I’ll tell you. This. I highly recommend it. I mean, it contains meat and a TON of dairy, and it’s not really the healthiest meal out there (though it’s far from the worst), but if you’re good with all of that, it’s A-FREAKING-MAZING.
Just putting that out there in case anyone needed ideas. Oh, and you can freeze extras, and it’s even better left-over.
Welcome again to WIPpet Wednesday, where we share a portion of a work in progress that relates in some way to the day’s date.
Today is 5/15/13. What shall we do?
I’ve decided not to share any gory dead bodies with you this week, even though it’s part of what I’ve been working on. You can return to your regularly scheduled breakfasts/lunches/whatever (still sorry about that…). Here’s 15 paragraphs (because dialogue) from a scene that takes place at the top of Cabot Tower. I wish I could share the end of this scene, but rules are rules, b’ys. Shivva and Daniel are in the middle of a training session, trying to open her up to the non-physical senses she (as a vampire) should be able to use. “The teenagers” are a pair of kids in the car in the parking lot, and have thus far been almost ignored by the blood-suckers on top of the tower. Shivva has already lost one fight (and been thrown off of the tower in the process). Good times.
Cabot Tower (photo via Wikipedia)
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“Let’s try it. Sneak up on me.”
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that works. Close your eyes. I may or may not be back.”
He drops off of the edge of the tower like it was three feet to the ground instead of fifty. His shoes hit the ground with a loud thwack, but his movements that follow are silent. I close my eyes and breathe in the salt-fresh air of this place that’s become my home. Waves mumble over the rocks far below me. My body is silent, not even a heartbeat to distract my ears.
A minute later a sharp rapping noise splits the air, and Daniel yells, “Hey! Leave room for the holy spirit, kids!” I snort, imagining the teenagers in the car jumping apart. That, or giving him the finger. So that places him a short walk down a slight slope, downwind. I won’t smell him as he approaches. I won’t hear him, either; Daniel moves like a cat when he wants to.
I focus inward, feeling for him from a part of myself that’s beyond human senses. It’s not his physical presence I need to be aware of, but that part of him that wants to harm me. Specific markers like that are always easiest, especially when dealing with strangers. Malicious intent approaches, clear and deadly. Behind me, moving to the side. When he strikes out, I’m ready. I roll away, up on my feet just before I hit the low wall. He doesn’t pursue.
“Good. Too easy, but good.”
That’s the only kind of praise Daniel gives, so I’m satisfied with it. He’s right, anyway. It was too easy. “You know, it would be much more challenging with a trainer who didn’t actually want to maim and destroy me.”
He smirks. If there were days when he went easy on me, I certainly don’t remember them. “Stop being a wuss, Shiv. That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and all of that.”
“Well, I’m dead. Does that make me invincible, or the weakest thing ever?”
“Moot point. Try again. I’m going to make it harder.”
“That’s what she said.” I position myself in the center of the roof and close my eyes, and he disappears. Really. I lose all sense of him as soon as he’s gone. It’s disconcerting, but I square my shoulders and wait. He’ll be back. Even if he changes his plan of attack, I’ll feel him coming. Punching, kicking, pulling my hair, tossing me off of the roof again…
Cold lips press onto mine, and strong arms pull my shocked body close. Hands tangle in my hair. Cold hands. My mind explodes in confusion. How? I should pull away, but my body betrays me, acting on its own just as it did when I blocked his attack earlier. My mouth opens under his, and the most incredible feeling washes over me as I rise up onto my toes to push myself farther into him. The world around me stops moving. And then he’s gone, pulling back, leaving me to stumble forward into the space where he stood a moment ago.
He’s got that cocky smile on his face. “Your methods are flawed, dear student. You assume too much.”
“That’s not fair!” It’s all I can do to not stomp my foot in a childish fit of confusion and anger. “Nobody who actually wants to hurt me is going to sneak up to kiss me!”
