New Fanfiction – Walker: Independence

Posted in Posts by Rachael C Marek

I enjoy Westerns. I like the genre. For some reason, I’m all about the drama that often unfolds when an uptight Easterner travels West and clashes with the wildness of the lawless land.

I also relish in the potential for a star-crossed lover moment – Last of the Mohicans is one of my favorites. So, this show, Walker: Independence kept popping up on my list of “recommendations” and out of curiosity, I decided to give the first episode a look-see. It’s not a great show, but it had potential, and some of the episodes and topics touched upon were good, but because of what I saw in those first few minutes…I was inspired to write a new fan fiction.

There is absolutely something going on between the two characters above, Abby and Calian, and despite the series only being one season of 13 episodes, there is plenty of subtly between them to examine and expand upon. Who knows what the show’s writers intended for these two, but if you watch their interactions, you’ll see what I saw.

So, yeah. Here we go again.

If you’re unfamiliar with the CW show now on HBOMax, Abigail Collins and her husband, Liam are on their way to the town of Independence, TX where Liam is to be the new sheriff. One night, when they stop to rest, an unseen shooter attacks them, killing Liam and leaving Abby for dead.

Abby is saved by Calian, and healed by his tribe, who give her the Apache name “Walks in Tall Grass”. Once she’s recovered, she travels to town to inform them about what’s happened, and runs into the new-new sheriff, Tom Davidson, who she is certain is the shooter. Abigail Collins, now Abby Walker (see what they did there?) along with Calian and an outlaw named Hoyt join forces to stop Tom and his family from enacting whatever plans they have for the town.

I’ve put myself on a strict self-imposed writing goal of one chapter per episode per week. I don’t want to linger and think too much. I just want to write. I’m currently writing chapter 5.

After watching the show and seeing Abby and Calian’s relationship not really go anywhere thanks to having only 13 episodes, I checked out Archive of Our Own to see if anyone else had written about them. They had not. Not only were there no fics about these two, there were only a handful of fics in total. Talk about a small fandom.

The fic is titled, Through Calian’s Eyes and it’s rated PG (for now). This was a CW show, so it’s pretty tame, but I’m having thoughts, so the rating may change in the last chapter which would be non-canonical. I’m sharing Chapter One, and eventually it will get its own section under the Scribbles heading here, but if you’re interested, you can follow along over on AO3.

I hope you enjoy!

Untitled Pilot aka And Then There Were Three

It was warm on the prairie. It was the kind of day where the heat rising from the plains could play tricks on the eyes, but Calian knew the difference between worlds, or so he thought. When his little sister appeared to him, leading him when needed, he knew it wasn’t her. It had been many years since she had gone missing, and the figure that showed itself to him was her young self, not the woman she would have become in the years since, and yet he followed her, every time.

This time, she ran amidst the swirls of light spiraling off the land, leading him further than she had before until she finally stood still and pointed to a blue-green blur a short distance away –

– a woman.

A white woman…teetering on the edge of death.

She had been shot. Left for dead. From the look of her, she had walked a good distance before collapsing under the desert sun. Her alabastor skin was made even more fair by the compliment of copper colored waves surrounding her. Her features were so unlike his own, and yet there was something about her Calian couldn’t name, a deep seeded desire to help her, and not only because his sister had brought him to find her. Calian contemplated the consequences of being discovered with her. The townspeople were quick with their vile thoughts, believing his people capable of every type of ill intent.

But he couldn’t leave her.

There was still life in her. Her golden green eyes fluttered just once, but that was all the encouragement Calian needed.

She was small in his hands, and a fierce emotion of protection flooded his entire being. It was a feeling unlike anything he had felt before. He didn’t know what it meant, and he could never guess at what it would mean for him in the future, but at that moment, he knew he needed to safeguard her.

He took her home.

To his people.

Days later, when her golden green eyes fluttered open again, Calian was sure to be the first face she saw. His friend, Augustus had told him once that he had a kind face, and he knew for a woman, such as her, the emotion he could evoke would most likely be of comfort to her when she discovered where she was.

He was still concerned for her overall well being, but he was also curious about her. How had she come to such state? Who wished to inflict such pain upon her? The placement of the shot in her shoulder had meant to wound her, not kill her, at least not right away, so was she still in danger? He held her gaze, and found her eyes entrancing, and noticed, she, too, found it difficult to look away.

Despite her circumstances, and her initial fear, being near him had brought her a sense of calm. He could feel it. “How are you feeling?” He tried to keep his voice steady.

“How…how long have I been here?” She looked around nervously. Realizing she was in her smallclothes, she made a little effort to bring the blanket closer upwards in a discreet move of modesty.

“Four days.” Her face registered her disbelief, but Calian continued. “We found you in the plains. The Elders healed you.”

Her first thought was of thanks, something he appreciated more than he should have, but he quickly realized it was, in part, because of the way she looked, and what treatment he had become accustomed to from those that looked like her. She was surrounded by strangers, those reviled by the settlers, but she didn’t have the same look in her eye that he was used to seeing. She didn’t shrink away from him. Maybe they thought differently in Boston.

She tried to rise, but she was still in pain.

“Where are you from?” He tried to distract her.

“Boston. It’s east, in…”

“Massachusetts.” He found it delightful that she was surprised by his knowledge. “I’ve read of Boston.”

“Where did you learn to speak..?”

“I used to scout for the US Cavalry.”

His people whispered behind them. They did not like how comfortable he and the woman seemed to be, but it amused Calian all the same.

Her ears perked up when she heard the same phrase uttered a few times.

Djon-deh-zee.

“What…what does that mean? Djon-deh-zee?” Tears continued to pool, but he could see the strength behind the sadness too.

“Walks in Tall Grass. What they call you.” He couldn’t keep the smile from his lips.

“My-my name is Abigail. Abigail Collins.”

“I’m Calian.”

