Also, school picked up steam (or continued at its infinitely sedate pace, whichever) and I wrote millions of essays, or at least it seemed that way. I can officially say that I am this <–> close to hating essays.

But that isn’t to say I haven’t been writing. I have been, and I even submitted something. It’s time to get this whole “writer” thing rolling again. (Sorry, le 9gag, you must give me back my souls now!) I just haven’t been blogging. Haven’t felt like I had anything to add to the conversation.

Enough with le excuses!

Suffice it to say, I’ll be blogging regularly. About what you ask? Oh, anything I feel like. Horror movies. Books. Comedies. Writing. Munchkins. It’s all up for grabs.

First, though, check this out:

My hubby swears I must be the reincarnation of the woman on the couch, third from the left. In a former life, I was a candidate for Miss Beatnik 1959. And named Patti.

Also, my photoshop skills are quite suckiest. After a couple hours, I give up trying to glue my face onto hers. It would’ve been funny, though. Oh well.

So my blogging skills are rusty. I’m going to have to get these muscles used to working again. I hope everyone clicked on the link to 9gag. I could always use a few more souls under my belt.

Til next time, when I return with a flick for “Hump Day Horror” and more blathering.

- le Weird One

The Lone Star State

I would’ve blogged sooner, but this last month of preparing, cleaning, packing, etc. has been a real doozy. The final transition is made this weekend. Soon after I will have my own personal office (which means lots of quiet time for writing!! hooray for that!!) and lots of distraction-less time. (Moving to a new place sorta does that.)

Anyway, the blog will be continued soon enough. With lots of new goodies in store!

Have a great Valentine’s Day, y’all! I’m a-gonna be moving that day, but it’s all good here.

Music is my religion. – Jimi Hendrix

(Purple Haze – Jimi Hendrix – )

I derive much of my motivation to write from music. Many authors do. Stephen King talks of listening to hard -classic- rock (AC/DC, among others) while writing. I imagine plenty of authors, those established and starving, do. I just don’t have intimate knowledge of their musical playlists.

When it comes to my writing playlist, however, certain songs or musical styles help me to unleash emotionally into my work.

For example:

In my general every-day writing, or the beginning of nearly every writing session, I listen to this song first.

Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums

- A Perfect Circle -

I can’t begin to describe why this song reaches into me and unlocks my Muse. Perhaps it’s the beat, the lyrics, the overall package…. I couldn’t tell you. Music, while one of my many loves and in many ways my own religion, it’s not exactly my most knowledgeable area, either. (As in, I understand the terms, couldn’t begin to demonstrate them though. I know a quarter note is a quarter of a full note, but could I play it for you? Heck no!)

Either way, this song is how I begin every writing session. I don’t generally listen to this song much in my non-writing activities,  but should it cross the path of washing-dishes/exercising/waiting-in-the-ONLY-checkout-line-at-Walmart-after-midnight/folding-laundry/etc., I am instantly hit with the need to write. Much like when a smoker passes another smoker lighting up, or watches it happen on television and they are hit with the full-force desire to light a cigarette RIGHT NOW!

This song brings out my Muse. It is her Siren call.

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When I’m writing a scene that’s particularly sad, say a scene about grief,  loneliness, crushing depression, or whatever reason you can think of to be sad about, I usually turn to blues (what little I have on my mp3 player. I need to get more.)

One of my favorites is taken from the movie, Black Snake Moan. (With Samuel L. Jackson and Christina Ricci. It came out in 2007, if I remember right.)

The Losing Kind

- John Doe -

Yet again, I couldn’t explain why this song in particular reaches out to me for scenes like this, but it does. If I had a better collection of blues, I’d probably offer up a different song, but alas, I have not entirely wetted my appetite for the blues yet and as such, don’t have much knowledge of that musical genre yet.

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This next video is one of my favorite songs to listen to period, but most especially when I am writing a scene or story that is to me surreal, a dream scene or something rather weird/unexplainable.

So Real

- Jeff Buckley -

I think part of why I love this song is just the strangeness of it. (Again, I am familiar with only a few musical terms. Here, in this arena, I lack all my usual nuances and charm.) I particularly love what sounds to me like a weed whacker. (I know that’s actually the guitar–at least, I think so–but it still sounds like a weed whacker to me. And I love it.)

Ultimately, this song is perfect for scenes about surreality, things that may or may not be real. The artist suffered from schizophrenia and wrote this song specifically about his delusions and hallucinations. For me, this makes it a very personal and beautiful song about insanity. That automatically makes it a favorite.

