.

First my mom had it, then my husband, then me, then my grandfather. Nothing like the family sharing a good ol' puke n poop cootie. I've been dehydrated for days, slurping down Powerade and sleeping like Rip Van Winkle.

Worse than that is the undeniable fact that its ruined my momentum. I haven't written anything in days. I'm doodling notes and brainstorming, but as for sitting down, typing words together to form sentences, paragraphs and finally pages is--well, just not happening.

The only good thing to report is that the website is looking better and better all the time. I can't wait to start using it, telling people I'm out there on the web and adding a link to it in my e-mails.

Web Presence

I always thought it was cool when actors or actresses had obvious presence. But writers have to have it on the page.

And with the advent of the internet, they can choose to have it on the web, too. So I had J help me develop a website. So far it rocks. He's doing a great job on it. Anything he does, he rocks.

I can't wait to see it up and running in its entirety.

Groovin'

The writing gods and goddesses have been good to me lately. The only reason why I can figure is that pound of flesh I left at the dermatologist's office when he whittled away at my finger with a razor blade. I guess that qualified as a human sacrifice.

I hardly miss the finger, by the way...

...kidding.

I've kept busy on three short works that have a real shot at being in print. I re-named them and am currently at work on expanding them. The feedback has been positive and couldn't have made me feel better. Joining a critique group was also a good idea. All their criticisms were legit and insightful.

Even better, the trilogy has inspired a spin-off that could be as equally promising.

I'm still vacillating on whether to enter the Siren contest. I don't want to split the trilogy and feel that the editor at Liquid Silver was right about expanding the stories.

I'll probably pass Siren up as well as Liquid's Zodiac contest and just submit them at a later date when they're all they can be rather than squeeze them into strict guidelines and parameters.

Phaze has a September contest I'm considering but the word count limit is 12K. That's awful short but I may shoot for it anyway. Worst I can do is miss.

Bite Me

Feedback is nice. Nice feedback is really nice. And today I got an unexpected bit of nice feedback. Liquid Silver e-mailed me to inform me that while I didn't win the short story contest, that I was in fact a finalist and that she really liked my story "Scorpio Sweetheart" and wants to read more of my work. Sweet!

While on a bit of a high, I sat down immediately and re-read and edited the aforementioned story. Hours later, it was another thousand or so words thicker (but still within the word limit) and worlds better. And it was good before.

Now I'm in the final edit phase of the next short story "Horns a Plenty" for the same publisher. This story is stronger than the first, so I expect to do even better the second time around. But if not, I've got other contests I can enter this month and next month and the month after that.

Somebody's bound to bite.

It's Like a Heat Wave

To borrow a phrase, it's hot. But no hotter than it usually is down here in Hades--I mean Texas. I'm belly button deep in contests. I joined an online support group and haven't posted yet really. I got some good scores on my January submission. With a little polish, I think that sucker will shine. So that's encouraging. And if you knew about my personal life, well--I take what I can get!
Two more contests to enter with one e-publisher then onto another. It's not about the winning at this stage as it is about the feedback. I got confirmation that I'm good. I'll just be a praise junkie for a while and feed off that.

Fever

I have been 'bitten' by the contest bug. Maybe it's the ambitious 'Capricorn' in me, (I'll explain the kooky quotes later) but I have two contests I am entering. It's a good way to give me focus and keep my enthusiasm going.

As far as Blade Dancer goes, I struggled for weeks with it and decided it's not its time. I put it in the tray on my desk and let the whims of creativity steer me in the right direction. I feel good about these contests--well, not exactly good, but...better. And compared to how Blade Dancer was making me feel, I'll take better.

Edit

I finally finished editing the second act of Blade Dancer. I am now onto the third with hopes that the reanimated enthusiasm I had in the beginning of the project will steer me through the first draft. I have so many other projects waiting patiently for perusal.

I will have some writing time this week so my future bodes well for progress. It needs to. I'm really behind.

Insane

Friday the 13th lived up to its name this year. It was horrible. I won't go into specifics except to say that Jason and his machete would have felt right at home in my life.

