Archive for November, 2011

That’s my question of the day.  Violent may be too strong of a word but grumpy doesn’t do it for me either.  Don’t get me wrong.  I love the pretty lights and the trees and all that stuff.  It’s the shopping.  Some of it you just have to go to the stores for.  Stores mean people and at this time of year it is going to mean a lot of people.  People who push, drive stupidly are rude and generally get on my nerves.  I’ll do as much as I can on line now but eventually, there will be a run to the mall or two.  And if I can get out of there with half of what I went in for and not wanting to punch someone, I feel I’ve had a successful journey.  Is it me?

My anti-social behavior aside, I’d like to ask you to take a moment to look around the new blog.  To the right are links to my writing friends, either their blog or website.  Check them out, there are some awesome writers over there.  And at the top are still some of the reviews from people who have read my book, Brimstone Blues.  You could take a moment a read a couple of them too, you know, just because it’s a cool book and these generous people are telling you why.

So what do you think of the new look of the blog?  I like it.  I think it’s more appealing to the eye and since you’re taking the time to read this, I should take the time to find a more appealing blog look, right?  😉


I’m Under Construction

I’m under construction here as you can see.  I picked a new theme that I think will be easier to work with so I can list the blogs of my AKA Literary cohorts and if you’re here reading, you can actually see them.  It’s a work in progress.  I have a lot of those so give me a little bit of time and things should be better.

Speaking of the blogs of my writer friends, Louise Caiola, writer of the recently published book Wishless, had another, Katie Lee, host her blog and I have to say one of the things she wrote about really struck a chord with me.  You can see that link and go read it yourself to see the whole thing and read about Wishless, but I’m going to talk about what hit me.

I thought I was the only one who had a fear of some universal published author quota.  She goes on to explain that isn’t true but I can’t help but be afraid of it anyway.  I know there’s no monster under the bed but you’re not gonna find me with my feet dangling over the side tempting fate either. lol  I want us all to get our dream contracts, but I want my dream too and each time I see a new book come out on the market remotely like mine or something I would have written, it feels like there’s some Writing God checking off the amount of books until he says, “Okay that’s it.  The rest of you are screwed.”

The chest-tightening panic of it wasn’t me, maybe I’m not good enough, mixed with my pathetic puppy dog-esque “pick me, pick me” bouncing is enough to make a person bi-polar. lol  Or catch the attention of a tally keeping God.  I know there’s no quota.  I believe I’m good enough.  But that contract would be better sooner than later.  You know, because I don’t want to tempt fate.  lol

First Edits For An Anthology

Last night I was asked to do the first edits for my short story in the latest anthology that’s, well, being edited.  I think there are three more anthologies out there somewhere in the editing process.  I hate doing any kind of editing but it’s always so exciting to get that email because it means the book is coming with my story in it.  It so cool just to be in a table of contents, I don’t know what I’ll do when I have a whole book to myself.  A small heart attck may be in order. lol 

And I have another story ready to go for the next series of anthologies that I’ve somehow managed to make into all of.  It’s written and edited so it won’t interfere with the books I’m writing, but these are a series from Wicked East Press and I’ve gotten in the first couple so now it’s become a personal mission to see how many of the anthologies for this series I can get in before I get the dreaded rejection and break the streak. lol  It might be this one, who knows?  But I won’t until I email the story, right?  This is a bad luck story for me even though I like it.  It’s been rejected everywhere I’ve sent it, and, no, it’s not my poor unloved little house troll. lol  His story is a page in this blog which I think technically makes it a published work anyway, just not professionally.

So that makes 3 magazines and 7 anthologies.  Now I just need that dreamed of book deal.  So if you’re reading this, please repeat this phrase:  Please, God, Goddess (whomever you pray to) help Terrie to find the perfect editor who will love Krista’s first book and snatch it up.  Thank you.  🙂

I Have No Snappy Title

I’ve thought about it and I just don’t have a quirky title to go there.  Sometimes it just doesn’t work out that way.  It doesn’t mean the content will suck, though you might not like it.  Some writers don’t title their books until they’re done writing so I don’t feel so bad about not having a title for a blog post.  😉

So I heard a couple of Black Friday horror stories yesterday.  One guy waited in a check out line for 3 hours.  Another had to walk for a half an hour from a totally separate parking lot to wait in line to get into a store after the mad rush opening had already happened.  They’d have to be selling book deals to get me to go out for that stuff.  Then, yes, definitely, my out of shape self will haul ass from the other parking lot and throw some elbows to get into the check out line. lol  Maybe some pixie dust.  I don’t know.  But not regular stuff.  No way.  But I think I expressed that well enough yesterday.  Let’s move on.  It’s Gray Saturday.

I think there should be a new tradition started.  I like to watch some football but I think there should be a horror movie-athon for the rest of us.  And I mean good stuff.  I’d even go for that reality ghost haunting, not hunting, stuff.  All right, I watch some hunting sometimes but I’d so much rather hear a real person’s real story.  I want to be scared, real or fiction or real made fiction.  Maybe the adrenaline would help us digest faster.  Who wants to start a petition?  🙂

Your Turkey Is Cooked

Yeah, I know it’s your goose is cooked but I don’t know anyone who eats goose on Thanksgiving.  So it’s done, over, you’re bloated and don’t want to move.  Still.  Maybe you put on some sweatpants, because your jeans aren’t fitting right now, and did the Black Friday thing.  Oh, you brave gothlings.  I’m staying home with the motionless ones and plopping my bloated self in front of the computer to write.  So I hope everyone had a good day and feels like eating leftovers for the foreseeable future.  🙂

