That thin line between vision and hallucinating AND Your Monday Fortune Cookie, 1/20/14

Vision is the art of seeing what is invisible to others.

SNARKY RESPONSE: It's also called hallucinating, and you might want to keep it to yourself.

Vision is the art of seeing what is invisible to others.

Well, unsuspecting guests walking into the Fort Magruder Hotel this past weekend probably thought they might be hallucinating, or stepped through the looking glass, when they walked into the midst of MarsCon's Twisted Fairy Tales.

Look in any given direction and you might see Dr. Who talking to a Klingon or a trio of giggling fairies pacing down the hall or members of the Manticorian Navy looking for recruits. This year's MarsCon theme was fully embraced by everyone, including enterprising science fiction costumers. This science fiction soldier added wings and became part of Project Flying Monkeys.

In celebration of all things Dr. Who, there were multiple daleks and a double seating of a Dr. Who themed tea.

Along with all the fantastic visuals, there were a regular plethora of panels covering everything science fiction and fantasy. My personal bent being writing, I was most involved with Jim C. Hines and Carrie Ryan as the writing Guest of Honors. I even sat on a panel with them to discuss Fairy Tales in literature.

I also sat on several panels relative to Erotic Romance and two spontaneous writing panels where panelists had to rewrite their chosen fairy tale including some random aspects from the audience. These aspects included an extra character, an object, a setting, an obstacle. Nothing like a little pressure, right? The first was an Over 18 Erotic Rewrite and the second a PG Rewrite.

There was plenty of music with, I believe, four or five musical performers, including Danny Birt. Here he is filking. What is filking? Well, my research reveals that it is rather free-form and basically indefinable, but resembles folk music with science fiction or fantasy lyrics, though there are also filkers who preform other musical styles and themes.

This was my first MarsCon and I was doubly honored and thrilled to attend as a panelist. It was enlightening, entertaining, and exhilarating. I'm looking forward to next year!

By Tears Bound continues and Your Monday Fortune Cookie

TRY EVERYTHING ONCE, EVEN THE THINGS YOU DON'T THINK YOU WILL LIKE.

SNARKY RESPONSE: Except for brussel sprouts. Oh! Nor anything intentionally containing insects as an ingredient.

Try everything once, even the things you don't think you will like.

You might be expecting me to take back my snarky response, but I'm standing by it. Now that that's out of the way, here's the next section of my story, By Tears Bound. I hope you're discovering that, unlike brussel sprouts, you like this.


By Tears Bound

Dressed in a gown of flowered cotton, Annaree left her black hair loose about her shoulders.  When she dabbed a drop of perfume in the hollow at the base of her neck, the touch of the dropper sparked memories of other touches.

Gravel crunched outside and she stoppered the bottle.  Setting it on the shelf, she turned to the door.

A knock, and it opened.

Erskine stood on the threshold, his hat pulled low over his eyes, his smile a flash of white.

She forced herself to cross the room calmly, her voice casual.  "Why is it you only come to see me when a storm's brewing?"

He pulled her into his embrace with a laugh.  His cloak blew around them while the storm broke over Random Bay, sending rain and wind racing through the village.

"I guess the wind just pushed me this way," he said before his lips made conversation impossible.

#

Life in the village revolved around the pub during a storm.  Life on the beach depended upon hiding from the ravages of the storm.  And life in the house at the edge of the village consisted of languorous kisses, passionate sex and drowsy conversations.

"Tell me another story," Annaree asked, snuggled against Erskine, her hand on his chest.

"I almost think you bed me for my stories as much as for my dashing good looks," Erskine teased, his voice rumbling against her ear.  He yelped as she tugged on a handful of chest hair.  "I yield!  I yield.  What would you hear?"

"Another story of your people and mine," Annaree said, hoping her voice would not betray her.  "Something with a happy ending."

"My people's experience with yours seldom ends happily, Annaree," Erskine said.  "Selkie magic is linked to his pelt and that link is our greatest weakness.  We cherish our time as humans; the contacts we make are treasured and savored for their rarity and brevity.  But humans have persisted in using it to trap and control us for centuries.  And even without that, there's the spell--the one you cast to call me from the sea."

Annaree paused, the words of the spell rolling through her memory.  Standing knee deep in the waves, she had cried her grief for one man and cast a spell to call another.

With seven tears shed in the sea
I call a selkie man to me.
From the ocean far and wide
My tears will call you to my side.
With seven tears shed in the sea
I call a selkie man to me.

