Twitter, Writing and Characters

Hello my darlings. It’s been a little while since I’ve posted anything for you on this blog. I wonder, did you miss me?

Today I want to write about three things. Twitter, Writing and Characters. Not sure what they have in common? Be patient and I’ll show you.

Let’s start with Twitter and Writing.

Twitter is my playground. It’s the place I go to blow off steam. The place I go to laugh with friends and be me. Yes, me. What you see on my Twitter is pretty damn close to the me in real life. I’ve got a list of Twitter people I’ve met in real life. Feel free to ask those people if they agree. They will, I’ve no doubt.

It’s been just over two years since I was introduced to Twitter and since then I’ve met and made the most amazing friends. Some of them, I am sad to say, I no longer talk with, but it always seems that there is someone new waiting just around the corner to meet and get to know. Lately, I’ve been getting to know some pretty awesome writers on Twitter. Some of them are published, some not. My friends are a mixed bag, I think, and it’s also a great place for me to play and learn in the writing community. I started writing because of the people I met on Twitter. I don’t think that would have happened otherwise. I’m grateful for that. Some of the amazing writers that have helped me along the way are: @texistential, @writermomof5 and @CrystalPosey.

I want to give a great big Thank You to these three ladies! I love you all dearly and you will always hold a special place in my heart.

There have been several more women and men since then that have helped me and encouraged me, but these three are at the top of the list. They told me I had a voice and encouraged me to keep working on it. I’ll also go as far as to mention three very specific people who I no longer speak to. If you happen to be reading this, you know who you are; all three of you were also very instrumental in encouraging me to write and helped me find my voice, so thank you.

Now, let’s talk about Characters.

I’m not talking about people, well sort of. I’m talking about characters from stories. Before I was writing, and only reading, I came across J.R. Ward and her Black Dagger Brotherhood series. I was, and am, so caught up in this book series and the characters in it, it’s amazing. Anyone that has read and loves this series would agree with me. Hands down, her characters are so developed, its unreal how real they become in your head. She also has an online forum you can sign up for and she’s put the brothers up on there to interact with her fans. I’m signed up on the forum, of course, and although most people love that environment to chat in, I find it a little hard to really interact with people.

Then, along came Twitter.

First, I’ll back up just a bit. This was all before Twitter and I became friends.

See, I had read an interview with J.R. Ward where she talked about her characters, the brothers, being alive and well in her head and how they literally talk to her. I was both shocked and intrigued. I’d never talked to a writer before and I had recently become acquainted with one, so I asked her. She explained, “Yes, characters are alive in writers’ heads and at times they won’t shut up.” I found this awesome! My definition to her at the time and one I still use today is: it’s kind of like Schizophrenia with an outlet, minus all the harmful shit that goes along with that illness. Seriously, can you imagine? I couldn’t then, but I certainly can now. All these voices in your head talking, pretty much constantly, and the only way to quiet them is to write. Write every damn word they’re telling you. How exciting! I think so, anyway. If you’re a writer you would agree, I’m sure.

So, back to Twitter. The writer I mentioned introduced me to Twitter and she informed me there were some writers that had their characters on Twitter too. She had some of her own characters on there as well, which I thought was pretty cool because I had read some of her stories.

Let me clarify this for you a bit. These ‘characters’ I’m talking about are not people who have created a fan-fiction account on Twitter for a character that they love in a book, no. (Nothing against those folks, if that’s what you like to do then go for it.) These are the actual writers of these characters. When I arrived on the Twitter scene I immediately started talking to these characters. The vampires especially, because they were and still are my favorite. I talked with my friends’ characters and I started talking to some other characters I’d met. I also followed and got to know the writers for those characters. What a world I fell into. It was fun and extremely exciting.

I mentioned above that Twitter is my playground, but Twitter can also be a playground for your character too. There are lots of ways to do character development and Twitter is one of them. You can put your character up and see how they react when talking to real people or role playing with other characters. You can utilize how your character acts and reacts for your/their story. It puts the character in real situations and helps them grow. My husband has used it for two of his characters that he has stories written about. The main one right now you can follow is @knox_barrett. I have used it as well, though those characters are quietly hiding in the back of my head for now. It’s not time for their story, yet. Soon, I hope.

What I figured out, with all this character play on Twitter I was engaging in, was that I had a knack for character development. Most characters respond to me and I am not sure why that is, nor do I really care. I just know that it’s an awesome thing to help a fellow writer bring a character to life. And, besides that, it’s fun as hell!

I’ll quickly tell you about my favorite. Have you met @CrookedFang? If you haven’t, then you should. He’s written by @texistential, one of the amazing women I listed above. Let me tell you about Xan. (CrookedFang) We’ve been friends for almost two years now. Yes, friends. He’s a character in one of @texistential’s stories and he is fictional, but he’s alive and well on paper and in Carrie’s mind. He’s very strong and developed as well as a ton of fun to tweet with.

