Monday, November 29, 2010

A sample first chapter of Repeated Life by CL Parks

Chapter 1




"Juliana?" Ms. Sams’s voice coming from the opening of my cubicle startled me, breaking my concentration.

I turned in my chair to face her, "Yes, Ms. Sams."

She stood over me in her sailor-look-alike, red suit. Her clothes reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. She reminded me of a bad Linda Evans impersonation, completing the mockery with yellow, smoke stained teeth.

"Would you mind staying a little later tonight? Mr. Mason would like to speak with you after work," Her lips curled at the edges in her attempt of a friendly smile. It came across more as a grimace.

My mind whirled with the possible reasons my boss could possibly want to speak to me. Not just that, but he wanted me to stay after work for our little conversation.

Ms. Sams tapped her ugly, red-toed, velvet shoe impatiently waiting for my answer. Linda Evans called, she wants her shoes back, I thought to myself, fighting to stifle a giggle.

"Of course, Ms. Sams. I'd be happy to." Bitch.

She gave a weak, condescending smile as she turned on her heel and headed back down the cubicle.

“Good morning, Ms. Sams.” My co-worker Amelia called from the next desk as she passed by.

“Good morning, Amelia.” Ms. Sams squawked as she passed.

Amelia gave a her a sarcastic salute behind her back, then leaned over the partition separating our cubicles. “So you excited about tonight?”

“Shit. I totally forgot about that. I got roped into staying late again tonight. Mr. Mason wants to see me about something.” I rolled my eyes, trying to seem as blasé as possible, but my lips twitched at the corners.

“Uh huh. I saw that. You’re long time crush has asked you to stay after work, and now you’ll be fantasizing about him all day.” Amelia said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“I do not have a crush on him. Yeah, he’s hot, but there’s a lot of hot guys. Besides, someone like him wouldn’t be interested in someone like me.” I turned in my chair hoping to change subjects. It didn’t work.

“Someone like you? What’s that supposed to mean? Have you not noticed how men turn their heads when you walk past? You know, you turn down more dates than anyone I know.” Amelia’s brows were drawn down over her eyes, and she had her arms perched on top of the partition. She wasn’t going to let me off the hook, no matter how hard I tried to look uninterested.

“Whatever. I’m just not ready to date yet.” Anyone else would’ve taken the hint and left well enough alone. Unfortunately, Amelia had known me my whole life, and wasn’t anyone else.

“Damn, Ana, it’s been over two years now. Time to let it go. Not all men are pricks, you know.” She threw her hands in the air in exasperation.

“Oh, yeah, and you’re the expert on relationships.” I hissed as sarcastically as I possibly could. I wanted to make sure she realized how far she was pushing me.

“Hey, I get a relationship all the time. They’re just short term.” She said dismissively.

I couldn’t help myself, I laughed at her. “Slut.” I declared.

“Prude.” She returned before sitting back in her chair. “Just try to get out of lover boy’s office as fast as possible, and we’ll wait for you.” She called over the wall.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said more to myself than out loud.

I scooted my chair back into my desk, and tried to focus on the words on the screen of my computer, but my mind wouldn’t stop returning to thoughts of my boss. Though anyone rarely saw him out of his office, when he did come around, every female stopped to watch him move through. I had even seen a few women freshen their lipstick as he made his rounds near the cubicles. I don’t think he’d spoken more than two words to me since I started over a year before. Now he was requesting a meeting with me. A private meeting. After business hours. My stomach clenched, and butterflies tickled as I tried to
consider every possible reason he could want to see me. Was I getting fired, laid off, promoted? Of course, in all honesty, I did have a minor crush on him, but every woman in the office did. Maybe I’d get lucky and get to play out one of my long running fantasies of him seducing me and making love to me on top of his desk.
As the afternoon wore into evening, I was still unsuccessful concentrating on any real work. I answered a few phone calls, and read a few emails, but that’s about as far as I could go. The fear and anxiety of the upcoming meeting was niggling at my brain and burning my gut. What in the world could he possibly want to talk to me about?

Every account and transaction I had completed in the last year was stored in my computer, so I decided to go through each as thoroughly as time allowed. I couldn’t find any obvious mistakes in the few I was able to go over, but it could still be something I couldn’t locate. Damn, what if I did something to cost the company money? I’m definitely getting fired.