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Let’s talk about love, shall we?

When I’m writing about a good, positive emotion, I look for high spirited music to motivate me emotionally. (Captain Obvious for the Win!)

Yellow

- Coldplay -

The one above is for love in general. For unrequited love, or “down” love, I prefer to listen to:

Shiver

- Coldplay -

Coldplay, to me personally, is one of the best bands for “love/romantic” music. Again, I can’t really explain why I think this. I just find their music always revolves around a certain timbre, pitch, tone, octave, whatever, that seems to scream “LOVE” in a wonderful soprano. (Or, uh, whatever.)

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I love talking about music, even if I don’t know any of the technical aspects of music. I tried to learn an instrument in 5th grade– the violin. I wouldn’t mind trying to learn again, but I’m just not patient enough to learn how to properly play a musical instrument.

Mostly, I love to discuss music because it’s one of few things that everyone has a true opinion on. One song will never sound exactly the same to another person as it does to me. How we perceive music, how we understand the emotional language of music, these are all reflections of who we are underneath the layers of civilization and society that we camouflage ourselves with.

Music reveals everyone for who they truly are.

Which is why music is such a powerful tool when it comes to writing believable, sympathetic and realistic characters. Music helps the writer to peel away the layers of civilization that would cover the character as they do ourselves, allowing us to reveal our characters as they really are, in much the same way music reveals us in our real lives.

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I would include more from my playlist, but I think I’ve put enough up for now. The next blog will cover more music, which scenes I use certain songs to help write, etc.

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RANDOM PARANOID FEAR OF THE DAY #172

One day while flying paper airplanes with my kids, one plane will fly right by my neck, in such a way that it slices my flesh open to the jugular, killing me by paper cut.

Posted in Writing ]]> http://shannawynne.com/2009/08/15/music-and-the-writer-my-playlist/feed/ 2 Shanna 39526362_901-free-paper-airplane-instructions http://shannawynne.com/2009/08/06/the-writers-toolbox-online-part-2/ http://shannawynne.com/2009/08/06/the-writers-toolbox-online-part-2/#comments Thu, 06 Aug 2009 07:44:12 +0000 Shanna Wynne http://shannawynne.com/?p=529 ]]> Hello again, Constant Reader. (Oops. Slipped into some Stephen King verbiage. Let me change that up to….)

Hello, kiddies. (Ok. The Crypt Keeper will have to do. Definitely suits me better.)

Here we are with The Writer’s Online Toolbox Part 2.

Today we’re going to discuss the various websites at your disposal, in particular market websites.

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Now, when I first began writing seriously and looked for publishers, I hit a major obstacle. I had a copy of The Writer’s Market. I used it. I recently gave that copy away, marked up but still mostly good, to a friend of mine who needs to get moving publishing her work. (You know who you are.)

But when it came to the search for markets online, I was stumped. I googled “horror story publishers” and “horror magazines.” Neither of which provided any good results, all of which required I click on individual links.

Google search is one of, but not the best, way of searching for markets.

Finally, after many a moon of not knowing what to do when it came to the online search for markets, I stumbled across Ralan’s SpecFic and Humor Webstravaganza.

As you probably can’t see, the website breaks down markets according to pay.

On top of pay, it breaks down into Anthologies, Book Publishers, etc.

This is very helpful for the newbie writer. No longer must you browse through your Writer’s Market, searching endlessly between entries and index to know what the little symbols mean, which market pays a lot of money, which pay none at all, etc.

I personally find the information provided in the entries section at Ralan’s to be quite helpful. Take a look.

(Sorry about this image being larger, but I would like for you all to have a peek at the going’s-on at Ralan’s.)

The entries are easy to read, easy to understand and best of all, no-nonsense. Exactly the type of thing I enjoy seeing in my market databases.

Ralan’s is my first go-to. Here is where I begin all my market searches.

I should also point out the website is free to use and runs entirely on donations. So in this hard economy, let’s remember that writers aren’t the only ones struggling — so are our publishers and the people who help us find the publishers.

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Duotrope’s Digest is my second go-to for market searches.

The reason I enjoy this site is because, as I’m sure you can see, they actually provide a membership option. The website is entirely free, and runs on donations as well, so if you find yourself with an extra ten dollars this month and you were going to spend it on books, try sending some of that their way.

Having a membership at Duotrope isn’t necessary. You can anonymously access their database, perform searches that go into lots of detail….

And incredibly, report your market reponses!

