To make a long story short

It's been a couple of weeks since I stepped in here, and things are no different today. There are one or two things different I suppose. I'm still writing and as for the word challenge in August; I'm not going to meet that goal of thirty-five thousand, just too many things going on in my work life and what not.

My niece has had her share of issues, her ex-boyfriend is causing problems. Together, they have two children and I feel bad for those boys. The oldest one is now four and the other day, I babysat him and another little girl. They were at the kitchen table drawing and coloring on paper. As I sat there watching them, I asked Nicholas what he was drawing and he told me a picture for his dad.

His mother has a "friend", nothing serious as of now, although I have my suspicions they are steering towards something of that nature. I think she should have relationships, but it will be rough on the kids. They have their "Am ma" and me, but all little ones want their mom when they get tired. To make a long story short, after a girlfriend of hers buried Jessie's vehicle up to both axles in someones front yard, momma finally said enough was enough. There is more to that story too, but I will not go there.

This past Saturday, I had my sister (Am ma) and my "adopted" daughter/friend were over drinking a couple of beers and shooting the breeze. My niece calls, wanting to leave the kids to go see the ex, supposedly he has diapers for his younger son. I made it known to her she is on a timer. Bring the kids over, I say, but you have 30 minutes, get over there, get the diapers and get back.

We had enough beer in us that we promised if she was not back within that time frame, we would be coming after her. She made it back in 35, of course, I called her at the twenty-nine minute mark and at thirty minutes. I pretty sure she thinks we are totally nuts, that being said, she is a good mom and loves her kids.

This situation with her children and the ex has sparked the project I will do for National Novel Writer's Month in November. The working title is "A Day of Reckoning", in the Thriller genre.

Here is the blurb: After Karrie Jensen is murdered by her ex-boyfriend, Carla Simpson is left to care for the two children. When Carla's sister, Abby is found dead and the grandchildren are kidnapped from school by their father, Carla's worst fear is reality when she finds out he has taken them to Mexico. Now Carla has to find the boys and somehow make Juan Pedreza pay for what he has done.

That is the basic idea of the story.

My being the victim of spousal abuse gives me an advantage. Any writer knows that if they read on the subject of writing, it is preached to write what you know. I know in the past twenty years, great strides have been made to help victims of abuse and to keep it from becoming a tragedy.

I pray that nothing comes from this situation. The boyfriend has shown aggressiveness by pushing and shoving, making remarks she is not to have communications with family members and friends. He has stopped making payments (his half) on the vehicle she uses, cut off the television subscription, good thing she has movies to keep the kids entertained and takes them to the park. The man stalks her, follows her around. I told her all it will take is a phone call and INS will take care of him, yes, he's an illegal alien, and so is most of his family. She wants him to be able to have interaction with his kids. Fine, great, and so he should. So far, he's not going about this in the right way. Momma has made it clear he is not welcome, yeah, that's another story and will probably be in the book.

It gives me a passion that I think will be felt in the book and it is exciting to have this passion flowing. I'm glad that I don't believe in things being said and things happening from that. Like to movie "Stranger Than Fiction" with Will Farrell.

As for the job. I'm coming to a point in my life I want to do other things, the main one of course is to become a published writer and do that professionally. In high school, I wanted to be a teacher and when I went to our local school back in June with my friend and her daughter, it came back, those wants of becoming a teacher. To make a long story short, it's a no-go. Tuition rates are too high, I make too much money for grants and student loans? Uh,no. I don't really want to go through four years taking classes I don't need for gaining a teaching certificate. So, this is something I should have pursued way back when. I could try to get a Bachelor's of Arts, there again, taking classes I don't want to take just to get that degree. Online? Most of them want you to come to the campus for orientation, sooo, it's not going to happen. I want to be able to have more time to write, I get depressed when I don't, it's addicting, even a thirty minute span isn't enough.

Working in the water treatment department is causing some health issues. I hurt all the time. Stretching and pills help some but not enough. I would like to find another job which will allow me to sit down and not worry about something going wrong. I don't want to deal with weather issues, power outages, and equipment failure. I make good money, but honestly, I would rather be happy and less stressed out for less dollars an hour.

But for now, I'll have to put up with my feet screaming in agony and the rest of my joints throbbing that constant dull ache. My ideal setting would be to own my own bookstore where folks could come in and get a cup of coffee, for there would be many flavors and blends to choose from, nice cushy chairs and privacy cubicles for reading. On Tuesday nights have a book club and writer's club on Saturday mornings. During the summer, kids could come in such as a reading group. I'd even do commission of second hand books.

I'll just keep on dreaming that one, I do not see anything of that sort falling into my lap and funding is out of the question. I'm finding that to search for loans, grants and funding also cost money, what little extra we have goes to vet bills, saving for work to be done on the home, the list goes on.

It's funny though, here I am almost fifty, and still don't know what I truly want. Oh, there are things I would like to have, such as the dream store mentioned, a bestselling author would be nice, but for many, that is one dream that reaches few.

To make a long story short, I'll stay where I'm at for now, but keep looking for what I want. I most definitely will continue to write, that is a given

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how I feel some days

Online writer's conference and updates

Hello to allayaz!