“Ana!” Amelia called out, snapping her fingers at me and dragging me out of my internal fight.

"What?” I said, dazed, looking up at her standing in my cubicle doorway.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” She said, leaning against the opening of my cubicle, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, her purse over one shoulder, and her coat hanging over one arm.

I could feel the heat rushing my cheeks, “No. I’m sorry, what’s up?”

“I said I’ll see you later.” She said through a knowing smile, shaking her head teasingly.

“Later? Oh shit. Is it time already?” The day had flown past without me noticing.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” I gave a half-hearted wave, but my mind was already reeling with the upcoming meeting.

I waited until the office was empty, pushed my chair from my desk with my hands against the edge, stood, ran my hands down my skirt, and slowly made my way to Mr. Mason’s office. I had procrastinated as long as inconspicuously possible.

As I shuffled along, I watched my feet move across the generic Berber carpet that covers every office floor, mentally counting the steps. The door was in front of me entirely too soon. I paused outside the door, wiping my suddenly clammy hands on my skirt, and rapped my knuckles on the wood twice.

“Come in, Ms. Benson,” Mr. Mason called through the closed door.

I took one more deep breath, releasing it slowly, and turned the knob. The door swung open with ease, and led into a large, but bland office. I’m not sure what I was expecting to see in his office, exactly.

It held a large mahogany desk, that faced the east window, a wall of shelves filled with books, and a few manila envelopes were scattered on his desk. That was it.

There were no plaques or awards, no degrees or certificates, and absolutely no personal pictures.

“Please, have a seat.” He said, waving his hand to the two chairs across from his desk.

Instead of sitting in his own chair, he propped his hip against the edge of the desk directly across from me. “Can I get you anything, Ana?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you.” My shoulders were beginning to ache. I hadn’t realized I’d bunched my back in anticipation. I relaxed as discreetly as possible, adjusting my sitting position to make it look more natural, and concentrated on slowing my accelerated heart rate.

“Very well. I suppose your wondering why I asked you to meet me after work.”

Well, duh, “Yes sir. I am.”

He pushed at the edge of the desk with his hands, and hopped up to sit completely on top of his desk. I found this odd for a boss, but being as I knew nothing about this man, I wasn’t about to judge what he did in his own office. It also made keeping eye contact difficult with his crotch so close to me, and him sitting on the very desk I had fantasized about for over a year.

“I’m in need of a personal assistant. Mine recently…became unavailable. I’ve gone over the employee records, and with your attendance, eye for detail, and work integrity, I felt you’d be the best candidate.”

I sat there staring at him, my mouth hanging open, like a moron. I closed my mouth to avoid looking feeble, shook my head to clear it, and swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, did you just ask me to be your personal assistant?”

I swear his eyes seemed to glimmer slightly, as an amused look crossed his face. "Yes, that is exactly what I asked you. Of course, the hours can be odd at times, but you’ll be paid three times what you’re making now. You’ll have use of the company vehicle, as well as my personal jet for business.”

I found myself blinking entirely too fast. The words company car and personal jet echoed in my ears. I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn’t find my voice. I cleared my throat and tried again.

“I don’t really have use for the company car, I have my own. As for the jet, well, let’s just say I’m not a fan of flying.” I admitted, though sheepishly.

Mr. Mason smiled, dropped his head, attempting to cover his amusement at my admission, then lifted his head, composed again. “Of course, you don’t have to use either, if you don’t find the need. But, they will be at your disposal should the situation arise.”

He was so damn calm about the situation, not to mention articulate. He talked about the car and jet as if he was offering the use of his gloves.

“Mr. Mason…”

He held up a hand, “Please, Michael.” He said, cutting me off, then waved the raised hand to encourage me to continue.

I did a quick double take, “Ok, Michael. This sounds great, but wouldn’t Ms. Sams or John be better suited for this sort of position?” I could feel the skin on my forehead crinkling with my raised eyebrows, but there was really no way to hide my surprise.

Michael grimaced when I mentioned Ms. Sams. So he had a hard time stomaching that smelly woman too? I grinned to myself.

