Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Monday, January 9, 2012

An Epiphany Shared for #WriteMotivation


I learned a long time ago to surround myself with positive people. If you are negative, full of anger, mean or just downright pessimistic, I don’t need you in my life!
My epiphany happened between April and July of 1999. During that time, my husband was deployed to Albania. It was definitely not his first deployment. But it sure was his first deployment to a near combat zone. And it was a deployment while we were stationed on foreign soil, away from my comfortable surroundings of America and my family. I couldn’t just pick up the phone and call my mom & dad. Cost of international calls at that time were very high. I couldn’t even email them. They didn’t have a computer. My only support came from the wives of the soldiers deployed with him.
We were on a very tiny installation. It only housed one unit, and the whole unit deployed. They were an MLRS unit, called GRIDSMASHERS. They had track vehicles and could level anything with their rockets in an entire “grid square” (1,000 square meters). My husband, well, he was a wheeled mechanic. He was an outcast in this group. But, they needed a wrecker operator to pull broken track vehicles, and he was it. When their unit deployed to Albania, the whole installation went. Very few stayed behind for the Read Detachment. But, all the wives of the deployed had a support group. Or so they liked to tell themselves.
The FRG (Family Readiness Group), as it was called, was nothing more than a clique. Most wore their husband’s rank, especially the officer’s wives. Granted, they usually got more information about the deployment than the enlisted families did, and it was their responsibility to disseminate that information to all the families involved. But when the meeting morphs from information dissemination to hens cackling in their little groups, it just really isn’t anything more than high school all over again. I didn’t need it. I surely didn’t have the time for it. In high school, then, or now.
My husband and I hung out with a couple of other families before the deployment. When the guys deployed, one went home, one worked as much as I did, and the other, well, I hung out with her every so often until I realized that she never had anything positive to say. It was always “My husband’s a generator mechanic. They don’t need him.” “This deployment is stupid.” “I hate the Army.” Eventually, all I heard was “blah blah blah.” She was bringing me down with her. I was always depressed. I never had a smile on my face. And I cried…a lot!.
Luckily, it wasn’t long into the deployment when I decided to cut myself off from her and focus my attention on the few of the girlfriends who really needed my help through the deployment. My husband was a platoon leader and in charge of several single soldiers who had girl friends. They were locals, not US citizens, but they still cared about their men (at least for that moment). However, the FRG refused to keep them informed since they were not legally married. I took it upon myself to keep the ladies informed. I brought them to the meetings and kept in contact as best I could with them. I became their rock when they worried. I became their shoulder to cry on. I became their rationalization when their fears took over. It eventually dwindled down to one lady who really clicked with me. And we became fast friends. And she was the only one who married her boyfriend when the guys returned.
It was great to be surrounded by positive energy, rather than that constant negativity I got from my previous friend. Before, I found myself scowling, fearing, crying, angry all the time. That was so much easier to do it seemed. But when I cut myself off from her, and became the pillar of positive to the girlfriends who needed it, it was so much harder to put on a smile every day. Despite my own fears and resignations on this deployment, I had to remain strong for them. If I faltered, who would take care of them? So, I put on a smile every day, and didn’t let it bother me. That was the hardest thing to do.
There was a time, a month before he returned home, when I found out the whole unit was coming home at the end of June…except a chosen few. Those few would be the first to enter Kosovo. And my husband was so lucky. I found out on a Friday, after work, at an FRG meeting. After my friend left that night, I couldn’t sleep. I did not leave my house all weekend. I did not answer my phone. I pretty much locked myself in the bathroom and cried. My fears all came rushing back, 100 times stronger. He was a mechanic. He had no formal security patrol training. There were land mines to watch out for. There were still battles going on in Kosovo. And I couldn’t talk to anyone. I was the one who was supposed to be strong for everyone else. I was the one who never crumbled. But I did.
No one was there to be my pillar.
It took me all weekend to get it all out of my system. I vowed from that point on to be positive, think positive, and always keep a smile on my face–no matter what. The girls needed me. Other spouses needed to see positive, regardless if we were friends or not. And, it helped me through the day, taking one day at a time. His return home was uncertain, and I just counted it as one day closer to his homecoming.   Although that was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do, I feel I grew to be so much those four months.
I hope you’ve made it this far. Why did I tell you all this? A good back story is appropriate every now and again.
Writers have a tendency to be self-mutilating. We are always our own worst critic. At least the good ones. We get enough negativity in our writing life just by being around ourselves. Negativity breeds negativity. Misery loves company. And if we don’t get out of that funk, we are bound to listen one day and just give up. It’s really that easy.
Writers are introverted by nature. At least the Internet has opened our doors and we can mingle with other writers from time to time. We can see each other’s struggles, share in the joys and the sorrows, and the most important…know we are not alone. We all need encouragement, support, and positive energy to combat our own fears. We need people to help pick us up when we are down, encourage us when we want to give up, and help make us a better writer. This is why I believe in KT Hanna’s #WriteMotivation campaign so much. It’s hard to be positive. It’s easy to give up. But the support we get from this group really does help to keep the positive in our sights.
Here’s hoping that we can continue the #WriteMotivation campaign for all time to come. Spread the love. Pay it forward!
Love you KT!

Monday, January 2, 2012

Happy New Year and #WriteMotivation


First of all, Happy New Year. May this 2012 be everything you thought it would be, and more! May it bless you with kindness, love, and peace. I'm hoping for better!

I have had a rough time while on my vacation. I've had two weeks off and I've been sick the whole time. There has been no writing, no reading, no chores, no cooking. Nothing has been done. I'm missing a lot while I'm down. But I am getting better. Hopefully, I will have more energy tomorrow when I go back to work. And, I can't wait to have more energy to get back to my writing and reading. I've got some #WriteMotivation to give and receive! :D (Need to know what I'm talking about? Check out KT Hanna's post about it.)

For Christmas, we pretty much made out like bandits! :) We bought our son his own microscope. Not those janky kind made out of plastic, but a real microscope. It's the Celestron 44340 LCD Digital LDM Biological Microscope.  And we all can look at the cool microscopic images at the same time and take pictures to share with the world. He also got pre-made slides, a slide making kit, and a grow your own bacteria kit. Pretty cool, right? We think so, but we are geeks. :)

Source
In November, I won a 320Gig HDD for an xBox 360. Only problem was, it was for the new slims.  So, with the Gamestop Power Up Platinum card and a trade in for the new 4Gig Kinect, we got the family an unexpected Christmas present, along with the new "hot" Skylanders game. Now we are on a quest to find all the Skylanders! hehe

We also got ourselves a Sleep Number bed. Our current matress was 17 years old and we knew it was time when the side wires started poking out of the matress and the sagginess just hurt our backs so bad. It didn't take long for it to come in. We had it by the 23rd and it took a couple of days to get the sleep number just right, at least for me. Hubs is still trying to find his number. What works for him on his back is completely different from when he sleeps on his belly. So he's been waking up with a sore back every morning. But, he says it quickly goes away-unlike the old matress.

We knew we wanted to get one of these for a couple of years. When our son was still in his crib/daybed we purchased a 4" memory foam topper and quickly got rid of that. It was way too hot to sleep on! It did make a nice padding at the foot of our son's bed when we took off the side rails and he fell out occassionally :) so it didn't go to complete waste! When he outgrew his crib/daybed we bought him a sleep number bed. Heck, it was cheaper than a regular matress! So we have our new bed. :)

My dad loves gemstones and jewelry. I mean, he literally watches the gem channel like people watch the NFL network. :) But seriously, he does buy a lot of nice stuff for him, mom and me and my husband.

Check these out:
For my Birthday 2011, dad had this ring made. 2 light blue Tanzanites next to a pink something or another.
I tried wearing it, but it was just too tall. 
So my dad bought me this for Christmas 2011.
Did you know about BLUE diamonds? I'm in love now!
2 different color Tanzanite earrings
The studs were from Christmas 2010
The dangles are from Christmas 2011
African Opal studded earrings

For my hubs, he's always been interested in uncut, raw gems. So this is what he got:

Rough, uncut, champaign diamonds

Rough, uncut Opal

Rough, uncut Tanzanite
So, yeah, we made out, eh? :) 

Here's hoping we all have a blessed New Year, filled with good news. Unfortunately, my 2011 ended on a sad note: My December KazkaPress Challenge did not get picked. My streak has ended. Here's hoping for good news this month. :) 

Check out my friend's accepted stories on "Who the hell is Santa Claus?" 


Maybe I will post mine for you to read? I think it was just too traditional for Kazka Press. What say you? Free on my blog? Or should I find a new publishing home for it?

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Everyone needs a little #WriteMotivation

If you follow me on Twitter, you may occasionally see requests for some #writemotivation or me cheering on some other writer who needs a boost. We all have our downs sometimes. We get in a funk. We just don't want to do it anymore. Or we find ourselves second guessing our ability or determination or whatever.

Writing is a very solitary activity. We all know this. Granted, you may have your local critique groups, or write-in sessions at Panera Bread or Starbucks, but you can't call on them 24/7, because we all know we have these negative moments when we are alone, at home, by ourselves, at all hours of the day or night. Our real-life friends, our writing buddies, are not there for our every whim, to respond to our every beck and call, any time we need them.

However, with the dawn of the internet and social media, writers can connect with other writers whenever the need arises. My Twitter feed is always streaming. And, generally, when I call for help, someone will answer it. It may not be right away, but I can always count on a few good Tweeps to come through for me.

With that said, my friend, @KTHanna, decided to put together a blog and Twitter fest for the month of January. This is where we set achievable goals and cheer each other on throughout the month. We are to write a blog post every Monday to update our progress on those goals, and solicit some #writemotivation. Whenever and where ever we some encouragement, our participants will be there to cheer us on. I'm hoping this will continue on throughout the year, but we'll start small at first and see where it goes. If you want to join, please visit KT's site and sign up there. I'm sure you will find it well worth the efforts.

