Monday, September 23, 2013

A Poem Early in the Week

I wrote this poem a while ago but had not been able to get the video edited until today.  It's called Spiral Bound

Spiral Bound

She starts an act of interruption,
feels a tug inside a lung
where the word 'finish' has stuck
inside pockets eager to claim
anything of value.
She's a spiral bound person
flipping through catalogs of potential.
What she wants, she denies.
She inflicts her abandonment philosophy
before she can begin.
A game of avoidance, a dance of preservation.
She wallows in dreams
she has no intentions of pursuing.
She quotes quotes about the journey
as she slinks away from closure like a fox
dodging hounds.
She wields her weapon of choice,
the procrastination broom
which sweeps the hairballs and dust
from one room to the next
just to prove something moved,

because she moves, at least she moves.

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

The Things I'll Say

I'm a chicken even in the cyber-world.  Oh and cute animals will prompt gooey responses even if they are little cartoon blocks.

Actual quotes from yours truly while playing Minecraft:

just walking around - "Oh hi there pig.  You're so cute.  Oh and you're following me.  I don't even have a carrot for you.  Look at that face.  Honey look, a pig is following me for no reason."

killing a cow - "Oh don't look at me like that.  I'm hungry, I need food.  I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry."  (I still killed it, poor thing)

attacked by a spider - "Ah he's attacking me, he's attacking me!  Take that you spider bastard!"

standing atop my glass biodome - "I see you you sneaky skeleton.  You can't reach me with your arrows, nah nah nah nah nah.  Look honey, I'm taunting a skeleton."

attacked by a baby zombie - "Baby zombies are evil.  I hate baby zombies.  He won't die!  Aggh, I'm being double teamed by baby zombies.  These little devils are so fast and they keep hitting me from behind!  I'm going to kill you, you devil babies!"  (at this point, my husband sitting next to me in our shared office has begun to laugh hysterically)

attacked by another monster - "Oh no, my sword broke!  I'm hitting it with seeds.  Get back, get away from me.  I'll beat you, I'll beat you with seeds and you will die!"

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

It Came Naturally

It's one thing to ramble on your blog about yourself sharing the weird minutia flying around in your brain, and completely another to write a bio for your book.  So I'm realizing.

Suddenly a short two paragraphs describing myself feel like a bubble of gloom about to pop over my head.  How can I convey my need to write, my love of words, my sense of humor, a little capsule image of who I am?  How do I do that right?  I certainly don't want to bore people so that they go cross-eyed and begin to think eating a carton of rocky road ice-cream while screaming out the car window on an all-night drive to the insane asylum doesn't sound too bad.  I've been there.  (Not to the insane asylum, nor have I screamed out the car window all night.  Come to think of it, I've never eaten an entire carton of ice cream in one sitting either.  So I haven't been there.  Note the italics, that's a key clue.)  I've read that bio.  It basically goes like this:

Harry Author writes books of scary horror while working in an accounting firm by day.  He has awards for his last three novels The First Novel of Harry Author, The Second Novel of Harry Author and The Third Novel of Harry Author, which include The Super Awesome Writer's Award, The Novelist's Choice for Most Interestingly Boring Author Award...

and right about word 12 of that bio my finger twitches, one of my eyes starts wiggling and twenty hairs just behind my left ear tingle.  Then I turn the page and think, "Jeez, I hope the book isn't like that."

I know what I want to read when I read an author bio.  I want funny, I want personal, I want quirky.  I want to know who the person behind the text is and I'd like to be entertained by it.  Let's face it, for the most part, if I'm reading, I'm doing it for entertainment's sake.  I don't have a litmus test for authors in order to read their book.  I don't particularly care if they've won awards or written the definitive works on soil contamination under the paws of brindle boxers.  I don't think authors who have finished university degrees in English, literature, English literature, or any other degree are going to write something magnitudes better than someone who hasn't.  If you're a story-teller, you are what you are.

-----Please note:  I am not disparaging having a degree in English, literature or English literature or any other subject.  A degree of any kind impresses me, truly it does.  I am not disparaging having awards.  I hope to have some awards myself someday.  I mean, it'd be nice.  I'm just saying, give it to me with some fun.  Add some damn unicorns dancing on rainbow covered clouds.  Something other than a comma delimited list dryer than uncooked oatmeal.  It's not enough.--------

I'd like to make my bio what I would want to read, but I also want to look professional.  So as I sit here contemplating myself, the natural answer came to me.  Blog.


from board: Week of September 2, 2013

Thursday, September 05, 2013

Random Insignificant Thoughts

I do not like the color combination of mustard yellow and grey.
image found at:

I'm never quite sure if I should spell grey with an 'a' or an 'e'.  I prefer 'e'.

I started using Trello and am now addicted.  Get organized - check it out.  (It's also available as an app on your phone, so you know, while you're out and about, you can keep track of your to-do stuff.)

I started playing Minecraft and am now addicted.  We play as a family.  The kids mainly like to go out at night and kill monsters.  I tend toward the farming - I don't know why.  My husband does a lot of mining.  I started mining some, I like it more than I thought I would.  "That's all I have to say about that."

image found at:
'Creepers and Zombies and Endermen, oh my!'

It rained most of the summer.  I have not completely melted, but an odd side-effect is that I'm looking forward to the snow.  Huh.

I have become completely fascinated with artist teddy bears.  You should check them out.  It is so not what you would expect.  These are not cute bears, they are gorgeous bears, with stories in them.
image from Etsy shop UnOursonSurLaLune:

I'm writing a story about a dog toy that got chewed up so much it becomes a sort of zombie teddy bear.  I call it Dead Teddy.

I cannot get used to the idea of high-waisted pants.  This just does not look flattering to me, at all.  (Maybe it's just a hang up because of the whole idea of having had babies and NEVER wanting to give in to the idea of 'Mom jeans'.)

I'm in the last stages of preparing my book for publishing.  I feel like I found a baby animal in the forest and nursed it and watched it grow and now I'm supposed to release it into the wild but I'm afraid for it to be out on its own and I just don't know if I'm ready to let it go.

I have been experience some sort of bad car karma.  I've had three incidents (an unjust ticket that I have no idea what to do about so I'll probably pay just to get it off my plate, a child dinged someone's car door, and I ran a red at the last second which was such a stupid thing to do.)  I spent the last fifteen years not getting one infraction.  I drive like a granny because I think cars are such potential killing machines, that's my way of making sure the 'safety' is on.  Yet here I am with bad car karma.  I may have to hold some kind of seance or cleansing with dried sage, I'm not sure.


Week of August 19, 2013 board: