Tickled to Tell

Got lots to tell you all today. It's a little crazy as usual, but things are coming together. I've finally started 'Chasing Monsters'. I only got 400 words in, but it's a start. I just have to re-learn the art of not caring what I write now, and edit later. I've been second guessing all my sentences. But at least I've started. I'm also pleased to announce that advanced copies of 'Thoeba' are available. Heather Savage is hard at work getting it ready to go and promoting the heck out of it. To order your guaranteed advanced copy, contact www.staccatopublishing.com I'm so excited!! Meanwhile, "Entities Unknown" is having our first fundraising garage sale. It will be on May 12th and 13th. It starts at 8 am and will go until 4 pm...or 6 pm. Depends on how many people we get. The address is at Brandy's house--3415-138 ave. Edmonton, Alberta. Bring your friends and family! We are also having a bottle drive and a jar for 'Pennies for the Paranormal'. If you can help us out with that, we'd be grateful for any contribution. Thanks! Hope to see you there!

Crazy Nights

Sorry everyone...I don't actually have time for a real post. I'm busy writing an outline for 'Chasing Monsters' while writing bios for 'Entities Unknown'. I'm still trying to find time to write the erotica. I still do Food Bank twice a week and 'Wing Nites' on Tuesdays. I've been attending meetings for Edmonton Paranormal every second Saturday and on Wednesdays for 'Entities Unknown'. Did I mention we'll be doing garage sales? Our first one is next weekend at 8 a.m. at 3415-138 ave. Saturday and Sunday. I'll probably be tired because the troll's birthday is the night before, and I still haven't figured out what to get him. Also we have a silent auction coming up. I still have my walking workout on Monday mornings and Thursday afternoons. My spring cleaning is finished, but I still have to finish raking the front lawn, and I have to bottle the Strawberry Riesling wine I made. Right now I have to go grocery shopping because I have company coming tonight after I take Sully to the vet for a booster and after I do the walking workout. Whew! Did I forget anything?

Fear of Flying Solo

I'm having a hard time admitting to this. No, I haven't got writer's block. At least not exactly. 'Thoeba' will be out in June, and my beta readers are reporting favorable opinions about 'Aphrodite's War'. It's time to start writing 'Chasing Monsters'. In fact, I've started the character resumes and the outline. The problem is...I'm nervous. This will be the first time since I started writing Thoeba that I will have no critique partners. I will be writing my novel without anyone to tell me when I'm being cartoony, or how I could tighten my sentence a little more. There will be no one there to check my grammar or give me kudos for a nice turn of phrase. I'll be going at this alone and it scares me a bit. What if I compose the entire book and find out it sucks and I can't write without someone holding my hand? What if I discover I'm really not that talented? I feel like I'm sitting on the edge of the nest and somebody is fixing to kick me in the pants. Still, I'm a big believer in change being a good thing. In a lot of ways this will make me a better writer. I will be forced to rely on myself rather than anybody else. It will give me a more critical eye. I will learn a new kind of discipline. Besides, this ties right in with my tendency to do things BECAUSE I'm afraid of them. There are hundreds of writers out there who've never even HAD the benefit of crit partners. I'm going to count myself as fortunate, and use all the valuable things I learned from Suzanne, Jan, and Dawn. It's time to jump off the branch head-first.

Get by with a Little Help From my Friends

Been really busy lately. Mostly getting the little things done. Writing outlines and guest blogs...herding cats. Snow tires are off and I'm almost finished washing walls. I love my friends but I SWEAR the next time one of them says "Oh hey, you could come wash mine." I will scream. Seriously. Is that supposed to be funny? When I meet you people in hell, I'm going to ask, "Hot enough for ya?"

Nah...Even as I bitch, I smile. It's months like this that I'm grateful for the whole bunch. It never ceases to amaze me how I wound up with them in the first place.

Growing up, I was extremely unpopular. Being the only one wearing Metallica and Megadeth shirts in a town of 2000 will do that. I had three friends.

I don't know when my loner tendencies came to an end. I think it started with Facebook. I only joined because my writer's group demanded it. As resistant as I was, it let me keep in touch with all my new friends who shared a common interest in the gift of words. Then it happened...Highschool classmates that I thought didn't care about me friended me in droves. As my confidence grew, I attended places like EPIC, Kendo and writing clubs alone until people started talking to me.

And thanks to facebook, I was able to hang on to people I used to work with as well, despite how job situations change and we all move forward with our swamped lifestyles.I even kept friends from therapy.

I was shy and moody. Now I'm happy and overwhelmed with my love for all kinds of people.

And the best part is the variety! Everybody's there from Christians to Zombiewalkers. I have a smorgasbord of writers, jewelry makers, photographers and other creative people. There's paranormal interest peeps, gays, lesbians, school chums, bikers, goths, kendokka, former employees and co-workers.

All of you make me feel RICH, and you've made my life interesting. This post is for you.

*And a shout out to Dawn Ius, another good friend I met through a writing group. HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAWN!! (She's the brunette on the right in the photo. She did my wedding photography)

Uninspired? Clean your desk!

Yeah, I know. A clean desk is the sign of a sick mind. Don't worry, as I write this I'm already getting hummus on the keyboard.

I know my last post was rather sad (Freya is doing just fine) and last week I didn't bother but that doesn't mean I sat on my butt wallowing in contrition. No,I got busy. I made wine from a kit and I washed walls. I ran errands, made appointments, and spent much needed time with friends.

Today, I tackled my desk. And it felt good.

The fun part of cleaning your desk is the treasures you rediscover. Here's some of mine:

A stack of business cards, all from the new friends I made on my trip to Washington three years ago.

An R2-D2 USB key.

