An October Update

Howdy. Is everyone ready for Halloween? I’ve been obsessed with Dissidia: Final Fantasy Opera Omnia (see the pic of me as Aerith!) for the month, so things have slowed down a little.

We had a blast at our Halloween party:

I am Deadpool!
Deadpool!!

I was Deadpool, and we had friends from all over come to join in the festivities. (I didn’t kill anyone with my katanas, much to my husband’s chagrin.)

Work continues on The Janet Project, and I’m looking for an agent. I’m also pleased to say that our local Keyport library will be hosting my first two novels, Librarian and Apprentice, so if you’re local… well, check it out! Literally. Ha ha. That pun works on so many levels.

xoxo

Dancing Makes Heroes

It’s been several years now since I started taking dance lessons at Fred Astaire Manasquan, doing both ballroom and Latin. I never thought I had the personality or the courage to stand up in front of others and shake my booty (PS: my favorite dances are the foxtrot, Viennese waltz, and the paso doblé; Dana, don’t make me swing!).

Yet I found myself performing showcase pieces at holidays like Christmas (I was dressed in a onesie and looked like Elf on the Shelf) or competing in in-house competitions (horrifyingly scary). My teacher, mentor, and [sometimes] shrink Dana has taught me so much about myself I cannot recommend more highly the benefits that dance gives you. Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally — it’s a powerful craft that really brings the best out in a person.

It informs the heroes in my writing; it informs me as a person.

My husband and I had our first lesson in about three months (2019 has been hectic, and we haven’t had time to go) last night, and it was lovely to foxtrot with him, even if he stepped on my feet during the twinkle-to-grapevine. (Yes, that’s a wonderfully fruity move.) Partnership is a wonderful thing, and even if it’s just you and your instructor, you’ll form a bond that lasts a lifetime. I’m fortunate enough to dance with Chris — stumbles and all on both sides! — but seeing what dance does for everyone in our dance family is wonderfully uplifting and I always leave with a smile on my face.

Soooo… dance, team! Dancing makes heroes of us all.

[P] is for Protagonist, Help!

An update long time coming! The talented Anisha Dadia is finishing up the audiobook of Apprentice, so we should see that available for purchase in the upcoming weeks! HUZZAH. Hours of eloquently narrated text perfect for the car or sessions at the gym as you get your workout on.

On another note, work on my next project, The Janet Project, (no pun intended), has begun! Everything is outlined and ready to roll, but I’m having trouble with the name of the protagonist… it needs to begin with a “J,” but nothing is speaking out to me. It can’t be “Jacob” (those in the know, know why). Ideas?

People with the perfect J-name will get a special mention in the acknowledgments section of the novel. 🙂 Email me or leave a comment! THE BEST J-NAME WINS.

PS: our families are finally happy; we did the big wedding thing! I might have pictures to follow.

Double PS: I will soon be collecting more Masters, and if you haven’t checked out The Literary Review, you should!

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.