Erm...Hello?

Somebody give me a minute so I can wipe the dust off this place, and make it look like it still functions.

It does still function. I just do a damn bad job of making it actually function like it should.

Anyway.

Hi.

This is either a revival or a resuscitation or a bit of both. But we'll give it a go again, because I kind of don't know how to quit or give up. It's great.

Right now I'm sitting in a coffee shop, wandering through the Manuscript Wishlist and sending out queries for both FROST and TWO FOR THE RENT. Fingers crossed on that front. I've currently just run out of coffee, I'm craving a pastry, at some point I need to get bread, and later on today I'll go to work because second shift. Second shift is a bit brutal, at times, and this might be one of those days when I don't get home until 3:30 in the morning. Happy Weekend!

So. Let's try again. Because everybody needs a revival now and then, and maybe I'll put some CCR on. Or I'll just stick with country music.

Ear Worms

Hey.

I'm going to wander in and wander back out and pretend like I haven't been missing since the end of September. (I'm trying to be better. My writing has really taken a hit, for some reason, I just...I'd call it writer's block but it doesn't really feel like it. The ideas are there, I just can't seem to get them out.)

Anyway. Hello. Welcome.

If you didn't know, I absolutely adore The Piano Guys. I also happen to like Dave Matthews Band. This is kind of, for me, the best of both worlds. Have a listen.

The Haul and Wait

Monday, December 2, 2013 was the submission day for the fabulous Brenda Drake's PitchWars. (To find out more information on what PitchWars is, feel free to click the link - it'll take you to her blog and she can explain things a hell of a lot better than I can at the moment.)

Bottom line, if you have a finished manuscript that you're ready to query with, you apply for a mentor. They'll read your query and your sample pages - sometimes even ask for more - and then they'll give you feedback on why they did or didn't accept it on December 11. I know that's only five days away, but it's going to feel more like a month away, really.

I'm not very good at waiting.

The last time I entered a contest like this was during my semester from hell (I think) and I entered Sage, and I totally botched my applications, in all honesty. It was awful. Last year I chose not to enter, because I didn't have anything that I really, really thought would be worth it.

This time I offered up Matt & Topher like proverbial lambs. I've had some success with them in pitch contests on twitter, and I've gotten plenty of rejections with them doing e-queries, so I'm really curious to see how they'll do. It will also be an opportunity to find out what I need to work on - because there's always something that can be improved - and that advice will prove valuable even if, ultimately, the boys and I go nowhere but back to the drawing board.

In the mean time, so I don't freak myself out totally while waiting and obsessively checking the Pitch Wars hashtag, I work at the hotel (for a rather funny picture from Wednesday, check out my Instagram feed for the chalk outline from the kitchen) and I work on getting a little further in Frost, my re-working of Jack Frost that I started three years ago. In other words, I keep busy so I won't go nuts. So far it's working. Hopefully the next five days will go much the same.

Happy Friday and have a good weekend.

Something to Be Thankful For

Last week was Thanksgiving. We had, as per usual, a boatload of people in the house. We also had a boatload of people staying in our hours for the week, too. My aunt and uncle from Maine, my two cousins and their dog from South Carolina, stayed at our bed and breakfast (what we jokingly call our house in the summer because it's like a permanently revolving door twenty-four hours a day with who is getting up for work, leaving for work, and coming home from work...but that's a different story for another time) and we had something like sixteen or seventeen people for dinner Thursday.

I had to work. It was an utter madhouse at the hotel: we did 685 for our buffet dinner, ran out of turkey, and had fun with each other so we didn't go absolutely batshit crazy. Well, we went batshit crazy anyway, but the highlight of having to work on a day when we were supposed to be with our families - which people continually thanked us for - was sitting down at the end after all the customers had left and the dishes had been taken back to the kitchen, and having our own sort of family dinner from the left overs. We were all tired and punchy and it was one of those things that I'll hang onto for a long time.

What I'll also hang onto is that a week ago Monday was my twenty-fourth birthday. With all that happened this year - and it's been a rough year - I honestly, at some points, didn't think I would see it. But I did. And to be able to celebrate it, and look forward to another year patched up and ready to take on the world is something that will make this birthday the most special that I will ever have. I will always remember this one. Not because of the food or the presents, but simply because I am still alive.

