I'm a Dork

I've contracted the latest crud that's been going around, and since life goes on in spite of profuse snot, I've had to dose myself up on Day-Quil.

However, I've never had Day-Quil make me feel like Delirium of the Endless.

Whee.

This wouldn't be so bad if I hadn't spent about fifteen minutes insisting that baby donkeys should be called "burritos".

Should I go ahead and write in my current stoopid state? Aw, hell, why not?

(PS: Yeah, we have a German Shepherd mix puppy, and I really shouldn't take advice from him either.)

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates it today!

 And good luck to those of you who are girding your loins in preparation for shopping tomorrow!

Mirror, Mirror Trailer

I wasn't sure what to think when I saw the opening sequence of the trailer -- catchy music. Not fond of the dress Snow White was wearing.

Then Julia Roberts came onto the scene.

Oh, my, yes.

And -- the puppy love thing? Oh, hell yeah.

I am *so* there.

Pornography is Not on My Resume

So, when I first started exploring the world of self-publishing stories electronically, I came across a couple of mentions of how lucrative erotica was. Okay, makes sense. After all, isn't it porn that's moving a lot of our technology forward? Okay, I thought. I can write a dirty story. I'm filthy-minded anyway and I think sex is lots and lots of fun. So I sat down to write a naughty little tale.

And after that first day of writing, I went back to my regularly scheduled torture of fairy tale characters.

That story start has been languising on my hard drive for weeks.

Seriously.

I looked at it once since I wrote it, thought, Yeah, I need to finish that, and went back to writing Fairy Tale Afters.

In a way I'm kinda of disappointed. I sort of wanted to have the word "Pornographer" on my resume. But I'm only disappointed because I like the humor value of calling myself a Pornographer. Think about it -- you're at a dinner party or some other soiree, and someone makes polite interested conversation with you. You might ask them, "So, Mr. Smith, what do you do?" And Mr. Smith might tell you that he's a banker or a doctor or a freelance synchronized swimmer. "And you?" he'll ask, out of reciprocal politeness, or perhaps real interest.

"Oh, I'm a pornographer," you'd reply.

He might be too polite to spit-take because you (of course) timed yourself for when he was taking a sip of his drink because -- come on, who doesn't do that?

"I beg your pardon -- I think I misheard you. Did you say . . . Pornographer?"

And you'd give him a smile -- whether a vulpine grin or a demure one, your choice, and add, "Why yes, your hearing's perfect Mr. Smith; I did say pornographer. It's one of the few industries with stable economic growth, and a great deal of flexibility as well, so I can spend more time with my children."

And of course, Mr. Smith will look you over carefully, trying to figure out where you fit into porn. The naughty boy.

Sadly, such a conversation will never be one I will have, because my dirty little story will most likely remain unfinished. But I think I'm quite all right with that.

Of course, I could lie about being a pornographer, but one should never lie on one's resume.

Fairy Tales on TV, Part II

So, now that I've seen both Grimm and Once Upon a Time . . . well, where shall I start?

I guess I'll start with Grimm, since that was the one I was really waiting for, and subsequently was the one I watched first.

I wanted to like it, wanted to be excited by it. It was the one I waited months for. I can't predict how its run is going to go, not until I watch a few more episodes I think -- there is such potential there, but at the same time, it feels like Just Another Urban Fantasy to me. I liked Aunt Marie, the predecessor Grimm to the main character. Bald, dying, visiting her last living relative to inform him of his legacy. I liked how she went down fighting, and that she was bald, that despite her prognosis, she was still going to do what was necessary.

As for our boy, the new Grimm, I'm not sure how I feel about him. On a certain level, I wondered if he accepted everything too quickly; perhaps a little more time should have been spent with him worrying if he was going daft, seeing things? There wasn't a sense of relief when his aunt appeared with the answers, just an acceptance. Oh, okay, that explains everything. Or maybe I'm just an angsty, dramatic person in general and expect that sort of angsting.

Liked the reformed Blutbad, or however it's spelled. He's a lively fella.

