Tag: writing

Saturday thoughts

Meme - Feeling Invisible

I will be going back to the other sort of Saturday post hopefully next week. I am feeling rotten, and the world just seems awful lately. So I thought I would again share my thoughts. (I did not get Saturday Scheduled ahead so this is a last minute scramble for a post as well)

This has been a rough week. Lots of Doctor visits and medical tests. I fell twice. And I feel like I got nothing done. Perhaps that is why I am doing the switch on the post. I need to feel like there is more to me than just what I get done.

I know how to do so many things. I can do resin crafts, sewing, Plastic Canvas, Needlepoint, Digital art, Coding in C++, Calligraphy, Acrylic and Watercolor Painting, Candlemaking, Soapmaking, Play Piano, Book binding, Offset Printing, First Aid, Graphic/Cover Design, basic jewelry design, metal working, wood working, Bread baking, Basic cooking, writing stories & poetry, Editing, and so much more. Still there are days when I feel like I am useless.

Why? because I couldn’t do the mamogram on the right side because of pain. Because my hands curl due to arthritis. Because I get so dizzy I randomly lose my balance. Because I legitimately forget to eat. I struggle to remember to take the pharmacy I am supposed to take twice a day. (20 pills in the morning, 18 pills at night, and a shot once a week) I either stay awake 3-4 days at a time or I sleep 24 hours straight. and I never feel rested. So I feel useless a lot. Am I? nah, but that doesn’t mean that feeling is any less. I didn’t even mention that I taught myself how to publish. I have taught myself most of the skills I have. The only “Talent” I have (An ability that I did not need to practice or study) is writing poetry…and even that I have improved by simply practicing. So if, like me, you are feeling useless….stop and list all that you know how to do. I believe it will help you feel better about you.

The End

The End
FAQ

Okay…Today was the end of November’s poetry posts. Tomorrow will be a quiet day here on the blog. I will likely be trying to schedule the week ahead. The current plan for my blog is:

Monday poetry – This will be Poetry by Patricia Harris

Tuesday Tunes- This will be a day for me to discuss music

Wednesday Whispers – This will be a sneak peak into Serena Mossgraves’s writing. Either Poetry or Fiction. This could be a short story or a teaser. I will try to at least post something fun.

Thursday Topics – This is going to be a bit random. It could be publishing, Mental Health, Writing, Politics, Rants…just about anything that I have burning my mind that week. Or it could just be a meme that I found worthy of sharing…I am not going to limit this one.

Friday Share – this is the same as it has always been. Share with me something worth looking at. Or I might share in the comments something fun. It is a easy day for me.

The weekends are rarely active here. I do my scheduling on Sunday. So I occasionally will post on Saturday or Sunday if I see something that I feel the need to speak about and don’t wanna wait until Thursday. Otherwise the only posts I will try to guarantee is the Book Birthdays. ( I am terrible about remembering to do these here. Fae corps always remembers) I will likely be doing a daily thing again in April, May, October, & November… 2 poetry and 2 art. Whether I stop the other posts during that time or not…well I will see. I did this time because I felt I needed to reorganize the blog.