My family, the jokers they are, have hinted they're going to get me a cow tag - like you can buy at Tractor Supply - with the number 23 on it. I have to say I really like this idea, and I'm hoping to find it in my stocking on Christmas morning. And if anybody asks me about it, well, I have a story that's stranger than fiction. But they say the truth usually is.

Hope you all had a happy holiday, and oh, hey, it's December. When the hell did that happen?

Throwback Thursday

(Try to ignore the fact that I haven't posted in a week...)

Spring semester 2010. This is my friend J who lived across the hall and around the corner my sophomore year. Yes, the wall is most likely holding me upright. I'm not the most graceful person on the planet on solid ground, and even less so on skates. But it was fun, and that's all that counts.

I still ice skate at least once a winter.

Things to Know VII

- If I hadn't already been totally happy with where I'm going to go to grad school, the fact that they called me this afternoon would have sealed the deal.

- I can't imagine what it cost them for that 11.5 minute conversation.

- That predictable American girl stereotype about British accents totally applies to this chick.

- I'm not ashamed of the above.

- The library gave me permanent volunteer hours on the first Monday of the month, and I'm also still a sub when necessary.

- I'm more excited than I should be to have library hours tonight.

- November is National Novel Writing Month.

- I dug out The Icicle Man and have been playing in that sandbox since last week.

- It's rather fun to give my recently-turned-human character the emotional mood swings he's experiencing.

- Though I do feel kind of bad.

- I discovered Star Trek: The Next Generation on Netflix.

- Due to the above, I can confirm what we already knew: I'm a Trekkie.

- I still cry during Star Trek: Into Darkness.

- I'm also going to cry while watching the final episode of Sherlock and therefore haven't yet.

- The next season starts in January and I'm not sure I'm ready.

- I have a cold, most likely can't take any old meds, and will be suffering through with copious amounts of orange juice, cough drops, and decaffeinated tea.

- All of my Twitter followers, you have been warned.

- I'm still waiting to hear back from an agent and choosing to take no news as good news so far.

- Don't ask me how many words I've written for NaNo because I don't have a clue.

Throwback Thursday - Halloween Edition

(I swear I will do an actual blog post soon. Promise.)

From Halloween 2007 it's Raggedy Ann. There was no Andy - I couldn't find him, and then decided I didn't need him - and that handmade red yarn wig was absolutely awesome. I had to lifeguard part of the IAC swim meet after school and wore that while sitting in the chair.

As for this year? Well, I'm rockin' out in my Iron Man arc reactor t-shirt my cousins got me as a gift when I was still in the hospital back in August.

Happy Halloween!

Things to Know VI

- I can drive again. (Considering I've had my license since I was sixteen, this shouldn't be a big deal, but it is. Trust me.)

- I'm back to doing volunteer hours at the library and loving every minute of it.

- It's friggin' cold here.

- I got accepted into my first choice graduate school - Anglia Ruskin University in Cambridge, England - and am waiting to hear from them whether they're going to defer me for a year so I can start January 2015.

- It feels really nice to have a goal to work toward again.

- I still haven't heard back from that agent that requested the rest of Two for the Rent.

- Because of the above I'm attempting to develop patience.

- So far that's not working.

- I seriously do wonder how the people who follow me on twitter find me.

- But I'm still not looking a gift horse in the mouth.

- Sneezing still hurts enough to make me swear in languages I don't even know.

- I have the attention span of a gnat.

Through the Looking Glass

My first legitimate college paper for my first history class was done via my first academic all-nighter in the lounge outside my first dorm room and I ate nearly an entire package of Oreos by myself. I was also pretty damn sure I was going to fail my upcoming Chem 110 exam, and then there was also exploratory abdominal surgery to look forward to over winter break.

Good news was that I didn't fail my exam, surgery went fine, and I later went on to graduate with a BA in chemistry.

