My Filofax is Here!

Stationery nerds, your attention please: I have obtained the Holy Grail.

My Filofax Malden is here.

With all the time-management I’ve been attempting, I’m hoping this is The Answer. Mine and C’s work schedules, story notes, publication planning…I even bought a four-year-at-a-glance calendar to track my word counts. I’ve always been best with tactile information.

Plus, I’m a big fan of “permanent” things. Smart phones are nice; I have one and (mostly) love it. But if you get a big ol’ scratch on your cell phone, that could be the end of it. Five years from now your cell phone will be embarrassingly obsolete. I wanted something that will only gain character over time. Something made to last. I’m thinking this bad boy will see me through the next decade, at least, and I love the idea of seeing it age and change right along with me.

No rebooting, no charging. Room to doodle. The pleasing smell of leather. The ability to reorganize everything whenever life changes.

I am a very, very content little nerdling right now.

No, You Can’t Borrow My Pen

A writer needs a totem: a lucky charm that ensures the Muse keeps showing up. It’s like the athlete’s lucky socks, and I wouldn’t do without one. Mine? Pens. Getting the right one makes all the difference between free-flowing thought and maddening scratchiness. It’s imperative to never, ever be without a pen.

This pen costs $825.00.

I think I’ll stick with my Space Pen.

Write Your Words

(This is mostly me trying to motivate myself. But if you need a good kick in the pants, feel free to join me.)

So you wanna be a full-time author? Wanna get paid to do this all day? Wanna work from home, with your cats and your coffeemaker?

You’ve done the planning. You know where you’re going, and how to get there. Now what’s the first step?

Write your words.

Tired? Too bad, write your words.
Cat threw up? Clean it up, then write your words.
Feeling uninspired? Start with something, anything, and write your words.
Other things to do? Self-doubt? Not enough time in the day? Worrying about whether this whole thing will even work out? Just plain don’t feel like it today?

Too bad, so sad, get off your lazy ass and write your fucking words.

You don’t get there by being lazy. You don’t get there by being hesitant.

You get there by working your ass off, sacrificing, and then working some more.

You can sleep later. Now it is time to WRITE YOUR WORDS.

Creepshow: a Comic/Horror Classic

I found a copy of Creepshow on the weekend, sitting sad and lonely on the five-dollar shelf (at the store where I buy my yarn, go figure). It’s been a while since I’ve watched this one, so I brought it home.

Sunday looked like this:

Since it had been so long, though, there’s one scene that apparently I forgot having seen. Or blocked out. Either way, when it came on, it made me feel five years old again. There’s something about cockroaches…their nasty little legs…their hard, glossy shells…the way they tunnel through your flesh…

Check out the scene in question here, then go compulsively clean your house. I suggest the bathroom, first.

Sweet Meats: Art by Helga Petrau-Heinzel

Guess what this is:

Welp, it’s not meat.
It’s marzipan, that crushingly sweet almond-and-sugar treat.

“Satisfied with her first marzipan artwork, Helga started making even more repulsive sculptures, like animal organs and rotting pig heads. She admits her creations look so real she herself is sometimes disgusted by them.”

Check out her other morbid meats at
(Heads up: artistic female nudity at the site)

(via Oddity Central)

Late-Night Horror Hosts

Elvira. Vampira. Zacherley.

Horror hosts introduced cheesy horror movies on tv. They’d have their own schtick, their own characters. They’d pop up at commercial breaks, to lighten the mood and provide a little comic relief.

Growing up in Canada, we didn’t have late-night movie hosts. Not in my area, anyway. But even then, somehow these characters worked their way into my life. I knew them even if I’d never seen them “live”. One night, a few years ago, I finally managed to catch one of these campy, low-budget cable access horror shows. I stayed up until something like five a.m., just to see every last bit.

Then tonight, I found American Scary, and now I get to participate in a horror institution, even if it’s only vicariously.

Watch along with me: