The State of Me

This is the combo vanity/writing desk I bought from Ikea earlier this year. It amuses me that a Swedish company made it in Portugal and that it was ultimately assembled (poorly) in the U.S. by a chick of Portuguese decent (moi). Gave it a brisk neatening just a little while ago, as a hot mess of crap and dust and whatnot littered it. In addition to the requisite lamp and writing utensils I've plopped down some items meant to inspire me (star-shaped clock for a wanna-be superstar; a framed note from a fan--which does touch me every time I see it; a pic of me as a little girl before I'd learned to fear life).

I've been mainly using the vanity aspect of this thing, to help me ready my carcass for my day job and because I'm vain. Maybe I'll use it for writing in 2018. I'm using it right now to tap out this post so that's a good sign...?

Getting up in the mornings is harder and harder. I'm angry all the time; like, I simmer and surge with the slightest provocation but internalize everything because I don't want to hurt anyone though I don't seem to mind destroying myself. So many times I've bit my metaphorical tongue to keep from ranting out a blog post on stupid shit--though I am pretty fucking tired of people and their "I was laying down" bullshit. Unless you were setting a motherfucking table for dinner you were not laying down, you were in fact LYING down, God damn it. See what I mean? It's stupid shit and I get riled up by it and who knows if ranting out a blog post on the reg wouldn't be better than nuking my innards by holding back but I'm embarrassed to reveal my ick so I simmer.

I know what it means, that stupid shit's getting my goat--it means I feel that life is completely beyond my control. It means I feel I'm battering my head against an impenetrable wall of NO and that I'll never reach my full potential as a human and will never, ever know true comfort or joy, because I'm simply not meant to.

The drugs don't work. Or if they do, they just keep me from a final slide down to God knows what, because mostly I just feel like I'm in a fog. I'm cloudy-headed, numb, anxious, despairing. I think of death and mortality every day. I'm the living dead. I'm not suicidal--I'm far too Catholic and, frankly, cowardly for that. Besides, I seem to prefer a slow death by tobacco, sugar, and hope.

I should note that I've been off work for the past week and off my routine; I've forgotten to take my antidepressants more often than not and, moreover, am getting my period, so I'm feeling especially dark today. But all of this is still perfectly true. And skipping the meds, though inadvertent, doesn't really seem to have made things any worse so I may just go off the stuff. I mean, maybe.

This year I hid my birthday on Facebook and no one there hailed me on my so-called special day. That was the desired outcome--dozens of people wishing me hyperbolic happiness is a burden that has made me break down in tears in recent years. You'd think I'd be cheered but each wish weighs on me more heavily than the last because I can't live up to any of them. A few folks reached out to me in other ways, and that I could take. But nothing more. I'm even disabling comments for this post because I can't bear anyone's hopes/wishes/expectations. Emotionally I'm a 3rd degree burn victim and the slightest brush, of anything, feels awful. I'm just posting because the lid on my seething pot of angst finally shifted a little--the words needed to go out but I don't need or want any in return.

So that's the state of me as the last grains of 2017 scurry down the hourglass. May 2018 be better, God willing.

A Two-fer: A Writerly Type Blog Hop & A Review

One of my good bloggy friends, Allyson Lindt, tagged me in a hop AND I've just finished reading her most recent contemporary romance, so for today's post I'm offering a two-fer-the-price-of-one. (Not that I'm charging y'all to read this, or anything, but you know what I mean...) So first, let's go to—

The Hop!

For this writerly-type hop, authors who've been tagged answer a buncha questions, then tag 3 of their fellow writers to do the same. (There's always a catch.) The questions are as follows:

What are you working on right now?
'Cause I'm pressed for time (and lazy), I'm gonna rip off the answer I gave in an interview I did earlier this month, with one of the gals I'm tagging for this Hop:

A mini-anthology of three short stories, as I want to show my more “modern voice.” In terms of fiction, my readers will have come to know the “Homer meets Jane Austen” voice I used in That Fatal Kiss, so I want folks to know I’m not a one-trick pony. Two of the shorts are paranormal/supernatural stories set in the present, and the third tale will follow Hades and Persephone as they settle into married life (with all the horrors that entails).