“No?” I barely dodge the kick that would have sent me over the edge again. “Well, there’s your lesson for tonight.”
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Want to join in WIPpet Wednesday? Here’s the link. Have a gander at the other lovely works posted, share the comment love, and add your own. Yes, it is that easy. After all…
Thank you to K.L. Schwengel, our fan-frigging-tastic host, for making that!
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ROW80 Update:
Eh. 1,380 words on Sunday, none on Monday (though I did manage to make a stuffed cat out of an argyle sock, yay me), 200 on Tuesday. My brain isn’t able to focus right now. I don’t know whether it’s from the change in my meds or just a normal fluctuation in my mental workings. Either way, booooooooo.
Already accomplished 4 blog posts (including this one), plus one scheduled. Yay.
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Sometimes I feel like my efforts to improve my work go unappreciated at home.
Take dialogue, for example. It’s one of my favourite toys; I constantly have little bits of conversations evolving in my head. Random things. Tiny bits of conversational flotsam that distract me from the real world. Sometimes this dialogue applies to a story I’m working on. Other times it’s generated by a situation, and I know it will never fit in anywhere. Still, it’s fun to play with, and I think the paractice helps when it comes time to write dialogue in a story.
OK, so sometimes this leaves me giggling to myself in the grocery store for no apparent reason, but strangers thinking I’m off my rocker is a small price to pay for entertainment and experience.
I recently decided to take this show on the road— that is, I’ve started grabbing every opportunity I can to inject dramatic or interesting dialogue into conversations with my husband. Now he thinks I’m nuts. Really, though, it’s so much more rewarding when he has no idea that he’s my guinea pig.
Example:
AJ: “Kit, do you know where the Windex is?”
Me: “Pointed. At. Your. HEAD.”
I think I should get bonus points for the fact that I did, in fact, have a squirt bottle of the blue stuff pointed at the back of his cranium, but that’s beside the point. You see how this works?
That one just got me The Look. Other attempts haven’t gone so well. Like last weekend, when I decided to go all old-school Batman with a nasty twist, just to see how that went:
Me: “Leaking LADY-BITS it’s cold out there!”
AJ: *dead silence* “That… was the worst thing I have ever heard.”
Me: (after laughing until my stomach hurt) “I didn’t say what was leaking…”
AJ: “Doesn’t matter.”
Come to think of it, we have a lot of those moments when I know he wants to say, “Please don’t ever speak to me again,” and I wouldn’t even blame him.
So here’s my challenge for you: choose your target(s). In the middle of a conversation, use your whip-smart brain and writerly instincts to inject something dramatic, suspenseful, cheesy, or completely bonkers into a conversation*. Defy someone’s conversational expectations. Turn your dinner conversation into a one-sided scene from Flash Gordon, or imagine yourself as a world-weary PI and your [sister, boss, uncle George] as the dame with legs that won’t quit who just walked into your office with a sob-story that makes you reach for your [whatever world-weary PI’s drink]. On your way out the door to get groceries, convince the dog that you only have five minutes to get to the store to diffuse a bomb/stop the alien body snatchers/defeat the Invasion of the Watermelons of Death.
Trust me, dogs love that shit.
And please, report back to us here, whatever happens. (Disclaimer: I am not responsible for what happens if you try this on the wrong person and they call the police. That’s all on you, you weirdo.)
Well. I’ve been nominated for a few blog awards now, and I’m going to be accepting them over the next few weeks (as will be explained later). But most of these things require a list of random facts about myself. Heeeeere’s what I’m gonna do: I’m going to put this post right here and refer back to it so I don’t have to keep track of what I’ve said and what I haven’t.
Yay!
So, here’s some random crap about me. Feel free to skim or skip. 😉
I’m married to a Mountie. Yes, he has the red serge uniform, but I prefer his everyday blue and grey one. No, he doesn’t have a horse. Yes, I wish he did.