Here's my January goals:

1) By Jan, 20th I need to complete and submit the 713 Challenge entry @ KazkaPress
2) work a bit more on my novel. No particular goal really as I just need to write some more, and work out more of the plot. (How’s that for ambiguous?)
3) By the end of January I’d like to have completed the beta read for a certain someone.
4) complete the blog posts for this challenge. I suck at blogging :)

So, how’s that for goals. Realistic? Let’s hope so! :)

Monday, December 12, 2011

Your Teacher Said What?!: Defending Our Kids from the Liberal Assault on Capitalism -- Book Review

Your Teacher Said What?!: Defending Our Kids from the Liberal Assault on CapitalismYour Teacher Said What?!: Defending Our Kids from the Liberal Assault on Capitalism by Joe Kernen
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

As a parent with a child in the public school system, I found this a book a wonderful read. I've pretty much got a handle on the topics here but Joe Kernen breaks it down in a very easy to understand manner for any level. Blake's questions and ideas are very thought provoking and it really does show you just how a child's brain works. As adults, we are trapped within our own mind and seldom think on a lower level. We take for granted our knowledge and sometimes expect our children to understand without question. This book really does open your eyes as to how the school system is teaching our children.

If you are unfamiliar with the topics, this book explains it on a level anyone can understand. If you are familiar with the topics, it is a great recap of them. The book is not condescending, nor is it "just another text book". Joe makes it real by throwing in his own conversations with his daughter. Parents can certainly empathize when reading.

I highly recommend this read to anyone who is sending their children to school--pre-k to college, it matters not. These questions will eventually come up sometime in your conversations with your children. It's better to be prepared with the proper answers, not something you just guess at. Education is the key to success. It's never too late to learn. Arm yourself with knowledge and make the world a better place.



View all my reviews

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Skeleton Lake, by Angela Kulig -- Review

Skeleton Lake (Skeleton Lake, #1)Skeleton Lake by Angela Kulig
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

All the reviews I read made me want to read this book. I was so excited when I received my copy and couldn't wait to read it.

From the first chapter, I was completely lost. I had no clue what was being said. Maybe this was deliberate since Marlow was "drowning". So, I kept reading. The story began to work itself out over the next few chapters and I could see it more clearly.

The characters were not very deep. Even though the story was told through the eyes of Marlow, I just couldn't get into her, deep into her, to really feel any emotion towards her. Each character presented only provided more complication to the reader's ability to keep them straight. There was nothing discerning about the characters, nothing that made them want to be loved (or hated) by you. There were hints, don't get me wrong. But there was nothing that went deeper. I felt as I was reading this, it was just being "told" to me.

The story has a great premise, overall. Although the book is an easy read and the chapters are short, I just couldn't finish reading. I wanted to finish. I tried. But with the amount of grammatical errors, typos, cliches, and "telling, not showing", I just couldn't manage to finish. I got to Chapter 42. Maybe I will, one day, plow through the rest just so I know what happens.

Even though it's a self-pubbed book, with a little work and a couple more revisions it could have been a great read! I just feel it wasn't ready.

View all my reviews

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

My Second Published Story

Source: KazkaPress.Net


KazkaPress.Net selected my story for publication for a second month in a row! KazkaPress does offer some amazing prompts for their speculative flash fiction requests. I've enjoyed it immensely! And, have reveled in the fact I've been published...TWICE!

Drake's Hoard is now live!

Here's what KazkaPress wanted for the November Contest:

The November 2011 issue of National Geographic featured an article on the Staffordshire Gold Hoard. If you don’t know, this hoard of gold is an treasure trove of Anglo-Saxon…well, treasures…from 1,300 years ago. It was discovered in 2009 by a bloke with a metal detector. However, no one knows why it was buried in this ground 1,300 years ago. Here’s a tidbit from the article, which you really want to read all of: 
Much plunder was carried away—possibly down the old Roman road Watling Street, which leads past the site where the Staffordshire Hoard was found. Event and place are commemorated in the Welsh poem “Marwnad Cynddylan—The Death Song of Cynddylan”:
Grandeur in battle! Extensive spoils
Morial bore off from in front of Lichfield.
Fifteen hundred cattle from the front of battle;
four twenties of stallions and equal harness.
The chief bishop wretched in his four-cornered
house, the book-keeping monks did not protect.
A retinue of 80 horses and spoils from a “wretched” bishop (a detail that conjures the gold inscription and crosses): The poem offers a tempting explanation for the hoard, an explanation, alas, built from slender, circumstantial evidence that has happened to survive from an era from which most evidence was lost. We can conjure other teasing theories. Our unknown travelers may have chosen the burial spot because it was obscure—or because it was conspicuous. The burial might have had a marker for rediscovery, or it might have been intended as an offering hidden forever to all but their gods. The hoard may have been ransom, or booty, or a votive thanks. It may have been a collection of Anglo-Saxon heirlooms buried at a later time. [by Caroline Alexander in NatGeo] 

We at Kazka Press want to know: What’s the story of this treasure? Why was it buried? In 713 words exactly, excluding title, write a piece of flash fiction that tells the story of this treasure. And your story must have a speculative fiction backbone to it–fantasy, sci-fi, slipstream, cyberpunk, steampunk, etc. We’ll be especially pleased to see a strong, fantastical historical fiction element to this month’s entries. 
That’s the theme, the whole sum and total of it.
You can read the whole Staffordshire Gold Hoard story if you wish, and then my published speculative fictional piece about it. Let me know what you think. I hope you like it! If you do, please vote for it as well! The ones with the most votes get a chance to be published in their print anthology! Thanks!

