Even though it's March....

I am beyond behind here!

Days have came and went. Christmas, New Year's, an ice storm and knee surgery. I've not visited "A Writer's Wish/Stuff From the Attic" in a long time, so I have a lot of ground to cover!

Christmas came and went, I had to work, but all in all, I tried not to let commercialism hamper the spirits. Let's face it, as long as there is advertising, we might as well figure Christmas will be thrown at us in September. Just remember the reason for the season. The new year came and went in the same fashion, I was at work.

At the end of January, residents in Northwest Arkansas and southern Missouri were slammed with ice and lots of it. At first, it seemed we could get by without too much, but as the day wore into the afternoon, it became apparent we were in trouble. When the power went out, we figured it was short term. When we called in the outage, a recording informed us it would be hours, then it became days.

Limbs snapped like gunshots in war, ice continued to fall. Everywhere around us the sounds of transformers blowing out and trees cracking under the weight of ice had us running to our windows each time. We thought it was unfair we were the only ones on our block not to have electricity. Our neighbors across and up and down the street had power. It was as though they all had every light on in their houses including the porch lights, rubbing it in our noses. A couple of the neighbor kids laughed at our misfortune, that is until a major power line snapped and not only blackened out the entire town, but other small towns up and down the grid. Who was the ones laughing now? As much as I wanted to, I couldn't because those neighbors had huge limbs falling on their house and vehicles.

Going to work was a strange experience. Yes, I had to work. The main plant didn't work, but someone has to be at the treatment plant 24/7/365, it doesn't matter if anyone works or not. I wasn't too excited about sitting in the dark either. Thank God I work day shift! It was dark when I went in at 6:45 in the morning and dark by 5:00pm. Armed with only a flashlight, I tried not to let my imagination get the best of me. Here I was inside that huge dark, quiet building, the only sounds were occasional drips of water and several unidentified thumps coming from dark corners where even a flashlight couldn't penetrate.

And cold! Even with several layers of clothing, insulated coveralls and a heavy coat, those icy fingers found their way in. Fortunately, the weather warmed, melting inches of ice. That was kind of cool, watching huge icicles fall from power lines and crash to the ground. I had to wear a hard-hat, the icicles were large enough to cause damage to a person's skull if one were to fall just right.

By the fifth day, I became tired of no electricity. Heating water for washing and coffee got to be a pain in the ass. I like to camp out, but I was ready for a hot shower. It never fails to humble me when the little things aren't there in my daily comforts.

The surrounding area looks like a tornado came through minus scattered debris. Now that Spring is here, it doesn't look so bad, as life comes forth, flowers, grass, and buds on trees. The twenty-year old willow tree in my back yard is the only major casualty we suffered from the '09 Ice Storm. Against my wanting to keep all of my lovely trees, we had most of them topped or brought down a couple of years ago, good thing too. I fear the results would have been disastrous. What I find unusual is the willow did not give up the ghost. The branches we still need to remove have sprouted new growth.

January spilled into February, on Ground Hog Day I went to see my family doctor. I've had problems with this nearly five years now and it was just getting worse. There were days I barely walked up to the parking lot because in addition to my sore feet, my knee swelled up.

Anyway, I had x-rays taken of the knee and an appointment with an Orthopedic specialist.

So far, I learn from my family doctor I have arthritis. This doesn't surprise me all that much. I have it in my hands, I have family members who have it. The specialist takes more x-rays and says I need an MRI. I never had one of those, but I am concerned. I've seen those commercials on TV about a dye which is injected, will I have this? Thankfully, no, I just had to lay still. I did okay until I could feel my leg wanting to move, but just as that feeling was becoming unbearable, the technician came in and it was over.

My next appointment with the specialist reveals I have a cyst and fluid build up, it reveals more arthritic issues too. An appointment is scheduled for surgery. He says it's a simple operation, remove a bone spur, the cyst, and drain the fluid. I'll feel good as new. Great. Let's get it over with so I can get back to life.