“As I said, I’ve gone through the employee files, and you are the absolute best candidate. I need someone dedicated to their job, someone reliable. Your file says you’ve only missed one day in the last year. Is that correct?”

I chewed the inside of my cheek, trying to recall my absence. “Oh, yeah. My flight was late coming back from a business trip.”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You’ve never even taken a sick day.” His voice raised slightly for emphasis.

“I don’t get sick. I’d rather save my personal days for something else.” What that something else was I wasn’t sure. Eventually, I hoped to take some sort of vacation. I craved a little excitement, like most women craved romance. Hell, I would’ve loved an exciting romance even more!

Michael leaned forward, holding his weight on his hands, and his grey eyes watched me through his thick black lashes.

I dropped my gaze, a little uncomfortable with the sudden scrutiny, and tried to think clearly. “What exactly would this job entail? Would I be picking up your dry cleaning, taking your kids to school, walking your dog? What?”

Michael chuckled softly, “No kids, no dog, and no you wouldn’t be picking up my dry cleaning. You would, however, run business related errands for me, maintain my work and personal schedule, things like that. I promise there are no sordid or nefarious details to this job.” His smile was absolutely intoxicating.

I felt like he was laughing at me, but in reality I was laughing at myself. Michael was gorgeous in a Greek god kind of way. His dark hair was combed into sexy waves, but not plastered down like most guys do. His grey eyes were the color of a storm cloud, his body chiseled from rock. I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t just hire some beautiful, young secretary to do his biddings, but as long as he was paying me, I wasn’t about to argue.

He had no kids; did that mean he wasn’t married, or that he just hadn’t started a family yet? Only one way to find out.

“Would I be responsible for Mrs. Mason’s schedule, as well?” My stomach clenched waiting for the answer. Please say you’re not married. Please say you’re not married.

He shook his head, “No. No Mrs. Mason.” Yes!

Michael looked to be around thirty, but a lot of executives married late in life.

Besides, who was I to judge? I married early and look where it got me. Either way, he hadn’t mentioned a girlfriend, and he had just admitted he wasn’t married. Therefore, I wouldn’t feel guilty flirting during private hours.

I watched out the window for a series of heartbeats, pretending to be distracted by a pigeon resting on the window ledge, while trying to rectify the situation in my head.

Screw it, I thought to myself.

“I’ll do it. I mean, I’ll take the job.” I sounded a little more overzealous than I had intended, but he didn’t seem to notice.

He hopped gracefully from the desk, and extended his hand out to me. I stood, overly aware of how close he was, took his hand and shook it. His hand was warm, soft, yet calloused.

“Great. You’re first job is to report here tomorrow around ten in the morning.” He said with a sharp nod.

“Ten? I usually come in around seven thirty. Don’t you need me before then?”

“Nope. I won’t be in until later, so there’s no point in you being here, either. I’ll leave a list of instructions on your desk before I leave tonight.” He answered.

I studied his expression for a moment, but nodded my head and turned to leave. An itch began in the middle of my spine, more like a tingle. I turned to find Michael watching me, his eyes locked on mine. Ok, that was weird.

I made my way out of his office, pulling his door closed behind me. I stopped by my desk to gather my things, and plopped down in my desk chair heavily. The computer had been turned off over an hour ago, but I still found myself staring at the blank screen. The more I thought about the situation, the wider my smile grew. I was going to be Mr. Mason’s, excuse me, Michael’s personal assistant. I was going to be in charge of the boss’s personal affairs.

My chair squeaked underneath me as I did a little celebratory dance, stifling the squeal that was building in my throat. I’d just let that go in the car.

A low, throaty cough startled me. My face immediately flushed, burning my cheeks with humiliation. I turned slowly in my chair, dreading the look on my boss’s face.

“I’m sorry, one more thing. Would you mind meeting me at Starbuck’s before coming in? I’d like to introduce you to my partner, as you’ll be dealing with him a lot, as well.”

“Yes, of course.” I stammered. He had obviously witnessed my little show, but graciously, didn’t mention it. That didn’t, however, improve the heat in my face. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

I gathered my purse with as much dignity as I could muster, and quickly shuffled out of the cubicle. He moved, allowing me just enough room to pass, but I could still feel his heat against my bare arms. I couldn’t force myself to look at him as I passed, terrified he’d start laughing.

