Yes! I am immensely proud to announce that I was just congratulated on my second Honorable Mention in THE WRITERS OF THE FUTURE Contest. That's three quarters entered, two honorable mentions. Yeah, I'm stoked! Even more so because they said I have talent. Oh baby! It's all up from here.

(Thanks and appreciation go out to all INK members for their critiques, Lake & Scholes for unknowingly influencing me to explore Speculative Fiction writing, and to The Husband for inspiring the original short story.)

I finished most of that reading I needed to get to yesterday like a good girl. I haven't started on the two books I want to complete by month's end and I've just remembered I need to ask about getting a hard copy of another ms I should read very, very soon. It'll be hot here over the weekend and since I need to keep The Husband cool, that's as good a time as any to race through what my eyes need to see.

Because it's not hot today, I spent half an hour out back in my little piece of heaven scooping up dead Oregon grape leaves and snapping off spent day lilies. And wouldn't you know it? I thought of another angle, a different direction I could take J&T, that short story I started just before I decided I needed more writing education and less flailing about trying to squeeze out something that doesn't have a clear beginning, middle, or end. Not that there's anything too wrong with that style, I'm told. Still haven't sold anything because of it though.

So I jotted down my thoughts and then dug out J&T and read it aloud to myself and the cats (my unconditional fans to the end), added a few words here and there, and thought, "This isn't half bad for an 800 word beginning (a beginning because I'm saying it is)." But is it really the story I want to write? What about the other direction that came to me earlier out in the back yard where I seem to find really good ideas?

Well, I can write that one too if I want. Sure, twice the work but twice the stories. I can decide which one is better in the end and who knows, maybe I'll find markets for both. At the very least, I could use one for all the crappy words and save the best for the other. It's possible. I'm sure it is.

Didn't write today (Hey! It's still early. Kind of.)

Finished most of my research for the J&L short story which made me think of another story idea, though naturally without an end. Geez, that gets old. My brain just has the worst time figuring out endings! But I think I've got a title this time around, a real title even!

Gained another rejection last night. No worries. It was another nice one. Haven't sent that story back out yet. It's home doing laundry as I type this. A big load of mismatched socks I think. Might take days.

Meanwhile, I've still got a few stories out there; one overseas for an anthology that I haven't heard a peep on since last October (a very reputable author told me keep writing and not to worry or query until it hits the one year mark), a couple are in slush piles (I hope), and a couple are getting the eyeball treatment by some more reputable authors.

Come November, I'm attending OryCon 30 in Portland, Oregon (I'm running the late night Open Read & Critiques actually, like last year). A couple of weeks ago I committed to attend next February's RadCon 5a in Pasco, Wa (Go RadCon!), am still toying with attending RustyCon in January (the weather and expenses at the time will be a factor for me), and this morning I confirmed my attendance and booked a cabin at Rainforest Writers Village put on by tbclone47 up at Lake Quinault next March.

After that, I'm probably going to have to lay low for a while to recharge my energy and restock the wallet. But still, Rainforest Writers! Sure, it's not Viable Paradise, or Odyssey, or Clarion West even but it's a start and I feel, the next logical step for me at my stage of writing.

Rainforest Writers Retreat sounds low-key (please let it be low-key) and productive. Doesn't sound scary like VP, O, and Clarion sounds (to me anyway) and I can just afford it. Now all I have to do is not freak myself out over going between now and next March. Yes, I can do goofy things like that sometimes.

And finally, since I'm here under the microscope, I'm afraid that sometime soon, for my own sanity, I'm going to have to come to terms with what genre I'm writing and want to continue to learn to write. I still balk at anyone saying I write fantasy (That's flying unicorns and talking dolphins writing! Or is it talking unicorns and flying dolphins? I get those mixed up.). I still haven't given myself permission to write true horror, other than one or two short stories, and might never, and I've never been a SF nut (Okay, so I loved "2001, A Space Odyssey," after the third time. Does that count?). Looks like I've got several months of pondering to do and most of the summer left to do it in.

It's warm in here at Fireside Coffee Lodge this evening. The temperature outside should only be in the mid-seventies but the southern wall of windows looking out onto a busy, rush hour laden Powell Boulevard is reflecting back the heat from the pavement or something. Almost everyone is complaining about how warm it is in here; everyone but Jay who isn't feeling temperatures yet like the rest of us.

700 words tonight on a new short story that I'm going to call J & L for the time being. This WIP is going in two separate directions at the moment and I've half a mind to try to create two separate versions of it - one dark and downtrodden, one with a humor bent like YAWT turned out to have. The dark one is a good release for some angst I've felt pent up with for a while. The humor version is the one I really want to write. I had so much fun writing YAWT, a piece full of voice and character peculiarities. I want all my short stories to be that fun but I know I'd get tired of it eventually, and probably, my readers would too.

I haven't sent YAWT out yet. I'm saving it for a late year submission. What better reason than to create another one along the same lines for earlier submission elsewhere, right? But I did resubmit my previously created short, the one that was almost bought. So close. Not a humor piece at all but well liked. If I'm lucky, very, very lucky, the dark version of J & L will turn out as good as this one and then, I will have fulfilled my personal goal of six new shorts for the year. And with half a year left to go. Sweet!