A Whisper…

The Reaper’s Child

By Serena Mossgraves

The world seems to be a place where myths are taken for granted. Everyone knows the Myth of the pilot of the River Styx. The Ferryman who ferries souls over to the afterlife for a cost. They all have it wrong though. The Reaper doesn’t want coin. They are an immortal being. Such creatures have no need for money. The ferry driver instead takes the best story each soul has to tell. Sometimes just the telling of the story is too much for a soul to bear. Words carry weight. They are the most painful things in existence. They can also be the most gratifying things that life has to offer.
The ferryman has so many names, and most of them are just the myths coming to signify the way the mortal beings see them. For me, they are my creator. I guess you could call me the reaper’s child. It is not exactly correct, but it is the closest term for what I am. I am a story that became too much for even an immortal mind to bear. So, I grew sentience. Now I search the world for the others like myself, dark stories and memories that weigh heavy on mortality. Stories of killers, and crime, heartache, and such twisted thoughts that they are relegated to impossible fiction. That is the sort of thing that I collect. Like the ferryman I take these weights from the ones who cannot bear them any longer. I think of it as saving those souls who would break under such terrible weights.
I save each story in a notebook, lovingly hand written. My creator kept the stories told to them in perfect memory…I am not quite that blessed. Instead I will keep my notebooks…Stacked full of nightmares. The only story I have been able to remember without writing it down is the one that caused my creation. Perhaps someday I will meet the snowman…I would love to collect all of Frosty’s stories. I can only imagine what notebooks I could fill with that.
I have collected the tale of a vampire that would use it’s victims for the creation of art.
And the tale of the ghost who used to be a mercenary in a rainforest expedition that went badly. He was a wealth of stories. He gave me my own nightmares for weeks after taking his stories.
I collected the story of the nun who was cursed with immortality. It drove her mad. She spoke of becoming a killer, and how it was a kindness to save the women from the hands of the priests.
Each tale has it’s own power to describe a different aspect of life, a different aspect of death.
The story of the woman who went back after she died to steal away the child that her husband loved more than he loved her…She sang it sweet lullabies as she took it to the edge of the River Styx.
I could easily entertain so many with my tales. Which story should I share? Perhaps about the creature named Harvey? The flesh-eater that enjoyed driving it’s meals mad first?
I have considered passing myself off as a horror writer. Telling my tales as if they were fiction to see if anyone would recognize. It is not as if I do not have thousands of dark and dismal tales.
There is the one about the three ghosts who tried to get a rich man to change his ways before it was too late.
or the one about the Witch who gave five teens their wish…but at what cost?
My notebooks are a treasure. I do not write the story whilst the teller yet lives. I make sure to leave them a tale to pay the ferry with. I can at least be that kind. Though I have considered what would happen in this world if there where not enough stories left to pay the ferry. Would all of the storytellers end up stuck here? And if they did would that just create more interesting tales?
I don’t dare allow myself to consider it too closely. I might just decide that I want all of the stories.

Okay….1. That is the first flash Fiction in Stacked Nightmares. 2. How many of Serena’s Stories can you see a nod to in that? I will say that one of the stories she refers to is not Serena’s to tell. It belongs to Malachi Nocturm. However, He is very uncertain about how good his writing is…so I don’t know if I can talk him into finishing it and then allowing me to publish it. So I used a small nod because I love the idea. This is the first thing I have been able to write (Other than Poetry) in 2 weeks. It has a word count of 680. So I had to share it.

Also Serena’s Story Heat & Ice was Accepted by Fractured Mind Publishing for their A Monster I Love Anthology. I will post more as I have details.

A Joke and a hope faery

All of these were made for Serena Mossgraves. I joked that she is too slow at the writing and I needed to stop making her covers. Each of them have been started… some are farther along than others.

I am hoping that she can get kingdoms of Sin and midnight Verse written this year.

Heaven’s Forgotten Tales is probably a few years away – it is much like Apocalypse Atheneum. A compilation of stories and poetry from anthologies. She just started it.

I am hoping that she can be productive with the writing for the next few years. It might be a fruitless hope… but positive thoughts and all that rot…

Also, some of the titles have been updated. I will be adjusting the categories as I have the ability.

Wild Wednesday

This has been a busy year for me writing wise.

I looked at the publication list and I realized that as of August I have 9 separate books personally (with One of them being Serena’s) published this year. And I know that I will be doing at least one children’s book in December.

Some years I barely manage to get 3 books ready for publishing.

I am not sure what the productivity streak has been caused by, but I am so very happy about it.

Wild Wednesday

I HATE AI.

It shouldn’t be something I feel so virulent about. I am aware that AI has it’s uses. I just cannot accept that it is being pushed into the creative space.

Drawing, writing, and other creative endeavors are not something that should be easily reproduced…

I have since 2014 used Evernote for my writing. It allowed me to do a notebook for each volume. It allowed me to organize me…

Evernote decided to send out an Email. Not only were they raising the price…to almost double….which I really dislike but would be fine with paying because it feels like I had something that worked for me…

But they also announced that they were adding AI to “Clean up your notes after a meeting.”

Nope.

No way to opt out. Just here is AI. It will help you. Although I did reach out via email… and the response was that the AI was an optional thing…but when I said that they needed to say that because the original email said nothing about options… and I got a uhm response.

I dislike Microsoft products and avoid them like the plague. I only use windows because I cannot get a couple of my programs to function in Linux. However…Since I cannot find any other option that has all of the options I need other that Evernote…I switched to OneNote.

This is going to be a learning time for me.

I have no idea if I am going to be able to do the same amount of writing, or if it will help me write more…or what.

*Sigh*

Wish Me Luck.

