S. A. Hussey

The Gauntlet Challenge

2012-01-21T00:54:00.001-05:00

So I cuffed the gauntlet across the Facebook profiles of Debi and Juli. Writers extraordinaire. Don’t believe me, go take a look at their blogs: The Pen Whore and Pages. Awesome stuff right there huh?

I think they’re both amazing writers - very talented indeed. But like me, and probably other writers, I think we need ~~fires~~ bonfires (burn baby burn) lit under our keesters to get us going; hence the heavy-handed gauntlet thwacking that made some eyes roll backwards right into their heads. (Juli take note)

What it is, and what it all boils down to is this…c’mon people say the word with me - procrastination. That’s the fancy pant, ten cent word for laziness. Yeah, I said it. Laziness. Admit it – we all go there. We languish in Lake Lethargy, hoping it will take us to the Ocean of Oomph. We all make excuses. Hell, I’m the Queen of it. All hail Queen Procrastination of Fiction Land - bow down and bring me chocolates (Lindt dark chocolate truffles please).

It’s not that I don’t have good intentions. I do! (Really, I do.) Every day I start out with a “To Do” list, and writing is on it, I swear. I just don’t know what happens – well, I do but I really don’t want to admit that I’m a Facebook junkie and that I’ve been reading more than I’ve been writing. Time just slips away. One minute I’m thinking, ok I’ll finish this and then I’ll start editing (or writing) and next thing you know, bob’s yer uncle and it’s time for bed. I dunno people…I’m trying.

I said to myself that I would finish editing two books before the first of the year then I would begin a new story, or finish one of the other ones. And now I sit here in worse shape than I ever was. I’m a round shape, and I’m not liking it at all, not one bit. I need to slenderize (in more ways than one). To do this I need to bring in my critters, my pack, mi amigos – my friends.

Let’s face it, only friends are allowed to crit you, by rolling their eyes, throwing up their hands (you like that one huh Juli), and only they can get away with it. They will keep you on the straight and narrow, or sit in the same boat on Lake Lethargy yelling, “Where’s the rum?”

First up, I must fix my blog. I have two blogs one for my writing and the other is for music meanderings. I need to separate them, and I have. (Yay me!) Second thing, I need to post blogs. Yeah, post a blog Steph - HA! (Ummm, that was my muse being sarcastic-don’t mind her) Post blogs? That means - gasp - I have to write. Hahahahaha snicker chortle guffaw hahahaha (my muse laughing)

I found that I do better when challenged. (Seriously, I do) When I’m forced to produce something…anything, it appears I can actually write. Now that’s where mi amigo’s come in. I need to get them off Lake Lethargy and out of the boat (leaving the rum behind). We all need to swim in the Ocean of Oomph and be revitalized. But how? Well, I grabbed a gauntlet from a medieval page and thwacked Juli and Debi for starters. I am sure in turn they will thwack others and soon we’ll be a pack of bitches chucking a mean wallop at each other, hoping to win the Gauntlet Challenge. I so want to win…to have such amazing bragging rights.

Yeah, Queen Procrastination of Fiction Land wants bragging rights – she’s due.

** This particular post is part of the Writer's Gauntlet Challenge among my crit group, an exercise to keep us writing, thinking and being creative. Other Gauntlet entries can be found at The Pen Whore and Pages.

250 Words Please

2012-01-20T21:37:00.002-05:00

K.T. Crowley is doing a 250 word test run of various works of writing. I entered the first 250 words of Maine-ac, a horror story that I am working on. Go on over and check it out - critique some great stories.

Made of Awesome Contest

2011-05-30T12:32:00.006-04:00

Shelley Watters' blog, Is It Hot in Here Or Is It This Book?, is hosting an awesome contest which is going on right now.

My 1st page (250 words) for SEREN'S ANGEL is below. A big THANK YOU in advance for all comments and crits. GOOD LUCK to everyone!!!

TITLE: SEREN'S ANGEL
GENRE: Paranormal Romance
WORD COUNT: 85,000

Emma had always loved coming here. It was her refuge in a crazy world that couldn’t seem to accept her. Nobody judged or criticized her here. This place understood her. How many times had she ducked under the branches of the weeping willows as she wandered along the waters edge of the man-made lake? Lost in thoughts and daydreams she had traversed the many small paved roads, stopping every now and again to smell the flowers that had been planted along the paths.

With her back against the tree trunk Emma pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs and leaned her head against the tree. This used to be her place of solace; the quietness always stilled her mind. Not today. A heavy sadness filled her as her gaze took in the marbleized stones, granite monoliths and cement crosses. Lakeside Cemetery used to be beautiful, but not anymore. Nothing would ever be beautiful in her world again.

“Momma, are you here?” A soft wind blew, gently caressing her face. “I warned you. Why didn’t you listen?” Burying her head into her hands she whispered as the tears fell. “I need you momma. I can’t take it anymore.” Emma felt the wind lift her hair. She looked around and saw the shadows then she heard their whispers. She ignored them. All was dark in her world, now that momma was gone. There was no happy light left in her anymore and she couldn’t help them.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

FINAL ENTRY, after edits made

TITLE: SEREN'S ANGEL
GENRE: Paranormal Romance
WC: 61,000 (will be closer to 81,000 after more edits)

Emma had always loved coming here. It was her refuge in a crazy world that couldn’t seem to accept her. How many times had she ducked under the branches of the weeping willows as she wandered along the waters edge of the man-made lake? Lost in thoughts and daydreams she had traversed the many small paved roads stopping here and there to smell the pretty flowers. This place understood her.

With her back against the tree trunk Emma pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs, and leaned her head against the rough bark. This had been a place of solace; its quietness stilling her mind. Emma’s gaze took in the marbleized stones, granite monoliths and cement crosses. Lakeside Cemetery used to be beautiful, but not anymore. Nothing would ever be beautiful in her world again.

“Momma, are you here?” A soft wind blew, gently caressing her face. “I warned you. Why didn’t you listen?” Burying her head into her hands she whispered as the tears fell. “I need you Momma. I can’t take it anymore.” Emma felt the wind lift her hair. She looked around and saw the shadows then heard their whispers. She ignored them. All was dark in her world now that momma was gone. There was no happy light left in her anymore and she couldn’t help them. Emma sniffed. I can’t even help myself.

Emma swiped the tears from her face on her sleeve then stared at the small, granite heart that marked her mother’s new home.

Contest Entry

2011-03-31T20:11:00.014-04:00

Shelley Watters' blog, Is It Hot in Here Or Is It This Book?, is hosting an amazing contest which is going on right now.

My twitter pitch/logline for REMEMBRANCE is below. A big THANK YOU in advance for all comments and crits. GOOD LUCK to everyone!!!

TITLE: REMEMBRANCE
GENRE: Paranormal

Three witches are reunited by magic and reincarnation, however their future is in the hands of fate, and the sinister man out to kill them.

POST NOTE: I was worried about "the future in the hands of fate..." being kind of cliche as well, after seeing some of the feedback from this morning, I've created a new pitch that hopefully gives more.

NEW PITCH:

Reunited by magic and reincarnation three witches must remember the past to save their futures from a sinister man hell-bent on vengeance.

FINAL PITCH:

Reunited by magic and reincarnation, three witches must rediscover the past to save their future from a sinister man hell-bent on vengeance.

Fear

2011-03-31T00:03:00.003-04:00

“Never fear shadows. They simply mean there's a light shining somewhere nearby.” ~ Ruth E. Renkel

“Never fear shadows.” Hmmm, I’ve always kind of believed that (or I tell myself that anyways). In the darkest of hours I’ve always been able to find a shimmer of light; whether internally or externally, I can push the fear away, find the light and smile. Cool, right? So I ponder, do I have any fears? Well yeah I think we all do but what's the worst one. No, it's not my fear of heights. For me, I think it's my writing. How can it be my writing, as I’m writing right now? Well, it has to be that, it appears I have an aversion to editing and use any excuse for finishing my novels.