Anyway, this is it.  This is supposed to be the season when publishing sloowwss down.  So write something that you’ll have time to make great when everything starts back up.  I’m not saying it’s stopped.  If the cold is making your mind stall out write something for a small press or an open magazine and build your bio, that’s never bad, remember.  But publishers have families and holidays too.  Even if we don’t want them too. lol

I’m sorry.  I know this one isn’t very dark.  I think I’m still high on turkey.  I’ll try to do better tomorrow.  I know you all seem to like the weirder posts better anyway.  But even a grown up goth girl has good days once in a while.  🙂

A Short Post For Thanksgiving

First of all, Happy Thanksgiving all my gothlings and darklings and lovelies out there.  I hope that as you all gorge yourself on whatever part of the meal is your favorite you come up with lots of great ideas to write about.  I hope I do to. 🙂  My plates a little full.  Ha, I didn’t even notice the pun until after I typed that so it’s staying.  But, anyway, never ignore a good idea, whether it comes over turkey or pumpkin pie.  🙂

So now I’ll go because I’m sure we’ll all be busy little gobblers today and I have to go dye my hair Starry Night Black in honor of the holiday season.  It’s pretty dark anyway and I got a complaint that the purple was starting to show through again.  Who knew purple hair dye would last so long?

Happy Feasting!  🙂

I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s something wrong with 3 a.m.  No one should be awake right now but here I am, posting my blog for the day.  It’s too early to do anything, there’s nothing on TV and no one’s online.  I’ve given up going back to sleep so the coffee has just finished brewing.  As a matter of fact, let’s just stop here for a second so I can get a cup.

Okay, skull mug of coffee and cigarette in hand are assurances that I won’t want to sleep again until 6 a.m. when it’s too late to do anything about it.

So do I write now and run the risk of it being all deletable once I read it in the sunlight?  Or do I just wait for the sunlight?  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had this internal debate.  Writing will probably win.  And it most likely won’t need to be deleted.  Fixed and altered, yes.  But garbage, no.  I guess a writer will take any opportunity to write.  Even if it’s at a time you’ve learned to dislike.

I’ll Share a Nightmare

Since I didn’t post yesterday, I post something from my twisted little mind, my gothlings.  I had a nightmare the other night, obviously, and I’m going to hope that you being the type of people that you are, like me so it’s not an insult, understand what a nightmare entails.  It is not always being ridden by the Night Hag or the Mare, which I have experienced and it is not pleasant.  Sometimes it’s just your subconcsious talking to you.

All right, so here we go.  It took place in two littlw shops joined into one in the town that I grew up in.  I don’t know what other people saw but I could see an evil little elf like creature who had found a way to make his trade in the current times.  In his shop were the dreams that you would ever want.  The house, the trip, the baby, the money, anything.  He had a cashregister but no one ever checked out because in order to take these things in the end he got your soul.  He was jolly, friendly, more than happy to help and he did not like me.  But how does he confront me without blowing his merry cover with his customers?  He can’t.

So I go through his store grabbing everything I can.  Every dream I know that the people I love hold dear and my arms are over-flowing as I head for the door.  I know if I can just get to the door and outside, these people will be safe because I know the truth and they aren’t my dreams.  I’m gathering dreams for others.  For some reason there’s a miniature jumbo jet that I’m trying to hold on to that keeps slipping because my arms are so full.  But I’ve got to get theses dreams into the sun.

I woke up after that.  I know I was close to the door and the little man was furious with evil rage and I was scared.  So what is worse?  That I knew the truth or that I don’t know if I made it?  Or was it just a stupid dream?  I’ll let you decide, my darklings because I know what I think is true.

A Sunday Poem With My Post

I couldn’t think of a long enough post, so here’s a little poem for my lovelies.  🙂

Slipping so swiftly through veins like venom

And all that you know in your heart is you want some

And that’s where it goes, the changes they start

Straight through your soul a direct shot to your heart

You pursued the creature like you were the monster

Now you left to ponder and wander

Was emotionless really the feeling to take the place

To save yourself from what you thought was so pain laced

Okay, not my best but I haven’t written a poem in a while.  The point is, did you know that you can actually die from a broken heart?  You know that feeling you get when you get dumped or that special someone says something particularly evil and your chest tightens and it takes your breath?  Like 40% can actually die from cardiac arrest from that.  Now I don’t know if they started with a weak heart or not but we’ve all felt that pain at one point or another and wished to not feel anything at all.  It is the rare and maybe unlucky person who has never felt heartbreak.  It is a severe but important life lesson to learn.  I, personally, have wished for death just to end the pain of heartbreak.  Now let’s not go all suicidal, darklings, it’s much better to come out the other side and find the person you’re meant to be with.  But I thought I would share that little tidbit on a gloomy Sunday.  Let’s not have any cutting or anything like that.  Just go put on the Cure’s Disintergration, get it all out and know that somewhere there’s a pot of gold on the other end of the gray rainbow.  And be glad you’re not that 40%.

Writing For the Dead

I think that it takes a lot of imagination to write for the dead.  Obviously, none of us are.  Or are we?  Posing as living creatures writing about a world we know but pretend to not?  That’s a story I’ve been batting around my head a bit.  But back to my point, a lot of us write about paranormal things and we have no idea what it is to be paranormal beyond what we’ve read from other authors or watched in a movie.

Then we dig down deep and think about how a creature like us but so very not like us would behave in our society.  They would have to have societal rules of their own, right?   Their wills and personalities would have to be strong to survive the grave.   Would their other emotions be just as strong? 

But that does give us a lot of room to work with, doesn’t it?  The unknown?  I can’t think of another genre, except horror, that I’d rather write about.  Thankfully, it seems to be the one that I’m drawn to.  😉