I get the operation done. The doctor tells my husband I have the knee of a seventy-six year old woman. The operation went well, it just took a little longer than expected. I had a huge chunk of cartilage hanging, they took that, shaved a bunch of the cartilage down, I had torn ligaments too. I am blaming that on a stupid stunt I did nearly thrity years ago, and time finally caught up with it. He also tells my husband chances are probable I will need knee replacement surgery in the next couple of years. Great. The only thing good was Vicodin (just kidding). It did help me sleep well. And fast acting! It took less than twenty minutes for me to start nodding out. I have one left and no refills, where's House when you need him? (Again, just kidding)

I am concerned about going back to work in water treatment. There are many obstacles, the floors are slick sometimes, I have to lift heavy bags and many hours of walking, stair climbing and standing. There are days where I have experienced no time for sitting down until the shift was almost over, or maybe for ten minutes, long enough to shove a little food in my head and then off I go. I have many things to think about concerning my job and have decided I need to get out of it. I do not see myself working there too much longer and fear it could have some serious repercussions later on, healthwise, that is. I am working on several things, but it will be sometime before those come to pass. I am excited about these prospects so hopefully something will come out of it.

And so, March is on it's way out, April first is next week. Both mine and my husband's birthday's are coming up. He turns fifty, I, forty-nine. I'll reflect on that later. Happy Spring!

Another notch in the belt

As you can see, I once again have "won" the challenge! A Day of Reckoning will continue to get worked on but, it's time to work on another project. Savant is in the process of heading to the finish line and hopefully, in the next couple of months I will have the first draft finished! Next will come the arduous task of editing. I think I will enjoy this part because it's fine tuning and digging deeper into research. I want it to be as close to the truth without it being non-fiction.

Because this is my rambling log, I thought I'd toss this photo in for laughs. My friend had a cat that did not care for sharing its food with others and judging from this little guy's face, he doesn't either. It's hard to make out the caption, but it says, "my baloney has a first name, it's momnommmm. something to that effect.

Christmas is coming soon, and Thanksgiving? I was at work, which I am thankful for, many are losing their jobs, their homes, their livelihood. My boss was supposed to bring me dinner, just like last year, but poor me, I suffered and ate a baloney sandwich. I take that back. I had burritos. I took my laptop with me, but I worried too much of overloading circuits or blowing my computer's innards. I don't think I'll take it with me again. I don't have Internet access and working on a project on the job that actually pays, well it probably isn't the right thing to do. I'll just stick to pen and paper, doing crosswords, or sleeping. Don't worry boss I don't do any of that!

Another year is nearly gone and what have I done? Grew a little older, got a little fatter, and heading closer to menopause. I'm not sure if I gained wisdom of any sorts, maybe next year, I'll know.

Five down and counting...

It's getting to the wire, five days left and my world becomes a little crazier for the next month!

Fiftythousand words, thirty days. Look out NaNo, here I come!

I have a new blogsite called Writer Potpourri. It is strickly about writing and the craft, books I read, my opinion of them will also be posted there. I plan to have other writers come and talk about their projects, and I will post comments about websites I find. This is exciting for me, because as I get deeper into writing, the better my chances are of getting my material published. It also helps me to hone my writing skills, and keep intuned to the writing world.

However, I am seriously considering self publishing my novel "Savant", in the hopes it will catch a publisher's (or agent) eye. These days it gets harder to become published and noticed. There are many writers who want the brass ring, and competition is tough. Publlishing houses don't take risks on new writers, and I could spend years looking for someone to have enough faith in me, and my material. With our nation's economy on the downslide, it's understandable they (the publidhing houses) would do a little eggshell walking. More and more writers are turning to self-publication for the same reason I do. That doesn't mean I quit sending queries, that's part of the process. I would probably spend nearly every waking hour writing if I could, but the butt would get really numb, the house would get dirtier than it already is, and the animals would starve, so it's just as well I don't.

The Muse Online Writer's Conference

First and foremost, I want to thank Lea Schizas, for this years writer's conference. Last year. I barely came in under the wire to register. That was my mistake on the email address. I gained a lot if information about websites and met some really cool folks. It ended up propelling me into writer's cyberspace! This is my second conference to attend and it was the most intense week of learning I've ever been a part of.

