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!

Beautiful mistakes? And your Monday Fortune Cookie, 1/12/14

How can you have a beautiful ending without making beautiful mistakes?

SNARKY RESPONSE: Well if we're talking orders of magnitude, then, my ending is going to be in 3D, surround-sound, techni-color.

How can you have a beautiful ending without making beautiful mistakes?

And a beautiful mistake is better than a regular mistake how?
Does it hurt less or more?
Is it less disappointing or worse?
Is it more instructive or destructive?


Is it just me or does this sound as if the Fortune Cookie Guru is saying "no pain, no gain" in a long and roundabout way? I can't decide if I'm impressed by the depth of this fortune or irritated by it's pompousness.

I guess it's that ol' "you appreciate it if you've earned it" mentality. If we've suffered for our goals, we'll be grateful. If we sacrifice for our happiness, we'll value it more. If we haven't seen the dark, we can't appreciate the light.

I seriously vote for achieving my beautiful ending without mistakes, beautiful or ugly. I think I'm able to appreciate the positive things that happen to me without having to be clobbered by a boatload of negatives first. What about you?

What the heart wants, vampires, and Your Monday Fortune Cookie, 1/6/14

The heart wants what it wants: an unending supply of human blood.

SNARK RESPONSE: First - EW! Second - and so do vampires. Third - you call THIS a fortune cookie fortune?

The heart wants what it wants: an unending supply of human blood.

The Originals on the CW

Been trying to catch up with The Originals on CW, so I've got vampires on the brain. Still in the first few episode, so please, folks, no spoilers. Certainly a very photogenic group of blood-suckers plus one witch. Or is she a werewolf? And a twisty dysfunctional family structure to boot. Still a little fuzzy about the who's who, but the setting, Nawlins, is always filled with promises of the bizarre and outre. Yep, definitely intrigued.

In fact, I'm thinking I may be doing some posts over at Tea & Strumpets for Myth Perceptions about the vampire myth and related tropes. So, consider this a little snark peek, er, sneak peak at vampires as seen through the eye of yours truly.

First, why oh why ARE they always so deliciously hunkadorable to look at? Of course, there is that whole seduction to obtain food thing. I suppose if someone less than fabulous wanted to nibble on your neck, you'd be more likely to think twice. And if you've got to live forever, it is preferable to do so in a body to die, or not die, for.

Second, if all  you can eat or drink is blood, talk about halitosis! How would you seduce someone if every breath smelled like an abattoir? I don't think Listerine would be completely up to the challenge, do you?

Well, I'd better stop now before all the vampire fans come after me with pointy objects. Don't get me wrong. I enjoy a good vampire story as much as the next one, and I'll be watching The Originals. For a while.

A good story can be a real killer & Your Monday Fortune Cookie, 12/30/13

What doesn't kill us usually makes for a good story.

SNARKY RESPONSE:  And afterwards, it's best told with copious amounts of alcohol.

What doesn't kill us usually makes for a good story.

Isn't it strange how often the sad stories, the difficult issues, and the painful episodes are the ones that we harken back to the most? Tragedies are infinitely more relatable than comedies. And, if you look closely at any comedy, you'll find the funniest things are built around a moment of pain, be it slapstick or satire, someone's hurting in there somewhere. The difference is that experiencing tragedies is more often private while comedies are public. We withdraw with sadness, but we fling ourselves outward with laughter. This is my observation and my experience.

As writers, we are lucky to be expected to break with that pattern and outwardly share both the sorrows and joys of our characters. Only if we convey the emotional depths properly can we hope to bring our readers the connection they need and desire in a good story. So, we hoard every experience, good or bad, recording the stimuli and response so we can remember it for the page. And what we don't or can't actually experience, we delve into our imaginations, building on the closest proximity, and creating the best facsimile we can.

So, writers and readers, take heart and this advice, when life hands you lemons, yes, you can make lemonade, but be sure that  you also take notes. Someone, somewhere, somewhen is gonna ask you how you did it. Trust me.

Wisdom? From Me? And your Monday Fortune Cookie 12/23/13

Wisdom is on her way to you.

SNARKY RESPONSE: I hope she's a lot more reliable than her cousin, Lady Luck! Marlon Brando immortalized that lady's unreliability in Guys & Dolls!

Wisdom is on her way to you.

Personally, I think Wisdom has opted to take the Grand Tour on her way to me. I get an occasional postcard in the form of a momentary burst of brilliance or personal fortitude, but mostly it's all kinda "wish you were here" from Lady Wisdom.

But I have learned this piece of wisdom - courtesy is never out of style.
Saying "thank you" is a simple two-word gift that you can give to anyone and everyone who offers you assistance and/or support.

Thank you, everyone, who has supported me in my writing endeavors - RichWriters, Writers Endeavor, James River Writers, Virginia Romance Writers, and especially all of the Strumpets of Tea & Strumpets! 

And thank you to my husband and family for everything they do every day to make my life more complete. Without you and your love, NOTHING would be possible. Love & thanks!

Best Laid Plans...Last Minute Shopping...Books!

Drop by the Celebrate with a Book event at Regency Square Mall on Saturday, December 21st, from Noon to 4pm! I'll be with a group of talented authors braving the last minute shopping frenzy to offer a dazzling array of books to help round out that Christmas list. 

