I’m in the midst of a transitional period and have a few things happening at the moment. I’m not going far, but I’m taking a little break to get everything in order.
So stick around!
I wish I could say I were heading off to sink myself into a sandy beach marinated in mojitos, because that would be good for the soul, buuuut…hopefully one day soon. 😉
Keep working towards your goals and see you all soon!
xx, Rach
The internet, and myself included, were all in a tizzy this week with the announcement that in a new comic series, Steve Rogers #1, Captain America is actually an undercover Hydra agent.
Nope.
No.
Not having it.
Fans were quite rightly upset and for good reason. Captain America has stood as a moral icon, defending the defenseless against tyranny and oppression, and choosing the right path, regardless of personal cost, for 75 years. He’s the good guy, with no hints at all to his character to the contrary. Many fans believe this is just a publicity stunt, shock for shock value alone, and I agree.
With his rise in popularity due to two wonderful films in the MCU, I can imagine that there was a meeting in which execs and writers came up with a few “what if” scenarios, but as a fellow writer, I can attest to the fact that not all ideas are good ones. I can’t fault a writer for wanting to take a risk, especially with a character of Cap’s reputation, but taking a character with such a strong moral code and turning that on its head without any warning is just feeding into the mentality that the only way to be relevant is to be shocking.
We, as a people, continually exposed to all manner of craziness via the internet and the rise in dramatic, stunning television, I think, are the reasons behind such bold moves. In order to be noticed, we’ve resorted to becoming the one-uppers. Shows like Game of Thrones, The Walking Dead, and American Horror Story, among others, have risen the bar in the way of surprising their audience, and I thank them for it, but at the same time wonder if it’s not hurting us as well, overall.
We now expect so much more from all our media-going experiences, and this is forcing writers to do the unexpected often without reason. A scene like the Red Wedding in Game of Thrones had a great deal of build up. It wasn’t an out of left field surprise, although yes, it was upsetting. The stage was set, long before we arrived, with bread crumbs left along the way that led us to such an inevitable conclusion.
This is something as writers we need to be aware of. We can’t throw in a shocking twist just because – there has to be a reason, motivation, there has to have been set up. Audiences want to be satisfied, they also want to feel clever, and this is done by offering them morsels and insights they can piece together before the big surprise.
This offers us, as writers, a great challenge to think about the nuances needed to tell our story more effectively. If we look at the big picture, how can we impress upon our audience what is to come with a little foreshadowing? Is there a metaphor that could highlight the impending dilemma? Is there a phrase said by a character early on that offers such insight? Think of social media and how people dig into their favorite scenes, stories, characters, etc. to find more depth and hidden meaning (I have discovered a number of memes and the like showcasing foreshadowing I missed myself) and think of how happy it will make our audience if we can offer that to them.
I found this writing tip via Helping Writers Become Authors that offers the good and bad reasons to kill a character, but I think it can be utilized in regards to any plot device.
Let us not short change our audience. Let us give them the surprises they deserve; those that mean more because we cared enough to think our story through, and not just another tactic or ploy meant to incite emotion or a reaction. Let us also not short change our work or our characters. Be true to them. They deserve no less…and so does Cap.
Happy Writing!
There’s this weird thing that happens when you find yourself as one of the last single people among your friends, or when you reach a certain age and are shockingly, still unmarried. Suddenly there’s something wrong with you. There’s a huge hole in your life. You’re now being judged by the person that five minutes ago found someone not completely repulsive on a dating website.
There’s this weird thing that happens when people couple up. They discover they have a pitying facial expression that automatically pops up when they meet a singleton. They develop this superior attitude as if they’ve discovered some ultimate secret and are now determined to “help” you.
The other night, I had these two older male diners making small talk, asking if I was married, blah blah blah, and when I said I wasn’t seeing anyone, one of them had the audacity to ask what was wrong with me. The other asked if I was happy.
Really?!
Yes, I am happy, as surprising as that may be. I’m content being on my own at this point in my life. I don’t need a man to feel complete and fulfilled, etc. But clearly you’re just looking for some explanation as to why you’re not, as you’ve made multiple comments about being unhappy in your 25 years of marriage. Honestly, I was a bit put off by the whole exchange and was happy to see them leave. Why do people, strangers even, think it’s okay to say something they have absolutely no right or knowledge to comment on? Side note, this is the same problem I have with social media and the lack of filter most people seem to possess nowadays.