During my sophomore year I wrote a blog post titled Definition. In that moment I not only felt beautiful, but looked it. At least to me. As someone who had played over a decade of competitive sports having a positive body image was, sometimes, difficult to manifest. I later read this same post aloud in front of a room full of my peers - while wearing that same flannel shirt - during National Eating Disorder Awareness Week. I did some tabling for NEDAW, too, as one of my good friends used to have an eating disorder. All of those involved worked hard that week putting up sticky notes with positive messages on bathroom mirrors, showing how out of proportion a life-size Barbie is, having an open mic night, and much, much more.

The bottom line is that women, men, people in general come in all sizes and shapes. There are those who fight constantly to look in the mirror and find one good thing in a sea of negativity.

Which makes it frustrating beyond words when Fat Shaming Week actually becomes a thing.

I'd like to be kidding. Unfortunately, I'm not.

To the men at Return of Kings fat shaming is not only acceptable, but something that must be done. In a recent post about the success of their week, cultural blogger and RoK creator Roosh writes: "Fat shaming is less about bullying individual fat people than reaffirming the fact that obesity culture is not okay in America, and attempts to brainwash people of that fiction must be immediately be destroyed with logic, science, and schoolyard insults."

It's things like this that not only make me lose a little more faith in humanity, but also drive home the importance of To Write Love on Her Arms, NEDAW, and other social movements.

As a woman and a person, I wasn't put on this Earth to be someone's object. My body is my own and, like one of my recent Twitter updates - found here - it has been to hell and back in the past two months. If a man isn't as fond of my wide hips and love handles as I am, that's fine. Nobody wears my skin but me, which is why there's absolutely no justification for anyone to make me feel ashamed of it.

RoK wants to change the cultural mindset of America. My advice is to start with their own.

Fascinating

I like to learn new things, and am, at times, utterly fascinated by this world. I like to know how to put thing together, how to take them apart, and how they work. The thing that both fascinates and terrifies me is my own human body.

Today I went in for an echocardiogram, which is, pretty much, an ultrasound of your heart. I got to see my own heart beating, watch it do its thing. Watch the valves open, watch how it worked. The scientist in me - which is a very large part of me, along with that damn innate curiosity that would put a cat to shame - absolutely loved it. The other part of me was leery of it, and found it kinda freaky.

I'm pretty sure I smothered that part of me out of existence for a little while. The woman doing my echo was really awesome, too, explaining to me what I was looking at. It was really, really nice of her. Might have helped that she knew I was a science geek, but I'm thinking she was the type of person to answer questions any of her patients asked about it.

But seriously. I saw my own heart beating today. It was one of the coolest - and freakiest - experiences of my life having to deal with my own body.

The other side of this was that I was also given a 30-day event monitor. My father has already joked that I'm "wired for sound" now. It has significantly less leads than my halter monitor from about a year ago, but I've already tried to accidentally rip one of my leads off. It'll take some getting used to, that much I know. We'll call it my new fashion accessory and leave it at that.

Cabin Fever

I think I'm getting Cabin Fever. And no, I'm not talking about the wine - though it's local, and delicious - but the fact that I've been mostly cooped up in the house since I moved back home after finally completing college. I had some sub jobs for a while, but it's going on two weeks since I last had one of those.

A few of my friends have suggested volunteering. I'm currently one of the on-call volunteers for my local library, and I have about one set day a month that I go in and volunteer for about two hours. It's really fun - I've already had my training night - and the library is one of those places that I love to hang out at between summer work shifts. Makes sense, considering how much I love to read and write.

Having all this time on my hands has been good for my writing, though. I've gotten at least 20,000 words written since I've come home, so my latest novel has really taken off much quicker than anything else I've written lately. I'm still sending out query letters for Sage, but nothing to the We love this and want to represent you NOW effect has come back my way. Here's hopin'.

I'm not sure if I told you all, but I applied for an internship for this summer. I'm really hoping I get it, and if I do get it, that means I'll be moving to New York City. Another way that I've been using this plethora of free time has been to look at rentals and apartments in the City. I think my best bet might be for something on Staten Island, and just looking at places to live has gotten me excited. But I can't move forward with that until I know about the internship, and I'm not going to hear about that until....I don't really know when, actually. It's one of those rolling with the punches, things.

Excess time on my hands means I have the urge to wander, too, though I'm not sure where I'd end up. Then again, I'm rather okay with that idea.