How does it differ from other works in its genre?
Well, I claim to be an author of "dark and whimsical romance." While there's plenty of paranormal stuff out there, even funny paranormal (MaryJanice Davidson & Katie MacAlister are two of my fave writers), my particular brand of whimsy has an especially sophisticated edge to it. I like to think so, anyway. (Be a lamb and don't shatter my delusions, if you disagree.) (Better still, don't disagree; it's not nice to contradict a Goth Mom.)

Why do you write what you do?
Oh, why the hell not? J/K. In her answer to this question, Allyson said she writes about what she wants to read: characters "living" in her world. I write about the world in which I'd like to live: one filled with magic. Also, I'm getting a little tired of the preponderance of nubile virgin chicks in the 21st century of romance fiction. C'mon, folks—in the 21st century??!?!!?! I want to read about middle-aged gals, like me, who've been around the block a few times, stalled, and eventually got their motors running again. (I'm hoping that last bit comes to pass for me sooner, rather than later.)

How does your writing process work?
When it's working, with lots of coffee. Formerly, with cigarettes, too, but I've been off them for a little over two months now. (Yay, me!) Uh...I like to write at night, possibly because when The Kid was little, that's the only time I had to write. I usually write a first draft long-hand, then typing it out becomes the second draft, though I've also written first drafts on my laptop (which I find both exhilarating and terrifying).

Writerly-friends, I tag YOU:

Samantha Redstreake Geary

Yolanda Renée

Priscilla Shay

And now...

THE REVIEW!

TOEING THE LINE is #2 in Allyson's Bits & Bytes series (though actually, a prequel makes this the 3rd book, technically). Here's the gist of it:

Zane’s time in the Air Force doing electronic surveillance has taught him a thing or two about keeping secrets. But when his best friend, Riley, finds out what he’s kept from her, their “friends with benefits” relationship won’t be what threatens their growing feelings for each other.

Riley tends to fall hard and fast for the guys she dates, and it never ends with the wedding bells she expects. Tired of the heartbreak and unsure if she even knows what love is, she swears off unreliable things like dating and trying to find that elusive happily-ever-after spark. Focusing on her art seems like the perfect distraction, except she’s missing the physical side of being half a couple. Fortunately, her best friend, Zane, is happy to model for her drawings and tie her up in the bedroom, with no expectations. Just fun.

Zane’s granddad raised him with the belief that people who bring joy to the world should be protected at all costs. For Zane, his best friend Riley is one of those people, and he definitely doesn’t mind when making her happy involves helping her pursue her creative dream and some sport sex with a hint of kink. They can have fun, and he can keep her from falling for the next idiot who comes along while she searches for her Prince Charming.

Regardless of her resolution, as things heat up between them Riley finds herself falling again. She needs to decide if she’s in love with the idea of being in love, or if—despite Zane’s insistence that she deserves someone better—what she feels for him is the real thing. If she can’t learn to trust her heart and convince Zane he’s exactly what she needs, it will obliterate a lifelong friendship.

The idea of "no-strings-sex" seems a recurring theme in this series. Interestingly, apart from book 1, the couples involved already know each other, they've already got a history. With history, there are, naturally enough, feelings, which tend to make "no-strings-sex" tricky to pull off. On the other hand, when the sex is as hot as Zane and Riley's, I can understand being reluctant to leave off having it. The book starts off hard and fast with some spicy remote-sex, and develops into lightly-kinky real-life sex not too far down the storyline.

In this work of fiction, Allyson explores a truth that always amazes me: how people so intimately involved with one another physically can be completely clueless about one another's emotions (and sometimes, about their own). I can truly empathize with Riley's confusion as to whether what she feels for a man is actually love, or if she's just so lonely that she projects feelings which aren't real. (I really, truly can.) Toward the end of the tale, Riley does seem to have come to a resolution on this matter, which isn't altogether clear to me—I'd have liked to have seen what brought her to the point of action which broke through the impasse her relationship with Zane'd hit. But her choice didn't surprise, as every thought of hers (and Zane's—love the name, BTW) led up to this very moment.

TOEING THE LINE is a fun, quick, steamy read set in a modern world that fans of shows like The Big Bang Theory may really get into. I look forward to more of Allyson Lindt's hip love stories...and as it happens, her newest contemporary romance novella, Unconventional Fling, is available TODAY!

