Little Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet eating her curds and whey
Along came a spider
Sat down beside her
And little Miss Muffet picked up a shoe
And beat the little bastard to death.
What brought this one on you ask? Well Sir George loved to amuse me with fairytales and nursery rhymes when I was growing up. Little Miss Muffet was just one that came to mind this morning. I could recount the story of Little Red Riding Hood but that would take a while and my memory isn’t quite that good. To do it complete justice I would have to be able to remember it exactly as he told it. I will tell you that instead of the story ending with the wolf trying to eat Red he and Red united and rode around on the back of his hog, no not a pig but a motorcycle, with her toting a machine gun in a violin case and the two of them going of on criminal escapades. The Little Miss Muffet one is pretty close but I’m sure I don’t have it quite right but it’s close enough for you to get the idea.
Big Brother, Sir George, thank you for making my childhood far more interesting than most other kids and painting such wonderful and colorful tales when I was younger. I figured out that you are the reason why I love horror and science fiction so much. You truly did and do have a wickedly beautiful mind.
For those of you who wondered why I felt I needed to clarify what the hog was, remember this was a nursery rhyme and some might have actually thought I meant a pig. Now that I think of it though, it does make for an interesting image.
I’m always astounded by the response I get when most people find out that I’m a writer. No not amused, surprised, shocked, or even slightly irritated. No, the truth is, absolute astonishment.
Why is that you might ask. Yes I get the occasional surprise from the other person, sometimes they appear to me shocked, I love that one, I even get a ‘you’re kidding’ once in a while but these really just amuse me. The ones that get me are the people who comes back with certain types of questions.
These people look at me and usually start out with the word, ‘oh’ and follow it up with ‘children’s books?’, ‘romance?’, ‘cook books?’, and the one that really surprises me, ‘erotica?’. I’ve heard of dirty minded old men but evidently people seem to be of the mindset that most older women are just as dirty minded as old men. Who knew? None of these things fit the kind of writing I do. I’m a horror writer. I do hauntings, murder, mayhem, a little gore, and on occasion sexual situations. Notice the way I put that last one. There is a reason for that. You want to know why then I suggest you read the books. OK I have to admit that when it comes to the gore it gets to be a bit more than a little. You start leaving bodies lying around or collecting them and stacking them up somewhere and yes it gets a little messy.
Why is it that when a woman gets to be a certain age, or a man for that matter, we are expected to fall into a little pigeonhole that is comprised of what I consider as boring, mundane, and generally expected of grandmotherly, or grandfatherly types. I’m not saying that I think these things are necessarily boring, I’m just not into them but with the younger ones among us I get the impression they do.
So here’s a heads up for you younger people. Remember that yes we older are older but that means we have been around longer, seen more regardless of how much we may or may not have traveled, we’ve lived lives, made mistakes, had our accomplishments, fallen and gotten back up, loved and lost, and that was all before a lot of you were even born. Since then we’ve been on a roller-coaster ride while you were learning how to walk, talk, and you getting ready to take your place in life.
One day you’ll understand that your life doesn’t stop when you reach a certain age, which only happen upon death in this life, but the accumulating experiences of like keep coming until you take that final breath.
So what have I experienced that led me down the path of writing horror? That’s a whole other story.
There are three things I try to stay away from these days when it comes to conversations with people. I don’t talk religion, I don’t do controversial issues, and no matter what I try with all my might not to discuss politics. That to me is the biggest no no there is right now.
No matter which side of the whole thing you’re on nothing anyway can say is going to change that. I have never know it to be as bad as it is tight now and I stay away from it. You post something on facebook that shows up on my timeline I don’t like I either scroll right on past it without even bothering to look or I just hide it and move on. If this offends you then I’m sorry but if you post something I think is stupid believe me you really do prefer that I just move on and keep my mouth shut.
Here’s the thing, the person who posted whatever crap I find stupid is going to think the same thing about me if I open my mouth to disagree so why go there. Personally I don’t understand why people are still posting some of the things they do this late in the game. Unless you know a way to become a part of the solution and not someone who wants to stir up crap for the sake of stirring up crap then let it go.
