Melani Blazer

What a whirlwind.
My kid was gone all summer–BCT for the Army. You’d think I’d have plenty of time to get things done. Oh, what a laugh that was. I wrote her A LOT and found lots of really time wasting ways to well, waste time.

She’s back now. But we got news she’ll almost definitely be shipping out, as in deploying, October of next year after she finishes AIT during the summer.

That wasn’t what we wanted within 1 week of getting her back. Damn hard for a parent to digest when looking at a 17 yr old honor student with high hopes of college. Guess that’ll be delayed about a year while she “sees the world.”

Yeah, I only SOUND like I’m taking it well. I think I’ve half died inside trying to absorb it all. I’ve tried to work on writing in the last couple of days, but that’s not going so well.

Crap. Ferret into havoc. I’ll have diversions somewhere, somehow. I’ll push on. And likely spend the next 14 months enjoying the company of my “little girl” before she ships out.

To let you all know I’m still alive and writing. Summer’s always demanding on time. Got all those extra daylight hours and somehow there’s things to be done to fill them up. Right now I should be
a) doing laundry
b) fixing the desktop computer
c) writing
d) cleaning up daughter’s room so it’s not so frightening when she gets back
e) writing daughter a letter so I have something to send on Monday &/or Tuesday
f) writing–or thinking about writing
g) cleaning up computer room because it’s next on the list of house projects

oh, and h) thinking about what I’m gonna make for dinner considering it’s after 6 already. *sigh*

As for a daughter update, she’s past halfway her Army basic training–more like in the home stretch, although she does have several major challenges ahead of her. She called Friday night. Said she’d been named Squad Leader (mommy pride here) and eager and scared to embrace those extra duties. She’s passed her latest physical training test and did very well on her rifle marksmanship test. From everything she’s said, she’s still happy with her decision to join and is VERY happy she’s decided to do the split ops–where she does basic this summer, then comes home to attend her senior year of high school, then goes off next summer for her AIT (advanced training) which will also be about 9-12 weeks long (we’re getting a couple of versions).

So, done here. Gonna see about the above list.
Ciao!

Was gonna title it crazy from the heat, but with reports of lands south of us being a good 10, even 20 degrees warmer, I figured that’s not a valid excuse. Guess I’m just plain crazy then.

It’s been tough with the daughter away–and unreachable. We race for the mail and jump anytime the phone rings or beeps, hoping for word from her. The letters we have gotten from basic training are all positive. Wait, she said basic training was fun. Maybe SHE’s the crazy one.

As for me, I’m working, doing the normal housey things and trying to enjoy a little outdoors time in the evening after the baking sun is low on the horizon. Been writing–for a short book, my current project sure is kicking my ass! and also doing a little reading.

I’m on book four of a semi-popular para/sci fi series and have decided I’m not going to read any further. Aside from the Janet Evanovich series, I have never been a series kinda girl and although I tried with this one, and I really do like the characters, I can’t do it. I keep thinking the author is going to make things bigger and badder and weirder and of course the worse case scenerio ALWAYS happens to put the main characters in some kind of mortal danger and of course they get pulled out at the knick of time. While it’s not the same, there’s still a repetition to it. Four’s enough. Plus, there’s a bit of romance here and there that has on more than one occasion left me rolling my eyes, because, again, it’s another extreme.

On my next trip to the bookstore I”ll be trolling for some para/sci-fi’s that aren’t series’d out the yang. One or two works for me. Even if it’s not romance, and my reading appetite has been light on the romance in the last month or two, I still am ready to say goodbye to the characters after a book or two. I’m probably in the minority (aren’t I always?) but that’s my take.

Told you I was crazy.

Today Thunder, our little foster squirrel, will begin his big journey into the wild. We’re still figuring out how we’re taking him–the whole cage or just the house, but we’re ready. I hope he is.
Sure, it’ll be melancholy, but it’s also heartbreaking to see the little feller trapped in a tiny cage (as compared to an open forest) without room to run.

So Godspeed, little T. We love you and will miss you.

Evening edit: That was an adventure. We got his house up in the tree with him inside, and he didn’t want to come out. I can imagine him. Wow, big room! Lots of noises. We actually had to convince him to come out of his house. He did–and promptly jumped on me. This isn’t anything new, he liked to climb on us. It was almost as if he were afraid to touch the ground. Then he jumped. He explored around on the ground, then on some small branches, and finally into a tree. He climbed it ALL the way to the very tippey top and looked down at us.