You are such a dork, I reprimanded myself as I headed to the elevator.

The parking garage was in the basement, so I had another six floors to replay the recent humiliation in my head. Just let it go and enjoy the new raise, I kept telling myself.

As the elevator door opened, I ambled into the garage, my heels echoing throughout the concrete enclosure. I’d forgotten to take my keys out, completely distracted by all the changes to my night. I rooted around, my head almost buried in my purse, and didn’t notice the soft footprints sounding close by.

My key had slid into the door lock easily, and I began to unlock the door, when a hand grabbed my shoulder from behind, forcing me against my car. The stranger’s body had me pinned, preventing me from turning.

“What do you want? I don’t have any money, but you can have my car.” My voice came out breathy, but I managed not to sound panicked.

“You know what I want. I’ve told you enough times, or are you really that stupid?!”

My ex-husband’s voice growled in my ear. The smell of alcohol wafted across my face as he spoke, and I turned my head away from the stench.

“John, you’re drunk. Just get off of me and leave. If you don’t I’m gonna call the police.” My heart was beginning to speed up, thundering against my rib cage.

“Really, you’re gonna call the cops, huh?” John snatched my bag off my shoulder, and threw it across the garage. “And how do you plan on doing that, you stupid bitch?”

The self-defense class I’d taken started ringing in my ears. Nose, eyes, knee, groin. Take out the weakest points.

I threw my head back as hard as I could, and felt the back of my skull make contact with something. The crunch of bone was proceeded by a painful howl. His grip loosened just enough for me to pull out of his grasp. The elevator was about twenty feet away, and I ran full force for the doors, my eyes sweeping from side to side, looking for help or a convenient weapon. I had mace in my purse, but it did me no good when I didn’t have a clue where the hell John had thrown the damn thing.

I had only six feet to go, but he caught me. He grabbed a full handful of hair, yanking my head back painfully. I couldn’t help the yelp that escaped my lips as several pops indicated a lot of hair had been ripped from their roots. My balance was thrown off momentarily, and by the time I regained my composure, a fist was planted against the side of my face. I didn’t see it coming, and had no time to block it.

My knees wobbled, then gave out. My pantyhose - and the skin beneath - ripped against the hard concrete. I opened my mouth, attempting to scream for help, when another blow caught me in the mouth. The sweet, coppery taste filled my mouth, but I didn’t feel any teeth give way. The blow had, however knocked me backwards, smacking my head against the parking lot.

The concrete floor was cold and hard. My back pressed hard against it, as John climbed on top of me and wrapped his hands around my throat.

“You gonna come home with me?” He said, spittle landing on my face. His breath was enough to make me gag, and between the spit, and cigarette and booze breath, I almost lost my cookies.

“Fuck you.” I managed through busted, swollen lips.

He tightened his grip, enough to make my spots appear before my eyes, and cutting of any more colorful words I may have thought of. “Wrong answer. I told you, if I can’t have you, no one can. Kind of a clichéd way to die, huh bitch?”

I stretched my hands up, my nails finding purchase on his face. I clawed at him, frantically, but he didn’t release his hold.

The spots before my eyes were being swallowed by grey. I was losing consciousness.

The face of the man who had terrorized me our entire marriage was quickly fading behind a black curtain. His face would be the last thing I saw before dying. Dear God, not yet.

A loud, bone rattling growl resounded through the garage. I saw John’s head whip up in fear, then the world went away, and I drifted into nothingness.

Friday, November 26, 2010

My Very First (blogged) Movie Review

So, my darling husband rented The Expendables tonight, knowing how badly I wanted to see it. To me, that movie is the equivalent to giving a child the key to a candy store. I am an action and horror fanatic. There is no such thing as too much gore, too many explosions, or too many weapons. The more hand to hand combat the better. And somebody better off the bad guy in a violent and/or gory manner by the end of the movie.

Having said all that, I have to say...I feel let down. I'm extremely disappointed by this movie. The trailers teased some of my all time favorite action heroes including Bruce Willis, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester Stallone, Dolph Lundgren, Mickey Rourke, and many more. If you're renting it to see any of the above you'll be very disappointed. Now, if you don't like spoilers, stop reading....NOW!