Xan was the first character that really responded to me. What I mean by that was he was a whole lot quieter before I hit the scene and started bugging him. And now, quiet and Xan don’t belong in the same sentence together. It surprised both Carrie and I how he responded to me and neither one of us really know why. I’m not sure we need to know why. I just know that he sort of…came alive as we became friends and because of that we continue our little Twitter relationship. I certainly can’t and won’t take all the credit for Xan’s blossoming, because there is of course, his brilliant writer! Without her, he wouldn’t be here, obviously. She’s been writing stories about him for over ten years, but I sure have a part in who he is now. That, my friends, is priceless! Also, it makes @CrystalPosey giggle when we play. That woman is so full of wonderful that I’d do just about anything to make her giggle!

So, I hope that what I’ve written gives you a different view into the mind of a writer and the characters that exist there. If you’re a writer, I hope I helped encourage you to bring your characters to Twitter. I’d love to interact with them.
.
Love to you all.
Wookies Girl

P.S. You can also find CrookedFang on Facebook.

Jacob...A year without him. 12/22/2010

December 22, 2009…
That was the day I got the call from my husband telling me that our cousin Jacob had died. It was the worst day of 2009 for me and ushered me in to a difficult and sometimes painful 2010.

Jacob was my cousin by marriage; I was very close to him. We spent a lot of time together the two years after his brother, Josh had died. They both struggled with heroin addiction. They both died from that same drug.

When I got that horrible call from my husband the world spun around me. I dropped to my knees and all I could say was “NO!” Then the tears came.

After that, I went on auto-pilot. Both my husband and I did. We went about the things you do when someone close to you dies, making the necessary calls, determining arrangements, etc. I went and bought a few Christmas gifts in the middle of all of it that day. Do the next thing in front of you to do, I kept telling myself. I just could not wrap my head around Jacob being gone. He was so full of life. A bright shining light, and he was gone and I couldn’t accept it.
I still can’t.

I have a friend from Alanon who has a sort of connection to the dead, if you will. They visit her, and it’s not consistent, and no, she can’t contact your dead aunt for you. It just happens randomly for her. Now, some of you may think this is odd, or maybe you don’t even believe in this sort of thing, but I do. I’ve had a few experiences, myself, with the dead paying me a visit.
Is it leftover energy or a ghost? Who knows? I won’t try and label it.

About 2 months ago I saw this friend at a meeting and we had a strange conversation. She was crying a lot. We used to talk more than we do now, and she was saying how much she missed me, but she was really emotional. Naturally, I comforted her. The next day, she called me and said, “I know you might think I’m nuts, but someone that’s passed on is trying to contact you through me.” I told her I didn’t think she was nuts and asked her who.

She started telling me that this spirit had been around her for a few days, and all she kept hearing was the word “red.” When she saw me at the meeting, my hair had been freshly colored bright red. She told me that yes, although it was true she had missed me, she just felt like she couldn’t get close enough to me that day. It was as if she wanted to climb inside my skin and find comfort. That morning it clicked for her why she had felt like that.

She said, “I don’t know who it is, but he is big and he has a beard. He’s jolly and he’s happy and he loves you, and he needs you to know that he’s okay. He wants me to tell you that he knows you’re having a hard time and he’s with you.”

All I could say was, “It’s Jacob.” She went on to tell me more. She told me some specific things about his death that I had already suspected. She also told me some other things about him that she wouldn’t have known, couldn’t have known. I cried as she shared what she was hearing from him with me. I cried quietly and I listened. “He doesn’t want you to be angry with him,” she said. “He’s happy now, he’s okay.”

She told me he leaves me signs: pennies or feathers. “Look for feathers,” she said.

I’ll be damned! There had been feathers around. Several times I would walk outside to my back patio and there would be a feather sitting on my chair. We were at the annual Christmas party for my husband’s work, standing outside talking, and there was a huge feather on the ground between the owner’s feet. The owner is also my husband’s cousin, and Jacob’s, as well.
It was surreal seeing that feather just sitting there. I knew that Jacob was there with us, too.

I have a picture of Jacob up on my wall in my office. I stare at it a lot. I know he is with me. In the picture he is smiling. I know he’s free from his suffering, from his disease of drug addiction, but I am selfish. I want him here. I miss him more than I can even begin to express. The pictures I am showing you show the funny side, that “jolly” man that he relayed to my friend. There are also a few where you see the pain that was there, too. I cherish these pictures.

Today marks a year that he’s been gone. I know that I will never be the same after losing Jacob. He touched my life in so many ways. In fact, he touched everyone’s life that he came in contact with. He was a friend to everyone, and if he only had a dollar left in his pocket and you needed it, he would give it to you. My house was full of people the day we had his memorial. We had to move it outside and my whole backyard was full, as well as my patio. It was amazing.

Jacob was loved by so many people. We mourned him together, and we still mourn him.

Much has happened in this last year. Some days, life is just too overwhelming and I want to run and hide. Other days, life is just life and it’s bearable, but it goes on.

I’ll never forget Jacob. I don’t think anyone will.

I’ll end this post just as I ended the one I wrote last year when we lost him. If you want to read, you can find it here.

“These three remain always, Jacob. Faith, hope and love...and yes, the greatest of these is love.”

“You were loved, Jacob! You still are.”