I really thought I’d be all sad and cry, but I was actually so excited and thrilled and proud the way he seemed to take to the wild. I’ve got a pic, I’ll post… eventually.

They will come.

At least so says the inventor of the dildo.

(What’s the correct spelling of dildo… dildoe… anyway?)

Thanks, DH, for that cute little tidbit.

Our house has unofficial become the haven for strays. We’ve had a variety of cats (four of our own here now), the squirrels (of which we still have one that’s ready to go outside for good), Midnight the other stray cat, and now…Sasha the ferret.

When I got home tonight, my husband and the neighbor, Mike, are standing outside, smiling. They feed me some b-s story about capturing some big ass raccoon and putting it in the extra cage in my room. I knew that was a joke, but they kept insisting there was a new critter inside.
A ferret. A poor, weak and outcast little girl. Not sure of her age, but she’s weak, way too skinny and looks like she’s been stuck outside for awhile. Her coat is ragged and dirty, but she’s friendly. So we hit the local pet store and got a weekend’s supply with intention of calling vet first thing Monday.

I just can’t help but wonder how they know to find us…

I’ve had some real crazy dreams the last few weeks. People often say eating certain things, watching tv or other behavior triggers them, but I’ve never found any correlation between any evening behavior and those bizarre sleep stories.

Occasionally I can get some neat story ideas from dreams. Sometimes major, sometimes just a teensy thought that may or may not turn into something viable.

Last night? er, OUT there.
The setting: my parents old house–the one I lived in from age 9 til 18. However, the inside of the house wasn’t set up the same, and “my” room, was actually from the house I have now. Yeah, cuz a dream isn’t ever going to make sense, right?

My dream started with me getting out of bed (although it wasn’t morning–it was… nearly dusk) because I heard scraping on the roof. I knew it was because my dad had finally decided to start removing shingles to reroof. (Sense is NOT part of dreams, remember?) I got up, (was already dressed) and dug into my closet for my old sneakers (cuz I didn’t wanna destroy the new ones, and needed good traction to get up on the roof and help)

So I walk outside and see a skateboard laying there. Which means I knew who was there. (Skateboard? WTF?) In fact, there was a whole caboodle of people there, some sitting, some helping clean up the yard as the guys on the roof threw shingles down.

(Here’s where it gets even more stupid).
I walked up to my friend and his girlfriend. I knew he was “white vampire” (but I have no idea what that means here in the waking world) and had a feeling his girlfriend was a witch. I was worried about them here among my family–not that I thought they’d hurt them, but that my family would think them monsters or something. I talked to them for awhile. While we chatted, my grandparents pulled up in a car my grandfather hasn’t owned in YEARS, a 1970-something burgundy colored Cordova. By this time is was full dark and two young teens had set up candles in bags (like you see at halloween). My grandmother immediately said “No, absolutely not, you’ll attract the _____.” I have no idea what she said, but it was something paranormal and evil. I personally wasn’t worried with my friend and his girlfriend there, but I wasn’t going to admit who they were.

They (being who? I dunno) ended up hanging candles in the trees around the house to illuminate the area well enough to keep working. In the meantime, my Grandma started walking around the house dragging a stick. I asked her why. I knew she wasn’t… a witch or anything powerful, but had some knowledge about protections. She said she was making a circle to keep out anything evil. I knew the circle would harm my friend and his girlfriend (no, I don’t have names! I can’t even picture them). So I told my grandmother protection was already in place.

We all took turns pulling shingles off the roof. At some point, my friend’s girlfriend asked where my husband was. I said he was in bed because he was ill. (that was my own dreamlike a-ha moment). So she said she’d go see if there was anything she could do.

And that was it. Dream over. I’m almost scared to ask someone to analyze the funky crap that comes out of my head while dreaming. However, the people who know I write–and write paranormal fiction most of the time–just shake their head and give a knowing smile instead of threatening me with a white coat and padded room.

To my writer friends: I know you do this, but does it bother you when you go to the movies (or watch a DVD) and find yourself overanaylizing plot and characters and… everything instead of kicking back for entertainment’s sake?

I do. Here’s why….