Click here to read Chapter 1 for FREE!

Writerly Things ~ Revediting

*Expletives were not deleted from this post.*

A marked-up-for-editing snippet from my book, That Fatal Kiss, coming this September!
Lord willing and the police permitting, as my Portuguese forebears would say.

I've been on "stay-cation" since Tuesday, June 18. I had a bunch of revisions/editing to do (hence, "revediting"), based on the notes of the super gal* I employed to copy-edit That Fatal Kiss (TFK). Spent the first couple weeks mostly catching up with Facebook and the Twitter, futzing with my blog's font and text color (as you may already know), and watching lotsa Bones re-runs on the tee-vee. So, you know, I was super productive.

Knowing full well that I needed to get my ass in gear if I wanted to release my book on time, I pushed myself as hard as I could to get through my revediting during my last week off. Nearly every waking hour, for the past 7 days, were spent working on my manuscript.

Please understand that I'm in love with my main characters, Hades and Persephone. I adore them. I lust after them in a quasi-incestuous way. (OK, I lust after Hades, but I think Persephone's a super cool chick.) I've enjoyed tagging along on their courtship journey, immensely.

But I swear, if I have to:

• do one more damned "Find and Replace" because, somehow, I missed getting rid of a word the first hundred times I edited this book;
• pore through this manuscript, looking for quotation marks that are in a font different from the text (how the fuck did that happen???);
• "...delete one more goddamn adverb!" she typed vexedly;

just one more motherfucking time, I may have to cut my own throat.

I am so heartily tired of working on this bitch. SO. TIRED. I'm more than ready to hire someone to do a final post-revediting proofread, format this shit for e-readers, and make this fucker available for purchase online. TFK, I am DONE with you! DONE, DONE, DONE!!!!!

::sighs::

OK, I know I'm not done with you. I know we still have some matters to sort out before I can unleash you upon an unsuspecting world. And you know I heart you, baby, right? Right??? I just need a little breakie-woo. And then I'm-a polish you off, dress you up real purty-like, and put you up on them virtual bookshelves so others can fall in love with you too. XOXOX

*The super gal I hired to edit TFK is Jena O'Connor. Jena has a B.S. and M.A. in English, teaches English at the high school level and has taught writing at the college level, and has released her own romance novel, Mixing Up a Memory. She's friendly, prompt, highly skilled, and has extensive knowledge of the romance genre. Also, her rates are amazingly affordable and she does great work. If you need an editor, I highly recommend you check out her Web site, Practical Proofing.

Liebe me, liebe me...

...say that you liebe me like Penelope Crowe, author of 100 Unfortunate Days does. Thanks, Ms. Crowe, for passing this Liebster on to me. Readers, if you're in the mood for something dark and quirky, check out a free sample of 100 Unfortunate Days; if this doesn't wig you out, I don't know what will, fo' shizzle.

There are numerous steps involved in the acceptance of a Liebster: stating 11 things about yourself, answering 11 questions asked by the person granting you the award, nominating 11 other bloggers for a Liebster and concocting 11 questions for them to answer. Well, if you've been following along this week, you know I worked crazy hours at my day job and am pretty dang beat. Also, I've received this bad boy a few times, now, and the third one (I think) very recently indeed. So I'll tackle the 11 questions asked of me but won't be tagging peeps or making up questions for them, this time around. Anyone interested in claiming this Liebster/answering these questions (even if only in the comments), please feel free to do so.

And now, to Ms. Crowe's questions:

1. What projects have you just finished--and what are you working on now?

I've been editing my Greek mythological romance, That Fatal Kiss, with an eye to self-publishing it later this year, possibly September. After that, I plan to work on a "sampler" of three short supernatural romances, two of which sort of introduce the location of, and a couple of characters from, my next novel, a contemporary supernatural romance called Bedeviled (this will be the first book in a trilogy).

2. Do you have any hidden talents?

Nah, but I got a couple of shekels in my piggy bank. (See what I did there? Talents/shekels were/are units of monetary currency. Didja geddit? Didja, didja, huh, huh???)

3. If you had NO limitations and were a guaranteed success--what project would you undertake?

I'd produce/direct a mini-series of my fave Jane Austen novel, Northanger Abbey. And I wouldn't just hire the eye candy du jour to play the leads, but folks I truly felt bring the roles to life (as Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth did for Pride and Prejudice).

