Blue Tendrils of Remnant Memories

And I’m back.

I have returned from my annual eastern vacation. Good times, good times. I visited family and friends. We laughed, drank, and played. I’m proud to say that I am a dominating force in Trivial Pursuit except for “The 90′s” version, apparently I missed the 90′s. Now if I had to (and I don’t but I’m gonna) talk a bit about each of the states I stayed I’d say this

Ohio: oh Ohio, if I were to ask 10 people what the 14th state was maybe 1 or 2 would guess correctly and name you. Is it because you’re so forgettable? Maybe. Not a lot to say about Ohio. I was either driving through a city or farmland. Rather forgettable. Not the company, the company was fantastic and I enjoyed myself, but the drive…eh.

New York: normally Wisconsin gets the most road construction vote, but not this year. Nope. New york wins the most road construction vote. And rerouting a major highway onto a 2 way rural route through a small town was not the smartest of decisions. I actually feel sorry for that poor small town, they now have 6 times the traffic. But that aside a very pretty drive. However the insects are insane there. I don’t know what bit me but I still have the raised bruise like swelling and intense itching a week latter.

Pennsylvania: you have more curves than a Nissan commercial (or Scarlett Johansson, whichever simile you prefer). Seriously, I spent more time driving corners than driving straight. But again, beautiful driving through the Appalachians.

Now every time I crossed state lines I would quiz Korbin. It didn’t go well.


Me: What’s the capital of Ohio?

Korbin: Um…Ohio City?

Me: No, wait what? Did you just say Ohio City?

New York

Me: What’s the capital of New York?

Korbin: New York City

Me: No, but at least it’s a city. What’s the state nickname?

Korbin: It has a nickname? Um…Welcome to New York.

Me: *slams head against steering wheel*


Me:What’s the capital of Pennsylvania, and so help me if you say Pennsylvania City I’m tying you to the roof.

Korbin: Um…Pennsyltonia.

Me: *cries a little for the future of America*

Normally I’d post some pictures but I forgot the bag I had packed with my laptop, camera, recharging cords, and my hypertension medication. Good thing I really don’t need the meds, but the camera would’ve been nice.

Now I’m off to make more memories.


A sun bathed dream

Yeah, happy Summer Solstice! May your day be brighter than my cloud veiled day.

I just finished reading ‘The Ladies of Grace Adieu’ by Susanna Clarke

Ladies of Grace Adieu


It’s a small collection of short stories set in the same world as ‘Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell’ (which is a CRAMAZING novel in and of itself, and is gonna be a TV series on the BBC. I love you BBC!). As with all short story collections, some stories are better than others, but overall this collection was a marvelous read, and with some delicious drawings from Charles Vess no less. The stories are usually tinted with or about magic or fairies in some way. Susanna’s beguiling dialogue often left me thinking of Jane Austin’s ‘Pride and Prejudice’ (yes I’ve read it and loved it. Don’t judge). With each story at or around 30 pages, the book is a quick and satiating read.

And since I’m here I might as well talk about the movie ‘Now You See Me’. This movie blew me away. If you like magic, mysteries, laughs, and cops vs. bad guys kinda movies, then this one is for you. Not sure if it’s on Netflix, but it’s on HBO and you can rent it. It’s worth it, and if it’s not you can yell at me in the comments section.

And now I’m off to enjoy my Summer Solstice with many friends and many more drinks. Mmmmmmmmmm, honey whiskey, will you marry me?

I’m still here (and I hope you are too)

I planned on doing a quick post before disappearing for Memorial weekend, but then I realized if I did  post every time before I disappeared I would have more posts. So this is a reappearing post. I’m back, really it’s me. I don’t think anyone would wanna pretend to be me. At least I hope not, that would be creepy.

I hope everyone had a fantastic Memorial Day. My whole weekend was cramazing (crazy + amazing). Here’s a photo of two of my nieces taking the greatest pleasure in the world beating me with plastic golf clubs.

I'm sorry I took the last cookie

I’m sorry I took the last cookie

And onto something else…

I watched the movie Byzantium this weekend, and I loved it. A slow moving, visually stunning Vampire movie. And thank god, it was nothing like Twillight. This movie was more like “The Hunger”, or another of director Neil Jordan’s movies, “A Company of Wolves” (one of my favourite movies). Byzantium is an artistic marvel and the cinematography paints a masterful fresco. The small cast lends credence to the stories outcast feel. Plus  Gemma Arterton is very easy on the eyes.



