Mood:  Mind-humping madness
(want in on the action? click BDI's fabulous piggie mascot)
Now Playing: .45 by some band I have yet to learn the name of
Swear Words Spoken:  0

Today is also National Rocky Road Day. As a warm up, using the letters
R-O-C-K-Y R-O-A-D reveal some interesting facts about you.

R – Road trip addict.  I love to drive, and these high gas prices are killing me.  I love taking the long way around, backtracking, overshooting my destination and then turning around.  Sadly, those days are on temporary hiatus.
O – Occasional, The.  This place origianlly started out as a printed newsletter, believe it or not, that amused the hell out of it's 2.5 occasional subscribers.  This weblog makes life so much easier, and cuts down on cheesiness.  At least I have tried to cut down on cheesiness.
C – Cat person. Cats love me.  I have aspirations to buy a big house on lots of land and be the Cat Lady in my golden years.
K – Kenny McCormick is by far my favorite South Park character.  And, yes, I watch South Park on occasional.
Y – Yearly vacation.  I have two of them coming up.  Five straight days of nothingness to look forward in two weeks, and a trip to Las Vegas to hang out and thrift store shop with Zombie in September.  I also need to talk to Pandora about scheduling a weekend in South Carolina.

R – Rome, Italy.  Destination of my next major vacation, planned for October, 2005.
O – Odin, greatest god of the Norse pantheon. He looks out for me in all my RPGs.  I definitely have his ear.  He seems to be doing some pretty interesting things in real life for me as well.
A – 'A' names.  I am obsessed with them.  They are elegant, gorgeous and sexy.  Proof of my love of the letter can be found in some of the names floating around my novels:  Alec, Amon, Adrian, Arrick, Alan, Aldaerron, to name a few.
D – Damn, forgot to post this mind-hump on time.

Okay, now that we're all warmed up let's move on to a little Mind Humping fun with "I say ___, you think ___." In response to the following list of words enter the first words, phrase, idea or thought that comes into your ever humpin' mind. Ready?  Put on your humping caps.

Mood:   Gearing up for a vacation, even though I'm not going anywhere.
Now Playing:  Previewing the lastest tracks from Bond on Amazon.com.
Swear Words Spoken:   6

My “necessary evil” chapter refuses to be silenced. It’s amazing how a few words can make one sound more productive than one has been. I suppose at this point, a post should be expected on how this little chapter that’s kicked my ass for almost an entire year now has spiraled out of control and into a miniature monstrosity amid a novel that may or may not get completed by the end of the year.

The truth of the matter is that my chapter has increased by a length of five pages from where it was this time in August. I’m at a measly seven pages total, most of it dialogue--stupid, male dialogue. No shootouts, no profound dramatic moments, not a lot of anything remotely profound coming from the keyboard of a laptop which has penned 13,000 word chapters on this same novel. I haven’t even broke 3,000 on the amazing, flowing chapter, yet I am apparently writing an entry in celebration.

I haven’t really been productive this week, not really. The office shoved me on dayshift for the past two weeks, otherwise I’d probably have the thing complete by now. I have also developed a particularly obnoxious habit of starting at my computer screen and waiting for something interesting to happen. For the cool folks on the tagboard (you know who you are) to spring to life with some fascinating topic of conversation I can engage in. For an old friend to pop up on messenger with a fantastic story. For the mother of all internet distractions, Ebay, to post some completely out-there Something that I must possess. I keep meaning to sit down and type this chapter. I sit down, I go through all the hassle of installing Office on a new computer, I open up my piddly seven-page chapter.

And I stare.  Yet somehow, I feel productive.  I'm hoping it's not due solely to the creative impotence I've suffered for too long.  Part of the reason I consciously put this book on hiatus after unconsciously stopping work was to get Alec out of the habit of being a passenger in his own life's story.  He's still in the habit, unfortunately.  I think I may have put him into shock.  Given all he's handled in the previous twenty-one chapters of this novel, the prospects for that having happened are rather high.  Instead of an active narrator, he's gradually transformed into a recorder of events.  A camera, instead of the person in front of it.  I sit at my desk and stare at my screen and try to think of ways to overcome this problem and return the dynamic of his thought process to the novel.

Then I go surf a few sites, think about how bored I am, and go back to staring at my half-completed document, feeling lessened, unaccomplished, determined to type out a few words and be done with this evil, time-consuming, worthless chapter once and for all.