Call me Speedy. Call me Informed. Call me a persistent, persevering, Go-Getter. Just don't call me late for dinner.

I believe strongly in a couple of my completed short stories. When one of them came back this afternoon, I squealed with glee at receiving the personal, upbeat 'rejection,' checked my weekly submission market homework, and sent the story right back out. I didn't even give this baby time to dump off a load of laundry or raid the 'fridge. Just a quick verification, a loving pat on the head, and out it went like a dutiful son, fresh college degree in hand and a head full of sense and direction.

Happy trails, young one. Make your mama proud.

I think the stress I went through a couple of weeks ago has gone to my lower back. Is that possible? There's a song that talks about someone who died of a toothache in their heel (Old Susanna?) so why can't it be possible to get stress in ones lower back? Don't think too hard on this. Humor me.

For the record, I haven't dug in my yard for three weeks so that can't be it. Haven't vacuumed in a couple of weeks (Husband has done it recently), haven't lifted any furniture, planted any trees, or beat up any neighbor kids (though if it were legal I assure you I would). Nope, I think all the mental stress settled into my lower back and thank gawd I've got non-barfy pain medication should I need it.

Which brings me back to a discomforting, dark story idea I've tossing around for about ten months. I think I'm going to have to give myself permission to peck away at it little by little because that original totally awesome Working Title story just won't work itself out.

Note to self: Please find time soon to completely dissect Working Title since obviously the basic premise won't vacate my head.

Looks like summer-like weather might actually have arrived around here. Picked half a dozen alpine strawberries out of the hanging baskets this afternoon and noticed my blueberry bushes are bent with lots of green fruit. Around this time last year I began what I called my garden story though gardening wasn't what inspired it and in fact, it had little to do with any actual gardening. I'm terribly pleased with myself for picking that one back up, dusting it off, and making something out of it. Hopefully, I'll hear something good on that one in a couple of months. If I can do the same with the dark story idea that's languished mostly forgotten in my idea file, I'll be one story away from completing my shorts goal for the year...not that I'll stop because of that, but I do need to get back to The Car Novel that hasn't seen eyes since early May.

So much to do, so much to accomplish. Now you see why I think the stress has gone to my back?

Yeah, I know, doesn't make much sense to me either but that's the story I'm sticking with today.

After some much appreciated comments from the LJ hive-mind on flashbulb spots (a thousand thanks to Josh English, Kami, criada, and Ramblin Phyl) and a hopeful and very welcome email from a pro market, I set to work today finishing YAWT (Yet Another Working Title).

The short story, a fantasy/speculative piece, has been rewritten the least number of times of anything I've written to date. Is that a good or a bad sign? I don't know. The story's got big voice and touches of humor throughout. I've never written humor before. I'm not sure of the ending but then again, I rarely am. Yet I'm calling it done. In addition, I'm calling it my favorite piece of work yet.

It's been printed and will stand before the man this evening, perhaps during dinner, preferably without wine accompaniment. Don't know what's for dinner yet so that may or may not impact this first review. But during, we'll discuss the ending, argue about red-marked sentences misunderstood and seemingly taken out of context, and I'll wonder again if any of this is worth the trouble or at the very least, if it's straining our marriage. I'll come away feeling like a better writer with a greater love of the work and the process and respect for what he says. I'll fix what I can, fret about the rest, and send it to the next level, my writing group, after which I'll start the emotional process all over again.

And then, maybe, just maybe, I'll figure out a real title. Titles, yeah, there's an ongoing problem. Gotta suck poorly at something, right?

Is it true? YAWT has made it's ending known?

Maybe, perhaps, probably so. Okay, yes, it's true! And it only took reading it (with LOTS of voice inflection) in front of friends and people I don't know to have them all point out the ending of the story to me.

Reason number 46 why I love writing groups.

A relatively simple rewrite will happen later this weekend and then, the mad hunt for a market will begin. This one, my first with intentional humor added (influenced by reading Ken Scholes), will be story number seven looking for a home.

For as much as I complained a couple of days ago about stuffing my half-finished short story (YAWT - Yet Another Working Title) into the Dead Story file, I can't keep myself from thinking about how I might be able to fix it. I love it when my brain works like this because just as often, it doesn't.

In other news, my entry in the Writers of the Future contest - 2nd quarter, came back. While I didn't place anything with them, rejection doesn't really bother me (I learned to deal with it a lot growing up) and so, I rewarded myself by sending the story right back out to another market, to a publication that had good things to say to me last year in a personalized rejection on what I consider now a lesser story. Get back in that saddle, get back on that horse. A-yup, I live for this kind of thing. And while I was at it, I sent WotF an entry for their 3rd quarter contest. That makes six of my stories out there looking for homes, or hopefully at the very least, a word or two of guidance.

Next month, The Car Novel bubbles to the surface again. With the first half edited and the second half's outline nearly complete, I've got no reason to come up short on finishing it this year. Time to dig out my aloha shirts and my favorite Vans, dust off my car, squirt some Uber-Gloss on it, and get the oil changed (finally), and dive back into Cecil, Floyd, and Scratchy's world.