Monday, November 28, 2011

Vacation Is Supposed To Be Relaxation, Right?

Vacation is supposed to be relaxation, right? Especially when you don't go anywhere. At least that's what I thought.

I took off of work from November 18th through the 27th. I really haven't had any time to relax except this past Friday, Saturday and Sunday. I am utterly exhausted coming back to work.

Friday, the 18th we were getting ready for our son's birthday party. His birthday is not until the 26th but we decided to have it before everyone went on their Thanksgiving vacation. I decided to have it a Jump!Zone rather than our house. I just could not handle other people's kids in my house. We've already had to deal with our son's friends in the house and they just don't seem to respect our stuff and/or their behavior is just atrocious. Besides, we spoke with other families who recently had birthday parties at their house. They thought they could save some money that way, but in actuality they spent about the same, if not more plus they had to do PRE and POST cleaning. No thank you! We'll let someone else do all that. :)


So, Saturday morning was our son's party. We were concerned no one would show up, despite the RSVPs. That's the way my parties went, as well as my husband's, when we were growing up. The closer to noon it got, the more our tummies roiled!

It all worked out in the end, and we had 20 kids show up. Some didn't RSVP. Everything worked out, except the fact I didn't have enough pizza. But at least everyone got one piece.

He made out like a bandit too! So the next couple of days were spent going from store to store to buy his birthday presents he got with the cash and gift cards. We didn't stop for two days until the money burnt completely through his pants pocket. :) We did make him take half and put it in his savings account though.


After all the birthday festivities were done and the presents bought, I needed to clean the house for Thanksgiving, which included moving my sewing machine back upstairs. I've been putting off making my curtains for two and a half years so I broke it all out in hopes to get it done before Thanksgiving. HUGE TASK! Anyway, I quickly found out that I did not have the room to cut my curtain fabric, but my local Jo-Anne's was AWESOME and let me "borrow" their cutting table. I had to go when their first opened and they let me use their table. How I WISH I had one of these in my house...and the room! LOL I got half my curtain's done: the biggest half! I only have the small window left.

I also have plans on making my own Christmas postcards this year and only slightly touched on that. Well, I had a couple of days, so I started sewing those up. They were going to be origami poinsettia's attached to the fabric postcard so sewing took less time than I thought. It's the folding that takes so much time. And then it will be back to sewing, to finish off the edges of the postcard. So, before Thanksgiving, I completed half what I intended to do on that sewing machine--which I am proud of, actually! :D


We did have one unexpected thing happen. Two days before Thanksgiving we had to rush my DH to the ER. With the type of medication he's on he's more susceptible to stroke and heart attacks and the pain medications he uses tend to mask a lot of pain. He was complaining of chest pain--deep within his chest. It wasn't radiating down his left arm or going into his jaw. But like I said, the pain medication he takes tends to dull and mask. We didn't want to risk it so we went to the ER. His heart checked out fine and his blood work came back fine as well. So, this is the biggest THANKS for this Thanksgiving.

We had my parents over, as we do every year now since we bought our house. On Christmas, we always go to my parents house, so this kind of gives my mom a break. I could have really used it this year! But, no bust. We made it through. Everyone was happy. And, I was able to rest a little before I had to go back to work.

The only thing I was sad about was that I didn't get a chance to do any writing. Although, I did manage to get some more "back story" and possible mapping out of my WIP with my husband! He was such a great help! I just need to record him when he starts talking! LOL

For those who are in the US, or American's living abroad, I do hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving. For those who do not celebrate, I hope you had a wonderful time while I was doing all this!

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Campaigner Challenge E-book Anthology Benefiting Help Harry Help Others


Interested in reading Flash Fiction? Here is a collection of 176 stories to peruse through. While everything may not fit your taste, there is bound to be something in this anthology that you will like. 

Based off Rachael Harrie's 3rd Writer's Platform Building Campaign, this is a collection of participant's flash fiction pieces for each of Rachael's three challenges. The reader will not only be supporting a good cause, but can determine if the writer met the challenges presented. 

All proceeds from the sale of this Anthology go to Help Harry Help Others. It's a wonderful charity started by one little boy. Diagnosed with brain cancer, Harry "single handedly raised over £85,000 (roughly $137,000) for brain cancer research by fundraising and selling hand-made bracelets." You can read more about this cause by visiting Help Harry's Website. I could not do it justice. 

