jennscarbie

Writing.. writing... writing..   I have about five stories in various stages of completion. So, if I can't work on one logically I could on another.  NOT SO! But, I am writing today.  Smut, but hey, if I can finish and sell it, smut shall pay some bills in this household. I am not ashamed to write smut, as long as it's good smut, well written and some that doesn't make you groan and roll your eyes.  Heres to making the good groans only.  *crosses fingers*

Whatever, that is my feelings today.  I have the dont give a damn's.  I don't give a damn if the world blows up tomorrow or tonight. I don't give a damn if I die tonight.  You ever get to the point in your life where you know just positively know its not going to get any better, it will always suck, it will always be this stupid pointless bullshit?  I have reached an epiphany, this is it!  This is the rest of my pointless existence.

What is the point? I am trying to write. Not going to happen, I know it, I can feel it in my bones, I will never be a damned thing better than I am today.  I hate it, but it's true.  Many think differently, but it's what I think that matters. What is true.  I suck, I am a one track, one talent type of writer.  You read one, you've read them all. So, if you see my name in print on a book (I laugh at this bunch of shit) don't bother, it won't be worth the coverprice. 

I write in a loop, with a few friends, and lately I've been noticing that all my characters come second.  It doesn't matter, it does hurt though.  If friends think of my stuff this way, how will total strangers, supposedly not even worried about my feelings going to think? It sucks, there ya go. 

All work and no play makes Jenn a dull bitch.  Perhaps I could become a serial killer, perhaps a hermit, yes, I'd love to be like Sandra Bullock on the Net, never leave my damn house.  Never have to look at people I despise, or answer the phone @ a job I am beginning to loathe with a passion deeper than the abyss in the lowest ocean.   There is no mountain high enough..  and no valley low enough to compete with how low I feel at this one moment.  Perhaps, it's a sign from the hormone fairy, perhaps, joy oh joy, I am actually going through the change, that would be a wonderful thing!

I may not be down for the count after all.   

stay tuned, next week it's Hormonal Havoc at the House of Jenn

or

Menopause Hurts More than it used to.... 

Or

News Bulletin:  Crazy redneck shoots all her coworkers and laughs herself silly.  

By melancholy (is that how you spell it?) ffth I dont care. I don't have to spell it to feel it now do I?  How old do I feel right now? 1000 years at least.  I have the don't cares, don't care if you like it, don't care if you don't. Pah.  I hate to feel this way, I hate to be this way, it only strikes once in a while. I get bitchy, pick apart everything people say and direct it at myself. Even though I know it has nothing to do with me. 

My book  is moving along, I like my characters, I love them they speak into my head if I am at the monitor or not.  Is this wise to live in a fantasy world?  I don't care.  I hate my job, I hate my house, I hate the place I live.  I want to move out of this one horse town and see the world. 

Then again, I am a hermit at heart, so I doubt it will ever happen. Instead I will be the old lady with gray hair and a hundred cats, writing my books, living through my characters where it is safer and I have it all mapped out.  See? I told you I was feeling maudlin, I warned you at the beginning, so you can't whine now.

If you must whine, then bring the cheese along with you, in addition to being grumpy, I am starved.   I prefer artisian cheeses though, so make note of that.

Hello! It is Friday Eve, that is Thursday to the nonFriday worshipers among you.  It's been a tough week for me, glad its almost over.  I did a bit more writing on my Tail of the Wyvern book, I really like my characters. Trying to work on that POV thing as I go along too. 

My new writing class is still fun, despite it becoming a bit harder. I love the challenge of actually thinking for a change. I haven't been in school in years, so there is a novelty in it. 

Hope to work more on at least one or more of my stories this weekend. I have the rough outline for another too, hopefully, I shall get started on it if nothing else, knowing my penchant for the new, Ronin will more than likely be the man on my to write list.  

Buh bye!

I hope this means I will get some writing done. I joined this group on Yahoo that has a published author at the helm. I like her style of teaching. She's very to the point, telling you exactly what to watch out for and beware of. 

Much of this is scary to me to say the least. I do not want to get screwed by some publishing house on my first go at bat.  Even I, on the very outskirts of the writing world know of Dara Joy's woes.  I love her stories and it looks like I will never get Traed's as long as she's in litigation. (sigh and sniff)

So, here I go, another weekend writer staring at my wordprocessor screen.  I hope that I shall write Faelen and Lilly, if they are speaking to me this week.  If not, someone better be.  I have a few that are in the background, I can hear their murmurs, whispers and sighs of exasperation.  I am getting around to it!

Those are the words of a champion procrastinator. I have a black belt in procrastination, folks.  Have a great weekend. 

Sometimes, when you write, you get no feedback.  Feedback, to me at least, is very important. Not a ooh, that was the best thing I have ever read, I don't want a yes man (er woman) but I like to know someone at least thinks I am heading in the right direction.  I am writing on an RP loop I have been a member of for a long time. I slip back into the role of that personna like an old broke down pair of shoes.  And I can run in those shoes when I am stalled on my real WIP's. 

It is like training wheels when you learn to ride a bike. I think it keeps my muse muscles toned. And, most importantly, at least in my mind, the friends I have made on this loop are so dear to me.  We pretty much talk every day, or have a hissy if we don't.  Strange but true, writing partners are like marriage partners, we are all in a group together, writing our stuff like little fiends, so, that's my progress report today. Nothing on the novel, but plenty on my RP.  

Have a good week!!! 