And then her sorrow had reason. A husband. Past tense. “..supposed to be sheriff…” She asked if Calian knew where the town of Independence was, which, of course, he did.

She was hopeful, and he couldn’t deny her.

After she rested, now that she had finally awakened, Calian took Abigail to the hilltop that overlooked the valley where the new town was expanding. Calian stood a respectful distance from her.

“I need to tell them what happened.” Her voice held a certain resolve.

“Find Deputy Augustus. He’s a good man.” Calian turned back toward his horse, a strange knot in his chest. “He’ll help you.”

“You aren’t coming with me?” He saw the disappointment on her face, heard it in her voice.

“Some might not want to see an Apache with a white woman.” Saying what so many believed aloud was almost as painful as leaving her.

“Well, that should change.”

He knew she meant it, and that was a salve to his soul. “Maybe one day.” He smiled again as he mounted his horse.

“Thank you. I hope to see you again.”

He responded in Apache, hoping to leave an impression on her. And then they each turned, not willing to watch the other leave.

When evening fell, Calian felt compelled to return to the ridge that overlooked the town – to where he had said his farewell to the intriguing woman who had so quickly turned his head. He sat quietly alone, wrestling with the warring emotions within him. He wanted to go to town, he wanted to find Abigail, to see her again, but given who he was, he knew the town would be suspicous of him, even in spite of everything he had done for them.

And as if on cue, Gus rode up to greet him. “Little bank robbery earlier.”

“Been a while.”

“Yeah. Took a hostage. A woman. Folks at the bank said her name was Abby. Abby Walker.” Calian knew Gus was fishing, he just wasn’t sure why. He had told Abigail she could trust Augustus, and she would have mentioned Calian’s name, but Gus was looking for something more. He could still hear Gus talking, but the words stopped holding meaning as his mind wandered. Something struck him.

Walker. She had taken her Apache name.

Such knowledge brought him a great deal of joy.

Gus rounded his horse around Calian, and Calian took the moment to calm himself. “I’ll track her first daylight.” He knew, at least in some part, that was what Gus wanted from him, so he obliged.

It was also an opportunity to see her again.

“Yeah. Or…you can ride down with me.” They looked at one another, an unspoken conversation between old friends happened in a matter of moments until Calian acquiesced and obliged Gus again. Together they rode into town.

Calian was unaware of the celebration happening to honor the new sheriff when he arrived, so he kept to the shadows, to the outskirts of the townsfolk so he could observe the happenings without being noticed. There was singing and gun fire and dancing girls and then there was Abby…with a man.

They looked like they knew one another. They were speaking in hushed tones, their faces were twisted as if tight with anger or stress. She had made a fast friend, so it seemed, and a pang of jealousy struck Calian’s heart. Would he ever be as fortunate to find himself in her confidence? To stand close to her, in the view of any and everyone.

He turned away, frustrated.

What he had not seen, and what he would not know for some time was that Abby had tried to kill the new sheriff. She believed him responsible for her husband’s murder, and Hoyt had intervened and saved her. He would be grateful to the man later, but just then, he did not like how close the stranger was able to stand beside Abby.

The next morning, Calian tracked Abby to the site of her attack. He could hear her cry out as she found her husband’s body. He also heard the click of her “friend’s” gun.

He called out her Apache name first, so she would know it was him. He tried to keep the disdain out of his voice as he followed up with, “Tell your friend not to shoot.”

He heard her reassure her friend that she knew him, and while he approached her cautiously, he could see she was relieved to see him again. It caused yet another pang to his heart that he could not control.

“And then there were three.” Her friend, Hoyt said. Calian didn’t quite understand the reference yet, but he would.

Abby picked up a tossed aside rifle, as if it might bring her strength, and then she asked, “Will you help me bury him?”

They did.

He spoke reassuring words in Apache, “There is no death. Only a change in worlds.” He knew she couldn’t understand him, but he hoped his presence would bring her some comfort. “His soul goes to the air now.” It was what his people believed, and he tossed some of the dirt at the grave to the air symbolically. Abby, too, offered her own rite of passage, the placing of her ring upon the stones that marked the burial. Hoyt then spoke words of solace, something more appropriate for their people, and it all seemed to bring her closure.

As they left, Abby spoke of a conversation Calian had not been privy to, about revenge. But she had learned something about herself in a short time. She wanted justice for what had happened to her and her husband.

She had found a sense of belonging in Calian’s absence or maybe because of his presence. He found himself truly hoping it was, in part, the latter. In spite of everything he knew of this land, he had discovered a sliver of hope he never thought possible. He knew it was too soon to think such thoughts – they were from different worlds – they might never be accepted – she was in mourning – but he had been destined to find her, and he could not deny their connection. He had no idea what might be in store for them, but he was willing to risk a great deal to find out.

He couldn’t stay away from her. He didn’t want to. And he was willing to bear Hoyt’s presence to be by her side. “And then there were three.” Hoyt had said. Calian now understood.

~ * ~

Are you a fan fic writer? Are you working on something different from your usual? Wanna share so we can all support you? Drop a link in the comments.

Happy Writing!

10Dec2025

2025 Year End Review

Posted in Posts by Rachael C Marek

Here we are again.

The end of another year.

How?!

I simultaneously believe, every year, that I’ve done well with my goals and yet, still not done enough. Since I started my annual goal setting, I definitely feel more productive. There’s a way to measure progress and reflect on the year and see the incremental improvements, and yet as we reach December, every year, I am hard on myself. I always think I could have done more.

So let’s see what I did this year…

Writing Goals

Write a new script. I wrote a whopper, Man of Sin, which is currently sitting at 242 pages.
Write 16 new flash fictions. Completed in July.
Have at least one more script, in addition to Fate(s), be show ready. I rewrote Projection and I love it.
Write more fan fiction. If you know me, you would imagine it was going to be more Dragon Age. I planned on it, but shockingly, it was not. I started an entirely new project based on the show, Walker: Independence. That’s a story for another day.
Create a condensed, all in one place, idea journal. Check

Fails – I did not update my blog as often as I’d hoped, nor did I create a show bible for my tv series, The Demeter .

