Oh No! The Year 2012

12/30/2011 , , 0 Comments

So this Sunday is going to be January 1st 2012.

What a trip, huh?

It seems like just the other day we were going into the year 2000.

Do you remember how freaked out some people were about the whole Y2K oh-my-God-everything-is-going-to-shut-down craze?

I do.

My sister-in-law’s husband’s mom (did you get that?) had spent five grand or more on end-of-the-world provisions.

Fast forward 12 years later, the scare is happening again.

There are people who actually have underground shelters stocked with food and water because they believe something drastic is going to happen in 2012 to where the world is going to be hurtin’ for certain.

If you take into account, prophecies for 2012, it does make one wonder if there’s any truth to it because more than one person had some serious predictions for this coming year, like the Mayans, Nostradamus, the Hopi Indians, etc.

Did you know the Mayans’ predictions don’t stop at 2012?

I didn’t know that until recently.

The Mayans’ predictions actually go all the way to 4772 A.D.

When I was a kid, I thought the Mayans’ 2012 prediction had meant the end of humanity.

Silly, huh?

Supposedly, something big is going to happen on December 21, 2012 because of all the cosmic crap heading our way.

Like what?

Um, let’s see . . .

A polar shift. Violent solar activity. Planetary alignment of Venus.

Those were a few I’d heard about.

If that’s not worrisome enough, apocalyptic disaster is again, supposedly going to be unleashed upon us: hurricanes, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, floods, and droughts. And If the solar flares hits earth with great force and power, everything will be shut off–power, cell phones, computers. We might end up living like our great grandparents had lived, which to be honest, might be a good thing for all of us in the long run.

So are you scared?

*flashes you a silly grin*

Don’t be because honestly, I think it’s a bunch of nonsense. There may be some truth to it, but not enough to fret over. I’ll admit though, it would be pretty cool to have a secret bunker stocked with end-of-the-world provisions and gear.

I know. That sounds weird coming from a girl, especially when she’s barely 5 feet tall. But I love military surplus gear and to know how to survive off the land. I have a book called, ‘S.A.S. Survival Guide’. S.A.S. stands for, special air service. It’s an elite unit of the British Army. The book is awesome.

Anyway, I’m not worried about it, or caught up in all the hoopla. I figure if any of this does come true, so be it.

I’m not afraid of dying.

What I’m truly afraid of, is not living the life I want and accomplishing the things I’ve been working towards, before I die.

Right now, it seems like I’m standing on the edge of a precipice, where there are some decisions I have to make that will more than likely, push me over that edge. I just hope where I fall and end up is in a good place (butterflies and flowers) and not a bad place (dark and dreary).

So, no. I’m not scared of possible disasters, violence, and mayhem, striking our world. What I’m scared about is much worse than that. However, regardless of everything, I’m going to step into the new year with a hopeful smile on my face, and trust in my heart instead of fear of the unknown. I think that’s what we should all do.

Don’t you?

Because in all truth, we never know what tomorrow might bring. Sure, it might be the same as yesterday, or worse, but it could also be something totally awesome.

We just don’t know.

It’s like getting a present each day–we don’t know what kind of present we’re going to get until we wake up and live that day.

Does that make sense?

That’s one of the beauties about life–you just don’t know.

Well, I’m rambling so I better end this post before it gets waaaay out-of-hand.

I hope all of you have a happy and safe new year. :)


A Bundle of Thoughts

12/26/2011 , , 1 Comments

Hey! Did everybody have a wonderful holiday? Mine was fine. It was just Kevin and I because our family is in Arizona and Ohio, but it was great to just hang out and not have to be anywhere or do anything.

During the weekend, I worked on chapter nine to my ‘Beyond the Eyes’ series. It seems to me this book is taking a lot longer to write than the other two. I’m discovering it’s a lot harder to write, which kind of frustrates me because I have this sense of urgency to get it done; however, I don’t want to half ass it. In fact, I won’t half ass it because it’s not in my nature to do so, and I love the characters and story. I am having fun writing it, even though it’s taking longer than I thought it would to write.

I was wondering the other day if it’s too presumptuous of me to write a series when I don’t even have an agent, and these were the thoughts that followed that one. . . .

Thought # 1.) You should have written a stand-alone novel because now you would have had two completely different novels finished, which would have given you a better chance at finding an agent to represent your work.

Thought # 2.) More than one person has told you to make this a series because they liked/loved the story and wanted more of it.

Thought # 3.) Every time I thought about making the first novel a stand-alone one, it didn’t feel right. I got this weird, sickening gut feeling, whenever I had contemplated that.

Thought # 4.) Listen to the gut feeling and trust in it.

Thought # 5.) What’s the worst that can happen?

(Mini thoughts spawning off of thought # 5)

A.) I don’t get an agent and publisher for this series.

B.) I self-publish them.

C.) I was completely wrong about the market for a book such as mine, and it didn’t sell as well as I thought.

D.) I wasted years on a 3-book series that went nowhere.

Um, I have to admit, C & D are thoughts that sometimes haunt me.

I hate those scary thoughts, but I’m comforted in the fact that most, if not all writers share in those same thoughts. And when those thoughts raise their ugly little heads, I read this to help me through it. . . .

Risk is the hinge on which productivity turns; if we aren’t in danger of failing, we aren’t growing. When we let fear, prevent us from taking steps that could bring our writing dreams closer, we limit our opportunities to succeed.

I’d read that somewhere on the internet, so I can’t take credit for it. However, it’s so true and helps me through those doubtful, dark times. Also, I think in all honesty, the years I’ve spent writing those books weren’t a waste of time. The reason why I think that is because the more I write, the better I become.

So, no, it wasn’t a waste of time.

It’s not a waste of time.

Not really.

And the thing is, I believe in this story and in myself.

Where is that going to take me?

I don’t know.

I don’t know if it’s the luck of the draw, if our life is already predestined, if we create everything in our life, or if it’s none of the above and something entirely different. All I know is, if I give up, then I should just lay down and die because I can’t stop writing stories, or not believing in my dreams, or not trying to better myself and life.


I mean, really. What’s the point in being here then?


Dreams a Continuation

I was going to write this post last night, but I had a Christmas party to go to.

We dined in a large room at a restaurant /sports bar type facility. After we finished eating, one of the mechanics mentioned parts, and I piped up with a story. Ironically enough, it was about dreaming.

I told them one night Kevin was talking in his sleep, rattling off part numbers, so I asked him (just to see what he’d say) how he knew so much about parts.

In a proud, almost smug voice he said, "Because I’m the shit!"

As everybody in the room busted out in laughter, Kevin leaned next to me and in good humor whispered in my ear. "I’m never going to live this down, ya know."

Probably not, but I thought it was cute and a testament to how hard he works, and his phenomenal memorizational skills.

I mean, seriously. He blows me away with how much he can remember.

Anyway, I was talking about dreams in my last post and was on a roll, so I’m going to see if I can get there again.

While I was doing research on dreams for my book, I was surprised to have discovered there was a civilization in Mesopotamia, which is now part of Iraq, that had existed 5,000 BC whom scientists believe left behind the world’s first book of dreams. The Sumerians believed the gods sent signs to them through their dreams.

The Egyptians also created their own dream book and believed their dreams were messages from the gods as well. They actually got many of their ideas from the Sumerians.

The Greeks also tried to interpret their dreams.

Socrates had a dream vision about going to Pythia–a Priestess who took care of the Oracle at Delphi. Socrates believed his dream meant that he’d be sentenced to death, and he’d go freely to it. And as we know, his prediction came true.

I think dreams have always baffled mankind because it’s an enigma.

Yeah, today we have scientific explanations, mechanically speaking, on dreaming, like there are five different sleep cycles we go through a night, and the average person spends 90 minutes in a dream state. They also know during REM there’s a high level of brain activity, and had determined that stage was associated with dreaming.

I’ve read lengthy articles on scientific data on what happens when we sleep, and why we dream. I think personally though, it’s two separate issues.

Do you know what I mean?

Scientists have proven, when we sleep our body goes through detoxification and repairs itself.

But what about our dreams?

Scientifically speaking, the thalamus and the cerebral cortex are responsible for most thought processes, and are active while we sleep. But even knowing that, scientists don’t have a definitive answer to why we dream. Some people say to organize the brain, to help solve problems, or to cope with trauma. But there are flaws in those theories, so honestly, we don’t really know.

Edgar Cayce believed our deceased friends and family members occasionally visit us in our dream state. Others believe we go to the spirit world every night when we’re asleep.

This is what I think. . . .

We have the body, spirit, and mind.

The body needs to rest and rejuvenate itself. Science has proven that. Also, we all know what happens if we don’t get enough sleep.

So yeah. That one is a given.

The spirit needs the same thing–rejuvenation. So maybe (I say maybe because I can’t prove it) our spirit disconnects, from the body, during our sleep, and rejuvenates itself in the spiritual realm(s).

Our physical body needs food to keep it going, so maybe our spirit travels to the astral planes to keep it going inside the human vessel.