In my writing closet there are skeletons, ghosts, goblins, creatures, spirits and banshee’s; a cast of a thousand characters, and they are all tied, unequivocally, together with the writing process. From the very first creative spark, to actual writing, finding the muse, time allotment, chapter breakthroughs, editing, query letters, log lines, etc… It’s all the same. My muse is a banshee (sometimes), characters are ghosts, and I do like them, I don’t fear them or that part of the writing process. I do know how to find the light in the proverbial dark writing closet.

So what’s the fear? The fear is simply this - I don’t like the unknowable, the unexplained things that go bump in the night. Basically, I fear the resultant end; after I've typed finis and know I have to do edits and query. Shadows come in.

Fear is defined as: 1. a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid. 2. a specific instance of or propensity for such a feeling: an abnormal fear of heights. 3. that which causes a feeling of being afraid; that of which a person is afraid 4. to regard with fear 5. to experience fear in (oneself).

For me, writing starts with that first “what if” moment – this is the brainstorm that starts the whole catalyst going. There are also “what if” moments in between – during the writing process where I realize the story is taking another direction but it’s all good. Then you reach the end and a whole new cast of “what if’s” come into play – these are the moments that I fear.

Every thought you think is contributing to the true power of love, or the illusion of fear. Choose your thoughts consciously and wisely. - Dorothy Mendoza Row

What if no one likes it? What if it's not any good? What if it truly bombs and I just wasted months on this for no reason? What if no one (agent/publisher) wants it? What if the agent/publisher thinks it's a pile of horse manure? So many what ifs... I think we creative folk are our own worst enemy. We believe no one. I mean “what if” they (beta readers) are just saying it’s good to be nice. What if they just don’t want to hurt my feelings.

My feared, lurking shadows are the nasty "what if's". It is because of these dark shadows that I sit with two books unedited, a third WIP started and two story ideas nestled and waiting for their time to shine. These creative sparks are my light - I know it. I judge myself to harshly and I shouldn’t. I should believe in myself more, in my light, and my right to shine. I am deserving. I am great. The fear rises up and I do battle with it. I believe in myself and my writing. Never fear the shadows I say.

There is never a need to fear the darkness, when you know the power of your own light. - Dorothy Mendoza Row

Amazing Contest

2011-03-30T23:13:00.007-04:00

Shelley Watters' blog, Is It Hot in Here Or Is It This Book?, is hosting an amazing blogfest/contest. The grand prize is a full manuscript request from Suzie Townsend of Fine Print Literary Management and I can tell you right now, this lady is awesome to follow online. All you have to do is come up with a log line and use no more than 140 characters to describe your story/ms. Sounds hard but worth it. The thought of winning and having Suzie read my story REMEMBRANCE - sigh - ok, I'm off to work on the log line.

The contest starts April 1st. Go to Shelley's blog and sign up.

Uh, why you still here...Shelly and Suzie are waiting.

Edits & New Avalon

2011-03-20T17:43:00.006-04:00

Going to try and keep up with this blog and start posting more frequently; even it its a rehash of the days events. Today was uneventful. Like chewing bubblegum. Same ol, same ol. I did not edit on Remembrance yet, I say yet because I do intend on editing later on for at least an hour. I can do something with it in one hour.

In any event I slept in, did laundry, picked up lil chick from her dads, took the girls out for dinner, now having coffee and contemplating on which story to work on. Decisions, decisions. Anyways, decided to post the opener to New Avalon here. So when I mention it you'll have something to go oh yeah that story. Uh huh.

I think I'm going to go get another cuppa of joe and have a nice chat with Aiden, and if he doesn't want to talk, well I'll leave a gap in his story part and move forward. I still have to fix the dialog between Ari and Owen, Vaz and Ari. Hmmmm so I guess I've answered my own question --- I'm editing Remembrance tonight.

I think I have to set a goal. Let's see 21 days to remove 20,000 words and clean up the story. That's doable right? OK...Stop shaking your head no..it's doable, really. Well I'm going to try it.

Perhaps with a time-table Aiden "might" talk. Yeah right. I can hear his chuckle now, and see him rolling his eyes. Not boding well. Anyways, enjoy the excerpt. I'm off to edit. Wish me luck - Aiden's laughing and conspiring with Vaz - this is not good - really not good.

NEW AVALON
Excerpt
©2010 by S.A. Hussey
Not to be posted or reprinted without permission of the author.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Journal Entry:
February 1994 ~ After Midnight - The Sphere

My radio had been blasting out Zeppelin music as I made the drive over the Salem/Beverly Bridge. I sang and my hands tapped the steering wheel in rhythm to the beat. My jeep chugged along as I neared the bottom of the bridge. I maneuvered the car into the right lane and travelled down route 1A, or as us locals call it, Bridge Street. Nearing my turn onto Winter Street, I had noticed the streetlight up ahead was green then it turned yellow then red then back to green, all within seconds. It did this twice more then stopped.

That’s when IT happened.

Everything around me had gone black. Immediately I had thought, power outage. A transformer must’ve blown somewhere. Shit! Thank you National Grid, now get the power back on. I continued to drive on but noticed no other cars and no people milling about, which was odd for a Friday night in Salem, Massachusetts. Right then I realized something else, the music had stopped playing. Every preset button I pushed on the radio had nothing but static coming over the air waves. It was eerie - scary eerie. The only thing moving in the dark was my car. And, of course IT; the massive, swirling white matter that hurtled up from out of nowhere, blanketing me and was reaching upward for the stars.

When it happened, I stopped and had parked the jeep smack dab right in the middle of Bridge Street. That’s also when I felt the vibration. At first I thought, holy shit earthquake. Then I realized it wasn’t the road shaking – it was me! I couldn’t stop. The vibration was internal. An intense, continuous energy coursed through every part of my body making me feel as if I could shoot to the moon and beyond. There was a buzzing sound in my ear too. You know the kind, like when a bee passes to close to your ear, or the sound a hummingbird makes as it whizzes past. That’s what was needling into my brain. Neither would stop, in fact it was getting worse.

Between the mind-numbing buzz and the adrenaline pushing energy, I thought my body was going to explode. IT was intense. I got out of the car and in the darkness I saw my body glowing. My aura was a myriad of shades ending with a blue tinged white. The glowing concerned me but I was shocked by the fact that I was buzzing and charged with much energy. Right then I was the epitome of a human lightning bolt. If I had touched something right then, they’d be electrified or burnt for sure.

The sensations running through my body at that moment were like none I’d ever felt. First, there had been the fire within me. A consuming heat so intense it threatened to set me aflame. Then there was the warm coolness of a turbulent wind, like an angry vortex was spiraling out of control inside me. It shook my body in an uncontrolled fit then immediately stopped to be replaced by an intense dryness and heaviness. I felt like dirt and sand was filling my body, as though I was an over-filled hourglass with my time running out. When it reached into my lungs I began to cough and sputter; I was suffocating, but on what? That sensation was immediately replaced by a sense of liquid rushing through my veins. My blood seemed to thin to water. When I moved I could hear the sloshing within. The fluid was pulsating through me like a shower head on high. I fell to my knees on the ground and begged for whatever it was to stop.

Oh, please. Someone, anyone…make it stop.

IT did.

Ask and you will receive. It was odd, I thought. I still felt the energy and vibratory hum, but it was soft now, tolerable. I looked myself over and found I was still intact but filled with immense peace. A sense of love, unity and oneness with the world enveloped me. I smiled. My senses became sharp and crisp. Right then, it seemed as if the universe had kissed me on my third eye, opening it to see the world in front of me but in a whole new way.

The tree on the corner was no longer just a tree but an entity. A living, breathing species that would tell you its tales if you stopped to listen, and I did. I heard its whispers. The majestic oak was happy, as was the elm, and the willow. They conversed. And, I could hear them!

“Welcome home,” they said in unison.