Reading Goals

Because I wanted to write more this year, I set my reading bar low – only 12 books this year. I’m still deciding on book twelve, so I’m sure I won’t finish it within the time frame.

Favorite book: Mila 18 by Leon Uris

Movie Watching Goal

For a couple of years there, I was trying to watch one new movie a week. Easy enough, you would think, but with so many good shows, gaming, and writing and reading to be done, it was a hard goal to maintain. I made a more tangible goal a few years ago, two movies a month. Much easier to hit.

Favorite Movies: Sinners and Superman (both available on HBO)

TV Watching Goal

Trying to keep up with all of the streaming services and their original programming is difficult when you have so many interests. My goal was to watch at least one season of 12 new shows = one new show a month. Officially, I watched 12 new series (some with multiple seasons), but didn’t finish one. It just didn’t grab me.

Favorite Shows: Interview with a Vampire (AMC & Netflix), Black Doves (Netflix), and Fleabag (Prime)

Duolingo

When we upgraded our phones last year, I downloaded the Duolingo app and set myself the goal of learning French, a language I had studied in high school and college, for at least a year and a half = roughly 547 days. As of today I’m at 617 days with a perfect streak of 11 weeks. Yay!

50th Birthday Celebration

We have little dogs with health issues, so we don’t travel often, or at all. Hawaii was 7 years ago now. ((weeps silently to herself)) I wanted to go on a trip for my 50th. London, to be specific. I started doing some research, looked at flights, and then one of The Sis’s favorite bands, System of a Down announced six North American show dates, two in Chicago with one of her other favorite bands, Avenged Sevenfold. It was a no-brainer. We were going to Chicago. Happy Birthday to me us!

I’ll share details of the trip soon, but it was so wonderful to get away and see new sights, meet new and old friends, and let The Sis enjoy, what she considers, the greatest concert she’s ever been to.

Well. There you have it.

Couldn’t ask for a better goal achieving moment for the year.

How’d your year shape up? Wanna celebrate any of the goals you made?

Here’s to a continuously more productive new year!

xx, Rach

16Jul2025

Writing Prompt Challenge Accepted #34

Posted in Posts, Writing Prompt by Rachael C Marek

Today marks the official completion of one of my goals for the year –

16 flash fiction pieces written based on writing prompts I’ve shared, bringing my total to 90.

A small victory, but satisfying nonetheless, and something to celebrate, as all completed goals deserve.

Here are July’s offerings:

Unlocked

All houses had their secrets. The older the house, the greater the number of secrets it held. Everyone had heard the whispers of what happened in my house, long before I was even born, but now, as I took on the mantle of mistress of this keep, it was time to learn what was behind every door, what secrets were being kept, what mysteries might be revealed.

I left the warmth of the upper floors to delve deep into the lower levels where I had been restricted from entering…until now. I took a final glance as I descended the rough hewn stairs to the fading golden, reassuring light, and made my way into what had always been described as a pit of hell.

Accommodation*

When Wyeth had suggested they spend a long “weekend” on an advanced planet, Sadie not only blushed at the thought of the two of them spending time alone together, but she also could never have imagined such a place as the towering neon cityscape that made up the entirety of the planet spread before her. She could see a great deal of it from above on the ship. As if it weren’t mind bending enough to know such a place existed, that is was also not the only one of its kind caused Sadie to rethink everything she had ever learned. Traveling with Wyeth, for even such a short time, had led her to see remarkable things. Earth was only a tiny planet in a tiny system and the humans that lived on that little blue dot were ignorant of what lay beyond their known universe.

As Sadie and Wyeth strode into what was considered mid-range accomodations, the clean shiny surfaces made Sadie fearful of touching anything. It was a hotel, rising hundreds of stories into the clouds, but to Sadie it was magic, a marvel, and another clue into the mystery that was Wyeth. The way he handled himself in any given situation, the things he knew, the things he said, the things he didn’t say – it all made her realize how little she truly knew of him and that she wanted to know everything.

*This was one of those times I sort of had an idea of what I was going to write, and then a story of its own making made itself known. I was tired, not fully paying attention, and the above is what happened…stream of consciousness at its best, I suppose.

Peephole

Hannah didn’t like to think of herself as a gossip, but she did admit that she enjoyed hearing about whatever scandalous topic had her circle’s full attention, so when the wealthy, handsome, single Lord Evan broke his journey at her family’s estate, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from eavesdropping to learn what she could of the man. There was very little to entertain a young lady outside of town.

Well, perhaps gossip wasn’t too disparaging a word.

It wasn’t just that he was rich and titled, he was attractive and alluring in a way that made Hannah want to draw nearer. He seemed to feel it too. He sought out her company, engaged her in conversation, and stirred her imagination with posssibility. She was certain he would speak to her father, and so later, when she spied on him through the keyhole in his door, hoping to ascertain how the conversation might have gone, given his demeanor, she found herself rooted to the floor with an eye full of his bare flesh. He didn’t look anything like the boys in her village who swam in the lake in the summer.

No, indeed.

She couldn’t move, her mind swirled, and then, as if sensing her presence, he turned to give her a complete view, and she noticed the smile upon his lips. “Well,” Hannah thought, “I do enjoy a challenge. I’ll have him begging for my hand before his sojourn ends.”

~ * ~

We’re over halfway through the year, how are your goals coming along?

If you’ve been inspired by any of the prompts I’ve shared, I’d love to see what you’ve created!

Happy Writing!

19Jun2025

What I’ve Been Up To – A New Screenplay & Potential Novel: Man of Sin

Posted in Posts by Rachael C Marek

Last December I hurt my back at work. I was out for about 2 1/2 months. The first couple of weeks were rough. I could barely move, so everything required patience and effort.

