Archive | July 2005

The Downpour

Well, I should have known it wouldn’t get much better. We picked up the one car from the mechanic and swapped it out with the other car that needed fixing. Luckily, that one only had a minor problem and we have both vehicles back in the yard now.

But, my son has caught whatever bug my daughter has and their both walking around with stuffy noses and unrecognizable little voices. Good thing is they haven’t been miserable. Where playing and whining and tantrums are concerned, those two haven’t missed a beat. But I’m getting a scratchy throat and I’m pretty sure as mom, getting sick is not in my contract.

I have to really crack down to get Knowing Better done by Sunday, even if it means running away from home temporarily tomorrow to get some writing done in a nice quiet place.

I’ve also received some other interesting calls I’m tossing around ideas for and did get a check yesterday. Things are looking up for the second half of 2005 after all.

Heat Wave

What can I say? It’s too hot to do anything.

And in the midst of this heat wave, my household gets a shit storm. Car broke down yesterday… cost lots of dough to get fixes. Daughter came home with a runny nose this afternoon. I planned for time off tomorrow but how much do you wanna bet I’ll be nursing the sick instead?

Ah well, comes with the territory I suppose. No new writing done on Knowing Better, but that is one of the things I wish to accomplish tomorrow. I am expecting a check for a story in the mail soon. That’s always nice.

Other than waves and waves of stress, I am fairing well.

So The Story Grows

I’ll be glad when I can post that it’s finished and sent, but until then, I’m still working on Knowing Better and the last word count was 2665. I was worried in the beginning that I would have a hard time making 1500, but it’s looking as though I’m going to have to work not to surpass the 20 page limit. I think I’ve got the scenes under control, but I’m having trouble with writing a plausible ending.

Right now I’m taking a breather by watching Uptown Girls with Dakota Fanning and Brittney Murphy and I’m really enjoying it.

I’m going to give myself until Wednesday to complete the final draft of the story so that it can at least simmer a few days before I sent it on it’s way.

Last night it was late to bed and early to rise this morning but I’m glad to say, no more bad dreams.


I had an interesting dream last night. It contained two significant components: pregnancy and death.

In the dream I was pregnant and everything was pretty much as it is in my life now. I was already the mother of two, but it is unclear whether or not I was still married. My husband was not there and was not mentioned. I wasn’t alone, but it’s become fuzzy now as to who was there with me. I don’t believe they were strangers. My mother was there and dressed to go to the funeral of a very close (yet distant) relative. I had heard nothing of this person’s death up to that point.

I’m no dream interpreter, but I do take interest in dreams like these. I only remember dreams occasionally, and only continue to think about them when I feel they mean something. I kept a dream journal for a while when I was younger but stopped. I wish I had kept that up.

So, I did a search to try and find what this dream may represent. I haven’t run across a good sight yet but what I gather so far is this:


Death in a dream can mean the death or change to a part of your personality or the end of a certain phase in your life.


Pregnancy often represents new growth in your life, growing creativity.

I can understand how both symbols relate to my life but to have both those components in one dream freaked me out just a tad.

But on the creative front, I’m over 1600 words in on Knowing Better and counting, working on it now aside from this blogging break. I sent The Art Of Exposure (originally included in the anthology Naked Erotica) off to be considered for a prize for Erotic Literature and I’m working on another erotic short for a contest.

So, not a bad weekend where writing is concerned and if anyone cares to venture a more detailed interpretations of last night’s dream, feel free.

A Minute To Indulge My Nostalgia

You never know how much of a pack rat you really are until you actually start trying to clear out the clutter.

In the interest of Operation Organization, I’ve begun going through old notebooks and gathering all my handwritten drafts of projects yet to be completed and filing them appropriately – and yes, the trash bin was an appropriate place for some things.

And in the process I’ve uncovered poems, letters to old boyfriends (because even back then I had a penchant for writing things twice), short stories, etc. from up to ten years ago.

It’s obviously hard for me to consider anything useless where writing is concerned. I feel I’m going to use everything at some point, crazy as that sounds. It doesn’t matter how small the passage or dialogue, I fear if I get rid of it, I’ll one day be thinking back on that scrap of paper with those words that would be perfect for the story I’m working on.

I’ve been able to part with about half a notebook so far though, which held the handwritten drafts of both Dissolve (Best Women’s Erotica 2004) and Burn (Swing!). That’s a start, I think.

Of course there were some things I just didn’t want to part with, like my first acceptance letter for a story published on a webzine in 2000, the first three chapters of the first novel I ever tried to write.

