Where is my Mind
I published The Spirus on Christmas day. Since then, I've published the prequel and I've furiously written most of another book.
When I was nearly done with the prequel to the Spirus, I knew I wanted to write the Salome story, but I kinda wanted to do it Norma Desmond style and not Oscar Wilde. As I'm writing the prequel, my brain starts screaming at me, but WHAT if you take it totally in this direction and go totally into left field with the Salome story?
My head would literally not stop screaming at me about the Salome story. I took about a weeks break and furiously wrote about 40K words in a week. Spent, I went back and finished the prequel and hit publish around February 15th or so.
I've been working on the Salome story since then and it's up to a little over 92K words in maybe 2-3 weeks. I'm pretty much done except the last chapter. Except I'm staring at this last chapter like my pit bull when I give her a crunchy treat. I have it in my mouth and I know I want to eat it, but I'm so excited, I've forgotten what to do with it. So I'm doing what she does when she gets a cookie. I'm essentially running around the room and jumping on and off the bed with a cookie in my mouth like, "I'VE FORGOTTEN HOW TO DO ANYTHING BECAUSE I'M EXCITED!!"
This also could be because of the fact that while I plowed through this book, I stopped eating real food, dropped a ton of weight, and made myself sick. I thought I might want to eat real food again and was going to order delivery. Saw Waitr has Izzo's now and I could have had a big, beautiful vegetarian burrito delivered to my face hole. My stomach pretty much said, "Yeah, I still don't want to eat." So I closed the app and went back to writing.
I pretty much look like Gollum right now and I have to go to a family function later today. They are either going to A: throw food at me or B: their electronics are going to be so broken I spend the entire time huddled in the corner fixing them no one notices my resemblance to Gollum.
I did catch up on season 3 of Z nation while writing the Salome story. I have an idea for my next book, which, oddly, does not involve zombies considering I was watching a zombie show. It has 0 to do with zombies and there's a Ben Folds song involved. Maybe it came to me because I was trying to distract myself from that really bad wig they put a character in. Hello, lace fronts are awesome. Use them.
My version of the Salome story is actually full of drug lords, cocaine, snitches, and sex. That's just where I decided to take it. I'm looking for people who want ARC's in exchange for a review. If you click HERE
and sign up, once I'm finished and done editing, I'll pop a free copy over to you for review
I make my own covers. Generally, they are also photos I have taken myself aside from the Mauve series because I don't have the props for it here. I ended up having to use a stock photo for the prequel to The Spirus, which I still haven't blogged about, but is out, but all the art work to it aside from the photo is mine.
I have this folder full of covers that made it and covers in various states of undress where I started a filter and didn't like it. For the prequel to "The Spirus", I made a blue, purple, and red themed cover. Red was the one that won, Figuring out what I want to eat also usually takes 3 days and about 4 trial runs.
The book I'm working on now, I have about 6 versions of the cover that are potentials. I decided on one I liked and put my title and name on it. I have computer installed fonts and fonts I downloaded. I put a font I found and haven't used before on the cover and now I have no fucking idea which font it is for the spine.
I'm going to have to go on a font scavenger hunt when it comes time to put a paperback cover together. I'm getting close to finishing the book, which is a modern day twist on the Salome story. I only hope Amazon doesn't put this book in biblical fiction, otherwise, I'm going to piss a whole hell of a lot of people off
I pretty much have my first hater. I'm not sure if that means I've made and I can retire to my castle with pygmy goats. I know who it is and what their problem is.
Pretty much the only thing I will dignify with an actual response is that I was accused in public of using a ghost writer. Everything on online with my name on it was written directly BY me, usually after a 16 hour work day. I write between 4-6 hours a day, usually into the later hours of the night.
My work and writing schedule has changed 3 times since November due to where I work. I went from writing everything until the wee hours of the morning to having to get up way before my body was ready as a night person and having to learn to write in the afternoon. About a month ago, my schedule changed again. I work in the morning, I get a 4 hour break where I feed myself and try to fit as much writing in as I can, then I go back to work for a few more hours. I clock out and write for another few hours.
Basically, my knees are falling apart from the way I write. I danced for years, both for local companies and in school. My flexibility was quite loved by choreographers, but my bendy knees decided to give themselves runners knee the way I sit to write for so many hours. I don't run. Ever. If you see me running, you should run too because basically, the Walking Dead is happening.
So basically, I don't ghost write. My body is turning against me for the way I sit to write and I currently look like Gollum from staying up late to write and getting up early for work.