And, because I can't say the phrase Cabin Fever without thinking of The Muppet's Treasure Island and starting to sing that song, I'll leave you with this.

Better Late than Never

Seriously.

I know. It's been an interesting....well, closer to two months, probably.

Christmas was lovely. The whole holiday season was lovely, in general, except for when I nearly gave myself a panic attack really thinking the world was going to end according to the Mayans. As I'm still sitting here, breathing, and the sun keeps rising at the start of every day, clearly something was off in someone's calculations.

That and I kept trying to think about how they hadn't accounted for daylight savings and leap years and....yeah.

Anyway.

January saw me and my sister wandering through the streets of New York City. Festivities included the 12th Annual No Pants Subway Ride - we did not participate, in fact, we were damn confused when the people next to us on the platform started taking their pants off - a viewing of Avenue Q off Broadway, me wandering around for a media and entertainment day, and many visits to Starbucks and Times Square.

It was also where I got the idea for the next moment of brilliance. I applied to an internship with the Travel Team at The Huffington Post. They were one of the places we went to on media day, and it seemed to be a really good fit. So here's hoping.

I've also added another rejection to the pile for Sage.

That's where I'm at. Here's to a new year, and me crawling out of my blogging hibernation.

Crank It

I'm not going to lie, I'm having a hell of a time getting through this paper. But what's helped - other than some extremely useful suggestions from my professor - is that I've been cycling through some staple songs on YouTube. I get the feeling they're going to be the ones getting me through the next few days and my upcoming two exams.

And the rest of this paper.

In no particular order, they are:

Better Dig Two - The Band Perry

Blow Me (One Last Kiss) - P!nk (Warning: Explicit Content)

 Beer Money - Kip Moore

Live While We're Young - One Direction

 

Up, Up, and Away!

I cycled through a lot of titles since yesterday afternoon. Mostly to do with moving. Along with the occasional up or on tacked onto the end for good measure. It all conveyed the same kind of meaning and the feeling that one stage of life was over.

It kind of is.

Tomorrow is the last day of classes for my undergraduate career. The past year has been a long, long road, and when I account for the three full years before that, it's almost mind-boggling. And while the happy little voice in the back of my head is comparing what's going to happen after next Friday - when I move out of my little apartment - to taking a long walk off a short step in the dark, the larger part of my brain has already strapped on its helmet with a maniacal grin and a cheeky, bring it. Which leads me to my next, and probably most important conclusion.

I'm ready to move on. It's time. I'm ready for something different and new, and bonus points if it's exciting. I'm ready to tie up this chapter of my life and move on to the next part.

Which is why I can sit here, in a Starbucks about half an hour from campus for some downtime and a change of scenery while I work on labs and whatnot, and think back on what my nine semesters has been like. Those moments of sheer terror, in parts, from pre-season as a first year to all the medical mysteries my body decided to throw my way along with trying to survive four classes and two labs that first semester. Giving up a part of me I never thought I'd be able to part with the following summer, and then realizing it was okay to move on and try different things. Not playing soccer opened up a wide range of possibilities, and ultimately shoved me in the direction of going abroad to Wales. Which, a year later, I did. And I absolutely loved it. To the point where I'm contemplating going back for grad school, which, technically, would be pastry school.

Spring semester 2011 seemed to rock from end of the spectrum to the other. Oral surgery is never fun, and neither is losing a teammate that you've classified somewhere between friend and family. Nor was the tumultuous summer that followed. But I'm a firmer of what's meant to be is meant to be, and everything, eventually, works out. And it did. It just involved a basement-level GPA for fall, contingency plans for the spring, and realizing that a ninths semester was necessary.

Of course, having only one cup of coffee a day kind of sucks sometimes, but it works to keep everything in line and functioning properly, so I really can't argue with that.

And now here I am, in the fall of 2012 and looking back. I think I'm subconsciously trying to squeeze all the stuff I haven't managed to do - like get cited and robbed by campo while I wasn't there for fire violations, and parking tickets from the G-town police - in the last few weeks of my time here. And never fear, I've already paid my parking tickets.

Regardless of all of that, come this time next week while I prepare for my biochemistry final and hope to pull a rabbit from an unnamed body orifice - holy mixed metaphors, Batman, chalk it up to too much coffee and not enough sleep - I will be ready to move on. I'm not entirely sure what comes next, but I know that I'm ready for it. Whatever it is.