A button that says 'Be a Goddess" advertising thegoddessblogs.com

A card representing the word I adopted but rarely use--'macellarious' It means pertaining to butchers. "In matters macellarious, you can speak to Donna, the former Meat Manager."

Old critique notes from 'Aphrodite's War.

And a recipe for Monster Breakfast Cookies...which I'll share with you.


MONSTER BREAKFAST COOKIES

1/2 cup butter, softened 1 cup brown sugar, packed 2 Eggs
1/2 cup canola oil 1/2 cup of honey 1 tsp. vanilla
3 cups of instant oats 2 1/2 cups Robin Hood Nutri-flour blend 1/2 cup ground flax seed
1/4 cup sesame seeds 1/4 cup poppy seeds 1/4 cup regular flax seeds
1 tsp. baking soda 1 tsp. cinnamon 1 cup raisins

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease or line baking sheets with parchment paper.

2. Beat butter and brown sugar until creamy. Beat in eggs, one at a time. Add oil, honey, and vanilla. Add next six ingredients. Stir in raisins.

3. Place 1/4 cup dough for each cookie on baking sheets. Flatten slightly.

4. Bake in preheated oven 20-25 minutes, until golden brown. These cookies freeze well. Makes 24 large cookies.

How do they taste? I have no idea. I don't bake.

A Cat Mommy's Guilt (Blogging, smoking and crying)

I wasn't going to blog today. I had decided today was one of those days where I said 'screw writing' and took the entire day off from it so I could nurse my cat to health. But I'm a writer. It's how I express my emotions. And Freya needs to rest without my constant hovering.

Today those emotions are relief, happiness, and trepidation topped with an avalanche of guilt.

My sweet kitty Freya has suffered a collapsed lung. I'm heaving great sobs of shame as I write this. My head throbs from the hourly tears I've cried since I learned of her injuries.

I've been letting Freya off her harness. There is nothing she loves more than exploring outside and chasing birds. And we have a small problem with swallows trying to take over our attic. I thought, "One doesn't keep a mouser tied up, why should I keep a bird huntress on a leash? Besides, it makes her happy."

Yesterday around lunch, I checked outside, which I do frequently, to see if she wanted to come in. She was waiting silently by the door. She came inside without a word. Very unlike her. She talks a lot for a cat. She was FILTHY.

"Oh my God, Freya," I said. "What did you do? You SO need a bath. You're not getting out of it this time. Where were you?" Not a peep from her. I continued to babble at her about what a mess she was. She was walking funny.

You know how cats have that effortless grace when they walk? Freya made it look awkward-like she was tiptoeing gingerly. She headed downstairs. She'd descend two steps, stop and rest. Two more and rest.

An awful thought stuck me, and I don't even know where it came from. Someone once told me that animals look for a dark quiet place to die. So I brought her back upstairs to watch her. That's when I noticed she was breathing heavy--and with every breath her flanks quivered. We left for the vet immediately.

When they told me it was a collapsed lung, I knew it was my fault. Nobody could tell if she'd fallen, or been attacked or hit by a car, but it doesn't matter because it's my fault for thinking SHE would be okay roaming unfettered. SHE was a smart cat.

But I think my friend Colleen is right. Knowing how Freya avoids traffic and strangers, this was probably not an accident. I remember the mark on her back--One long muddy curve in the precise shape and width of a bicycle tire. Somebody, perhaps one of the many kids in this neighborhood, or maybe my crude and creepy next door neighbor, went after her and deliberately hurt her.

Pure speculation. Nobody knows what Freya endured before limping her way home.

When people find out that Freya got hurt because she was wandering freely, they say 'lesson learned' and 'at least you got her to a vet in time'. It isn't that comforting unfortunately. This mistake could still cost my precious angel her life. She's not out of the woods yet.

I can't help feeling this is probably some kind of karmic butt-kicking. This is for all the times BEFORE I had a pet (Freya and Sully are my very first pets ever) when I would roll my eyes and think "It's just a pet...Why get so upset over some animal?"I can guarantee you I'll never say THAT again.

But yes, there are lessons learned here.

1) Trust my instincts with my cats. Rhonda is right. They will tell me what they need.

2) Never think it can't happen to me/my pets. Just because cats are intelligent, doesn't mean the people around them (including me) are.

I never had children, so I guess i never really learned this one before, but...

3) Sometimes keeping the ones you love doesn't always mean doing what makes them happy, but it's doing what is RIGHT for them--for their own protection. I need to be a more responsible pet owner. For Freya and Sully's sake.

I'm just praying it's not too late.

No Rest for the Wicked

I guess it's official. After going to EPIC meetings for over a year,writing consistently for the Edmonton Paranormal newsletter, and taking a position as writer for 'Entities Unknown', I have joined Edmonton's coolest paranormal investigative team in a new capacity. I am now the 'Client Liaison'.

When Ehren first approached me with the idea, I balked. I didn't think I was qualified to talk to people on a regular basis. I consider myself a little reclusive. While I'm accustomed to complete strangers approaching me and telling me their life's story, I never understood why. I asked him, "Does this look like an approachable face?" To which he replied, "Well yeah. You DO have an approachable face, and you're easy to talk to."

Oh. I guess the angry teen-aged headbanger I once was is buried beneath my laugh lines. Well!

So I thought about it. Why not me? I'm spiritual and sympathetic. I strive for professionalism and I don't judge.

Besides, this means only an hour or so of my time each week. I just have to keep in touch with clients through e-mail and facebook. Yeah, like I don't do that kind of thing anyway. This will also mean going on the occasional investigation and hearing great stories about real-life ghostly encounters.

So aside from writing novels, blogs and paranormal articles, I get to experience the paranormal world firsthand. Guess I can't say my life is boring anymore. In fact, I'm incredibly busy these days. But you know what? I kinda love it.


Photo by: http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/view_photog.php?photogid=1256