Say whatever you want about me because you're pissed, whatever. Vomit all over internet random shit about me. It's been 3 months and it's probably time to just move on. I'm generally not going to respond to it until you try to say my written word and my ideas are not my own and something I pay someone else for
The Spirus is an adult fantasy novel. I will have ARC's available by the end of the day? Want to know a little more about it? Check out the book trailer..
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I couldn't help it. Like, COULD NOT. I blame the rum.
My facebook popped up this story that Rush Limbaugh claimed on his show that Obama was paying lesbians to become farmers to infiltrate rural areas. Why they are coming? I have no idea. Probably that pesky gay agenda.
My mind started running. I can't catch it when it does that because I have bad knees and I danced for years and can no longer run like a normal person. My brain went there. I try not to pick at it when it's doing it's thing. WHAT IF these lesbians arrived on fifteen foot Clydesdales in a majestic cloud of dust? WHAT IF they had cows with laser eyes? Stay with me a minute, I do theatre. What are the lesbians motivation? What do they want?
Horchata rum is my new favorite thing, so I spiked a frappucino and got to writing. Attack of the Lesbian Farmers was born. There's lesbians, farmers, fifteen foot Clydesdales, and a cow named Anne Boelyn.
Jeb thinks his farm is safe, way out where he lives, at least for the next year or so while he comes up with a plan to drive the invading lesbians out when they do show up.
Jeb was not expecting the lesbians to arrive on fifteen-foot-high Clydesdales with demon red eyes and a cow named Anne Boleyn. Will the lesbians run Jeb out of business and steal his wife, who sometimes has opinions as he fears? What do these lesbians want?
Feet of Clay and Midnight's Sonata are on sale for $.99. I meant to blog when the price first changed, but the past few days have been insane.
I work from home and just started another job. They still do not have my direct deposit set up straight. My bank has an app to deposit checks, but they can't be over a certain amount. I don't like driving to the ATM as late as I get off work and it takes away from my writing time. I have another checking account linked to my main bank, and deposit my check using their app.
I've been making these pretty awesome milkshakes with Tiramisu gelato, Bailey's, and Kahlua. I haven't put a dent in the Kahlua bottle because it's bigger than I am, but I'm running low on Baileys. Head over to Costco because I need groceries. Find out Costco has $4000 booze. I'm a much cheaper date. Grab a bottle of Baileys bigger than I am, find new food stuff that I am really excited about and go to check out. I have no idea what the Pin is on the debit card for my other checking and it takes several days to transfer to the account with the pin I know. Get told I cannot run that card as credit because of the type of card it is. And on top of it, she made me fish out my license and prove I am over 21, even though I'm WAY over 21.
Made sad panda face and went to Target. Found out boxed water is a thing. No idea if someone is waiting for Jesus to come turn that into boxed wine, but why??? Also, one can buy jarred pork fat. Maybe it's my southern showing, but I thought everyone had a canister on the stove with a strainer that you pour your bacon fat in after you cook to save it for later. It looked like coconut oil and I know I would have been really upset if I grabbed it thinking it was and brought it home and tried to make fat bombs with it.
ANYWAY, Yeah. Feet of Clay and Midnight's Sonata are both $.99 pretty much everywhere if the changes have gone through on all the sites. Special Agent Mauve is permafree. I need to go in and make Flash Permafree on Amazon, I just haven't had the time.
I've hired a PA and she's been awesome and hosted a few take overs for me. I've given away a few ARC's for Feet of Clay and hope to start getting feedback soon. When I write, I pretty much sit here thinking it's garbage, then I do my rewrites like, this isn't so bad, then I edit like OMG THIS IS TOTAL GARBAGE but then I hit publish and put it into the wind and try to promote it because maybe someone out there will like it.
I have not posted about the flooding in Louisiana because I'm still trying to process it. When I woke up that morning, my phone had an alert that we were under a flash flood warning. I didn't even think about it because we get those frequently and there was no hurricane warning. There was also no evacuation warning because, again, no hurricane.
I work from home, and I did what I always do. I drank my greens smoothie, brought my laptop downstairs, and logged into my training session for my new job. I let them know the weather was a little rough and I may lose power. The power lines on my street are above ground and sometimes we lose power for a week during bad weather.
On my fifteen minute break, I logged in to Facebook. My mother had posted photos and her entire street was under water and creeping towards her house. My parents have occupied that house for 33 years. In that time, the water had never gotten that high. It didn't flood during hurricane Katrina, nor did the water get that close to the house.
Two hours later, I am on my lunch break. I check Facebook again. I have friends posting that they had to leave because water is coming into their houses. They left to go stay with family members who are dry and don't have water in the front of their house.