I paused. I wasn’t home yet. Unconcerned by my pause or thoughts they moved their wondrous branches to and fro as they giggled and laughed happily. I sniffed as the acrid smell of smoke and incense wafted through the air. Familiar smells to my awakening senses, but where was it coming from? I looked up to see if I could see the smoke, but instead what greeted my eyes was some kind of spectral field. Almost unperceivable to the eye but yet, I could see it. A clear film of sorts, that arched high and as far into the darkness of the night sky as I could see. It reminded me of a liquid bubble. Iridescent yet, around its outer edge was a white-blue that shimmered. An energy field. I felt its vibration and hum. Boy had I felt it. I gazed up in wonderment - I was baffled.

What was IT?

I've got nothing

2011-03-19T21:57:00.003-04:00

Well, not entirely nothing. I do have two books written waiting to be edited (3 if you count that story I wrote way back when). I also have the WIP of New Avalon. So, I do have something but...I have a whole of nothing going on.

I should be editing Remembrance, seriously since I gave up 2 years writing it - you'd think I'd be more motivated to get it done, out the door and into an agent's hands. It's not that I don't want that to happen, it's just that well...I got nothing. I pick up the printed version, read some, fix a couple of typo's then stare blankly. I have no idea what to do, well I do but I've got nothing. Aiden refuses to talk, and since I'm editing in linear fashion if he doesn't talk and tell me his story well... nothing happens.

So I put it aside, and go to my NaNo story, Seren's Angel. I love this story the way it is but know that I have to add wordage if I ever want to see it go anywhere, but every time I look at the printed or computerized story - I've got nothing, and it's disheartening.

I decided to write a new tale so when I had nothing on the others I could still write, use the creative noggin. I am so loving this new story and where it's going but I stopped on that as well. Oh I have creative ideas and words spinning in my head for New Avalon, but when I sit down...I get a case of the editing guilts, and it stilts the creative flow, crimps the mojo and makes my muse shake her head and run for the hills.

So lets recap. I have a character that won't speak, another story that needs more than I can give right now, and a WIP begging to be written but a case of the guilts shreds the desire. Hmmm yep that sums it up.

I spose I have to bite the bullet and kick Aiden's ass. Skip over him - maybe give more wordage to Tiernan - make Aiden jealous (and he's easily made jealous). I have to do something, anything...cuz I need more than what I have right now which is... nothing.

You Show Me Yours, I'll Show You Mine Blogfest

2011-01-03T17:39:00.009-05:00

Feywriter posted about this Blogfest: You Show Me Yours I’ll Show You Mine on her Facebook. I thought it would be fun to join in. I haven't touched my NaNoWriMo Project since I finished it, it will be fun to read others excerpts. Thank you Summer Frey for doing this.

The following excerpt is James' rememberance of the night when Seren came; saving his miserable existence called life.

SEREN'S ANGEL
Excerpt: Chapter 6

James had been ten-years-old and hiding in the closet. The man, that piece of shit father of his, had come home drunk again. The yelling and screaming had started in the kitchen and ended with his mother crying. God how he hated to hear her cry. It made him sick. Sick and angry. Then he heard the footsteps coming up the stairs, and his momma crying out, ‘no don’t hurt him’. He heard a sickening thud then thumping, like something falling. He had squeezed his eyes shut, tightened his body harder in a ball and pushed himself as far as he could get into the dark recesses of the closet. But, that hadn’t stopped the man.

When he opened the closet, the light came in and exposed him. The man grabbed his foot and yanked him out of the closet screaming and crying. James hadn’t done anything to warrant the beating but it came anyways, like they always did, in one ferocious tidal wave. The man beat him for crying, for screaming, for kicking, for being a momma’s boy, a wimp, a pussy. Every pummel from the man made the world darker and scarier. When his foot connected with the man’s shin in a valiant attempt to stop him, the man picked him up and threw him across the room were he landed in a heap on top of the wide bureau. A mirror hung on the wall over it and his body had connected, shattering it. He had heard a loud snapping sound when his leg hit the hard wood. He lay there staring at his reflection in the mirror. Was that him; that bloodied, beaten, swollen-face, haunted-eyed boy?

He saw the man storming across the room but he couldn’t lift his arm to protect himself. When the man stood over him he glowered. “See now; look what you made me do?” James thought that a funny comment and had laughed. It was the most sickening sound; a gurgling wheeze then the blood had come out of his mouth. James closed his eyes. The man picked him up and threw him over to the bed. The last thing he remembered as he sailed in the air was of flying. He was flying, he felt free. There was no pain just a bright light which he desperately soared to reach, but something weird happened, the light disappeared, and he felt like he hit a brick wall. When he opened his eyes, he was on the bed and there were people working on him telling him he was going to be ok.

Then he heard the voice. A perfect voice if he had ever heard one. It was Seren’s voice inside him, telling him to fight, to live. He would help him. James believed him, and Seren had. He helped him get through every day, the courthouse, the foster homes, torments from the other kids, the fights. He got him this far. He owed Seren one free night of no booze and drugs. Well, at least until he heard what he had to say.

I did it!

2010-12-01T19:49:00.012-05:00

November 1st saw me winding down the NaNoWriMo road. I was full of hope, inspiration, and the promise of a shiny 50,000 word rough draft on December 1st. With the help of Feywriter and her challenge I did well the first two days. Then, I fell off the wagon, but I got right back on that following weekend - still on target. Somewhere between the end of week 2 and week 3 I started losing focus and drive. Numerous thoughts floated through my brain; am I done yet, why is this so stinking hard, I've been at this for hours and all I have is 700 words...are you kidding me? I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel and thought I was a goner. Mary (Feywriter) sent up a challenge and we nudged each other again. It was just the push (shove) I needed. I got back in the saddle each day and pushed out more words than ever before. My count was climbing and the end was near...I saw the proverbial purple bar with the word WINNER on it. I wanted it. I had to have that under my name. So I pushed myself harder than ever on Black Friday and then Saturday to get the last of my word count out and I DID IT!!! Happy Dance and a cha cha line with my youngest around the house. I got a high five and an AWESOME MOM. That felt good and warmed the cockles of my heart. My lil one was proud of me. :-)

There is no monetary gain by participating in the NaNo's, but I did gain a lot by participating. I learned to shut my darn internal editor off, and with perservance (and a lot of perspiration) I can reach my goals. I sat down every day (well I tried too) and noticed that I was able to put more words on the page each day. Then of course there's the bragging rights. :-) Not too many people can say they wrote 50,000 words in 30 days, right? I did - yeah me!

My WIP needs work, I'll admit it. When all was said and done, I knew it would. Honestly, I thought it would be a mess, but it's not as bad as I feared. Hard to believe that one comment to longhairedfool at that diner 3 years ago about that little boy would turn into what it has now become--a story.

I feel great - hopeful. If the NaNo has taught me but one thing, that would be persistance. With this newfound persistance and tenacity in my writing I move forward. I have 3 other stories waiting to be written but I need to edit these last two stories - REMEMBRANCE and SEREN'S ANGEL in the hopes of someday seeing them on the bookshelves (and in people's hands).

I won't give up. I'm determined.

SEREN'S ANGEL

2010-11-03T19:16:00.002-04:00

LOGLINE:

Emma’s precognition, telepathy and clairvoyance skills help her find the man of her dreams; her twin soul mate, James. Unfortunately, he has another soul spirit living inside him. It needs to be freed. The fate of this soul’s existence rests in their hands. To free it is the ultimate act, and Emma doesn’t like it one bit – James will have to die.

In a Word

2010-11-01T23:28:00.003-04:00

November 1st

Word Count Goal: 1650
Word Count total: 3305

NaNoWriMo started at the stroke of midnight last night. Unfortunately I was tucked in bed fast asleep. Got a late start but I surpassed my goal with Feywriters help. I challenged her to do 2200 words then that became a challenge to reach 3200. We both did it. YAY us!

I'm loving how the story is taking shape. I had an outline, chapter breakdown into pararaph formats of what I wanted to do. For the most part I stayed true to the chapter breakdown cept for 1 part where Emma and Percy needed to kabitz. But I'm now back on track and loving my story. I hope I can keep it up and my characters keep talking.

