Venus Wink Chain Sword!

Husband and I decided to celebrate a love for Sailor Moon and got some tattoos that’ll line up when we hold hands! AWWWWW! Isn’t that cloying?

He got Sailor Pluto’s “Dead Scream”…

Dead Scream!

…and I got a rendition of Sailor Venus’ attack, “Venus Wink Chain Sword” from the new version of the anime, Sailor Moon Crystal.

Venus Wink Chain Sword!

Those shots are as the tattoos were in-progress! The end results are FAB-U-LOUS.

…meanwhile, as I type this, husband is in the background shouting, “AREN’T YOU HAPPY? DON’T YOU LOVE HUSBAND FOR STAINING HIS SKIN FOREVER TO HAVE A STRONGER BOND WITH YOU?”

…this is our home and how we speak.

PS! I submitted some poetry from my chapbook, so *fingers crossed.*

Zombified Flash

It crept upon me, its icy-cold touch a vice on my soul. Light, it said. Give me light, it craved.

The creature’s desire was too strong, and its psychic hold tightening around my heart compelled me. I shall give it light, I thought.

But then I fought back. I cast Fireball. I was a goddamned wizard, after all. Even if the Fireball was more of a potion than a spell.

That evocation only spurred on the creature’s anger, so I brought forward the power of light, whispering the arcane words that summoned it from the ether as I twisted my fingers in sublimation.

And I fell, slipping from cool granite and into oblivion.

Okay, okay… 🙂

Cliché experiment done!

I attempted to change a lightbulb the other day by climbing atop the bathroom sink, slipped, and nearly killed myself, which would be extremely inconvenient for anyone waiting to see Freewoman’s completion.

A few shots of Fireball may have helped this. At least there wasn’t a concussion, just… ZOMBIE FOOT!

ZOMBIE FOOT
Do not fall from sinks.

A Day in the Life

Our Oscars party went smooth as lube, but we were severely disheartened to watch La La Land not win. 🙁 Poop.

Anyway, it took some guts but three poems submitted — three poems of the more raw, emotional sort (and by that, I don’t mean an emo 18-year-old in a basement; just tough stuff). Huzzah!

We took the day off to clean up after our revelries last night and did a bang up job of the cleaning part. Now? Working. Notice the image.

More news to come soon. <3

2016 & …?

I have not blogged in ages.
I haven’t written in ages.

Poor Lenna!

As I mentioned in my last post, I did scribe the ending to Freewoman, the final book in Lenna Faircloth’s trilogy. Of course, all that did was garner a surfeit of queries as to when the book was coming out…

Well. My urge to kill Lenna is only mild at the moment, so 2016 is still looking ever so rosy. Mainly, though, I’ve been preoccupied with numerous Big To-Dos, like moving, the holidays, and getting the kittens to stop trying to maim each other. (See above: a rare moment of peace.)

I have set aside some “staycation” time so that (1) we can unpack the kitchen and pretend to bake like Mary Berry, and (2) I can stop fretting myself prematurely grey.

TL;DR version:

Freewoman is on its way; I am turning silver; I go to the gym a lot; I do not dance nearly as much as I should; three cats is a bit much for two people.

x

Writing Getaway; Or: Writing, GET AWAY!

The boy had the sudden (whether it was opportune or not is debatable, since we had to wake up at 4:30 this morning) task of traveling for work up to Connecticut, and as I’ve been going a bit stir-crazy of late and may have been on vacation this week anyway, I said, “BAO GOES TOO.” This was very exciting, especially since it came off the back-end of pumpkin picking. Pumpkins are a particular… fascination of mine.

Punkin Time

Fortunately, despite the chilly weather, heated car seats and a Xanax meant I snored through most of the journey, and now I’m wandering about like a lost puppy in this giant resort. (I have had to ask for directions twice and already have been asked if Sunset Shimmer was my good luck charm.)

Good news is! While under normal vacation circumstances I would most likely be drunk or eating the entire time, I’ll be spending most of the week cranking out the first proof of Freewoman and working on two separate serials for my favorite magician, Jacob Orange. Productivity, here we come! (Mostly. Right now I’m having a Cosmopolitan and considering spa treatments.)

…oh, me.

A Rant; Or Rather, an Angry Diatribe about GoT

Okay, as a writer, I understand that there are scenes that move along plot and are sometimes hard to write and can be quite visceral to readers. Sometimes, that is the point of writing those scenes. Hell, I was asked if I’m just killing off gay characters because they’re gay (don’t worry; I’ve knocked off 3 straights in book three already!).

But the Game of Thrones HBO adaption is gratuitous in its violence against women, both adult and young. I’m not even on the finale yet and I’m appalled by this season (compounded with others). Yes, men meet horrible fates too, so you don’t need to berate me about Theon Theon Theon and his lack of a tallywhacker. There is just such an overt sexualization and abuse of women in this series that it leaves me gobsmacked that people aren’t made uncomfortable watching this.