The next morning, I have another flash flood warning on my phone. I find out my parents had to flee their house in the night to higher ground until a family member could pick them up. My grandmother is okay, but she also lives close to me and I haven't flooded. I check Facebook again and all of my friends who do rescue work are desperately trying to find someone with a dry home to keep their fosters so they can get to at least one of the shelters that is open. One of them is running low on pet food and can't get out to get more. At least one of my friends has water up to the ceiling in her house.
AT&T cell towers are now under water. No one with AT&T can call or send texts unless they have a model cell phone that allows Wi-Fi calling and they are near a router. I cannot call my parents at all because they have older phones. The people that do have cell service are sharing photos and videos. There are streets that are totally underwater with just roofs visible. Local fishermen got together and pulled people off roofs and out of cars in their fishing boats and bateaus. They have since been named "The Cajun Navy". Videos of them pulling people and animals out of the water, out of cars, and off roofs have been shared multiple times on my Facebook.
I did not flood and I never lost power, but almost everyone I knew did. When I leave my house and talk to other people, I feel guilty meeting weary eyes when they ask how I made out after telling me they lost everything, to tell them I was okay in the flooding. The flood water is slowly going away, but people here are not okay. I know people with ten people staying at their house who need food. My rescue friends are overloaded with lost pets and need pet food. A lot of the people who flooded are not in flood zones and have not flooded since they have been alive, and do not have flood insurance. People have to get tetanus shots to go back inside their houses because there is foul water pooling on their floors and no one can start putting the drywall that they had to rip out back in for weeks because of toxic mold.
I'd like to address a few things I've seen in the news or other people post. I've seen this on twitter, facebook, etc. Why isn't Hilary there? Why isn't Obama there? Because they were asked to wait. Officers and firemen are tied up with rescue and dealing with traffic accidents on the roads that are actually open. That is where they need to be. Unless a politician is going to be here going around ripping out drywall, pulling people off roofs, etc, they don't need to be here tying up resources. Yes, Trump came anyway. No, he didn't donate to any of the disaster relief programs that are here. He donated to Tony Perkin's church. Tony Perkin's used to preach that disasters like this were sent to punish gay people. Until his house flooded in this flood.
I would also like to talk about some of the ignorant things I've read from people who don't live here who have been saying we should have learned our lesson and left after Katrina and should get no relief. I would also like to address the man who said he didn't want his tax dollars coming here because we should have known better. THIS WAS NOT A HURRICANE. This was 3-4 days of epic rain. Louisiana is not wetlands. The majority of people who flooded are not in flood zones because this is a 500 year flood. It's now being called a 1000 year flood. And to the guy who doesn't want his tax dollars coming here, I'll gladly send you some of mine so that you can go to school and learn geography, flood plains, and basic science
Feet of Clay finally has a blurb, an ebook cover, and a paperback cover. And a release date finally. I'm shooting for 8/9 on all major retail outlets. This couldn't have been made possible without the help of a dear friend who stepped in and saved me while I was having a nervous break down and giving myself blurb related diabetes. I still don't know what category I'm actually going to put this book in. I've had several people suggest dark romance to me, but in this one, it's the girl, not the guy who is dark, mysterious and brooding and has all the issues. The guy does too, but we know what is going on in his head.
My dear friend who wrote the blurb was reading and chatting with me while he read it. He sent me a message "Is this THAT kind of story?" I told him it wasn't and broke the plot down for him since he asked and his response was just "Woah". He only got a little over 100 pages into it before he had to take a break because he said it got too intense, which is kind of what I was going for. Will be doing a bit of promoting and I finally got a PA who will be helping me, then it will be released.
As I have posted in previous blogs, the blurb for Feet of Clay is giving me fits. I retreated into a blanket fort and edited for 2 months because I didn't want to write it.
I now HAVE to write it. I had been staring at this word doc with a half written blurb that I hated for two days. I had to go grocery shopping and went hungry, so I left with junk food. I get back home and I'm sitting there staring at the word doc, dipping mini kitkats into a tub of frosting, and hating life.
I send my friend a facebook message so he can talk me down. He tells me, "How about I write your blurb and you buy me a copy of the new Harry Potter book?" Now, this seems like a mutually beneficial arrangement to me.
I email him a final copy and finally slow down with the giving myself blurb related diabetes. He starts reading and send me a message, "Is this THAT kind of story?" I reply to him that it's not, I just started it when I was a wee babby writer so it seems that way at first. So he asks me what it is, indeed about. So I break it down. His response was "Woah."