Rest in peace, my light.

I love you and miss you.
M.

Rest in peace my beautiful Rose. My Noni.

Rose Mary S.

Dec 26 1909~Nov 22 2010

I lost my Noni this week.
I want to tell you about her, all the things I remember about her and how much she meant to me.

She was 100% Italian.
She was an amazing cook.
She was a tiny, petite little woman.
She wore high heels, always. (Really high heels)
She never learned to drive.
She carried chicklets in her purse, always.
She loved to go on Sunday drives.
She colored her hair until about 10 yrs ago.
She had short hair as long as I’ve been alive.
She was born in this country.
She had 3 brothers and 1 sister.
She lived through the depression era.
She was a factory worker.
She married a man that was 100% Portuguese.
She eloped with him.
She was married for 73 years. (Amazing)
She has 3 beautiful children.
She has 10 beautiful grandchildren.
She has 25 beautiful great-grandchildren.
She has 2 beautiful great-great-grandchildren.
She lived a long life.
She was almost 101 years old.

She died at home with her eldest daughter and two of her gorgeous granddaughters at her side. She went to finally be with her husband that she was away from for over 8 years.

There are many things I am sure I don’t know about my Noni. I wish I had asked her more questions.

She was adorable. Everyone loved her. She could be very blunt at times, I attribute that to her being 100% Italian. There were times that she just kept quiet and other times she made her feelings clearly known. She told it like it was. Between she and my Gramps, they produced three pretty strong willed and intelligent children. Those children created ten very strong willed and intelligent grandchildren. The legacy moves forward and all ten grandchildren are grown up, each successful in their own unique ways. Most have their own families and children. All of those great grandchildren, with the exception of a few, are growing up together. Just as my cousins and I did.

This is most of us. Missing only me.

We all played at Noni and Gramps’s house. We slept over all the time, in fact, I don’t remember a time when Noni or Gramps ever said we couldn’t sleep over. One or two of us would be there playing and someone would get the bright idea, “Hey let’s see if we can sleep at Noni’s tonight.” She would always say yes. We climbed trees and played games. We spent endless hours playing hide and seek. We used to play house in the basement. They owned an old house and the basement was really creepy. There was one area that was separated from the rest of the basement and it was all dirt. Gramps never wanted us to play there. It was a fairly large, dim area. Noni once told me that when they bought the house it was all filled in with dirt, rock and construction debris and that Gramps had dug it all out. When some of us were bad, (I wont mention who *cough*) she would say, “The wolf is down there and he’s gonna hear you being bad. You better behave!” Now, today…I would never say this to my kids, but back then that’s what they did: scared the crap out of you to get you to behave. I laugh now, but I was scared to death, we all were, of that area in the basement. I still won’t go back there.

I was very thin as a child. I was a dancer. I ate constantly and probably burned more calories than I could ever consume. She used to tease me and say I had a tapeworm. Do you know it wasn’t until I was in my late 20’s that I actually found out there really was such a thing as a tapeworm?

When I would sleep over by myself, I would get hungry late in the evening. (Big surprise, this still happens to me.) She would always take me into the kitchen and let me have a snack. Sometimes she would join me and eat something too. I remember one particular time, I was maybe 10, she was saying, “When I woke up today I sure didn’t think I would be up at 11 pm having a snack.” We giggled with each other.

I slept at her house a lot after age 11. My father was a long haul truck driver and my mother was a nurse who worked nights. My brother and sister are much older than I am and were no longer living at home. Rather than stay at home alone I would stay with Noni and Gramps. I would cry sometimes at bedtime because I missed my mother and Noni would come in and sit with me and comfort me.

As I grew into my teenage years and was driving, I used to stop by after school or for lunch. The kitchen always smelled amazing. No matter what she cooked, it was delicious. When I had my first child at a very early age, and out of wedlock, she and my Gramps used to watch him for me so I could go to college classes. I remember when I got pregnant. I was so afraid to tell them, afraid of them being disappointed in me. I remember I wrote it in a letter and had Noni read it in front of me. I’ll never, to this day, forget the look on her face. She was shocked, no doubt about that, but she didn’t judge me or look at me differently. She is the one that told Gramps. He looked at me for a moment, silently, and then asked if the father was who it was and I replied with a simple “Yes.” That was it. No judgment or condemnation from either of them. If they felt it, they never let it show.

My son was the third great-grandchild. He got to play at his Great Noni and Gramps house just like I did. He climbed trees and explored the back yard and got all the same love and care from them that I’d received. He was particularly close to Gramps but he had his tie to Noni, too. They loved him, and he was blessed to have that.

As I got older and started getting tattoos, they never judged that, either. In 2003 my husband tattooed a portrait of my grandparents on my upper back. My Gramps had already passed. He never got to see it. My mother, who hated tattoos, is very proud of this one. I went to visit my family a few weeks after getting the tattoo done and when I walked into my Noni’s house, I knelt down in front of her to show her. She just quietly stared at it for a long while. My mother was there and said “That’s you and Daddy. Isn’t it amazing?” My Noni, quick as fire, replied, “I know who it is!” I laughed, we all did. I think she was just shocked that you could actually make a tattoo look like a photograph. She seemed in awe of it.