The problem is someone making a direct statement to me that I had to just walk away from and believe me this one was really hard. Not going to go into it, oh and believe me I could, but all it would be doing is me venting to no real purpose except to bore the tears out of you and make my nerves stand on end. NO thank you. It wasn’t this person’s political stand so much as how they expressed it. It bothered me for many reasons. I pay attention to how people say something as much as what they say and this just made me sad. The end of that.
I’m trying to get people interested in my books not alienate half the population or more, hopefully less, and me ending up in their cross hairs isn’t what I’m going for. I manage to do that enough without me regurgitating a bunch of crap that boils down to my personal opinion and you know what they say about that. The thing is, who am I to try and change someone’s mind. Oh friends and I’ll will sit and talk about all those things I mentioned earlier but we are friends. No we don’t all see things the same way but we know one another and we like each other. We are also friends and even family and we accept one another for what they are whether or not we see things the same way.
On social media it’s another story. It doesn’t matter if we are friends on facebook, we follow one another on twitter, or anything else along those lines we don’t really know one another. I don’t know what your situation is or what your home life is like any more than you know anything about mine. Hell you may have a perfectly sound reason for believing whatever stupid crap you believe just like I have a damn good reason for believing whatever stupid crap I believe. Also just because we have the ability to reach thousands of people through social media that doesn’t make us the all-knowing guru with all the rights answers. That’s something we should all consider. Let’s say you have a thousand followers on facebook and you post something that you feel is so important, earthshattering, monumentally moving that it’s going to make a difference and you may get 1, and let’s be generous here, to twenty positives responses. This means that you have the potential of having 980 to 999 people who think you are total moron. Personally I don’t like those odds.
That’s why I stay away from those subjects.
Some of us don’t like change. Some of us thrive on it. As we get older those changes can be harder for us to accept. Lately I’ve been making a lot of changes. Oh not in where I live or the people in it but it the way I do some things. I’ve started to look at ways to improve certain things one of which is how I promote my books and myself. Let me tell you that’s the hardest thing to do I think.
I have to admit I’m hard headed, stubborn, and at times a pain in the arse. Hey, I’m who I am and I have lived with me for a lot of years and who knows me better than me? If I can’t be honest with myself how can anyone expect me to be honest with them?
I do try to temper my honestly with others most of the time because what I’m willing to admit about myself doesn’t mean that others are willing to admit their shortcomings. That’s OK with me but it means when someone ask you if they look too big in that dress and it actually makes them look like an elephant in something that Omar the Tent Maker whipped up you have to say no. That’s an extreme example and possible politically incorrect but, oh well. You get my point.
Now I’m not going to go into some long diatribe about something or someone because first it wouldn’t do any good and second since you couldn’t name the person or thing that it involved what would be the point. If it won’t fix the issue or piss it off why bother.
That’s something that a lot of people don’t get. If someone is an asinine idiot they are going to be an asinine idiot the rest of their lives and all you’re going to do is end up upsetting yourself more and you certainly won’t change the other person.
So if it is someone or something you care about then accept the way it is and move on. If not, cut it out of your life. That’s one of the changes I’m learning to make.
Emma made her way to the kitchen and turned on the lights. She was pouring the tea into the glasses when she thought she heard something in the living room. She left the glasses on the counter and went into the dining room. “Aunt Charlotte?” She wondered if her aunt had forgotten something and returned downstairs as she was putting ice in the glasses and just hadn’t heard her. There was no answer from the living room so she decided that her aunt hadn’t heard her.
Emma headed into the next room calling her aunt’s name when there was a big streak of lighting that lit up the darkness. The bright flash revealed a woman dressed in the clothes from the turn of the twentieth century standing next to the old desk. When the room went dark again Emma found she was shaking a little. Damn she must be tired. At that moment another flash of lightning illuminated the room and there she was again. The lady stood staring at Emma with a look of deep sadness in her eyes and then was gone. Emma couldn’t help herself, she screamed.
I do get my inspiration and ideas from everywhere; a person standing outside a restaurant, a space that catches my attention, a picture. Sometimes it’s hard to shut my mind down and not think. OK I know this makes me sound like I’m some super intelligent person but the truth is I just have a very active imagination.
Where does this get me? Well a couple of times almost in a loony bin, deep breathes of exasperation from my husband, a few “really mom” from my daughter, and more than one really hard look from people who think I’m staring because I’m rude. Yes I know it’s rude to stare but I consider it more studying than staring.