They also have a wonderful facet to membership. You can create your own Submissions Tracker. You input the various data requirements, and the program tracks your submissions. As well as let you know what your average acceptance vs. rejection ratio is. (It’s not anything major. I would honestly prefer a lower acceptance vs. rejection ratio, because I don’t submit as often as I should. If I had a lower ratio, it would reflect how much I submit.)

Ultimately, this is again, a fantastic site. It’s difficult to browse the site. You can’t break down the markets by genre or any other category when exploring the site. All markets are put on a single page in alphabetical order. If you have a story in mind and are looking for the just right market, Duotrope is the answer.

If you’re cruising for a market to sub to, then I would suggest Ralan’s.

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Another favorite website of mine that is both amusing and helpful, is Submitting to the Black Hole. This is just another submissions tracker, though completely anonymous and designed to showcase the response rate of the markets in question. The markets on the list are broken down by Books and Magazines, then listed in alphabetical order.

You’ll have to click on the above link and check this website out in full.

If you’ve sent off a story to never get a reply, come along and find that market on the list and report the negative response. If you’re just curious how long that one short story will take at a certain magazine, come along and see their average response time.

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These websites are amazingly helpful to me when it comes to searching for a market to submit to. Give them a try and see how they work for you.

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RANDOM PARANOID FEAR OF THE DAY #69

On one of my nightly walks, I will come across a foggy patch of road, where I’ll be swallowed into the greyness…. never to see the light of day again. And force fed pea-soup until I die.

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There you have it, kiddies. Part 2 of the Writer’s Online Toolbox series. Next we’ll tackle work-shopping/tip websites and where you need to be at right now.

Until next time………

She asked, “How do you make novel writing fun?”

To which I replied…

I will BLOG!

Hehe. Got to get readers somehow, right?

So here we go….

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HOW TO MAKE WRITING A NOVEL FUN

Guideline #1

Think hard about something you enjoy doing. Besides writing. For me personally, I really enjoy organizing stuff. (I know, sick… just plain sick.) I could spend hours reorganizing my file cabinet, my “office space,” books, etc.

So for me, I find Google Docs to be a gift! Again, I’m pimping it. Why? Because we’ve all had those I-thought-I-saved-the-novel-to-the-computer-but-it-was-slow-and-crashed-and-then-it’s-gone!! moments.

There is no such thing as a 100% reliable computer. (Or internet connection, or web server, or anything, really.)

However, I have amazing faith in Google.

Besides that, Google is easier to use than my clumsy Microsoft Word, indefinite space to use, and they save far more regularly than I remember to, without the auto-save function that tends to freeze Word up. Possibly interrupting a serious writing fit.

Check this out:

With Google Docs, it’s far easier (for me, anyway) to highlight notes, add bullets, change things up, etc. (I can’t explain why I’ve had such a hard time doing this on Word, but I have.)

For me, this is so much fun. When I’m writing, I don’t have to worry about the load time between Word windows and such. It makes taking notes about characters, changes I want to make, ideas about future events, etc. so easy to create and save…. it’s practically a slut. I get all I want for free, at that! I never have to pay for any of these services. I feel like a John that scampered off satisfied with a full wallet!

This is my play time, as much as my work time.

Everyone should find something they love and figure a way to incorporate this into their novel-writing.

For example, if you love staring at abstract art, find ways of bringing it either into the writing or into the act of writing. If this were my favorite hobby, I would start each writing session by searching for new art work, one page at a time per session. Picking one fave from the very first page of results I get, setting that as my new desktop back ground and using that picture to set the mood for writing that day.

Remember, no one ever said your novel had to be written like this…

Or:

I’ve separated my novel into single chapter docs. To help with the editing process, so I don’t get overwhelmed looking at all those words to edit.

Also because each chapter has a different flavor, vibe and focus. Each chapter, or so I’ve always believed, should have its own identity as well as being part of the whole.

Part of why I adore Google Docs is because this process is so easy… again… I feel like a John that cheated his hooker!

To reiterate, Guideline #1: Find a way to bring what you love into your writing. No matter how silly or weird, or downright dumb you might think it is, it will do you and your novel good if you’re enjoying writing it.

Guideline #2

Keep it Simple.

Remember yesterday’s blog about talent and practice? If you don’t, click here.

I was reading an article about Writer’s Block and how there’s no such thing. The author of this article, a Robert Gregory Browne, suggests that there is no such thing as writer’s block.

Real writer’s need to write. They need to put words down like mega-athletes need to drink gatorade.

The simple solution to getting past a writing hiatus?