The last time I saw her was this past August. Over the last year, her mind started to get a little senile. (Not unusual, considering the woman was 100.) When I walked in, she didn’t recognize me. It wasn’t because of her mind, though. Truly, I believe it was because I look a bit different now than I did the last time she saw me two years ago. My hair is different- it’s bright red- and my face seems to have changed a bit too. I asked her, “Do you know who I am?” She looked at me a few moments and then I said who I was. Recognition dawned, then. “Ohhh, M,” she said. “You look so beautiful.” Wow! She has always given all of us compliments, but this was different. Her eyes were so big. It made me tear up. I thanked her, kissed her, and hugged her.

We chatted a bit about my husband and my two little ones. Then we talked about my oldest and how he is nineteen now. That shocked her, too. We haven’t lived there in over ten years, and although she saw him two years ago, it was hard for her to imagine him being nineteen. In between chatting she would stop and say, “Wow you really look swell honey, you really do.” It was strange and wonderful at the same time. The next day I went to see her again and she recognized me immediately. We talked about all the same things, though. It was cute, a repeat of our conversation the prior day. I told her I loved her more times than I can remember, on both days. I kissed her cheeks and stayed kneeling on the floor in front of her, holding her hands the entire time.

I knew when I said goodbye to her that day it would be the last time I would see her.

She was a diamond in the rough. She was a rare breed.

A truly beautiful Rose…

The legacy you leave behind honors you and Gramps, both.

I love you Noni.

Queen Bitch!

Hello, my Lovelies.

I know it’s been a little while since I’ve posted anything. I think it’s finally time don’t you?

Today I want to talk to you about me. (There’s a surprise, huh?)

I’ve labeled myself a Bitch. Honestly, others have labeled me that, as well. At one time it was a joke on Twitter.

I love to be right and I usually am, *grin* not really- so, I started calling myself the “Queen of Rightdom in the Land of Who Knows Where.”

Over the years, I’ve been called a Bitch, many times. Here are some examples: Bitch, cold hearted Bitch, narcissistic Bitch, selfish Bitch, sarcastic Bitch, ungrateful Bitch…the list goes on and on.

Because of all of that, I’ve just decided to take my throne and be your Queen Bitch.

I’ve looked up some definitions of the word “bitch.” It was interesting what I found. Here are my favorites:

Dictionary.com says: –noun - Slang . a.) A malicious, unpleasant, selfish person, esp. a woman. b.) a lewd woman.

The online slang dictionary says: a servant, subordinate, or inferior competitor. Often used in the possessive (I thought this one was interesting, but we’ll save for later)

Finally here is the wiki page for Bitch. I’ll let you read that one yourself.

Why am I a Bitch? I am a Bitch because I don’t choose to put up with any shit. It’s a rare thing if I ever do. I’ve had some experiences lately where I tolerated some shit and was quite beside myself over it. But that’s another story for another blog in another time… maybe in the Kingdom of Who Knows Where… who knows?

I don’t really give a shit if you like me or not and I don’t really care what you think about me. It’s none of my business. When I am hurt, I retaliate. I can be quite vindictive, and although I don’t think that behavior is appropriate, it happens. I can also be very passive aggressive when I am hurt or angry. I’m also very selfish and I am not afraid to admit that, either. I am completely vain and I care about how I look. I had my first kid when I was 19 and he ruined my body. You can be damn sure that last year when I got a really nice bonus check from work I had some “mommy repair surgery.” I’m proud of my body, my breasts, and how I look and I am not afraid to show that off. I am a total attention whore. I guess that falls in line with the Dictionary.com definition and I don’t disagree. I can be and have been all of those things.

But, did you know there are different levels of Bitch? In fact there are some Bitches that I would never keep company with. I may be vindictive, selfish and passive aggressive like I mentioned but there are lines that are very important to observe and keep track of.
For example, I would never malign someone publicly or try and discredit them. I may complain to my friends privately but I won’t publicly talk shit about you or anyone else. No matter how right I think I am or how wrong I think you are, that sort of thing will always reflect badly on me. It’s childish and stupid. I would never stick my nose in the business of others where their families are concerned. This kind of underhanded action only does harm. Should I remind you of a little phrase, “mind your own business?” I’ve seen these things countless times on Twitter, unfortunately. May I ask why? Is your life so boring that all you can do is concern yourself with the behavior of someone else? Good lord, people, just live and let live.

For me, I’ve got enough on my own plate to concern myself with rather then focusing on what someone else is doing or not doing. Because of that, I’ll cast my stones in my own back yard and save my vindictive, passive-aggressive behavior for one on one.

Here is something else you should know about me.

In regards to the narcissistic or self absorbed Bitch labels I’ve been given… If you saw me in the morning or anytime with no makeup you would never say “WOW, you are gorgeous.” Because, I am not. I KNOW that I am not beautiful or gorgeous in that “naturally” pretty sort of way. My husband thinks I am and says so, but that doesn’t really count. It’s like a requirement or something when married.