My lovely friends woke me up at two in the morning with confetti, silly string, and cupcakes on my 19th birthday. They were, and still are, amazing.

The summer after our first year, my best friend Em invited me to come stay with her for a week on Martha's Vineyard. It was the first time I had been swimming in the Atlantic Ocean, and her dad snapped this photo of us. Four plus years later, we still haven't let go of each other. I don't think we ever will.

Sophomore year. Sushi night. Moose imitations.

Fall of 2012, the semester in Wales. Behind me is Cadir Idris and the glacier-made lake. I proceeded to climb to the summit of Cadir Idris. My legs hated me for that when I finally got off the mountain totally about five hours later.

 

The first time I went on an Alternative Spring Break to Virginia. Loved it so much I went back the following year, and am planning to go again in some capacity. Perhaps they'll let me lead...?

Spring 2012, first time performing in the Vagina Monologues. A powerful night, and a lot of fun. And yes, you totally get over the fact you say "vagina" in front of a crowd of people about the fifth time you say it.

I'm not entirely sure where I'm going, and I'm more than okay with it. Wherever it winds up being, it's bound to be a fantastic journey.

Another Year

I didn't have a whole lot of time yesterday to do a whole lot contemplating on the fact I was turning twenty-three. Now that I can sit and really think, there's been a lot that's happened in a year. Having a dismal Fall semester a year ago, to digging myself out of a hole in the Spring, to having rather scary reactions to anxiety and too much stress - and too much caffeine - and then a summer of work, including into the fall. In between all that was finishing not one but two novels, and taking one further into a second draft, now working on a third. And now here, with two weeks of classes left in the semester and the thought that December will bring moving out of the little apartment and back home to wait four months to walk across the stage and get my degree....

It's been a hell of a year.

Hopefully, minus the medical aspects - meaning we'll be in good health - it'll be another hell of a year. 

Things to Know V: The First Week Back Edition

As we near the end of the first week back to class, I thought it appropriate to do a Things to Know. Because this week has been chock full of them. Some of them are funny and some are...they just are.

- From the outside of my apartment, the windows are street level. From the inside, they start six feet off the ground and require a chair for Louise to even reach the sill.

- The bedroom window doesn't open fully.

- That might be a good thing, in the long run.

- My kitchen table is dominated by a puzzle.

- The puzzle is not complete yet.

- I get roughly five to ten minutes of pretty church bell songs every three hours.

- Mostly because the Methodist church is right across the street.

- I required a slight tutorial on how to use my shower.

- It was frighteningly simple once I was shown how.

- Some things are easier the second time around.

- Always look before you put something in the toaster and push it down.

- Case and point: Having a new toaster. Cardboard left in it. Flaming cardboard and a screeching fire alarm at 8:15 in the morning on a Thursday.

- The apartment still kind of smells like smoke.

- Be wary of standing in chairs to flip the fan from intake to exhaust.

- Fall off the chair and nearly gouging your chest on the screws sticking out of the awful paneling in the living room is a great way to start the morning.

- While the fire alarm continues to blare and there are smoking cardboard remains in the kitchen sink.

- I met the Boy Next Door because I stress baked my little heart out on Tuesday and produced cupcakes.

- BND is rather attractive.

- Have I mentioned the apartment still kind of smells like smoke?

- Tonight feels like a macaroni and cheese and chicken nugget kind of night, but I really don't want to cook after the whole Flaming Toaster Incident.

- Capital letters are totally appropriate.

- I got all my work done for this week done by this afternoon. I feel rather accomplished.

- My writing workshop was not what I thought it would be. Rather than drive myself nutzo for the next however many months, I've dropped it.

- I do feel very, very relieved.

- NYS local Riesling is quite tasty.

- I kind of don't want to work tomorrow night.

- Mostly because I'd rather try and hope for dinner with the BND.

- I think the previous is and probably always will be just a pipe dream.

- Hope your week was as exciting as mine (but with no Flaming Toaster Incident).

