Here I go venting again. I swear the newer things get the more complicated they get. It isn't just the laptop either. Every new app you download comes to you like a diva with major attitude and a Histrionics issue.
"I want to do this."
"Well bitch I'm not going to let you do that.'
"But I could so it with my old pc and the old app."
"Too f'n bad because I'm not going to let you do it."
"Because I damn well don't want too."
"You're supposed to be newer and smarter than the old stuff."
""I am and that why I can sit here and tell you to go screw yourself."
Really? This is progress. The newer it gets the less you can do with it and the stuff that it will allow doesn't get you anywhere except to make things worse. I want something simply and easy and does what the hell I tell it to. I don't need some temperamental piece of s*^t software dictating to me what I can and can't do. How the hell is this progress.
Even the stuff you have relied on in the past has become a pain in the ass on a new PC. Let's take Paint for example. This was a simple little app that if you were smart enough to figure out how to use the limited abilities of the damn thing could do a fairly decent job. No more. Once you have a new PC even that little piece of s*@t app has developed an smart-ass attitude. Right in the middle of something it can and will come back and go,
"Screw you I don't want to play anymore so you can no longer have that pic."
"Really? You were just letting me work on it not ten seconds ago."
"Well I'm done now and that is too hard. Find something else I like better."
As old and slow as my old PC was I'm about to think I want to go back to using just it. Screw all the updated, new, improved, state of the art crap that is going on with all this latest garbage and let me grow old with my old stuff and die a happy old lady moving along at my own little happy slow pace.
Well didn't think I did anyway. So what did I do? I went and entered a stinking contest. Yes a writing contest. What kind do you think I would have enter, one for flipping basket weaving? I don't know a damn thing about basket weaving. Of course I didn't know anything about writing when I took that up, still don't, but didn't let that stop me. Wonder what you need to have for basket weaving.
Anywho. I thought I would give this thing a try and see what happens. I mean what's the worse that could? I get loads of reviews telling me what an awful writer I am and totally have what little confidence I have in myself crushed resulting in me spending the rest of my remaining years under my bed hiding from the world. Or worse yet, no one reads it at all. Oh the horror of it all. Well I have gotten at least one shining review. Great review. I mean out of this world review. I should know, I left it myself.
Anyway the title is 'Vampires, Werewolves, Zombies, and Ghouls Need Not Apply.' If you get a chance please check it out for yourselves. Hey it's free and it's a short story so none of your bitching about, well what will it cost me and I really don't have time, just get of your butt and do it. Don't worry I can't see anything other than how many votes it gets. Oh yes and vote for me too.
Time to run and get some things done. Have a good one and enjoy reading.
Here's the link.
I'm sitting here with a mild case of food poisoning, I hope that's all it is, and should try to get some rest but as usual I can't. The written word calls me. You would think that at this point I would be ready to put this thing down and do something constructive. Wait I am, I'm making books, wait that didn't sound right. I'm writing books and short stories so I am doing something constructive.
OK so I write does that mean I have to be stupid? Think about it a minute. I know my tiny little brain needs sleep as does my whole body but I can't sleep. I keep thinking of all the things that I need to be doing.
Well I can't help it. I have always had a very active mind and it's very seldom it is still. I swear I think it's trying to kill me. Hey wouldn't that be a hell of a title for a book? 'My Brain Killed Me', or 'Death by Brain', how about 'The Night My Brain Stabbed Me in the Back.' I wonder how a coroner would list that on cause of death, suicide or murder? Think about that a moment. It really would be both. Of course the brain picking up a knife and then stabbing you in the back would be a bit of an issue. Unless it forced your own arm to do it. Then you have to think about, well even if it did force your arm to carry out the horrendous act have you ever tried to scratch your own back. There are place you just can't reach and you taking a knife and trying to deliver a fatal blow, well it just can't be done I don't think unless your a contortionist. Of course you could always use the knife to scratch your back so there is that. As a matter of fact your mind could tell you that you are just going to scratch your back and then when your back is turned your brain delivers the fatal blow. You still have the problem of being able to get your arm back far enough to be able to get it in the right position to get that damn thing buried in just the right place to accomplish a quick clean kill. My luck I would hit a kidney and end up in the hospital first for the injury and then a mental ward for trying to kill myself. Don't let us even get off on the fact that you screaming it was your brain and not you. That wouldn't go over real well and only serve to get you committed for the rest of your life.
See my brain is never still and who else would come up with that scenario. No one but a crazy sleep deprived writer, sorry but I have another story to go and write.