The last time I posted here, I was preparing for a fifty-thousand word challenge (JulNoWriMo) similiar to the one I participated in November. I didn't meet the goal, too many things were going on and too many distractions, and August is turning out to be no different!
I'm in the fifth day of a new word count challenge, (AugNoWriMo) but so far, I only have about 1,450; not too good but, that's okay. The good news is the goal this time is for 35k, and I can continue on Savant. I want to have the first draft of it done before November, cause in that month, It's 50k all the way! It's the mother of all word count challenges, the National Novel Writer's Month or as I will refer to as NaNo. I'll post more about it as the time gets closer. (I know, everybody's groaning. Kiss my ass. *snicker*).

My writing totem shown here hasn't been much help, maybe he just feels sorry for me.

For those of you who do write or are intrested in learning how to write: in October there will be a free, online writer's conference. You can go to this website and check it out. http://www.themuseonlinewritersconference.com/

Last year was the first year for this type of conference and it's one of the coolest things I have ever done. I didn't have to go nowhere, spend lots of money on gas, lodging and getting lost. I didn't have to put on makeup or even take a shower, nor did I have to go out and buy new clothes, ('cause I would of, everything I own either has holes, bleach spots, stains and what have you because of my job). I could take my time, check out the different forums and chat rooms where authors, editors, agents and other writing professionals let you ask questions. In the forums there are different workshops and writing challenges.
It was because of this conference that the internet became a valuable source for an aspiring writer such as myself as well as for writers of all genres and styles. I had no idea there was so much information! I found a writer's group where I can post material without worrying about publication rights and such, several sites about writing, writing contests, writing online magazines, newsletters, and yahoo groups. A person could get caught up so easy in all of those wonderful tools they may not get that writing project off the ground!
It's hard to not check out those places from a writer's point of view, many of them have great information! I'm always learning something or refreshing my brain with tips, not a thing wrong with that!
I love to write, it's a passion I've had on the back burner for a long, long, long, time, and only in the past year and a half have I become seriously serious! This time, no matter how many rejection letters I get, I will keep on keepin' on. that's what you are supposed to do if you have passion and want to succeed. I love the research and character building, plotting the plot and outlinning the outlines. I love the whole ordeal about writing except finding the right agent, a process I've only checked into briefly. I problably won't get too serious about that part until I've finished the novel and put it through the second draft. The search can take a long time too, so I have to make sure I have those who would find an interest in even reading any of my material. By the time I have submitted the necessary requirements to each of my prospective agent picks, I'll have gone through the third revision probably. I may just let it rest and do a wait and see.

Sometimes prospective markets will have suggestions to make your project better and it's good to revise using their suggestions, you send it back, he/she may bite then. I have two other projects in the wings, Dream Drifter, a paranormal/thriller, and last year's NaNo project, as well as the one I will start in November, The Belle of Mobile, a supernatural/suspense kind of story.
It's also a good thing I learned, to have several things going, It can become tiring reading,and rereading the same words over and over. It can get bogged down in research material, or one of the characters may be going in a different direction (it happens). Put that aside for a few days and write a short story, take a month, more if necessary, and work on a larger project such as a novel or screenplay.
Writing is not simply sitting down and thinking it will just fall into your lap. Maybe of a select few, but that's so very, very rare. It's tedious work. It takes a long time, especially if your are just getting into it. Now if you want to write short stories, which I like to do too, it's not as complicated as far as information gathering. Poems, that's a whole different game I won't get into. Just like in music, dance, painting, etc. or anything in life, if you want it, get the passion and desire and keep it in your heart and head. Work, work, work, practice, practice, practice! Payoffs might not be so great, but that's not what should matter. Granted, when they get big enough to count I would like it very much, any fool would. Right now, finishing Savant and getting it to market is my focus.
I'm curious to see how many of you read this blog. How many of you will read the excerps I post? Keep in mind they are only tidbits. I'll give it until the end of the month. You read them, then let me know what you think coming from a reader's perspective. I'd appreciate the input!
Here is the prologue:

It started with one knife gliding through the air. Its blade silent, glinting and cruel. Cold, sharp winks increase in intensity as more knives join. Red tendrils of mist begin to weave through the knife ballet, circling a faceless man standing in the middle.
Max sat up gasping for air, gathering the sheet under his chin. His long hair matted in corkscrews, eyes wide, searching the batwing shadows clinging in the corners of the ceiling. Sweat popped out on his forehead. "Joe" was in his head again. Max struggled against the tangled bedspread. Fear tore at the edges of his subconscious, trying to pull him back into the dream. He dug out from the bed sheets and found his robe and slippers. He stared into the empty street from his darkened bedroom window, gazing at the shimmering lights of Bainbridge Island across Lake Washington. Sometimes watching the planes take off and land at Seattle-Tacoma airport helped loosen the constrictive feeling seizing his heart, threatening to squeeze every drop of blood until there was no more. The Mickey Mouse night light stared at him. Of course, Mickey wasn't scared; Mickey didn't have bad dreams about Bad Things.
He stopped in front of the empty canvas, his chest heaving, tears rolled down his puffy cheeks. Slowly Max sat down. His pupils began to dilate, his breathing slowed and the tears dried. He picked up a wax crayon, his favorite drawing medium, and began; his face set and determined as the crayons skated across the canvas, smooth and silent as the knives in his nightmare.