Also, massive boots (with mine)
I love chickens. Like, I’m obsessed. I want a few laying hens of my own, but getting them around here is a problem (I could get a few varieties of bantams if I wanted, but no one around here has the orpingtons, australorps, and the other big girls I so love). No companies will ship day-old chicks here because mail takes so long. So I sit and weep.
My brain explodes when I find things in real life that match up with things in my stories. An actor who holy crap looks exactly like Aren, a breed of horse that’s just an omnivorous diet away from my fictional horse species, a landscape that looks like a place in Tyrea. Freaks me out, and I LOVE IT.
I’ve lost 10 lbs since last summer. I want to lose more, but I don’t want to lose more boobage. I’m so torn. BOOBS, DON’T LEAVE ME I NEED YOU.
The first story I finished and was proud of after I started recovering from round 1 with depression was called “The Tale of the Three Princesses” and was about what happened when Cinderella, Snow White, and Rapunzel all realized they were married to Prince Charming (that jerk!). I loved it. I have no idea what happened to it.
Hey, maybe I’ll re-write that some day…
I love crazy socks, especially ones I can mix and match. Wrong colours don’t bother me, but I can’t wear two socks of different weights/textures.
Got these for Christmas. Fantastic.
Which reminds me: I have this weird thing where both sides of my body have to be equal. Like, if I hit one toe on a shopping cart, I have to stop and hit the other one to make them feel the same. If I scratch one arm, I have to scratch the other. And if I’m sleeping on one side and have to get up, I can’t fall asleep again on the same side. I have to roll over (yes, even if I’m not consciously thinking about it. Took me YEARS to figure out why I had to keep rolling over)
Going back to the sock thing, I enjoy making sock animals and monsters. So cute.
I also customize My Little Ponies and Monster High dolls. Well, I did, I don’t have time now. I can’t seem to grow up.
Trippy Tulip in terrible lighting
before (l) and after (r). I like mine better. 🙂
My favourite Pinterest board I keep is my Crushable board. I was going to call it “Doable,” but I decided to add my girl crushes, and I kind of don’t swing that way.
I have three cats. You’ve seen pictures of Harriet and Lucy (though it’s really hard to get a good picture of a black cat!), but maybe not Charlie. He’s a weird dude. I love him, but he’s nuts. Always has been. All three are former shelter cats, adopted as adults. I highly recommend it.
Charlie: Psycho-Puss extraordinaire
Harriet: one classy lady
Lucy’s “CHEEEEEEESE!” face
My favourite book is East of Eden by John Steinbeck. The writing makes me cry because I will never achieve anything like it, and I love the story, the characters, and the way references and themes are woven through the narrative. That said, I’ve never finished any of Steinbeck’s other books. Yet.
I want to make a living as a writer. I don’t think it’s going to happen, but I can dream.
I think I’m a nice person. I’m also lazy and selfish, though. Not sure what that makes me, other than normal.
There are a few celebrities who I dislike far more than I should dislike anyone I’ve never met. They consistently annoy me, and I try to avoid reading or seeing anything having anything to do with them because it all just tends to piss me off more. Hint: if you have ever had a singing career just because you’re pretty (I can’t even explain how much this pisses me off), are famous for being famous, played dumb for TV ratings (please tell me that was an act), continue to be famous for doing nothing of note except for being in public and getting pregnant, and/or give your children whackadoodle names because they’re speshul snowflakes, you might be on that list (I’ve included several people here, but you get the idea). I’ve tried to like you, it’s just not working out. I’m sure this doesn’t bother you at all, but I’m still sorry. When bad things happen to you I do feel sorry for you as a human being, and I might even jump into conversations to defend you on that level. But you still piss me off as a celebrity.
Sometimes I rant a little.
I am totally wasting time right now that I should be using for more productive things like writing or laundry.
I love the smell of tomato plants. They smell like summer.