Bruce and Arnold are in one five minute scene for the whole movie. Mickey has a total of three scenes, albeit the best in the movie. You can't NOT love Mickey Rourke. Dolph has very few, though rather action packed scenes, and the list of disappointments goes on.

Remember how much I said I love explosions? I hated them in this movie. They reminded me of the bad technicolor bombs from the mid to late 80s. You know what I mean, then ones that look like somebody added the flames after the movie was shot, and only as an afterthought.

Now, on to the plot. Though I can easily watch an action movie with a weak plot, this one was not only weak, but overly predictable. It seemed every scene or major line was cliched, right down to the damsel in distress. Apparently, whoever came up with this movie didn't get the memo about the bad ass heroines now gracing the big screen. Hell, even books are chock full of women kicking ass left and right. I'm not on a sexist rant, trust me, but at least let the woman get a little revenge.

I did laugh at a few of the weak jokes, (Jet Li has some great conversations about why he deserves more money), and smiled at the creative gore in some scenes, but overall...very, very disappointed. If you're interested in seeing for yourself, make sure you go to Red Box or the Blockbuster equivalent so you only lose $1 (and approximately an hour and a half of your life). I would've been pissed had I spent $10 to see this at the theatre.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Be Thankful, Dammit!!

Over the last few weeks I've listened to so many complain about having nothing to be thankful for. Seriously? Oh, I have nothing to be thankful for, or with the country/economy the way it is there's nothing to be thankful for. Then, of course, there's the usual, do you know what this holiday really means?

Shut up! Quit your whining and look around you.

Sure, there's a lot to be concerned over, but are your kids healthy? Do you have a roof over your head? A job, even if it's minimum wage? Do you have food in your belly? Do you live in America, where you're free?

Personally, I have a long list of things I'm thankful for...my kids are healthy and happy. They go to a great school where they're getting a free education. My husband and I are happily married, and we both have our health. We have a roof over our heads that doesn't leak. Our bellys are full every night before going to bed. I have awesome pets. I'm Christian and don't have to fear for my life when confessing my faith in Jesus Christ. My husband is gainfully employed, which allows me to focus on my lifelong dream of writing for a living. I have a large, loving family, no matter how dysfunctional at times. I have awesome, devoted friends..both in real life and my cyber friends.

I could seriously keep going for hours. Before sitting back and feeling sorry for yourself, take a look around. You don't even have to look at other countries. Take a look at your neighbors, other communities, other states. If you can read, have a meal everyday, have a job, and a roof over your head, you're more blessed than over 10% of this country. Hell, it may even be higher than that...I didn't exactly research my numbers before ranting and raving today.

Look around you, and smile. You're very blessed, therefore, you have much to be thankful for. May God bless you and yours on this holiday, and all the days of your life.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Could be one of the worst years ever....

Yeah, that sounds like a pity party, but it's my party and I'll cry if I want to. Thing is, I only lost one friend to death, and no close members...though I'm came close twice to losing an immediate family member. But all the incidents, both small and large, have put so much stress on me I feel both physically and mentally tired all the time, every day. It takes a toll on an overly energetic person like myself.

Now, I've always said, if you don't like something about your life you should change it. How do you change things that have nothing to do with yourself. I have an issue of being an overly compassionate person. I mean like compassionate to a fault. I will see a fender bender, pass it, not go back, then obsess for weeks over whether they had gotten hurt and how I should've gone back to check on them. Sounds strange, doesn't it.

To top that off, when someone around me - or even on television - is hurting emotionally or physically, I feel physical pain. My chest gets heavy, and my stomach burns and aches. This is called Heartbreak Syndrome (yes, it's real. Look it up if you don't believe me). I've always wished I could be one of those people that hear bad news, and while I still felt "bad" for them, I didn't obsess over trying to make things better for them.

Some of you are sitting there with your mouths agape, amazed that something as hard as myself can be so soft inside. What can I say? I'm a great actress. Hell, I should probably get an Academy Award for how tough I pretend to be. Don't get me confused with being a push over...I'll jack someone up if they mess with my friends or family. But, at the same time, I'll feel very guilty for causing you any distress...maybe.