Because of Lea's selfless acts, many aspiring writers, (and established/published authors) gain thousands of dollars of valuable information from the week long conference. All of this great stuff for free. There is a place for donations, it cost quite a bit for maintenance and the web master fees, etc. So, as of November 1, 2008 you can register for next year's conference by clicking on to this link http://themuseonlinewritersconference.com/ and sign up! Believe me, it's worth it. You do get to meet publishers and published authors. As a matter of fact, I'm talking to a nice lady about a coffee table book. It was totally unexpected and could be what I need to get credits for publication. I am into photography and I'm thinking about submitting some photos and accompanying them with short poems. From the conference, I have the makings of a "cozy" mystery, a step below mystery which is a bit darker than the cozy. I didn't know that, but now I do. I think it will be a lot of fun and giving serious thought to making it my NaNo project. I also came away with a series of short stories gathered into a collection called a series novel. I took two short stories that were laying around in their files and wove them together for a novel.

Last night, was the end of the conference, and the after party! That was the funniest thing! Someone mentioned that it was a crash course in speed reading. That was no joke. Words flew by (those of you who go to chat rooms may have an idea of how that works) so quick that if a comment was made you better have fast fingers and a quick pinkie for hitting the return key because your comment may not mean anything within two minutes. The chat rooms also come with a variety of sounds and smiley icons, there were plenty of those flying around too. I am not a chat room sort of person and last year's conference was my first experience in "chatting".

To attend a conference in person cost hundreds of dollars. The registration fees. Booking a flight, hotel room cost, food and transportation. The upside of this, is meeting authors and guest speakers in person, maybe an agent or publisher. Going to a different place and seeing a city you have never visited, meeting people you may have been talking to on the Internet in one of your groups are some of the other perks. The downside is, of course the cost. Many of us simply do not have that kind of cash sitting around the house to spend. There are several of my new friends who are disabled and the online conference lets them mix and mingle with everyone too.

We writers tend to think we know it all. We think our work is beautiful, everyone will love it. There will be hundreds of publishers and agents knocking down the door just to have you on board. The reality of it is, (unless you are extremely gifted or a famous author in a former life and kept all you knew,) getting published is hard. I think possibly harder now than in the good ol' days, simply because of the competition. Publishing houses anymore do not hand out huge advances unless you have a big name. You have to be careful too. Unfortunately as with any good thing there has to be a bad side. If you are looking for an agent or a critique group go to http://www.predatorsandeditors.com/ and check them out. This is a valuable resource for every writer. They go through the markets and do a thorough check to find out who's legit. They post their findings and pass them on to you. The Internet has become a valuable tool for authors. (I wish my dad could of seen all of the resources available for today's writer.)

On that thought, it is very easy to get caught up in all of those wonderful websites, blogs, social networking, and newsletters. I suggest going through and picking out which ones will help you out. Ask some of your writing friends if they know about such and such site or google it. There again, check out predators and editors. Throughout the next couple of weeks, I'll be adding links to various websites and giving you my impression of them. I hope you check them out.

If you haven't read any of my past postings, I would like to introduce you to Roger, my writing totem. Roger was my dad's name and I know he's hanging out so I put him in the moose. They are my muses.

My Pets Rule!