Now -- the very end of the ep -- no spoiler space, here, the episode's been out for a week or so -- we get to see an attempt on his aunt by that pretty blond Hexenwitch our boy saw at the very beginning. She fails, but she flees and makes her report to -- wait a minute, isn't that the police captain? So, I did what I always do when I have a question about a TV show or a movie -- I go to imdb.com and look it up.

To my surprise, I discovered that the captain's name was Renard.

That's what's going to keep my interest in Grimm, I think -- for a little while longer at least.

Because I wanna know why he doesn't see a "true face" for the captain. The implication is interesting.

And as for Once Upon a Time --

wow.

The production values are amazing, especially for a tv show, in my not-so-educated opinion. And the cast -- there were a lot of familiar faces, not just Jennifer Morrison from House, but also Ginnifer Goodwin; Robert Carlyle who played Dr. Rush in SGU; Lee Arendale who's been in a lot of stuff . . . . There's something that's very mythic about OUAT. And in my previous post, I mentioned how, upon seeing the trailer, I wasn't sure about Jennifer Morrison as the lead? I'm an idiot. I take it back. She's awesome in this. In fact, I think that the casting for this show is pretty damn tight. And something else about the casting: I like how none of their actors are over-the-top gorgeous or too pretty for real life. There's something very real about them, and I think it helps ground that mythic quality of the show. You know how sometimes you'll watch a show, and, for example, all the girls seem to be of a type? You know, as if the casting director had a type? Not here. It's a fantabulous world, peopled with interesting people, and I can't wait to watch the next episode (when I have time . . . yeah).

I especially like the reversal of Snow White and Prince Charming.

So, I'll definitely continue to watch both these shows, though to the producers of Grimm -- you've got an awesome premise -- please, oh please deliver!

Fairy Tales on TV

I must admit -- for more than a decade television fell by the wayside for me; the broadcast schedules were not conducive to my schedule. Books were easier and portable entertainment, and rented (or bought!) DVDs convenient to my schedule. Regular TV watching didn't occur in my life until a couple of years ago, when I discovered places online where I could watch episodes of current or not-so-current shows. As a result of this spectacular flexibility, I almost never watch an episode of a show the first night it comes out, and sometimes not even the first week. This means I only just now caught a couple of this fall's new shows, Once Upon a Time and Grimm.

Of course I'd have to watch a couple of TV shows based on fairy tales. I've only been waiting for them since I saw the previews back, um, in the recent past. Probably summer. I dunno, I've slept since then.

My impressions of te previews -- well. Let's start with Grimm, since that was the one I was looking forward to.

First of all, I really liked the concept. Not a new concept, really, but all the same, it was one I knew I'd enjoy, and I couldn't wait to see how they handled it. Part of the anticipation for me was because David Greenwalt was one of the executive producers, and he worked on Angel. However, despite my excitement, I wasn't really enamored by the previews. You know how sometimes someone can put together a really awesome trailer and the actual show is pretty lame? Well, the trailer, despite pitching some interesting concepts and an intriguing (to me) character (the bald aunt, the previous Grimm), the trailer just didn't really blow my skirt up. I was especially disappointed when, during the trailer, we got to see the lead character rescue the missing girl. Um, yeah, okay, granted, the likelihood that he'd rescue her was high, but did you really have to show that in the trailer?

Still, my interest was piqued, and I waited patiently for Grimm to come out.

Then there was the trailer for Once Upon a Time -- an intriguing concept, of how the Wicked Queen stole everyone's happy endings and deposited them here, in our world, to live in abject misery, and their only hope is a woman with a mysterious past who's drawn into this strange town by a mysterious little boy. Wicked cool concept, but I wasn't sure it would work in a television show. A movie? certainly. A miniseries? Hell, yeah! A television show? You know, something that could be cancelled and leave us all hanging? Are you people nuts? And further, while I was intrigued by the inclusion of Robert Carlyle (I loved to hate him in Stargate: Universe), I wondered at the casting of Jennifer Morrison (Cameron from House) as the lead character. Don't get me wrong -- she's an awesome actress, and I loved her on House. From the trailer, I could see that it had high production values, but even so, I wasn't sure whether it would succeed.

So, I waited for OUAT as well.

Next: my impressions of the first episodes of both shows.

Sorry for the Delay --

-- but my second story, "Ashes", is going to be pushed back.