Tomorrow's count won't be as high. I know this going into the day. I have a concert I'm going to but I'm going to try and squeeze some words in throughout the day. My goal is to reach 1,000 words so I don't fall behind.

I feel great and happy we both surpassed our goals on Day 1. Thank you Feywriter.

****************************************************************************

Excerpt: Seren's Angel: Emma and Percy meet

Emma turned her head quickly towards the sound but saw no one. “Who’s there?” Silence. No buzz from the spirits, chirping birds or even the sound of the wind was there. It was as if no sound existed. Emma clenched her teeth. Was she imagining this? A voice had spoken. She stood up to get a better look at the cemetery. She didn’t want to be found until she was gone. If someone was nearby… “Hello,’ she asked. Still no response or sounds. With a shrug, she sat back down and picked up the blade, placing it against her neck. One quick rip against the jugular and within minutes she’d be gone. One, two…she pressed the steel tip into her skin and winced.

“Are you sure you want to do that?”

Emma brought the blade down and looked around. Annoyed she searched the cemetery again only this time she spied a man dressed in black leaning against the willow tree that she had sat by earlier. Where did he come from? She blinked. He was still there, staring and smiling at her. Who are you? And why do you care, she thought casting the man an angry glance.

“I care a lot about you Emma.” He pushed off the tree and walked towards her. When he neared he bowed in umbrage then stood upright and smiled.

How does he know me, she wondered? He didn’t frighten her. In fact she was curious as she looked up at his crystal blue eyes? They seemed to shimmer in the fading sunlight, she noticed. He looked human but yet, he felt like the spirit shadows did. They shared a disconnect to the environment around them – there but not there. This man had the same essence about him but yet he was flesh and blood. Was it possible?

“Yes. It’s possible.”

With mouth agape she stared at him in wonderment then whispered. “You can hear my thoughts.” His broad grin gave her his answer. “Who are you?”

“My name is Percival but you can call me Percy.”

“Let me rephrase that. What are you,” Emma asked.

“Exactly what you thought - a spirit in human form. I am a go-between, an angel in the shape of a human. Why a human form you wonder?” He grinned. “Most humans deal better speaking to another human when they’re in trouble. And you…” His eyes glanced down at the knife in her hand then back to her face. “My dear, appear to be in trouble.”

"Go away. I don’t need a go-between for the here and now. I’m tired." Emma looked down at the knife.

"We all get tired from time to time. You are now, and need to remain here."

Emma snorted. “Really. Why? Nobody cares about me. I’m the freak. My momma was the only one who cared, and she’s gone. I tried. I’ve really tried to live in this crazy world, but there’s nothing here for me. Look at me. I’m sitting in a cemetery because it’s the only place I belong, the only place where I comfortable and where I am accepted.” She paused and waited for the angel to say something, but he stood with a smile on his face. Why is he smiling? She frowned. “You know you’re not a very good angel.”

"Really. Why’s that?"

Emma took a deep breath, blew out her frustration then waved her hand in the air. “Seriously. You’re an angel. Aren’t you supposed to be telling me that I have something to live for. That I don’t need that knife. My momma wouldn’t want me to do this. “ Pausing, she sent him a nasty glance and turned away. “Go away Percy. Leave me alone.”

“Emma. Look at me.” He repeated his words and she turned around. “I can tell you those things but you already know this. You know right from wrong. Your momma brought you up well. You’re fighting your own demon. I’m here to help one way or the other, I am here.”

“Percy, you’re not helping.” She saw him smiling again. “Stop smiling.” Emma paced as she thought, what the hell is wrong with this angel. Aren’t they supposed to help? Just like the universe to send her a crazy angel. Bad enough I have visions, talk to the dead and hear others thoughts, now I have a go-between angel who does nothing but smile like the Cheshire cat. All she wanted was to see her momma. She needed advice. People were getting crazier, her visions showed the world in chaos. Emma stopped and rubbed her hands softly over her mother’s headstone. She closed her eyes and called out in her mind. Momma, please. I need help. I don’t know where…I don’t fit in. What do I do?

“She won’t answer Emma,” Percy whispered to Emma. “Her spirit has moved onward in the next phase of her journey.” Emma looked at him, her eyes filling with tears. He floated towards her then laid his hand over the one touching the stone. “Emma your mother was a beautiful light. She gave you all that she could give. She taught you well and helped you with your gifts. Remember these things as you make your decision, but also remember that nothing is without consequence. If you leave now without fighting, without really trying then you have failed and will come back to struggle all the more, to learn.”

“I have tried…”

“You have not tried to live. You haven’t even begun. What I do see is someone trying hard to die. Life is hard, but it is also beautiful and magical if you see it through your heart. It is you Emma, who see yourself as a freak. You are the one who can control this but you choose not too. You’ve been in a cocoon for so long you don’t know how to break free and fly.” Percy placed both hands on her shoulders then turned her to face him. “Emma, you have amazing, beautiful wings. Break free of the cocoon, fly and see the beauty of life through your heart. You have so much to give, your gifts are special. They are not given out lightly. You know when to use them, and yes, they can be scary at times because most don’t have them. You feel alone but my dear you are not alone, you have him.” He smiled as she stared upwards at him. “You know what and who I am talking about.”

Everything Percy said was true. She was fighting hard to die because living was painful, hard and scary. The future to come…was unknown for her, except for him. Him, the man who has no name, but connected to her in a way she didn’t understand. He frightened her. Who was he? She could never understand this one bit of her future. Momma always smiled, shook her head with a thoughtful, knowing look but never enlightened her. All she ever said was, ‘when you see him outside your vision dreams, you will know’; it was cryptic, like him. She’d been having more dreams of him lately and she didn’t understand her feelings.

“Who is he Percy?”

“I cannot tell. He is known only to you. But, he is real, and waiting. You’re having more visions of him because he is calling. You know this and you’re afraid. Afraid to live.” He looked again into her eyes. “Emma, don’t fight life. Live it, embrace it. Don’t live it here amongst the dead. Say goodbye and give life everything you have. Make it special, beautiful and find the magic. It’s there. Faith, hope and love. You have that, it’s in you. You want to believe, therefore it is." Percy turned Emma to face the headstone. "That is not a home, she is not there. Your momma is doing what she wants you to do.”

“What is that,” Emma whispered rubbing the headstone.

“Fly.”

Emma turned around but Percy had gone. She looked back then knelt down at the gravesite and placed a trembling hand on the cold stone. The tears came then. To say goodbye was hard but Percy was right, her momma wasn’t here and she wouldn’t want her daughter to live with the ghosts. She had to live. If there was one thing momma taught her, it was to live. The world is a scary place and she was afraid, but she would give it her all, she had too. “Momma I’m leaving now. I don’t know how, but I’m going to learn how to fly and I’m going to soar. Goodbye momma. I love you. Merry meet.”

Then the tiniest of moments caught her eye. A lone pink petal had come loose from one of the buds she had laid on the ground. Emma watched as the petal rolled and tumbled around then lifted slightly in the wind only to fall. It was tossed around some more, lifted then dropped over and over again. She watched its struggle as it tried to find its place within the soft winds Then it happened, the petal found its way. It was lifted upwards then carried higher and father away until it was lost from her vision. She understood and smiled. It was time to fly.

Am I crazy?

2010-10-03T10:40:00.002-04:00

I must be. I entered the 2010 NaNoWriMo's 50,000 words in 30 days starting November 1st. Insane, isn't it? That's approximately 1600+ words daily for 30 days. Piece a cake right? Well, given that I work 5 days a week, have 2 children and 2 pets to take care of, there's a holiday in November...umm, no pressure.

Why would you enter, you ask? Well, at the time I hadn't calculated out how many words a day I needed to do and it sounded fun. LOL Honestly, I entered because I feel strongly about the story I've been plotting and I felt the NaNo's would give me the push I need to get the rough draft done. REMEMBRANCE took me 2 years to write and is still waiting for my editing. I'll admit, I laxed off on that story more often than naught and thank heavens I had great friends who pushed (whipped) me right to the very end.

