I hadn't even thought of this day till this morning, flipping through my e-mails and Facebook offerings.  I have thought of the significance of 2012 and yes I have let it sit in the back of my head like a headache or worry I'd rather not deal with.

So 12-12-2012!!!! 

A date and year translated as doom via our translation of the Mayan calender.  Logical me likes to think that maybe it was just the end of their calendar and not THE END. 

~12-12-12~ 

Numbers so devine and sacred that thousands of brides will marry on this date just because of the harmony this number shall bring to their holy matrimony.

12

A dozen roses. The number of months in our calendar year. 12 inches in a foot.  12 hours on a clock.  24 hours in a day (12x2=24).  And it can be evenly divided into multiple subsets; 12 breaks down into halves, thirds, fourths, sixths and twelfths making it a very dynamic number.

And it would have been just another day if I had bypassed my computer today and ignored the news.  Happily, I have begun to see 2012 in general, much the same way.  Just another year, with its good and bad, ready to lay down and allow room for 2013.

So I say numbers are devices man has come to use in order to make better sense of the world when he believes intuition and faith are not enough to do the job.  I believe following numbers to count our time here on Earth, sometimes feels like an attempt at shortening it.  And a day (or year) is what you make it.

So what does this day mean to me? 

December 12, 2012.  Laundry day, another Wednesday Blog post and 13 more days till Christmas. 

Cheers!


 

Insecure Writers Support Group: Self Doubt and Me.

So my friends and fellow members of the Insecure Writers Support Group, how do I get these out of my stomach?  How do the rest of you banish self-doubt as writers and creative beings?  As a human being in general?

Confidence builds in time they say.  And each jumble of words I put down should feed said confidence, right? 

WRONG! 

Sometimes I feel brilliant and inspired and many other times I feel halted and bound by self-doubt. 

Do I not believe I deserve to finish?  Do I really like running in place each time I get towards the middle of a new project?  I have written 125,000 word Fan Fiction stories.  I write without hesitation and in much detail when I post or comment on-line.  I have a million short stories and multiple NaNoWriMo offerings... 

So why do I feel like I have a rabble of Lepidoptera in my stomach when I sit down to the computer these days and a bound up head of ideas not able to escape? 

SELF-DOUBT!!!!!

Any thoughts to finding this beasts Achilles heel, please?

NaNoWriMo: What Participating Has Done For Me.

"I have never felt like I was creating anything. For me, writing is like walking through a desert and all at once, poking up through the hardpan, I see the top of a chimney. I know there's a house under there, and I'm pretty sure that I can dig it up if I want. That's how I feel. It's like the stories are already there. What they pay me for is the leap of faith that say's: 'If I sit down and do this, everything will come out OK.'"

-----Stephen King (Quoted in Writer's Digest Jan.2010 issue)

I am seeing the material produced during NaNoWriMo this year as Mr. Kings chimney tops.  Or perhaps misshapen bits of clay in need of deep cuts and rounded corners before it becomes the fully realized work I see in my imaginings.  I do know using NaNo to work out one of my WIP this year has allowed me to see said story a bit clearer.  I should .  I've sure as hell done enough digging.

Happy NaNoWriMo folks.  I hope all your writing goals are met this fine season.

Drive Even When It's in the Wrong Direction

I sit at my old fold top with a million and one varied and drastically tangled thoughts, wrapped not so neat in plethora of to-do lists. And this little bouquet of nasty seems to have created a traffic jam in my head.  A pile up, really.  A bash up where the realities of a young family and a old house and my creative aspirations have collided. Where my muse has left the scene, my fingers are at a stand still (except right now) and my imagination is on a bus to the ER.

GrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRR!

Okay, I will say this.  Maybe I'm not getting the word count I've been aiming for lately, but I'm still getting the NaNoWriMo word meter to climb.  And  maybe I didn't have a plan for my blog today, but I did choose to write something instead of skip out. And look, I came up with some sort of point...I think.

My point is just do it!  Pick something out the pile up in your brain, shake it off and begin it.  It's okay to feel overwhelmed.  It's normal to get bogged down and not feel at your best.  And maybe whatever you choose to begin turns out to be rubbish in the end.  But at least your further outside the pile up in your head and closer to.....something.   And never NEVER!!!!! sit and do nothing.  It's how muscles atrophy and it's how dreams die.

