Carpe Scribo

I thought for a moment that I should take some time, buckle down and schedule some blogging before I lose myself in writing. But I suddenly find myself in an empty house. I believe instead I shall seize the moment and dive headfirst into science fiction. I have a few things scheduled already, so it’s not a dire need. Cleaning the house up might be… the mess will only get worse before I get around to touching it. But I did the dishes… some of the dishes… whatever, there are other people here.



A long time ago… in a small city not TOO far away… Nikki and I grew up. We’ve always been zany and imaginative with WAY too much time on our hands. Well what happens when 2 kids with too much time on their hands have access to the internet? Well luckily better crap than happens now a-days – but perhaps I’m biased.

I created a website. A few of them actually. I dabbled in HTML, CSS, but my first was a simple template site through tripod. Do you remember tripod? Or angelfire or geocities? Good gracious how I wanted a geocities site with the prefix of soho… but NO…. that was a different category than what my….  *ahem* Anyway.

What we posted on these sites was our crazy writings. Mostly the funny stuff… but for some ungodly reason we (I) put up some of the partial ideas for other works as well.

Years pass….

A few more years….

Throw in a decade and keep counting people….

I lost track of everything – didn’t think anything of it. Wouldn’t you freaking know that through all of the buyouts and change overs… that freaking site was still online? I can type a specific word set in… and up it comes…. *snickers* to Nikki’s horror and dismay.

I told her – I haven’t accessed it so long, it’s probably impossible to pull it down. Besides – I was amused. So I check. Tripod still takes you somewhere… somewhere with a log in button. Well, I only had one email prior to my regular… I know that’s what I used. Let’s give it a shot.

I stare at the password box for a moment. Try the first one. Nada. Another. Nope… not looking good. One more….. there’s a delay…. and sure as shit up pops the control board. I honestly have access to this antique. So under Nikki’s strict supervision, I tore down the site…. well…. almost all of the site. With her permission, I left one up.

It’s horrible. Poorly written… but funny as hell. The results of two board teenagers digesting far too much caffeine while watching the sci-fi (None of this syfy crap) channel in the afternoons. It’s out there… I’ll include a link because it no longer comes up in a search. I submit for you the humility that is Weekday Afternoon.



But… but…. but wait! I’m not supposed to just sit here staring at the screen blankly. The words are supposed to mean something. They’re supposed to fit together like puzzle pieces. I have the picture this time to go off of and everything… But the more I read, the louder the background noise in my head gets. The less I comprehend and the more frustrated I get.

I suppose that I hadn’t counted on just how much of the story changed. The outcome is all the same, minimal changes to the future books… but this one. After writing it out so many times… I’m faced with doing it once more. I pray it’s only once more. One last rewrite and some polishing… The outline is all there. Every single section within every single chapter… all spelled out.

Yet I feel like something is missing.

We all had a stressful weekend. First being worried for our friend who was put into the hospital and had to deliver her son a few weeks early. They’re both doing absolutely amazing though. Then my poor old dog Chloe ended up with an abscess on her posterior. In the process of carrying her around to get her to use the bathroom, I mis-stepped and landed hard enough on my knee to hurt the patellar tendon. Fingers crossed that’s ALL it is and that it’s not broken. Time will tell on that one. I’ve got a baby shower to plan for, packing to do, a house to clean…

So of course my brain has checked out at the moment. It kind of goes back to the old thing. Do you write for the sake of writing? It’s forced and disjointed, which just means you’ll end up having to redo it anyway.

I dare not take time off again to try and write. Every time I try this it backfires on me miserably. I’d rather just force myself to sit down. Maybe get back to scheduling. These days between these hours I will be unavailable.

Don’t be cruel

I’m of two minds. Okay, I’m truly of thousands of minds for as often as it changes. Part of me feels I shouldn’t be too hard on myself for my writing. It’s currently not making me money , I have numerous responsibilities, and when I am in the mood, I do really well.

