Refocus…

I am taking a break from meeting anyone new right now.

I’m just going to work with what I’ve got, I’ve hidden my profiles or disabled them (of course that is assuming that they were ABLE to begin with haha, which I don’t think they were).

I need to focus on my fiction, my photography, my charitable organization and ME.

Maybe I’ll focus on being pretty? Or attempting to?  Let’s see how this works out…

sigh… it’s been a rough week here in my head.

Here is a sample of some of my work…

Yes, I’m a Snob…

I’ve been called a Beer Snob and a Music Snob in the last couple of weeks.  I am not offended, it’s true, I am what I am.  I do not think that either of these monikers affect my ability to find a suitable mate, or even an unsuitable one for that matter.

I carry these titles with a little bit of pride, however, I do not brag, it’s not my style.

But, what is hindering me from finding an unsuitable mate, is the fact that I’m a little bit of a grammar snob.

Come on, I know I’m not alone.  I see enough eCards bitching about their, there and they’re to know that it’s a weeding out process that MANY of us implement.

I don’t AUTOMATICALLY judge based on a silly spelling error, everyone does it.  Poor spelling isn’t necessarily an indication of a low IQ, so I’ve heard.  I mean, I WAY overuse the ellipses.  My editor was always happy to point that out, but I’m stubborn and I love the ellipses.  “We don’t need to know when the writer pauses to think” he would say.  I think that you do.

I do have to say that a lack of the ability to use spell-check does indicate either lack of intelligence, lack of seriousness, lack of a give-a-fuck or an “I’m above trying” attitude.  None of that inability draws me.  Call me a snob.

Here is the messaging that inspired this post:

Dating site email:

Do you have a lot in common which is cool I was going get a tattoo down below that said noddy by nature lol do you like your tattoos very sexy reading your profile seems like you had a great personality an funny love that

My reply:
Lol well if you decide to get that tattoo, I’d spell it NAUGHTY or people will assume you can’t hold your head up… And if it’s downstairs, they will doubt your ability to obtain an erection… Just a word to the wise.
Thanks for the compliments btw…

His reply:
Oh my god that is too funny I don’t think they would care what it said lol if the horse was playing lol I think they would just want to saddle up in ride

Draw your own conclusions…

Come on folks, learn to spell!!!

Hurry-Up Horror

Fiction.

I love fiction, I love being transported into someone else’s life, into another world, another time… I’ve loved books, madly, since I was a small child. Maybe, because I am an only child, the books were my playmates.

So… always looking for new things to read, I discovered Two Sentence Horror stories.

http://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/1iwylh/what_is_the_best_horror_story_you_can_come_up/

Seriously, do yourself a favor and check these out… I got completely absorbed in them.

I tried my hand at writing a couple. I’m not sure that it’s my “thing” I usually get really wrapped up in describing things, almost like giving inanimate objects human qualities.

Here are a couple that I penned… let me know what you think. Can you write one??

As they hiked to the abandoned asylum, she tripped over a pile of bricks, gashing her thigh open; the blood began to pour onto the rain soaked ground.
She looked up at him, panicked as he bent over and began to lick the blood from her wounded leg…

“It’s just contact dermatitis” the doctor said as she scratched away the top layer of her skin. She had faith in her physician until she saw the first worm make its way out through her broken skin.

”I can’t take another night like this” she thought aloud as she walked toward the room that held the screaming baby.
The baby grew silent as she walked into the nursery to see her husband holding a pillow over the baby’s face.

Piss and Moan Monday

Some days, I like to pretend that I’m a real big-girl writer.

No, I’ve never had anything published, and I’m approximately 100 pages into a novel, with vast work yet to be done.

But, I sit in front of a computer, I put words into it.

I make notes, list after list after list.

I do research.

I’ve made actual family trees for my characters.

I’ve drawn diagrams of houses and buildings.

And… I drink, I obsess, and I’m obviously neurotic… so I’m a real writer.

Right???

I’ve recently acquired a couple of new friends, writers themselves. I think that aside from having someone to bounce work/ideas off of, it will be good to share frustrations with someone who could possibly understand.

I can lament “I wish I could finish this fucking novel”.

Normal people would say “Well, just finish it then.”

Writers would say “Here, have a shot of bourbon.”

Writers are simultaneously horrible influences and totally awesome.

I want… no I NEED encouragement… I know, that’s pathetic… but that’s how I roll.  Since my friend B died, I’ve felt lost as a writer.  I wrote the short story about a very personal experience and then decided to start something entirely new.  I had no idea where the story was going, unlike the novel, I just went with it.

After about 10 pages I had an epiphany.  The protagonist was the same as in my novel, just at a different stage in her life.

My editor friend says this is to be expected, since both characters are based loosely on myself….

Well, fuck.

Now, I’m back at work on the novel.

I’ve gotten some really great feedback on it, with the few people I’ve shared it with.  I think I’m on the right track…

If I just didn’t have to fucking work, I could really make something happen.

Yea, right.

But… in the span of a few days, I’ve been called a “sophisticated writer” (clearly this person doesn’t know me) and an “artsy chick”.

I dig it.  Even if I’m not quite sure it fits.  I can’t say that it’s appropriate to describe me as “sophisticated” but, hey, I’ll take it.

I once went to a couple of meetings of a local writers group, with stars in my eyes.

B told me that I’d hate it.

“No” I thought “They’ll be cool like me.”

B was right.

If you write about faeries, that’s cool, that’s your thing, go on with your bad self…

BUT…

DO NOT SUGGEST THAT I CHANGE MY CHARACTERS.

These “writers” would pick apart a few pages of someone’s work a week.  Theoretically this sounds like a great idea, CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM.

That is not what was happening.

It was mostly one dude postulating and the librarian trying to make everyone feel comfortable.  I was totally insulted for the other writers when people were making suggestions to change the actual characters.  The whole story is based on the motherfucking character, if you change it; it’s not the same story.  If you want to write a story about another character, write it yourself.

Oh, yea, and kiss my ass.

 

So that’s the last and only formal “writers group” that I’ve participated in.  I still believe that a writers group could work, as long as the gas bags are weeded out.  And no, I don’t mean a group to go to the bar and get hammered with… I mean, not until after group is over.

I read over the 1941 words I wrote while I was high on Nyquil.

It’s not awful, it needs some work, but I did get some ideas down that I had notes on.

Instead of the quote “Write Drunk; Edit Sober”

I like “Write High; Let Someone Else Edit”