So last Monday my good bloggy buddy Lance over at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog tagged me in a blog tour entitled, “My Writing Process”.  Even though I am pretty sure my process is non-existent, I’ll play along.

Step 1:

Acknowledge the person and site who involved you in the tour.

Yeah, already did.  It was Lance.  Go visit him.  He rules.

Step 2:

Answer four questions about your writing process-

1)  What am I working on?

Shit, I’m supposed to be working on something?!  Hmmm, I guess a whole lot of everything and nothing all at once.  I had this serialized horror story going on for a while, but I kind of lost interest in it/go bored writing it.  Maybe I’ll pick it up again one day.  If you’d like to check it out, you can do so here.

I take a stab at some short fiction pieces here on this blog, but many times I simply just come up with an excuse to bitch about something or post about music and such.

Lance got me involved with working with Lefty Pop a few months ago.  I post snarky, sarcasm laden articles there every Thursday at 5 PM EST.  Here’s a link to my latest there.

Other than that, work and this whole planning a wedding thing keeps a girl pretty busy.

2) How does my work differ from others of its genre?

Not sure that I can claim a genre yet.  One day I hope to write something in the fantasy or horror realm and you can bet it will smart-assy in style.  I’ve also toyed with the idea of writing a fictionalized memoir.  Some aspects of my life have been seriously odd and entertaining, but they’d need to be supped up in order to create something someone other than my Mom would want to read.

3)  Why do I write what I do?

Because it’s what I enjoy reading.  I seek out blogs that post either smart-ass humor, rants, or something about music.  When I read blogger’s fiction (or books), I tend to veer toward fantasy and horror more frequently than any other genres; though I do read a bit of everything.

4) How does your writing process work?

Like I said, I don’t have a process of which I’m aware.  Maybe I’m too new to this to have really thought it through.  Having a “process” is something “real” writers have.  Right now I’m at Pinocchio level.  Maybe one day I’ll chop the strings.

Step 3:

Say who is on the week after (your chosen three) AND give a one sentence bio and link to their website.

Even though I’m unsure if they’ll want to participate, I’d love to see them answer the questions:

Sass & Balderdash  I find Katie to be a laugh-out-loud type of funny.  Her posts are super long compared with most bloggers, BUT they’re worth the entire read.  I can’t say that about a lot of blogs.  Go check her out for your daily snark and giggle fest.

A Blumes With a View Andrew Blumetti posts about the most random and ridiculous stuff ever.  He makes obscure pop culture references that are pretty damn impressive too.  Go visit his site and be prepared to LOL and Haha in large quantities.

Sebastian Gregory:  On the Written Path  You ever come across a blogger whose fiction is so freaking good, you just know that they’ll be scooped up by a publisher at some point?  Yeah, that’s Sebas.  He’s a real life friend who I always knew wrote, but never realized what a talent he is.  Go read and be wowed.


Featuring this tune today because in the lyrics it says, “right on, right on”.  When I set out to thinking of a “writing” song, this is what popped into my head:


Stay positive & love your life!



Went on a hike this Saturday at Sawnee Mountain.  Lovely!

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Solitary Creatures

Without a word,  she dropped to the ground. Feeling the earth beneath her feet, she whipped around; senses heightened by the feeding. Each small movement within the forest pierced her ears.

She hated this part. It was too much. It was all too much and yet it was nothing.

She moved swiftly along, careful to keep her footfalls light. The hour was coming when the forest would no longer belong to just her. She didn’t want to be around when it was time to explain.

Reaching the road she gave her body a full shake. Her long silky fur receded as she stood. She tossed a match over her shoulder and it instantly ignited the dry underbrush. All evidence would be soon lost in the cleansing fires. One more cycle under her belt. She watch the blaze pick up in her rearview mirror as she sped off.


“No!” she screamed, her body jolted awake, sweat soaked the bed. It had been this way every night since she’d lost him. The same dream replayed itself over and over.
Woods, running, crunch of leaves, time to go.

She’d looked back to find him gone.

A deep growl shook the trees. She called out over and over again for him.


She turned to slink back toward their site, but the brightening sky stopped her.

It was too late.


She threw her pillow over her face thinking of the trip back in the next day. It was stupid. But she couldn’t bear the thought of a blaze overtaking him. The dawn would be painful enough.

She’d found him, part of the forest now; his form one with the tree. He starred up at the sky keenly. His eyes permanently open to each passing cycle though he’d never transition again.



She ran, paws pounding the earth. She wasn’t even trying to shield herself now. What was so worth protecting? Her life? A life spent in solitude. No closeness. No one, just her.

She’d once seen a large shadow cross her path and she’d chased it,  hopeful. A Kodiak, its body was large and powerful but its mind was a mess of primal triggers and reactions.



She listened, her inferior human ears detecting dogs howling. They’d soon find the bodies, her bodies. They’d know it wasn’t a bear or a coyote. It was always too neat. Too clean. “Respect must be given,” he’d always said.

The sounds moved toward her and yet she remained, only easing away when their orange vests broke the tree line.

Close. She felt her heart pound, strangely satisfied.


“You know we are meant to be alone, right?”