Just a thought.

The mind, on the other hand, is constantly at play. The conscious and subconscious mind is part of the human machine, whereas the superconscious mind is our spiritual mind. So when our spirit disconnects from the body, it leaves behind the conscious and subconscious mind, allowing it to run its programs.

It’s like we’re dealing with two separate entities, and one splits from the other when we sleep. When they reconnect, and we wake up, we sometimes remember the spiritual journey, like visiting a loved one, that was too vivid and real to shake off. But most of the time, we remember these crazy, weird ass dreams. And then there are other times when these crazy, weird ass dreams seem to intertwine with a spiritual encounter.

Maybe that happens because the superconscious mind gets jumbled up with the subconscious, which confuses the conscious mind.

Or maybe I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. LOL.

I don’t know, but it’s cool trying to figure it out and bounce ideas out there. Because seriously, it’s a good way to evolve beyond the perimeters of normal, mundane thought. Also, if you’re a writer or involved in the creative arts, it’ll enrich your work.

So on that note, I better end this post.

Happy Friday!



12/12/2011 , , 0 Comments

Last Sunday morning I woke up at 3:20 a.m. and had the sudden urge to go downstairs and write.

Did I do that?



Because the bed was warm and snuggly, and I didn’t wanna. So I laid there and thought, maybe I should because I’d heard if you woke-up at 3:30 in the morning, it was because the Universe was trying to tell you something.

It’s silly, I know.

Anyway, I ignored that urge and began drifting in and out of sleep for a while. Finally, I was able to reach that full-out dreaming stage, only to be jostled and woken up by Kevin getting out of bed.

"Sorry. I was trying not to wake you," he said, glancing over his shoulder at me.

I waved it off and told Kevin, it was okay, even though I was in the middle of a vivid dream and wanted to know what was going to happen next.


Don’t you hate when that happens?

I do because it’s like watching a show you’re interested in and the TV station goes out right in the middle of it.

I wonder though, if sometimes your dreams are messages or predictions about your life, given to you from an outside source. If so, that dream I was having contradicts the other dreams I’ve been having lately.

Maybe I’m reading too much into it. I guess I’ll find out in the near or distant future whether it meant anything or not.

Yesterday I was doing some research for my next chapter on dreams. Through my research I discovered that there are people who believe in dream walking. It’s when you enter somebody else’s dream and interact with them. They say you do it through lucid dreaming, which is when you’re aware you’re dreaming.


I never knew that.

Sure, I’ve thought about entering other people’s dreams. In fact, sometimes when Kevin and I go to sleep, he’ll tell me he’ll dream about me, and I tell him I’ll see him there. But now I wonder if you can actually do that.

Hmmmm. *scratches head with a perplex look on her face*

Who knows, right?

There are so many things we don’t know about, and I think it’s important to always keep an open-mind because if you don’t, you might be missing out on some pretty awesome stuff.

Anyway, dreams are a mystery.

Yeah, it’s a way to reboot our software, and for our mind to release all the superfluous crap floating around in there. But I wonder if our spirit disconnects, from the body and travels to the other realms. Ancient Chinese tradition believes that.

Did you know the Greeks had dream temples? People would go there to find guidance for their life. They’d do a purification ritual before entering the temple, and then after they had awoken from their dream, they’d consult with the temple’s dream interpreters.

All of this is interesting, and I can see as my fingers keep wanting to type more information about this subject, I’m going to have to do another post just on the mystery of dreams. Right now this post is starting to take on a life of its own, so I better stop here, but I’m not through with this discussion.

Just so ya know. I can talk for hours about this stuff because I’m fascinated with everything paranormal. So until next time. Have a merry Monday. :)


A Silly Poem

12/09/2011 , , 0 Comments

Another week has gone by, and as I sit here sipping my coffee, I’m thinking about a poem I had written last weekend, just for shits and giggles.

When I was a teenager, I had notebooks full of poems and stories I had written. I even had a poem published in Quill Books, but honestly, I’m not a poet. I’m a novelist. I’ve had articles published as well, but writing stories is my passion.

Anyway, I wrote this poem and totally cracked myself up. I’ll tell ya why, and then paste it in here so you can see and hopefully have the same visual as I did when I was giggling at myself.

Yeah, I amuse myself. But that’s a good thing, right? I mean, you’re supposed to be your own best friend and like who you are.

Okay, years ago (back in the early 90s) Kevin and I lived in downtown Prescott, Arizona. It was a wonderful place back then and had sort of a hippy, earthy vibe to it. We used to hangout at this coffee shop called, ‘The Full Moon Cafe'’ where they’d have poetry readings. One night, when Kevin and I were there, a hippy chick stood in the middle of the room and read a poem about being a used piece of gum. Kevin and I still snicker about it because it was so funny. In fact, I even wrote a scene similar to it in ‘Beyond the Eyes’, and I crack myself up every time I read it.

Yeah, I’m a dork. But hey, my critique partners thought that scene was funny as well. So I’m not the only one who finds humor in it.

So when I read this poem, I imagined myself in this cafe', standing in the middle of the room. I’m wearing all black with a beret tilted on top of my head, dramatically reading this poem, and when I reach those three words at the end (not the glass), I say it with harsh emotion.

Here’s the poem. Try to visualize that scene.


She waits with breath that is bated for the tainted glass to clear.
Head bowed, she softly sings hymns to herself.
Popping sounds like cracking ice, spider webs the glass.
Her fingers feverishly worries over beads of crimson tears.
Dawn turns to dusk and dusk turns to night.
Her breath materializes before her, crystalized on a wolf’s ruff.
Still she waits, a skipped record caught in repetitive motion.
The tainted glass never clears, the cracks frozen in place.
Taut skin withers away like a bird shedding feathers.
A radiant light blows through the glass.
She shatters into brilliant colors.
A joyful squeal erupts like gulls gliding toward the horizon.
Understanding blooms in a vast meadow of eternity.
Branded thoughts of others were tainted, not the glass.
Not the glass!

That’s silly, huh?

Or maybe I just have an odd sense of humor. :)

Oh,well. I thought it was funny.

But did you get it?

The tainted glass was her spirit.

But, see? I’m totally not a poet. I’m sure I could be one if I worked at it.

Oh! In an earlier post I had said we were going to get my first live Christmas tree. I was thinking a cute little 3 or 4 foot tree.

Yeah, well, check this out.
Um, it’s not little. It’s like almost 7 feet tall.

Kevin wanted a tall tree, so there you have it.

It’s beautiful though.

As you can see, we still have the old, boxy TV. I refuse to buy a flat screen until this TV takes a crap. I mean, really. This TV works perfectly, and I’m happy with it.

Well, have a good weekend you guys and be safe.



Ghostly Scents

12/07/2011 , , , 0 Comments

I should totally be working on my next chapter, but I hopped on my blog and began editing old posts.


Because I’m a meticulous freak, and I didn’t like the format I had used. There are still some I want to go back and edit, but it’ll have to wait.

I discovered when I was reading posts that I’d already wrote about the mysterious stain I had mentioned a couple posts ago. I had a feeling I already wrote about it, but wasn’t sure until I came across it.

If you haven't read it the post is called, "Another Paranormal Story." The date I posted it was on 08/17/11. I would put a link to it here, but I don't know how to do that.

So since I already wrote about it, I figured I’d write about ghostly scents.

Do you know what I mean about ghostly scents?

It’s a familiar smell that’s associated with the spirit’s human life.

When my great grandpa was alive (technically, he’s more alive now than he was, but I don’t want to get all nit picky about it) he used to smoke a cherry tobacco pipe. After he passed on, his spirit would present itself by filling the room we were in with a thick smell of cherry tobacco.


I remember when I was a teenager; I told my friend James about it. Of course, he totally didn’t believe me and laughed in my face.

I didn’t take offense to it because growing up the way I did; I was used to it. In fact, for years, my friend Jesse used to tease me relentlessly every day at the bus stop about UFOs and aliens. He didn’t do it maliciously, but it did get old after a while.

Anyway, one day James came over my house and the air was thick with the smell of cherry tobacco.

I was like, "See? I told ya so."

Yeah, I had to gloat. Just a little bit.

The next day he told me when he got home, his mom thought he was smoking because she could smell the tobacco on him, and he got in trouble.

Poor, James.

My mom’s dad was an alcoholic, and after he died; he always made his presence known by filling the air with the smell of alcohol.

I know it’s crazy, and I swear I’m not wacky. And I always, always, seek out a logical explanation for things, but the ghostly smells, I can’t explain.

Kevin is a huge skeptic, and it’s not like he doesn’t have an open-mind. He does. But he thinks spirits have better things to do than come back here. Even though, he had experienced the ghostly smells himself.

There had been many times when he’d walk into a room and say, "Man, it smells like a brewery in here."

And then of course I’d say, "It’s grandpa."

Another time was in our car.

Now seriously. Why would our car all of a sudden smell like a brewery when we’re driving down the road?