So, today is a day that shall live in infamy.  A long long time ago, in a parish far far way, there was this man.  A very sweet, funny, smart man, let's call him hubby, for safety's sake.  

I am on my computer, writing on a new story (wee) and I hear a knock on my door.  There is one of those little diamond shaped windows on there and the face I see in it, well, let us just say he is looking very happy indeed. 

Hubby has the newest in a long line of action figures (he insists they are NOT dolls, mind you *rolls eyes* yeah, ppfht) he is waving it around and having a fine old time.  It is the new darth vadar doll, (its a doll!)

My husband is white and though this may sound stereotypical, white men cannot dance.  This doesn't prevent him from trying though, with horrendus results. 

New Star Wars figurine and soon to be a new movie. George says its the last, I am sure he is lying like a loon.  He will want to milk more money from that cash cow one day, at least the hubby hopes so.

So, how do you write when you have the ebullient spouse doing the happy doll dance in the living room? You shut the door, and try to ignore him even when he does the take the helmet on and off demo. 

Husband, he is strange, insane, and goofy, but God, I love him. 

Today, I actually went outside. If you know me at all, you are now rolling on the floor gasping in shock.  (waits for you to get back to the monitor) I despise outside.   I believe outside is the reason God (or insert your deity here) invented inside.

It all started so innocently too.  My husband runs into the house with his Fred Sanford, its the big one Elizabeth skit going on screaming the word that puts dread in the hearts of many.  SNAKE!! 

Me, being strange, goes outside to peer upon the poor little frightened reptile.  I get out there and its huge! I mean big, and pissed off.  It also rattles ominously. Well, my hubby wishes to kill it with a garden hoe. That doesn't work.  So, he goes in for the shotgun.  He drops the bullet six times, I take it, load it and he fires, missing of course.  (pfht!)

Well, he only brought out one bullet, ratshot at that. So, as he goes in for more ammo, the snake climbs a tree.  My daughter and I watch with reluctant fascination. It's like the Discovery Channel in our back yard but we miss the narrator's plummy voiceovers.  (cable spoils you for nature, you know). 

My hubby comes pelting out of the house, with bullets in hand.  He gives them and the gun to me and throws up his hands.   I, being a good old country girl, lock, load, and fire! She shoots she scores!  Three out of four direct hits to the poor lil beastie.  However, let it be known this frellin snake was way too close to my daughter's window for my peace of mind.  I am not having him in my house.  So, therefore, he must die. 

I run out of bullets, the snake isn't dead.  My husband is now convinced he wishes to hunt us down and bite us for pissing him off. Is this true? In a freakie strange parallel universe, yeah.  Here, in the good old mundane world, no, not even.  The sneaky snake has made tracks the heck away from my humble abode thinking jeez, humans are all nuts.   All I wanted was some dang bird eggs.  Mmph! *slither slither hiss hiss* 

So, distractions aside, I once again attempt to get upon my literary horse to see where it takes me.  Maybe Lilly and Faelen will speak to me . Or Gilly and Jacob, or even Jenn and Chao.  Who knows where my road leads today?

I am trying a new thing today. I am going offline on my messengers, as I cannot be the quiet one that has discipline enough to work while I have access to my friends.  I have to gab, entertain, giggle etc. 

So, if I am not answering, no worries. I am writing, or trying to do so.  Hopefully your email box will be filled with my drivel (to borrow a word from the Meems) soon.  If not, who knows, I have probably given up and ran off to join the circus. I am sure I could grow a beard, my estrogen is probably at an all time high.  Pre menopause has struck me with a vengence, I fear.

Ta for now from:  Jennbo the snake killin queen or Jenn the Garden Goddess *yeah, built more along gnome lines, shut up!*

Well, once again, I am here, in front of the computer.  Waiting for inspiration to strike.  It's not really happening. I cannot work under the dark cloud of my hubby's anger.  He is angry because I am happy that my daughter left. So, I can write uninterrupted. 

Again with the guilt. I am taking a bit trip tonight.  Doubtful that progress shall be made.   But then again, who knows?

If I can kill de guilty beastie I shall attempt to continue the adventures of Lilly and Faelen.    Right now, she is in this strange magical place with a group of women (I use the term loosely) that are just as bad as any other group of women when they get together.  

Keep your fingers crossed.  I can't cross mine, because then I couldn't type.

There are stories in my head, that beg to be written. I don't know if it's true for others or if I am seriously in need of some therapy.  However, I do know this, one day, I am going to be published, if it kills me. Hopefully it will not take martyrdom to accomplish this. If there must be a sacrifice made, I want to choose the person.  Maybe Britany Spears, Jessica Simpson, or whoever else pisses me off this week (hour?) by being vain, silly, vapid, and shallow.  

I am attempting to get everything down.  But distractions are mounting by the minute.  My daughter begging to go to the movies with *gasp* a boy!  My husband vehemently freaking out as he thinks of this *insert wringing of hands and hair pulling on his part here*

How do you find private time to write. Especially ahem, a romantic scene when constant interrruptions abound?  You can't shut them out without feeling guilty, and yet. If you wish to make a viable living at writing, you have to treat it as a job, right? Right! So no more guilty conscience, I shall shut the world out and write write write! (this includes the silly cat, he is the worse of my literus interruptus problem)

So, hopefully this will help on my journey to the world of publication.  I am just going to wait and see.  Night all.

Trying a little something new, fixing my settings, my daughter complained about it being small.  pooh.