Had a chance to watch Twilight the other night. I had…expectations. I hadn’t put them into words, but term cliche would probably be one of them. No–I hadn’t read the book(s). My daughter has. She’s talked about them to a small enough extent that my expectations weren’t swayed. Another vampire plot. How original could it be? I expected to find the heroine TSTL (Too stupid to live) and the hero overbearing, bossy, possessive and…unheroic. Especially since these were teenagers.
(more…)

What that actually refers to is my never ending source of self-excuses for my writing behavior.
I’m not justifying anything, but I really had these huge plans that I could dive in and get something done when the kitchen was finished. (insert maniacal laughter) That hasn’t seemed to happen. I find myself bouncing from idea to idea, always finding something more enticing to work on than the subject I told myself, promised myself, I’d finish.

I know exactly what went wrong with my intended rewrite/edit of an old book I wanted to resurrect. I never could get to a “place” where I had no distractions and could find the zone I needed to really hash the story line, character arcs and plot out in my head clearly. I was surface writing. Surface writing is shallow, often pointless and babbling and has little conflict and writing’s equivilant of stick people. NOT what I want to produce. Not what I can stand to go back and reread, if only to “catch up” and get back into the groove.
The last week or so I’ve been spending computer time typing in 80+ handwritten pages of a nascar themed story I finished last fall and sat aside. That seems to be going okay and I ‘like’ the story. Hell yeah, it needs work, but at least it’s worth editing and no burning.

When I can’t transcribe, I’m allowing myself to write random scenes from a number of other books/ideas in a notebooks. They’re creative outlets, hopefully jumping boards to other ideas or character development. I suppose it’s not the best way to go and it certainly isn’t churning out viable stories, but I’ve at least come to grips with the truth I think I’ve known all along. I can’t not write. My creativity hasn’t died. Reality has simply intruded and frankly…I let it. Now it’s time to figure out how to fight back.

Well, I’ve been busy–with the stuff that keeps most of us busy, that really annoying thing called real life.

My daughter, now a junior in high school, has officially signed to be a soldier. She’s joined the Army Reserve. She’ll complete boot camp/basic training this summer and then come back to finish her senior year, then do her AIT training (she chose chemical operations) and then onto reserve life. She’ll go to school, we’re looking hard at Purdue University because it’s not far from here and they have an ROTC program, which is what she wants. The military part wasn’t a surprise at all, because for the last 4-5 years she’s been talking about becoming a military pilot. This direction won’t take her there, at least directly, but she’s way excited about this path she’s chosen. It’s a huge step, but she’s been doing her research and understands her risks and benefits. I’m proud of her.

Thank you to whoever it was that sent me two really neat magnets from Cafe Press. They came to me at work, under my “real” name, so I assume it’s someone who knows me rather well. They arrived anonymously today. One has an outline of a soldier and it says “Real dads raise soldiers” and the other has a cat wearing combat boots and a camo hat or scarf. The cat’s standing up with fists at its sides and it reads, “Don’t mess with me, my daughter is in the Army.” I love them, and so does my hubby. (Who couldn’t be prouder for his daughter.)

I’ve started a series dealing with military guys, so I do anticipate picking my daughter’s brains in the next couple of years for terminology or simple “how things are done” from her point of view–hopefully I can use her feedback.

Shannon did a post a few days ago about following your heart rather than doing what others are doing or what you (or others) think you should do. I wholeheartedly agree with that, and have been following that piece of advise for the last year or so. It means I don’t have any new releases on the horizon, but I’m working on some things I feel very good about and I’m constantly rediscovering why I love to write. So many of us used to say that we’d write even if we didn’t get paid or didn’t see our book in print. I still feel that way. I also believe we’re all still learning as writers and I’m finding new ways to apply what I’ve learned and look at how to piece together a book.

I’ve had two friends recently tell me of their ambition to write a book. I always feel weird offering them advice, even though they’ve asked for it. Today I listened to the power and desire in my friend’s voice and told her that her drive was the key. I really loved to see the sparkle in her eye and the way she was stumbling over her words to get her ideas and thoughts out. Wow. That’s so inspiring. I told her to stay in love with her idea. Nourish it. Make notes. Believe and never let someone tell her that she can’t do it. Write every day. Write garbage, because it might inspire something better–and one can edit garbage, but you can’t edit a blank page. Read, read, read. I finally told her to develop very thick skin. No one every likes to hear that part. Huh. Thankfully I got that advice, and more.

And with that, I’m off to type in some more handwritten WIP and visit with the hubby.