Please consider purchasing this e-Book anthology. You can find purchase details here:

Amazon (US): http://www.amazon.com/Campaigner-Challenges-2011-ebook/dp/B0066UV28C
Amazon (UK): http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0066UV28C
Amazon (DE): http://www.amazon.de/dp/B0066UV28C
Amazon (France): http://www.amazon.fr/dp/B0066UV28C
Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/104468
Barnes & Nobel: [To be Announced]

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

October Flash Fiction Contest Winner & Publication with KazkaPress

Source: KazkaPress.Net
As many of you know, I recently signed my first publishing deal. If you didn't know, you may be interested to read about it here.

If you are interested in reading my piece, you can read it off KazkaPress.Net. Please understand, parts of this are real, and parts are not. We were to speculate the purpose of the numbers station, UVB-76. If you like military, spy, spooky, sci-fi, conspiracy theories, all rolled up into one,  I suggest you read this first, then read my story and what I speculated the purpose of UVB-76.

If you like it, I'd be most appreciative if you rated it. The more ratings I get, the more chance I have in this piece being selected into their 713 Anthology. Be sure to read the other stories they chose as well.

Thank you for your support and your votes! I hope you enjoy the short story.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

My First Publishing Deal

Source: KazkaPress.Net

Back in September, a fellow writer friend on Twitter (@mohio73) tweeted about a flash fiction contest from @Kazkapress. Since I've been doing several Flash Fiction pieces lately, and have found them incredibly fascinating, I looked forward to the 1st of October when Kazka Press would reveal their prompt and requirements for their Flash Fiction Contest. All I knew was it would be theme based, paid 1 cent a word, and they wanted EXACTLT 713 words. Pretty cool, huh? 

So I waited.

On October 1st, as promised, KazkaPress released their prompt. Total Sci-Fi! I could do this! 713 words, easy peasy. :) 

Their prompt was the following:


The October 2011 issue of Wired magazine featured an article on UVB-76, a (supposed) numbers station located in Russia. The article begins as such (and we encourage you read the entire, sublime article):

From a lonely rusted tower in a forest north of Moscow, a mysterious shortwave radio station transmitted day and night. For at least the decade leading up to 1992, it broadcast almost nothing but beeps; after that, it switched to buzzes, generally between 21 and 34 per minute, each lasting roughly a second—a nasally foghorn blaring through a crackly ether. The signal was said to emanate from the grounds of a voyenni gorodok (mini military city) near the village of Povarovo, and very rarely, perhaps once every few weeks, the monotony was broken by a male voice reciting brief sequences of numbers and words, often strings of Russian names: “Anna, Nikolai, Ivan, Tatyana, Roman.” But the balance of the airtime was filled by a steady, almost maddening, series of inexplicable tones. [Wired.com]
The Wired article was a very interesting read. If you like military, spy, spooky, sci-fi, conspiracy theories, all rolled up into one, I suggest you read this. Once I read the article I knew exactly what I wanted to do and how I wanted to present it. It is nothing you would think a "short story" would be like. Not at all. It would be military document presenting the "story". I wanted it as authentic as possible, and since I've been a part of the military all my life, living and working with, I have been exposed to the military style of writing for many years.

The problem came up with researching a specific document for this purpose. Google is an awesome tool, as are my contacts within the military. :) Researching the precise format for a military document was the easy part. Coming up with documents to back my theories was another matter altogether. Research, research, research and more research ensued over the first week or so after the prompt came out. I was beginning to think I wouldn't make it. But I kept at it. And managed most of my words over those days. And finally, it all fell into place--including my word count.

So, off it went to a few "readers" who helped me pick out the grammar errors, the military-ese errors, and the congruence issues (hey, I found an extra person in there that didn't belong! LOL) Edits, revisions, more edits and the whole while trying to keep to that 713 word requirement. It was fun and tedious all at the same time.

When it was finally done, I sent it off to KazkaPress. But that's when the doubt set in. Was my story REALLY a story? I mean it was a fictional Military document and I was beginning to wonder if it would even fit in to the "story" category. After reading some other pieces from others I've known to be submitting, self doubt and "I'm not good enough" set in. And when @kazkapress tweeted this tweet:


I was in total agony. I just KNEW I was going to get rejected, yet again! It wasn't a true story. It wasn't good enough. There are so many other people who are more talented than I was. And all the while these thoughts haunted me, my friend @KTHanna was telling me I was being silly, I was good enough, and it was a really good story, unique in its presentation as well. She had the confidence in me that I needed. She was my motivation, my support and my sanity!

Last night, I received an email from KazkaPress. My heart lept into my throat. The bile came with it. My stomach flipped and flopped and I really didn't want to read it. I was standing in Walmart after grocery shopping, waiting for my husband and son to come back with that last item we forgot.