But then again, I think I'm the only one who reads this blog anyway! :p

I'll keep you updated.

A Review!

Okay, I got my first review. I admit it -- I clapped and giggled and bounced around and sprained something. Even the dog looked at me like I was a dork, and considering he's a rather not-to-bright puppy, that's a special kind of censure.

Mood: giddy.

Wordle Wordle, I love you

Because I love to play with words, and I love pretty pictures, and how is this not awesome?

I suppose it's very self-involved of me to paste in my own story just to see what came up, but I did, and here's the results. Words that are large were used a lot, versus ones that came up small. I was very surprised that "Sulineis" came up as huge as it did -- my beta reader actually scolded me for not giving the characters names at all, so I had to go back in and insert names. And Sulineis came in so huge, about as big as the word "water" I think.

No, nothing really of import here. Just passing along the goofiness.

Sondheim is my Patron Saint, and Thalia my Muse

I'm a funny person. It's not even a matter of thinking I'm funny -- I know I'm funny. I have a great sense of humor. I won't go so far as to say I'm a master of comedic timing (I'm not!) but previous to my career as an old lady, I was a theatre major. I've done comedies. Neil Simon especially. I'm also fond of Shakespeare. Shaw. Moliere. Granted, I've never performed Shakespeare or Shaw or Moliere, even back in high school, but we did our share of comedies. Our drama teacher had a penchant for them.

I started out trying to write a comic piece, after "The Grieving Mermaid" and "Ashes", which were quite dark. And concurrently writing "Worn Soles," which is still percolating along on the hard drive. Since "Soles" was going to be so dark -- again! -- I thought I'd try countering it all with a bit of light comedy. Something about 5,000 words long and funny. Joke's on me, thank you Thalia. That little comic short has hit 8,000 words and no end in sight. I can barely see the half-way mark. And it's got funny bits, but it isn't a comedy. What the hell happened?

And another thing too: I started writing the Fairy Tale Afters as a way to explore what happened after the "happily-ever-after-THE-END!" in fairy tales. Instead, what started out as a passage of backstory has swelled, uncontrollably, to pre-story, and I'm now edging into during-story. What happened to after-story?

I blame my characters. They talk too much. Because it really isn't my fault. Honest. The bastards.

So right now, I'm faced with the choice of:
      (1) stopping what I'm doing and starting all over again,
      (2) finishing what I've got and lopping off huge chunks of it to try to make it a short funny, or
      (3) finishing what I've got and THEN starting all over again.

That last option seems most likely, because I'm kind of fond of the characters and the situation, and I kind of want to see what they'll do. But then I'll have two stories, on nearly the same subject matter and quite possibly the same characters.

This is the part where I cuss and cuss and cuss.

Yeah, comedy tonight, baby.

Smashwords Learning Experiences

Things I have learned when uploading my book to Smashwords

*It's really pretty easy. Just follow their little guide on formatting, and that's a piece of cake -- but then, I'm not putting in all sorts of pictures and diagrams and lists and weird formats . . .

*That little blurb they ask you for? it's shapeless. My blurb that I created for Grieving Mermaid depends on a sense of visual timing that occurs with the proper formatting, as follows:

Once upon a time, a little mermaid fell in love with a landsman prince. Through great trials and tribulations, she traded her voice for legs and went forth to make the prince fall in love with her.


She died.


And her family misses her very much. So much, in fact, that they're willing to make their own dark deal for her life.


A short story of what takes place after the fairy tale.


However, even when entered as above with the lovely little line breaks, the whole text gets compressed into a single little paragraph. Had I known this, I would have altered my blurb.

*Also on the blurb: 400 characters. I didn't know that beforehand. Now I do, and can anticipate for it.

*Again, on the blurb: I recall reading somewhere that the front page is a great place to put a little summary so that people who've bought your book but haven't read it yet can recall what it's about. After all, it isn't as if you can flip the durn thing over and read the back. As a matter of fact, this is frequently done in YA books printed for an American audience: if you look at the copyright page of a YA book, you may find a section on The Library of Congress. In that section, there's a Summary of the book, and I think they tend to be one sentence long? Anyway, I have a copy of Sabriel by Garth Nix close to hand (highly recommended if you haven't read it) and its summary states: "Sabriel, daughter of the Necromancer Abhorsen, must journey into the mysterious and magical Old Kingdom to rescue her father from the Land of the Dead." Succinct, no? and accurate. Just a little refinement to consider.