Summer Jam

The phrase Summer Jam has a few different meanings for me - one more rooted in heresay and secondhand stories than anything else, and the other as the core of this post. At one point, Summer Jam meant a huge concert series about two miles up the road from my house that brought tens of thousands of people to the area and basically shut down the county.

In this case, it means I heard some interesting music this summer, and want to review my favorites and the moments that will always be linked to them. Much like that line in Eric Church's Springsteen where he says, "Funny how a melody sounds like a memory/Like a soundtrack to a July Saturday night."

So, yeah. Here we go.

Call Me Maybe: This was my manager's ringtone at work, so whenever the gift shop called to let us know we had a new reservation, this would blare from her phone. There were also moments when we would randomly dance in the kitchen, singing this at the top of our lungs. This was also the pick-up line for many a night when there were attractive, single men. (Not for this chick, though, I had to worry about not dropping cheesecake trays and whatnot.) Sadly, we did not make a boat version of this video. We should have.

Brokenhearted: When you work enough Teen Cruises, and have a best friend who is more than willing to indulge in the idea of mix CD's with you, this is what happens. This kind of became our Monday night anthem. Along with the next video.

Whistle: When Em and I first heard this song, it more or less....I dunno. We became attached to it. It's catchy. It went on our next mix CD. 

Pontoon: This is a Legacy song. As in, I will always be reminded of breakin' it down in the kitchen, belting the lyrics we knew, and just...this will remind me of two of the people I've worked with the longest at my job, and make me smile throughout the rest of the year. 

We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together: This is just catchy as hell. 

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is my Summer Jam. There are definitely others that will always bring up a memory or two, but they also contain enough F-bombs to blow my PG-13 rating like a popsicle stand. Have a good weekend, and most likely the next post will be from my new apartment in Geneva on Sunday.     

Almost Like a B&N

I'm not one for self-promotion - especially when it comes to my writing - but I thought I'd try something a little bit different.

Many of you have probably figured out that I'm a little stuck with Murphy and Me. Mostly because I finished Sophomore Fall and started Sophomore Spring to have an excerpt to apply for the Trias Writer in Residence Workshop, and I kind of haven't touched the new writing process really at all yet, and I've been trying to edit my way through the first 59 pages of printed manuscript. So that's kind of stalled out right where it's at and I'm not entirely when I'm going to be doing something new with it, since I chose the retyping the whole damn thing route in terms of editing. I was already leaning that way, my professor also suggested it....

Anyway.

Maybe some of you knew this - and maybe some of you didn't - but I have this tendency to work on more than one project at a time. That way, if and when writer's block (yes, it's a real thing, and really frustrating to work with at times) hits, then I'm not totally stuck not writing for however long it takes to break out of the funk. In some cases - like with parts of The Crossing, that massive thing in composition books - it could be anywhere from a couple weeks to over six months. Patience, when writing, is key.

I have other projects, other novels in progress, that while not in the same sort of genre as Murphy and Me are somewhat in the same style and voice. So I thought I would go ahead and share their blurbs, their links, and a little bit about the inspiration behind the story. That way, while you're waiting on Murphy and Me to do something or actually go somewhere - hopefully in the direction of a publishing contract - you might find something else you like just as much, maybe more.

Sage
Eleanora Hope knew from the tender age of four what she was destined for – she was the latest in a long line of Sages, those charged with keeping the dead beneath the graveyard ground – and she had more than willingly accepted the task at hand. At eighteen she was the youngest Sage, a byproduct of the passing of her grandmother, Lynette, fifteen years after the murder of Ella’s parents. And while the dead might deem otherwise, Ella was more than content with the life she had reconciled herself to.

Until Azrael and Aeryn literally drop in and introduce her to part of reality she hadn’t rightly considered. With two voluntary fallen angels – one who might not be as angelic as he should be – they turn Ella’s quiet existence as Sage sideways. Now with the possibility of an apocalypse and a power-hungry council of women after her graveyard, Earth seems to have become the proverbial war zone, and the lines between angel, demon, human, and Sage are more than a little blurred.

But if life weren’t complicated, it wouldn’t be worth living. And life for this Sage is far from simple.

Sage was born out of the cemetery by the Colleges and walking through there with my best friend and her camera in the fall of our sophomore year. It originally started out as my National Novel Writing Month story, but I didn't finish even remotely close in the month of November, and it's sort of turned into an ongoing project. 