The only explanation I can come up with is my grandpa wanted me to know he was around.

If those phantom smells only happened once, or maybe even two times, I’d be like, ‘Okay, maybe I’m imagining this, or my sniffer is off, or somebody must have dumped a butt-load of alcohol on the carpet’. But it happened way more than one or two times, and other people had experienced it as well. Therefore, it had to be a ghostly scent.

Am I right?


Merry Monday

Yeah, I know. What’s so merry about Monday? But hey, it’s better than saying miserable Monday, right? And, if you say it’s a merry Monday and act like it’s a merry Monday, it might just turn out to be a merry Monday.

It’s a matter of perspective, changes in attitude, and getting your dopamine juices flowing so you’re feeling gooood. There’s got to be a way to do that, without chemical substances that is. So I’m thinking maybe perspective and change in attitude might trigger it.

Ya think?

I know it gets exhausting to stay on top of having a good perspective and attitude on everything on a daily basis. If only we could control the chemicals in our bodies, life would be a hell of a lot better.

Think about it.

You’re feeling like crap. There’s a knock at the door. You answer it, and . . . OMIGOD! It’s Publisher’s Clearing House, handing you a ten million-dollar check. Do you think you’d still be feeling like crap then?

Hell no!

So why can’t we tap into that chemical and syphon it whenever we want instead of having something exciting happen like PCH coming to our door or whatever to pull us out of our rut?

Do you realize that the human body is nothing but a computerized, chemical machine? It is, and I believe there’s a way to master it. But we’re not going to go there because it’s a deep discussion that should be saved for a quiet night where you’re ready to go down the rabbit hole and put all ideologies aside so your mind is unhampered from the constraints it’s normally under.

Whew! I had to halt myself before my fingers kept pouring out the thoughts that were racing through my mind onto the screen.

Moving along . . .

I’m going to practice having a merry Monday and not think about the fact my roof is still not done.


It’s been what--a month since they started? And it was supposed to have been done two frickin’ months ago. Last Friday the contracter told Kevin he’d be here over the weekend to finish up (they still have two porch roofs to do). But he didn’t show up and now it’s Monday, and he’s still not here.

Aw, crap.

I’m supposed to be practicing having a merry Monday and here I am bitching about the damn roofers.


But hey, I caught it before my frustration level jacked-up. That's a start and a good spot to wish you a merry Monday. :)


I Love Coffee

12/02/2011 , , 0 Comments

I’m not awake yet, it’s almost eight o’clock, and I’m still waiting for the caffeine to kick in (c’mon caffeine!).

Coffee is my friend.

I love coffee.

That’s one of the things I miss since we moved here–coffee shops.

A few years ago, a couple got together and put up one of those coffee shacks where you drive up to the window and tell them what you want ("I’d like a vanilla latte’ please."). But then they moved to Seattle.

*Big sigh*

When I was working at the medical clinic here in town, the girls in my department bought me a cappuccino machine for my birthday.

I had big plans for that machine. I was going to make lots of yummy things with it: vanilla lattes’, chocolate mochas, peppermint mochas . . .

Okay, I’m seriously pining for that now.


What was I saying?

Oh, right. Cappuccino machine. Big plans.

I had big, big, plans for that machine, and even told my coffee loving coworkers, I’d make us some seriously good coffee drinks.


That’s right.

None of that coffee flavor crap where you brew it to get hazelnut or pumpkin spice coffee.


That stuff is nasty.

No. I’d hook us all up with the mouth-watering, so good I almost had an orgasm, stuff.

Yup, it would totally rock.

I even had pictured it in my head. While everybody else would be dragging ass, my coffee buddies and I would be flying through our work and office with a cheshire grin on our face. It would be marvelously fun and wonderful and the day would fly by.

But did it happen?

Hell no.

I quickly discovered when I was making cappuccinos the contraption that made the froth didn’t work. I was so bummed. I even did research on it thinking maybe I was doing something wrong, but I wasn’t. It was the stupid machine.

Oh well.

Hey, I think the caffeine is starting to kick in now. I hope you have a good weekend.



Paranormal Upbringing and Story Writing

I spoke to my dad over the weekend and he told me a magazine called, ‘Open Minds’ wants him to write an article on UFO’s for them, which I think is so cool.

I think I told you guys this in a previous post, but my dad was in an episode about UFOs on the Discovery Channel a few years ago.

When my dad was the Director of the Ohio UFO Investigator League in Fairfield, Ohio, he used to do a lot of interviews and was a key speaker at UFO conventions. He also wrote an investigator’s field manual and said it’s like five-hundred pages long (holy, cow). He told me last week he was thinking about updating it, cutting back the word count, then publishing it. I told him he should, and if he needed any help I’d help him. I think it would be fun to help him with it.

My fascination with all things paranormal I think has to do with the environment I grew up in. Ever since I could remember, I loved writing stories that dealt with the paranormal, thus my ‘Beyond the Eyes’ series. And although my parents had divorced when I was young, the paranormal world remained a constant force in my household.

I’m lucky and appreciate that both my parents are open minded. And although my mom swayed more to the Peter Pan fantasy aspect of it, meaning she fabricated some stories and wasn’t interested in facts, I think I was fortunate to have gained the knowledge she had imparted on me. And the same goes for my dad. Hell, I’m still learning from him, and I love that he goes by facts. One day I’m going to post a story about an investigation he had done on a mysterious blood stain that wouldn’t go away.

Isn’t that cool though?

I mean, seriously. Growing up with parents who were involved with investigating the paranormal was so cool because now I have the experience and knowledge to write and talk about it. So when my books do get published, I have that to share with my readers. Not to mention, it helps me to blend the truth with fiction into my stories (if that makes sense). Because honestly, I love stories that could be plausible–told in such a way that could actually be true. Or, at least make the reader wonder about it. That’s what I think I did with ‘Beyond the Eyes’.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention that my great-aunt, writes for an astrology magazine and is a meditation guide. She once did an astrology reading on me (I think I was 12 at the time), and told me I had the aptitude to become a great writer, which made her happy since she’s a writer. Of course, it made me happy as well. So yeah, maybe one day I’ll become a great writer, and have tons of books published that people will love. That’s one of my all-time goals, and I work at it just about every day, knowing the more I write, the better I’ll become.

Remember that because it’s so true.

The more you write, the better you’ll become.

I should add reading as well, because reading books plays a huge part in becoming a fabulous writer.

Anyway, it makes me happy my parents were never boring and had opened a huge door in my mind to endless possibilities, questions, and possibly a career in writing about it in a fictitious manner.

I’ve read many times to write what you know and love. So if you’re a writer, remember those four things. . .

1.) Write every day.

2.) Read.

3.) Write what you know, or want to know (I say that because there are some things you don’t know much about, but are intrigued enough to learn).

4.) Write what you love.

Bottom line: IT’S. ALL. ABOUT. LOVE. :)


Three Things I Hate About Life

11/25/2011 , , 0 Comments

It’s Friday! I bet some of you have a four-day weekend.


Kevin does, which means we don't have to get up and can sleep in for four-days.


That’s one of the things I hate about life–having to wake up in the morning. Ever since I can remember, I’ve hated having to get up in the morning. I also hate having to go to the bathroom.

Do you know what I mean?

Like having to have to get up in the middle of the night to go and you’re having a totally awesome dream. That sucks ass. Or when you’re on a road trip and have to go, or when you’re watching a movie and have to go, or. . . .


The bathroom thing. . . . Pain. In. The. Ass.

Oh, what about when you don’t want to eat, but you have to because you can feel your blood sugar dropping, and your hands start shaking. And, if you’re like me, you start to get all bitchy.

I hate that.

I hate all three of those things.

Yesterday, I drank a lot of coffee, and felt my blood sugar dropping and a headache coming on. We still had hours before the turkey was done, so I had to grab something to eat. Grumbling to myself, I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, wishing I could continue drinking my coffee until dinner was ready.

I don’t know how people can get away with not eating for days at a time. What’s their secret? I mean, I love food; however, I would like to have the choice on when I want to eat. Unfortunately, that’s not so.

Stupid body chemistry genetic controlling crap.

Anyway, I hope all of you had a Happy Thanksgiving. And those of you not from the U.S., I hope you had a wonderful day yesterday. I assure you, I was thinking about you guys, hoping one day I’ll get to explore your country and experience your culture.

Happy Friday, have a wonderful weekend, and be safe. :)


Mindless Post?

Okay, here’s the post I was telling you about in the last post.

Can you believe Thanksgiving is this Thursday? I can’t. It’s going too quick. And then after you blink, it’ll be Christmas. Not really, but that’s what it seems like, huh?


I don’t even know what we’re going to do for Christmas.

Our Christmas tree got ruined in the basement a couple years ago when the sewer backed up.

Yeah, it was nasty.