Oh the reason for the so sorry. I'm sorry for letting this thing get published with so many errors in it. Why I let this get published that way was inexcusable. Sleep deprivation will do bad things to you. I hope I got them all fixed but if not oh well, we all know I'm crazy anyway.
I hope everyone will check out my short story name of which is listed above. If you do read it please sure to leave a review and vote on it. It has been entered into a contest so go enjoy the story and check out some of the others at Inkitt. Below is the link. Thanks.
Last night someone posted something on facebook and it is the scariest thing going around these days. No it isn't a TV show either nor, and this is hard to believe, is it politics. No, it's a commercial.
Every time this thing pops up on my TV I have to change the channel or cover my ears. It is everything I can do to keep from running in my room and hiding under the bed or in the farthest reaches of my closet.
Now I really thought that I was the only one who felt that way. I had no idea that there are others out there who are as bothered by this image as I am. So who or what is it? Well I hesitate to say but if you've seen the old guy being paraded on the commercials for a certain fast food chain you have the what I'm talking about. Damn are they trying to scare away customers? I actually stopped there tonight to grab something quick for dinner because my husband and I had a long day and both of us were tired. I kept peeping around corners afraid this ghoulish representation of a once well loved figure was going to pop out at me with a hatchet or something. The back door opened on the place at one point and I damn near peed my pants.
What's the deal with companies wanting to raise the dead? Do we not know that Marilyn Monroe, Clark Gable, and Elvis Presley are dead? To be honest there are a lot of Presley impersonators out there so that one isn't quiet so freaky.
Come on people, leave the dead buried. I can't but wonder what that dear old gentleman would say about what they are doing to his image. If there is anything I would censor regarding a child it would be those damn commercials.
I'm all for a good horror story. Hell I write horror stories and I cut me eyeteeth on horror. I've loved horror all my life so if I tell you this goes beyond frightening believe it. I think we should raise up our voices and make them rethink they promotional avenue and turn down a different path. Don't be like those stooges in the movies and continue along a road that leads to definite doom. This one may end with murder and mayhem.
I have to say that I must have the most understanding and loving husband there ever was. I spend more time with my laptop than I do with him. Poor man. Between his work and me on this damn thing we're lucky if we manage to have a decent conversation. Our moments have become the time we spend across the table from one another when we're eating or when we are in the vehicle driving to or from somewhere. Oh and the time he spends leaving work on his way home. He calls me the minute he leaves the office and we talk during his drive home and usually end when he pulls up in the driveway. The one thing I make sure to do is to meet him at the door or even on the front porch as he drives up. I refuse to be the type of woman who can't meet the man she loves with a smile and a kiss after he has worked all day. Yeah I'm a real catch.
I just finished the last book and was planning on taking a few days off and decided there was a story that couldn't wait. What can I say? It is a short story so I should be finished with it tomorrow and I promise to walk away from this thing for a few days.
We do have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow so not a lot of alone time but I can't guarantee that my laptop won't be hidden somewhere in the truck tomorrow. It a big truck there are plenty of places to hide it.
Still I wonder, can a laptop be named as a co-respondent in a divorce?
An excerpt from my new book
Marcus looked up quickly when he thought he heard something out in the water. He scanned the surface of the lake but could see nothing. As he started to turn to go back to the car he thought he heard someone call his name. He looked around him but saw nothing or no one. He was alone by the lake. When he had pulled in here there had been another car parked a little ways down from him but now it was gone. He was surprised that he hadn’t seen or heard it leave.
Again he thought he heard his name being called but there was no one there. His name came again and this time the sound was louder yet it had a softer tone to it. When he heard it the fourth time he was drawn to it. Slowly he began to move in the direction he thought the sound was coming from. The soft sweet voice continued to call to him drawing him ever closer.
Marcus was unaware when his foot stepped into the beginning edge of the lake. His mind didn’t register it when the water level reached his knees. He continued to march steadily forward edging toward what he suddenly thought was paradise. If he could make it to that wonderful voice all his troubles would be over.
By the time the water was up to his chin Marcus was so withdrawn from his surroundings that anyone seeing him would have sworn that the man was out of his mind. Of course they would never have known what to think when he suddenly stiffened and then screamed as something under the water reached around his legs and pulled him under the surface. For a couple of minutes you could have followed the bubbles along the surface as the air left his lungs and filled with liquid. Of course it wasn’t drowning that finished Marcus. It was the long deep gash that was torn down his middle. His intestines floated out from his body and rippled out behind him like the streamers at the end of a child’s kite as he was drug deeper into the depths of the lake.