It also allowed me free time. Sweet, sweet free time.

I finally had time to research new ideas, including a side business. More on that later. I could finish Baldur’s Gate 3 without having to negotiate TV time with The Sis. More on that later too. But most importantly, I got time to write. And I made use of it by finishing the first draft of a new screenplay I’ve titled, Man of Sin.

One little hiccup, I have quite a few more ideas for its continuation, and I’m not sure I want to make it a sequel, but then again, it might be fun as a limited series, so I’m currently trying to figure that out.

I also had the idea that with so much content, it might work well as a novel, get in on that IP train, and I’ve always wanted to see my work on a bookshelf.

I came up with a very vague idea of the story years ago, like 12. Eek. All from a line of dialogue in an episode of American Horror Story. This is why an idea journal is a great “idea”. Any time I hear an interesting phrase, have a snippet of an idea, or even have a weird dream, I write it down. You never know when that random thing will percolate into a full fledged story.

And here we are.

When I started plotting the new story last year sometime, it was meant to be a dark, terrible story about a secret sect of the Church and their dealings. The idea is does anyone know the identity of the anti-christ and how was that information discovered? The protagonists are a pair from two sides of this sect – a knight of the order and a descendant of the seer line who prophesied who the AC is.

It became a love story.

They were meant to be drawn to one another, over the course of the story. Instead, these two idiots liked each other immediately. I let them tell me their story, and this was one of the easier times I’ve had writing since the fan fiction.

And I really like them together.

So I didn’t fight it.

And I truly enjoy the story.

Obviously, as I mentioned, it’s only a first draft, and it does need some tweaking, but I let it sit for a while, reread it, and I still like it.

This is a weird feeling.

Satisfaction in my work.

I don’t have the longline yet and it’s not ready to be read, but I wanted to share this new story idea with you, and the feeling of having completed a new script. That’s a special moment.

So, moral of the story – good things come to those who wait. Just kidding. Keep track of your random ideas and story thoughts. You never know when a whole new story will “appear” (you know, through hard work).

Have any of you found/created a story you love from a decade(s) old idea? Let’s chat!

And Happy Writing!

19Feb2025

It’s Official. I Am Older Than I Have Ever Been.

Posted in Posts by Rachael C Marek

Photo by Nataliya Vaitkevich on Pexels.com

I turned 50 this week. Yes, you read that correctly.

Five. Zero.

I don’t even think it was a year after I started my blog that I wrote a post about turning 40. And now here we are.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the people I knew growing up who were in their 50s and I can’t believe I am now where they were. They were “old”. They were not just adults, but my elders. They had lived full lives, during decades of great change.

I’m still trying to figure some things out…including, “How am I 50?!”

I’m going to repost my 40 Random and True Things from my previous birthday post with a few updates, and add 10 more to celebrate this momentous occasion. ((insert laugh-cry))

According to my mother, I was the first girl born to my father’s family in 90 years. He was English (so I suppose it’s in my DNA) and gave me two middle names.
I was born in Canada outside of Toronto.
Evidently I was a born swimmer, jumping into the pool when I was about 2 with no floaties and no lessons. I’ve been swimming ever since. I love the water.
I once missed the bus because I forgot my pink elephant, Pinky, for Show-and-Tell. I still have it.
I’m still friends with a girl I met in kindergarten.
I used to sleepwalk occasionally as a child.
I had (still kind of do have) a fascination with fire, and was caught on a few occasions playing with it – like burning the back of the seat of my stepfather’s car. Oh yeah.
I did not like ketchup, until recently, but would eat tomatoes.
I used to have the horrible habit of rolling my eyes…at everything and once fought with my third grade teacher about the date. I argued that the calendar must be wrong. Wow.
I had hair that hung nearly mid-thigh and often pretended to be Madison from Splash – my hair was always green during the summer months.
The first boy I ever had a crush on was named Tommy, but I also thought Kenny Rogers was a “fox”. So there’s that.
Tom Jones brought me on stage once and sang to me. I still have the album he signed for me.
I was in fifth grade when we watched the unfortunate events of the Challenger Space Shuttle take off, and I can still remember it clearly.
I had my bike stolen in fifth grade from outside my house and I got in trouble for it. I wrote my first “novel” about running away from home because my stepfather was a jerk about it.
The book about running away was a school project; we were given a blank hardback book and that was what inspired me to be a writer – the book, not the story. 🙂
I was a ballerina for 16 years.
I once tried out for cheerleading, but quickly realized it was not for me. I joined the volleyball team instead, and regularly hated the cheerleaders’ perpetual perkiness.
I was the third tallest kid in jr. high behind two boys, Conrad and Dean. I was one of the three tallest girls in high school.
I topped out at 6 feet tall by the time I was 18.
I had to wear guy’s jeans until I was almost 20 because they were the only pants that had inseam length. I still have a problem finding clothes that are the right length; my sleeves are always too short, and pants a little high water.
When I was 14, I met my friend Jill at a church youth group camp. We thought we’d be pastors’ wives…oh how the times have changed.
My mother entered me in a beauty pageant at 15. I didn’t crack the top 10.
I did modeling in my teens and was told by a photographer to lose 10 lbs. I was 5’10” and 125 lbs at the time. I quit modeling shortly thereafter.
I sang in my junior high and high school choirs.
I’ve always had very long hair and when I was 15, I rode a go-cart without a cover on the engine. My unbound hair whipped in, and I lost nearly half the hair on the left side of my head. I ended up cutting off about 3 feet of hair to get rid of the burnt, mangled bits.
I had my first kiss at 16 with my best friend at the time, Eric. He thought we should lose our virginities together.
I didn’t lose my virginity until I was 29 and planned on writing a screenplay about it; the 40-Year Old Virgin beat me to it. I had a friend who suggested I sell “it” to the highest bidder, like a geisha and at least make a profit.
I played volleyball for years, despite not getting my varsity letter my junior year because I went on a French Club trip to see The Phantom of the Opera that coincided with state finals. I didn’t play my senior year out of spite – still so stubborn.
I did not go to my Senior Prom. The boy I liked thought I was going with someone else and didn’t ask. At our 10 year reunion he apologized. 🙂
I considered being a showgirl, but was told I was too nice for the business.
I was 19 when I discovered England was “home”, and the love affair began. I’ve only been back once since. Maybe that’s why no place feels like home?!
My brother and I thought about opening up a tea shop, and while in research mode, snuck into a tea convention. Such a rebel.
Titanic was the first movie I ever saw alone.
I went back to college after a 5 year hiatus and graduated 2 months shy of my 30th birthday.
I’ve been a vegetarian for 8 years. It was then that I discovered I’m lactose intolerant, but I’m never giving up cheese or ice cream! Now it’s been 18 years with many borderline vegan.
I haven’t been on a date in 5 years, as I swore off men until I got my career off the ground. I’m willing to lift the ban for the one who “gets me”. Oh, this is a whole other conversation.
I hate horror movies and country music. Don’t come for me.
I have almost every ticket from every movie I’ve ever seen at the theater.
I don’t like drugs because of the loss of control. I’m a bit of a control freak. I’ve “smoked” like 3 times and did shrooms once. It caused me to react with this weird hysterical laugh/cry thing that I did not care for.
Inevitably, no matter where I work, I get the nickname Princess. The Sis says it’s because it’s obvious. I’ve always felt a kinship to Cinderella.