I've always wondered if there was a way to break this cycle. I would love to just feel my own pains and not everyone around me. I would love to stress out only over my own life, not everyone I know. I love to say "no" just once a day. You'd think saying those two simple letters would be easy, but not for people like myself. I'm always scared if I say no, something bad will happen. Is that a form of OCD? I should ask a shrink sometime.

So, to sum up this blog, I'm hoping and praying next year will bring way less stress. I really don't think I can take another year like this one. No, I won't bore you with specifics, but those of you reading this who are part of my everyday life are nodding in agreement. This year sucked...but my family is healthy, my kids are loved, and I have the greatest husband in the world!

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

It's Just A Matter Of Time....

Now, I've never been a Doomsday person, or someone to jump on the fear wagon. In fact, I didn't do ANYTHING to prepare for the dreaded Y2K (thank God), but something's coming. No, I'm not saying it's the Apocalypse, or the end of the world, or even the Zombie Apocalypse. But civil unrest is just stirring below the surface.

Everyday, hardworking Americans are tired. Not just physically, either. We're tired of government trying to run our lives, and take away our liberties because they feel it's what's best for us. They don't know what's best for me. And they definitely don't know what's best for my family. An article was released in one of the political online mags today describing how George Soros is counseling President Obama to take force against Americans, and to lay down executive law.

This is one of the steps which will aid in a Civil War. But this time it won't be North versus South. It'll be us against them, citizens against government. The government has talked about instilling large scale inflation to boost the economy...where does that leave those of us who can barely afford the bills we have?

Now here's the spooky question....could you survive without grocery stores? Is your family prepared if the government tries to muscle you out of your home? Could you survive without power, heat, A/C?

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

What a Beautiful Morning....

I'm trying to get myself motivated to get up and go to the gym. It's not that I don't want to go, I enjoy the gym. It's that my body wants to go back to bed. I keep looking out the window at the sun shining on the beautiful Autumn leaves hoping it'll get me off this chair, but so far it's just hypnotized me into staring out the window longer.

Yesterday, I practiced throwing knives after my gym workout. My right arm and shoulder are so sore. It's mainly my bicep and forearm, but you get the point. I was hoping to work on my arms today, but I guess I'll focus on my legs or back instead. What's with all the exercise talk you ask? If you've been following my blogs you'll see a pattern. It's a mixture of training for research while trying to reverse the curse of the writer.

Laurell K Hamilton, one of my favorite local authors, writes about going from a size 14 to a size 8, and I believe she's even smaller now. A majority of authors become overweight or out of shape. Why, you ask? Seriously, you need to ask that? Look at what we do all day...we sit and write for hours at a time. Then, we sit and read or research...or both. So, as you can see, we get very out of shape. Luckily for me, I had blood work done at the doctor and was given an early wake up call.

Now, on to the blood tests. I'm currently watching what I eat, making sure to eat chicken, fish, and a crap load of vegetables, all while taking my meds. I'm also working out at the gym 5-6 days a week, and attempting to reduce my stress level (yeah, right). I go back in a few weeks to have my follow up testing done, so we'll find out then if I'll be having a heart attack anytime in the near future.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Would Your Sanity Survive?

The country's finances crash, there is no money to give out, no jobs left. Chaos erupts, technology crashes, humanity falls apart. Would you survive?

If our country, or better yet, our world were to ever face the catastrophes we see in movies, the bad guys would take over. They terrorize the "weak", they would rob, kill, rape. Would you survive?

Our communities, and more specifically, our little suburbs would no longer be safe. We would be forced to rely on our neighbors, the same people we say no more than three words a year to, to watch our backs, to take turns at nighttime surveillance. Would you survive?

Or would you be safer taking off for the woods? Perhaps you'd feel safer surrounded by wilderness, or living in a cave. Would you build a cabin? Or just sleep in a makeshift shelter?

What about food? If the economy, and civilization as we know it crashes, we'll be on our on when it comes to food. Would you grow your own, raise cattle and chickens? Or would you hunt deer, turkey, and rabbits? Could you gut and skin these animals? Could you destroy your pretty little manicure with blood and entrails?