I’m really quite average in the looks department. I have to work for it, work at it, or whatever you want to call it. Like many people, I was teased in grade school and high school. I was too skinny and a late bloomer. The pictures you all see me post on Twitter or my blogs are carefully chosen. The makeup has to be complete, the hair done. The bags under my eyes can’t be too obvious or you will NEVER SEE the pictures. You may tell me based on looking at my pictures that you think I am pretty or you think I am beautiful, even, and yeah that’s great… thanks for that. But my face or my body is not what makes me pretty or beautiful. It’s my personality.

Yup, you guessed it! My Queen Bitch personality.

I’ve known, and do know many, many beautiful women. Many you see first thing in the morning and they are just naturally pretty, or they just came from the gym, hair is a mess and they still look good, gorgeous even, but when they start talking? Oh hell…forget it.
It takes more than a pretty face or a nice rack to be real. It takes more than a giggle and a flip of the hair to hold my interest.

I know many women who I believe are gorgeous. Maybe you wouldn’t agree and maybe you would. They are aesthetically pretty or average, yes, but that’s not all there is. They have an edge, an attitude that makes them come alive before your eyes. They are usually Bitches, too. These women are my favorite to hang and be real with. I’m happy to call them my friends.

When you are on the average side of pretty, and even if you have a nice body, then you still have to work at it. You have to learn to rely on your assets and that boils down to personality. This applies to men too.

People who have met me in person will tell you I am no different then when they only knew me on the web. Those same people will tell you that I am sweet, that I have a big heart, and that I care about people.

I can say, more or less, that yes, all of that is true. I’m loving. I’m caring. I genuinely will be there for you if you ever need someone to talk to or to lean on. I am also very loyal, to a fault. But I am a bitch too, a ruthless one at times.

Here are some of my favorite Bitches that I am proud to call friends. I love these women. They are REAL! They are gorgeous in my eyes, and it’s their personalities that make that so.

Welcome to my Bitch list, ladies!

@divine_pk This gem goes at the top of this list. This woman is so smart and funny. Let’s not even get into how talented she is, and completely gorgeous, inside and out. I talk to her every day, and recently spent the weekend in her home. She understands me like no other. Much love and respect to you, Paula. My favorite Bitch!

@CarrieClevenger OMG this woman has been a friend to me pretty much since I hit the stream of Twitter. She is grumpy, snarky, cynical, intelligent and TOTALLY AWESOME!! I love ever single part of her. She is one of the few people that encouraged me to write. I think she is very beautiful. I’ve no doubt she’ll be a friend for life. It was amazing to be able to spend time with her in person this past summer. She’s been recently published, too. So congrats, my friend, you’ve totally earned it! You can find the books here.

@fanyberg What a doll! Complete sweetheart. She is kind and loving, soft and so talented. She’s “Real,” and that makes her beautiful to me. We’ve met in person the end of July, too. She’s learned recently how to let her inner Bitch out! So proud of you darlin’. Love you.

@julianna12369 This woman is amazing. We’ve talked on twitter for a while, now, and we have some things in common. Just last night, out of the blue, we started talking in DM, and that led to chatting in yahoo. HELL, we have a LOT in common, and because of that she officially made my beautiful Bitch list. Love you girl, and I look forward to meeting in person and racing side by side down the freeway in our matching Beemers very soon!

@mistalicious Oh where to start with this woman? So sweet, completely adorable! Strong, and full of personality and wit! She had a mutual friend come to me and ask me to follow her back. I thought that was AWESOME! One of my Bitches, for sure, and we’ve met in person. Love you, my sweetie!

@shimmer418 Another amazing, beautiful woman. She’s one of the #boobiewednesday founders. We’ve started talking on the phone recently and I’ve been helping her out on the side with that cause. It takes a strong talented smart Bitch to embark on that campaign. Talk about the definition of “lewd” listed above; what’s more lewd then flaunting your bare chest and or cleavage every week or day even on the web right? Well let me tell you. It’s not lewd at all! It’s a way to bring attention to a very worthy cause. This woman has a heart of gold! Go visit her site: http://boobiewednesday.com/

@CtKscribe I don’t even know where to begin with this woman. She is simply AMAZING. She is loud and proud and so outspoken she’s become one of my idols. She is an awesome writer and funny as hell. Yes, she is gorgeous, too, but like the other women it’s her personality that makes her gorgeous to me. She is one awesome Bitch!

@redheadwriting I’ve met this woman in person, as well. We had lunch together. We connected. Why? You guessed it, she’s a Bitch. Just like me. Again, she is gorgeous, talented, funny and sarcastic. So strong in her heart and soul! She’s an amazing writer and she is also one of my idols. I would stand by her side anytime.

There are so many other women I could tell you about that make my Bitch list. If I listed them all, this blog would go on forever.

So what is my point? I guess it’s to say that I am a Bitch, and I am beyond okay with it.

I believe that the Bitch side of my personality is awesome, and there are those that absolutely LOVE that side of me. I embrace it. There are many things that make up being a Bitch. Some are not appealing to people and some are. I personally would rather be friends with a Bitch then someone who is cotton candy sweet with no depth.
If you’re a Bitch like me then you should embrace it!