 

 

 
This will be the first public appearance the paperback version of COLLECTOR'S ITEM. I'd love to see it nestled underneath Christmas Trees or tucked into Christmas stockings this year!

Stop by and say hello.

Diamonds, Tears, and Your Monday Fortune Cookie, 12/15/13

THE PLEASURE OF WHAT WE ENJOY IS LOST BY WANTING MORE.




SNARKY RESPONSE: Unless we're talking about diamonds. Just ask Marilyn.

The pleasure of what we enjoy is lost by wanting more.

I think this is a particularly cynical or perhaps puritanical fortune. Cynical by assuming that we're so unappreciative by nature that something is devalued by desiring more. I'd think that the value of what we have is increased by our desire for more. And that's where the puritanical comes in, we should NEVER ask for more than what we are given. Why not? We seldom get without making the effort to earn or ask for it. I'd love to hear your thoughts, pro and con.

Today's fortune is very apropos to this the final section of BY TEARS BOUND.

BY TEARS BOUND

His last kiss still warm on her lips, Annaree watched Erskine stride away from the village toward the cliffs.  He stopped at the edge where the cliff trail dropped below the horizon to wave before he turned to start down to the beach.

She stood staring long after he disappeared below the horizon, imagining his path down to the pocket beach, to the cave and to the discovery of his missing pelt.  She imagined his anger at her betrayal.  She had tried not to fall into the trap, but it had closed around her heart just as it did for every man or woman who had loved a selkie.

Unbidden images of their life before and after this morning rose in her mind.  The fading of shared laughter into the silence of betrayal, the passion that drew him to her turning to a desperate passion to return to the sea.  What had possessed her?  She had thrown it all away.

Knowing the realization came far too late, she drew a shaky breath, slammed the door behind her and ran down the path toward the village.

#

Annaree burst into her best friend's house.  "Maeve!  Maeve!  Where are you?"

Maeve poked her head around a doorway and frowned.  "What's wrong?"

"Where is it?"  Annaree demanded.

Maeve stepped into the room and jerked her chin toward a chest tucked under the front window.  "Not to worry," she said, wiping her hands on her apron.  "I've got it safe and sound in there."

Annaree threw herself to her knees and yanked the chest open.  For a moment, she stared down at the seal pelt, the reality of what she had done catching at her heart.

"'Twas right where you said it'd be," Maeve said, unaware of Annaree's distress.  "Had a real time getting it in that storm."

Annaree gathered the pelt into her arms and rose to her feet.  "I can't. 'Twas a mistake. I can't trap him this way."

Maeve reached out a hand as if to hold Annaree back, but stopped, hazel eyes clouding in sympathy.  "Even if you give it back, he'll never forgive you."

"He'll understand.  He has to understand.  He has to."  Annaree's voice cracked against the truth reflected in Maeve's eyes.  She shook her head, spun and raced out the door.

Oblivious to the surprised looks and shouted questions, Annaree ran through the village, her arms straining to hold the pelt.  But she refused to stop; she could not spare the time.

The village disappeared behind a curve in the cliffs and still she ran.  Storm debris littered the beach beneath her feet--crushed shells, dead crabs, foam and driftwood.  She stumbled and almost fell several times, but she did not stop running until she saw him standing on the sand, bareheaded, staring out at the sea.

She staggered to a halt at his side, gasping for breath, tears wet on her cheeks, and held out the pelt.

"I'm sorry," she said.  He did not move or acknowledge her as her words tumbled over each other.  "I don't know what I was thinking.  No, that's a lie.  I know exactly what I was thinking--I love you and I wanted you with me always.  Not just on stormy nights or foggy days or whenever you show up, but every day."

She studied his profile--the high brow, the bold nose and the line of his jaw, tight now with anger.  But he said nothing and she filled the silence with her attempt to explain.

"But when you left this morning, I knew I couldn't do it.  I knew I couldn't trap you here.  You're everything I asked for, but you're not mine.  So, here--take it.  I'm giving it back to you.  Just please don't leave me."

Again, she held out the pelt and waited.  He stood silent, so still he could have been carved from the cliff behind them.

The wind caught the tears that trickled down her cheek and tossed them into the waves.  She felt each drop that left her skin.  Just so had she cried the day she wove her spell and now she felt her tears unweaving it.

The man she had known as Erskine turned to look at her and she bit her lip.  His eyes held no warmth for her, only a cold flatness that cut her to the core.  Her arms sagged and the pelt slithered to the sand between them, a shimmering pile of brown.

He bent and scooped it up without hesitation, his silence eloquent, his face expressionless.

"Good-bye," she whispered to the stranger in front of her, then turned and walked away.

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 steal your heart from thee.

THE END

I hope you enjoyed BY TEARS BOUND. I'm sorry if you were expecting an HEA, but perhaps a future incarnation of the story will provide one. Maeve and Random Bay appear in my fantasy e-novella, The Festival of the Flowers: The Courtesan and The Scholar.

The poem that brackets the story leapt into my mind as I was researching selkies for this story. The Orkney Jar website spoke of the spell and Annaree's desire, dilemma, and disappointment were born. I just love research, don't you?

Sooo, do you agree or disagree that today's Fortune Cookie matches up?