I’d never own a house with a basement before, or thought of something like that happening, so it was definitely an experience I never want to relive again. But really, it wasn’t too bad. I mean, yeah, like I said, it was nasty, but there wasn’t a lot of it. We learned from that unfortunate occurrence to have a plumber come once a year to clean out our pipe lines so there are no tree roots obstructing the flow of things, like crap. LOL. So last year we didn’t put up a tree, but this year I told Kevin we should get a live Christmas tree, but a small one, like 3 feet. I’ve never had a live one before. I wonder though, if it’s going to be a pain-in-the-ass because of it shedding pine needles.

Hmmmm. *scratches head while thinking, then shrugs*

Oh well. It’s worth finding out, and I think it’ll be fun picking a live tree out, and then planting it in our yard (hopefully).

So the roofers are halfway done with our roof, but honestly, they should have been done a long time ago. I mean, seriously, they’ll be here all day one day, and then the next day they won’t show up.

No phone call.

No nothing.

In fact, I had to call him last Tuesday morning because he bailed on us for 2 days without a word on when he’d be back. He told me he wasn’t here on Monday because he thought it was going to rain, which I can totally understand, but dude, call me if you’re not going to be here. I can’t wait until this is done and over with. I hate stuff like this looming over my head. But I do have to say, even though this roofer isn’t as reliable as he should be, he’s doing a great job. We chose a brown roof, and so far, it looks fabulous. It’s like a facelift for our house. :)

Right now, I’m working on my third chapter to my third book, and would have had it done over the weekend, but spent it mostly reading and with Kevin instead. I think it’s always important to take some time away from your writing (a day or two) and enjoy life in other ways. Kevin once told me if I started holding conversations with the cat (Church) he would be worried about me and my mental state. LOL. Of course he was kidding, but I understood his underlying point–if I do nothing but sit in front of the computer and stay holed-up in this room for days at a time, I may go nuts. So if I ever write a post that’s nonsensical and bizarre, then you’ll know I haven’t gotten any fresh air and went off the rocker. :)


Short, Sweet, And Funny

11/18/2011 , 0 Comments

I was just writing a blog post about mindless stuff like, omigod, can you believe next week is Thanksgiving, and then Christmas? And what’s going on with my roof, and that yesterday, I had finished the second chapter to my third book–blah, blah, blah. Then I thought, you know what, it’s Friday, and I should make this post short, sweet, and funny. So that’s what I’m going to do. . . .

Every night this week, Kevin and I have been watching Sex and the City, and laughing our butts off. We love, love, love that show and have all the seasons and both movies. Here’s one of the many funny scenes from Sex and the City.

                              HAPPY FRIDAY!


How Did J.K. Rowling Feel?

11/14/2011 , , 0 Comments

Yesterday I felt like crap, and didn’t do any writing. I was so nauseous, I ended up taking a nausea pill I had from a prescription I got from a PA I had worked with 2 years ago.

Yeah, I know. Those pills are old, and I should toss them out. However, I hate throwing up, so I’m holding on to them. I rarely ever feel nauseous enough to take a pill (I hate taking pills), but when I do, I’m thankful I have them.

While lying on the couch yesterday, I thought about J.K. Rowling and wondered how she felt after she wrote the first Harry Potter book and was trying to get it published. I had read that it was a difficult book to sell and it took her agent a year to sell it. I wonder if she had any doubt in her mind during that time, whether a publisher would buy it or not. I know she was struggling financially and raising her daughter on her own, which I’m sure made her feel bleak at times. But what I wonder is, did she ever have any doubts? And what would she have done if her agent couldn’t have sold it? Would she have self-published it?

I was thinking about that yesterday because of my situation. I did hear from an agent a week or so ago, and she told me I write well; however, my story isn’t right for them. She did say she hopes I continue writing and sending out my work, and she gave me an idea on where to look for more agents. I thought it was very sweet of her to take some time out of her hectic schedule, to write me a personal note like that. It also made me feel good that she said I write well.

I still wonder if I’ll find an agent and publisher who will love my book(s) just as much as I do, or if I’ll end up self-publishing this series. Honestly, I’m a little depressed about it today because what if I’m just kidding myself? Yeah, I can self-publish, and my books may do fantastically well. And it’s not like I don’t trust in the Universe to put me where I need to be. I believe that we’re all connected, therefore, the timing has to be right because what happens to me not only effects me, but the people in my life as well . . . But still, I wonder about it, and wonder if J.K. Rowling has ever felt this way.

I did start my third book and finished the first chapter last Friday (Yay). I don’t know how long it’s going to take me to write this book because I still need to do revisions on Dark Spirits. I know it took me I think 5 months to write Dark Spirits because I was still revising, Beyond the Eyes, which that book had only took me 3 months to write. I wish I can be like Amanda Hockings and write a book in 2-4 weeks. That would rock. But I don’t think I’m doing too badly with writing the rough draft of a novel in 3-5 months. It takes me a hell of a lot longer to revise and edit than it takes to write it. I wonder if that’s normal.

Anyway, my third book in the series is called, ‘The Devil’s Third." I’m not sure if I had mentioned that already, but yeah, that’s what it’s called. After this book, I plan to leave the series alone, unless in the future, people want more from the series, which would be cool because this story could go on and on and on, like the House of Night series or the Vampire Diaries. And I wouldn’t mind writing more books for this series because I love my characters, and I honestly believe in this story. Now if only an agent and publisher would feel the same way and see the potential in it, I’d be a happy camper. :)


Dear Veterans

11/11/2011 , , 0 Comments

Dear Veterans,

Thank you for honorably serving our country and sacrificing your life to ensure we’re safe and have the freedoms that we have. Many of you have suffered in unimaginable ways because of your allegiance to America. Dead or alive, you veterans are heros. I’ll never forget what you’ve done, and I’ll always be grateful to you. I truly appreciate it, and send my love to all of you. Thank you and happy Veterans Day.


Rebekkah Ford


Twelve Years Ago and Now

11/08/2011 , , 1 Comments

Okay, this is weird. Check these similarities out. . . .

Twelve years ago we were in a crazy scary apocalyptic like storm where the hail rain upon us so fast and furious that very few people had escape the physical damage it caused. Our skylight in the diningroom, for example, was busted, and we came home to a diningroom full of glass and hail. Kevin had to climb on the roof and tarp it.

This year (twelve years later) we were hit by a crazy, scary tornado, and our roof got damaged, and that same ugly ass blue tarp we had used to cover the gaping skylight hole twelve years ago, is on our roof right now.

Twelve years ago, Kevin’s brother died at the beginning of the year.

This year, my mom died at the beginning of the year.

Twelve years ago, Kevin got a different job.

This year, he also got a different job.

Twelve years ago, Kevin bought a Ford truck.

This year, he also bought a Ford truck.

Isn’t that weird?

I think there are more similarities, but I can’t think of them right now. But twelve years ago was the year of the rabbit, and the mirrored events from 1999 to this year seems more than just coincidental. Therefore, it makes Kevin and I wonder what 2012, which is the year of the dragon, which Kevin was born in the year of the dragon, is going to be like. We wonder if it’s going to be similar to our year back in 2000.

What about you? Can you think of any similarities that had happened to you twelve years ago and this year?


This Video and Song Reminds Me of A Scene From My Book

11/04/2011 , 0 Comments

This video and song, reminds me of a scene in my ‘Beyond the Eyes’ book. It’s in chapter five when Paige wants to forget about her life for a while, so she goes to a bar that allows teenagers in. You see, seventeen-year-old Paige has been receiving cryptic premonitions from a phantom voice since she was four, and after she receives a cryptic death message about herself, bizarre things begin to happen to her. Her life takes on a Twilight Zonish perplexity that her logical mind can’t solve. It’s bad enough she’s had to hide these premonitions for years, feigning normalcy, but now she doesn’t know what the hell is going on and has nobody to turn to. But then she meets Nathan–an enigmatic young man she’s drawn to. Nathan has the answers, but he won’t tell her, so she breaks up with him. Confused, heartbroken, and missing Nathan, Paige decides to go to a bar on the outskirts of town, not caring how dangerous it can be.

Anyway, every time I see this video and hear the song, I think of that scene.

Oh, guess what? The guy that was suppose to fix my roof yesterday, was a no show–again. However, he did call this time (five hours later) and said they’d start on it today. He couldn’t give me a definite time though. *rolls eyes* So if they don’t show up today, then that’s it. Monday I’ll ask for our deposit back and find somebody who is more reliable. But the good news is that the weather forecast has changed and it’s not going to snow this weekend. YAY!



A Little Rant on the Side–Please.

11/03/2011 , , 0 Comments

Why is it that some people don’t keep their word?

Example: During the summer, my town was hit by a tornado, and my roof got damaged. The roofing guy was supposed to have put a new roof on our house over a month ago, and we’re still waiting.


I realize he’s been busy, but if you say you’re going to do something at a certain time/day, then you should stick to it. I also realize that sometimes something unexpected comes up, and I totally understand that. However, that person should at least call the other person to let them know what’s going on. Don’t ya think?