So I leave you with a quote I know I have quoted before on these pages.  A fitting quote from Alice in Wonderland... 

Alice: Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?

The Cat: That depends a good deal on where you want to get to

Alice: I don't much care where.

The Cat: Then it doesn't much matter which way you go.

Alice: …so long as I get somewhere.

The Cat: Oh, you're sure to do that, if only you walk long enough.

Should Ya Know My Politics?

I have come to the hard learned conclusion, politics is the great alienater, my fine members of the Insecure Writer's Support Group.

People you thought you knew become unrecognizable and differences you may have just talked through or accepted any other given Sunday, become huge gaping canyons of animosity when tossed into the context of politics.

Now, I like to think of my present and future relationships with my readers to be a friendly, non-alienating one.  Seeing people of different opinion and place in life participating and enjoying my world is a thrill.  I want to keep a atmosphere that nurtures that.  But at the same time I am no fan of apologizing for who I am or what I believe.

How do I stay true to me and yet keep all of you?  To all those conscientious fiction writers who manage a writing blog, how do you find the balance between the writing world and your personal beliefs?  Do you nix all discussions of politics from your realm?  Do you stay neutral when the "politics" hits the fan?  Does having a political opinions hurt a writers fledgling career?

I know this is a personal choice.  I guess I was just wondering if this was ever a dilemma for any of you out in ink and keyboard land?

And thank you to Alex J. Cavanaugh for thinking up this pretty cool support group/ blog hop!

 

Gooooo NaNoWriMo!!!!!

So true, Mr. King.  That lingering moment before you commit that first word to page and begin your writing journey is the scariest.  Our big ole human brain over thinks the process and leaves time for insecurities and fears to creep into the process. 

 

Think of your favorite literary hero's in this moment.  Think of YOUR hero or heroine.  Be brave for them for you are the only one who can bring their world to life and make them immortal.  Yes, you are that powerful once you pick up the writing gauntlet.

 

And so NaNoWriMo begins folks, giving us another chance to create new worlds.  So be brave.  Sit down.  Start!  And good luck.

Some Zombie Fun this Halloween

I would say if scary was fashion (sorta is), Zombies are whats in.  The LBD of sci fi and horror these days.  So in honor of Halloween I dug up a little Zombie Flash Fiction I did for a fest a couple of years ago.  It was my first Zombie fic and presently only.  By far one of the sickest bits of fiction for me.  But it was fun to try something new.

So Happy Halloween all! And FYI, NaNoWriMo is underway tomorrow. Writers start your engines!!!!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Illustration from 'Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark' by Alvin Shzwartz (A favorite!)

What Lonely Wanted

She was special. She was special before the world went into the shitter. Back in the day, any guy would have given their left nut to be with Missy McQueen and now… Well, Chaz Dooley was going to give a lot more.

Chaz leaned his shotgun against the steel gate forgotten, then tossed his jacket up on the fence never to be worn again. Stepping into the corral, a deep guttural groan greeted him from the far end of the paddock. Chaz smiled wistfully.

They had been together before; she was his second living dead girl. Hell, there were more living dead girls than the ones with heart beats these days, so a guy had to take his chances “dating”. Chances being cornering, roping and then gagging the date so extremities weren’t eaten. The rest was the “dating” part.

“Missy, I’m back. I told ya I would be back.”

Dark ruby eyes glowered from the shadows, sending a groin tightening chill up Chaz’s spine. Stepping closer he could see that she was nearly free from the bonds he had left her in earlier this week. Her long flaxen hair hung in clotted dreads and dirt. The last outfit she wore before her change torn asunder by her months questing for flesh and brains and Chaz and her ‘lovemaking’.

Chaz took in an adoring sigh and came up to his captive/loves gagged maw. “I missed you and now I’m going to join you my beautiful girl.”

This last month, life in Tulsa had taken to a whole new level of living dead apocalypse hell. Besides Chaz, only a handful of humanity was left within the city limits and with no contact from the rest of the world abroad it was looking pretty bleak. All of his friends, family, even most of his enemies were now dead or living dead. Just this morning his Mom wobbled by the house and he threw her a rat for breakfast.

Chaz was lonely and people like Chaz made lonely an obsession. He ached to be a part of something because the living crowd he was presently a part of was dwindling down to dust.

And when he ran into Missy or ran from Missy a month ago while looking for canned goods down 5th street, he knew he had found that something—that someone he was needing.