And as for the writing front. I’m done working, reworking and editing my current WIP, The Devil’s Playground. Now I need to find an editor to offer their insight on my work. And I need to buy some water colours to start work on the cover. Hmmm, I’ll look into that tomorrow.

An origin story

I’m trying to get at least a post a week. Last weeks post never materialized. It just beat itself into a headache. So this week I thought I’d try to go back to the beginning. Back to why I love writing.

As a kid I went through the normal range of things I wanted to be when I grew up: a fireman, an astronaut, a football player, a football playing astronaut putting out fires on the moon. Then in my teens or so, being a kid who loved reading, drawing, and comic books, I thought I wanted to be a comic book artist.

I thought the easiest way to becoming an artist, especially a comic book artist, was to draw comic books. So I started writing comic books to draw them. After a few years, I found that I had a thousand pages written and 50 pages drawn. That settled it, I’d be a comic book author (and I still want to be, I have a fantastic idea for a comic book, if you’re a comic book editor or publisher, call me).

Then I got married, had kids, and had less time for hobbies. Then came divorce and more free time and I decided, hell, I declared one day that I would write a novel. Years went by, and I realized there was a reason I received  C in English and I started to relearn grammar (still learning it), until eventually my first novel was released. And while Beltaaine isn’t perfect, it’s the best I could do at the time, and I’m learning every day.

That’s me, that’s how I got here and inertia demands that I continue to move on. My next novel is better than the last. I just need to learn to let go and move on. it’s ready and waiting, but can I let it go? Not scared of what people think or how they’d react. Just scared that I can do better.

Swimming in the same fishbowl

Hibernation is over, at least I think I’m awake. marshmallow people leave breadcrumb trails, and I’m firing on all cylinders. At least I think I am, I don’t know much about cylinders.

I wish I could say I ventured into a desert for 40 days and found my self, but I can’t.

I wish I could say I built an ark 300 cubits long by 30 cubits high, but I can’t.

I wish I could say that I figured out Fermat’s last theorem, but I didn’t.

What I did do was…nothing. I didn’t read, much. I didn’t write, much. I didn’t drink, okay, I drank a lot. I’m drinking now, a 40 oz for freedom. But if nothing changed, why should I be here?

Because I can

I can be here. I can blog. And I can type (slowly). So here I am, and I as I do type these words I realize how much I missed this. I’m not the prolific type, nor am I the enlightening type. You won’t find words of wisdom, nor will you find words of wit, but you might find a word, just a small word, a word so small that it alludes you until it smacks you with clarity. No promises here, I only hope to give you one word, a word that I’m not sure of, but a word that you may need though you may not know it. Just one word. That’s all that’s needed to start a revolution. One word.

One word.

How would I describe myself in one word?

Funny. Amazing. Smart. Eccentric. Competitive. I don’t know. One word can’t say it all. One sentence can’t explain me. And yet, we’re asked to describe our works in a paragraph, a blurb. If it can be explained so simply than it isn’t worth knowing or finding. What I do and what I write is more than one feeling or one idea and so much more than one word. I hope you give me the chance to enchant you. My second novel is coming this summer/fall. One word: Fantabulous! One sentence: An amazing journey through belief and what will be. One paragraph, who has time for that? 144 characters or less in our Twitter world. We cater to the ADHD in our drive through world now.

I had and an idea.

I nursed that idea. Fed it. Talked to it. And nurtured it. My idea, my one word, grew into what can only be called a story. Is it a great story? That’s for you to decide, but I guarantee you, you can’t describe it in one word.

Where this post came from is a wonder, but I’m sure that one word started it. Now if I could only find that word and switch it for a word that brings about thoughts of sand and bikinis. Mmmmmmm, bikinis.

Tidbits of the last fortnight

Holiday over. BOO! But at least I had a great time. TONS of golfing in various forms. Copious bouts of laughter. Apparently a game of Trivial Pursuit that no one remembers playing, but I have pictures of us playing (pretty sure I won). And a partridge in a pear tree.