Those of you who have cats or have had one know what I mean when I say I am ruled by them.
I have two, Troy, aka "T" (named after Tesla's drummer), and Love Bug, aka, "Buggy" (named after no one, she had unusally huge eyes when she was little). Their personalities are complete opposites.
"Buggy" is loveable, docile, and sleeps by my side, or inside the crook of my legs at night. When she was little, she had this thing of trying to lay across my neck, which I had to break her from since I do not care for asphyixiation.
She loves milk and curling up in my lap when I read. She's not too picky when it comes to food, she will pretty much eat whatever I give her. She does not have a tail, it's a little stub, I suppose she was born with it. She's muscular and stout, but a real puss when it comes to storms, kinda like me, except I don't hide in a spidery hole *shudder*. She is skiddish around other humans, why, I don't know. She hears a voice that is neither me or my husband's, into the hole, under the house, or up the stairs she goes.
Her claws are sharp and do not feel very good when they dig into my flesh. It's not because she's attacking me, she's doing what I call "kneading bread". She has a funny way of standing, especially if she is looking outside or has just stepped out there. Her little legs are spread apart, ready to either bolt under the house or stalk an unsuspecting bird. There have been times when she has sat on my chest or hip while I slept, wanting to go outside. I ignore her until the meowing is unbearble. I had a video clip on my profile once about a cat who did just that, execpt Buggy does not use a baseball bat to wake me up. She cracks me up when she all of a sudden pops up or steps from around a corner, her tail stub twitching, and the legs spread apart. She has a funny way of letting you know when she has to use the bathroom. She runs up and down the stairs, into the bathroom, then outside. This process is repeated several times until the smell hits your nose and hopefully she made it to the litter box or outside. Usually, it's in the bathroom, unless the door is shut.
All in all, she's an ideal pet. She's into her fourteenth year of life, but she still has a lot of vitality although sometimes her hips seem to give way when she runs across the kitchen floor. I like to think it's because the floor is slick.
T, well, he's a brat. No other way to describe him. I found him in the street, crying his little lungs out until I finally coaxed him into the yard. My husband was inside repeating the word "no". Poor little baby kitty, I tell him, he's gonna get ran over.
At the time I had another cat, "Scooter" ( she died of some kind of fungal infection in her bones at the ripe old age of eleven). Both Scooter and Buggy were not happy with the new addition. That tiny orange and white baby got wacked anytime he approched either one of the girls (cats). For a few weeks, I thought Buggy would kill him.
Then he got comfortable with his surroundings. Soon the ambushes began; hiding behind the couch, under the table, or under the bed. A slight movement of a foot under the cover rendered a hefty pounce, claws dug into the bottom of the foot and teeth/fangs sunk into a toe. Scooter and Buggy were under constant attack, Scooter didn't back down, Buggy? She has mastered the art of slipping from sight and claw. Don't think for a minute she lets him get away with it though. He supports several scars on his pink nose.
T hadn't been in the family long until one morning he didn't come home. I was sick, he was so little, so vunerable. I'm worried, I tell my husband. I begin to call his name then I hear a meow far away, I move in the direction of the sound. Then I see him. Relief! I see he's not walking so well. I try to pick him up and he lets out the most horrible cry and hissing. We get him to the vet where we learn he has a broken hip, most likely from a car or possibly a kick from a human. It was going to cost some money to fix him. I just couldn't let the little guy suffer and I did not want him put down. I let my husband make the call.
A week later, T was brought home with a tiny hip replacement. We never did figure out what happened, but he keeps away from cars.
T has totally dominated the household. Sometimes, Alan, my husband, eats sunflower seeds when he watches television. We have discovered T likes them as well. He will climb up on Alan's chest and wait while Alan cracks open a seed. It's only two or three of the nuts but that's all, he jumps off his chest and pursues other interests like terroizing Buggy if she's around.
He loves peanutbutter, not a whole lot, just a little on the tip of my finger is enough to satisfy him. I have discovered he cannot tolerate milk, no matter the type, he pukes it right back up. Grasshoppers, the little green ones are a favorite, he like to bring them in and play with them until he grows tired then eats them. Now, the big green and yellow ones, they get thrown up, ugh, nasty.
He's a hunter, both cats are. T is more so than Buggy. Of course, they have to bring their trophies inside the house. Birds, mice, a rat or two, snakes, Cicadias, even a squirrel(it was dead, but behind the couch) have been lose in the home. I know I enjoy coming downstairs in the mornings and seeing feathers everywhere. We have even been graced with a bat's presence, thanks to T.
He rarely drinks out of a bowl, he prefers drinking from a faucet. I think he learned this from Scooter. People? Not a problem, even the neighbor keeps his garage open so T can go in to maintain the mouse population, which I appreciate because that usually means he has brought them home for us. Thanks man.
If we do not have one of our doors cracked open, just like Buggy, he's telling us he wants outside, usually by stepping across our heads, if that doesn't work, he's trying to take the curtian off the window. Sometimes it may not mean he wants out, it could mean he's thirsty, or he wants food, or simply nothing at all. Little shit. We try to accomodate by cracking the back door so my darlings are able to come and go as they please, but then this invites strays too. In the winter this is a real problem. The doors are closed, it's cold outside, and when he wants in, he pulls the screen door back with his paw then lets it go, BAM! I do not get a full eight hours sleep. I'm not complaining, that's just the way it goes.
He has a urinary tract issue, so we have to give him wet cat food in order for him to maintain a normal pH. When that refrigerator opens, he's right there, and he know where that food is at. If I haven't taken the can out, he shows his displeasure in several ways. Attack a foot, attack Buggy, or attack the little rug I have in the kitchen. Most of the time it's all three. I was hoping he would get over the tantrums as he grows older, but alas, no. He is getting a little more docile the older he gets, but there are those moments....
I have to keep a pillow on my desk so he can curl up next to me, otherwise he's trying to lay on top of the laptop which does not work well when I am using it. I don't know if I could have another cat when these two are gone, as much as I love them, when I lose a pet, it's like losing a child. It breaks my heart and several days are spent in mourning. I tend to be more of a cat lover than of dogs although we have two of them.