For a little more reality, my dearest heart goes by the name Jason. And his world, therefore mine, is in a bit of upheaval as of this day. On the eve of a milestone birthday he makes a career move leaving so much of our future up in the air. I'm right there beside him, trying to catch the plates as they come crashing down. We don't say it aloud, but we know one of those plates will fall sooner or later.

The only good thing to come of the 13th was the very pitiful fact that I managed to read over and edit my second act of Blade Dancer. It needs serious work. I am tempted to backspace over that last sentence. It's not that the details are in need of work, but the overall direction of the thing is questionable. And with all the personal stress in my life right now, thinking creatively is extremely challenging.

But the need to purge doesn't let up. I have to find a way to exorcise this damned thing, one way or another. It's either that or go insane...oh, I almost forgot. Already there.

Velveeta Days

A Golden Girl once spoke of a day so bad she wanted to eat Velveeta right out of the box.

Monday was one of those days. It was only appropriate that it was a Monday. I've should have known something was wrong when the shit started on Sunday night.

I won't go into that except to say that when I lay down, I had to get back up and after that was too mad to sleep until well into Monday morning. But I got up at my regular time and stumbled pathetically through the day. I spilled a Coke, re-injured my finger, newly injured another finger, the corner of my towel fell into water twice, various miscellania fell into the floor, I dropped stuff, people called me and when I called them back they weren't there, I fretted over the special ingredients of a recipe only to find I didn't have the basic ingredients, I argued with stupid people, I griped, and cussed under my breath.

Let's hope Tuesday is a little better.

Me, A Name I Call Myself

I have a pen name. It rocks. It's mine. So there. (Raspberries) :)

Second Story Drag

Ug. I can't for the life of me get going on this second story, Blade Dancer.

My little schedule that I created some time ago is shot to Hell. At this pace, I'll die before I've written three books.

There's just something about this one that's bugging me. I printed up the first half some time ago and let it sit while I backtracked and polished up the first project for the contest. Now that number one is pretty much complete, I can focus on number two.

Unfortunately, I lost some much needed momentum. So I got out the printed first half and am going through laborious edits in the hopes that I can reacquaint myself with it. There's things about it I like and probably more I don't like. As usual my hero is trying to steal the show. Bad, bad, bad character!

I keep coming back to anime for inspiration. It was anime that sort of sparked some little piece of motivation in me. Perhaps it's time for some Witch Hunter Robin as first seen on Adult Swim.

Finis

Mark it down in your little book. I'm officially done with my novel Kalynth Sun. Unless someone insists I change a little thing here or there, I am done. Good or bad, it's to bed. Looking back, I've enjoyed writing it but realize that writing a full novel is exhaustive. This is the first novel I've completed that doesn't lack any plot holes or serious structural problems. I am proud of it, but would have liked a different mood to have resulted from it. Something a little darker. I may darken it yet. I just need a few months vacation from it first before I even think about an edit.

SIGH.

Submission Pt. 2

Well, I submitted a sample of my erotic science fiction novel, Kalynth Sun, to Ellora's Cave for a writing contest. I had already sent it in mid-January and I was advised to re-send it so I did. They technically have 120 days to consider it before they have to reply. The 120th day is the eve of the contest deadline. So it works out I guess. I wish I had more to send in to better my chances. I feel pretty good about it. I just hope what I sent was indicative of a compelling story and the judges like my character. I guess we'll find out on when the first of three winners and a finalist is announced on May 22nd.

Wish me luck.

Sonofafloppybitch

This is the last time I use a floppy to store my data. I had an entire manuscript plotted out and four really kick-ass scenes written and tons of notes for all the others. All lost. I could just bite into the faulty little floppy encased in purple plastic and eat the broken pieces! Don't tempt me!
I bought a usb flash memory stick and hope like Hell this never happens again.