I read it.
"Jamie Dement, Thank you for submitting to our October Flash Fiction contest."
Here it comes....
"We're delighted to inform you that your submission grabbed us by the throats and took us for a ride. A very entertaining ride. We'd be fools not to purchase and publish the work you submitted."
WHAT?!! Seriously?!! OMGOMGOMG!

 And I sat and waited for 10 minutes. 10 long. agonizing. minutes. for my husband and son to return so I could give them the news! It was all we talked about the whole way home. My son was so excited he was trying to figure out what book was going to be published. He really wants my Walter Bear published (a Picture Book I would love to publish one day). But that's going to take a bit of work. When I told him it was a short story, he then I he asked about Soul Stone. Another story that's not quite ready. Yes,  he is an alpha reader of mine. :) He's just about 9, so he's only allowed to read certain stories. And he didn't get a chance to read this one, yet. Not real sure if he would be able to comprehend this one at his age though, so we will leave that at that. (He did come home two days ago and told me that my desire is rubbing off on him and he is now writing stories and wants to be published! YAY!!!)

So, now we wait until the 1st of November. Please come back here or check out KazkaPress.Net on November 1st to read my story! Thank you all for you wonderful support!


Wednesday, October 19, 2011

3rd Write Campaign Challenge

And here we are wrapping up the 3rd and final Campaign Challenge. Rachael Harrie is one amazing woman to do this. I want to thank her for her hard work and dedication. This undertaking sure has made it a challenge just for her. Please stop by her blog and thank her too. 


Here are the rules for the 3rd challenge:

Write a blog post in 300 words or less, excluding the title. The post can be in any format, whether flash fiction, non-fiction, humorous blog musings, poem, etc. The blog post should show:
  • that it’s morning,
  • that a man or a woman (or both) is at the beach
  • that the MC (main character) is bored
  • that something stinks behind where he/she is sitting
  • that something surprising happens.
Just for fun, see if you can involve all five senses AND include these random words: "synbatec," "wastopaneer," and "tacise." (NB. these words are completely made up and are not intended to have any meaning other than the one you give them).


*******
Source

A Proposal

“Couldn’t you have found another program?” Liz rested her chin on her knees as she drew them to her chest. With her finger, she swirled the black sand at her feet. 

Patterns of chaos mimicked the pinks and purples that bled from the sky into the water. The first sun was about to peek over the horizon. Liz watched as the water swelled across the distance, gaining momentum but not height, until it tingled their feet and fizzled away her marks. A small sigh escaped past her lips. 

A BUZOT! from behind made them both jump to their feet. A thin stream of white smoke filtered through the sand dune, exposing a control panel. Salt mixed with burnt sulfur danced at the back of Liz’s throat and almost made her gag. 

“Synbatec westopaneer tacise?” Matt shook his head. 

“What?” Liz cocked her head and scrunched her brow.

“Synbatec westopaneer tacise?” Matt’s face began to flush. He fidgeted with the silver plate embedded behind his right ear. As his finger slid over the plate, the hologram squelched and flickered. He clapped both hands around his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “Fheskkha!” 

Liz knew that pain all too well. Her universal translator was always on the fritz. 

“Here, let me.” Liz scooted closer and took her tiny sonic screwdriver out of her belt. It clicked on and a blue light coursed with the high pitch whirl. She touched it to the plate behind Matt’s ear. “Now, keep talking.” 

“Synbatec westopaneer tacise? “Synbatec westopaneer tacise?” 

Liz upped the pitch of the screwdriver as Matt continued. “Synbatec westopaneer tacise? Will you westopaneer tacise?”

“Almost got it.” Liz hit the screwdriver against the palm of her hand. 

“Will you westopaneer me?” 

Liz added a second frequency and the screwdriver sung.

“Will you marry me?”


*******

300 words, excluding the title. I think I've covered all 5 senses. Did you know they were on a beach? It was morning? Could you tell Liz was bored? At first at least? And did you notice the stench behind them? And how about that ending? Was it a surprise?

Hope you like this. If you do, please vote for #62. And if you want to read the other entries, don't forget to visit Rachael's blog post. I'm sure there will be plenty more before the challenge closes. 

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

I Had Forgotten My Dream

My dream had always been to write. Not just write, but to write books, stories, like the ones I loved to read. But somehow along the way, I forgot that dream.

I have been reading since as long as I can remember.  I've been writing since high school. In college, my first two years, I had no clue what to major in so I bounced from Accounting, to Psychology and finally settled on English with a Writing Concentration. My junior year, I got married. I realized I was a little behind in my credits if I wanted to graduate on time and start contributing to the family finances. I had to take a double load my last year. All upper level English classes. I was reading and writing like a mad woman! At the very least, I had a five page paper due every day. Yay, go me!

I guess I got burned out. Blinded. Lost.

I began to struggle with the questions, "What is my purpose? What am I good at?" I've always said that "I am a jack of all trades, master of none." Over the years I went through spurts of doing a little of this, a little of that, and never really finding my niche. I am pretty OK at quilting. In fact, I've made some pretty good ones if you want to check them out. I've designed web pages on occasion. But, honestly, I haven't updated mine in years. I get on an xBox binge and start playing games and getting into the gaming community. I never really got into anything full time and stuck with it. My interests always go in spurts.