When I wake up this morning, I have a blurb based on what I've told him thus far and the first 100 pages. He had to take a break from reading because the story was too intense. But I like his blurb so far. I just need to get input if people would buy it based on the blurb. It says what the story is about without giving away the surprises, twists, and too much detail
Max has never had a student quite like Taylor. He's been teaching for a long time and knows potential on the rare occasions he sees it. However, Taylor's personal life has convinced many people in their small town she's not worth the effort. Max sees things differently, though. As he struggles to reach the girl, though, he makes an error in judgment that changes everything, and Taylor disappears.
Five years later, Taylor returns, and Max sees it as an attempt to make amends for the past. However, Taylor doesn't seem to remember what happened, and as a relationship forms between the unlikely pair, Max worries that telling her the truth will cause irreparable damage to both of them. How much does Taylor actually know? And how much is Max willing to deny the past for the sake of an illusory present?
I've been in a funk for over a month. There is a date in June that is a very hard day for me. Feet of Clay has been finished for two months now and all I've needed to do is write the blurb. Rather than write it, I've been in a blanket fort with Netflix editing. I thought I was going to be able to come out last month, then that day in June happened and I've hated everything I've written, so I've still been editing.
I've gone through Midnight's Sonata again and I'm giving Feet of Clay one last go through, then I think I may finally write the blurb and send it off.
I live in Louisiana and have my entire life. There are things about me that are very southern and things that are not. Most of the time, when I call people at work, certain parishes with thick southern accents can't understand me and keep asking if I'm from California or New York. I dislike sweet tea and like my tea bitter like my soul. There are people who think I am rude because I go straight for "wow, you're a stupid twunt" instead of "bless your heart". I'm a vegetarian democrat living in the south. But there are also things you can never take away from me that I got from here. I actually prefer the heat and humidity to cold weather. You can pry my Community coffee, grits, and Tony's from my cold dead heads.
How this effects my writing? Only a small portion of my work takes place in Louisiana. Very little actually. One chapter in Midnight's Sonata. Feet of Clay takes place in a fictional small town that could be anywhere. The more I edit, the more I have to check my southern and sit here thinking, fix it, Jesus.
There's several scenes in Feet of Clay where they go grocery shopping. Shopping carts are called buggies here. I had to fix that. I was also sitting here wailing one night around midnight screaming "Whyyyy does every character in my novels live in a house with a porch???" I grew up in a house with a front and back porch, but now I live in a townhouse and all I have is a door step. Every time there is a hurricane here and we lose power for what seems like forever, I bring the contents of my freezer to my parents house and they grill my tofu and the contents of their freezer on a propane grill and we all pig out on the back porch and eat all the food before it goes bad. It's just what you do when there's a hurricane.
The next novel up for me after I've submitted Feet of Clay is going to be a fantasy novel. I have ideas for a horror and a strange sci-fi. Since I've been in a mood for over a month, I haven't been sleeping well and have been lucid dreaming. If I think it will work for a story, I get out of bed when they wake me up, type it into this note pad file, and try to go back to sleep
Special Agent Mauve-Origins is now permafree on Amazon and available for free on Smashwords, ibook, and many other sites.
I'm working on part two right now and there's an evil cat in it, based off several resident felines. It's a little ironic that I take a break from editing Feet of Clay to write this and one of these jerks knocks the Q off my keyboard and I can't find the key to put it back on.
I type on a USB keyboard and there is still one on my laptop keyboard, but switching between the two is awkward. I'm also realizing how much I previously undervalued that letter. As I sit here lamenting my lack of the Q key, one of the resident weirdos is just sitting behind me licking my back. He's probably going to weird out in a few minutes and go leaping across the room. This cat previously hated my guts, but he got into a fight with one of the other cats and I had to take him to the vet to get an abscess on his leg drained. He had to stay in the bathroom for a week and after a week of watching me use the toilet and shower, he now likes me. He's lived here 10 years and has hated me up until we bonded in the bathroom.
Special Agent Mauve part two will be coming out shortly. Feet of Clay is done aside from writing the blurb. I have been putting off writing the blurb for a month now because the thought makes me feel squirrely. I've been editing in my blanket fort so I don't have to do it. Sometimes there is ice cream and Netflix. Sometimes I suck my thumb and curl into the fetal position when I think about the blurb.
Next up, once I get over my blurb issues is a fantasy novel and I got the idea for a horror novel when I couldn't sleep. Because really, who wants to stick to one genre? I know the entire plot for the fantasy novel, since it's been in my head so long, but just the general idea for the horror. The rest will probably come to me at 3am when I'm trying to sleep, like always
Feet of Clay is finished. The cover is nearly finished. It's been finished since the beginning of May. Why is it not published you ask? Because I wrote the damned thing and still have no idea how to write the blurb for it, nor which genre box to put it in.