Kevin found out yesterday the guy, who is fixing our roof, had taken on three more roofing jobs, after he had agreed to do ours. And get this. He already did their roofs, and we’re still waiting.


I had called him two weeks ago to find out what was going on, and he told me our roof would get done the following week. Yeah right. Not only was he a no show, he didn’t even give us a courtesy call to inform us on what was going on. Anyway, Kevin called him a couple days ago, and now they’re supposed to start on our roof this afternoon. So hopefully they do.

Sorry about the rant, but it annoys me because it’s supposed to snow (hopefully not) this Sunday, and our roof should have been done a while ago.

*Deep calming, breathes*

Okay. I’m fine. Really.

Now, on to a lighter topic. . . .

On Halloween, Kevin did play some freaky ass music with his guitar and wah, wah, pedal. It was cool, and he did scare some kids. I wanted him to play ‘War Pigs’ by Black Sabbath, but he wouldn’t. I was like, ‘Aw, you’re no fun.’

Yeah, I’m the ornery one in the relationship, as you can tell. I get that from my dad. Oh, and I’m the youngest child too. I think if you’re the youngest child in the family, you’re more apt to be ornery. At least, that’s my theory. Kevin can be ornery though, but more so with me than anything else.

I started on revising, ‘Dark Spirits’ but I know after I’m finished with it, I’ll probably go over it again in a month or so. I wonder how many times writers revise their books. I know with, ‘Beyond the Eyes’ I revised it a lot, and now I’m finally satisfied with it.

I’m such a hyper critical freak when it comes to my writing. I think that’s why, revising ‘Dark Spirits’ seems to be going at a painfully slow pace. I’m also anxious to start my third book in the series. Ideas for that book have been marinating in my mind for a while now, and I can’t wait to start writing it all out to see what becomes of it.

But, first I need to finish revising, ‘Dark Spirits’ so I better get on it right now. :)



10/31/2011 , , 0 Comments

Hey. I just wanted to wish you guys a Happy Halloween. I hope you have fun tonight. Kevin told me he’s going to put his amp next to the front window and play Iron Man by Black Sabbath on his electric guitar. He also has a wah, wah pedal, so he’s going to use that as well to make weird, scary ass noises to scare the crap out of the kids (LOL).

I was looking on UTube for a good Halloween video to post, and the ones I came across were cheesy, but this one wasn't too bad.



One of The Things You Hope to Accomplish As a Writer.

A couple days ago I received a chapter from my writing/critique partner to critique for her. When I was reading it, I was not only surprised, but a little freaked out. And let me tell ya, I haven’t been freaked out by something I’ve read in a very long time.

As a writer that’s one of the things you hope to accomplish–to pull the reader into the story so they feel like they’re actually there and are emotionally involved in it. My writing partner did a good job doing that, so much so, I almost feel like saying. . . .


Just kidding, Valentina. :). Lol.
When I was writing, ‘Beyond the Eyes,’ I'd ask my critique partners if they felt anything while they were reading a chapter of mine that was suppose to be emotional or funny. Thankfully, they did. So hopefully, when the public eventually reads it, it’ll have the same effect on them as well. I know I’ve read it like a hundred times or more (I’m actually reading it right now–again) and I still feel those emotions when I read it. I don’t know if it’s because I wrote it, or if it's the real deal. However, my critique partners laughed and cried while reading it, so maybe it’s the real deal.

In my last post I’d said that I think the young adult paranormal genre is going to evolve into more creative and bolder stories–not that the books out now are less creative. I’m more or less talking about the trends that have been going on for a while now. I think new things will emerge out of the woodwork and what my critique partner is writing now, is a prime example of that. So hopefully I’m right, and once she gets it published, it’ll do well. I’ll certainly back her up on it.

Go Valentina!

*Jumps up and down. Tries to do the splits, but pulls a leg muscle instead.*

Over the weekend I decided to reread my first book, and then do the rewriting/editing on my second book, before I write the third one.

Anyway, as I’m writing this post, I can hear gunshots in the distance from hunters. It’s too far away for a bullet to whiz through my window straight into my skull (I know what a lovely thought, huh?).

I know I shouldn’t be thinking about stuff like that, but sometimes my imagination runs away with me, twisting in all different directions.

On that note, I shall take a respite from this world for a while, and fall into the world I’ve created.


Plugging Away

The other day I finished my rough draft to my second book in the ‘Beyond the Eyes’ series.


So now I’ve been doing some research on my third book. Kevin thinks I should do four books in the series, but I’m just going to do three and see what happens. I think if I don’t have an agent, by the time all three books are polished and ready to be publicly read, then I’m going to self-publish. I know a lot of people are doing it now, even authors who have already been traditionally published.

Two years ago I thought if I had to self-publish then I must suck as a writer.

Not True.

There are wonderful writers out there who have decided to self-publish, and they’re doing well. Some of them have even had offers from agents/publishers, after they had self-published. I’m not saying that’ll happen to me, but ya never know. Then again, by then I might not want to traditionally publish. But the point is, just because you decide to self-publish, doesn’t mean your writing or story sucks ass.

The literary world is very subjective, and nobody can predict what the next popular thing is going to be.

It’s a guessing game.

I do think because of the Hunger Games movie coming out, which by the way, I can’t wait to see, dystopian-type books will probably be popular for a while. Not too long ago, I read that interest in the young adult paranormal books are dying out. However, there are some publishers still buying them. I personally think that although the shelves are saturated with YA paranormal books, that genre will still remain popular but in a different way. I believe that it’s going to evolve beyond what has already been done. I think the stories will get more creative and bolder, leaving behind the predictable and tiresome stories that now have readers rolling their eyes when they see another one of those books again. Not that there’s anything wrong with those books, but it’s virtually like all the other ones crammed next to it. It reminds me of. . . .

A vanilla shake.

You may have a penchant for vanilla shakes, but eventually you get tired of them because it’s the same thing–milk and ice-cream. Then one day you come across an ice-cream parlor that has turned your beloved vanilla shakes into a mouth watering–tastebud pleasing–oh my frickin’ God–I have to have one–creation.

The Blizzard.

Hell, yeah.

See where I’m going with this?

I know it’s a silly analogy, but hey, it works for me. But seriously, right now, the YA paranormal books are those vanilla shakes. I think there are a lot of readers out there who are diehard fans of that genre, but it’s becoming too bland for them. I think what they want are added goodies to that genre, and that’s what us writers need to give them. And not just the same goodies–a variety of them.

Okay, moving on before I start to embarrass myself.

Anyway, I’m trying to decide whether I should reread my first and second books, and then start editing/rewriting the second book, or start on the third one. I know when a writer is finished with their rough draft of their book, they’re supposed to put it aside for like six weeks, then go back and do the editing/rewriting, that way they’re going back over it with fresh eyes.

I don’t know.

All I know is if I don’t work on it after a few days, I miss it. Therefore, I have to figure out what to do.

Hmmmm. . . . What does my gut tell me?

*Big sigh*

Well, regardless of what I decide to do, I’m going to keep plugging away at it until I reach my goal(s).



I've Been Tagged

10/17/2011 , 0 Comments

I’ve been tagged by another blogger to write six random things about myself, so here goes. . . .

1.) I have a stuffed raccoon named Coonie that I’ve had since the age of fourteen. My best friend Michele bought him for me when I was going through a difficult time. He’s always on my bed, and when I’m feeling sad or I’m alone in bed, I hold him in my arms for comfort.

2.) I light up like a Christmas tree when I’m around yummy food.

I love food.

Thank God; I don’t have a slow metabolism; however, I do have to work out to be happy with my body.

3.) I hate getting my picture taken, but I’m working on overcoming that.

4.) When I was four, I tried following my sister and her friend to a shopping center on my big wheel and got lost. I didn’t know which way would lead me home (I still have no sense of direction) so I resorted to the ieany, meany, miny, moe, method.

Of course, it was the wrong way. But, hey, I was four.

I ended up crossing a busy intersection during rush hour traffic (on my big wheel) and found an ice cream shop.

Yeah, I might have been scared and lost, but leave it to me to have found an ice cream shop to brighten my mood.

Did I mention I love sweets too? :)

The employees took me under their wing and gave me candy. When the police officer showed up, he told me he didn’t think he could fit my big wheel into his car. I remember looking up at him and tearfully saying, "But you can’t leave my big wheel here." He gave me an, ‘aw, it’s okay’ look, and then shoved my big wheel into the trunk of his car. In his car, he'd asked me where I lived. I gave him my address, and I remember him praising me with how smart I was to have known that. And then I begged him not to tell my dad because I was afraid I’d get a spanking. The officer told me he had to, so when we got home I went upstairs and hid in the closet. My dad never spanked me, and I later found out that nice officer made my dad promise not to, so my dad grounded me instead.

5.) I can't sleep with my closet door open. It has to be closed.

6.) I love sweet and salty food together like white chocolate-covered pretzels.