I do understand that I need to get past this need to keep every little thing if for no other reason than to preserve folder (and brain) space, but it gives me a little kick to go back every now and then and read over this stuff. Even if I am just shaking my head over what a sap I was.

So what I think I’ll do every now and then is post an old letter, short story, whatever and title the post Nostalgic Friday or something like that, just to get these things saved somewhere and eliminate the paper. Feel free to either skip said posts, read them, or laugh your ass off and tease me about it. It’s really just for preservation’s sake and I may include a little back story with them but no names, of course.

The New Dance

It’s called the sleepwalk and I feel as though I’ve been doing it for weeks now. I don’t remember the last time I got eight – even five or six – consecutive hours of sleep. It doesn’t matter what time I go to bed, if the kids are quiet, even if I’m too tired to move. Sleep just doesn’t come. Big cup of anxiety, anyone? But sleep issues aside, life goes on.

Knowing Better is coming along, shaping up to be something I’m quite fond of. I didn’t get to the PC last night to update the Word file from my handwritten pages, but I was able to scribble out some good stuff. I’m focusing more on dialogue right now, trying to get a feel for the actual relationship between these two characters. I know it’s romantic, though not in the mushy-mushy sense, but I need to know if it was incendental, conventient, passionate and what motivates these two to make the choices they make.

It always amazes me how I think I know just where a story is going, how it’s going to get there, what the characters are thinking, what they’re doing… Then I start writing it and the story just shows me so much more about itself.

I’m taking a half day on the 9 to 5 tomorrow. The plan is to spend a couple of good hours on Knowing Better, to hopefully wrap it up in time enough for it to sit for a week before I pick it up again for a final pass before sending it on its way. But we know what happens when we make plans, don’t we?

I Adore Determination

It was a busy day and night yesterday, thus no time to post properly and it’s looking to be a busy morning, so until I get to update here are some links of a couple to people who have inspired me lately. My cyber friend Aurelia just completed her ebook Journey To Joy and it’s on sale now, and author C B Potts of Eclectic Everyday talks about her freelance writing experience here.

I’ll post a writing update later!


First thing this morning, another story appeared and gnawed at me until I began writing it down. It’s drastically different from the one started last night thus can’t be tied in, but that’s fine.

The good thing is I’m so interested in both ideas that I want to proceed with each of them. The one I’ve been working on today, Knowing Better, would be better suited for the relationship anthology as there is more character interaction and dialogue and the other, A Bed Made Hard is more like a one woman show. I’d like to try this one out on a webzine.

Unfortunately the sleeping didn’t get better as my son began having fits of crying at around midnight and it was off and on for about an hour. I never sleep well after that as one ear is constantly cocked listening out for him. Even now as he is half as tall as I am I still want to go in and bring him in bed with us as I did from time to time when they were infants.

Of course, this morning after everyone else was awake, he lay in his bed rubbing in his eyes wondering what all the fuss was about, the little sleep wrecker. Luckily mommy has learned to function on little sleep.

Somewhat Satisfied

I got down 1,000 words on the new short story. It came easy after opening the file and doing a little free writing. It has structure and I know exactly where it’s headed. I also have alternate plans for it if it’s not accepted. Maybe now I’ll be able to sleep through the night.

Muse Monday

I was reading Devon of Ink In My Coffee’s post on muses which linked to Anteann of Bloggin’s post on muses and I had to chuckle as I have been having a bit of a struggle with mine the past few days.

I put the novel aside since I was trying to make an end of the month deadline for a short story that, as of this morning, was little more than a title and a few sentences. It’s for an anthology on relationships, which should have prompted endless ideas since the theme is so broad, but instead I found myself blocked.

I had been waiting for the story to tug a little more, for something to happen. I wasn’t expecting the words to magically flow from my fingers but a little help would have been nice.

Alas, since it appeared I had been abandoned, I tried to go it alone. The deadline certainly wasn’t going to negoitiate with my muse and besides, I’m a control freak and do not like to give her that much power. But instead of pushing through the block, I found myself tossing and turning half the night, stumped for direction, wishing she would just show up already.

She’s obviously the most accommodating muse, but I try not to hold that against her as she is quite generous when she’s around. But when I’ve done something to piss her off and she vanishes, boy does she make me work to get her back.

And, as usual, when I’m ready to throw up my hands and pass on a project, there she is. She arrived this afternoon and decided that, yes, she indeed has something to say about relationships and boy, wait ’til I hear it.

She’s not nearly as animated as Devon’s or Anteann’s but we do work well together. Maybe next time I should send her to hang out with those guys.

And since were are talking muses and creativity here, I’ll point you to a great interview where Mary Anne Mohanraj talks about her writing life.