I don’t watch movies very often, but I have a few I’ll watch over and over: Empire Records, Clueless, Sugar and Spice, Drop Dead Gorgeous, The Shipping News, Voyage of the Dawn Treader, several others. I don’t always have the attention span for anything new and/or too serious.
It’s very difficult for me to not do posts here on weird things my 5-year old says. He is the king of random.
I’m done for now. Anything else you need to know? Ask away. 😉
Do you ever look at your blog stats? I don’t do it very often. I love comments, I really like likes, but it doesn’t matter much to me how many other people are clicking on over here. I’m not selling anything (not yet, anyway). Sometimes it’s fun, though. I’m looking through the search terms people have entered and somehow ended up here in DtP land, and it’s interesting. Most fall into a few clusters:
“Depression Writing,” “Bad writing because of depression” (hey!), “writing to help treat depression.” Well, yes, I have written about that a few times. Hope I can help.
“Scrivener vs,” “disadvantages of scrivener,” and “yarny vs” could all have only led to one post. Again, hope I helped.
And then there are my personal favourites:
“Velveteen rabbit syndrome” (I know why it got them to me, it’s just funny)
“Happy birthday to the amazing mom” (Aww, thanks!)
“allan hawco” (yeah, baby!)
“pooka pie”
“parental guidance”
“what are floor bags in southeast asia” (This is my favourite, hands down)
One more, here. The only one for which I have no bloody clue how it brought someone to my blog:
“template for a multivolume manuscript for a family history in mac”
I… I don’t use a mac. Or talk about templates. Or family history. Or multivolume ANYTHING. I mean, thanks for stopping by, but I really doubt I helped out on that one.
And 12 unknown search terms. Hmm…
OK, so I know some of you have way more entertaining search terms that have led people to your blog’s doorstep. Spill ’em!
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PS- while we’re here, a few spam selections, just for more random fun:
“Yes! Finally someone writes about gargoyles sunglasses.”(Um… no problem, cheap Ray-Bans guy?)
“We are a group of volunteers and starting a new scheme in our community. Your web site offered us with valuable information to work on. You have done a formidable job and our entire community will be thankful to you.” (HOLY CRAP! They’re stalking me with their SCHEME!)
I wouldn’t look forward to getting mugged for that headphones immediately after I get them and i am seen sporting them.(Who would?)
Hi there, just turned into aware of your blog via Google, and found that it is really informative. I am going to be careful for brussels. (I think we all should be, really)
Thank you a lot for providing individuals with a very remarkable chance to read from this blog. It is usually very great and packed with a lot of fun for me personally and my office friends to search your blog really thrice in a week to learn the fresh secrets you will have. Not to mention, I’m just certainly astounded with your attractive information served by you. Certain 4 points on this page are basically the finest we’ve had. (Thrice in one week? Thanks!)*
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*Oh, and this reminds me: I found a sweet stash of Engrish on Saturday at a store I don’t usually go into. IT IS AMAZING.
Mother’s Day is a vulnerable time for a lot of women, my wife included. This year I asked her to put her thoughts into words. She wrote this:
To the mother whose kids woke up this morning with joy and smiles, and to the mother who feels she has failed 1000 times already today;
To the mother who is being celebrated with chocolate and tulips and scribbled cards, and to the single mother who works nonstop and still struggles to pay the bills;
To the mother who is being embraced by three generations of life, and to the mother who doesn’t know how many more hugs she has left to give;
To the mother who just heard that first little heartbeat, and to the mother who just buried her firstborn;
To the mother who found out she’s expecting, and to the not-yet mother crying in the bathroom as her prayers…
Hello, all! Hope you’re having fantastic weekends, and Happy Mother’s day to all of you who this applies to.
I was going to take today to chat about mommy blogs or do something special for Mother’s Day, but I’m stuck in The Land of No WiFi this weekend and don’t feel like writing that out on my phone. Maybe later.
So.