So I've been refusing to adult and write it. Everything I've ever written has been re-edited, including Midnight's Sonata, which is over 500 pages. It needed it because I found a random 3 one of these asshole cats inserted. I also started part 2 of my Special Agent Mauve series.
There's a bunch of twists in Feet of Clay and I want to write a blurb that hooks people without giving it away. I've also chatted with a friend and she believes it kinda, sorta, MAYBE could fit under dark romance, but I would have to put a warning about the end so that I don't piss people off.
I've looked at several dark romance books on Goodreads and while it kinda sorta fits there, it also doesn't. It's about a couple and a relationship. It wouldn't go under women's fiction because it's told from the point of view of the guy. The girl intentionally remains a mystery until the end, when I give her a voice through journal entries.
I went to New Orleans yesterday to see a touring show at the Saenger. I brought my Kindle so that I could finish reading the novella's I'm reviewing and my tablet JUST IN CASE I decided to adult and write the blurb. My kindle battery died right after we finished eating and got back into the car on the way to the theatre so I couldn't read.
One would think not being able to read on an hour drive home would force me to adult and write the blurb, but I gleefully stuck my fingers in my ears and said NEENER NEENER NEENER and played on facebook the entire drive home.
Eventually, I will put my big girl panties on and force myself to sit down and write this blurb like a grown ass adult.
Speaking of Special Agent Mauve, while I was in New Orleans, a rather bold pigeon crossed my path trying to eat garbage off the street. There are no attack pigeons in the second part of Special Agent Mauve like there is in the first, but there is a rather tech savvy cat that is based off my foster cat.
My foster cat is still available for adoption if anyone is looking for a cat who likes to snuggle, but also knows how to do things to your computer that causes it to blare showtunes at 2AM
I've finally finished Feet of Clay and it's going through rewrite now. I have no idea how this would fit in any of the genres on Amazon though. It's about a relationship, but a messed up one and people are supposed to be conflicted on if they want these people to end up together or not. So it's not romance. There's a few sex scenes in it, but I wanted to take a shower after writing them, even though there is nothing kinky or dirty about it. It's definitely not erotica.
Someone suggested Dark Romance to me and I'm not sure if that would be it either. He turns her into an addict and she turns him into an alcoholic. There's really nothing romantic about the relationship other than he really tries hard to make it work. I'll figure it out eventually.
Special Agent-Mauve got it's first 5 star review on Amazon and someone said it was both snarky and they enjoyed reading something that did not take itself seriously. That was what I was going for with it. I mean, there are attack pigeons in this book. The ending, what happens during her first mission, really happened to me in real life when my parents had us going on youth group trips. It's one of my most unpleasant memories, but I can life about it now.
Snarky and not taking life seriously is pretty much how I live my life, which isn't really that evident by my first novel, Midnight's Sonata, nor Feet of Clay. Those both have a little of me in there and are about serious subjects, but really, where I am now in life is that when life throws me a curve ball, I try to laugh about it.
I'm going to write a sequel to Special Agent-Mauve and I already have an idea for what that is going to be. My next book, after Feet of Clay is published, is going to be a fantasy novel I've had in the back of my head for years. Because really, who wants to be pigeonholed into one genre?
I dream vomited another short story. I may expand on it eventually. Everything I've published this year has been dream vomit.
I've had sleep issues for as long as I can remember. I drove my mother crazy. I'm the oldest and everyone told her babies just sleep all the time. Then I showed up and never slept. I eventually had a sleep study done and found the right medication to knock me out and keep me out. I'm not even going to discuss the conversation that was had in the surgery room when they dosed me to knock me out and five minutes later, I'm still complaining about how much it burns in my IV and they had to dose me again. I think it has something to do with being a ginger. I read an article about it years ago.
I still have nights where I don't sleep well. Monday night was one of those nights. Then the lawn guys showed up at something like, 6AM. I dreamed "Flash-A Death Story" sometime Monday morning.
Kate is driving home from her shift at the hospital. She knows she should take a nap somewhere before she leaves, but she needs to let her dog out. The road is not well lit and she misses her turn. As she goes over the train tracks, there is no barrier or light telling her to stop, but as she crosses, she sees the train coming. FLASH. There is a white light. Another FLASH. She wakes up naked on white stairs with people talking over her. She wakes up again and she's being experimented on. Is she in hell, purgatory, or something worse?
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