The Icicle Man
Mari's life was to look after the animals on the small farm she and her mother kept in the New York Adirondacks. Other girls had come back from college looking to settle down, shack up, and raise babies. She'd come back to the farm and its simplicity. It was all she wanted. Until she met Jack. Or rather, Jack met her on her way through the forest to her grandmother's.

Convinced she was one of those piper-stolen children, he cages her into returning to his palace, for he is the Icicle Man, Jack Frost. Mari's not sure what to believe, but she knows she's no piper's child. Jack's plan, whatever that may be, is turned on its head when Mari gives him a challenge he can't refuse - what it means to be human. As Jack steps out of his centuries-old role, Mari discovers what makes the frozen Winter Prince tick.

And what it means to be truly human.

The Icicle Man started out as a play text - and is actually still in that form, as well, though not here, here is the novel form - and was started during my semester abroad in Wales in the fall of 2010. It's a retelling of the European fairytale Jokul Frosti (Jack Frost) mixed with a little bit of The Pied Piper. And a whole lot of fun.

I'm hoping that while I figure out what I'm doing with Murph and Ollie that you'll take a look and maybe find something you enjoy just as much. Or maybe you spam my inbox with messages looking for more Murph and Ollie and that will kick start me into writing them again. Either way works for me, truthfully.  

High Winds of Change

I moved out of that house on main street Tuesday back to the little hamlet that's always been home and breathed one hell of a sigh of relief. Another semester over. Two-thirds of senior year - because my senior year has three parts instead of two because I'm good like that - is over and hallelujah for that. The last three weeks got incredibly rough, including when my caffeine intake and subconscious anxiety decided to push itself over the normal threshold into something rather scary. I'm okay, but it seriously freaked me and everybody else out, so now your favorite coffee addict really only gets one mug a day, and to tell you the truth, decaf tea's not that bad. That and I'm making sure to keep a lid on my anxiety, which I hadn't considered a problem before now.

What's even more impressive is the turnaround my grades did in the wake of the semester from hell - Fall 2011 - to the point where even I'm proud of me. I sacrificed a lot to be able to put in the time and effort to go from a 1.33 to a 2.93 in a little under four months. I stayed in on my weekends (which, okay, not that big a deal because I didn't go out much on the weekends in general), didn't leave assignments to the last minute, and took my independent study as seriously as though it were a regularly scheduled fourth class. For the first time, I really felt like I had this college thing under control and was good at it. My exam grades weren't always great, but I had the material, and the professors could see I was working hard and all of it together was a combination that just worked.

My parents are incredibly proud of me for such a turnaround. And me? I'm happy.

Now if I can just do the same thing this upcoming semester, I'll be golden. But between then and now is a whole summer to fill with...Stuff. Work. Soccer. Refereeing.And anything else that comes up in between then and now. Mostly though we'll just roll with the punches and go with the flow. Which, you know, sounds great on paper and works ever better - or worse - in real life.

And, of course, there will be writing, querying, and whatnot this summer because I have a draft of a book and now it needs either an agent or a publisher. Hopefully both.

So. Hello summer. Bring it. 

Thankful Thursday

It's been a while since I've done either a Wordless Wednesday or a Thankful Thursday, and while I'm sitting here reading an article about working mom's that I picked off of Facebook - because while I really should start my two page position paper for my food chem course, I honestly can't bring myself to even open the damn document at the moment - I realized that I hadn't really talked about anything that happened last month (couple weeks ago, really) during Spring Break. I spent it in Virginia, doing community service in Pocahontas State Park (again) and I really enjoyed it. I did it not because it's going to look great on a resume, but because I enjoy doing things for other people and get a good feeling when somebody benefits from something I can do for them.

And, while I have no idea the true cause for this, I would happily weed somebody else's flower beds but the ones in front of my house. I honestly don't know why, but hey, I think that's the feeling a lot of people have.

The thankful part comes in because I'm thankful I had the opportunity to spend my break doing something like this - working in the middle of the woods with people who's lives are pretty much an episode of Parks and Recreation in the making - and it was fun to meet and have to live with different people.