4. Please tell us three things on your bucket list.

Uh...well, I'd love to visit Jerusalem and walk where Jesus walked. Hmmm...This is tough. All my crazy dreams are goals I intend to see through to fruition...maybe I don't get the point of bucket lists...

5. What is the best and worst part of writing?

The best: like sex, it engrosses and revs me up. (Woof!) The worst: like sex, I never want to stop doing it but reality will intrude, damn it...

6. What character in a book or movie do you relate to the most?

Little Red Riding Hood. I've lived a very sheltered life and fell prey to wolves before learning some very difficult and painful lessons.

7. Are you more athletic or aesthetic?

Aesthetic.

8. Do you believe in anything supernatural? If so, what.

I believe that everything's possible (ghosts, werewolves, vampires, sea creatures, legit wicked witches, etc.). The only supernatural beings I feel in my heart and soul to be real are God, His Holy Posse, plus the Devil and his cursed crew.

9. What makes you happy?

Singing my songs with like-music-minded band members backing me up, sex, writing, sex, reading, sex, chocolate, sex, live open-air concerts by my fave bands, sex, realio-trulio good coffee (light, with half and half), sex, losing myself in a theater to portrayals of humorous horror, sex...I did mention sex, right? I'd hate to leave it out, inadvertently.

10. If you could be smarter or better looking--which would you choose and why?

Hmmm! Actually, I'd choose to be brasher, less self-restrictive/censoring.

11.  Whom do you admire the most and how does this person inspire you?

Just generally, I admire people who feel particular passions burning inside their hearts and actively seek to release that fire into the world, despite the doubting voices (both internal and external).

So, yeah, if any of you are inclined to answer these questions, either on your own blog or here in the comments, I'd love to read whatcha gots to say. Meanwhile...

Writerly Things ~ Making Time

Additional Disclaimer:

Plenty of earthy language follows. Just sayin'.

Dear Reader, I'm ready to bet that at least once in your life you've uttered a sentiment similar to this one: "I'd do {insert super-groovy thing you'd love to do here} if only I had the time." Now, God knows I've experienced phases in which my every day responsibilities to my full-time jobby-job, my son, my parents, even my friends, have overwhelmed me. Everybody wants a piece of me and there's precious little to spare. Yeah, life can suck like that, sometimes.

If, like me, you also battle the demon of depression, then doing that super-groovy thing you love can seem impossible. In part, you feel like when you don't have to do a thing, you just bloody well won't do it, and that's that. You're drained, exhausted. You've got nothing left in you to give, even to yourself. You just can't do it. That is even le suckier, because then you find yourself letting your spare hour/evening/weekend piddle away and guilt floods you, because now  you can do that super-groovy thing, and what the fuck are you doing with this precious gift of time, but a whole lotta nothing???

Well, funk that noise.

First, whether you do or don't suffer from depression, those feelings of guilt are an exaggerated response to that evil little rat-bastard worming his way through your soul and mind and, as such, are pretty useless. Except for making you feel worse about yourself, and who the hell needs that? Pas moi. And pas toi, for that matter. Nobody needs that.

You know what you do need?

You need to do that super-groovy thing you love.

Why do you need to? Because it's medicinal; doing something you love can make you feel better, and then you may want to do more, and feel better still. Because you feeling better will make the people who love you feel better, and then you want to perpetuate that cycle 'cause, you know, you love them. And feeling better is as much a need as food, water, shelter, and Lindt chocolates. (OK, maybe that last one's not a need, but damn; work with me, people.) And, you know, you don't worry too much about finding time to eat, drink, and seek shelter. You do that shit tout de suite because you know you need to. So forget about trying to find time for that super-groovy thing you love; you're going to make time for it.

For me, that super-groovy thing is sex, but since that's not on the table (or on any other piece of furniture, alas), I write. I adore writing. I love my main characters. When I make time to hang out with them, as I've been managing to do more and more, of late, I'm all giddy and infatuated and, frankly, I'm so engrossed in their stories that I've no sense of time passing. The pleasure I derive from writing is just as hot as sex. There, I said it. No, I'm not high. Writing is as good as sex, for me, and if you're a writer, it may be true for you as well, and who the hell doesn't want to make time for sex???

