Monthly Archives: January 2012

A Little Light-Hearted Saturday Fun

What with the big serious death post the other day, I thought I’d lighten the mood a little. Enjoy!

not my image, found uncredited*

*I can’t find the photo credit for Cookie…anyone?


I Want to Believe

This one has spooked me for years.


Real Live Death

Most Thursdays I watch The First 48.

Being from a (very thankfully) low-violent-crime area, the show is shocking. It’s sad, and morbidly fascinating, as the cameras pan through bloodied crime scenes and show blurred corpses laying about. The past few seasons I’ve noticed the shows have been much more censored in terms of what we are and aren’t allowed to see. I respect that, in terms of protecting the family, but the show has lost a lot of the impact it had before.

Still, death is interesting. In fact, I’ve thought about doing crime-scene and decomp cleanup for a living. It’s interesting, the things that bother some people and not others. Gore bothers me, sure, but it doesn’t scare me at all.

The recent censoring begs the question: how much is too much? Should we be allowed to see real death on television? What if the death is self-inflicted?


Horrors of Home Ownership

As you know, my most excellent husband decided it would be good for me to have my own creative space. Someplace to write, and knit, and drink tea, and have brilliant thoughts.

“Wonderful!” says I, and we commence dramatic upheaval.

Upstairs goes downstairs. Downstairs comes upstairs. Once the furniture is in place in my swank new digs, I realize the carpet is pretty shabby. And nasty. And I figure, hey, we have hardwood under there (as evidenced by my horrible cats who pull at the edges). Let’s just rip up the carpet! Sweet! I never did like that carpet anyway.

So we begin cutting up the carpet. And rolling it back. The floor looks a little…iffy…but it’s a 100+ year-old house, it’s going to have issues. My dude gets it all pulled up and

WHAT THE DEAR SWEET JESUS IS THAT.

You know how some people maybe aren’t great at stuff? And how they should just own up to that fact, and maybe not do things they don’t know how to do? Yeahhh. The previous owners of our house took it upon themselves to GLUE carpet down, on what was at some point beautiful hardwood. That picture? Totally not the worst of it. I spared you. You’re welcome.

Unspeakable horrors have occurred on this floor. I daren’t speak of it, but I’m pretty sure it’s haunted.

Tomorrow: laminate-flooring shopping, then attempted installation. Pray for our fingers.


Rejected.

It finally happened.

I got rejected this week—twice!—for two different pieces, from two different markets. Honestly, until now I’ve been incredibly fortunate. The work I’ve been submitting traditionally has hit the right publishers at the right times and was accepted every time. Up until now, I’ve enjoyed a perfect run.

It was bound to happen, and to be honest I thought it would be upsetting when it did.

But I’m okay.

I thought I would take my first rejections personally. I thought I would judge myself harshly and feel rejected as a person. But I don’t. I’m still new to the publishing game, and it would be unfair to myself to expect perfection. Either the work I submitted was good, just not for those particular markets, or it sucked and I just didn’t see it.

That’s the important distinction. The work might have sucked. And if the work sucked, it doesn’t mean I suck. It means I have more to learn, and hundreds of thousands of practice hours ahead of me.

Everyone expects to be able to write right from the start, because we all know how to put words on paper. But to be able to write well, that’s the part that only comes with hard work. It comes with failing, and hating it, and starting over.

And now that I know it’s not the end of the world, I’m less afraid of the next time. It’s a little liberating, actually.


All Work and No Play…

From The Shining movie

I’m taking the night off blogging to get this house in order. BUT at the end of it all, I’ll have myself a shiny new office. Then, such horrors will I write, such wonderful, terrifying horrors…

Check back tomorrow for more guts.


Kinetic Typography

“Kinetic typography—the technical name for “moving text”—is an animation technique mixing motion and text to express ideas using video animation.” (Wikipedia)

I’ve seen some of these before, but an airing of Pulp Fiction last night brought them to mind. I love how the addition of text adds another layer of interest and mood to these scenes.

If you’re anything like me, you’ll find it impossible not to read along with the words the characters are saying.

A new favourite is this one, for the novel House of Leaves, a uniquely-formatted book that’s next to impossible to describe.

What do you think? Does the text add to the emotional experience, or detract from it?


New Story: What’s Inside

Cody knows there are babies inside Mrs Chappel, and she won’t let him play with them. He decides to get them out, one way or another. 


What Are You Afraid Of?

Happy Friday the 13th!

Since I’m not exactly a superstitious person (I write this with a black cat in my lap), I thought it might be interesting to learn about what spooks other people.

Here are some of the more obscure phobias I found via Wikipedia’s List of Phobias:

1. Agyrophobia, the fear of crossing the road
2. Chaetophobia, fear of hair
3. Ebulliophobia, fear of bubbles
4. Gymnophobia, fear of nudity
5. Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia, fear of the number 666
6. Hylophobia, fear of wood, forests, or trees
7. Osmophobia, fear of smells
8. Oikophobia, fear of home and appliances
9. Phagophobia, fear of swallowing
10. Somniphobia, fear of sleep
11. Tetraphobia, fear of the number 4
12. Scoleciphobia, fear of worms

and…

13. Paraskevidekatriaphobia, fear of Friday the 13th!

What scares YOU?


Thank You

I always said I’d consider myself a successful writer if, one day, a complete stranger walked into a bookstore and decided to buy my book.

Things are a little different: I’m not widely available in print (yet!) and ebooks aren’t sold in stores. But I have been selling, and selling to people I’ve never met.

That’s exciting, because people who don’t know me don’t feel like they “owe” me. Friends, family, and coworkers have been supporting me from the start (and I love you guys for it, and you’re wonderful!). It’s different, though, with someone I don’t know. For a stranger to decide to take a risk on my work, to even go so far as to throw down some of their money…it’s an amazing feeling. They’re judging my work for what it is. They’ve sampled it, or read the free story, or whatever, and decided my writing is worth buying.

Without “obligations”. Without personal bias.

I just wanted to say thank you. Thanks to everyone out there reading my stuff, in whatever form, and a special thank you to all you “strangers” for taking the chance.

You make me want to work harder and be a better writer, even though you’ve already made me a success.


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