Okay, that’s six random things about me, so if any of you who are reading this have a blog, you just been tagged. :)


Sassy Gay Friend

10/14/2011 , 0 Comments

Have you seen this guy yet? I love him. I think we all need a sassy, gay friend in our life. I grew up around gay guys, and they’re so much fun to be around. I love them. When I was a kid, my mom’s best friend Greg, was my tooth fairy. (Lol). Also, when Kevin and I got married, our friend Dave was my maid of honor. Unfortunately, I’d lost contact with him years ago. He was a cute little blond guy who had a cat named Sebastian. He was so cute when he’d say, "This is my cat Sebastian."

I know. I’m a dork.
Anyway, I thought I’d share this video with you because I like it and it has to do with Shakespeare. There’s also a skit on Eve about to eat the apple that I love, but I had already posted that one on Facebook.



Harvest. It's Pretty Damn Cool

10/11/2011 , , , 0 Comments

I love fall. It’s my favorite time of year. I love how the leaves on the trees turn into beautiful, blazing colors. I love the crispness in the air to where it’s cool enough to wear a hoodie and the air smells like wood smoke. I love the gray days and that it gets darker early (I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it staying light in the summertime until 10:30 at night. There’s something seriously wrong with that). I also love that my favorite shows starts their new season. And I love the bounty of fresh food from the garden and trees.

Speaking of fresh food, our tomato plants did wonderfully this year. A few weeks ago, Kevin had made a huge batch of fresh yummy salsa with them, and on Saturday he made a pot of stewed tomatoes, then poured it in four containers, and stuck them in the freezer. We used the rest of the tomatoes for sandwiches and salads.

We also have a rhubarb plant, so I made rhubarb crisp for Kevin’s work, then chopped a butt-load up and stuck it in the freezer. And then my neighbor brought us three autumn cup squashes.

I love, love, love squash all mashed up with butter and brown sugar over it.


Then our neighbor came back by with a box full of apples from her apple tree, so I had to figure out what to do with them. I made, apple cinnamon kielbasa, which surprisingly was good, apple pork chops, apple crisp, apple sauce, and an apple pie. I even made the crust from scratch–first time ever. However, one turned out too hard and the other one turned out too soft. Can you sense a Goldilocks and the Three Bears theme here? Yeah, well, I didn’t go for a third time to get it just right. Instead, I improvised. I rolled out the hard crust as best I could and laid it in the pie pan, and then cut stripes from the soft crust and placed them on top of the apple pie filling, like a cobbler. And you know what? It came out beautifully, and. . . . Bonus. The crust was truly yummalicious.

After I made all of that, there was still more than half a box of apples left *big sigh*.

What in the world was I going to do with the rest of them?

Sure I could make apple butter and come up with more recipes with apples in it, but honestly, I was kinda getting burned out on it. I mean, if I had to I would. I wasn’t about to waste all those yummy organic apples. But then Kevin surprised me, and took that trivial concern of mine away.

On Saturday, I ventured out of the computer room, into the kitchen, and found him slicing the rest of the apples over the sink, dumping them in a colander. This was after he had already made the stewed tomatoes. Yeah, he was a busy little beaver, moving around with his cute self with the intention of storing it for the long winter. I asked him what he was doing, and he told me he was going to boil and freeze them.

Hey, that works for me.

Now, so far, we have in our freezer: rhubarb, stewed tomatoes, apple pie, and apples. We also have homemade chicken broth and chicken soup that was made before we received our bounty of harvest food.

It’s nice having fresh, organic food in the freezer whenever we can manage it. One day I would love to live in a place where I could get it all the time, along with fresh seafood. But for now, I’ll appreciate what I can get here because really, it’s pretty damn cool living in farm country where most everybody generously, including us, shares the food they’ve created with their own bare hands.

It’s pretty damn cool if you ask me, but it’s not like I haven’t already said that. :)


Cute Commercial

10/07/2011 , , 0 Comments

Have you guys seen this commercial yet? It’s rare that I see a commercial I like because most of them are lame, or so stupid that I’m embarrassed for the person who came up with the idea. The Swiffer is one of those stupid ass commercials. I can’t believe somebody got paid for it.

Anyway, if you've already seen this commercial, it's still worth watching again because it's that cute. And incase you're wondering. . . . Yes, I'm a Star Wars fan.
That commercial reminds me of my niece Ariel when she was little. She used to love watching the movie Matilda and would point her finger at things just like Matilda would do to move objects. One day Ariel was sitting on the couch after watching Matilda for the hundredth time (I didn’t mind. Really. It’s a cute movie), then afterwards she started pointing at things. My step dad was behind the couch holding the remote control. Of course, Ariel didn’t see him because she was too focused on the room in front of her. But when she pointed at the TV, my step dad turned it on. I was standing beside the couch, and Ariel looked at me with wide eyes, her mouth opened in surprise. I swear. It was one of the cutest moments ever.



Sacrificing Time

10/05/2011 , , 0 Comments

To become the best writer you can possibly be, you have to put a lot of time and effort into the craft, which involves a lot of hard work, persistence, and one other thing–sacrifice.

Your time, that is.

In order to reach your goal to become a published, successful author, and to turn your dream into a reality, you have to deny yourself time with your family, friends, going out, and so forth. Sure you’ll venture out to do the mundane things such as grocery shopping, running errands, clean house, preparing meals, laundry–blah, blah, blah. You may even sometimes go out to dinner or have a short visit with your neighbor. Maybe even take a walk with your significant other and stop for a soft served ice cream cone. Those are the things I do, but honestly, I rarely get out of town or away from the computer or a book. Unless, of course, I need a break, or when my favorite shows are on (Vampire Diaries and Supernatural). I personally don’t mind making those sacrifices, and I’m in the right place to do it because the nearest mall and major stores are an hour away. And I morbidly figure, if I die in the interim of striving to make my dreams come true, then so be it.

It’s that important to me.

That doesn’t mean I’m better than Ms. Sally Sue who is working toward the same dream, yet she goes out every weekend and takes vacations.

It’s just how I am.

I do know Kevin sometimes worries about me and maybe even wonders if my behavior is healthy. A couple times he’s joked about being a widow, and I know that’s his way of saying, "We need to spend more time together." He’s sweet because he doesn’t want to trample on my writing dream, so he tries to be subtle when he’s worried about me or wants us to spend quality time together. When he does that, it jolts my attention back to the world around me and to him.

Last weekend was one of those jolting times. I walked away from the computer, and we went on a road trip, took some pictures, and had a really nice weekend.

Here's a picture of the leaves changing. I was hoping the colors would be a lot more brilliant than that; however, it's still pretty.

I know. You might be thinking, "Big deal." But I'm still enthralled with the beauty of North Dakota. I mean, the lakes aren't 'man made'. They're real.

Look at that wonderful country road, lined with beautiful trees, and no car in sight.

We came across an old abandon church, and thought it would be cool to take a picture of it with Kevin's 1964 Ford truck in front of it. I wanted to explore inside the church, but Kevin didn't think that would be a good idea.

They have weird, but cute sayings here like: Uff-Da. We saw this shop sign, and I had to take a picture of it to show you guys.
We stopped in a small town to grab a bite to eat, and there was a classic car meeting going on. I saw this wonderful car and had to take a picture of it.

Here's this little sweetie. I wanted to take a side view picture, but didn't get the chance.

This is a nice car too. You can see the side view of it in the above picture.  I love classic cars.

Kevin wanted to take a picture of his truck in front of the airplane. When his dad was in the Air Force, he had worked with those type of planes. Anyway, it's a cool plane. Too bad it's not a Spitfire.

After we got back home, we both sighed with contentment, and said, "What a wonderful weekend." I realized then I need to take more time away from the computer, and enjoy being outside. At least, until the snow starts to fall, and everybody is holed up in their house for six months. But the point is to take a day off or two and have some different kind of fun. You're still sacrificing your time to accomplish your dreams, however, you're not allowing yourself to atrophy while doing it.


All in The Name of Love and Creativity

The other day I had to do research on bullwhips and what it was like to be whipped. I came across a Utube video where a young guy was tied to a tree, and his friend was whipping him countless times. To be honest, it hurt my heart watching it. However, the guy didn’t cry out or display any painful emotions, which made it tolerable to watch. Afterwards, they showed what his back looked like, and counted more than twenty lashing marks.

I was surprised when I came across the video because why would anybody want to inflict pain onto themselves? When I think about that, the thought of cage fighting follows. Why would somebody want to beat the crap out of another person just for the fun of it?

I don’t understand it.

A good friend of mine from junior high had told me a year ago that he does cage fights (he lives in Arizona). When I asked him why, he told me to prove to himself he can. I think it’s an ego thing really. Nevertheless, though, it still hurts my heart to even think about it. I try not to judge why people do things, but to hurt somebody for the sake of hurting them, for ego reasons, for status, popularity, approval, or whatever, bothers me. I feel the same way about boxing. I know a lot of people like it and think it’s cool, but personally, I think it’s barbaric. I mean, if people want to do it, that’s their choice. So be it. It’s their life. It’s not like they’re doing something illegal. They’re only hurting themselves, and the other willing party in the ring. Their actions have no bearings on my life whatsoever. Just because it hurts my heart doesn’t give me the right to point a harsh finger at them and call them animals. They’re probably nice guys. I don’t know, but I’m not going to watch it, or be a part of their world because that’s not the type of world I want to experience. My junior high friend is a very nice guy. However, if I was still in Arizona, I certainly wouldn’t be going to one of his cage fighting events.