We have a responsibility to recognize, learn, and stop the atrocities that have been afflicted on women historically, but this drama is *NOT* history (though Martin and others claim it’s all inspired by historic events such as the War of the Roses — and subsequently explain away how this level of violence is fine and dandy).

This is a fantasy show with horrific pacing and horrific acts of violence against women just for shock value, and it just gives me pause when I think, “…why are people entertained by this? Is this what we want to see?” Because I can guarantee one thing… it certainly isn’t teaching anyone about equality, history, or the horrors real women all over the world suffer daily. It’s glorifying these awful events as entertainment.

I haven’t watched the finale yet, but I’m already so uncomfortable I had to leave the room. And there is no come back that says, “The finale will make everything better.” Because no. The rape, the abuse, the misogynistic sex — hell’s bells, what on earth are people enjoying about this and what the hell kind of people write this?

Feel free to disagree — I don’t mind and don’t mind anyone who likes GoT. I just can only watch so much rape or murdering of young girls before I get angry. And for the die-hard fans, Arya Stark doing something AMAZING eventually is not going to make up for all of the treacherous treatment of women by this series. Yes, bad stuff happens to all sorts of people in Game of Thrones, but you’d have to be blind not to see that this mostly happens to women. This show sells abuse.

Okay, rant over. Sorry… but not so sorry for saying what every man and woman should be saying. *clicks post because, unlike Theon, I’ve still got and deserve my junk*

Such May-ness

Yikes! It’s been forever. I did not exactly fall off the planet, but I got quite close to the Moon. More on that — and the poems that resulted from it — to be covered another time.

Apprentice (hardcover) went live back in December, though due to a panoply of ponderous circumstances, I didn’t get to promote it much (or at all). Don’t worry: that’ll change very soon, starting with some giveaways that I’ll announce in a few days. 🙂

On a fanciful note, MasterChef Australia is currently my snuggly lifeline to sanity; even the cat — more on him another time, too — knows not to eat the houseplants during my nightly voyage into the world of Ozzie home cookery.

And while we’re on the topic of food, I just got back from my St Cross reunion in Boston. (It was a complete blast to reunite with Oxford peeps and then faff about Harvard Square in an awesome hat.)

Anyway, because I’m compelled to go to dive bars with scrumptastic reputations, yours truly found himself at a biker bar in Derby, Connecticut eating food (in a completely INAPPROPRIATE HAT) that could drop an elephant at 20 paces.

Behold the gloriousness of the Parmesan Butter Bacon Garlic Burger, courtesy of the Dew Drop Inn:

My Death on a Plate

…this probably explains my lack of appetite for the last few days. Burp. Keep it classy, kids, keep it classy.

 

West Coast Inspiration

China BeachSo yes, I’m on one of my retreats to the West Coast! Humidity and nasty heat claimed my East Coast Pine Forest like a Texan noms on barbecue, so the immediate desire to flee to a place with better weather and a different sort of energy consumed me. I also had to see a man about a cat.

I’ve been slightly detached from the blog and even Apprentice itself as I experienced one of the rare joys a published author is afforded — nothingness. Sure, the thoughts were still bursting around in the head (I’m not sure that ever stops for a writer), but with the manuscript off to the copyeditor, I could very happily divorce myself from worrying about book two for a few weeks. It’s NICE.

But then you get the itch. I had planned to get some writing done while away, but it wasn’t the hugest of my priorities. Then, as I took a two hour stroll (me, strolling, two hours, I know) along China Beach and Land’s End, BAM! It happened. Book three (I already have a lot of it outlined, so it’s not like I’m starting from scratch) has its first proper words. Rather, its first proper scene! Chapter one, scene one, written. And I am pleased. 🙂 Lenna’s ending draws nigh, but at least we see the return of some fan favorites…

Book Three SpoilerDon’t worry… not all is what it seems! In any case, while I nurse my sunburn and cook my rabbit (really — I have a rabbit to cook), know that I’m writing/living/working/loving just so I become a better Brian for all of you supporting me back home, here, and abroad! I miss you all so much!

Book three, here we go.

Book Three - Beginning

Reset the Net

A lot of my friends and family members don’t seem to realize how vulnerable they leave themselves in regard to Internet. I’m not just talking about ‘hackers’ or those ‘nasty viruses’ you get from downloading porn (you know who you are): governments and corporations also use loopholes and dubious means to extract what we think is private.

Sign the petition and get the privacy pack. Protect yourself; reset the net.

Out of the Box

I’ve been a bit silent lately, I know. One would like to think that’s because I’m knee-deep in Apprentice edits — which, by all means, is where I should be — but the truth is that I’ve been contracted to do some translation work in Manhattan. The commute from the moon is insane. MERG.

I don’t even have time to put my ponies back in their pony-box, and so they gradually start to assemble around my keys, sayings, “No, Brian… don’t leave us!”

Pony Control
They are holding my Magic Mouse captive.

Worry not; though! Tomorrow is the last day. I WILL FINISH THE BOOK THIS WEEK. REALLY.

All I have to do is survive tomorrow.