I'll certainly be keeping all this in mind when I do it all over again later this month!

Monday, Sweet Monday. The Bastard.

Oh. It's Monday. I've decided that I should post here every Monday and Thursday. The theory behind that is that I'd have all weekend to come up with something to write. And here it is, Monday. Um, didn't write anything bloggy-related over the weekend. Yay?

So, it's Monday, rather like Manic Monday, except it seems that this particular Monday is ubiquitous in its bastardry. I thought it was just me! I suppose I could whine about the litany of how rough my Monday was, starting with having to rescue my roommate from a pack of aggressive dogs, nearly getting into a car accident on the way back. and coming home -- finally! -- to make a pot of coffee, because coffee is the life.

Coffee pot was broken. Lucky I had a French Press; lucky my roommate was able to get a hold of me, lucky that my ride didn't break down, lucky that I was going slow enough around the corner to not hit or get hit by the truck coming down that way . . . So many things that could have gone wrong if one small factor had changed. I mean, really -- if I hadn't had the French Press? I'd've been SCREWED. Seriously -- if I want a decent cup of coffee 'round here, I have to make it myself. It's half an hour to the nearest Starbuck's.

But then I heard about some of the crap my nearest and dearest had to contend with this Monday: A car that didn't start; the news that it isn't pre-eclampsia, but it's the crap that's going around and it's driving her blood pressure up; a myriad of things that make me think about how fortunate I am.

I guess that's why I write fiction. Schadenfreude. Sort of. I have to feel Schadenfreude about something, and it really isn't cool to rejoice in other people's misery, so I have to make up people who are miserable just so I can giggle about it, guilt-free.

Now it's time for me to get back to my coffee -- I got Almond Joy flavored creamer for it, and it requires my attention.

(Okay, now I have to figure out what I'm gonna say on Thursday . . . let's hope it's not as exciting as today was!)

Cinderella, Dressed in Moolah

I subscribe to far, far too many blogs/websites/timesuckers in my RSS feed. Sometime I cull them; most of the time I lose time in them. Some of them are what I call "industry-specific" -- blogs I read because they're pertinent to writing and publishing. Some of them are blogs that feed particular areas of interest for me, feeding my soul, so to speak. And then there's kottke, which linked post featured a nifty little video, Vonnegut on the shape of stories.

I loved that last little bit, where he's illustrating that third story type, which we all know and recognize as Cinderella. How many different cultures have a Cinderella story? I remember watching Saturday morning cartoons, and one of those shows that adapts children's books into a TV episode (or two) had one based on a Chinese Cinderella. I remember being very amazed that there was a Chinese version of Cinderella, and thought it was way too cool, and I think that was my first introduction to how related we all are through stories (yes, I have Campbell on my shelf, two feet from me, in my "to-read" pile). But I digress. What I thought was interesting was where Vonnegut says, at one point, it'll make you a million bucks.

He's right. Look at Harry Potter. If that isn't something of a Cinderella story . . . .

Think about it. Kid loses his parents, is orphaned, and ends up a virutal slave to the family he does end up with. Granted, the Dursleys aren't a stepfamily, but I don't think that really mattered to poor Harry, not while he's scrubbing the floor. Granted, he wasn't sleeping in a bed of cinders, but I don't think the Aga has one of those, so off to the cupboard with you.

I suppose I could go on and point out all the corollaries between Harry Potter and Cinderella, but except for pointing out Hagrid as Fairy Godmother (can anyone else see Hagrid singing, "Bippity-Bobbity Boo"?), that's probably not necessary. But I will point out how Ms. Rowling did make a gajillion bucks with that little Cinderella story of hers. So when I watched that Vonnegut video and thought about Rowling and Cinderella, I wondered if I should make a go of writing a Cinderella story. Except I already wrote one, and it's not so much a Cinderella story as it is a story about what happened after the events of "Cinderella". Honestly, I don't think I have an honest-to-goodness Cinderella story in me, so I'll have to make do with "Ashes", which will be out soon.

(Okay, and you know what should have been in the NEWT level exams? transforming mice into thestrals. That would have been awesome.)

"The Grieving Mermaid" is up!

Yay! I have my first story published at Smashwords, and arriving soon at Amazon and at Barnes and Noble!

Here's what the cover looks like:

(purdy cover by Pat Hemmert) 

 What it's about: mermaids! because "The Little Mermaid" was one of my favorite stories growing up.

Okay, seriously, it's about the hole left in the lives of the people who survive a loved one's death, and how they cope with it. Wow, that sounds like it could be anything, so specifically it's about the hole left in the lives of the survivors of the "Little Mermaid" fairy tale. Not the Disney version. It took me years before I was willing to see the Disney version because I knew she'd survive in the end. Disney's not exactly famous for maudlin endings. Good music, though. Anyway, the two people most impacted by the Little Mermaid's death get to meet, and grief has influenced them in two different ways.

"The Grieving Mermaid" is the first in a series of short stories that explores what happens after the "happily ever after" of fairy tales. Some of the stories examine the fates of the protagonists; others deal with peripheral characters.

 I had a great time writing "The Grieving Mermaid"! And I hope everyone who reads it finds it enjoyable!

My next short story is forthcoming, and should be out in a few weeks, barring the unforseen. "Ashes" deals with the aftermath of the Cinderella fairy tale, specifically with the fates of Cinderella's wicked stepfamily. It really isn't a nice story, but I really like it as a story. I wonder what that says about me as a writer?

ETA: I uploaded it to Amazon.com and they sent me a notification that I forgot to put the author name on it. Doh!

Titles

Titles are kind of hard. Sometimes they come up easily, and I don't have to give it a second thought. Then there's something like Twelfth, which after weeks of writing and thinking, I think I might have a real title for it. And there's the story I refer to as LM, which I'll be releasing to all the usual self-publishing places when the cover comes back to me, which will be as soon as I come up with a title. It's had four different titles. It's a frigging short story, for crying out loud. Then there's the novella I'm currently working on which had its title well before I set the first word down. How nice is that?

So, the actual title for Twelfth? "Worn Soles" -- but I still need a title for LM! I'm stuck between"The Grieving Mermaid" or "The Mermaid and the Landsman Prince" which kinda sounda a bit too romance novelly:

She was a mermaid, princess of a people who dwelled beneath the waves.

He was a landsman prince, scion of a seaside kingdom and sailor of the ocean's surface.

And one day, they meet, and must find an answer to the question: if a mermaid and a landsman fall in love, where do they make their home?


However, that's not what my story's about. In my story, he's a married guy, and she's kind of, um, crazy. And they don't get together. I actually LIKE the title "The Mermaid and the Landsman Prince" but it just doesn't work for my story. (bummer.)

But LM will be coming out soon. Maybe then I'll quit hyperventilating. And it'll probably be called "The Grieving Mermaid".

(But I still refer to "Worn Soles" as Twelfth.)

Resistance

Steven Pressfield has it right. Resistance is a bitch. Bitchier than me first thing in the morning before coffee during that time of the month.

A friend recommended The War of Art to me some while ago, and I just found my copy and was flipping through it. Yeah, I don't have the fun Resistance where one uses sex to get out of creative endeavors. Right now, Resistance is taking the form of Linux, the hussy, which I normally wouldn't give a second glance to not because of the quality of the OS (because it's been a fun fling! If only I knew what to do with it!) but because I generally have too much on my plate to add a whole new way of working on my computer and learn a new vocabulary besides. And what's worse? Linux, the hussy, has all these pretty pretty little distributions, so it's a bit like having a lover who dresses up in a different role every night. Last week it was Puppy, a few days ago it was Ubuntu, now it's Puredyne, but my head is getting turned by Mint. Or Chakra. Or openSUSE.

Oh, god, I'm a harlot.

Anyway, because of my infidelities with Linux, my writing has stalled, and nothing has gone forward. I got LM back from my beta weeks ago and am just now working on the corrections. I still have to get the cover done for it. I've already gotten "Ashes" back, and have yet to dive into those corrections. And the current story I'm writing, which has the working title of "Twelfth" has languished on my hard drive, patiently awaiting my infidelity to run its course.

But I'm back on track, now. Until something else turns my head of course. Which it won't, 'cause completely reformed, that's me. Um. As soon as I download Mint. Or maybe openSUSE.

Beta Readers

I think that "beta" should be spelled "betta" and that my beta readers should become betta readers. This probably means that I'm easily amused. If I put a mirror in front of a betta reader, do they stop reading and start attacking their reflection? Perhaps they're better off as "beta" reader. Although it makes me wonder about alpha readers, and whether there are any omega readers, or anyone who are chi rho readers. 

I've been fortunate in my choice of first readers. They're astute, and wonderful, and aren't afraid to tell me off. Usually with big huge red pen marks, because that's the kind of awesome they are.

Hm, probably a good thing they aren't betta readers; hard to wield red pen underwater. But still, very pretty.

A Bit About Me

I'm a writer living in north Texas. My hobbies include the Three Rs from grade school, except that aRithmetic has been booted, leaving only Reading and wRiting behind. There is currently a Rutabaga holding the position of the third R, but we all know it's just a place-holder until something more suitable comes along.

I enjoy knitting and tinkering around with things, neither of which are R enough to make it into the Three Rs. And before anyone thinks that tinkering = mechanically inclined, allow me to clarify: that means I burn my fingers with a hot glue gun on occasion, or that I figure things out with my knitting, or I poke something and ask, "Oh, what does this do?" before being hurriedly led away by concerned friends.

I'm married to a wonderful man who should be elevated to sainthood for his patience with me, except hopefully without the martyring because martyrdom doesn't sound like a whole lot of fun. We currently live in a multi-family domestic co-op, which sounds a great deal like a sitcom waiting to happen. Thankfully, it isn't because we all know it would be more fun to be in a space opera. Or anything starring Nathan Fillion.

My favorite writers include the trifecta of Gaiman, de Lint, and Tolkein (admission: I've only read The Hobbit and LotR. I will probably never read The Silmarillion, nor any of the Lost Tales, nor Children of Hurin). Other favorites include Peter S. Beagle's The Last Unicorn (and let's not forget "Two Hearts"!); the Abhorsen books by Garth Nix, the David Sullivan books by Tom Deitz, and Robin McKinley's Damar books. I enjoy short stories a great deal; there is something very satisfying about the short form, and my idea of a fun weekend involves coffee and an anthology.

Once upon a time I was a theatre major. Now I'm just someone with aspirations to be a professional student, but somehow I don't think that comes with dental and 401K. (And before you say that actors/theatre people don't have benefits, Actor's Equity offers benefits.)

'Nuff said; back to writing.

Here's What's Going on in my Head

Still trying to get comfortable in my skin, exposing myself with blogging. Not quite pulling one's shirt open, which one should never do in polite company. But as a writer, one performs actions that are the equivalent of, well, opening up one's ribcage to show off the inner workings. Exposing yourself. Here I am, and here's what's going on inside me. In my head. In my heart.

It's more than a little frightening. Actually, exposing myself via my stories doesn't scare me. Much. I wanted to be a writer when I was younger, much younger, and after abandoning it, I've come back, and it's like slipping into an old, broken-in pair of comfie jeans. Oh, hello, yes, I remember how well you fit now and I was daft to leave you behind.

But this blogging is another thing entirely. I'm not protected by the thin scrim of fiction, by fantastic settings, nor do I have interesting characters and thrilling circumstances as a buffer betwixt me and the rest of the world. My life is boring. I don't DO anything of interest, which I think is the reason why I have been Twitter-resistant. I mean, who wants to hear about me waking up and waxing rhapsodic over my coffee? Hell, I do that every morning and I don't want to hear it. Nor, I think, does anyone want to hear about whether I'm having a ham sandwich or a turkey sandwich for lunch. My sandwiches are quite boring as well. Lunchmeat on whole wheat bread, with mayo and lettuce, for those who are curious about the jejeune details.

But blogging -- that's considerably more than 140 characters. What the ruddy hell do I write about? "I wrote about 3,000 words today, and revised a chapter of my novel; what the hell was I thinking when I wrote it?"