Two of my heroines never married – Elizabeth I and Jane Austen. Both were single in a time when it wasn’t exactly acceptable for a woman to be, and yet here they are, hundreds of years later, respected and revered for such brave decisions. So why in this day and age is my choice to not enter into a time sucking and emotionally draining relationship so unusual?
My last serious relationship was with a deceitful, manipulative philanderer. After a physical confrontation of a break up, I was turned off by the whole idea of dating, and for a while after, it made me reflect on my own faults at having been so twisted to suit his will. I didn’t think I could be so easily swayed, but clearly that’s what had happened and I doubted myself for some time afterward.
Now, I’m looking for something extraordinary. I don’t want to just date randoms. A) I don’t have time for that, and B) Take this as you will, I want more. You’re probably thinking, but how will you find that “one” if you’re not dating? Like I said, I’m okay building the kind of life I want on my own. I’m not high maintenance, but at this stage in my life, I am who I am, and it would take someone with a particular understanding of this to add to my life, and I haven’t met the one that offers that. This is probably why I write romance – so I can live vicariously through my characters.
This is a post of solidarity to my fellow singletons and a message to those of you who have coupled up and feel it your obligation to pair off everyone you know: Unless we say otherwise, we’re okay on our own…
Although, I am tempted to get some sort of sign for future reference – #TallGirlProblems 😉
Have a great weekend!
Yes, you read that correctly. Twice.
Thursday night I had the opportunity to see Mr. Las Vegas perform after a five year hiatus. I don’t remember seeing him in my youth, but he was such a staple here, I have this particular image of him in my mind as if he were an old friend, that I felt it a necessity to see him given the chance. And it was free. Bonus.
Side note, on my way to the theater, in true Vegas fashion, I met an Elvis impersonator in the elevator. Nice guy, but even in street clothes, so obviously a pseudo Elvis. Of course not the young, hot version, but the older, a little heavier-sequined jumpsuit-era version. My friend asked if I gave him my number. First of all, it didn’t come up. Secondly, umm did you hear me when I told you what version of Elvis he was impersonating…?
The room sat maybe 100 people, and the seating was first come first serve. The room was already full when my friend and I arrived, but an usher offered to seat us – three feet from the stage. Thank you, sir. We were seated across the aisle from his wife, and seated in front of a former Lt. Governor, while country music legends sat in the back.
Why does this matter, you may ask? My friend knew the former LG and didn’t want to pull out the flask from her purse to spike her drink. We also knew we wouldn’t be able to sneak out early, if we wanted to.
Wayne entered from the back of the room, and made his way down the aisle on which I was seated. As he passed through, he shook hands and kissed cheeks, and you know I wasn’t going to miss that chance. He greeted me with a big smile, said hello, and kissed my cheek. My friend was jealous. I just giggled. I mean c’mon, it’s Wayne Newton.
We didn’t know what type of show to expect, he’s in his 70s now. He started strong, singing and making jokes, saluting the military officers and veterans in attendance, and offering a glimpse at the old Vegas showmanship, but then the show took an unexpected turn. It became “this is your life”. His wife joined him on stage and asked him audience questions while he recounted his nearly 7 decades in the business, seriously, he started around the age of 4. I found it interesting because I learned a great deal about him, but had I paid the steep ticket price, I would have been a little upset.
Despite the lack of actual performance from him, I was glad I had the opportunity to see him in person. As he made his way off the stage, I knew he was going to pass us again, and my friend pushed me out of the way to get a little action herself. He still made a point to kiss my cheek again. Haha!
One thing I took away from the Las Vegas legend is that he doesn’t seem to have lost himself or changed to fit a certain idea. He is still just as kind, charming, and funny as he always was. He’s stayed true to himself. A good life lesson.
First off, I am thrilled to share the work of simplysimplymeblog, who accepted the Writing Prompt Challenge.
Remember, any time you’re inspired, please share what you create. You can either post it here in the comments, or on your own page, just be sure to link the post or my site so I know it’s out there. 🙂
A scenery so beautiful, that has become lost over time, it hides many stories of those who walked it’s path. Maybe it was of lovers, who enjoyed it’s peace and serenity, creating memories to share with those to come. Or of those who were parted by destiny, yet met here to maintain their promises, or of those who revisited in remembrance of lost lovers. The secrets it withholds shall be tied within its ageing beauty, as the old marks fade, the new emerge.