She’d followed him through the darkness until the cycle was complete. He’d known she was there. She’d felt his mind edge into hers. She’d felt agitation, anger, but a bit of curiosity. It was enough that she’d continued on his tracks. She’d felt. And it was wonderful.

“We’re solitary creatures. So, leave me. Find your own grounds,” he’d said, slamming the door and driving away. She’d wondered if he’d felt her gaze follow him through the dust cloud.


Next cycle she’d stayed back, careful to stay just out of his reach. It was then she’d noticed the scratches along the bark and the scrapings that had left broken limbs behind. An invitation! Maybe she wasn’t the only one who longed for a bond with another.



The night air had felt strangely evocative, like it was willing her to climb higher, jump further, and stretch the boundaries of her nimble body. This was life. This is what she’d been missing.




Once you find out how it can be, how it should be, you can’t go back. She understood this now, like he’d understood it then. Those moments, that connection, it had been temporary; never meant to be. But there was no going back to what was and what was wasn’t much at all.

“You know we’re meant to be alone, right? We’re solitary creatures.”

She gripped the bark, claws digging deep. Her jaw clenched. She starred up at the sky keenly, ready and willing the dawn to come and for a moment,  as the rising sun warmed her, she felt loved.





Source: weheartit.com

710 words for Yeah Write’s Weekly Speakeasy Challenge.  Maybe this will be my new prompt home now that Trifecta has closed their doors.


Stay positive & love your life.




Listening to:

Random thought:  To be truly alone would be one the worst curses I can imagine.  To know connection and then lose it, alone again, maybe the very worst of all.



Trifextra: Scourge of the World


 scuttling across my floor with hopes of being undisturbed.


cowering over you, fearful.

Your antennas anxiously quiver

My nerves,  


Your movements,


Flip-flop cocked,  

nerves rallied.


 Safe for now.


This week’s Trifextra :

We are looking for a 33-word explanation of what scares you (or your character). We already know you’re intelligent, so, according to Paterson, you should have no shortage of potential subject matter.


It was a toss-up between roaches and spiders.  Both are horrid, horrid little creatures.



Oh Oh Oh You’re Magic: An Open Letter to Yoga Pants

Dear Yoga Pants,

As you well know, I have a drawer dedicated to housing you and all of your splendor.  Therefore, this letter is perhaps a bit superfluous;  but when you love something as much as I love you, it feels good to reaffirm your feelings from time to time.  You really are quite special to me you know. 

It seems like only yesterday that your butt shaping magic came into my life.  There you were, looking like an ordinary pair of black pants.  Little did I know that years later our love would multiply into many, many more pairs:  capri- length, a neon green waist band, shiny material, heavy material, a blue and white waist band, and so many other necessary variations.  I honestly never expected that I’d need you so much and in so great an assortment.

Others look at you and see a pant fit for exercise, but I know you for so much more.  Pajama pants?  Sure, you’re ever so comfy.  A trip to the grocery store?  Absolutely, everyone will look at me and know I’m one active, cool chick just in from some groovy meet-up where we discussed aligning our chakras and the benefits of juicing.  A wedding?  I say, maybe.  After all, when paired with a dressy tank and some heels, no one would be the wiser.  Cleaning the house?  Washing the car?  Whoa, let’s not get carried away.  Only if we’re talking about the faded pair from the Gap.  I won’t risk my Lululemons meeting with some harsh, damaging cleaning products. 

And speaking of Lulu, I’m even okay with the fact that you somehow improved upon your damn near perfect self and then charged me $100 for the new, improved you.  Way to step up your game.  I didn’t think your butt-lifting, leg slenderizing skills could get much better; I’ll admit I was wrong.

So keep being you.  I’m hooked.  You are a savior to girls everywhere who feel like throwing on a pair of sweats, but know there is a far superior choice. 


Hopelessly Devoted to Your Enchanted Fibers,



Yes, you really did just read an open letter to yoga pants.  And I meant every word of it (aside from wearing them to a wedding….maybe).  They really are a perfect piece of clothing.  I’m only a bit embarrassed about the number I own and my infatuation with those damn sorcerers out of Canada.  Luckily, last month I found a company called Ellie that offers some really cool choices for a lot less. I wanted to give them a test drive before I started raving about their wares.  Well folks, they passed inspection.

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**Here’s the part of the post where I’m torn about promoting a company.  It feels like a smidgen of a departure from this blog’s intent, but screw it; sharing is caring right?**

Fit is great, choices are fun, and the price can’t be beat.  Their monthly fashion club membership allows an outfit a month for under half the cost of one pair of pants from Lulu  And they stack up pretty well in comparison!   So if you’re hooked on the feeling only a pair of awesome yoga pants can provide, go check them out.  The banner below will save you 20% off your first order.  And I promise dear followers that this blog is not turning into a company mouth piece.  I really have to adore something to even consider promoting it.

Stay positive & love your life!



Listening to:  Royal Teeth – Waiting For You

Eating:  left over pasta

Drinking:  H2O

Reading:  “The Ballad of Helene Troy” by Lance Burson  Go check out his blog at:  My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog

Random fact:  I don’t remember the last time I wore yoga pants while practicing actual yoga.  Time to get back into it.  Running and lifting are hell on your flexibility.