Loving, caring, intelligent, funny, mean, nasty, sarcastic, and yes, sometimes lewd.

All of that works for me.

Much love to you all, and mostly, MUCH love to my Bitches!

Your Queen Bitch,
Wookiesgirl

P.S. Here is a video I made today of my brother explaining one of the reasons he thinks I’m a bitch, which I think is hilarious.

P.S.S I've added this awesome site I found online http://www.bitchware.net/ Check it out!

My Best Advice, as a New Writer to…New Writers

The following is a post written for Peevish Penman's: My Best Advice for New Writers blogfest

I had the privilege of attending RomCon this past weekend in Denver Colorado. It’s a Romance book genre conference meant for readers; what I noticed, though, is that among many of those readers, I found writers of all kinds. Some were bloggers, some reviewers and yes, most importantly, some aspiring romance writers. Since I had been asked to participate in this blog, I grabbed the opportunity before me, while at RomCon, to ask some published authors what was the best advice they had been given when they, themselves, were aspiring writers.

All of them answered my question quite graciously. “Keep going! Don’t stop because you never know which book it is that will get you published,” or, “Join a local chapter of writer’s groups,” and, “Don’t keep polishing. Move onto the next story.”

These authors had retained this valuable advice, and it’s what they now pass on to those seeking their wisdom and wanting to learn the craft.

I’m a new writer, and by new, I mean I didn’t start writing until August 2009. I have been told many of the same things I listed above, most frequently, “Don’t give up! Keep writing!” and “Show your stuff to people that will give you honest feedback and help you grow.” That being said, it can be scary to put yourself out there. It can be hard to not take the feedback or criticism personally. There will be people who may, at times, come across as being harsh, so it’s important that you find people who are willing to teach you and share what they have learned. The criticism must be constructive or it will do you no good. I have some wonderful and patient writer friends who are not afraid to tell me the truth and to push me. They are also willing to teach me. A big thank you to them!

My biggest struggle as a new writer has been trying to get the visions of the story in my head translated into actual words on the page. I’m finally beginning to string some words together. In the meantime, I’ve written a lot of poetry. The poetry has allowed me to experiment with different words and different ways of expressing my thoughts. This has helped me immensely. However, because I was writing only poems until recently, I didn’t even dare refer to myself as a writer.

This is not to say that I think other writers of poetry are not “real” writers. I truly believe they are. This is my own crazy thinking and only pertains to me, because what I want to do is write fiction. Never mind the fact that this writing thing happened for me out of nowhere.

Me? Seriously? A writer? *gasp*

I’ve had the hardest time calling myself a writer. I was recently speaking with a friend about the short story I had just written. He said, “Do you believe you are a writer now?” Again, my answer was no. Of course, he lectured me.

Here’s the thing: now that I have finally written and finished my first fictional short story, my thoughts have changed. I don’t want to be just a writer. I want to be a good writer! And, I suppose, in my magic mind, until I consider myself a good writer, I will have trouble calling myself one.

On that note, I really don’t think I have any business giving advice to anyone, considering the fact that I am a beginner.

I will say, as it’s been said to me, “If you write, then you are a writer!”

And please, don’t give up before your miracle happens!

WookiesGirl

Loss and Absolution

Since this is my place to rant about my daily events in life, I've decided I may as well let some of the thoughts in my mind out.

This last week has been incredibly sad for me.
I've suffered more losses than I care to think about. People that I let into my heart have turned on me and fed me to the wolves. People that I trusted wholeheartedly...
Don't get me wrong, this isn't meant to be a "pity party" or a"poor me session". I've remained quiet this week... tried to maintain some dignity and grace. Notice I said tried because there have been times this week where I've failed to do that. I'm human like the rest of you.

Today I woke feeling so empty inside and yet full at the same time. I can't hold it in anymore. I'm so angry and I want to lash out and cause harm to those that have hurt me. I'm trying to avoid that. It's not the person I wish to be today...so instead I'll write. I'll write about my pain because truly that is where the anger I feel comes from. I'm in pain. I've been hurt. Rather than feed the anger I'll attend to the hurt and let it out.

Why not right? They can't hurt me anymore...or can they?

I've written a couple of blogs about friends and friendship. I've talked about how I give and give and then give more of myself. This is the way I am. I give all of me and I take care of the people that I love. I expect only one thing in return.
Your friendship.
My definition of friendship is pretty clear. Be the friend I am to you. Loyal, loving, caring, faithful and true. These words amazingly enough have been turned on me.
They now are twisted to say that I give only because I expect something in return. Maybe that's true... maybe they're right.
If wanting my friends to love me in return... to be for me what I am for them is wrong... then convict me.
Isn't that what all people want? To love and to be loved in return.
The things I gave... Love, attention, time, care, help, loyalty and acceptance. Was I so wrong for wanting those things returned to me? I don't think I was... But you tell me please.

I never asked them for anything but that. What I got was something entirely different.