The A.I.C. Method

Ass

In

Chair

Keep it Simple. Sit down and write. Whatever it is, no matter how bad or off topic or totally unrelated to the words you’ve already written, just sit down and write.

The longer you sit there and write, the sooner the words you want will start coming.

As you write, don’t worry about flowery prose. Don’t worry about getting that just right word. Don’t hesitate because you don’t want to repeat “suddenly” in the same paragraph.

This is just your Rough Draft. This is the version you’re going to literally rip to shreds before showing it to the light of day.

If you’re going to hesitate writing the version you are unlikely to show to anyone but the most trusted of pre-readers, you’re ten times more likely to hesitate when submitting your finished 10th draft for consideration.

Don’t fear being dumb, silly, too wordy, repetitive, un-literary, humorous, scary, prideful, and etc., etc., etc.

If you can’t get the words out first, you’ll never get the chance to edit them.

So keep it simple. Put your Ass In your Chair. Set your hands to the keyboard and write. Make a word count goal. Something you can do easily, at first. Like when you first start an exercise program. Start small, work your way up bigger.

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Wow. Those are the only guidelines I can think of.

Keep it Fun.

Keep it Simple.

Steady goes the tortoise. It’s not a race to win, it’s a race to finish. Enjoy the scenery as you get there. Smell the flowers, watch the clouds. Talk to people.

You’ll only write your first novel once. You’ll want it to be an experience you can remember, as well as be proud of.

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RANDOM PARANOID FEAR OF THE DAY #76

That someone who knows me too well will jump out of the closet and make horrible duck sounds at me. I have an outrageously silly and terrifying fear of ducks.

And sorry about #195. I messed up the point-of-view in it. I should have written it in first person point-of-view (including “me” instead of “you,” which is second person point-of-view). My deepest apologies. I won’t correct it. I’ll let my mistake stand.

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If this has helped you any, or you just want to call me out as the fool I am, drop a comment below!

Excerpt from Corporate Curmudgeon, Dale Dauten, dated July 20, 2009

…Geoff Colvin, author of “Talent Is Overrated: What Really Separates World-Class Performers from Everybody Else.” As you’d guess from the “really” in the title, Colvin argues that IQ and innate ability are less important than you’d think, and that hard work is the real determinant …but not just any old work – only what he calls “deliberate practice.”

For instance, research at a German school for violinists divided 18-year-olds into three groups based on performance/potential. The researchers examined every variable that might explain the differences in the three groups, including estimating the number of hours they’d practiced throughout their young lifetimes. The highest group had put in 7,410 hours, the middlers had 5,301 and the stragglers had 3,420.

That led to a conclusion, the secret nobody really wants to hear, that thousands of hours of practice are what separates the best. However, as I mentioned, it isn’t just any old practice that counts – it’s methodically working on getting better. Colvin tells us that a study of ice-skaters finds that the mediocre ones spend most of their practice time working on jumps they can already do, while the great ones spend time working on ones they can’t, falling over and over. As Colvin puts it, “Landing on your butt on cold, hard ice is what progress is all about.”

So here we are. The plain, ugly, and unvarnished truth.

The only way to get better isn’t to just practice — you have to practice that stuff you don’t know how to do yet.

Here’s our dilemma as writers, folks.

We tend to write what we know. Not in that write-what-you-know-because-that’s-familiar sense. An example of which is: If you’re a plumber in your day job, write a story about a plumber in space if you write sci-fi.

No, what I’m talking about is sticking to your usual genre. Or sticking to writing single POV, either with a main character from your gender or with your background, etc. (For example: Stephen King’s Main Characters are usually writers. A lot of other writers believe this to be lazy writing. I might agree, except that it certainly makes the writing easier if you’re not spending agonizing hours researching something you just don’t know.)

In my own case, ironically, most of my Main Characters are male. (I can’t explain why. I just subconsciously create male characters to be the leads in my stories. I’ve written only a few female centered stories. Perhaps this explains why I’m not published more often….. Hmmmm…….. This requires deeper thinking.)

We should be stepping out of our safety zones. We should be writing stuff we never have the gall to write about before.

Write about Main Characters who’ve done things you’ve never experienced. Take it to places you’ve never been. Write more dialogue, less description. Be brave and bold in your writing.

These things are difficult to master. These things may even still require some research, talking to people who have the kind of experiences you’re writing about, so on and so forth.

But that’s what real practice is about. Doing the thing you can’t do, over and over, until you finally nail it.

Here’s where we need to define ourselves as writers.