When I had finished watching the Utube video, I continued the research because the guy never mentioned how it felt like to be whipped. For the chapter I was writing, I had to know what it actually felt like so I could put as much realism into it as possible. I came across an article about a guy who was publicly flogged because he was drinking in public. The guy explained exactly how it had felt like, and to his credit, he gritted his teeth and didn’t give the Iranians the satisfaction of screaming out. To have the willpower and the presence of mind to exercise such self control is admirable. At least, in my book it is.

After I read his experience, I was able to write my chapter. I had never written a chapter like that before and really had to stretch myself. But that’s good because the cool thing about being a writer is, you ALWAYS continue to grow. It’s not like you hit a certain level, and that’s it. Even Stephen King had said he still has a lot to learn. So yeah, writing that chapter was a new experience for me. But I enjoyed writing it and how it turned out. I wasn’t sure if my critique partner would like it, but she actually loved it. She told me it was a great chapter. So doing my research on bullwhips and flogging not only taught me something new, it also helped me add more zest to my story. And even though I could have gone my whole life without knowing what it was like to be brutally whipped, I now have an idea and understanding about it, thanks to the chapter I had to write. And whether I like it or not, that’s just one more piece of knowledge I can slip into my repository.

Ah, such tragedy and brutality I must encompass and allow into the shelter part of my mind so I can add brilliant colors to the pages of my story–all in the name of my love for creativity and my story.

I’m not trying to be a martyr or a drama queen. No. Really I’m not. :)


My Four-Legged Kid

9/29/2011 , , , , 0 Comments

I have a four-legged kid named Church. I named him after the cat in Stephen King’s book Pet Semtary.

This is Church. He’s a handsome boy. Don’t you think?

He’s the coolest cat ever, but lately he’s been a pain-in-the-ass. He wants either in or outside. Or he wants to go in the basement. He can’t make up his frickin’ mind. He’ll come in for a few minutes, and then he wants to go back outside. He’ll go outside for a few minutes, and then he wants back in. And he meows, and meows, and meows. However, he gets away with it because he does stuff like this.

He’s just too damn cute to stay mad at, and he likes to snuggle. Also, when he’s not complaining or whining, he has a cute disposition. And he’s funny. He gets big points for silliness. But he does get in his moods, and sometimes when I’m writing, he won’t stop interrupting me. Again, he’ll meow and meow and meow, or he’ll scratch at the carpet, which he knows not to do, or he’ll attack my arm. So then I’ll threaten him. I tell him if he continues with his crap, his ass is staying outside. Amazingly enough, he chills out and goes to sleep. I think I’m going to have to do that this morning because as I’m writing this, he’s banging the cupboard door in the kitchen. He likes to go in the cupboards. But see, I’m trying to write, and he’s being a brat. Now, he’s meowing. It’s a pathetic meow, like he has it SO hard. Poor baby. Kevin is making crying sounds (LOL), telling Church he’s a wuss.

Kids. It doesn’t matter if they’re human or furry, we choose to share our life with them. And even though sometimes they’re a pain-in-the-ass; we still love them.

Now, I need to go kick some kitty ass because he’s attacking my leg.


The Little Girl Inside Me

When I was a child, I loved books, and fortunately my parents did too. I remember asking my sister to read to me (she’s four years older than I), but she was too busy at the time. So I went up to our room and sat on my bottom bunk bed with the book Hansel and Gretel in my lap, wishing I could read. I knew some words (hey, I was four), but not enough to read the whole book.

First grade was really when I’d learned how to read, and I was in the top of my reading class. But then I fell from a building, split my cranium straight down the middle, and was in a coma for three days. It was a miracle I’d survived, wasn’t paralyzed, a vegetable, or brain damaged, although, sometimes I wonder about the brain damaged part :). But during that time was when my class was learning how to read, and I was determined not to miss out. I had double vision for a while, but that didn’t stop me. I wanted the ability to read damn it, so I basically taught myself. My teacher was so impressed, that she gave me a T-shirt that said: "I’m a perfect reader."

This is a picture of my family, six years before my parents divorced. I’m the one sitting on my mom’s lap, and of course that’s my sister next to our dad. Dig the side burns Dad. Oh, and Dad, what's with the outfit? What were you thinking? Okay. Yeah, I know. It was the 70s. That’s okay, when I was in grade school, I had parachute pants, which I loved, and would still wear if they came back out again. But I didn’t wear the MC Hammer pants, so I did have some restraint. :)

The little girl on my mom’s lap didn’t think about the future, all she cared about was being loved, listening to stories, watching Wonder Women, playing with her Honey Bunch dolls, riding her big wheel (I LOVED my big wheel. I miss my big wheel), hanging out with her daddy, playing outside with her sissy and friends. Oh, and of course, sweets.

As she grew, she had many dreams, and although her life dramatically changed, she held onto those dreams. She wanted to be truly loved and to write books for a living. She started writing when she was seven, a poem about birds. As she got older, she had notebooks full of her thoughts, poems, and stories. In school, she loved to get up in front of the class and read her stories. One memorable time was in seventh grade, when she read a horror story she wrote about a monster living in the sewer (I wish I still had that story). Her story had captivated the class so much so that they all did a collective gasp during the scary scenes. After that, she was hooked on writing stories. She started writing a novel at fourteen. When she was sixteen, she graduated high school early, and started writing another novel about a haunted house. But then she ended up on her own, and had to make a living, so her writing dream withered away.

Years later, one of her dreams comes true–she finds true love. Or did it find her? What came first, the chicken or the egg? I guess we’ll never know, huh? But that doesn’t matter because YAY she now has true love with the most wonderful person in the world who loves her for her. They get married, and her writing dream begins to burn bright inside her again. She takes a writing course, but then once again, life happens. Tragedy strikes not once, not twice, but three times, and her dream is shoved aside.

Years go by, and finally one day it hits her. She rushes to grab a pen and notebook and a story evolves as she feverishly writes the words down that races through her mind. Almost two years later, she completes a novel, and her dream is reborn.

That novel now sits on my shelf, out of sight, but certainly not out of mind. One day I’ll rewrite it, but right now I’m focused on my Beyond the Eyes series.

So that dream of becoming a published author and making a living off of her books, continues on for the little girl sitting on her mommy’s lap–the little girl who lives inside me. The book (s) has been written and more will follow. That’s half the battle, a battle a lot of people never win, even though their intentions are good. And each day that I write, I become better, and my armor gets stronger. Now I’m up against another battle, and I wonder, how long will it take to fight this next one?

The little girl inside me squirms and sometimes reminds me of the hand I’ve been dealt with when I’d first opened my eyes into this world, and how beaten down I was. Those dreams don’t happen to people like you. There’s no luck for you. Remember what Dostoevsky had said: "The ruts had been laid out long before you were born. I then have the sudden urge to crawl in a dark hole and disappear. But then my stubbornness emerges, and I say to that little girl, "No. Screw that! We're not victims, and our dreams can come true. Luck isn’t reserved for certain people. We create our own path. And," I point out to myself, "you never thought you’d be truly loved, and look. LOOK! You have it, and it’s more than what you had ever imagined. So don’t give up. Don’t. Give. Up."

And so the little girl quiets down, and I go back to building my armor and learning tactics to use for the second half of the battle.


How to Write a Synopsis

9/17/2011 , 1 Comments

I’ve spent part of the last two days working on a 750-word synopsis, and let me tell ya, it’s a pain in the booty. A synopsis (for those who don’t know) is a brief summary of your novel, hitting the major points in the story. So I had to condense my whole novel into 750 words, which is hard to do. I’ve read a lot of writers, think it’s harder to write a synopsis than to write the book itself, and I can see why. My first synopsis, was a ten-page one, and then I got it down to two-pages. That in itself was a challenge, but doing a 750-word one was even harder. Thank God for my wonderful critique partner Valentina to go over it for me.

So how do you write a synopsis? How do you capture the spirit of your story, and the prime events that gives it life and the ability to roam free in the hearts and minds of the reader to where it stays with them long after they’ve read the last line? Each scene is important, right? It moves the story forward and has a purpose, so your natural response is to compact as much as you can into your synopsis, but you can’t. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way.

The synopsis is a very important element to your submission package, and before you submit it, you want to make sure it’s polished to the best of your ability. But first you have to write it. Here’s how you do it. . . .