"To a selkie male, the tears of a human female are like ambrosia to the gods, and yours the sweetest I'd ever tasted."  Erskine stroked her cheek with one finger.  "Such sorrow, such longing, such determination."  He rolled her over onto her back, his brown hair falling forward to curtain their faces.  "But I've no complaints.  Have you?"

Annaree fought the urge to tell him, then shook her head as she drew his face down to hers.  "None."

#

Silence pulled Annaree awake and she tensed beneath the blanket.  Eyes closed, she strained for the sound of raindrops pattering on the thatch overhead.  Instead, she heard the faint notes of birdsong.  The storm had blown itself out during the night.

For a second, tears prickled the back of her eyes and she squeezed her lids tight, willing the moisture not to betray her.  Only when the battle was won did she open her eyes.

The pillow beside her was dented from his head and her questing hand felt a trace of heat on the mattress.  She drew a slow breath and rolled over.  He stood before the window, naked, staring out toward the sea.

Pushing herself up on one elbow, Annaree watched him, admiring his unconscious grace.  "I've never known a man so comfortable in his nakedness as you, Erskine," she said.  "Though, to be honest, I've seen only one other naked man in my life.  And while Donnie shared my bed and my body, he never would have stood so before my eyes."

"Why should I not be comfortable like this?"  Erskine asked.  He turned, his face in shadow, his skin gilded by the morning sun.  "Should I get dressed?"

"No!"  Annaree bit her lip, embarrassed by the breathless denial.  She smiled.  "No, I like it.  But I'd like it better if you were over here with me."

"You're a wanton woman, Annaree Velton," Erskine said, laughter dancing around the edges of his voice.  "I like that about you."

"It's all that sunlight, my bonnie lad."  Annaree smiled and slipped back under the covers to clear a space for him.  "Now come and show me how much you'll miss me when you leave."

#

I hope you enjoyed this section and that you'll come back by next week to read the conclusion of By Tears Bound. Until next week.

Offering you a story along with your Monday Fortune Cookie, 12/2/13

SOMEDAY EVERYTHING WILL ALL MAKE PERFECT SENSE

SNARKY RESPONSE: Yeah, and it'll be way too late to do anything about it.

Someday everything will all make perfect sense.

Usually, I try to write something loosely related to the theme of the fortune cookie, but I think it's time to change it up a tad. You know I'm a writer, and I've indulged in the occasional shameless self-promotion of my books. Well, I've decided to offer you, in serial format, one of my short stories, published back in 2008 - By Tears Bound. I hope you enjoy it.

By Tears Bound

Do not cry into the sea, lassie.

Let not your tears meet the waves.
For should the water of your eyes
Meet the waters of the sea
A selkie man will be called to thee.

"Storm coming," Annaree murmured as she stood on the cliffs overlooking Random Bay.  The rising edge of clouds piled up on the horizon drew an early twilight over the coast.  The approaching storm pushed the wind before it and dusted the tops of the waves with foam.

Earlier, the fishing fleet had scurried into the harbor, the fishermen beaching and securing the boats as best they could.  Now the men would be gathered in the pub, downing dark beer and telling darker tales of storms long past.

A gust of wind wrapped Annaree's skirts around her legs and tugged at the shawl around her shoulders.  She tightened the knot at her throat as she watched the sea foam scattered on the beach below.  Then, she turned from the cliff edge and headed down the path to her house at the edge of the village.  Her fingers grasping the knot of her shawl tight, she smiled.

Storm coming.  Would he?

#

Golden lamplight filled Annaree's house while she bathed in the tub she had pulled in front of the fireplace.  Lavender scented steam rose from the water to perfume the air and coaxed the waves of her hair into loose curls.  But the relaxing warmth of air and water could not keep her from straining her ears for the sound of a footstep, a knock on the door.

She remembered the first time he came to her, appearing on her doorstep ahead of a savage nor'easter that raged for days.  She had checked her supplies carefully and prepared herself for a long lonely wait when there was a knock on the door.

Thinking it might be her best friend Maeve Tillson come to check on her, Annaree rushed to pull the door open.

"Maeve, I'm a big girl.  You don't ..."  She stumbled to a halt as she stared up at the tall stranger in her doorway.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said.  "Can I help you?"

"I think it's more a question of can I help you?"  The man's smile was a flash of white beneath the shadow of his hat.  He held out a bundle to her.  "I believe this may be yours?"

Before she could reach out, a sudden gust of wind made the door shudder in her hand and she remembered her manners.  "Please, come in."