I am already working on this. I’m tackling a novel, which I’ve never done before, but am making sure the experience is worthwhile and plain old fun. On top of that, I’m writing stories of a type I’ve never written before.

Remember, it’s not enough to just think outside the box…. sometimes you have to play outside, too.

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RANDOM PARANOID FEAR OF THE DAY # 195

That one day as you’re walking out of the bathroom, you’ll look down to find a ceramic kid’s clown has attached itself to your leg… and is climbing up!

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Okay, the next blog will be Part 2 of my Writer’s Online Tool Box series, featuring online market databases.

As a writer, I need access to my current work-in-progress (hereafter addressed as WIP). You never know where you’ll be when the mood to write strikes you, much like a lightning bolt could always pick your car that one fateful night on the road.

I generally carry a journal for these writing emergencies. It’s a magical one that I believe passed along a newer, much more productive Muse. Also, it’s bulky, heavy and wrapped in wood, bound with leather. (An expensive gift that I love very much. Thanks, Kristen!)

If the mood really strikes, then there’s no way my hands can possibly keep up with what’s racing around my head. I just can’t write that fast. But I do type that fast, so if I’m really getting whipped by my Muse, I turn to a computer – any computer – in reach.

Here is where we find a major dilemma.

While most of the United States is, for the most part, tech-savvy, I still meet people who have no idea what a flash drive is. (A flash drive is a small device you can carry around, plugs into the USB port on your computer and stores information.)

I had never considered using a flash drive to store my stories, those active and completed, until a friend of mine suggested it. My poor, abused flash drive goes with me everywhere. The day it’s not in my purse is a rare one.

In its journeys with me, we’ve learned that sometimes carrying the WIP on a flash drive is down right frustrating.

First, there’s the wait while the computer acknowledges the flash drive, pretends to need the software in order to use it, etc. Then there’s the Crap-the-stupid-thing-didn’t-save-properly-last-time-and-I’m-missing-half-the-story issue.

Beneath it all is the lurking fear that you’ll drop your bag/briefcase/purse/wherever-you-keep-your-gizmos, and somehow permanently mangle the drive so it never loads again.

Through it all, you know that one day, you will have to buy another flash drive. It will run out of space, sooner or later.

There is a solution to these obstacles, though. As writers, I think we’ve underestimated the value (and distraction) of the Internet.

My favorite web service of all time is Google.

Why, you ask?

Because Google doesn’t play. The wonderful people at Google spend all their waking time on the Internets trying to find ways of making our lives easier. (Recently they released a new browser, designed specifically by them, called Google Chrome. Check it out. It is awesome.)

Not too long ago, they released what is essentially an Open-Source Word Processor ….. Online.

They call it Google Documents.

When I say that it is one of the most incredible, mind-blowing gifts I have been given as a writer, I am not joking around.

Through Google Documents, I have complete, secure access from any location to every single one of my documents. (Permitted I have uploaded them already.) I can pull up a story in a new window or tab, do some writing, quickly pull up a blank document if I feel like making notes as I write, and if necessary, pull up another tab to do some fast research. All within a single browser. All at a fairly decent speed.

The best part?

The possibility of Google Documents crashing is ridiculously minimal. (Though I would never inherently trust Google to fight to the death to save a little nobody newb’s writing. I do back-up what I put on Google, though I feel secure enough not to do it every day.)

They also offer you INFINITE space for every document you imagined you would write/work on.

Not only that, they also have templates for other projects (ranging from spreadsheets to resumes), you can “allow” outsiders to peer at your work, regardless of whether or not they have a Google account. They can edit, offer comments, make up a new part of the story, whatever.

The only thing that hinders you with Google Docs is your own imagination and paranoia. (That thing when you save 4 copies in different places and still worry about losing the whole shebang.)

I personally find Google’s organizational options to be more than satisfying. I can make as many folders as I want/need, rename at will and change label colors.

My only complaint is that Google Docs is falling behind as far as format goes. While writing, I tend to do so in block paragraphs, justified left, with an extra space between. In order to submit, that seemingly neat set of words must be double-spaced, tab indented, with zero extra lines between paragraphs. (Not to mention, headers and a cover page.) Here is where I’ve found my only problem. Google Docs at this time does not allow a lot of these changes. (It will probably change in the future.) So you will still need to copy/paste the WIP to a new doc and alter the format to suit your market’s needs.

Writer’s Tip #47: Once you have correctly formatted a story in standard manuscript format (see an example here), save it twice – once as your story, the other as a Correct Format Template. Then all you’ll need to do is copy/paste your future stories into the template and alter headers, title and byline, etc. as needed.