First, try not to get overwhelmed. I know it sucks ass to whittle a 90,000 + word manuscript down to a few pages–if that. But don’t get overwhelmed. Instead, take it in baby steps. Read through your novel again, and pick out the meat from each chapter, meaning what moves the story forward. Try to write it in a few sentences or less, and only pick out the key characters. The agent or editor doesn’t need to know all the characters. Once you completed that part, then take a break and hop online. Think of a movie that’s similar to your book, or a movie in the same genre. Now type it in the search engine, find the synopsis for it, and read it. I don’t know about you, but I’m a visual person, and seeing a synopsis for a movie really helps me. You can also read the blurb on the back of a book. Pretend your book is a movie, and you’re describing it to your friends. How would you describe it? Of course you wouldn’t tell them everything that happened. What you would do is mesh the important and exciting parts together to engage their attention and entice them to see it. That’s what you want to do to your synopsis–engage the reader enough to want to read your whole manuscript.

When you begin your synopsis, start with the main character and a conflict. It can be emotional or physical. Now go through what you wrote when you went through each chapter and add what’s relevant to the story and summerize it. Make sure your synopsis covers all the major plot points, and ALWAYS include the ending. You also want to inject the tone of your book into the synopsis, and keep it exciting.

Before I forget to tell you–just incase you don’t know–a synopsis is written in present tense and in the third person. Also, when you introduce a character, you have to CAPITALIZE their name, but after that, you don’t have to. And remember, weaving your characters and their main conflicts in a logical order is very important. Your synopsis should be clear on what your book is about, who are the characters the reader will care about or hate, what’s at stake, and the outcome. If you get frustrated, walk away, and then do what I said earlier–read a synopsis from a movie or a blurb off of a book. That’s what I do and it seems to help.

Speaking of help. If anybody is reading this post and does need to do a synopsis, hopefully what I said helps you. I’m by no means, a whiz at writing a synopsis. Quite the contrary. I’m always questioning whether it’s good enough or not. But then again, I do that with EVERYTHING I write. Honestly, I drive myself nuts because I’m so critical of my own work. But it’s not like I haven’t said that before, right? However, what I just told you does help me, and I wanted to share it with you.


Why Did Hitler Do It?

9/14/2011 , , 0 Comments

Okay, I think I’m going to post this now. I had briefly mentioned this post in my last one and thought I should go ahead and post it. Oh, in my last post I had said if I were President, I wouldn’t meddle in other country’s affairs. I still stand by that; however, if another country was bombing one of our allies, like what Germany did to England, then I’d get America involved.

Now, I will begin my post.

I love history and been wanting to do a post on why Hitler did what he did. I was warned this was a touchy subject and not to do a post on it because the wound has yet to heal, and probably never will. But I see no harm in trying to understand it.

More than six million Jews were slaughtered during World War Two. Every time I think about that, even now, I feel sick to my stomach, and my eyes start to water. I’m not Jewish, but that doesn’t matter. What happened to them was and is unconscionable, and I want to know how a human being could do that to another one. I realize, throughout history dictators around the world had committed atrocious acts toward their people. Even the church had done some horrific acts toward human beings. They thought they were doing the right thing. But it wasn’t the right thing. How could anybody burn another human alive and think it was the right thing to do? How could somebody even do that? And how could others take part in such a hellish and violent act?

I don’t get it.

Maybe if I broke it down, we could get some insight on why Hitler did what he did. But before I go any further, let me just say, what Hitler did was unjustifiable. It was sick and twisted, and nothing in the world could excuse him or the Nazis for what they had done.

Germany had lost World War One and Hitler believed it was because of the Jews. The Treaty of Versailles held Germany responsible for the war and placed huge military restrictions on them. There were also territorial changes where Germany lost control over its colonies, and reparations where Germany had to pay the Allies. I believe the total sum was around 226 billion Reichsmarks. In 1921 it was reduced to 132 billion Reichsmarks, but that was still a lot of money. So Germany’s economy took a huge hit in the Great Depression and was struggling to stay afloat. While the Germans were struggling and jobless, the Jews were prosperous and held prominent positions. With critical and damning eyes, Hitler took notice and felt the Jews were taking opportunities away from the Aryans.

So did this alone cause Hitler to have a deep-seated hatred toward Jews? I think there was more to it than that. I think he hated Jews long before World War One, but the events of World War One and what had followed afterwards may have solidified in his mind the Jews were an evil race and needed to be annihilated.

I had read, and this is all speculation, that Hitler’s beloved mother died of cancer, and he blamed her Jewish doctor for her death. He believed the doctor had given her a treatment that ultimately killed her. He was also denied entry to the Vienna Academy of Fine Art by a Jewish professor. If those two incidents are true, I wonder if they were what triggered Hitler’s hatred toward Jews. It seems like he blamed the Jews for everything bad that had happened in his life, and used them as a scapegoat for all the wrong doings in his life and country.

So how did Hitler sway Germany, to support his agenda? Well for one the Germans resented the harsh actions that were taken against their country after World War One, and Hitler in his charismatic speeches pointed a sharp finger at the Jews for Germany’s misfortunes. Anti-Semitism was already prevalent at the time, which made it easier for Hitler to demonize the Jews, and gain a foothold in the heart of Germany. He thought the Jews were communists and used that as part of his propaganda machine as well. I think he had manipulated his way into power with promises to lift the yoke off the German’s necks and to deliver them into an Elysium. I also think, not all the Germans knew or believed about the death camps, and what Hitler and the Nazis were actually doing to the Jews. But then again, how could they not know? That’s not for me to judge though. I wasn’t there, so I don’t know. I do know, after the war, Germans were forced to see what Hitler and the Nazis had done, and they were horrified when they saw the corpses of Jews that were callously slaughtered, stacked together in a mountainous pile like pieces of garbage.

I could go on and on about this, but then this post would be like twenty pages long. I just want to know what could have driven a person to commit such brutal acts, because I don’t understand it. And I know there are still Nazis out there who share the same ideals as Hitler, and if that’s how they feel, so be it. I have my own personal beliefs and wouldn’t want anybody to encroach on them. I also know there are whites who hate blacks, and blacks who hate whites, Muslims who hate Christians, and Christians who hate Muslims, and so forth. It has always been that way. I just hope we’ve learned something from World War Two and there will never be another Holocaust again. I also hope maybe someday we can stop all this hate and learn to live together in peace, learn to self govern, and take personal responsibility for ourselves and actions. There are a lot of things I hope for, but sometimes I wonder if hope is just a waste of time.


A Writer With Some Cold-Hearted Political Views?

I haven’t posted anything in four days because I’ve been busy, and I really couldn’t figure out what to post about. I think I’ve been walking in a fog lately, just out of it for some reason. This morning I told myself that I have to post something to keep this blog going. I do have a post I wrote, two or three weeks ago about wondering why Hitler did what he did to the Jews, but I thought I’d save that for another time because it’s kind of a somber post. So I thought I’d just get in front of the computer and start writing, see where it takes me.

I finished chapter twenty-three to Dark Spirits yesterday, and sent it to my critique partner. I wasn’t sure if she would like it because for some reason I had kind of a hard time writing that chapter. I don’t know why, but I had to walk away from it a couple times. But when I received my critique back from her, she said it was a great chapter, good stuff, and I left the reader at a good spot. I know this is just a rough draft of the book, but it’s always good to know I’m on the track I want to be on.

When I started writing Dark Spirits, I wasn’t planning on doing two, POV (point of view) characters, but then in chapter fourteen, I wrote in Nathan’s POV, and it was fun. Not only that, but I think it works and adds to the story. Also, I’ve discovered I have more fun writing in his voice than in Paige’s. I don’t know why, but I’m guessing because it’s new and in a male voice. So my next chapter will be in Nathan’s voice, and I’m looking forward to writing it.

Today is the anniversary of 9/11, and I bet almost everybody remembers what they were doing when the planes had hit the Twin Towers. I was in the kitchen, getting some coffee, when I heard Kevin say, "Omigod." I went into the living room and sat on the couch beside him, and watched a plane fly into a building. We couldn’t believe it. It all seemed so surreal. Later on that day, he told me to buy a case of ammo because honestly, we didn’t know if our country was going to continue being under attack by terrorists. And there’s one thing about us Americans that set us a part from most countries–we’re fighters. If terrorists or another country wants to mess with us, then fine, but we’re not going to fall on our knees and cower to them. Screw that. We’re Americans, and we’ll kick their ass.

This morning, I hung our flag up in front of our house and silently honored the men and women who had risk their lives to help the people who were trapped in those buildings. My heart also went out to the families and the people who had died on that horrific day. I wish I could take away their sorrow, but I can’t. Sometimes I wonder if I’m a cold-hearted person because if I was President, I would pull our troops out of all the countries, put them on our borders, and then turn the terrorists’ country into glass. I would also stop meddling in other countries affairs, take care of our country, produce everything we need in our country instead of over seas, and stop buying foreign oil (we have plenty of oil here in the U.S.). But I’d do it all in such a way (if there was one) to keep good foreign relations with our most trusted allies like England and Israel. So is that cold-hearted? I don’t know, but that’s what I would do.