The secrets shall remain undisclosed, the mysteries unwritten, the abandoned scape still echoes the laughter and whispers of those who have gone …
~
Thank you again, Sobia for sharing your words!
I only wrote one flash fiction piece this week, because as I stated in a recent post, I was trying to make the deadline I set for myself for the rewrite of my pilot. I almost made it.
The Chase
He knew from the moment they had met that he would eventually find himself here – standing in a cell the other had once occupied. They had been playing a game of cat and mouse for years, years beyond comprehension, so it was no wonder one of them had eventually found themselves in such a place. He had lost track of the other sometime in the Victorian era, this must have been where he disappeared. There had been rumor of the man who did not age; he was the inspiration for a number of myths and tales, because he had the unlucky fortune of being caught. It was discovering the source of those stories that had brought him here.
The world continued to move forward, yet this place held the remnants of the world it had once been a part of. It still smelled and felt like it had hundreds of years ago, when it was new. He stood in the center of it, feeling the warmth of the setting sun streaming in upon his face, and smiled to himself. There in the stone, a set of markings had been painstakingly carved. The game was on, again.
~
I’d also like to share a little snippet of the fanfic I wrote the other day at work. It’s a WIP. It hasn’t been edited or rewritten yet, so please forgive any errors. For those of you unfamiliar with this topic, I am not exaggerating, nor am I ashamed/embarrassed to admit, when I say, “I am obsessed with (the video game series) Dragon Age.” One slow day at work, I just randomly started writing fan fiction. 30,000+ words later…yeah. It’s one of my goals to write for the series, in any shape or form. Just putting that out there.
If you’re interested in reading what I’ve written so far, chapters one and two are available under the “Scribbles” heading. There’s some adult content in chapter 2, so you’ll have to click a link to a site that confirms you’re of age. 😉 It was my first attempt at writing, oh, let’s call it what it is, smut. It was so much fun! Don’t worry, the following is smut free.
To be a mage was to be a bit of a show off. While we cast spells, we are alight with magic. We flash with a rainbow of colors, imbued with powers from the Fade. We twirl our staves in a great display. For any mage, their staff is an extension of themselves. It helps to focus our hits, it directs with greater accuracy, but it also needs to bear quite a burden. I knew with each passing fight, I was not only developing new skills, but I was also capable of more than I had been before.
I was stronger and my mana drained at a lesser rate than it had even a few weeks earlier. I knew it wouldn’t be long before I outgrew my current staff, but while in the Temple of Sacred Ashes nearly overwhelmed by heretics and creatures of every variety, I cringed upon hearing a sound every mage must dismay at hearing.
I twirled, casting spell after spell, some deadlier than others, when I felt my staff shudder, and in the strange silence that follows any flurry of spellcasting, the inevitable groan of the staff splintering under its current burden. I cringed. Many of the senior mages in the Circle still had the same staff they passed their Harrowing with. As I was quickly learning with my ever-expanding cache of spells, I wouldn’t be so lucky.
As we had finally found a moment’s reprieve, I sat in silence, despondent at the state of what I regarded as an ally, or an old friend. We had been through quite a bit together, and I would be sad to put her to rest. I gently traced my fingertips along the fragmented edge, thinking back on the journey we had undertaken so far, and how we had arrived at such a strange place, a hidden temple, a ruin.
~
*A special thank you to rooster82 at DeviantArt for the stunning mage Warden, Devene Amell.
Four years ago today, the second four-legged member of our expanding family joined us. The first arrived just the day before.
We found Loki on a rescue website, and knew the moment we saw him, that he was ours. After picking him up, the rescue called us to see if we were interested in adopting a second pup. Her new family had just decided to not show up, and she was in need of a home. The Sis and I had already been looking into adopting a second dog, so we readily, and full heartedly, agreed.
Phoebe came home the next day. 
*Seriously, look at those faces! We never stood a chance.
I’ve never had a “pet” that was mine. In my twenties, The Sis rescued two cats, one was mine, for a few months, until I moved back in with my family and then Bailey became hers. Traitor.