Would you survive? Could you put everything you've ever learned on the back burner and depend on nothing more than survival instincts? More importantly, would your sanity survive?

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Would You Survive?

If the world as you know it ended today, would you survive? I'm not talking about the Apocalypse, I'm talking about no more technology. No more Internet, no more electricity, no more heat or air conditioning. You'd have to read to entertain yourself instead of watching television, or listening to the radio. If you wanted to hear music, you'd have to make it yourself or find a musician.

How about food? Would you be able to cut off the head of a chicken in order to have the meat? Could you kill a cow for the beef? Or how about it's hide? Could you wear a dead animal's skin in order to stay warm?

The big question is, could you kill to protect your own family, or your life? What about stealing from someone else to make sure there's food in your baby's belly? Could you do it? Could you survive if the world as we know it were to cease?

Do you have it in you to live like our ancestors, depending on yourself, your crops and your community?

Friday, November 5, 2010

My Muse Has Reappeared!

I spent quite a few hours writing yesterday, and loved every second of it. Has anyone else noticed when you take a break from the stories, how much you realize you missed your characters?

Of course, now I have about ten new story ideas floating around in my head. Creativity and a strong, active imagination is both a blessing and a curse. I'd love to watch TV or a movie without rewriting the damn thing in my head!

On to the next random thought - the kids are home from school today, and in the few short minutes since I started writing this, I've heard "Hey, mom," six times. Yep...six. I love my kids, I love when they're home, but damn it's hard to write when they're here. The cool part, though, is they love to get me cups of coffee, and know how I like it. It's great to have older kids, sometimes!

I got to sleep in today! Woohoo! Except the ring I have programmed for my mom is dogs barking. I woke up yelling at the dogs to shut up before I realized my phone was ringing. Maybe it's time to change that ringer.

Whew, I'm full of random thoughts today! Don't worry, I'll have a real topic next time...just imagine what it's like inside my head!

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Picking the Actors to Star in the Making of My Novels!

So, I was thinking while I was cleaning, and I think I've finally figured out who Michael in my novel Repeated Life resembles in my head. If Repeated Life were a movie, Michael would be played by Kevin Durand. He's 6'6" of hunking man! He's got the right masculinity mixed with boyish charm.

I know I'm not the only one who fantasizes about who would play their characters in movies. Whether my books ever become movies or not, it's nice to have a mental picture of my imaginary friends.

Day Two of Lifestyle Change...and No Writing

I don't know which I miss more...the soda and doughnuts, or my characters. I'm also in the midst of the seasonal clothes switchover, while cleaning and doing normal day to day housework. I'd much rather sit at my computer and disappear into my worlds I built. Everything is clean and in place there.

As I'm typing, all three of my kids are behind me, refolding their clothes I handed them folded, while talking all at once. You try to stay focused with that going on. I usually only write while they're at school, but lately, I'm taking what little time I can to get anything done.

Just like many of you, I have many interruptions throughout the day. I had all three kids this morning, plus my oldest brother was here until after nine. I left him while I went to the gym. Then, my youngest sister stopped by after school, like she does every Tuesday and Thursday. My older brother borrowed my car, then returned with my younger brother. And you all wonder why I like my cigarettes and junk food.

I'm hoping to set boundaries and stick to them, keeping everyone from my house and refraining from calling me while I'm working. Whether or not they'll follow my new rules is yet to be seen!

Monday, November 1, 2010

The Curse of the Writer...

As all my writer friends know, a writer's life is very sedentary. We sit at our computers for hours at a time, then the rest of the time is spent reading our genre, researching for our stories, or reading writing techniques. As a consequence, our health tends to go downhill.

Well, it's happened. I received my lab work from my last physical, and not only have I gained weight since I got married two and a half years ago, but my cholesterol is high. The fact that heart disease, strokes, and heart attacks run in my family, I now have to worry about that as well.

So, here's the moral of the story. I have to get back in shape. I've signed up for the gym, which I'll be heading to after my last kid gets on the bus, then heading to the grocery store for healthy food! My writing will have to be put on hold for a couple of days while I get my house in order, both literally and figuratively.

Don't worry, I'll still stop in and keep you guys updated on that's happening.