The thing is most writers do this whether they admit it or not. We watch people. We investigate places that draw our attention, and some of us carry a camera, don’t let that phone in my hand fool you.
When home I’m almost always glued to my laptop. It’s not that I’m always writing because I can get caught up research. Although I have learned to walk away and take some down time my mind doesn’t shut down often. That one is a little harder to do for me.
The thing that really helps me to deal with this crazy head of mine is this group of wonderful friends I have. Day or night I’m going to find at least one or two who like me have minds that work overtime and when needed they are there for me to bounce ideas off of, listen to me bitch, or when needed a shoulder to lean on. Don’t worry I return the same. I could go on about this group of people that really needs its own little spotlight but this merry little band of artist of all different types are all members of the group The Creative Evil Female Mind and Other Evil Geniuses. The greatest group of women and men you could ever ask to have in your life.
Back to the inspiration part of this. It doesn’t matter what you do; be it art, home life, work, or just doing the things you enjoy doing, Get inspired. Find what makes you happy and do it, as long as it doesn’t bring harm to another or break any laws. I know so many people who are searching for something and chase all the wrong things. Hey if you don’t like fishing then don’t fucking fish. I know someone who is actually going through that right now. You are never going to find what makes you happy as long as you follow someone else. Step up to the front and take the lead in your life.
Me I’ll continue to watch people, check out places, and take pictures. Once I take the picture then I head down another path to get from it what I can and see where it takes me.
Oh if you see a crazy looking old redhead running around with a phone in her hand it's probably me so don't be afraid to say hi.
Before I start this little roll down memory alley I need to let you know a little more about me. I’m not a real big drinker, of alcohol that is, so me getting tipsy not to mention falling down drunk isn’t something that happens very often. Well the falling down part never. When I say not often on the tipsy part well the last time I think that happened was three years ago. No, I’m not on the wagon that’s just about how often I drink anything and I have a very low tolerance to the stuff anyway. Yes I get a little tipsy when I drink one glass of wine when I drink because I do it so often. OK get your snickering over with and let’s move on.
The second thing you should know about me is I have a fear of falling. I’m not talking just a little apprehensive discomfort, I’m talk full on phobia here. I’ve actually had people try to cure me of this to astounding degrees of failure. One incident involved pulling me onto a log ride and sticking me in the very front. My brother Mike was directly behind me and knew this would take the fear out of me the minute we tumbled over the top. Well in a way he was right. The fear did leave me as soon as that thing made its downward tilt because I immediately passed the hell out and went limp in his arms. I came to when the water flew up and hit me square in the face at the bottom of the damn thing so needless to say the only thing I remembered about the fall back to earth was the slight titer totter that took place as the ‘log’ balanced at the top before it took its earthbound plunge.
Does this teach my brother or any of the others in our group that day, including me, no. They talk me into trying it again, I never said I was a coward, only this time they will put me in the middle and instead of my brother being the one who takes on the part of my support is Herb a guy that my brothers and I have been friends with since we were barely out of diapers. As a matter of fact my youngest brother Terry was still in diapers. Anyway away we went. The tick, tick, tick of the chain making contact with whatever it is under that damn fake log sounding like the tolling of a funeral bell to me. We get to the top, the tittering thing happens and then down we tilt and out I go. This time however I because I was sitting in the middle I didn’t get hit with the water so I woke up to being slapped in the face by Herb. Wait maybe I should think about this a moment. Did Herb figure I would pass out again and thought this might be his chance to get even for something I might have done to him when we were younger? Oh well if so maybe he feels even with me now and I’m safe. I hope.
Several years ago my wonderful hubby had to take a little business trip to Denver and he drug me along. This was something he started doing on a pretty regular basis after our girls were grown and we only had one another to look after. After spending three and a half days by myself while Buddy took care of business, I was fine with that by the way, we headed up in the Rockies. We are driving up this little two lane road cut into the side of a mountain and let me tell you there were some steep drop-offs along that road. My hubby as is his habit loves to take advantage of this and deliberately point things out that he knows are going to make me go white as a sheet and two sphincters that control a certain part of my body to draw up so tight that I’m surprised that that body part ever works normally again.