And now the 10 new random facts. I’m going to try to be positive.

Pink is my favorite color, all shades.
Truffle and lavender are among my favorite flavors.
I have a like/dislike relationship with olives, melons, and BBQ flavored things.
The Sis and I got geek tattoos together for her 30th birthday, and now we have new ones planned for my 50th.
I used to decorate cakes.
I used to be the youngest among my friends and coworkers, for a long time. Now the kids under 30 I work with call me “Mom”. Yeah.
For as bad as my memory is, I can still recall two of the best meals I’ve ever had – Nobu in Malibu and Gary Danko’s in San Francisco.
One of the best things I ever did for myself – backpacking in Europe in my 20s.
Deserted island playlist: Enya, Muse, Hans Zimmer, Depeche Mode, and Lady Gaga. This was hard to narrow down.
Favorite “things” in the whole world – my two furkids.

I’m not sure what life lessons are to be found here, but if you need big sister-auntie-mom energy, I’m here for you.

I haven’t officially celebrated yet, that’ll be later this week, but it feels good to spend some time here with all of you. So, thank you! And Happy Birthday to me! ((insert laugh-cry))

xx, Rach

28Dec2024

Bye Bye, 2024!

Posted in Posts by Rachael C Marek

Hi friends!

Yes, I’m still around.

For those of you who have been with me for a while now, you’ve probably noticed how I sometimes go radio silent from time to time – I lose track of time, or I don’t have anything to say, or I move out of state, or find myself overwhelmed by adulting – this recent bout of silence was not actually due to any of those things, surprisingly.

While celebrating my blog’s Tenth Anniversary, I became quite depressed by the state of my writing life. Reflecting on each year and discovering how little progress I was actually making towards my goal of becoming a professional writer, I decided to take a step back (way, way back).

During these last many months, I didn’t have anything to say that didn’t sound trite or like I was just trying to placate my own perceived failures. “Keep reaching for your goal!” or “It’s never too late to dream big!” blah blah blah…every time I sat down to say something to not just inspire all of you, but myself as well, I would just think, “It’s all bullish*t. Where have any of those positivity quotes and bits of inspiration actually gotten me?”

I felt like quite the fraud.

So I avoided this space, a place I had dedicated 10 years to, to get my head back on straight, and it didn’t take long to discover a few things about myself:

I want to be a writer. Like really. I’ve been saying it for a while (and I actually do it most of the time), but it still holds true. It’s not just something I want to say I also do because my day job is crap and it’s a way for me to feel better about myself, like, “Hey! I have other aspirations beyond this, random stranger.” It’s how I want to spend my time. I want to be surrounded by creatives with similar goals and passion. I want some camaraderie and vested interest. That’s the circle I want to be a part of, not what I currently have via the day job because I’ve realized…
I hate my day job. Like really. It’s easy, mind numbing work, fairly stress-free and I only bring it home to b*tch with The Sis because she works there too. But I loathe going in (so does she, might I add), and am currently off on worker’s comp due to an injury, so there’s that. It’s a mostly friendly environment, I like quite a few of the people I work with, but it’s not a career, nor is it creative or inspiring. Recently, a coworker asked why I worked there. “You’re too smart for this place.” Well thanks! And maybe that’s why I’m unhappy.
I dream big (some might say too big. Me. I’m the one saying that.), but need to scale back the annual goal setting because I set myself up for failure each year because I want to do too many things all the time. I have too many interests. Too many goals. As I was writing down my list for the new year, I wrote that I wanted to write a novel, in addition to rewriting almost all of my scripts, creating a show bible, my reading/movie watching goals, building a website, researching my ancestry, playing the library of video games each waiting for their turn, relearning the piano, and continuing to learn French, while eating better, getting well so I can get back to yoga, doing more with The Sis and the puppers…I mean, c’mon. I’m out of control. Oh, and I have a Big Birthday coming up in less than 2 months, so there’s some planning required for that milestone.

((deep sigh))

I need a time manager.

I know I will never watch all the movies I want. I know I will never play all the games. Or read all the books. Or see all the sights in person. I may never even rewrite some of my own work. I have to learn to live with this, and for the most part I have, I just sometimes wish that the days were longer, or I was faster at doing some things to maybe make a bigger dent, but whatever, this is who I am.