What I got was a knife in the back and a slap in the face. What I got was harm brought to my husband. What I got was burned at the stake.
For what I ask? For what purpose?
Some say I am guilty and it doesn't really matter does it? It doesn't matter what the truth is or what the lie is or any of it. Some say I made my own bed and deserve what happened to me... Did I? Maybe I did...But if I made my bed, I didn't make it alone.

I would never do what these people have done. I would never tie you to the stake and laugh as you burned.

The loss I feel is so great. The ugliness I have witnessed has been gut wrenching. The hits to my heart just keep coming.

How could you?
How could you do this?
What did I ever do so horrible to you that you would laugh while I burned and then continue to pour gasoline over me so the flames burned hotter?
Does it make you feel better about your part? Does it absolve you?

Nothing will absolve the things that have been done...No apologies, no truths, no lies... Nothing.

So I'm left to pick myself up, dust myself off and begin again.
My husband who is innocent in all of this stands by me. No matter what. No matter if the things that have been said are true or are lies. It doesn't matter.
He stands by me. He believes in me.
Cast your stones... but be careful because NONE of you are without sin.

When it's late at night and you're alone in your thoughts you will see. You'll see that what you did was not your right to do. It did nothing but cause harm.

I know that's all I see. I never meant anyone harm and that's certainly what happened. I can only offer my apologies. I know no one cares to hear them and it won't absolve me either. I don't need anyone's absolution. That's between me and my God.

I am mourning the loss of the people no longer in my life.
I love them and I miss them. Some of them will take up space in my head and in my heart for a long time. Maybe forever.

Take care of yourselves please.

Love forever
WookiesGirl

Vegas Baby!

Hello everyone... I figured I would tell you about my weekend in Vegas! Okay you can stop rolling your eyes at me...

Why was I going to Vegas? Well ya see, my friend from twitter @piaveleno and her hubby @slowi were going to be there for the whole week. They live on the other side of the country from me and I REALLY wanted to meet them.

My husband @wookiestyle couldn't go with me so I roped @flygirlie314 into coming, of course she excitedly agreed to go.
We booked our room the week before and got a really good deal. SWEET!!!
We also decided to drive since the flights fill up too quickly making flying standbye a bit difficult. It's only 6 hours and I don't mind the driving.. a consequence of being a truckers daughter..
We set off on Friday afternoon.. GOIN' TO VEGAS BABY!

Now those of you that know me, know that I LOVE My car... (BMW 530i) I love to drive my car fast, hell my car goes fast all by itself. So we're cruising at a nice speed of hmmm about 90-95 mph, sometimes over a 100 depending on if we were passing someone. I had a running partner... You know another car that is speeding also. You run the freeway together...FUN! (I know I am a racing dork) Anyway...



For about the first 4 hours of the trip I was running with this Mercedes S500. Nice car. I let him lead... and we made REALLY good time. I lost him close to Laughlin because we had to pee.



We pass Laughlin and we're on the final stretch. This LONG 2 lane freeway. Nothing but desert on either side. I guess its about a 50 mile stretch-not sure.
So we're cruising and the music is blaring...At this point @flygirlie314 has put on her "Vegas" Play list and she is torturing me with Elvis and Wayne Newton. GOD HELP ME...

Anyway... @flygirlie314 see's a cop go by on the opposite side of the freeway and sees him slow and make a U-turn in the dirt divider.. OH SHIT! Here come the lights... Hmmm
So I casually pull to the right lane and slow my roll... "What the hell is the speed limit?" I ask.. "Hmm 65 I think" UH OH!

Sure enough he pulls up behind me. Like a good little girl I pull over. Now here is the GREAT DEBATE. I was just talking about this with my friend @corbsilverthorn. I NEVER GET OUT OF TICKETS! Never never never...so I KNOW I am going to get a ticket.

My adopted (by choice) Dad is a retired state trooper in CT and once upon a time I myself tested for the police force in my home town so I know the drill... and I ALWAYS cooperate.. Contrary to what @corbsilverthorn thinks I DO NOT argue with cops *sticks tongue out at Corbin* Anyway...

I turn on the interior lights, roll down my window and take out my license. @flygirlie314 gets the registration and insurance paperwork out of the glove box. And we wait...(and I tweet in that I got pulled over)

"Good evening, the reason I pulled you over is because I clocked you doing 88 mph. Is there a reason you were going that fast ma'am?"

Now... Why do they ask this question? I have to ask my Dad.. Because really what are you going to say? I think they do it just to see what sort of crap you will come up with...
@flygirlie314 says "Let's tell him that we were trying to break the sound barrier... We almost did it too!" LMAO..

Basically I tell him the truth...
"Well officer, we were just talking and singing and really I just lost track." What? It's sort of the truth.. LOL
Okay so he asks.. "You heading to Vegas?"
"Um yes." and I am smiling and trying to stick out my chest and @flygirlie314 is smiling and Yeah its not working.. He takes my info and goes back to the cruiser.