Also keep in mind that some markets chose to do things differently. Always read your markets guidelines before submitting!

So if you haven’t tried Google Documents yet, get yourself over there. It’s perfect for those times when you’re visiting family or friends and are, for whatever reason, unable to use your flash drive or whichever preferred method of keeping your stories close by.

I personally find the folders, labels, colors and infinite organization to be my favorite part. It’s far easier to move stories from folder to folder, or rename them in seconds, and so on and so forth. Imagine it as a gigantic filing cabinet, and you’ll never run out of file folders!

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Here we come to the end of The Writer’s Tool Box – Online. I hope I’ve offered some interesting tidbits and maybe some helpful advice.

Look forward to another installment next week. We’ll tackle the various websites online where writers can find markets to submit to. As well as any other ideas that jump into my head.

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As for other cool gadgets online, I just found an extension on Flock (my chosen web browser) that allows me to create and save screenshots of anything. (Where’d you think the screenshot of my Google Docs came from?)

It’s really cool and so easy to use, even I have no trouble. Check out Flock and their amazing extensions/add-ons.

I love playing with my gizmo.

If you haven’t already, stop by Myspace and add me as a friend. Just click the shot of my profile above.

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One more shot before we close the bar….

Talent in cheaper than table salt. What separates the talented individual from the successful one is a lot of hard work.
Stephen King

I’m still up, despite an early morning wake up call, because I was working on a flash fiction (which is 1000 words or less) for a friendly contest among writers. . . . that ended up turning into an over 4000 word short story.

Yes. It is awesome, I know.

Now, with a head full of accomplishment (and if I were to be honest, a bit of narcissism, but who said I was being honest?), I find myself lacking in the tired and overflowing with the “what can I write next?”

Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue. If this were any other night of the summer, this would have ZERO bearing on my inability to sleep. I could stay up until I did get tired and then sleep in some and be A-OK.

Except I need to get the car in the morning so I can haul the laundry to my Mom’s house to wash it (haven’t gotten a washer/dryer for the new digs yet) and Mom has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, and I’m not letting Mom drive my stepdad’s Jeep around in 100 plus degree weather without an A/C to keep her brain from imploding.

So. Hence my dilemma.

Since I can’t really stay up to do anymore writing (I’ve already edited the finished story a bit and will look for a place to submit it tomorrow) I figured I’d run by here, say a few words and then head on to bed.

Here it is.

A FEW WORDS.

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See? Told you. Just a few words.

Aside from that, I wanted to pass on a link to you all that I find helps me fill the empty moments when no one else is online and you can’t bear the thought of taking another quiz/playing a dumb flash game/staring at Twitter and wondering why you aren’t wittier/etc. anymore.

Check out Ill Will Press. It’s a hilarious site where a guy makes little flash cartoons and comic strips about an angry squirrel named Foamy, his assorted crazy squirrel friends and a goth chick named Germaine.

Just believe me. It is funny.

In fact, I just got done watching a toon that summed up my view on horror movies completely. (But only if you’re listening to the squirrel, not the human.) It’s called “Horror Flick Chicks” and for a quick link, click HERE.

Yes. You should click and watch. If not, you are missing out on the funniness.

(That is a made-up word. I will one day have it copyrighted, for it is mine!)

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So….. yeah. That’s all I’ve got. It’s nearing 3 a.m. I’m finally getting a wee bit tired, which is magnificent. I need some rest. My fingers are worn out.

I’ll leave you with a taste of Ill Will Press. It’s funny.

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Oh, and I will be back tomorrow. Got a blog to write about writing. The craft of said art form, not more of this junk above.

Isn't it pretty?

So my super-IT hubby has been playing around with our desktop. Found an interesting new program called “Fences” that you can use to clean up your desktop. See all those neat gray squares above? They are quite literally fences, adjustable and vanish with a double-click–kind of like a cowboy round-up for the icons cluttering your desktop. Beautiful, organized and customizable. I have no idea where to find it, but if you google “Fences computer program” you might find it yourself.

In the end, I bring this up because the desktop has been on the fritz – internets wise. When it is working, I am too tired to blog. When it’s not working, I am struck with a plethora of ideas to blog about. Crappy kind of deal. But my sister in law has finally brought us her old laptop–which she has been kind enough to give to us–and it manages to siphon a decent connection .. wait, did I say siphon? I mean.. it creates a magical, unknown internet connection that I can use to go online.