That is not the case with these two.
They’re a mixed breed, we call them “chiweenies”, but the two discernible breeds Chihuahua and Dachshund mean that they are loyal to only us and don’t really care for anyone else. I’m sure my friends find them annoying, they bark for some time when anybody enters their space, and although I sometimes wish they were a little friendlier (some of that may come later with age), they are my babies and have changed my life. I can’t say that for many people, even most of my friends.
I didn’t understand the love people had for their furkids, until these two entered my life. I totally get it now, and I’m thankful for it. Their happiness and well-being are my top priority.
I can’t believe it’s been four years. I’m happy to see them every day and bask in their attention. They make me smile and laugh with their crazy antics, and I would spoil them to no end if I had the means. During their first year with us, I wanted to keep a kiss counter. They received immeasurable amounts of attention, and three years later, that hasn’t changed.
And now, I should go and do something with them to commemorate this special occasion!
Please feel free to share images of your furbabies or stories of what they mean to you!
Some days I long for my childhood. Some days. Remember there was that thing…what was it called again? Oh, yes. Ignorant bliss. Our biggest concerns were homework and whether we were getting together with our friends on the weekend, or what have you. High school, and even college, were supposed to prepare us for adulthood, but honestly, I don’t think either of those institutions did their job properly.
I should demand a refund.
When you leave home for the first time, there’s this excitement (and delusion) about having newfound freedom, only to learn shortly thereafter that maybe, the whole adult thing, isn’t really all it’s cracked up to be.
In my college anthropology class, eons ago, I wrote a paper about how Western civilization doesn’t really have a “right of passage” for its youth. Yes, there are the time honored marks at 16, 18, and 21, but which of any of these offer you life lessons for your future? Where are our elders ushering us into this new phase of our lives? I proposed a class called Life 101 where you get an overall scope of the challenges you may encounter and how to deal with them.
Perhaps if I had taken such a class I wouldn’t be in debt. Maybe I wouldn’t procrastinate until there were (sometimes literally) minutes to spare. Maybe as an introvert, I wouldn’t exhaust myself trying to be an extrovert because I would have learned about my options, rather than finding myself cornered into my current situation.
Maybe.
It’s all just theory, isn’t it? Wishing that maybe we had been given the tools to live our lives better instead of just blindly meandering? How many of those things we’d like to change are just built into our DNA? Sometimes I look at some of my friends and wonder how they pulled themselves together. They were once like I was. What changed? Maybe they haven’t. Maybe they’re doing what I am – putting on a good show.
Sometimes I think of my life as a book someone is reading. We’re all stories, after all. They probably found the cover intriguing, but now, having forced themselves halfway through, they’re wishing they could put it down, but they just have to know how it ends. They’ve probably exclaimed aloud a number of times, wishing they could just slap the protagonist, but they can’t abandon such a tale after so much time invested.
My apologies.
I’ve written about this in the past, and I’m bringing it up again because despite my efforts, it seems I can’t make any head way. I’m still, months later, at that same impasse. I’m not one to wallow, I try to remain positive, but after a while, that becomes an exhausting endeavor when there is little evidence that change is on the horizon.
So I send this out into the world and hope for the best.
And I send this out to you, my friends: If you’ve ever made some big changes, how did you go about it? How do you stay positive? How do you “adult”?
I’m not really sure what happened to last week. I was here. I was up and mobile, but somehow, my computer remained in a dormant state. The room which houses it remained dark and almost imperceptible – like that thing you see out of the corner of your eye, and yet when you turn to view it fully, it disappears. My office was sort of like that, evidently.
And here I am, starting the new week off a day late. Sheesh. I think there’s an actual medical term for the state of permanent behind-ness. If there’s not, there will be one soon, and Marek will be somewhere embedded within that 10-syllable phrase with a picture beside it of me rolling my eyes. Maybe it will be slightly blurred from me shaking my head…I sometimes like to think it’s Fate’s way of keeping me out of harm’s way. Eh, it’s as good an explanation as any, I suppose.
Along our journey, we may find it hard not to compare our lives with other, sometimes more successful, or more put together, counterparts. In turn, there are those who may not grasp what it is we’re chasing. The above quote is a great reminder that we each have our own path (but may be a little late in getting there).