So, you may be wondering, “What did she do this year instead of coming here?”

Well, I made, and exceeded, my reading goal. Favorite books this year were All Systems Red by Martha Wells (I’m obsessed with the Murderbot series) and Eye of the Needle by Ken Follett. So so good.

I made, and exceeded, my movie watching goal. Some of my favorites this year were the French sci-fi Vesper which needs its own series to expand upon, TMNT: Mutant Mayhem was adorable, Godzilla Minus One surprised me, and of course, Deadpool and Wolverine. It’s just a good time.

There was some great tv this year. Fallout was tops for me. Just good from start to finish, even if you haven’t played any of the games, it’s accessible. Arcane S2 was great, but I think season one was better. I discovered a different kind of superhero story in the British series, Extraordinary, and a hilarious Australian comedy from 20 years ago called Kath & Kim.

I’ve nearly finished writing a new screenplay, tentatively titled, Man of Sin. (Yes, I’ve been playing with a poster creator.) I’ll talk more about this later. This is the story that I think needs to become a novel. It’s taken on a life of its own, the characters are so cute together, and it’s currently sitting at 137 pages with no end in the direct vicinity. I’m hoping to have the first draft finished by new year. I also started a new chapter of my Dragon Age fanfic.

I’m almost finished with my first playthrough of Baldur’s Gate 3 which may have turned my head to become the best game I’ve ever played. Yes, it is that good. I’ll write about it next year, when I’m officially done. It’s going into the new tattoo. So yeah, you know I like it.

The Sis and I attended San Diego Comic-Con again this year.

And we had to come to terms with the death of our estranged father. That was…a strange time.

So that’s a peek into what I’ve been up to this year, and now it’s coming to a close. I can’t believe 2024 is at its end. It gets a little faster every year.

Photo by Kristina Paukshtite on Pexels.com

So, if you’ve made it this far, I just wanted to say, Thank You! for sticking with me these past 10 years and for being a wonderful community of the kind of people I want to surround myself with. I’m still not 100% sure of how I want to proceed here, I have a few changes in mind, but I hope you’ll stay for the journey.

I wish you all well, my friends! Stay weird and creative and inspiring, and hopefully 2025 will prove a fruitful year.

Happy New Year!!

xx, Rach

2Feb2024

Writing Prompt Challenge Accepted #28

Posted in Posts, Writing Prompt by Rachael C Marek

I was left in a bit of an awed state when I discovered I hadn’t written any flash fictions, aka risen to the writing prompt challenge, since October of 2022. You read that correctly – 2022.

What?! How?!

Eesh.

That’s embarrassing.

Up until now, I’ve been sitting on an abysmal 68 flash fiction pieces based on the writing prompts I’ve shared…of which I’ve posted 158. That’s not a great ratio. One of my goals for January, because I was counting it as part of 2023 ;P was to complete 80. Twelve more quick stories in a month. Sure, I could do that.

I did not.

The month got a little weird. I’ve written 6.

Here’s what I’ve got so far: 69-74.

Fate

There was something to be said about this place. I could understand why so many of my compatriots had achieved such success. It was a playground. The mortals were more than ripe for the picking – their pains, their desires, their strange compulsions – they were an intersting, odd bunch. And they were so willing to offer up any price to obtain what they believed would bring them the ultimate happiness.

They were so often mistaken.

When I arrived on their plane, it was because I had felt something. A pull at the center of my being. I hadn’t felt it in at least half a dozen millenia. I could barely recall what it was, but I knew I had to seek it out. Follow the draw.

I stood on a rooftop in time to watch the setting sun put off its warm glow. High above the throng, I could reflect in the quiet, could sense the sway. My wings twitched with understanding. Vengeance was on the horizon. Lust and vengeance.

Adamant

*This is a snippet of the fan fiction I wrote when we first moved. It was the story that had made itself known at the inopportune moment, and this image spoke to the loneliness, the isolation, and the weight that a certain decision put upon them.

In the words of her infamous friend, “Well, sh*t.”

Hawke had never been one to just take it. Whatever “it” was. She wasn’t one to wallow, although Maker knew she had enough reasons to, so as she sat down hard upon the ground slick with the remains of the demon she had just spent what felt like hours defeating, knowing she had been left alone in the Fade, she took a moment and allowed herself to grieve for the predicament she now found herself in.

She had turned a side-eye towards the Inquisitor to ensure her path to freedom, for it was she, alone, who had the power to change things. Having only met her a couple of times before traipsing through the Fade with her, Hawke had formed a kinship with the woman the world both revered and feared. Hawke understood better than most how a reputation could proceed a person. Like her friend and distant family, the Warden and Hero, the Inquisitor, too, was the kind of woman people wanted to believe in and follow, and it was one of the reasons Hawke had offered to stay behind – to be of service to the Herald.

It was strange. Hawke had never considered herself the religious type. She blamed Sebastian’s influence.

The fight had been one of the hardest Hawke could recall enduring, in part because she had been alone. Once the spirit, or whatever it was, that resembled The Most Holy departed along with her new friends, Hawke had been on her own to face down a monstrosity the size of The Hanged Man. That may be a slight exaggeration, but only just.

The moment she sat down the physical strain of the fight, the waning adrenaline, and the thoughts of Fenris made themselves known. Doing her best to keep her tears in check, she choked back both a health and lyrium vial, felt their warmth spread through her body, and watched the light show in the distance. The Inquisitor had made it out and sealed the breach behind her.

It was official. Hawke was f*cked.

Sitting Duck

She hated feeling so useless. She was tired of being afaid. Since the day she and her sister had been abducted, she had been rendered powerless. Ineffectual. Helpless. She had to rely on others with whom she shared no common, well, anything. She could call them aliens, but she was, in fact, the alien, and she was on a steep learning curve. Not only was she a foreigner in a foreign galaxy, she was being hunted at every turn.