Yes. Magical.

Here I am once again. Ready to blog my little freckled heart out.

***

I’ve been reading like mad with the internets not working. I’ve decimated a couple Bentley Little books, some Richard Laymon’s, a J. F. Gonzalez novel and a few miscellaneous others. I’m currently grinding deliciously slowly on Neil Gaiman’s “American Gods.” I’ve heard so much about this book, I was hesitant to pick it up. I didn’t want to read it and end up disappointed somehow. Thankfully, Gaiman is every bit the author he is made out to be (as though I didn’t already know that) and while I’m only a couple chapters in so far, it’s already been an amazing ride.

Soon there will be a couple of book review blogs. Look forward to those. Especially one of the Laymon books. I was shocked by part of the novel–but in a completely, “just WOW” kind of way.

***

For the writing news, my novel is chugging along.

You know how they always say that when you’re writing a novel, you shouldn’t set it aside to work on whatever totally cool and much better idea occurs to you? Well, I knew that would happen. Even some of my longer short stories had other ideas intrude on their intimate time with the right half of my brain.

But I’ve already noted down about 3 different ideas for novellas or full length novels. If I’d known it would take starting a novel to get ideas for other works, then I would’ve started the novel seriously a long time ago.

Huh. Who’d a thought.

***

Now, when it comes to writing stories, I always try to keep things realistic. You know, can’t have something completely, totally outrageous happen to your characters, otherwise you lose your readers because they know it’s completely unbelievable.

But something completely outrageous did happen to me just Sunday night. Something I didn’t think would happen to me–that my kids were too old to make this kind of mistake.

Yeah, never underestimate your 4 year old.

So, Sunday evening, the kids are running around, playing a combination hide and seek, knights vs. dragons game. I am in the living room, relaxing with a can of Coke and the television. Ah, the most evil of sirens.

The kids disappear into the kitchen for a second–I assume to head back outside for a last five minute play before the sun goes down.

Suddenly, my daughter comes running into the living room, mouth hanging open, semi-crying and doing her “OMG this is awful!” jig. A wiggly, wormy type of shaking/dancing that I’m torn between laughing at and worrying about.

She’s pointing at her tongue, and I barely understand the garbled mess of words fleeing her mouth. I make out just, “Tastes bad,” “cookies” and “burns.”

Now I’m scared and confused, so I race her into the kitchen again to rinse her mouth out. She’s gargling and spitting into the sink, all the while I’m asking her what she put in her mouth, did she swallow anything.

Michael, my dearly beloved soon to be in kindergarten 5 year old son, is pointing to some bits of white, creamy looking stuff that’s crumbled on the kitchen floor. He says, “Alex took a bit of that because it looks like the inside of a cookie.”

I realize, immediately, what it is.

It’s deodorant. Unfortunately, a used deodorant that has been sitting on the extra table in the kitchen, awaiting disposal or putting away.. Hey, we just moved a couple.. uh.. months ago and sometimes it’s hard enough taking the kids to school, keeping up with laundry, dishes, cooking, vaccumming.. let alone sorting out the piles of unpacked junk — or semi-unpacked junk lying around.

Well, for whatever sad or sorry reason the deodorant was on the table, she took a big bite out of it. Spit it out immediately–rinsed her mouth out very well and then brushed her teeth.

And complained later that it looked just like the inside of her Oreo cookies.

Yup. That’s the kind of outrageous circumstance I would generally avoid writing about in a story. But since it’s happened… well.. I have to wonder…

Anyone else’s kids mistake deodorant for the cream inside of a cookie?

One. Two. Three.

The third time the lock clicked relief spilled over her. Now the door was really locked.

She walked down the hall, almost reaching the next door, when she turned back and ran to hers. Her hand was splayed open in front of her, stretched towards the knob. The metal was cool, smooth against the roughness of her palm.

Need to make sure I lotion every nig…

The knob spun easily under her hand and the door opened.

Wait, that was locked. Wasn’t it?

She pulled the door closed, stuck her key in the lock and hesitated. Was the lock broken? But it was so shiny and new. Bright brushed steel against the black backdrop of her door. It looked shiny and new, but she couldn’t be sure about that. She hadn’t lived in the building long—just under six months. And she’d never looked closely at any of the other locks and knobs. She spent too much time obsessing over hers to even consider giving those more than cursory glance.

Well, nothing for it but to investigate another door’s lock and see if it was the same shiny, clean brushed metal or dingier, worn. Used.

She cringed.