I suppose it's because I have never got over being attacked by a German Shepard when I was younger. Yet they rule us too. I just wish they would mow their own yards.

MySpace and other stuff

MySpace



Hello there! I have tried something new. I don't know if it is going to work, but instead of having to cut, copy or paste from the myspace page when I post a blog (sometimes I do that) here. I would appreciate it if I got a little feedback on this. Would you rather I set up the link, or view the post from here? I suppose, I should make sure this works huh?



I tested the link, it works. I know there are those of you who do not like myspace. If you want to check it out, you will have to sign up. So I have decided to do an edited version. Anything to get someone to read my blog!





Pouring rain, outside my window, all in all I know, it's gettin' better everyday. Soon the sun will shine through my window....
I don't know if that's word for word in Telsa's song Gettin' Better or not, but that's how I feel it best describes the way things are going weather wise. Right now however, I'm hoping we don't have a power outage, the lights keep flickering. I am not a fan of storms.








Anyone who knows me personally, know I have a love/hate relationship with weather. Read, A Wild Ride in my past blog postings. I love the weather channel. It's informative and knowlege is power so "they" say. I agree. I love watching the clouds build, huge "thunderheads", billowing thousands of feet into the atmosphere, the sun setting on them, all that poetic stuff.




I think it's cool to watch them at night, when they are far away from me and have no intentions of coming in my direction. I do not, do not, enjoy being in the midst of one. Especially at work. It sucks.
But that's not what I intend to write about this morning.
Back to the song, Gettin' Better. It also is how I try to handle my life and the situation/issues thrown at it. For over twenty years, I've used this philosophy to guide me through a lot of bad times. And I just wanted to thank the writer(s). Without the gift of words and emotions, there would be no music, art, poetry or books. Thanks Tesla for allowing me the pleasure to keep this song in my pocket.
*sniff*, yeah, I mean it, no mushiness here.
My husband and I are working on a solution to a delimea.
You see, we have tickets to meet Tesla personally. Everytime I think about it, I get light headed. It's...it's a rush of adreneline, it's, OH MY GOD! If I were a teenager, I'd be screaming, jumping up and down, all that fun stuff. I'd probably have posters of Tesla up on my wall in my room. *looking around the study/office* Er, uh, well just one of a nut buster. Oh, and the one that came with the DVD.



Hell, I'm too friggin' old to be jumping up and down!
While I am doing all of those things in my head, I'm gonna be cool and be me.
Stupid.
No, I'm married to a musican, I've met some famous people before, Brad Gillis of Night Ranger and Mitch Ryder. Alan and I even got to hang out with them too, which was way cool.
But, this is Tesla! My favorite band in the whole wide world! Ozzy, by the way, is my favorite solo artist. these are the people who I want to meet, it's listed in my profile as such. To the problem....

