November 2016 Day 11


Its an US Holiday today, and I allowed myself some time to lay in bed just stretching out my back and thinking over all I need to get done word-count wise for NaNo.


Once I got up and met with my lover (coffee) we had a discussion over where we are going with the novel for NaNo and then the words just flowed. 2683 in words today, bringing me over the 25k mark to 26668. Nice.


BlogHers blog prompt gave me more trouble, however. I didn’t know what ‘relationship’ to base my answers on. My ex, my daughter, my best friend?


So here is todays BlogHer prompt:

Nov. 11: What are five funny (but real) things your current relationship has taught you? (note: because I cant think at the moment, I have decided to split this up between my male, my daughter, and my best friend. There are funny things about all.)


1.     Men: No matter how old they are, no matter how ‘well off’ they are financially, no matter how mature they are – all men leave skid marks in their underwear.

2.     Daughters: No matter how old they are, what profession they chose to study, how many relationships they’ve gone through – they will always come back to momma, and the rule that they always come back with more than they left the nest with is true. Only, instead of children (grandchildren) my daughter has brought home a boyfriend and a best friend. I am tripping over bodies in this house.

 3.     Best Friends: You can live thousands of miles away, and they always know when something wrong. When together, the two of you are bad ass alcohol swilling wenches with foul mouths and ultra-attitudes that are full of confidence – unless there is some sort of small caterpillar like bug on the floor to which you both try to avoid, get near tears, until one of you takes a half of a roll of paper towels to pick that damn thing up and squeal while tossing it in the garbage.

 4.     Best Friends: No matter how worldly your best friend is (having traveled to Canada, Argentina and France) – she can come visit you in your home town and have no idea what the locals are saying with our thick southern accents, therefor looking at you pleadingly to translate.


5.     Men: Again, no matter how well off they are in life, age catches up to them all. Joking about how they’ve ‘lost that great ass and look like a bullfrog wearing britches’ will make that grown ass man nearly wibble to tears over the loss of that one great ass.



I know this wasn’t the proper way to work this prompt, but I really got stuck on it and just sort of winged it to fit me personally. I hope you enjoyed it.

Since BlogHer doesn’t supply prompts for Saturdays and Sundays, I will be substituting short stories in their stead! I have some wonderful story prompts to work with, so hopefully things will be fresh and new in my writing.

Or perhaps I’ll give some excerpts from Book Two, which I’m working on now!

November 2016 Day 10


Today I managed a very weird word count on my NaNoWriMo. I managed 2222 word count. I’m pleased with it though. I will admit, however, that the words and ideas are flowing a little slower than I would like. I can see the scenes and talks in my head, I just can’t seem to translate them onto the word document well. And its only day 10. ~face palms~ Oh, well. I’ll keep plugging away at it.

Now, onto the BlogHer NaBloPoMo prompt for today:

Nov. 10: Did you celebrate or commemorate your divorce or a significant breakup? Would you ever?


I did celebrate my divorce. Looking back on it now, twenty years later, I regret my actions and immaturity.


On the day I received my papers back from the judge and everything was official, I went straight away with changing my last name back to my maiden name. ON EVERYTHING.


Then, I went to work, did a little woohoo with my few friends and when the store closed for the night, we (a very large group of us) all went to the local bar we frequented and had ourselves a party. Tequila shots (my favorite) bad dancing and even worse Karaoke.


I kept up the party girl single mom out whenever I could routing for a few months before it got old. I tried dating. NOPE. So, I started doing other things. I put my time into my relationship with my daughter, worked on my cake decorating skills, focused on art and writing more and spent a lot of time at my parents.


Now-days, things are very different. That man I had divorced has grown up, become responsible, and we depend on each other for various things. I know I can depend on him, our daughter can depend on him.


I DO regret my past actions. But, I was young and stupid. I’ve matured and can look back at the many errors in my ways back then.


So, today, even though the prompt was kind of a downer, for me, things turned out wonderful in the end with years to form a fantastic relationship with the father of my daughter. He’s a good man. He wears his heart on his sleeve a lot, and gets hurt a lot, but I’m always there for me, no matter what.


I think that qualifies as a happy ending of sorts.


Be sweet, my lovelies

November 2016 Day 8


My word count for NaNoWriMo was much better than I managed yesterday. Its only a little after 10am and I’ve managed to squeeze 2567 words out of my head and into a nice chapters. Completely scrapped the old chapter that I had been working on. I was supposed to be ‘revising’ but this is turning into a complete re-write. I’m happy with the way I’ve changed things, however. I felt Book Two wasn’t being true to Addisons character. So, I’ve re-written it, bringing more of what was seen in The Road of Darkness back. Very pleased.


Now, onto the BlogHer prompt for today:

Nov. 8: If you could redo one moment in your life, what would it be and why? How would it change who you are now?


I would have never jumped the gun and gotten married at 18. It ended in divorce. A messy and hateful divorce. We are friends now, a great support to one another, but there are things that can’t be forgotten and words that can’t be unspoken even after so many years. We keep them tucked and buried away. We are both there for our daughter. She has a support system that was lacking when she was little.

The downside of this would be that I wouldn’t have my daughter.

If I never had my daughter, my life wouldn’t be the same at all. I probably would have fallen victim even worse to my mental disorders, been locked away and forgotten. I may not even be alive. I would have never been urge that one little step further to actually publish any of my writings or share my artwork.