This year I convinced my friends to a weight loss competition, so now I have the proper motivation to lose my little Pooh belly. My starting weight is 99 kg (219lbs), but it’s not how you start, it’s how you finish.

I also read some novellas, and a graphic novel, and a novel whilst on holiday.

travel by night

by Robert Mccammon

A vampire cowboy bounty hunter novella that reads quickly, smoothly, and wonderfully. A vampire chases the vampire that turned him while trying to retain his slipping humanity. A man’s daughter is kidnapped in an effort to lure our protagonist into a trap deep in the swamps of Louisiana. All of this is played flamboyantly on coursing prose.



by John Saul

An absolute creepy terror that just seems too plausible to ward me off from open houses forever. John Saul’s slow dark tone sets this novel in a truly fantastic and realistic read. It’s a story about a murderer that likes to pick his victims at open houses, and he’s found a new open house to attend.



by Emma Meade

Firstly, what a beautiful cover.

Ahhh, another vampire story, this one a bad feeling that becomes reality. Two girls go to a club and only one sees the warning signs. A slow burning fuse simmering between dub-step beats and gleaming teeth.

Emma unleashes characters we all know in a situation we would never want to be in. Nice dialogue, smokey description, and a late Saturday night feel.

saga 1


Holy handbells! HANDBELLS!!!!!!!!

This work is mind-blowingly awesome! Better than awesome!! Sinfully salivating!!!!

Firstly, the artwork is a visual orgasm. The Colours. The Spacing. The Design. All are beyond Feng Shui and a sense of bewilderment rolled into eye popping.

Secondly, the writing is an aural pleasure. It seamlessly sews between present tense and a future-past tense in a whimsical narration that, of course, entertains and builds interest in such a bemaddening way, that I’m banging my head against anything while I wait for volume two.

The story is a fantastic Space Opera. A cross between Star Wars, Romeo and Juliet, and Blade Runner. Sci-fi meets Fantasy meets Love Story meets Mafia. It has it all, and its addictive as all get out.

And now, after my recent new love affair with the T.V. show, Castle, my writing juices are drooling, so I’m off to do my own work.

Lovely lazy days

Yeah, I’m on holiday, which means it’s time for my annual sojourn east again. I’m currently in Ohio, the fourteenth state, and my mother certainly enjoyed my singing to every 80′s song that came on the radio, and all the curse words that my road rage unleashed on unhearing and uncaring drivers sharing the road with me. I’ll be here for another day visiting family and dropping my mother off before I’m off to Pennsylvania to visit friends (the family I chose, you lucky bastards you). I’m very excited since my best friend lives about twenty minutes from Gettysburg and this year marks the 150th anniversary of the battle of Gettysburg. I’ve brought my camera and I promise to take pictures, some of which I hope actually turn out. Then it’s off to our nation’s capitol to pick my son up and then to head back again (my poor mother, with him and me in the car she doesn’t stand a chance against our sarcastic banter). Lovely, lovely holidays.

Hopefully you have as good as a time as I’m going to. I’m told to expect lots of golf, frisbee golf, touristing, eating, drinking, and of course, immeasurable laughter. Why can’t everyday be a holiday?

And now I’m off to read a book, another great part of holidaying. Wheeeeeeeeee, I’m happy to be me

Gravity’s second coming

Hahahahahah, you stupid blinking cursor, I have beaten you now!

Um,………….. Guess I didn’t show up very prepared, oh well, one key stroke at a time.

It’s been a month now that my son has gone galavanting off to his mother’s for the summer, and while that has been great on my grocery, electricity, and water bills, it’s also left my house a lot quieter. Eerily quiet sometimes. It reminds me of when I was 5 or 6 and when it was quiet and dark at night, my mind would wander shadowed veins of self torture. I just knew that someone was coming to steal me. I didn’t know what kidnapping was at the time, but I knew that thieves liked to take other peoples’ valuable things, and what was the most valuable thing in our household? Me, of course (I was an arrogant, egotistical only child at the time, I’m much better now). So I knew people were coming to steal me. I would often wake my parents up and they would take me to each room and show me that there was nobody there to steal me, which would, of course, make me feel better and I could sleep for a little bit (til I heard another noise that would wake me). Now I’m not saying I think that people are trying to kidnap me while my son is away. That would be silly. Or would it? Hmmmmmm…nope, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m just saying that my house can get really quiet sometimes. Creepingly quiet. Brrrrrrr….