Which explains why I’m writing (and more than likely going on to post) this entry, typing its contents at a rapid pace just below the dangling, incomplete paragraphs of my novel. I should go back to work. I shall post this entry and go back to work.

In the words of the immortal George Strait, “and if you’ll buy that, I’ll throw the Golden Gate in free."

Mood:    Frustrated as hell
Now Reading:   Obsidian Butterfly by Laurell K. Hamilton
Swear Words Spoken Today:    0.  Thought:  A hell of a lot more.

Quote of the Week:

“I am a galley slave to pen and ink. “
     ~Honore de Balzac

The Mambo This Week is "THIS IS YOUR LIFE" (in music)

I'm going to post a few questions and you get to tell us which songs most suit that part of your life or event in your life.

1. Song By The First Band You Liked:  The first band I can ever truly remember loving is country group Alabama.  The first song I can remember listening to is “Roll On (Eighteen Wheeler).  To this day, I still love that song.

2. The Song That Makes You Think Of Your Best Friend:  “A Rose is a Rose” by Poe makes me think of Tara every time. The gist of a song is a woman walking into a room with such good looks and charisma that all of literature’s most famous minds are competing for a moment of her affection.  Tara has that kind of style and energy.

3. A Song By The First Band You Saw In Concert:  I am a country concert addict, and the first show I ever saw was by Brooks & Dunn, shortly after the release of their second album.  Every time I think of Brooks & Dunn, I think of “Brand New Man.”  It’s not my favorite song by them, not by a long shot, but it is one of the quintessential Brooks & Dunn songs.

4. A Song That Reminds You Of College/School:  Hmmm…the quintessential college song.  That’s a hard one, especially since I went to college during the dawning of Britney and N’SYNC mania and am determined not to think of them.  So I shall say Hollywood Nights by Bob Seger, because I took many a good many a good road trip to the tune of that song.

5. A Song That Makes You Think Of A Boyfriend/Girlfriend (Love) Past Or Present:  “Heaven Sinner” by Nikka Costa. That’s one of the sexiest songs I’ve ever heard, and I discovered it just as I fell hard for an older man.  That song brings back some serious memories, and I try not to listen to it.

Mood:   Sleepy
Now Playing:  Anything But Mine by Kenny Chesney (my new favorite country song ever)
Swear Words Spoken Today:  6.  Stupid rain, stupid slick floors, stupid busted ankle.

A while ago, I posted the openings of a short story about some people named James and Meredith, then I and they promptly disappeared.  I do have a little more written on that story, which will make no sense whatosever for a while to come.  I shall take this time to prove I am still productive and introduce a new character named Max, who will complicate the equation.

“Find something you love and do it well.” Those words had been fro my college advisor, the guidance counselor for the almost-grown-up sect of society. (I distinctly remember snickering at that remark, a nice, snorted laugh that came from thinking about going back to the dorms and someone I loved, and doing them exceptionally well.)

“I love you,” I said once, nervous and well aware of every taboo I was barreling through. (The object of my affections was the same utterly fascinating law student I’d been thinking dirty thoughts about in the counselor’s office.)

“Be all that you can be,” the army recruiter had advised with a grin and a roll of his eyes as he’d pointed to the recruiting poster. (They were considerably more cheesy back in the day than the sleek sophisticated advertisements of today’s military.)

“Damn, Al, don’t tell me he hit that!” Shock and awe from my drill sergeant the first time I’d tried my luck with a sniper rifle. (Al was sergeant Vijay Alazando, one of the best sharpshooters in probably--ever. The answer, by the way, was yes, I had, and dead center.)

“I’ll make you a better offer if you’d be willing to put aside a few moral convictions and have dinner with me,” a man who had introduced himself only as Malcolm has whispered into my ear as I pondered re-enlistment. (So I did, and I did, and that is what we call the turning point.)

“I’d pay double your standard fee.” An offer I couldn’t (and didn’t) refuse from a grieving widow.

“Maybe it’s better for both of us that we’re doing this now instead of waiting until we hate each other,” I said one day to the man who had once been the love of my life. I don’t think he’s ever fully forgiven me for it, though we still claim friendship of often awkward grounds.