I would be a sad little woman, probably bitter and cold to everyone, except cats. As a matter of fact, I would truly be a ‘crazy cat lady’ in some derelict neighborhood somewhere.

November 2016 Day 4


Howdy all!

So, I’m sitting in my coffee shop with a fellow Wrimo who was in the area and we decided to meet up to write together. It’s awesome.

Currently I’ve written 2861 words for the day for NaNo, and I’m still working on it!! I’m just taking a break to get my head straight a bit. Let’s get my blog challenge done.

Todays Prompt:
Nov. 4: Which fall shows should totally be canceled already?

You know, I have no clue. I honestly don’t sit in front of the television and watch new things. I’m not a couch potato. I have my favorites which I watch on Couchtuner. I watch The Walking Dead, Supernatural, American Horror Story and Vikings. I watched Hannibal to the end. I was sad that it was cancelled.

So, I really don’t know what else is out there. I don’t watch comedies. I used to watch all the crime shows. CSI and what not, just because …you know…RESEARCH…haha.

I also don’t sit in my living room to watch my shows. I never go in the living room. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice room with a 55” screen TV, but honestly, I am much more comfortable in my office. I can watch a show on the main screen, while talking to someone on Trillian on the other screen. It’s handy.

I have totally run off topic. I apologize. I’ve had to take a pain pill for my back pain and well, it’s left me a little loopy.

Out of the shows I DO watch…I think American Horror Story has run its course. I don’t think it should just be cancelled, I really want to see what happens in this fall season, but I think they should end it there. I don’t find it that entertaining anymore. It lacking something. It’s boring. I know they are trying to be creative and original in their storylines, but it’s all falling a little flat in my opinion.

I watch Fear the Walking Dead, which I think I had my expectations set a little too high for. It’s not delivering anything that answers any of the question in regards to The Walking Dead. I like it, don’t get me wrong, but I am wholly disappointed in it. I think it should be ended, and maybe give up a few things to help us understand The Walking Dead better.

Well, I guess that sums things up for me.

Best sweet my lovelies!

November 2016 Day 3

November 2016 Day 3

No NaNo word count at this time. I am actually in a Write In session as this is being typed up. Not everyone has arrived, so I thought I’d take this time to do my BlogHer prompt.

Todays Prompt:
Nov. 3: If you could be completely honest with no regrets, what would you say and to whom?

I would have to say my mother. Back when I was very very young, someone did something very terrible to me. Someone too close that did something very vile. I never said anything. To anyone. In this, I developed many mental disorders that I hid and tried to cope with as best I could, even resorting to self-mutilation, which I still tend to do to this day.

I should have told me mother. In not telling my mother, and all these …things…started coming out of me and my cracked and fractured mind and soul, my mother though she did something wrong in raising me. She took it as a failure on her part.

It wasn’t until my late teens that I tried to commit suicide and wound up in a hospital for a month. I went to a shrink, and HE blamed my mother, despite the fact I never told him this vile thing that happened to me.

So, all these years, she carried this burden that she had damaged me somehow. It wasn’t until I was in my late 30’s that I finally had a total and complete nervous breakdown and actually started getting real psychiatric help. To this day, I’ve not confided in my mother the vile thing. But now she knows it wasn’t her fault. Some of it was just me. I was born this way. Schizophrenic, major bi-polar, major depression with psychotic episodes and anxieties of all kinds. I even suffered through agoraphobia for a few years. It took a long time to learn to leave the house to a ‘safety zone’…and then expand that zone into more public places. I still don’t go grocery shopping at Walmart unless its 2am.

If I could tell my mother the terrible vile thing I would. But I feel like it would do even more damage to her than good. She’s old, frail, and so far away from me (She and my dad live in Guatemala as missionaries) I just couldn’t do any more harm to her than I feel I already have.

We all have regrets in life. I have more than just this. I regret how I treated my ex-husband when we first divorced. However, this is something that I actually have rectified. I apologized. When he needed someone, I was there. And when I fell apart, he was there. We are the best of friends now. I don’t know what I would do without him. Of course, yanno, still wanna kill him on occasion, but, guys will be guys.


Being Me: A short story (non-fiction)

This is from a three word prompt, however, it is a very personal piece. Its not fiction. These words hold truth, painful as it is.
The three words of the promp are:
1. degree
2. needle
3. Shoe


What kinds of things go through the mind of a mentally unstable person? A lot, I can tell you that. Some of it is deep, thoughtful and profound things. Other thoughts hold a degree of pure insanity.
The world is skewed to us blessed nutcases. We can see the whole wide world through the eye of a needle. We can hear music when there is none. We make our own.
We think and do what most would never do, especially in public. Sometimes we are shy, we don’t leave out protective cocoon. Other times, we are blatantly there, like me with my neon green watchband and shoelaces.
We feel things so differently as well. Torrential highs, and despairing lows.
Some of us find pleasure, or even release, in slicing a cool blade through our flesh, just to see the crimson pool and feel that little sting as the open wound hits the air.
Drugs. Not the bad kind. Or maybe they are. So many prescriptions. Cereal bowl in morning, cereal bowl at night.
One to shut out the voices, one to calm the heart, one to calm the nerves, one to dull the senses, one to keep you from ripping yourself apart. One to help you sleep. One to keep the dreams and nightmares at bay.
One to make you resemble a person, when really, you’re not.
I have the scars, I have the pills.
Still I have the fears and anxiety and depression and rage.
I’ll be the death of me sooner or later.