Right; my train of thought just got a wee bit derailed, there. Pardonnez-moi.

Writers, whatever your situation, you can make time for that super-groovy writing you love. Look at your weekly planner, determine how much time you can devote to your writing, and write that jazz down in pen. (Everything's more serious when you write it in pen, ever notice that?) It doesn't have to be a lot of time, but it should be as close to every day as possible. (Ladies taking The Pill: you take that thing on some kinda regular schedule or else the system fails, amiright???) And when that precious time rolls around, you make sure your space for it is set up and just get down to it. Don't turn on the TV (unless you really, truly get into the writing flow when there's background conversation), don't log in to any social media. Just write. Write by hand, if online-goofery's too tempting to resist otherwise. I crank up my favorite tuneage and get cracking. (Duran Duran's got a way of priming my pump.) (So to speak.)

And don't worry about doing it perfectly. Like sex, the pleasure of writing doesn't spring from some flawless ideal; it comes from the sweaty physical contact, the stumbling engagement with the moment, and the breathtaking twists that come along the way to shake, rattle, and roll you. (I know you know what I'm talking about.) I read this nifty piece from Writers Digest today, and the bit about "nothing is ever wasted" really resonated with me. 'Cause it ain't. It's all beautiful. And it's all good. And anyway, we don't need perfection; what we need is to strive.

Blog Props ~ Random Stream of Consciousness

In a recent post, I invited participants in my Resurrection Blogfest to reach out to me if they wanted a reminder e-mail close to The Big Day, in case they also were sufferers of Momnesia (like me) or its sinister counterpart, Dadnesia. Not too long after that post went live, I received the following e-mail:

*stands up from chair, looking nervous*

"Hi everyone. My name is Wayne and I have Dadnesia"

*everyone* "Hi Wayne."

"It affects almost everything I do. The other day I went to work with one brown shoe and one black shoe on. I'd forget my face if it wasn't stuck to my head. I fear it may control my life soon."

*helpful person in group with a shiny badge that says "I didn't forget for three months!"* "Don't worry Wayne, we can help you."

*everyone else makes positive sounds and says things like "Hang in there buddy."*

"You see I have this really important Blogfest on November the seventh. Mina Lobo might be disappointed if I don't post on time."

*helpful person* "Ah, Mina. She was in here last week. Now she remembers things by tying knots in a dark purple silk 'kerchief."

"I don't have a dark purple silk'kerchief. Woe, woe and thrice woe. I am undone."

"Maybe you should email her to get her to remind you?"

"Sounds great. How will I remember to do that...?"

"Hmm. Have you a 'kerchief?"

"Sadly no."

"Ah. Looks like you're fucked then."

*everyone else shows 'kerchiefs of myriad colours with knots in and murmur things akin to "Yep, fucked." and "Where did this loser come from?"

"You know what, I want my money back."

"Sorry friend, no refunds."

Remind me Mina. Otherwise I am lost.

Folks, I was giggling like Wilma Flintstone on acid after reading, "Woe, woe and thrice woe. I am undone," which doesn't happen often. (Fine—not as often as you'd expect, all right? Sheesh.) Anyway, this brilliant bit of fun came from Wayne Assiratti (OMG, isn't that the freakin' coolest last name?????) of Random Stream of Consciousness.

Click here to feed the frog. (Not a euphemism.)

So, who is this Wayne fella? Well, in response to a previous blog post of mine, Wayne wrote of himself, "I'm a husband and father, rocker and roller, sometimes a right out of controller with a penchant for words, music and a tendency to be over generous (sometimes a fault my wife complains), also I always believe that people are inherently good and circumstances change their behaviour and perspective, that viewpoint can sometimes affect me detrimentally!"  You can learn more about his sordid past and raison de blogging by clicking here.

Wayne explores writing of various types on his blog, from very short fiction to a longer work in progress he's putting up in installments. Here are some more samples of his work, posted here with his kind permission:

Scarlet

Of late, things in town were getting worse and worse. The newcomers had been taking liberties with land, property and now the women. She knew that it was only a matter of time before they got to her. First with honeyed words that after refusal would turn to curses, knives and taking by force. She picked up the gun.