I can be a procrastinator at times and I know what pushes me. Also, I don't want to bother my friends with another story (well at least until I have a finished product-ha). Knowing I have a deadline to meet and a wonderful story to create is the push I need. I figure either way I win. If I meet the goal - Fantastic - I get my lovely NaNo parting gifts and a 50,000 word rough draft. If I don't meet the goal...then I have something more than I started with on November 1st.

What I hope to learn from this experience is to just write. By that I mean, to stop editing while I'm doing the rough draft. It slows me down trying to perfect a sentence. I stop when I need to look something up (research); these things break the creative flow. I need to make highlighted comments and learn to go back later. Since the NaNo's are all about just writing, writing, writing, it's my goal to do just that. I feel good, so far, about this.

October is my month to prepare. I've been outlining, plotting, creating character assessments, and interviewing my characters. Trust me when I say they're talking. Emma, James and Seren have been letting me know how they want their story told. Though, if James keeps changing his tune...I may have to fix his sorry arse. (I'm the writer I can do that-HA) It's been very interesting. Damn them though-they won't tell me the end. They say it's a surprise. LOL

It's fun preparing for the big day. A large part of me wants to start now but the rules state no actual writing until 11-1-2010. I did create a prologue for this story awhile back but had to stop the story when I hurt my hand. Now that my hand is just about back, well...it is time! The prologue and its word count will not be used for the NaNo's. I tend to write prologues to see if the story works for me. I have approximately 3-4 prologues sitting around, along with my, What if..." folder. Prologues are my jumping pads to the actual story and this one rocks (if I do say so myself).

November will be a tough month but if I can stay true to my Chapter outlines I know I can do this thing. I have to unplug from the internet and just do it - WRITE, WRITE, WRITE. I need to make SEREN'S ANGEL a reality.

Wish me luck, heaven knows I'm going to need it.

Friday the 13th

2010-08-13T19:34:00.003-04:00

Muwahahahahaha (insert sinister laugh)

Has anyone else felt like this has been a week from hell. Starting it off I hurt my right hand. Fantastic, in that its not broken, but awful in that its my dominant hand and I can't do anything with it. As a writer and a person who makes a living being able to type...well, this is not a good thing. It's getting better - still stiff, still has the lump, swelling and bruise, but in time I'm assured this will pass. Must do my exercises, which is to hen-peck the keyboard to get the muscles moving again. So much for my 90 wpm speed, huh? All this because I knocked a fan onto my hand. (gah)

Its been slow going on the story. I tried using a dictaphone but I can't seem to make myself speak into the darn thing and make it sound like a story. Why? My doctor's make it seem so easy to use. I guess with time and practice I will get used to using it (probably about the time my hand is doing better). I did do some outlining on my new story last night (hand therapy). Can't keep a good writer down. LOL

I haven't been able to do anything in the house. All my grand plans for cleaning child's room and fall cleaning while she was away didn't pan out. I was lucky to get the pigs cage and cat litter pan clean and that was only with help (thanks Rob-I owe U).

Back to work already which is probably a good thing as daytime tv is brutal. When you find yourself yelling at the imbeciles on Contestant Row and the Showcase Showdown and have watched repeats of movies on the Lifetime Channel... it's time! I did however find a great show on at 4pm on the BBC channel some talk show - Funny stuff that was. I wonder if I can switch my hours at work. Hmmmm

Well hand therapy is over (for now) - I need to attempt dishes. Have run out of all coffee mugs and this is disastrous. I need coffee cups. :-)

So WIP it...WIP it good!

2010-08-05T23:03:00.006-04:00

Well, I finished the rough draft of REMEMBRANCE. Yay me! It was an exhilirating moment to say the least. I did the happy dance for the remainder of the day and the next. Then the let-down came. I began editing. No happy dance then, it was more like - drag my feet and plunk my sorry butt into the chair and edit. It wasn't a pretty sight.

I had been given some critique's which informed me my POV was off. Excuse moi. My POV...off? How could that be? My baby was beautiful - don't tell me it has flaws and needs major surgery. I was still very much wrapped up in the rapture of it being done - how could I possibly dismantle something so wonderfully delectable. :-) But, they were right. I knew when I wrote the story it was a rough draft and that the editing process was NOT going to be fun. (Hmmm even though writing is supposed to be fun - isn't that what creating this story was all about?) Anyways, I decided to take a break from REMEMBRANCE and editing. Clear my head and step away from Ari, Aiden, Teiran and the cast of characters that were screaming - NOooooo - don't touch us, leave us alone. We're beautiful remember?

So now, I am working on another story. Well, two stories...ok three but I'm not counting - it's just these pesky voices in my head keep telling me...OK they are all begging me to tell their story. So I'm outlining them, writing up character assessments and did prologues to see which one feels right. Hopefully I'll figure it out.

Stellar Day

2010-06-17T23:00:00.005-04:00

Oh what a night...and day. I feel so accomplished. Everything I set out to do today I actually did. Yeah me! And now look - icing on the cake, I'm blogging.

I've done some shopping for my daughter's party, finalized the menu for said party, ordered cake, baloons, etc. Did some laundry, have lil one's bag almost all set for her week in Florida, actually ate breakfast and dinner and not just coffee. I trashed my old query and rewrote a new one thanks to the great help of Jodi Meadows and her query crit. I finished Chapter 44, one more to go and then I'm in the editing trenches. I'm actually looking forward to it - one step closer and a little each day.

I feel awesome. Tomorrow it's food shopping and cleaning (not fun but it has to be done) and maybe just maybe I can start 45. (Squee!)

Puddle Jumpers

2010-05-22T14:24:00.007-04:00

©2010 by S.A. Hussey
Not to be posted or reprinted without permission of the author.

“Rain, rain, go away. Come again some other day.” It was a lilting song the two young girl’s half sang-half chanted as they skipped through the wet field by the elementary school. A slight mist fell but their mother’s dressed them in red and yellow knee-high puddle boots and matching rain jackets as if they almost expected the young girls to get caught in a downpour. The girls giggled as they held hands and merrily continued their sing-song that is until they came to the fence that separated the school from the woods. Both girls stopped.

“What do ya think?” Amy asked smiling mischievously at her friend. “You want to go check it out?”

Lily stared into the dark woods and her stomach did nervous little flip flops at the thought of going in there. It was against the rules, everybody knew that. Bad things happened in there. Children would go in but never came out. At least that’s what Marty the fifth grader had told them when Amy asked why no one ever played in there. Marty was the bravest boy she knew and even he didn’t go in there. She looked at her friend Amy and shook her head no. “I’m not going in there. You know what happens and besides it’s against the rules.”

“Rules schmooze. I don’t believe what they say anyways. It’s just a story the grown-ups told kids to ruin our fun,” Amy said as she climbed over the fence. “Come with me. We’ll just go check it out. We won’t go near it or anything.”

“Amy come on…get back over here, if anyone sees you we’ll get in big trouble.” She watched as Amy started tromping into the woods. “Amy. Please,” she pleaded as she looked around to see if anyone saw her go in.

“You know what Lily, you’re a chicken. Bwak bwak.”

“Am not. I just…I just,” she stopped and looked down at her feet. The tears were welling up inside. Everyone made fun of her and now her one and only friend was too. Perhaps she should just go with Amy, prove to her and everyone that she wasn’t a chicken. Maybe Amy was right. Adults were always making stuff up to keep them from having fun. She looked at her friend leaning against the tree. Amy was new to the area and she liked her. They were bestest friends and didn’t bestest friends do everything together. “Hold up, I’ll go with you.”

~ ~ ~

The woods weren’t that big. It was just an area on a small hill covered with trees. The place they were looking for was located just at the incline of the hill, about a five minute walk from the fence they had just climbed over. Lily hoped they wouldn’t find it; that it was just like Amy said, ‘a made up story’. But when they reached the area where the hill started Lily stopped short and her mouth dropped open. No, the story couldn’t possibly be true.

“Amy let’s go back now.” The pancakes and bacon she had for breakfast were churning in her nervous stomach. She tugged on Amy’s jacket and gave her a pleading look. “Please. Let’s go back.”