At first, I arugued with myself, we could use the money spent for the VIPs, on things we need. Who couldn't?
This is going to probably be a once in a lifetime ordeal for us. It's one of Alan's favorite bands too. Long story short, we have the tickets, not in hand, but on reserve.
We have ran into a snag of financial means. I don't feel that I need to explain the root of the problem, but it could mean having to refund our VIP passes! We would still go to the concert, but, shit man! If we do, I will just absolutely cry. I will be so very blue. But, because I carry Gettin' Better in my heart, it will be okay if it comes to pass. Maybe the next time.


Onto writing, I did a restructuring of sorts on Savant, the novel I am working on. It's possible I may do to another one. I need to either make the main character, an FBI agent, a male or female. I want the MC to like cats, and to have a couple of them. I have two. I want my character to have a motorcycle. We own one and so I know what it feels like to be on one. It's an outlet of the MC. I had one of my crits say that with the mixed emotions and kitties he couldn't find the character believeable. He was right. I read it agin, but this time in the MCs point of view.
He is expierencing a death, trying to catch a serial killer, should a tough nosed investigator not have these feelings? He should, I think, maybe, hell, I don't know. Is it too cliche-ish? What if I made the MC a female? Steroetype? A woman trying to still make it in a "man's world", a cop, no less. Would belivablity of emotions and the struggle to land a top notch position on the FBI ladder make it a stronger plot if she was a female? Hummm....
The Muse Online Writer's Conference is getting close, less than a month away now. I have many things to read about, and yes, homework. It will sharpen my writing skills, and there ain't a thang wrong wid dat! That means, I'm outta here!

Savant Jacket Covers

This morning after spending a few hours outside burning brush and watching the sky. I had some ideas for a jacket cover.

In this blog, I am only posting the ones I really liked since it would take too long to put all of them here. You can view the rest on myspace, just click on the link and go to the photo albums.

I started having images of what the cover could look like and at the first little drop of rain, I was inside, got a shower, (discovered poison ivy on my elbow, yea for me!) ate lunch and then began creating. I'm pretty impressed with what I came up with. I only scrapped one drawing. Hummm...I wonder.....maybe I need grapic design software for christmas? I don't know, it's the first time I've really played around with the default paint software. It's very basic designing but I sure had fun with it. I thought about having someone do the cover, but I don't think that will be necessary.

I wonder if I haven't stumbled upon something I didn't know I could do? Huh. Here is another excerpt from Savant......

At the end of the excerpt are the covers. Leave a comment if you feel compelled to do so.

It started a year ago, when FBI Agent Gibbons died by the hands of what the media was now calling the Tic Tac Toe serial killer, while on an undercover assignment. His body was found in a trash bin behind a seedy bar in Nashville, Tennessee with the letter “x” carved into his back, and a blood smeared note nailed into the back of his head. His wallet and its contents intact, his watch still on his wrist. With robbery ruled out, motive speculations became clouded and fuzzy. No witnesses, or clues; nothing. It was like that with each case so far. Trent needed Tic Tac Toe to slip up, like someone surviving an attack, have close call victim or laccidentlly leave DNA. Something.
Trent desperately needed a solid lead. He guessed poor Ester Varner, the woman lying face down in her own blood, wouldn’t yield much information either. Maybe when he got a chance to talk to the first officer on the scene something might come to light. Trent’s doubts engulfed him like a dark shroud.
It bothered him that he did not pick up even a slight twinge from the killer, no vague images, or a mental nudge. He had no other explanation for it. He could go to any crime scene and touch the victim or an object nearby and get fuzzy mental pictures, distorted impressions or flashes of the incident. He prided himself on his ability to sniff out the bad guys with his keen sixth sense, a secret nobody knew about, not his family or his boss.
But, with this guy, not a damn thing. That bothered Trent more than anything else. He had to catch this monster and soon.
He stared out into the small knit cluster of onlookers. It amazed him how macabre curiosity could be as he watched emergency lights play across women in curlers and robes hugged tight across their bodies. Their eyes full of concern and questions on their lips. Some of the men gathered in small groups, hands in their pockets, nodding their heads every now and then toward their dead neighbor’s home. Reporters strained against the yellow crime scene tape wanting answers. No matter the incident, the lookie-loos were there, speculating on what happened. The people next door thought she was in Florida, not on the floor of her living room starting to rot.

From Savant copyright March 2007
Connie Clark