Missy had begun to thrash and gurgle. The gag in her mouth was now bit through in anticipation and the ropes anchoring her to the barn fence threatened to give. It’s what Chaz wanted. He wanted her to free herself and come to him—embrace him in her fierce primeval grip and claim him.

“Take me Missy.” Chaz raised his arms up and out, welcoming his becoming. “Take me—make me one of you so I’m not alone…”
And she did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some would say Chaz Dooley was a fairly sick SOB for loving a Zombie like he did. Others would say he was just crazy lonely in a world gone mad. I’d say Chaz found Zombie luv

Coulda, Shoulda, Gonna

I coulda not posted today.  To tell ya the truth I was looking to have some big topic on writing, some funny home spun yarn about my week, but nope, nada, nothing.  I am winging this post, but I am making one.

Regular posting on Blog = WIN!!!!!

I shoulda joined in on the writers challenge with the folks over at Romantic Friday Writers, but I realized I not only didn't have anything that fit the challenge, I also had no time to write something up on the fly and be good enough to share.  I am thinking I should have thought about that before entering said challenge, but I was so excited about joining in on something again, here in the Bloggerverse.

 = SHOULDA

I AM gonna join in on the NaNoWriMo action next week.  Honest Injun, I will take on the 30 days and nights of writing, however I shall be cutting the word count in half at 25,000 words and not 50,000.  I am learning my present limitations.  This is good.  But my limitations will not limit my aspirations.  I will continue to write.

=  GONNA!!!!

So coulda, shoulda, woulda my writing?!?!?!  Not gonna.

A Baby Changes Everything?

It is true. A baby does change everything…. Everything? Priorities change – check. Body changes – check. Brain chemistry changed and may never return – sadly, check. Home environment changes – double check. These things change because they must change. Pregnancy, childbirth and child rearing require it of me. But how many items other mothers put on the “change” checklist don’t have to change or shouldn’t?

 

Obviously if the above changes I named occur when one becomes a mom, you technically are living much of your life for your child and those changes are fine by me.  Part of that whole change in priorities thing.   But I believe that there are many changes, some small and some large, that are a matter of choice. 

 

I once heard someone say its time to put away childish things when starting a family.  So long, youthful hair gets cut short because of practicality?  Social life becomes trips to the grocery store and the occasional play date?  Heels become tennis shoes and couture becomes sweats and jeans?  Of course the sweats are welcome, because worrying about ones waistline or style has taken a backseat to grooming and growing your little family.  And a big one for me, pipe dreams become old hobbies and old hobbies become nearly non-existent???

 

I say no!

 

I say these changes fit into "matter of choice".  And what is wrong with keeping some "childish things" in your life.  Some of the smartest, most successful or just plain good people I've known still feed their inner child and have made the best of parents.   Because when you keep the things that make you uniquely YOU, the world and your children's world benefits.  Our children learn that its okay to be a individual and how important it is to have dreams.  They watch us follow those dreams, live our lives and enjoy the lives we have made.  And maybe in the end respect us as role models for doing so. 

 

I want James to have a mommy he is proud of.  I want him to believe dreams are possible because he has watched me work for one of mine.

 

So I sit here in suburbia, a rural girl out of water with my long hair and high heel boots, typing away at a dream. 

 

While a happy baby boy chatters away, just down the hall...

 

 

And the WIP Returns Once More.

I have been having a hard time starting back up my writing life. It starts up, sputters and then goes dormant for another day, weeks, months. The spark gets dulled by never ending housework, by continued renovations of a new old house.  My muse ignored, for the day to day needs of my new little family. 

Now I would never take back the newest changes in my life.  Right now, everything that's the hardest work are the best parts of my life. (Motherhood anyone?) But I would like to bring back some of what hasn't changed for me.  I still want to write.  And I still want to blog.

So I sit here with pen in hand (Original post written on back of junk mail earlier today) and I begin what is to be my next chapter in this life.  Where I am both mother, wife, home renovator and writer.  Where I learn how to balance these jobs because frankly I need to be all those things to keep my life a good life--a wanted life for me and my family.

Today, I come back to my blog very much a work in progress, still.  I have missed being here with all of you.  I miss being inspired and challenged by your own works and comments made regarding my own.  I regret not visiting often.  I hope to find all of you well and your endeavors continuing on and I look forward to being apart of your worlds again. 

Nicole Nicholson Murray, WIP