Well I managed to get about an hour and a half of sleep today so I can't tell you how long I'll make it the rest of the day. After finishing a book you would think the work would be over, right. Wrong. It has only just begun. At least that is the case for me as I's sure it is for most of us little or totally unknown authors.
I fall between the little or totally unknown close to the bottom category.
Oh well you have to crawl before you walk but at my age crawling around on these old knees is not only real slow going it's painful as hell to boot.
Anyway why does the real work begin now that the book is finished you ask. Well first you do a self edit and hope you're not too stupid or too blind not to see most of your mistakes and let me tell you I make a lot. Once this is done you have the corrections to make. You now have to work on the cover, No that's a real bitch especially since I do my own. Now while you're working on the cover I may make another run through of the book and then more corrections to be done. Yes there will be quite a few I missed the first time. Now at this point I will hand it over to my editor with confidence that I've got this. I've managed to turn over to the person who is going to judge me on my grammar and spelling with high hopes that my judge, jury, and executioner is going to come back with an innocent verdict and that my work is pristine. Again WRONG. I've been handed back a collection of pages with more red marks on it than there is black ink, or so it would appear. Of course what follows that? More damn corrections.
I'm seriously thinking about going back to school to take a remedial course in English. Hey I've been out of school for a hell of a long time and I don't remember the last time I diagrammed a frigging sentence so cut me some slack. To be honest I may not remember the exact time did diagram a sentence but I have a very good idea of when I did I just refuse to admit how long that has been.
No there will be something new in this book that I have not included in the others. There will be a map added of the make believe town of Tiner and the make believe lake that it sits on. I am putting a list of all the characters who have been in all my books in the series just so people can keep up with who's who and what their claim to fame it. I run character's in and out of my stories like it has a revolving door and not a simple cover. Hum, I wonder if I could make a 3-D book cover resembling a revolving door. Don't underestimate me I will probably try just to see if it can be done.
Anyway I'm tired as hell and still have a long way to go. It's to bad that reality isn't like fantasy sometimes. Imagine what my world would look like it things went in the real world like you picture them in her head. Anyway off to fix dinner, yes I do cook, occasionally.
It is done. I finished the book. Now I have to sit down and read through it and and correct any glaring mistakes.
This book has taken on so many little facets that it ended up surprising me. It didn't end quite the way I had intended. There came along a twist to the story I hadn't expected. I don't really know if I will keep the ending but probably will.
I wonder how often a writer falls in love with one of their characters. I did. Don't get me wrong I love all my babies but this one, this one was different. I made this one truly come alive in my mind. I understood this one. Will they come back, I don't know but if they do they will come alive in another book. A story of love and loss.
For now they are all tucked in bed and sleeping soundly. The rest is up to me. Now it is 6:39 in the morning and I haven't been to bed so you can excuse the wanderings of an old lady suffering from the lack of sleep
"Rest we my Sweet"
Well I'm almost to the end of book four. I'm getting excited but also a little sad. I get like this as I finish each book. You get wrapped up in the story and hate for it to end. Let's face it writing is nothing more than you putting down in writing your own fantasies.
Sometimes those fantasies are fun and quirky, some are filled with creatures that haunt our dreams, while others feed a need that we are missing in our lives. Mine are the creatures that haunt my dreams.
I can pull them out and dust them off and then kick their butts until they are no longer a threat to my inner child. Does this sound like a a bunch of psychological bull crap then so be it. My suggestion is you sit down and start writing down what is in your head and see what you come up with. The creatures from your id will come flooding forward and pour out into what your writing.
As for my inner child, well she probably needs to be pulled out and dusted off and have her butt kicked as well. Hey I've admitted it before and I'll admit it again. I'm nuttier than a fruit cake and not ashamed to admit it. I'm also a weird, morbid, and a little wicked. Go me.
Anyway at this point I'm tired and will be even more so by the time I finished this book. As you get closer and closer to the end the culmination of all your work is here and you, like your reader, are dying to see how it will come out. I know the writer always knows but I don't believe that for a minute. I may have an idea how or know which way I want it to go but until I put the last punctuation mark on my story I really have no idea where it will go.
What I do know is that I wouldn't change this turn my life as taken. I write for myself. I do it because I enjoy it. I hope that my mind stays active and that I will be able to produce stories that I love and am proud of.
So the next time you tell yourself you want to write a story my advise it to sit down and start writing. You never know what amazing journey you might find yourself on and who knows, you might became the next great author.
She was definitely a few pieces shy of a complete Erector Set.
"Nice equipment." said Alison.
"Don't I know it."
Would someone please make him stop excreting humanly body fluids?