Then there’s the other part of me that berates myself for not dedicating as much time and energy as possible to it. “How will you ever succeed if it’s not your life?” or “Every time you write something, it should be perfect. FFS you’ve been doing it long enough!”

I can be pretty cruel in my head at times.

I’ve sat down and knocked out 3k words in one night. And they’re good. Granted, it’s more back story than anything else. Most likely will never be published in anything but some special edition anthology… but it’s details I need to shape and mold these characters. It’s also like the hundredth time I’ve redone this exact section. This time though… it kind of sounds plausible. It’s upbeat, brings the right people in, flows nicely… This one might stay on the books – with approval of course.

I’ve always found that working with Jacy gets my imagination revving. So I find reasons to write her. I know most of it is just practice fodder, but I mentioned to Nikki how it would be nice to have some of that back story to rely on. So we hammered out a couple of details that will fall between books… and well…. we shall see. Time to knock out a little bit more, and then head to bed.

Big surprise

So last year, I sat down and reworked a whole plethora of ideas for Forgotten Guardian. There were quite a few changes that needed to be made to polish it for a finished project. I worked everything out and started writing on my staycation.

Then… my life went topsy turvey. The list thing in the world I wanted to do was look at a computer. I barely touched it again. So much so that my already limping computer, finally died.

No big deal. I didn’t have ANYTHING saved on my computer. I heavily use Google Drive for just this reason and it has truly saved my ass. However, I went searching for that beginning so that I can re-read and get back into the FG swing…

Wouldn’t you know, that I never exported that work to a .doc file. It’s all saved in the Scriviner trial I was using. Which means I now have to reinstall Scriviner to be able to access those files so that I can keep working with them. Good job Jen… Leave it to you.


They say you should write every day – if only a little bit. I agree with this, and I don’t. I see the benefit, it keeps you in the swing of writing so it doesn’t become foreign… But I can always tell when I was in the mood to write, versus just writing for the sake of it. Everything about it is slow and cluttered and well it’s lame… it’s just lame.

I want to write so badly… but I’ve been away from the keyboard for so long… It’s almost like the keys have become unfamiliar. I wish I could find my balance. That happy place where I can be a mother, friend, work, write, craft, hike, and all of the things I want to do.

No med needed

It’s bad when I have a dream so weird, and I can’t even blame it on medication.

I was either dating or married to Nathan Fillion (I know, right?!). It gets weirder… or cooler… you decide.

We were companions to the Doctor. You know… Who. The Doctor decided to become a business owner (it was a front for one of his exploits) and left us in charge of fixing it up. It was an old style western saloon, some where in England (probably London). I found myself though affected by the glamor that had been placed over the city. Fictional characters were coming to life and running rampant through the streets.

Lo and behold, who walks in, but Captain Malcom Reynolds (please note above whom I’m already partnered with in this dream). Only these characters were mischievous, and causing havoc. But I’m following the Captain around like a lost puppy, completely oblivious to why or what he’s doing. Nathan keeps trying to get my attention, but I’m gone.

Well I’m not gone enough to completely ignore the renovation of this saloon. I get back to work, but the Captain comes in with a hoard of rambunctious characters. We have liquor on hand already, so we serve up some drinks and start having fun. Nathan is over it at this point, throws his hands up and walks out.

The Captain and other characters start partying hard when a group of villainous characters walk in. Who else must make a cameo in any sort of science fiction production, but Mark Sheppard as Crowley from supernatural. A full on bar brawl ensues and I’m caught in the middle of it.

Of course I bite off more than I can chew and get myself thrown through a wall, just as Nathan was running back up to see what was happening. I sit up and shake my head in a daze to find that the glamor was knocked out of me. I give him the most apologetic look. “I am  SO sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, but now what?” He says.

I lean in through the hole I just came flying through and wave down one of the workers. “Hey, let’s clean this shit up.”

The worker nods, and all of them stop what they’re doing and turn on the brawl. Whatever the saloon was, it had attracted all of the characters in the city and they were now in one spot to be taken care of.

And of course… that’s where I woke up.