Now that I look back, I think I have been that way all my life. I can remember a time, I think I was 5, when my parents enrolled me in ballet. I attended a few sessions, and when I found out I couldn't wear a tutu I was done. My parents later enrolled me in swimming lessons and I was more interested in playing in the water than learning. When I first got married, I expected a lot of things. I wanted a house, a car, and all the nice things my parents had. Even later when I was all excited to try something new, if I couldn't accomplish it on the first try I became discouraged and gave up. I have a lot of unfinished projects around the house and throughout my life.

I realize now, that I have always wanted the end result before I made the journey. I'm impatient and lose site of the path.

I'm trying to learn (and remind myself). "Writing doesn't work that way."

Last year around this time, I was speaking with an artist friend of mine and remembered my "dream". THAT was my purpose. It HAD to be.

She introduced me to #NaNoWriMo. She told me I could write a book in a month. The whole idea was to "just write". Don't worry about editing. Don't worry about the book. Just write the words. "WOW!" I thought this would be really cool. I signed up for it. I thought I could do this. I thought this was a good step in the right direction, back on track with my dream. But the more I learned about it, the more I thought about writing a novel, well, the more overwhelmed I became. Eventually, I got scared and felt like the failure I always was.

Towards the end of October 2010, I found #PiBoIdMo, hosted by Tara Lazar. #PiBoIdMo is the Picture Book Idea Month, their answer to #NaNoWriMo. Instead of writing 50,000 words on a novel for the entire month of November, you come up with an idea for a Picture Book every day for the month of November. Sounds pretty easy, right? Well, yeah, the ideas were easy to come up with. It got me in the mindset to get back into writing. And I thought, hey, a Picture Book might be a great stepping stone to the ultimate goal. Start small, work my way up.

It got my mind, and my fingers cranking again. In the past year I've written two and a half Picture Books. I've always jumped forward, prematurely as usual, and submitted a few queries, only to be rejected. I'm still plugging away, though, as I have learned that rejection is a part of a writer's life. However, I am now more cautious.

Over the last year, I've written picture books, poems, and short stories. I do not have any one particular genre I write in. My genres are what strikes me at the moment an idea comes to my mind and fingers. My short stories are sci-fi, fantasy, paranormal, dystopia with no hopeful ending, to general. I am horrible at classifying them. And, thus, I have no idea where to submit the ones that I feel are complete. So they sit on my hard drive.

Waiting.

This month, I've really been mulling my idea that has haunted me for years for the novel. I just have little bits. Nothing all encompassing. But I have bits. I've been reading more and more about how to outline and I am still lost. Last week I sat down to do a character worksheet on the main character but realized I have no clue who she is. She keeps changing. Maybe next year I can start that novel. I'm still learning right now. As long as I keep writing, and never give up, never lose site of that dream, I might be able to achieve it.

I am still plugging away at the dream, even a year later, which makes me happy. Yes, there are days that I just want to give up and scream, "I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH! WHY DO I BOTHER?" But I have to remember that writing is all about writing. I write for me, mostly. It is my therapy session. But sometimes it's just so frustrating when I can't get it all out of my head. Eventually, I will come to the end of the stories, revise and edit. And maybe, just maybe, one day I can share them with everyone. And, maybe you'll like them.

I have to remember my dream.


Friday, September 9, 2011

Where Were You When The Towers Fell?


September 11, 2001 started out like any other day--for everyone. But that day ended in total devastation for many, heartbreak and disbelief for all. It was double for me because of the terrorist attacks and the fact that my father found out he had lung cancer. My father is now cancer free and still blesses my life. But, today, I would like to remember the fallen.

Where were you when the towers fell?

Me, I was already at work. Back then, I was working on the Tactical Automation contract for III Corps, US Army at Ft. Hood, Texas. That day was going to be the start of our annual exercise with their sister troops in Korea. I had started my 12 hour shift at 6am and we were getting the servers all set up for live connections, making sure everything worked before the troops arrived at the Battle Simulation Center (BSC). We were going to play a game of war.

Around 8:50am I received a call from a co-worker who was due to start his shift at nine. He wanted me to pull up a news website and verify what he just heard on the radio to see if it was a joke. He had told me that the radio station had just reported an air plane had crashed into the World Trade Center in NYC. He also said this radio station was known to joke around. So he wanted to be sure. Our television in the BSC had been off all morning. And at that time, the Network Operations Center (NOC) did not have a television hook up. Since our computers had already been connected to the Internet, I tried to pull up CNN.com. When the network timed out, I tried FoxNews.com to no avail as well.

The commotion of the troops filtered in and out of the BSC for their training exercise usually calmed down by now on any other given day. That day, it built into a manic deluge. I went to the BSC breakroom where there were gathering soldiers around the only active TV and watched, over and over the unbelievable footage of a Boeing 767 crashes into the side of the World Trade Center. Maybe this was an accident. Maybe the pilot had a heart attack and something happened to the co-pilot. Or maybe the controls got stuck. How could anyone NOT see that big building in their path. My mind was trying to rationalize what it had just seen.