***

An excerpt from the second installment of Reunion

He turned around to see the young man in the bed looking at him. He couldn't have been more than 21. His skin looked like dark satin in the light from the city through the window. Unblinking, the young man said in his thick accent "Again?"

"No. Thank you."

"Then you pay me. I go." He smiled.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yes." That smile again. "Don't worry. I tell no one." He pulled on his clothes in a way that was almost as pleasing to the eye as the way he took them off earlier. "If I told a news man what I know about the powerful men in this city, I would be dead one hour later."

"Ah. Well, here is your money." said Richard, feeling awkward "You really are quite beautiful you know."

"The young man kissed him on the lips. "So are you. Goodnight Mr Blake. Maybe another time, yes?"

Richard grinned "Next time I'm in Riyadh." Both men smiled at this little game.

"Now go," said Richard, shutting the door. "I really should call my wife."

***

Oh, SNAP! OK, so it's not all fun and games with Mr. Assiratti of the Colossally Cool Surname, but it is entertaining writing which I highly recommend y'all check out (do it, Do It, DO IT NOW!!!). Ahem. You know, when you get a chance...

Crazy insane...?

The title of today's blog (apart from being a short, if hilarious, line from the movie Weird Science) accurately describes me, as some of you may have guessed and others know for a fact. I out myself as a loon because I've signed up for this year's Blogging From A to Z Challenge. (Witness nifty badge to the right.) Basically, I've committed to blogging at least 100 words per post on subjects spanning the alphabet, in order. (So, April 1's subject must begin with the letter "A," April 2's with "B," and so on.) Blogs may be themed or not, it's up to each blogger's particular brand of bonkers.

I don't know what the hell I was thinking when I decided to throw down with the alphabet, blog-stylie. Rather, I don't know that I was thinking - a primal urge to engage in battle bubbled up from my reptilian brain and completely overrode all reason. I saw the sign-up page and it suddenly got all Eye of the Tiger in my mind's ear. This surge of writerly recklessness took no note of how I'd utterly failed to complete NaNoWriMo back in November 2008 (though my frenzied efforts, while they lasted, did form the beginning of a story I'm keen to expand upon). (At some point.) (I'm dead meat if Chuck Wendig ever reads this: see point #8 of this blog post.)

Anyway, I believe I will successfully complete the A to Z Challenge because it's a different sort of time investment - 26 100-word blogs don't seem quite as daunting to write as a 50K-word book. Too, I can write some, or all, of the blogs in advance and have them automatically publish on their due-dates. (That is to say, it's my understanding that the rules allow this. I encourage anyone who knows different to please set me straight.) This Challenge appears to be a more manageable endeavor for a single mom who works full time but, as I said before, I'm nuts. (NVTS)

In other news, R. Mac Wheeler's blog post inspired me to Wordle my mythological romance, That Fatal Kiss, which I've been shopping around. A Wordle is sort of a word-collage of selected text, or set of words, which emphasizes repeated words by increasing their size in the collage. The larger the word, the more often it's used. Check it:

Here's another one; I dig how it looks like Hades is breaking through a ground of words to get to Persephone:

PS, y'all: It would be super groovy if you'd vote in my poll, up yonder at the right-hand tippity-top of the page. Thanks!

Writerly things...

...because I'm all give.

Well, not really - but I'm happy to share! (Unless we're talking about men or chocolate. Then I'm all, "Mine, mine, mine!!!") Mmmm, men or chocolate. Hmmm...men covered in chocolate? Oh dear, I feel a swoon coming on. Wait, what was I gonna say...? Oh yeah - in today's blog I'll share some stuff I've found useful as a writer.

There are loads of books about writing and how to go about it and whatnot. My fave so far is Fearless Creating: A Step-by-Step Guide To Starting and Completing Your Work of Art by Eric Maisel. Among other things, Maisel writes about "belligerent commitment" to your craft, be it writing, music making, painting, whatever. You just *do* whatever the hell it is you've gotta do. Do it, do it now, already!!!!! That's oversimplifying the matter, somewhat, which doesn't make it wrong, if you see what I'm sayin'. And for some funny (and highly profane - you've been warned) advice on writing, try Robert Brockway's How to Become an Author, in 5 Incredibly Difficult Steps or Chuck Wendig's 25 Things Writers Should Start Doing (ASAFP).