Part of #ROW80 is posting updates on Sundays and Wednesdays. I can’t add my link to the list until we get home, but here we go, anyway:
I wanted to do 1,000 words a day on the new story, which REALLY needs a title. I almost made it; 1600 on Wednesday, 400 on Thursday (bad day for scheduling), 200 on Friday and 1200 on Saturday.
Not back to editing Bound yet, but I’m getting really antsy, wanting to dive back into it. I think that’s good. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder; I’m hoping it also makes the brain grow sharper.
Blog posts: check (even if the one about Merida got at least one facebook friend upset with me)
So, this coming week we’ll stick with 1000 words a day on the new one. Three blog posts, including WIPpet Wednesday (which I haven’t even thought about yet). I usually do more, but blog writing is supposed to be the add-on writing, not the focus.
And that’s it. 7,000 words for the week, and hoping to finish the first draft before I dive back into edits on Bound; goals for that will be coming soon.
How have you all been doing on your goals the week, writing or otherwise? Need a friendly kick in the pants? High five? I’m here for you!
As promised in a previous post, I am going to start doing giveaways now! So here is the first giveaway prize that I will gift:
I chose this book because the current novel I’m working on, Stolentime, has a similar eerie, quirky, bizarre atmosphere, and so I figured Coraline would make an excellent first book giveaway.
Here is the description from Amazon:
The day after they moved in, Coraline went exploring….
In Coraline’s family’s new flat are twenty-one windows and fourteen doors. Thirteen of the doors open and close.
The fourteenth is locked, and on the other side is only a brick wall, until the day Coraline unlocks the door to find a passage to another flat in another house just like her own.
Only it’s different.
At first, things seem marvelous in the other flat. The food is better. The toy box is filled with wind-up angels that flutter…
Warning: rant ahead. These are my own initial thoughts and impressions, though I doubt I’m alone in my observations.
Remember when Brave came out? I don’t. I don’t pay much attention to movie releases. But I do remember the first time I saw it, after it came out on DVD. I was blown away. It was funny, and heartwarming and a little frightening at times. It was a story about love, but not about finding a prince.
And Merida. Kicked. ASS.
Here was a princess I could get behind. One who pushed against the expectations that strangled her, who embraced what freedom she had and used it to ride, to shoot, to live in the beautiful word around her, to climb fecking mountains when the mood struck. Her little rebellions were believable in the context of the movie, and when she felt helpless, she went out and tried to figure it out on her own. Sure, that backfired spectacularly and she came off looking like a total brat a few times, but that was part of the charm. She was real. And she sure as hell wasn’t the Disney princess type. She was athletic. Her legs were strong, her boobs those of an actual teenager and not a twenty-something playing a teenager, her stomach strong, though not tucked into a perfect hourglass figure.
And her hair. That wild, frizzy, breathtaking, defiantly red hair that captured everything that she was. You could tell just by looking at her that this isn’t a girl content to sit and brush her hair and pretty herself up and sit around doing princess things. She was as wild as her hair, as frizzed-about-the-edges, as passionate as the colour and as unpredictable and defiant as every randomly-bent corkscrew.
I case you haven’t guessed, I cheered. I fell in love with this strange, kind of odd-looking girl who was allowed to screw up and make her own mistakes, who learned something about herself, who changed her world, and who did it without the help of a prince.*
Did you see this?
Merida is taking her place in the Disney Princess line-up. They just had to change a few things about her.
Now, before anyone accuses me of overreacting, I want to say that I’m aware that some changes are due to a shift in the style of the art; 3D animation deoesn’t translate directly to 2D drawings very well, and stylistic changes are necessary. I’m fine with that. The movie would have been just as enjoyable in a more classical animation style. Whatever. I’m also mostly ignoring the fancy-schmancy dress, because Disney is always altering the ladies’ outfits to make them look good together. Because why not.