So with all this time not blogging, I must be almost done with my current WIP, you say.

Ummmmm, no, sadly no. The framework is all there. I even had a few people Beta read it for me. But while it was gone I worked on a few prequels that I thought would be a nice way to promote the new book, and they (the prequels) brought up some interesting things I hadn’t thought about, and in one case shed some new light on a particular character and made me rethink how said character fits in the story. All of this new information caused my brain to start forming new ideas and fuse them with old ideas which, as of right now, has me tied somewhere in the middle of the old draft with loose little bits of new ideas that just won’t sew in as smoothly to the tapestry as I’d like.

Eh, it happens. I really believe that these new ideas will make the current story much stronger, which, of course, should make it much better too. And who doesn’t like better? Or butter? Voulez-vous que le beurre?

And just because I can, here’s a little bit from a news reel about Buttercup the duck, who was born with a deformed foot, and with a little ingenuity and the marvel of 3D printing, can walk for the first time. Enjoy

Hmmmm, I wonder what Woodscrew and Dimples are up too? I’m off to investigate. Enjoy your week.


Reticently here

Happy happy joy joy!

I’ve been lost in the bliss of this years Hockey playoffs. Go Blackhawks!! Such beautiful  violence. But enough of that, I didn’t come here to talk about that.

Moving on…

I also treated myself to a new car, which has led to me traveling more. I meant to take pictures but somehow I always leave the camera in my car, and I forget that my phone takes nice pictures, so no pictures, but trust me, the car looks nice and my trips were fun. Lots of bonfires, food, drinks, laughing, and new memories. Ah yes, good times, good times. Although, I did strain an intercostal muscle, which is a muscle between the ribs; so I haven’t sneezed for over a week as the one time I did sneeze it was the worse pain I’ve ever felt in my life. A brilliant electric stabbing between my ribs. That was a week ago and lucky for me I’m healing extremely well, but I’m still leery of sneezing. Stupid muscles.

I was on call this past weekend, so I was woken up at odd times in the midst of weird dreams, which has left me with one idea for what I think could be a good Sci-Fi novel, and another that left me with a really eerie unsettling feeling, not sure about that one, but it must be something to bother me so.

As happy as I was to see summer (I missed you, buddy) it also brings a bit of sadness as that means it’s time for my son to go to his mother’s house for the summer :(                            Ah well, she is his mother and it’s only fair that she get to see him too. That leaves me all alone in my great big Victorian home. Well, almost alone, I still have those damn cats I got in the divorce. Damn those cats creep me out. All of them stare at me then look at each other as if there’s a conspiracy against me. Freaky.

As for my WIP, still working on that. After I finish with my revisions, I think I’m gonna send it to a professional editor. Might as well pretend I’m a professional and make sure my work is the best possible work it can be. Still working on the cover. It’s just not working out as I see it in my head (maybe I should shake my head and see if that matches what I’ve actually painted). And that’s where I stand on that. I still  plan on having it done and self-published this year. In fact, I’m hoping for late August early September, which feels right. This novel just feels like an Autumn yarn, bright days with chilled nights and something hidden on the breeze, something hinting at what’s coming.

3 days of summer

The clean smell after a gentle rain, or the rich smell of fresh cut grass, or as I sit here right now, experiencing stilled electric tension sliding in before the bruised clouds affluent with storm. Yeah baby, gonna have a hella storm tonight. Summer is here, and I don’t care what the calendar says, my bald spot is sun burned, so summer is here. I even love the overpowering smell of urinal cakes in the public restroom’s at the park. Botche ball, croquet, frisbee golf, and big boy golf. Reading at the beach or in my hammock. And yeah, some writing too, or editing, or painting, or dancing under a strawberry moon, this is a great time of year. We should get together and sip lemonade or gulp a nice shandy.

On another note I came home and these two loiters were in my front yard

Duck, duck,....

Duck, duck,….

And since they’re in my yard, they’re mine, so I’ve named them, Woodscrew and Dimples. Wheeeeeeee, I have ducks (which is way better than crabs). Now stop brousing the internet and go course through summer’s veins!