For writing prompts, I've got The Pocket Muse by Monica Wood (a gift from a former boss, bless her heart) and The Writer's Block by Jason Rekulak, both of which contain (in addition to textual prompts) gorgeous and/or evocative pictures which, if you're visually oriented like me, you may find pretty nifty. I've turned to them many times when I've felt sluggish or stuck, using a prompt for either a simple exercise or as the catalyst for a scene I couldn't get through.

Got a beautiful, sensitive hero or a brave, ballsy heroine and don't know what to name him or her? (Or it?) You could check out Popular Baby Names for free, courtesy of Social Security Administration. Or you could try The Baby Name Wizard: A Magical Method for Finding the Perfect Name for Your Baby by Laura Wattenberg. Neither will tell you name meanings, but the latter does other groovy things, like categorizing names by style and giving you names related/similar to a name you may be considering (useful for naming siblings). I think my favorite section is where Wattenberg lists names from the "Surfer 60s." (Strangely, for a goth, I've really been jonesing for the beach and its ginchy Gidget culture...what's up with that?) (Don't worry, I'll explain in a forthcoming bloggy-blog.) (OK, maybe you should worry, a little.)

I've used agentquery.com to hunt - ahem - research agents and querytracker.net for the same, which also has info on publishers. Another site I've relied on for agent info is Absolute Write Water Cooler, a fantastic forum in which other aspiring authors have posted about their experiences in submitting queries. And a cool site for researching markets and tracking submissions for magazines and short stories is Duotrope.

Want to blog but aren't sure how to get started? Robert Lee Brewer's Blogging Tips for Writers helped me out a lot. (But you can't blame the poor man for what I write, or even for the fact that I do write; it's totally not his fault.)

So how about all youse creative guys out there - what stuff's helped/amused/inspired you?

Surviving...

Recently, while I dug through the old folders at the bottom of a closet for my divorce paperwork (who knew Balthazar/The Kid's college applications would ask for the exact month and year in which I broke the ties that bound me? Not I.), I came across an old notebook in which I'd done some fictional scribbling (that is to say, I scribbled some fiction, not that I'm lying about having scribbled in it). I pulled the notebook out from the rubble and leafed through it, sort of smiling as I read my notes, and remembered how dreadful things were at that point in my life.

At the time, Balthazar's dad and I had long since split up and The Kid and I were sharing the bedroom I'd once shared with my sister when we were kids, at my parents' place. Space was tight and money was tighter. I'd completed a gig by mid-June of that year, worked part-time for a while, you know how it is. (I'm reminded by Grandpa's words in the movie The Lost Boys, "Lucy, you're the only woman I ever knew that didn't improve her situation by getting divorced.") (Word.)

Anyway, I'd become involved in a Long Distance Romance (LDR) with a European dude I'd "met" online (we were both avid X-Philes). At some point I got a crappy full-time job, which eased some of my financial concerns but didn't get me any closer to Mr. Wonderful. (And anyway, our romance was doomed, as I couldn't see myself taking little Balthy that far away from his dad, and Mr. Wonderful, it turned out, wasn't prepared to pull up stakes to be with me.)

Our star-crossed LDR dragged on till the following summer/early fall, when it finally imploded in a flurry of pissy e-mails. A month after that, I was laid off from the crappy job. (Oh, snap!) I can sort of grimace about it all now, but at the time, it was le major suck. But damned if I didn't rally - I began writing. Perhaps I did it to escape from the God-awfulness I lived (in fact, I'm sure of it). Thinking back to the ruined-me-of-the-past, I get all onion-eyed for her suffering, but I'm also just so damned proud of her pluck. Wallowing in my misery would've been prodigiously easy (and I definitely did, a bit; I'm a good littler wallower), but I also pushed through the ick and applied myself toward a productive end. Yay, me!

But back to the notebook: along with my scribblings, I'd made a list of songs I'd listened to in heavy rotation as I wrote. At the top of the list was a song I haven't heard in ages - "Good to be Alive" by this groovy She-jay (female deejay) who goes by the moniker DJ Rap. As my mind chugged through its memory cache in search of the lyrics, my eyes misted over again. Chanting along with the song (which frequently made no sense to me) somehow got me through those dark days, and I found myself singing the tune repeatedly in the days following my rediscovery.