It’s the other changes that are pissing me off. Did you notice the different body proportions? There’s less of her. Her waist is smaller. Her boobs are still small (thank goodness), but the neckline of that dress sure is showing them off better. Her thighs and butt look downright dainty. Her distinctive face shape hasn’t changed, but her lips and eyes are emphasized to make her look prettier. *squints* Does this girl even have freckles?
And her hair is still wild, but do you see it? It’s not “girl who just finished a physically demanding and spiritually rewarding adventure” wild. It’s sexy wild. It’s controlled wild. It’s pretty. As noted above, this is partially due to the shift in art style, but it’s more than that.
Yes, it bothers me. A lot.
I have no problem with girls wanting to look pretty. I do it myself, once in a while. But here’s what I see in the new Merida:
She’s lost her big, powerful lower-body muscles. This new girl doesn’t need ’em, and they were just making her look fat, right? God forbid a girl should be strong instead of sexy.
The dress. I know, I said I was fine with it, but I don’t see how the lower neckline was necessary except to make her look prettier. Again, pretty is fine, but Merida is a girl who wears clothes because she can move in them without falling out. That v-shape at the neckline on her original dress was functional. Now it draws attention to her bust. Sure, change her outfit, but not in a way that re-defines her character.
Facial expression. Merida in the movie is expressive. Her jaw drops, her lip curls, she snarls, she cries, she rolls her eyes, and she often looks goofy or unattractive doing it. This new girl could do all of those things, but you can bet she’ll look camera-ready when she does. Every expression will be effing adorable and pretty.
Does this new Merida have adventures? I’m sure she does. But I suspect she has safe, approved adventures, and if she gets her face dirty or messes up her hair, it’s going to look good.
Someone posted this picture in a discussion of this on Facebook and said, “Well, she looks like that in the movie, too:”
If you’ve seen the movie, you know what the problem with that argument is. Merida wears this outfit for a tiny portion of the movie, and it’s very symbolic. This dress squeezes her into a more-feminine shape that’s not her own. It makes her look demure and smooth, and it stuffs her into the shape of what her society expects a princess to be. Notice that it also covers up the hair that basically defines her character, trying to make her look the way they think she should. They way that will sell her to the visiting suitors, hiding who she really is to make her visually appealing. It leaves her passive, unable to move freely, able only to be acted upon, to be chosen, to be pretty, to be acceptable.
In the movie (yay!), Merida busts out of these constraints. Literally. She gets frustrated when she can’t be her own badass (and yes, disobedient) self in that dress, and literally rips it to make it suit who she is and what she needs to do. It’s a brilliant and cheer-worthy scene. She becomes her own self again, she takes action, and her actions change the very people who wanted her to fit their standards.
Boom. That’s my girl.
Merida is a different kind of princess. She’s not beautiful in a traditional way. She doesn’t behave herself, she doesn’t let people control her. She knows she has value outside of being pretty and good, and she’s willing to fight for the right to just be who she is. Disney’s make-over tells us that all of that is well and good for a movie, but if she expects to fit in with the real princesses, the ones who matter, she’d better make herself fit our society’s expectations of what a princess is. Be yourself, Merida, but be better- and by better, we mean be what you’re not. Sexy. Pretty. Made-up. Easily controlled. You have no value if we don’t think anyone would want to screw you.
So yep, I signed the petition at change.org, much good it will do anyone. Please, Disney, let Merida be the wild, strong, brave girl who’s a role model for girls who need to feel OK about not being what everyone expects them to be. Don’t tell kids that Merida is better when she’s thinner and sexier and fitting in.
(for a more professional article, see the Huffington Post piece here)
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*Nothing against princes, mind you, I just think there should be more girls who are complete and happy without ’em.
Guys… I just… I can’t even. My brain is broken. This book was FAN-EFFING-TASTIC.
I don’t go into plot in my reviews (click on the link up there for my review, impressions and reactions), but I’m sure other people have if you’re curious. Or you could just read it.
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