“In a minute, I want to check this thing out.” Amy walked towards the hill’s incline but her eyes were fixed on the ground ahead of her. “It’s not much to look at. I expected it to be bigger.”

“Come on…let’s go.” Her stomach really hurt now. Why did she come with her, Lily wondered? Oh yeah-bestest friends. They were going to be in serious trouble. “I’m leaving.”

“So leave then you big baby.” Amy retorted.

Lily was afraid, part of her wanted to stay for her friend but the other half…she swallowed hard as she looked at the glistening black spot on the ground. If she left now she could make it back to school and no one would be the wiser. If Amy wanted to make fun of her like the rest of them did, then let her. She wasn’t about to become another name added to the list of missing children. “I’m leaving,” she said again. Amy didn’t even answer her; she was too busy staring at the spot. When she watched her friend pick up the small rock, she turned and ran. It was a cowardly thing to do but her nervousness got the best of her stomach. She was going to throw up and she didn’t want to do that in front of her friend.

Amy stared hypnotically at the spot. She was fascinated. How could something so small do what everyone said it did? With a quick toss, the rock she had just held in her hand, landed in the middle of the spot. Small ripples danced across its dark surface. The rock protruded out of the inky blackness. Breaking a branch off a nearby tree she moved in closer to the spot. Crouched low, she moved the branch over the black liquid then up and down. A smile crept over her face then she laughed. Stupid kids and their made-up stories, it’s just a puddle. Idiots, wait til she told Lily it was just a dumb story. A puddle, she thought giggling. It’s going to eat me. Yeah right.

It was big enough for her to stand in if she wanted to, and judging by the protruding rock she threw on it – the water would only come up to her ankles. So how would it eat her? What did Marty say? Oh yeah ‘that all the kids jumped over it and the spot ate them’. Ok Marty, I’ll prove you wrong, she thought backing up a foot. It’s a stupid puddle. How’s it going to do that? She ran and jumped over it. Turning around she snickered. Marty is so dumb. Running again she jumped over it and landed on the other side. Yep the story is lame, just what she thought. Ok one more puddle jump and then it’s off to school. She took two steps then turned around and ran without thinking. Had she stopped before running she would’ve seen that the puddle had grown much bigger and the protruding rock she had thrown earlier had now disappeared - like she did when she landed in the middle of the inky blackness just as the puddle came alive and swallowed her whole.

Ferryman

2010-05-02T15:49:00.003-04:00

Charon gestures,
board the boat of reeds.
Gather up the obolus
dig deep the broken oar
Forever forward,
traipsing the sunless sea.
Drift in murky depths
rough, blackened waters.
Backwards tussle
into the Isle of Sorrows.
Jagged rocks, twist, turn, lost
shroud the labyrinth within
Screams in the oblivion
nothing whispers
Entering weeping bay.
hold tight the soul
Within harrowing's embrace
specters take flight
To dark Shadow delight.

(Unfinished ~ In progress)

Wake me in Spring

2010-05-02T15:47:00.000-04:00

Spinning the web
Out of control
No place to go
Damn it’s too bloody cold.

Step right, then left
One foot outside the door
The wandering heart
Has no place to soar.

The heart of a gypsy
Beats with wanderlust
An eye to the East
Fills now with dust.

Slip into the cocoon
Wrap the blankets tight
Thor is blowing frosty winds
Wake me on Beltane night.

Strung Words

2010-05-02T15:41:00.002-04:00

Ok so I have few poems (?) I put together and had on another blog but I've decided to move them here a few at a time.

The Chameleon

Change baby change
life you rearrange.
In space and time,
your two worlds collide.
Northern seaside; fog settles in.
Western seaside; live in sin.
Doom and gloom your mind erupts,
Mirrors play tricks body is corrupt.
Spinning wheels keep you chained.
Living life in the fast lane.
You run on empty
Smoke induced, euphoric high,
It doesn't seem to matter
What gets you by.
Sounds caress your ears
Fingertips play the tune.
Stories spun and spoken with a laugh
Precious memories held in photographs.
Your sun rises in the East
Your moon sets in the West.
Darkness settles in
but you can never rest.
To the moon
baby and far beyond
How sweet it is
before it's all gone.
Change chameleon change
isn’t life very strange?

Dogs have owners, cats have staff.

2010-04-25T12:08:00.003-04:00

Thousands of years ago, cats were worshipped as gods. Cats have never forgotten this. ~~ Anonymous

Love em … hate em but they’re out there and giving you that “look”. Yeah, you know the look. It’s the one that says I am the greatest lion(ess) that walked the earth and you must cater to my every whim…be afraid-be very afraid. Meow-purrrrrr.

I’ve had a few cats over the years and right now my Queen Sheba (well she thinks she is) has been living with me, her maidservant, for 17 years. Long time for a cat; she’s outlasted 2 husbands, several moves (some to others states), putting up with other imbecile animals (her thinking not mine), endured many kids pawing and grabbing her fluffy tail, as well as changes in food (sale at the grocery store). Still my affectionate lioness has stayed with me (didn’t run away like kitty kitty did all those years ago-lil bitch) and I get “the look” quite often which means she endures me. I translate that to mean she likes me. Right?

Gidget came to me via my sister (who named her) all those years ago as she was moving and her new place didn’t allow pets. Since kitty-kitty ran away (saw later the cat shacked up with a neighbor down the street-guess I wasn’t good enough) my sister thought my daughter needed another. Her highness is part Maine-Coon and domestic long-haired (don’t tell Gidget she’s domestic-oh the horror) and believes she has full run of the house (actually, she probably does). My couch, chairs, bedding, clothes, jackets, etc. etc. all will attest I own a long-haired cat. The queen has stamped her loving mark on me and the children many times over. When I got new furniture and bedding I had to stop and think hmmm how much fur will show on this.

I don’t own a cat; I co-habitate with a feline. No one owns a cat – they own themselves. Their picky and prickly in nature; by this I mean pet me, no don’t...pet me again, (arrgggh glare given from cat) the other way you dimwit, the other way. They saunter to you, you start petting them and then they move away-which is there fun and amusing way to see if you will continue by actually getting up and moving with them.

Don’t get me started on food services. Mine will only eat ocean whitefish flavors – inhales can food like she’ll never see it again. She doesn’t get it very often because well she…can we say “hairball”. I won’t even get into that topic – I’d rather deal with human children sick. Ewww. Swear her highness throws those out of her system at will when she’s mad at me or one of the children.

Speaking of said little beasts, she endures them too. I think she’s highly amused by them (glad someone is). Either that or she's thinking, by way of one of her many looks, if you were my children – SWAP with claws out. She does love the lil minions and they love her. When they sleep out-- it freaks her out -- she meows at their door and gives me one of her “where the hell are they looks”. It’s quite sweet – the queen misses them. Well, it's probably just their laps and there hands rubbing her back she misses but still, it’s sweet that she notices that they aren’t there. When they return she does the cat happy dance which is to run in and out between their feet, until they elicit the scream of, "GIDGET STOP!!!" Yeah queen, stop! I don’t need them to break a bone or anything then I’d have to wait on them.

Her highness, Queen Gidget, only sleeps in high places (back of couch, on chairs. Never on the floor (it’s not good enough). We even bought her a pretty pink bed but like my girls I think she detests that color because she hasn’t slept in it once, even though it has enough catnip on and in it to put her to sleep. Nope, doesn’t work for her - my bed is it. Precisely the top right hand corner. Sometime ago she went from the bottom corner and has now miraculously pushed to the head of the bed. When I tell her to get off I get that look. Lifts up only her head then stares at me, yawns huge (I do not fear the lioness teeth), stares again, blinks and gives me the “oh are you still standing there-get lost woman”. I say, “I’m serious.” Yeah right, claws extract and dig further in the down. "Grrrrrrrr," I growl and the cat… (honest) Smirks. Smirks I tell you. Then I get the look that says, nice try. She then lays head back down and cat naps further.

Cats! Hrumpf... I guess she’s earned the right. I leave her.