So he returns and cuts me some slack, gives me the ticket for only 5 mph over.. Gee thanks.. LOL No really.. Thank you officer. However MY BOOBS FAILED ME... AGAIN! (I promptly tweeted this is to you all as well)

He tells me to keep it at or under 80 and NO one will pull me over...and i say
"It's really not my fault... it's my car, it just goes 80 all on its own" He laughs at this and replies...
"Yes I had a BMW when I lived in Europe, but there I could drive as fast as I wanted"
LOL Well thanks for rubbing it in!

So we were off again and this time I set the cruise control at 79... hehe.. See I follow directions.
The rest of the ride was uneventful and we arrived in Vegas in less then 6 hours. Amazing since we stopped 3 times and got pulled over once. NICE!

So blah blah blah we get checked in and then head over to @piaveleno's hotel. OMG
Let me tell you about this girl.


She is a sweetie.. TOTAL Sweetie! *hugs hugs hugs hugs*

We go get food and then promptly find a bar and I begin drinking some Grand Marnier.. WELL those that know me also know that when I drink Grand Marnier I get DRUNK..
So we stayed out late chatting and laughing and WOW did I mention I was drunk.

About 3am we decide it's time to head back to our hotel and @flygirlie314 decides we should walk for a bit then catch a cab. But do we do that? NO of course not.. We march our drunk asses all the way back to our hotel.. Which was about 2 miles from where we were. Not too far but the next morning it really seemed like 10 miles.
Did I tell you I am out of shape.. Yeah SO OUT OF SHAPE.



The next day we pry ourselves out of bed and proceed to walk the damn mile long mall at Planet Hollywood. GOOD LORD. You wouldn't think that walking would be so hard, I mean you do it everyday right? It felt like we had run 10 miles or something. By the time Saturday night arrived we were tired and grumpy and did I mention tired...Oh yeah and grumpy?

Oh one other thing.. while walking the mile long mall we were drinking. DUH!! It's Vegas... But I went into this art gallery that I had visited the last time I was there and checked out this AMAZING painting. I fell in love with it in July and I really wanted it. So now I am drunk in Vegas and the guy in the gallery is talking to me about it. He brings me into a private viewing room to look at the painting and WOW now I am calling the hubby..
"But hon, its 9k for the painting and they'll take payments. What do you think?"

Well he laughed at me and said NO of course.. Damn damn damn I want that painting.

Needless to say I didn't buy it. =(

So Saturday night we're grumpy and tired and the temptation to just stay in the room was enormous. However the bed sucked (hence the good deal) and well shit.. We're in Vegas right? We can't poop out.

So again we peel ourselves out of the bed and make our way down to catch a cab.. NO MORE WALKING dammit!
Did I mention there was some big fight in Vegas that weekend? Yeah, nope I didn't, well apparently it just let out and the Taxi stand was packed. So screw it we head over to the MGM Grand to grab the monorail. We get downstairs to a crowd of unbelievable size. WALL TO WALL PEOPLE.. You could barely walk. Apparently this was where the fight was being held. AWESOME!

We finally make our way to the monorail, hop on that and make our way to the closest hotel to Pia. So we end up walking from there.. OMG I think I have shin spurs now.. seriously.

It took us an hour to get 2 miles.

So we grab some food which we barely eat and we're drinking coffee.. COFFEE? Really? Coffee? In Vegas.. Oy Vey I am getting too old for this stuff.
So we hang for a bit, gamble a bit, chat a bit and head back to the room.

The rest of the night was uneventful and the next morning as well. We had breakfast with Pia and her hubby at a different hotel and we actually drove there in my car and utilized the lovely Valet service so we had very little walking to do. THANK GOD.

I'll finish up by telling you about the nice EVENTFUL drive home.
We're now back on the same freeway I got the speeding ticket on. There is traffic and its cruising juts fine. I am right at about 80 mph or just under and following a Tahoe. I don't tailgate but traffic is moving pretty good and I would say I was at least 1.5 car lengths behind him. All of the sudden he runs over a HUGENORMOUS truck tire tread.. (yes I said hugenormous).. well of course I have no time to react or swerve or ANYTHING, ya know since I was following too close.

I did swerve a bit and ran over the tread with my left front tire. BAM BAM.. OH SHIT...
So I am waiting now to see if any bells, lights or whistles start going off and nothing happens THANK GOD. However I do now have a vibration when I brake... Hmm definitely will need a re-balance of the tire and probably an alignment.



When we hit the first small town I pulled off and checked the car.. Oh awesome. Tire tread marks all over the front left bumper. My bumper is knocked loose from its clips and is shifted out of place on one side and my left fog light is busted out of its hole. Okay so this is all easily fixed by my mechanic.. Probably just some new clips etc. to pop everything back in to place. Then on my drivers side door there are more tire treads and a freaking DENT!!!!


Fantastic! =(

Now honestly I realize that it could have been FAR worse. I could have lost control of the car and wrecked or I could have really broken something mechanical in the car. None of that happened and for that I am truly grateful.

So all in all it was a decent trip. It was a pure joy to be able to meet @slowi and @piaveleno. They are awesome wonderful people. LOVE THEM! I can't wait to see them again.

That's my story and I am sticking to it!

So... Can I go on a vacation now? LOL