After watching a only the split second I needed to comprehend what was going on, I rushed back to the NOC and said, "Turn on our TV, a plane just crashed into the World Trade Center." A flurry of speculation went up between us all. As we watched and theorized, time ticked slowly by. At 9:01am we watched in disbelief as another plane rammed the second tower. It went from "possible accident", to DEFINITE TERRORIST ATTACK. I rushed outside to call my husband (cell phones were not allowed inside the BSC). My husband was currently active duty Army and worked across base. The cell towers were slammed and no phone call was possible at that time. I kept trying and trying. Over and over I dialed his number. I knew what was next. He would be leaving. I wanted to call him. I wanted to hear his voice. Finally, I got through.

"Two planes just flew into the Trade Center," I said.

"I know. I have my radio on. I just told my troops, 'Pack up guys. We're going to war!'" replied my husband.

"I've got to go. The phone lines are getting jammed. I love you." I told him.

"I love you, too." he said.

And that was our first conversation after the attack.

I went back in to the NOC and we all readied for the start of our exercise. Delayed though it was, we were still having it. At 9:37am another plane crashed the Pentagon this time. I knew my brother-in-law had just been there and was unsure if he was leaving that day or the day before.

We sat in disbelief, going through the motions of our routine of the exercise.  And at 9:59am, 57 minutes after the first plane hit, the South Tower collapses. It was so surreal, almost like watching a movie. And moments later, a 4th plane was reported crashed  in the fields of Pennsylvania, missing its target.


This couldn't be happening! No way!

We all sat with our mouths hung to the floor.

Silence.


.............



What broke the silence was the phone ringing and my boss telling me then need me down at the Sanctuary.

"What is the Sanctuary?", you ask.

It is the war room. It is the place 2 stories below the ground where all real-world operations take place. It is the safe haven for the General and his staff. The motto on my III Corps G3 Operations mug says:

BASEMENT DWELLERS -
PEOPLE ARE BURIED
CLOSER TO THE
SURFACE THAN WHERE
WE WORK!!

Any other time of the year you can hear ants eat. I hated working in the Sanctuary. It was boring and isolated. We had TV, but it was always on the news. And where I had to sit was nothing more than a converted broom closet that housed our classified servers. It was loud, and cold. And did I mention, lonely?

I pack up my things and leave the BSC. When I get into the Sanctuary the noise was astounding. There were about fifty people all sitting at their stations, people walking in and out, people talking plans, people, people, people. It was a sight I'd never seen before in the Sanctuary.

The wall of LCD monitors at the front of the room were sectioned off, 4 of which had the General's presentation, the rest were either on new channels or showing some military computer program that I can't talk about. :) I went straight to work getting people their accounts, email and internet set up on the classified network so we could get information flowing between bases. New computers were introduced into our area and people were always having troubleshooting issues I had to resolve. It was a busy time. I was on my feet all day helping people and didn't realize the passage of time.

In between computer issues and tasks, all eyes were on the news. Talk centered around the stability of the North Tower. We were all hoping and praying she would stand tall. But at 10:28am the North Tower begins to collapse. 


NYC, America, and the world will never be the same. I continued to keep myself busy with all that was going on in the Sanctuary that day. Tears didn't come until after my shift and I was safe at home in my husband's arms. 

I was one of the lucky ones. 

Unfortunately, many were not so lucky. The worst terrorist attack on U.S. soil left 2752 people dead from the World Trade Center buildings, 189 from the four planes that were used (not including the hijackers), and 44 people at the Pentagon--totaling 2,985 families devastated. 

It is now the 10 year anniversary of this horrendous crime. I beg of you, NEVER FORGET!


Where Were You When The Towers Fell? 

Where were you when the towers fell?
Tucked all safe and snug in your bed
Waking to smell pancakes and coffee
Getting dressed, rushing out the door
No need to be late
Just another day of routine folly

Where were you when the towers fell?
Making your lunches
packing your things
Checking your homework,
meeting your friends
Filling the buses
Cramming the cars.

Where were you when the towers fell?
Just came in through the office door
Set your briefcase, keys and cell phone down
Flipping through papers
Business meetings
Conference calls
Emails and emails and more.

Where were you when the towers fell?
Radio, television tuned in to news.
Calling loved ones to hear their voice
Phone lines busy, anxiety runs high
Voices in huddles speak of nothing less
Daily habits are a distant dream
United in terror and pride.

Where were you when the towers fell?
Our home no longer safe
Family clenched tight
Clinging to the common bond
Strangers become family
Grasping at hope
Desperate for peace.

Where were you when the towers fell?
Back to your methodical drone.
No care in the world, not one reminder
On this ten year anniversary
Please don’t make this
Just another day of routine folly.

-Jamie Dement (LadyJai)
September 11, 2011