We pass a sign that says ‘winery up ahead’ and a small sense of relief takes over when I think I shall get a short break from the constant mind numbing fear that I feel at that moment. I’m also curious as to what the hell is a winery doing up on the side of that damn mountain.
“Hey, a winery.” I point out to my hubby.
“OK.” Was my husband’s response.
“Can we stop? I didn’t even know they had wineries in the mountains.” I know I’m going to get my way so I’m not concerned here.
“Sure, I you want to.” See.
We stopped. The first thing we are told as we enter after the usual hellos and few pleasantries you receive from people working in retail we are informed that you can’t taste more than five of their wines. Well that was a first, but what the hell. I usually don’t try more than that anyway but it was the first time I had ever heard that. The next thing I noticed was she poured even less into the glass for a tasting than anyone I had ever seen before. OK so they are a little tight on the sharing thing. No that isn’t it at all.
I actually did try five wines, they actually had some good one. I’m feeling nothing after the fifth one and with the amount of wine we tried this wasn’t surprising. I can usually try four or five wines when we stop at a place like this with no real issues. Then we stepped outside. I took a deep breath of low oxygen air and it hit me. I’m talking a great big whopping ‘oh boy what the hell is this’ type of hit. I cannot begin to explain the absolute magnificent feeling of total giddiness that overtook me. I’m talking I suddenly became the world’s happiest little camper that ever was. So happy in fact that I didn’t bother to ask my hubby if it had the same effect on him. I found out later that it didn’t, his tolerance to the stuff is far greater than mine, a lot great actually.
Back in the car we go and I suddenly I have a whole new outlook on the road, the scenery, and the prospect of us soaring off the side of a mountain. The road is great, the scenery is fabulous, and wow want that trip down be a hoot until we hit bottom. Whoopee. I will have to say that my hubby is getting concerned about my mental state at this point even if he is enjoying the fact that I’m not gasping and digging my nails into his arm on occasion now. The rest of the drive up to Estes Park is a pure joy for the most part except toward the end the lovely little feeling of the combination of a little bit of wine on my almost tee totaling self and the oxygen deprivation had worn off. I was sorely tempted to pull out one of the bottles of wine we had bought and chug it however Buddy nixed that idea. Damn joy kill.
I did at one point enjoy a glass of wine later on where we were staying but by then I had gotten use to the high atmosphere so no go. Evidently you only get one ride per trip so that’s a real bummer. Hey it’s been a while, maybe it’s time to make a trip to the Rockies once more.
OK I’m getting ready to release a new book but this one will be different. First it will be free in eBook form. Now if any of you have read the short stories on my website I’m giving you a heads up and letting you know that most of the stories can be found there. There might be a couple you haven’t read but for the most part they are here.
There are also two other writers that are being spotlighted in this book and one is a published author the other is a newcomer and I have great hopes for this young man.
Matt may have an old soul but let me tell you it can be dark as hell. He is someone who’s work I do enjoy and find him a totally interesting person. He isn’t afraid to dive head first into the unknown and I can tell you me and some of my friends have taken him to some strange places. The guy is a trouper and has a great sense of humor.
Patricia is a published author and for someone who chose the field she did to work in it sometimes scares me what can come out of this beautiful young woman’s mind. She doesn’t limit herself to one genre and loves to write romance novels but don’t let that fool you. This girl can come up with some sick and warped ideas for a story.
I think both of these authors can and will make a mark on the world. I look forward to the release of the new book, 'Laugh, Cry, Die.'
Growing up I had a knight in shining armor who stood guard and watched over me. He was there in times when I needed him most to protect me from as much of the ugliness of the world as he could. When necessary he drew his mighty sword and raised his lance to fight anything he felt threatened me. When I was entering my teenage years no man ever stood taller, he was tall by the way, or was more handsome, or braver than he did to me. Over the years I’ve mention to him that he was my knight in shining armor but I don’t think he ever really knew just how deeply I felt that.
A lot of the battles he fought he didn’t even know I knew about. Mom told me of a few of them. This man wasn’t much older than me, only five years. He was my older brother the Gallant Knight Sir George. He was also the smartest person I knew and yes he was and still is smart. He had the soul of an artist and the heart of a lion. Again, he still does. This man served in the military and later served the community where he lived. He ultimately put on a badge and put his life in danger to protect others.