In order to give themselves more options of where to turn or hide, they had been able to piece together a makeshift enviro-suit. It offered her some protection from the strange elements, but it was cumbersome, and she often times felt claustrophobic.

As they tucked her into the confined space, she knew that they had stayed too long. They had gotten comfortable, and she hadn’t taken advantage the time and peace had offered her. She could have at least learned some fighting or defensive skills so she wouldn’t have to solely rely on the others for her protection, as she was doing now.

She could hear the fighting just beyond her barricade. It made her stomach tie in knots. If she couldn’t help those who were willing to defend her, what use was she going to be in saving her sister? She was tired of being afraid. She hated feeling so useless.

The Stage

Artemis had been in the facility for nearly a year when the simulations began. It started out like school. She had geography lessons, language arts, world politics, and P.E. Then introductions into bomb diffusal, martial arts, computer hacking, and weapons training. Finally, they tested her resiliance. Her powers. She had to be prepared for any eventuality that she might encounter in the field, and with her natural skill set, the challenges were designed specifically with them in mind. They weren’t traditional training tactics. Not what you might endur in the military or even black ops, because those were created for normal people. And she was not normal.

Neither were any of the others she’d crossed paths with on rare occasions. She had to prove she was loyal before they’d allow her to interact with the others. So as she hung suspended mid-air in restraints crafted to hold both sides of her in place, she had to wonder what they would consider a show of loyalty. She had allowed them to poke and prod her for months. Torture wasn’t a word they liked to use, because they considered themselves the good guys, doing work for the greater good. Preparation. That was their end goal for her training. So, she let them mold her into the weapon they desired, test her limits, and extend her reach because, as they so often liked to remind her, she was destined for great things…and what was a life without purpose?

Photo by Tobias Bju00f8rkli on Pexels.com

Tombstone

After nearly a year of strange dreams, Hannah decided something must be done about it. Bits and pieces of people and places flashed in both her sleeping and waking lives, and while it was driving her mad, she also felt it might be the universe trying to tell her something. She did some research, using the few details she had been able to make out, and pieced together some semblance of an idea of a location. She already knew it was somewhere in England, given the moments she had experienced in her dreams. What she didn’t know was exactly where on the isle.

Or when.

From the look of the people she “interacted” with, they were dressed in the Victorian era – cravats and top hats, high collars and bustles – the streets were cobblestone and the manors weren’t age weathered. Because of the time period, there weren’t any markers to designate a town or any places of interest, so trying to determine where to find the place plaguing Hannah’s life was difficult.

With effort, and friendly and helpful people, she found the remnants of a manor she believed to be the place she had seen a hundred times in her dreams. Not far from London, in a manor that had not survived the bombings during WWII, she was finally able to walk the familiar stone path that led through the jagged remains. A stillness settled over her upon reaching the center of the manor. Familiar wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the feeling of finding home.

That wasn’t what she found unsettling, it was finding her own name on one of the tombstones in the family cemetery.

Conqueror

They called her the Red Queen. They said her robes were dyed in the blood of her fallen enemies. She was to be feared and revered, and most kept a healthy distance from her in order to avoid her wrath should they fall in disfavor with her. She was said to be quick of temper. She could drive one to the very edge of madness with the wave of her hand, and a look, well, it was rumored that should she will it, you would not survive one of her glances.

There was so much heresay. So many stories told in order to keep the peace, the balance.

She was nothing like what they believed.

At least not anymore.

There had been a time when she had used her powers to squash uprisings and quell unrest, but that had been hundreds of years ago. She was quite different now, and she supposed maybe it was a good thing so many still feared her and felt her capable of such violence. It had allowed her realm to experience years of peace while remaining vigilant.

But like all things, this, too, was to come to an end.

She had felt the disturbance long before her advisors had warned her of the impending threat. There were those who wished to challenge her, to test her mettle and see for themselves whether she was still the rightful leader. As she stood at the center of her most faithful and fearsome warriors, she was reminded of the dozens of similar times she had stood before them in other lives. She was unlike any of them, and would prove to those who thought she was wrong, yet again.

~ * ~

I haven’t had anyone join me in the writing prompt challenge in some time. If you made any writing goals that may benefit from trying something new, it would be delightful to read your inspirations based on any of the prompts I’ve shared.

Happy Writing!

31Dec2023

Bye bye, 2023!

Posted in Posts by Rachael C Marek

I’m sure you’ve heard it a few times by now, maybe even said it a number of times yourself, but this year flew by.

But really, it did.

With yet another multi-state move, it feels as if most of the year was dedicated to either leaving one place or getting settled in a new one. I still don’t quite feel myself, and I still don’t know where some of our belongings are. ((sigh))

Now that we’ve found a place to live that we like, are both working steadily so that at least we have a sense of financial stability, and have some sort of routine, and now that the holidays are nearly over, I feel like, what I consider, normalcy is within reach.

Optimism.

Knowing that the move was imminent, I set low reaching goals for myself this year. And I made most of them. I initially set out to read 17 books, because that was what I had done the year before (not trying to be an overachiever) but by May I knew that was going to be unattainable, so I adjusted it to 10. I read 11 and actually, to focus on a writing goal, stopped reading all together this last month, so, in theory, I could’ve gotten a bit closer.

I made my movie watching goal of 24 movies and actually exceeded it by 10. I’ll post my annual review in January.

I got my first screenplay professionally read in order to obtain feedback. I started fleshing out a new script, Man of Sin. I’m excited to share the idea with all of you. I started building my network, and have made some progress already.

I didn’t make my writing goals yet, but I also knew with the move it would take too much out of me mentally to focus, so I adjusted my timeline into January. We’ll see where we are in a month. Eek.