“Let’s just go ahead and get married,” an incredibly complicated woman said to me a handful of years later. “You know it’s inevitable.” We’re getting there.

My entire life could be summed up by a few words spoken at just the right moments. Those who knew me best knew that I was nothing, if not a student of opportunity.

The creative book-making process has taken a back-burner of late to my newfound obsession with D&D. My gaming group is in the process of running 3 campaigns simultaneously, due to the odd schedules of those of us who play. My main character, a bard named Brynne, is kicking serious ass and charming the hell out of everyone our party meets. She’s quickly becoming the information gatherer/diplomatic/charming swindler of the group, though she can kick serious ass in a fight as well. I love playing her, and we have a tendency to game for about 10 hours at a time, between smoke breaks, drink breaks and food breaks. I am quickly becoming a gaming dweeb, but man, it’s fun.

I’ve also been drawing pretty steadily--again, thanks to my gaming adventures. I’ve completed an impressive portrait of Brynne, and liked it so much that I’m going to do individual shots of the members of our party. Now, to learn how to draw halflings and dwarves…..

On the writing front, Edward and Alan are also still around, though I’m trying to shift my priorities back to the novels and actually make half an effort to get at least two of them finished. I am starting to envision the ongoing saga of Teddy and Lin as a series of short stories, rather than two or three, or one lengthier work. The format will be something of an adventure of me, as I try to think in more linear terms, but it will also cut down on those boring but necessary interludes that come with writing a novel. I have two or three good stories to tell using the two of them and would, somewhere down the line, like to try my hand at something from Alan’s perspective.  For now, though, it will have to take a back seat to my larger works.

I’m trying to get back into the swing of my occult book, Jinx. I’m also thinking or renaming it Pagan Messiahs, or something equally goth. Jinx was cute when I didn’t know what the book was about, but now it’s more of a working title until something better comes along. If you haven’t read it, I recommend you do so. It’s got lots or profanity, sex, loud music, death, and lots of interesting magical persons with varying degrees or hang-ups and neuroses. Amid all that there’s a plot. A pretty solid plot. Good stuff, trust me. I finished one chapter on it last week and am working on another, which is about halfway finished. Working on this book, no matter how little I get done, always leads to feelings of massive accomplishment.

In the “What the Hell Else Can I Throw at Alec?” department, Kisha and I are thinking about writing a crossover of our own. Since Alec and company have already fought vampires in the last crossover I co-wrote with a friend of mine, I figure he can take on the world of cybernetics with ease. I have a blast doing these little side projects, despite the complete and utter lack of any chance they could logically tie into the Centre mythos. Desert Rose gave me a chance to show off sides of my characters I would not otherwise get to, as the more extreme situations are cause for wildly different reactions. In fact, co-writing Desert Rose was probably one of the best things that I could have done for myself, as it gave me a chance to tap into facets of my cast I would have otherwise left unturned, or written off as some cute little cliché.

In other Centre-related news, I’m giving up on that damned chapter of Out of Nowhere that’s been stalling me since last July. I’m trying to make it into something it’s not (interesting) as opposed to a necessary evil (lull) between interesting things. A part of me feels like I’m selling out for doing it, but there’s only so long I can stare at the same three half-written pages before wanting to throw the laptop out the window to see if it will fly. Alec is obviously not going to cooperate with me in telling this story the way I want to tell it, so I am finally going to give in and chalk a victory up to the voices in my head for breaking my will.

I want desperately to get this novel completed (again). Kisha keeps telling me to send in the 22 completed chapters to a publisher and let them publish it as is. I’ve spent the past few weeks reading over the manuscript, and her idea is a good one. As much as I hate to admit as much to myself, those 22 completed chapters would make a damned fantastic novel as-are. I’ve got close to 160,000 words invested in them, and the story is tight, packed with action, and the characterizations are among the finest I’ve turned out.

The only problem is those fourteen chapters I have left to write. The ones that I know are part of this book, part of this story, and that I refuse to leave out, even at the expense of near-immediate publication and easy sequel prospects. Even if I were to walk through the local Barnes and Noble and see my work on its shelves, I wouldn’t be satisfied, because the part of me that knew the work was not completed would never give me a moment’s peace. Publishing the story now, despite the apparent completeness of a half-completed work, would be the worst form of selling out. I don’t think I’d be able to live with myself even if it means being having to live with myself as a published author.