Monday...Monday

2010-04-05T09:01:00.006-04:00

Bah-da bah-da-da-da; Bah-da bah-da-da-da
Monday, Monday - Can't trust that day.

Haven't heard that song in quite some time but it's ringing through my head. Stop..STOP I say! Why do random songs like that pop into one's head? Huh? Things that make you go hmmmm.

Just noticed it's been almost a month since I last blogged. I am so bad at keeping current...somedays I feel like a mole. Pop your head up from underground take a look and go Naaaaaaaaaah nope no way! LOL

I have been busy on Remembrance and I'm almost there, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel but (there's always a but) I think I scared my muse. No, really, I think I did. She's used to my laziness, unorganized and unorthodox style of writing and the fact that I actually have an outline written (and typed) right up to the very end, along with a short epilogue and promo for 2nd book and that I've been sitting at the computer daily welllll, I think I scared her. Either that or she's fainted and in shock. I'm not exactly sure which.

I keep looking at my outline, stare at the wall, look at the outline again and nothing, nada, zilch comes. (I met him at the candy store..He turned around and smiled at me....?) My fingers sit patiently waiting for something... anything. Instead of tapping out words on the keyboard I hum songs recorded long before I was ever born. Isn't that fantastic? What a unique gift. I'm so special (shhhh don't tell anyone - Who would I tell? - Stop talking peeps, I'm trying to hear Daydream Believer by the Monkee's).

Ok that song is over...now I have that blasted hum in my ear from listening to the music too loud. LOL You get that hum too, right? Like I was saying I'm not sure where my muse went but she better hurry up back - I have 5 more chapters calling, aching to be finished. I've looked everywhere for her and trust me, she's not in or, on that white wall in front of my computer. Hmmmmm Nope she's not. (Paperback Writer...Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book? It took me years to write, will you take a look?)

Ok so maybe...Eureka! Of course (smacks head). Muse chick could be lurking around going, yeah sure Steph YOU think you have it outlined YOU think you know your end. Mwahahahahahaha...think again my pretty. (my muse can get very sinister - she likes the cookies and candy given to her on the dark side).

The more I think about it-yeah I'm pretty sure that's my muse. I get it now - she doesn't like the organized Stephy. So here's what I'm going to do. I'm putting away the outline and doing what I always do - write away and see what comes; she (my muse) always comes then. It's worth a shot, right?

And, well...if that don't work. A plate of thin mint cookies, Easter candy (jelly beans mmm) and a pot (what am I saying make that 3 pots) of coffee should lure her out of hiding.

Off to write...right after Mack the Knife stops playing.

Calm in the Storm

2010-03-13T18:16:00.004-05:00

It was a dark and stormy night... It is just that. Cold March night with the winds whistling and the rain coming down fast and furious. Not fit for man or beast. I'm thankful it's not snow. This could only mean we have jumped the March mid month hurdle and Spring is around the corner. Tonight we turn the clocks ahead which means more light...YES!!!! This makes me ecstatic as I hate driving at night and having more light at 6pm is well...wonderful.

Soon Spring then Summer and hopefully a completed novel with most edits/rewrites done (wishful thinking for me the procrastinator). Almost there though...there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I should be writing on 37 tonight but I'm tired and my brain is in a fog. Basically, I have nothing. Ayden, Tiernan and Ari are holed up somewhere in the farthest reaches of my creative mind and my muse is relaxing someplace warm and cozy on this frightful night. All is too quiet in the house; one child is with dad for the night and the other is off with friends. Methinks that I need to have noise and chaos around me in order to write; I think my system doesn't know any other way so my characters and muse have gone on hiatus.

Tonight I think I shall just relax with a good friend, food and coffee. Tomorrow is another day...course it's sposed to rain tomorrow but the children will be home so chaos returns.

The Badlands

2010-03-01T22:42:00.001-05:00

From toil and trouble
You were born,
Dirty little cowboy
Hands callous…worn.

Live your days searching
Ride alone
Rough Rider Cowboy
Has no home.

Rough Rider, Rough Rider -- Bring it on
Rough Rider, Rough Rider – Shoot, before the thrill is gone.

Make em beg
Make em plead
Rough Rider stands
While they’re on their knees.

Shake em down
Stand your ground
Rough Rider glares
Before firing the round.

Rough Rider, Rough Rider -- Bring it on
Rough Rider, Rough Rider -- Shoot, before the thrill is gone.

Look at their eyes
Such a big surprise
Rough Rider laughs
Watches you die.

Rough Rider, Rough Rider -- Bring it on
Rough Rider, Rough Rider -- Shoot, before the thrill is gone.

Rough Rider, Rough Rider -- Bring it on
Rough Rider, Rough Rider -- Shoot, before the thrill is gone.

The Sting

2010-02-27T22:15:00.000-05:00

You say this
I say that
Cut to the core
I can’t take this shit anymore
It’s all matter of fact.
No control
It slipped away
To you, you, you…

Not me!

Turned tables
Someday…just wait
Happenchance
Karma, fate
In an instant
Going to come
Get you, you, you…

Not me!

I breathe…
Give up…
Take it away
Slow burn…
Never fear
I’ll still be there
As always...waiting
For you, you, you…

Maybe me.

Kids Say the Darndest Things

2010-02-08T21:31:00.000-05:00

My 9 year old nephew, Matthew, was visiting tonight. Every time I see him he asks me how I am coming along with the book I am writing. Tonight was no different except for the chuckle I got from it.

Matthew says matter-of-fact, "Auntie how's the book coming?"

"I'm doing very good. I just finished Chapter 33," I say with a smile. This elicits a small groan from Matthew as he has already asked at a previous encounter when it will be done and I said hopefully by Chapter 45. I respond to his groan with, "Matthew I'm almost done."

Walking away from me he stops then turns back to face me and says, "Well Auntie, when it's all done some publisher is going to take it and sell it... then ALL of New York will love it and you'll be rich."

With a raised eyebrow I look at my sister, his mother, then look back to Matthew and ask, "All of New York?"

With a straight face he says, "Yeah...cuz you'll be on that list." (Chuckle #1)

I grin and chuckle. "Thank you Matthew." I say to my sister, "geez I'm hoping the whole world loves it."

Matthew pipes up, "Yeah then you'll really be rich and you can buy a big mansion and WE'LL all live there." (Chuckle #2)

Love my godson - he's the greatest self-esteem boost. I'll tell you something else, when all of NEW YORK loves me and I am on that list I'm buying that child something special.

THANK YOU MATTHEW!

2010

2010-01-03T19:16:00.000-05:00

This is it! This is the year that all things will happen. I will blog, I will exercise and shed the unwanted pounds. I will make it to England and Wales. I will finish THE BOOK. I will... so many I will's.

I have 4 major things I want to accomplish in the next year, well I actually want to have them crossed off the list by end of June but I'll take the year if need be.

1. FINISH Remembrance.
2. Exercise regularly. I need to shed the unwanted weight I have gained somehow.
3. Go to England/Wales.
4. Meet Jimmy Page.

It's not a big list as you can see. These are not resolutions, as I always break them. These 4 things are a definite must... #4 might be a bit tough to work out but I am nothing but persistent and if I can do #3 -- well anything is possible. Right?

Oh yes there is a 5th one for the list, quit smoking, but I am hesistant to add it on there. Something about writing, smoking and drinking loads of coffee. I'm not sure I can give that crutch up but I will give it a go. I'm down to the last pack...have my patches and a firing squad (my 2 kids). So we shall see; if it interferes with my writing then...

I do hope to keep up with this blog though - can't believe its been 4 months. It was Summer warmth. Winter - cold wind snow. That's for another blog.

REMEMBRANCE: Coming Soon (I hope)

2009-08-29T11:21:00.000-04:00

With a skeleton key, only I posses, the door was opened. My dreamlike wishes ran amok, dancing and spinning through my mind; into loving, waiting hands that will spin the tale, of the one...