I have bigger goals set for 2024 and I’m crossing my fingers that I’ll be better at achieving them. As I’ve said a time or two before, probably because I shared a quote or five in a similar vein, start small, because even those small steps will eventually lead to grand results.

How did you fair this year? Did you achieve most or all of your goals? What are you hoping to tackle next year? If you’d like to share them below, we can try to help each other be accountable.

Hello, 2024! Let’s make you a good one!

I wish you all the very best! Happy New Year! Be safe and be well!

xx, Rach

11Dec2023

Celebrating My 10th Anniversary: A Retrospective – Year Nine

Posted in Posts by Rachael C Marek

So I’ve been dragging my feet. I need to finish this retrospective and get to other things, and at the same time, I’m growing tired of looking back on my life and seeing where it has and hasn’t gone. Yeah, it’s been a bit fun. It’s also been eye-opening.

I think I’m also over it.

I’ve been saying a lot of the same things for many years now. I’m gonna do better. I’m gonna make big changes. This is the year. Blah blah blah. I suppose it’s not a bad thing that I’ve been able to maintain this wide-eyed sense of possibility and optimism all these years, but looking back, it really is time to do better. Take chances. Do what I keep suggesting/recommending/encouraging. Actually BE a writer.

I mean I am. I am a writer. I just want it to be my full time job. (Another thing I’ve said a lot these last number of years.)

What I consider one of my better posts, from a year ago, was about this very thing. It was the “lie” I kept telling myself. I am a writer, despite working in dead end jobs, because in actuality, I’m in the dead end job to be able to be a writer. (Even when I’m not writing ((insert eye roll)).) Vicious cycle.

So, one year ago.

All right. Let’s do this.

I was blogging more, back up to 56 posts and my viewers were over 5,500. Better. And they were good ones, not just writing prompt images and quotes without context. There were details and links. Yup. Gonna give myself a little pat on the back.

I had completed the final rewrite on my troublesome child of a screenplay, Fate(s). I had rewritten my pilot, The Demeter, completed the first draft on my new script, Projection, while also finishing the newest chapter in my (now on-going) Dragon Age fanfiction.

Looking back, that makes me a bit proud.

I can’t say I’m proud of this past year, but that’s another story. I mean, we moved. Again. Across multiple states. That takes a lot out of a person.

I met with a screenwriting coach who assured me it was time to move back to California, and that was truly one of the highlights of the past few years. It was encouraging to hear that I was ready to take on the challenge of becoming a professional screenwriter. What is the challenge you may ask? Making friends in the industry aka network. ((sigh))

And now here we are, ready to reflect on the past few months in to the 10th anniversary. What an experience this has been.

In the post about the big “Lie” I ended it by saying: Why would you want to keep reading about my journey if I don’t have one? I want to thank all of you who have stuck by me all these years while I meandered my way. I feel like I’m finally getting it together, and do, in fact, have some news to share on this front.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you for all your kind words and support. Having you in my corner has helped me to keep coming back and allowed me to celebrate this achievement, I’ve honed my voice, and become the person/writer I am today because of it.

xx, Rach

17Nov2023

Celebrating My 10th Anniversary: A Retrospective – Year Eight

Posted in Posts by Rachael C Marek

We’re nearing the finish line. Whew.

This has been an interesting endeavor – reflection. I don’t want to get into the existential crisis I may be teetering on right now, but, yeah, it’s been interesting, to say the least.

And while it’s been “interesting”, it’s also been more time consuming than I would have thought, and I have so many other things I want to talk/write about. So let’s get to the finish line.

At this point we are well into quarantine. There was no where to go. Nothing to do. The Sis and I took a drive down the Las Vegas Strip one night and it was strange. Like end of times movie strange. The hotels were mostly dark, which rarely happens, and the streets were quiet, empty of people or cars, which never happens.

The world was in limbo.

And I remember feeling sort of lost.

I had quit my job in order to get ready for the move and then we just had to wait. And wait. And wait. After nearly a year, I couldn’t take it anymore, so we got ourselves together and moved to Washington State.

It was one of the most stressful moves we had. I don’t know why, but no matter how prepared I thought we were for the endeavor, it was still a bit of a mess. The stress also triggered the auto-immune disorder our poor little pup would eventually be diagnosed with.

Photo by Stanisu0142aw Pionersky on Pexels.com

Before I knew this though, we got settled, and I finally felt inspired to write. I was blogging again, and writing (probably fan fiction – don’t judge), and feeling more like myself. That year I posted 34 times, nearly double from the previous year, and there were some lengthy ones in there, and my viewers reached over 3k again (thanks for that!), and then…

One of our dogs started acting strange. I’m ashamed to say we thought he was just acting out, and later discovered it was a precursor, a warning sign. His tiny body started to exhibit all manner of bumps, lesions, and rashes, etc over the course of a handful of weeks. We were constantly at the vet until she was able to diagnose him with a rare disorder called Sterile Panniculitis. This moment in time sucked. He was so sick. His little body so battered.

Some of the meds made him a wee zombie and all I wanted to do was hold him. Babying him is not something I will ever regret doing, but it did often keep both hands occupied. I’m guessing I watched a lot of movies during those months, although I can’t find the list. Once we got his disease under control, we could focus on other things again. I shared helpful tips, inspiring quotes with a bit more detail about how it related to my, then, current state of mind, and some lovely writing prompts. I was feeling productive.

Because of my work schedule, I was able to read, write, and do yoga nearly every day before I went in. I was feeling pretty good. Accomplished. It was somewhere in here that I had this mental shift. I remember it vividly, just not exactly when. Typical. But I had this moment of clarity – I was going to be productive. And I was.

And it continued on into the following year. It’s what led to the big decisions that have led us to where we are now. Life’s funny that way. Strange twists of fate and the like.

I wouldn’t be here, reflecting on all this, without your continued support and encouragement! Thank you for the time you spend with me! It has meant, and continues to mean, a great deal to me!

xx, Rach