Don’t let the naysayers derail you from what you truly want to do. Dream big!
Have a great week!
While reading On Writing by Stephen King at the beginning of the year, I made notes, wherever was convenient at that particular moment – things I wanted to remember. I like getting a resource messy – highlighting passages, underlying things, and making notes in the margins because the book is a tool, and although I felt that way about On Writing, I couldn’t force myself to mark up it’s pages.
In some way, I suppose, the book didn’t feel like a resource. You know the kind. You ear mark pages, and put in little sticky notes out the side to refer to at any given time. His book was an easy read, a lesson, but not one I thought I would go back to in the same way. I don’t know if that makes any sense…?
These are a few of the topics that stood out:
1. Our influences as a child cause us to be “built” a certain way. I can attest to that. I was designed with a love for being swept off my feet and happily-ever-afters. Of course, that’s not how my life has been, but those are the types of stories I want to write, regardless of how un-feminist it may be considered. There’s enough darkness in the world, and movies are for escape. Besides, fads come and go, and the desire for a feel good movie will always be in fashion.
2. King noted that we write with one person in mind – the one we want to WOW. For him it’s wife, for me it’s The Sis. I never even thought about that until I saw the words on the page. I do remember how proud I was that one of my screenplays made her cry, just a little. She’s a tough nut to crack, and if I could get her teary-eyed, then I knew it worked. I realized with his words, that it was her I wanted to impress, not the masses. Although, yes, I want them to come running too.
3. When you’ve finished writing your story, ask yourself, “Why did I bother?” What was so important about this story that you had to tell it? This is a great note to post on your computer or wherever you write. Sometimes we get lost along the way, and this may help us remember the spark of the idea that instigated the story in the first place. I wrote about this once in regards to my last full length feature I was working on. I had sort of lost focus, hence the mid-stopping point. Now I know how to get back into it.
As I’m trying to be better about sharing what I learn (and I am so behind in that), I thought you might find these ideas interesting while shedding a light on your own writing.
Do they strike you the same way they did me?
Happy Writing!
After coming to the realization that I had accomplished very little last year, I decided to make some changes. Any time you want to do anything, you have to be ready for the change. You have to commit. Going in all willy-nilly only leads to failure and subsequent disappointment.
I wanted to be…better, in all aspects of my life. So, I decided to mix things up and create for myself a new schedule that would lead me to the things I wanted. I wanted to get fit, so I’ve made it a goal to work out every other day. So far, I’ve been pretty good about it, and I do feel better. I wanted to read more, since last year I didn’t read a single book, and I’m close to finishing no#5. I wanted to write more, and I’m on a third rewrite of my tv pilot, I’ve written more fanfic, and I’ve taken on more Writing Prompt Challenges.
Additionally, I’m working on the show bible and making headway into the many writing books I’ve had on my shelf for years to determine which are truly useful. The only “new thing” I wanted by now was a different job. I’m still working on it. Of course there are plenty of other things I’d like to do this year, but you know, one step at a time.
I’m not sure where I found this three step system, but I thought I would share it with you in the hopes that you can achieve your goals, writing or otherwise.
Because of the job situation, which has lead to monetary issues, I am unable to enter any writing contests this year, which is disappointing. Instead of looking at it as a negative, I’m trying to think of it as a gift – I have a year to get my writing “show” ready.
I printed out monthly calendars in order to set those benchmarks, dates when I want to have certain projects completed. I’m working with only three months at a time, so it doesn’t seem so overwhelming. I’ve tacked the calendars to the wall next to my computer to use as motivation. I’m a big advocate for visually identifying deadlines. Just holding on to the idea of a deadline somehow makes it feel less relevant. Seeing that April 15th (let’s just say) date circled, highlighted, marked in red, or what-have-you gives it more weight, makes it feel more real and impending, and sometimes we need that pressure to get things done.
Life gets busy. It’s easy to get sidetracked. Sometimes it’s comforting to get lost in TV and gaming, I should know, but in order to reach our goals and follow our dreams, we have to be relentless in that pursuit.
Not every step toward our goal needs to be a big one, even the small ones get us a little closer each day!
As you know, I love a good quote, so here are a few to keep you motivated:
And remember, it only takes a couple of weeks to create a new habit. 😉
Wishing you all the very best!