With dark hair that falls gently over high prominent cheekbones. Those ringlets of ebony silk strands fall over hazel colored eyes which stare, penetrating my being. Lips curled in sardonic smile he waits for me to tell his tale of sorcery and love. He licks his full lips slowly, whetting his appetite for what he knows will come from me. His long sculpted fingers push back errant hairs from out of his eyes. On his palm is the star and double crescent moons, deeply ingrained in black ink. His pale skinned hand is held outward to me. He knows it is I who will whisper the words into others ears by the touch of my tiny fingers, spinning the dreams of a long-forgotten reality. He stands waiting, the smile on his face is genuine. "Tell our story", he dares me. "Tell the story of the three, who once held the moon, sun and stars in their magical hands and let it go because of love and betrayal."

Remembrance, is just that - a story of love and betrayal but it is also of friendship and honor tested throughout time. Have you ever met someone and felt an instant connection? Have you ever wondered about your soul mate? How many times have you jokingly said, “we must’ve known each other in a past life?” Perhaps, you have.

Tarrant, Sulien and Arianwen lived, loved and lost in medieval days. They were the chosen three; a lord, a wizard and a witch with combined powers that would rule over medieval Wales; setting the sun and moon in harmony and balance with the lands. Through bitter betrayal it never came to pass - Arianwen was left alone to honor their name. Upon her death she set a spell into motion that was carried out into the auld Norse winds. The gods of fate have returned, breathing life back into that long-forgotten spell. The chosen three: Tiernan, Ayden and Arienh, are back to close the circle. Can they remember all that was in the past and fix the karmic wheel, or will the circle remain broken for all eternity?

Happy June

2009-06-15T21:03:00.000-04:00

Ok so it's June... I forewarned everyone I am awful at keeping a journal. Honestly, I just forgot about this page, I've been busy since getting back from the trip. Which, b/t/w was very fun. I worried over nothing - the family behaved. Only had 1 incident with youngest child, so all in all great fun and would highly recommend a fun in the sun cruise.

I am still working on my story and have made it to Chapter 20 thus far. woo hoo! Me and my crazy life and I am still finding time to write. I promised myself I would work on it each night, whether it was editing or writing, I assured myself I would do that AND I was doing well up until two weeks ago. Health crisis. blah I was so exhausted and feeling cruddy I just could not drag myself to the computer. Someday this brilliant novel will finally reach its end. Someday

Today is my oldest daughter's birthday. She turned 17! Hard to believe 1 more year she will be graduating and then college. waaaah! :-( Exciting times but makes me sad, even though she drives me crazy sometimes - I still find it hard that my baby is all grown up. Happy Birthday Sara!

Well now I blogged - so I feel better. Now I am off to write on the WIP.

A Mindless Rant

2009-04-17T22:49:00.000-04:00

One month since I posted about snow. HA! Today it was 70. Woo hoo us in New England. That was our spring - tomorrow we go back to winter - in 3 weeks we will jump to 85 degree weather. What's that NE saying, "If you don't like the weather in New England, wait a minute." So true.

Ok. I should be writing Chapter 15... it's half written doesn't that count for something. I seriously had every intention on finishing before I leave with my family on the cruise to the Bahama's Monday early morning but I unfortunately stalled out. Had to run to Target and get a new bathing suit and some new clothes cuz somehow I gained 6 pounds over the winter. eeeeeek shudder. Now I knew the cruise was coming, I also knew I gained weight, did I start my exercise program 3 months ago. No... why? I was writing. LOL yeah that's it... I was writing.

I have spent more money this week getting ready for this vacation than I probably will in the bahama's and I haven't even left the state of Massachusetts. Somebody just shoot me now and put me out of my misery. ahhhh never mind that's what the happy hour drinks on the cruise ship are for, right?

When I come back from vacation it's off to the gym. Pics of me in a bathing suit drunk should sooo prompt me to run shrieking to Bally's upon my return.

I'm glad to be out of work for a week, glad to be going away somewhere. Though I wish it was to England or Wales without kids but sun and surf I will take. Tomorrow I get buffed up, manicure, pedicure, waxing , hair. Sunday is packing 3 people up, NAP, double check we have everything, NAP again. Our shuttle to the airport arrives at 3:30am (yes AM) our flight is at 7am. Then it's no phones, no computer, no tv (what the hell am I going to do-- I actually have to spend quality time with the family eeeeeeeeek!!!!!). I shall post the vacation rant upon my return.

Now I'm off to do 4 paragraphs to Chapter 15. I have too, I promised someone I'd finish it before I go. :-)

Snow... snow... and more snow

2009-03-01T12:22:00.000-05:00

God... I hate it. When will it end. They are declaring that in my little pocket of Massachusetts we are going to get upwards, and possibly more, than 15inches of that awful white stuff over the next 2 days. Ok... so I know it's March and I know it's New England but still... March 1st is roaring in like a lion ~ it damn well better go out like a lamb.

I am so looking forward to my cruise to the Bahama's in April. Sun, surf, sun and fun; did I mention SUN!!! I am not a 4 season person. It's not that I don't like winter... well ok I'll admit I don't like winter. There I said it. I hate it in fact! However, I will admit I do like that first light snowfall where everything looks pretty. After that I am done with winter. I hate the cold, I hate driving in the snow and ice. Not much more I can say than that. Winter in New England are just that: cold, windy, snow, ice and freaking COLD!

I guess this would be the perfect opportunity to clean house, fold laundry, play with the child, finish Chapter 11 and write more to my story. I think I'll go back to my new bed, pull the multiple down comforters I have on it over my head and sleep in my cocoon.

Wake me when April 20th arrives.

Auld Ways

2009-02-27T22:37:00.000-05:00

White light flows
around your very being.
Energy surges
crackles in mid-air.
Stop the calling dance
center and stand here.
Head tilting back
palms turned upward
bask in the moons glow.
Feel the pull.
Quench the thirst.
Gather it all down
deep within the soul.
Auld ways beckon.
Call forth... the air.
Balance sent on arrows of light.
From within... bring fire.
Hear the ancient ones shout.
Feel it tremble & shake; scatter, the earth.
The storm has begun.
Brought forth, falling gently, the rains water.
My brothers and sisters,
As above, so below
With thy will, it is done.
So mote it be.

Another

2009-02-27T22:35:00.000-05:00

For Juli..

As Above

Surround me ancient ones,
feel my energy
circle and rise.

Moon goddess,
guide me,
as I re-learn to fly.

I call… Earth
to shift and move the willows
Let their branches bow and dance
as I do before them.

I call… Air
to lift and stream through my dark hair
Let it flow free and wild
untamed like my heart.

I call… Fire
to ignite and burn brightly
Let the flames release white energy
into the depths of my soul.

I call… Water
to shed and fall from dark eyes
Let the past go, be one in the present
breathe the future.

Throughout Ostara eve,
wood nymphs fed the fire,
soft air blew heated embers
into the misty night sky.

Sun god,
watch me,
as I now take flight.

Newbie

2009-02-27T17:43:00.000-05:00

I hate that term... newbie but I guess that's what I am. New to blogging and setting up this account and page. blah. One should never do it while sick. I spose most of this blog will be taken up with my mindless meanderings and what I call poetry. Poetry first... my latest and greatest.

Sacred Sword

Virgin steel offered up from dark mountains
Embraced by dancing flames; licked
Seductively by fiery hot embers
Maintained by a gentle kiss from the
North winds.

On the anvil of truth and knowledge
Spitting sparks fly; repeated ring of
Turning steel pounded flat
By old hands holding the gods hammer.
Glowing steel screams and hisses
As icy spring waters cool its heat.
Return to the dance once more.

Forged steel lays flat, curved,
Sharpened by aged spinning stone.
Silver sheen polished; smooth as crystal
Etching sacred writ spoken in lilting
Tongues by the auld ones.

Braided leather encases the hilt
Awaiting the chosen one.
Sacred sword spins
In the hands of the Lady…
Who waits.

So there it is... This is what I do when there is not enough time to write on my current WIP and when I am procrastinating writing on my current WIP.

Stephy's meanderings... HA!