But she had a plan now and there was no going back. She turned her key in the lock, turned it back, locked it again. Turned it back. Locked it once more. Three times. Unfortunately, she couldn’t test it to be sure it was secure. She felt the urge. Her right arm was aching with the need to grab the knob and spin it once, but it would break the pattern and that was unforgivable. She’d have to redo her entire morning if that happened.

She bit her lip and walked down the hall, heading towards the door—her usual direction. She fought the urge to run back and check, even though this was the time she usually did. It had to wait until she got a peek at the other door’s lock and knob. Her eyes were glued to the floor. She counted the tiles between her door and the closest neighbor’s. It soothed the ache that wanted to run and check the door. Quieted the moaning voice begging her to go back.

Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

Thirteen.

Not good. There was the door to her right. But thirteen? She couldn’t turn and look up now. She hopped a small step forward to the next tile. Fourteen. It left her a little off, but that was better than turning on thirteen.

She lifted her eyes, taking in the worn paint on the door. The cracks through which she could see the red of the original wood. The doorjamb was banged up a bit. Seemed this neighbor was careless entering their apartment. It partially explained the sometimes loud bangs and curses she’d hear.

Above her focus a gray object floated. She took a deep breath, steeled herself and looked up. She was expecting a grimy, fingerprint coated greasy slimy sticky knob that would be crying for a good cleaning but instead there was just the average door knob. It was the same as hers. Gray brushed steel, although this had a few scratches from the owner stabbing the lock with the key. Poor thing. The average person had no idea the kind of power in ritual, much less to be careful doing anything.

She wanted to touch the knob, brush the deepest scratch with the tip of her finger. Reassure it that its pain wasn’t forever. Maybe one day someone like her would come along for this apartment and would treat the lock right. Would leave and enter the right way—three times in, three times out.

But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Partly because her therapist had told her that these inanimate objects couldn’t feel and didn’t care how many times she did something—so obviously the lock wasn’t really weeping at its careless use—and that if she continued to believe that they were in some way appreciative of her careful maneuvers, she would be admitted.

Well, Mrs. Grange hadn’t exactly told her that, but she knew that’s how it would be. That’s what it always came down to, didn’t it? She could function in society, but believing that inanimate objects understood the ritual far better than another intellectual creature could was tantamount to heresy. She knew it would end in forced committal. She’d seen it happen to others. At least, she thought so. It was difficult for her sometimes to separate fact from fiction, but one of the times she’d seen someone committed on television had to be for a similar offense. It was a matter of statistics, probability. Not fact or fiction.

Either way, the lock looked as new as hers. So her lock couldn’t possibly be broken. Well, it was possible it was broken, but highly unlikely.

Through her thoughts barreled the urge, the need to run back to her apartment. Nowadays she could do that, but since she’d counted the tiles to this door…

Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Crap. Fourteen.

She wasn’t centered on the door, but the urge was strong enough to counter her normal hysterics. Her hand reached for the knob, a rush of adrenaline filled her—one, two, three, she countered in her head, one, two, three—her fingers connected and a spark of energy flashed between the metal and her skin. The shock ran down her arm and she almost jumped onto tile thirteen. But she wasn’t that careless, not like some people. She kept her balance.

The knob beneath her fingers began to turn and the door popped open.

All her work had been undone. She’d have to start the entire day over again.

A scream waited in her throat, hiding underneath the lump of fear that lurked there. Starting the day over would be agony. Doing everything again. The three eggs for breakfast, three perfect pours from the coffee pot. She still drank coffee, even if the caffeine was bad for her—or so said the therapist. Exactly three sprites of hairspray per lock, three twists per bobby pin (and oh how it hurt).

Her eyes scanned the room, difficult to do with the strange angle the fourteenth tile put her in, but she could see well enough to pick up the VCR’s blinking light. And time. It was 5:45 PM.

What?

She glanced down at the lock and realized immediately what the problem had been. It locked to the right, not the left. She was unlocking it the entire time.

The hallway was empty, thankfully, as she knelt down on tile fourteen and tried not to cry. All that stress was balled inside her and she didn’t have any other way to let it go. She took the keys, still in her hands, and pulled the sharp edges three times down her forearm. The blood welled, but didn’t drip.

She walked into her apartment, careful to avoid the thirteenth tile. She set her purse down on the table and walked into the kitchen. Pulled nine paper towels off the rack and put three to each scratch on her arm.

When her arm was cleaned up, she went into the living room, sat at the coffee table and pulled out her post it notes. She wrote three notes and posted them on the front door.

“Left for coming, right for going.”