So why do I feel I need to bring this up now? Once again he donned the shining armor, lifted his sword, and raised his lance to try to protect me from something he knew would bring me a great deal of pain. Unfortunately he couldn’t yet he still did everything he could to cushion the pain he knew I would have to face.
I’m not a little girl anymore, I’m by far not even near a young woman but once again to feel that kind of love from my brother is one of the things that will get me through this. Between him, my husband, my daughter Gina I will find a way but right now I just need my brother to know how much I love, respect, and admire one of the greatest men that ever lived. I love you Sir George.
Those of you who follow my website, I know there are quite a few even if you are the most silent bunch ever, you have read what I’ve posted about my husband in the past. The one that seems to be the favorite is ‘That Man Is Going To Give Me A Heart Attack’.
There are so many stories I could pass on but the fallout could be problematic. No nothing illegal, at least none I know of away, but still. I still giggle over the water cooler calamity. My husband’s ability to fix almost anything came heavily into play on that one. The incident with the large tree branch still gives me the shivers. The vision of his head being smashed between the end of that branch he was removing from a tree swinging back and nearly squashing his head like a melon against the trunk of that tree is vivid in my mind to this day. You would be surprised at how quickly that man can move when he has to.
Now if you think for one minute he is only a danger to himself, think again. I’ve suffered my share of mishaps at his hands. At one point I began to wonder if he had a secret insurance policy he had taken out on me and was trying to collect it. Now when he is working on something I give the man a very wide berth. Don’t get me wrong, the man is not clumsy, it’s just that he pushes the envelope with some things and that can bring into account a learning curve. I can say I’ve never seen him make the same mistake twice. I however don’t seem to be that smart so it took me a little longer to learn not to be standing too close when he is doing something for the first time. I think the final one for me was us cutting down a Christmas tree the old fashion way, you know a two handed saw with someone on each end, and I ended up on the ground getting very personal with a fairly large cedar tree. Yep I think that was the last time.
I think the funniest one however involved a family excursion many years ago up by Reelfoot Lake. Buddy zigged when he should have zagged and we ended up on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere stuck in a mud hole. Among our merry little band of explorers that day beside Buddy and me were our three daughter ranging in age from about six to ten along with both our mothers, one in her late sixties and the other in her late seventies at the time. Oh yes it was a fun day for all.
Buddy and I had managed to get everyone out so we could try to get the van out of the mud hole when Buddy’s mother decides she is going to help push the damn thing and ropes my mother into adding her weight to the endeavor. Buddy and I both tried to talk them out of this but to no avail. We were both sure that one or both of them would end up having a heart attack out there in the middle of nowhere and we would somehow end up in jail for deliberately killing the old gals. Back then cell phones weren’t that common and even if we had one there wouldn’t have been any reception where we were. Yes people I know I’m old.
Now here is the surprising part. Those old ladies still had some push in those bones because they did help push that thing out of that mud hole, but damn. Now my mom and Buddy both had enough sense to take care where they took their stance when they went to push but Buddy’s mother didn’t. Yes I was the one behind the wheel. I stepped on the gas and just before those lovely wheels grabbed enough solid ground to back us out of there they gave a good hard spin and the next thing I know I’m watching mud sling up out from under the vehicle and make its way up the front of Buddy’s mother from her knees all the way up to the top of her head before the van jerked back dropping that old lady face first right square in the middle of the wettest, soggiest, thickest spot in the middle of that mud hole. I damn near gave myself a heart attack trying not to laugh because me and this old lady didn’t get along back then. The thought that went through my head way ‘yes there is a God in Heaven and he is great’ but I kept that to myself easily enough but that laugh was a bit harder to contain. If anyone had been sitting in that van with me I would have probably scared the crap out of them with all the snorts, gasp, and other crazy noises coming out of my mouth and nostrils as I tried to control myself.
Does Buddy still get into things? Yes but he is older and puts even more thought into things before he takes it on these day but I still give him a wide berth and pray a lot. However my life still isn’t dull and he still makes my heart stop sometimes when he walks into a room and not from a coronary attack of some type, so I’m good.
from left to right Buddy's mom, Gina, Susie, Jennifer ( a friend of our girls), my mom, and the back Buddy and Ginny.