In the song, DJ Rap sings, "...sometimes I wonder how I survived..." I wonder that about myself. How do we keep going in the face of adversity, suffering, repeated failure, and heartache? Maybe it's stubbornness. Maybe it's naïveté. And maybe it's just...pluck.

Any of youse guys got a tune that kept you from jumping off your own personal ledge in the Before Times? Tell us about it in the Comments field, yo.

Winding up for the pitch…

I spent my Thanksgiving-food-coma-recovery-period tweaking my query letter for the mythological romance novel I’ve completed and am ready to shop around. I figure I’ll e-mail it to my targets—uh…I mean—carefully selected literary agents next Wednesday. (I’m guessing the many aspiring writers hunting agents will have inundated their Inboxes over the holiday weekend, maybe they’ll be caught up by next Thursday?) (OK, they probably won't be, but I've gotta get them query letters out some time!)

Why try to land an agent? Well, with so many as-yet-unproved writers hawking their wares, publishing companies generally don’t look at unagented work. According to Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (and many others) proper literary agents make money only when they sell their clients’ work, so they’re not about to waste their (or publishers’) time with books that aren’t le awesome/commercially viable. Knowing this, it behooves me to seek representation. Plus, agents are experts in the wheeling and dealing and legalese involved in contract negotiations—the very idea of attempting to tackle this on my own makes my stomach wobble unpleasantly (and not in the, “Whoa, who’s *that* god-like specimen of masculine comeliness?” sort of way). Rock on, literary agents!

Meanwhile, I’m thinking of trying the thrilling frontier (as Cheryl Shireman describes it) of independent publishing. I’ve got a short story (creepy romance—it's just so me), an idea for another, and a shorter weird tale that I may compile into a mini-anthology and put up for sale on Amazon.com as an e-book. I can test the waters with it and, if my novel gets no nibbles, may go the e-book route with it as well. On the pro side, authors receive a significantly bigger cut of the profits when they e-publish themselves, rather than go with traditional publishing. On the con side, authors may have to put money up to make any (if they do), they receive no advance in royalties, and they’re completely responsible for all promotional endeavors for their work, as well as all the bureaucratic stuff. (Eeeeek!) I should note that mine is a down and dirty summary of the business; Kristine Kathryn Rusch (and her friend, Lee Allred) go into more detail discussing traditional publishing -vs- indie publishing, and Tracy Marchini gives even more to chew over. But, you know, if what you're doing ain't workin' for ya, ya gotta try something else, dontcha?

A friend suggested I put samples of my writing up on the blog, by way of providing teasers/appetizers for any interested parties, so I may do some scribbling towards that end. Please do check back—and wish me luck!

OMG, Now what???*

...so, I created this bloggy-blog in an effort to build an author's platform because I've got: one complete romance novel, one novel I need to romancify a bit more (really, I need to completely revise it to show the romance between the protagonist and her main squeeze), a coupla short stories, and a coupla projects on the back-burner - all of which, I fervently hope, will achieve a respectable measure of commercial success. (Or a disreputable measure of commercial success - I got a kid to put through college next year, I can't be choosy.) (It hurts my brain that I'm old enough to have a kid to put through college.) (Luckily, there's wine.)

Starting this blog freaked me out a bit, and knowing I have to maintain it ravages any remaining peace of mind because:

...OMG, what to write about?...
...OMG, when do I have time to write this thing??
...OMG, who the hell's gonna read this???

As to content, I reckon I'll write about quirky life stuff, my quirky kid (aka, The Kid), and my quirky experiences as a single mom who works full time and writes...well, who sometimes writes (I suppose I wouldn't have stuff burning on the back of the stove if I wrote more regular-like). I believe I'll figure it all out as I go along, but I've learned one definite rule of thumb: I can't wait to find time for important things, I have to make it.

With regard to the "who" aspect - I thank you, Dear Readers, for popping by to check my stuff out. Your interest and support mean a lot to me. Please keep checking back and, if you have any suggestions for content, I'd love to know about 'em!

*I realize this isn't a very exciting blog, so I peppered the text with links to random sexiness. See if you can find all 8. NB: My idea of sexy's a bit twisted, so be warned.  ;-)