April's Fool

If anyone ever reads this blog they'll see that one blog equals one month. I had a serious drought of creativity there for a while. I started a blog and just let it sort of sit there and grow green stuff all over it. Heh. That's sort of funny considering the color scheme of my little blog was green for a while.

I've had a lot on my plate this month. I've battled depression, insomnia, weight problems, creativity droughts, family discord, you name it. At least I had some kick-ass chocolate to console me--courtesy of the large basket-toting rabbit of Easter. (AKA M-o-m.)

At the moment I'm rather peeved at myself for not having something to submit for a writing contest that would be a great opportunity to check my skills and development. I don't have 35K words just sitting in a drawer ready to go. If that were true, they'd already be submitted. All it's going to do is distract me from my work. I feel shitty as it is.

Gggggrrrrrrrr. Time to bite the ears off yet another chocolate bunny.

March of Spring

St. Patrick's day came and went. I didn't even wear green. My excuse--I'm Irish, why wear green? Isn't that overkill?

The wind is up and it's starting to feel great outside. I keep telling myself to enjoy it while I can, for the wonderful triple-digit Texas heat is on its way. Anybody got a pitchfork?

Half way done with Blade Dancer. While it is merely the first draft, I am still happy with my productivity level. I am writing and whether or not it sucks doesn't really worry me. I have a renewed confidence that I am writing good stuff and will eventually know the success of my labors.

I'm even drawing again. I was originally an artist. After sharing creative space with some really arrogant artists, I somehow segued into writing and the sketching fell by the wayside. Well, I purchased some drawing books (Christopher Hart's--he's really good) and pencils. I'm having a good time with it and it's a nice alternative to writing. Now if I could just manage to draw those pesky characters, that would be soooo cool. But I'm only at the cartoon level, no where near real people.

Even better, I have started or rather re-started an exercise regimen. I walk on the treadmill every other day. And walk around the neighborhood on those days in between. I wish I could get back into weights. And swimming. Oh well. Maybe when I'm rich...ha.

Next

I am thinking more and more about a web site and even made some preliminary notes for one. I feel kind of stupid though, not knowing if it would be simply one among a million personal pages that litter the world wide web or an actual author site. I know, vanity kills.

I am busy writing my next novel tenatively entitled Blade Dancer, a futuristic. Where this gust of momentum comes from I know not. I haven't been this motivated to write in--well...ever. I wanted to write, managed to write some but not like this, not with such drive and purpose and direction. I know my destination now. It's cool. The irony is that I laughingly said a few years ago that once my life gets complicated I would probably have too much will to write and suffer for not having enough time whereas before I had no complications and all the time I could ever want and hardly wrote a word. Well, it was prophecy. My life has never been so complicated and yet my creative mind wants to purge itself, birth ideas.

I worked up my schedule for my stories, one draft for every two months. So far, so good. I put all my other ideas away out of sight and kept out the first ten. The oldest five are getting my attention. This way they will be completed, submitted and I finally get closure. I can move on to newer ideas without guilt, without the feeling of leaving something behind.

We'll see if the idea works...

Submission Pt. 1

I finally did it.

Believe it or not, I completed my Sci-Fi erotica novel Kalynth Sun.

I failed in my attempt to complete my novel via NanoWriMo but the damned little group had a purpose--it jarred me into action. I started writing and organizing and planning and thinking. Amazing things happened. I wrote without worry. I laughed and liked a lot of it. Is this the flow? After a couple of weeks, I had a story with a heroine, a conflict, a hero and a villain. I submitted it today and felt total terror as I did so. I spent a few hours in a quasi-state of paralytic shock then snapped out of it and began writing something else. Moving on!

I realize only now that the word 'submission' is very appropriate. I submit to the Fates whether or not my story is to this e-publisher's liking. I have never been this close to my little chunk of The Dream before. Will it break off in my hand and crumble to dust and fall through my fingers in the wind? Will it hold and enable me to get another good grip and pull myself up even higher?

I guess all that remains to be seen. I'll know May 21st. That's 120 days. That little worm in my head named Curiosity has 120 days to wriggle it's way to the forefront of my brain.