"Thank you."  The man swept his hat from his head as he crossed the threshold and tucked it under one arm when he paused just inside the door.

Annaree latched the door against the wind and turned to see him still holding the bundle.  "Oh, I'm sorry."  She took it in her hands and then froze.

Her hands identified the familiar bumps and knots, her eyes recognized the pattern of stitches--her shawl!  The one she lost the day she ...

Her head jerked up and she stared at the man.  "Where did you find this?" she asked.

"It came to me on the wind," he answered, his dark brown eyes holding hers.  "It came to me when you called me from the sea."

#

I hope you'll come back next week to read the next installment of By Tears Bound.

Steampunk, Ravencon, and Your Monday Fortune Cookie, 4/8/13

IN LIFE, IT'S GOOD NOT TO GET TOO COMFORTABLE.

SNARKY RESPONSE: But in shoes, it's crucial

In life, it's good not to get too comfortable.

This past week-end was an exercise in being comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time and loving every minute of it.

RavenCon took place this weekend. Three days packed full of writing workshops, insightful panels, and expanding friendships.

This year the theme was Steampunk and I jumped into the spirit of things by exploring a premise for a steampunk story with the help of writing workshops conducted by Allen Wold and friends. Allen's workshops are legendary and absolute Must Attends for writers. His panels always include folks with serious skills for critiquing the work of participating writers.

I began working on a steampunk short story to include two characters who leaped onto my fb page a few weeks ago--Lady Aimes and Professor Algenon. I am excited about the project and am determined to get their fb-initiated adventure on paper.

I've shied away from steampunk for a long time because (1) I am new to the genre and (2) because I am not mechanically inclined. I'm definitely not what you'd call "mechanically inclined." Yet, this weekend's conference gave me hope that with a judicious application of careful research, creative interpretation, and logical extrapolation, I can write steampunk. Stay tuned.

The writing panels and workshops were excellent, ranging from fight scenes to plotting to finances. The speakers provided information, entertainment, and challenges to one and all. I didn't leave the hotel until after 11pm each night. And believe me, the Con was still in full swing when I left!

And I can't begin to adequately describe the costumes! Klingons, anime, steampunk, stormtroopers, Dr. Who--you name it, they wore it. I should have taken pictures but my brain was whirling with all the writing info.

Leona Wisoker's Launch Party for her newest Children of the Desert book - Fires of the Desert was wonderful. If you haven't checked out her series, you absolutely must!

As usual, I spent time with a bevy of wonderful friends, renewed acquaintance with RavenCon buds, and made new friends. I enjoyed catching up with fellow writers including Leona, Leila Gaskins, Jonny Lupsha, Bud Webster, and Pam Kinney.

If you enjoy science fiction and fantasy, you should definitely put the next RavenCon on your calendar.

MONDAY FORTUNE COOKIE 7/30/12

"You are one of those people who goes places in life."


SNARKY RESPONSE: Yep. The Grocery Store. The Office. The Gas Station.

"You are one of those people who goes places in life."

Road Trip! Let's go. I love getting behind the wheel and heading off for somewhere, anywhere. Heading down highways wide or curving country roads, I don't care, just let me go. It's the end of July and vacation time is in full swing!

Niagara Falls, US Side

Whether it's a formal, planned trip or something spur of the moment, I can't wait to get on the road and head out.

In my tiny world, there are a few little routines that accompany even the most spontaneous adventures. Even something as mundane as filling the tank with gas becomes extraordinary.


Usually, I'm a "pay at the pump" kinda gal, but a road trip requires a foray into the convenience store. Simply going inside is a break with routine  and when I step through those double doors, that convenience store suddenly becomes a fluorescent-lit Aladdin's cave of treasures. Of course, the formally "stated" goal is to get bottled water, but there are all those aisles you have to pass on the way to the coolers. Aisle after aisle filled with tasty, high-calorie, low-nutrition wonders. Chips in shiny bags, candy in colorful wrappers, pastries peeking through cellophane windows, and other foodstuffs you'd never even think to drop into your cart in a grocery store.  Somehow, despite my best intentions, I always end up collecting a handful of crunchy, salty snacks along the way to that cooler stocked with bottle waters.


After the gas tank is filled and a bulging bag of snacks is stashed within easy reach, the other road trip routine is driving through the drive-thru to get a breakfast biscuit. Again, breakfast biscuits are verboten in real life, but there is something about heading onto the highway, breakfast in hand, coffee cooling in the cup holder.


Crank up the radio, we're outta here.


What's your road trip routine? Do you have one?