PAD Day 8

Today the prompt could have worked…but I didn’t feel it. Today was the obligatory form poem/anti form poem prompt. He always puts it in. And I have a volume in development for that…but this was the first poem in Ethereal Dreams… I felt like acknowledging that. Each volume is a new mindset. I have to figure out what this chapter of my life is about. Thoughtcicles was about shock and grief for the changes of self and relationship. A lot of frozen thought and self care. I don’t know what ethereal Dreams is yet.

Also we’re a week into November. This is the month for writing… and I think that a lot of people – myself included – see Nanowrimo as a pass or fail thing way too often. It should be about the setting of a routine, not about the word count. If you can hit that word count daily then awesome, congratulations! But if you can’t don’t get discouraged. Set a time for daily writing and meet that every day. Not all writing is novels. Children’s books are a thing. Those require far less word count. Poetry is still writing. Do a poem a day.(that is what I decided to do) Do not measure your own success by the way that other people write. You are going to have a different way of speaking. Writing is another way of using your voice. Don’t let anyone take your voice from you.

Writing is so weird.

Every writer will tell you that writing is not the easiest thing to do. The characters will refuse to be written if you have any thing off, such as the title or maybe the idea of who are writing. Serena has been struggling with the second book in her zombie series. She was trying to keep the name similar to the first one. The first book – Rust, Gore, and the Junkyard Zombie – was named appropriately. It worked for the book. She was also struggling with the cover. Nothing I was designing fit what she was wanting.

Through experiments and discussion I believe that we have found the right title and series title. (I will have to adjust RGatJZ later to add the subtitle).

Book 2 will be The Art of Zombie.

The series Title is going to be the World Gone Wrong.

She is back to work…writing more undeath. I have a cover design that she is happy with. (reveal will be closer to the release date)

Tuesday Tunes

A day for me to discuss music

Lyrics –
[Verse 1]
Thought I’d bite my tongue
Just this once, maybe twice, but the harder I bite
Now it’s drawing blood
There’s a trace on my lips, leaves a taste when we kiss
Try to cover up
All of the lies and all of the lines that I
Bottle up
To keep you safe and sound

[Pre-Chorus]
But echoes of warnings
Like whispers of morning, like
It creeping through cracks in my memory
It’d make me lose my mind

[Chorus]
But every time I close my eyes
It’s calling in like a siren
Threatening to comе alive
Unless I pay the pricе, yeah
But if my heart is right this time
And I can finally bear my secrets
Maybe you won’t run and hide
But love the monster inside me

[Verse 2]
Maybe all the love
Is a switch that we flip when we’re losing our grip
And it’s close enough
Taking good with the pain, go a little insane
All we really want
Is someone to hold until we grow old
And no matter what (No matter)
Can’t be scared away

[Pre-Chorus]
Echoes of warnings
Like whispers of morning, like
It creeping through cracks in my memory
It’d make me lose my mind

[Chorus]
But every time I close my eyes
It’s calling in like a siren
Threatening to come alive
Unless I pay the price, yeah
But if my heart is right this time
And I can finally bear my secrets
Maybe you won’t run and hide
But love the monster inside me
[Bridge]
Beauty in the chaos, all that’s left to save us
Now
Beauty in the chaos, all that’s left to save us
Now
Beauty in the chaos, all that’s left to save us
Now
Echoes of warnings like
Beauty in the chaos, all that’s left to save us now
Echoes of warnings like
Beauty in the chaos, all that’s left to save us now

[Chorus]
But every time I close my eyes
It’s calling in like a siren
Threatening to come alive
Unless I pay the price, yeah
But every time I close my eyes
It’s calling in like a siren
Threatening to come alive
Unless I pay the price, yeah
But if my heart is right this time
And I can finally bear my secrets
Maybe you won’t run and hide
But love the monster inside me

My 2 Cents –
I have always fought the stigma of my mental health. I am a survivor. That being said, sometimes the labels are easier to fight than others. Now I am trying to help my teenager fight them. She wants to write horror. She is into the creepy and dark. When she told her therapist that (New therapist) the therapist tried to claim that she was homicidal. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone. She is a gentle soul with a rich imagination. She wants to write dark stories so she is apparently Homicidal. I raised all kinds of hell with the office. The supervisor talked to my daughter and agreed that the therapist was way off base. So I am left with a wonderful beginning writer who is struggling because of labels. Seems to me that the world wants to label madness too easily and the monsters that truly exist are allowed too much leeway. so today at least I think I love the monster inside me and will revel in the beauty in chaos.

P. A. D #3