Now that I'm through whinging about blog content, here's some actual content, and I guess it's indicative of what I'm afraid of: I'm working on a story that bears the working title "Twelfth". During the writing, something came up, figuratively as well as in-the-story-literally. Does that make sense? In the narrative, something came bubbling up, so I suppose that makes it in-the-story-literal. It's a pretty icky thing to write or even say, and I almost hesitated in its inclusion, but I really have to stay true to the story, to the character in question . . . and anyway, I really hate dead baby jokes. (No, that's not a non-sequitur; it relates.) But anyway, when I write things like that, I wonder if I need to put disclaimers all over my writing, like "Really Awful Stuff Happens! Do not read if you're sensitive!" But I think I'm sensitive, and I rather like reading awful stuff happening. Sort of. But that's the worry that's been percolating in the back of my brains.

Oh, goodness, I'm probably going to have to figure out what to do about hate mail. I've still got time, right?

Blog Fodder

I haven't figured out how often to update this blog, nor have I quite found a "voice" for it. All I do know is that I'd rather keep it about my writing, so I'm very disinclined to post anything personal. This means:

*no posts on marital problems, nor posts on lack of marital problems (unless the husband does something super-spectacular-awesome that I really have to share with my closest seven million friends! RIGHT NOW!)

* no bitching about my nearest and dearest

* and very minimal medical stuff only as it's germane to my writing (example: my typing hand fell off and doctors have advised me to learn to type with my toes as I recover; as a result updates and story output will be slow), as opposed to stuff that isn't germane (example: someone stole my legs and left me in a hotel bathtub filled with ice; however writing not impacted because I can still type. But if you see a pair of stunning, long, tanned and toned legs, they're, um, mine).

*Politics, religion and other hot-button issues. Because there are other blogs that cater to those things, and my political affiliation/religious affiliation/stance on <fill in the blank> are outside the scope of this blog.

So, that leaves remarks about:

*the weather. Weather's fairly safe topic. And possibly germane to my writing (example: Tornado came by; computer currently in Oz. Must go on quest to retrieve it. No longer have legs for silver slippers, as my statuesque gams were replaced by serviceable set with big thighs, so need to find silver galoshes that fit calves.)

* My imaginary friends, unless they do something upsetting, as I don't want this to become a bitch platform (don't you hate when your imaginary friends are assholes?).

*Anything to do with writing and self-publishing, in general or in specific.

*Anything that I enjoyed reading and would like to share. 'Cos storytellers are also storyDEVOURERS.

In conclusion, we'll have to see how this evolves. All these guidelines I've put down today may be tossed out by this time next year. I think I've kept it fairly open and set some good boundaries; only time will tell though.

Poppin' the Cherry

Blah blah blah bla-blah blah blah. Blah.

There, it's done. The first post to my blog. Now it isn't scary anymore. It's a bit weird to me anyway, to write without an audience in mind. Very shortly I'll be publishing some of my fiction, and if all goes well, someone will buy it and like it and come looking for me here, where I will proceed to present myself as a babbling git. Hello! Welcome! And I hope that my having cottage cheese for brains doesn't upset you!

I've kept journals and the like, but I write those with no audience in mind (I mean really, who wants to hear me complain? I'm a whiner!). The stories I write with an audience in mind -- an audience who seeks to be entertained by my literary prestidigitations, such as they are.

And then there's this blog, where you discover that the spectacular, larger-than-life, drop-dead diva onstage . . . is actually a rather tired-looking, plain and unspectacular woman who kind of blends into the woodwork. Not that I'm calling me or my writing spectacular or diva-licious -- it's more like the stories are "onstage" and this blog is me in a shared dressing room with discarded bits of costume and used pots of Ben Nye make-up.

But here I am, and here's the place you can learn a bit more about me and my writing -- it sounds weird for me to write this to a non-existant ubiquitous "you". There's no audience yet, just a story waiting for a cover, another at the beta, and a third in progress. I guess this post is so I can pop the blog's cherry and not worry too much about what I'm going to write about and why.

And if you're one of those future readers (as of this writing), well, here I am, there I are, and please wish me luck on my writing career, if you would be so kind!

Thank you for stopping by!