Now if only the weather outside would cooperate. Still having cold, wet, windy late February/early March-like days. Still experiencing near-freezing overnight temperatures. STILL have those geraniums camping out in the garage (under grow lights thank goodness).

In lieu of being able to spread more bark mulch or lay retaining block due to on and off hail today, the short story YAWT (Yet Another Working Title) received 250 more words, most of which I like. Beta reader Steve may not agree. Or he might laugh himself silly like he did last Thursday when he read the first half. Yes, it's true. There is a Santa Claus.

I'm good at whining. Whining mostly about how I'm all worried that I won't find an idea to write about and how I won't be able to reach my short story goal this year.

All a load of bull-pucky.

Mid January I did the same thing and less than two weeks later I had a story. It came hard and fast (whoa there Nellie) and it just would not let me have a moment's rest until it was on the screen, rewritten eight times, and finally down on paper.

Then I went back to Working Title, a short that's been kicking my butt since November. It's half done and only recently did I start to feel I knew where the end might be hiding. But because I'm still not terribly certain, get out the 'Woe is me' card. Boo-hoo, sniffle, sniffle, I'm a loozer.

I should know better, really I should. After all, I did just have a brief, little chat with Steve on exactly this topic less than a week ago.

So the other day, I dug out a story I wrote late last year. I really didn't like it, no, I'll say it: I hated it. El Suck-O and all that. But I got it back out and reread it and didn't barf or anything so just maybe, I figured there might be hope for it.

After reading it, I gave it one day to form solidly in my mind (like a mozzarella cheese ball rolled in granular cat litter) and this evening, much earlier this evening which is actually yesterday evening as I typing this and just glanced at the computer clock and...

OH MY GOD, IT'S NEARLY SIX A.M. and I haven't even gone to bed yet!

I can proudly say I have a new story, complete even, second draft and maybe best of all, I like it!

Today I had flash of brilliance and changed a small part of Ash, the short story I finished last week. Something Steve mentioned a couple of times during his critique of it finally made sense to me and so out went most of the foreign text. I had to run across something similar in a story I was reading in the bathroom when it hit me.

What? Are you saying you never read or have great ideas while in your bathroom? Yeah, I thought so...

Afterward (don't ask after what) I pecked out a few words on a current WIP and made some minor changes per Steve's suggestions before he left on a business trip. And now, I should either be writing my fingers to the bone or reading something, anything, anything at all rather than sitting here bored and aimlessly staring off into space wondering what I would do and what would become of me if I had to spend the rest of my life alone.

It's not a pretty scenario so let's not think about it right now.

But then again (thinking about it anyway because there's no one else here to stop me from doing so), I do have a horribly bad, unfinished short about a woman who practically lives alone because her husband spends about as much time at work as she spends in her garden which is all.the.time. Maybe I could use this time to peck at that short, because really, do I really need to play another age of Age of Empires?

Yesterday, I had planned to pick back up a short story I'd been working on earlier this month/late last fall. You know, the one I was struggling with before I decided to go all 'speculativation'(tm) on it, and yes, the same one that got shelved when that weird snowfall last week hit me in the forehead with a brilliant new story idea. Well, the brilliant new story idea has been written, rewritten, critiqued to death by my significant other and rewritten some more. It's been finished for all of two three days and that means it's time to jump back on the other one.

Except that a dead cat (not one of ours), an unexpected drive in the snow and hours spent being all blubbery and teary-eyed brought the end of that kind of thinking. No worries. Jump back on the wagon tomorrow. I even printed out a fresh copy of the story last night so I could get a jump start on it today.

A killer headache derailed me from nearly the start. I'm sure the pounding construction going on next door at the new rental house had nothing little to do with it.

After six hours and five aspirins, I'm finally looking at that short piece and I want to rip it to shreds, literally. The beginning sounds all wrong because I think I edited it to death. I like how the second scene reads but it has nothing to do with the point of the story and I still don't have an ending so I think it's safe to say I don't have a point either. I think I might actually hate this piece; sad because I had such great hopes for it.

What follows then is telling myself to calm down, read it with fresh, non-head-achy eyes tomorrow. I know I promised myself six short stories (minimum) and completion of The Car Novel this year and it's only going on February and I don't have to have this thing done by tomorrow. But I know how I can get -- a little relaxation here, a whole lot of game playing there, the shiny-ness of the new iTouch calls me away from reading and before I know it, it'll be July and I'll be freaking out not so much because I'll only have five months left to do all this writing but because I'll have to have come up with an idea for NaNoWriMo 2008 too. Basically, I can't give myself a break, now or later.

See how my mind works? Yup, clear as mud I'll bet.

I haven’t started working on those new short ideas I came up with over last weekend. I’ve been working on rewriting my last two finished shorts, numbers 3 and 4. And I presented short number 2 to my writing group (INK) for critique. Got some good ideas on what that one’s missing and as soon as I’m finished with numbers 3 and 4, I’ll jump right on a rewrite for number 2.

Confused yet? Just wait until I’ve got a dozen or more under my belt. Hopefully, a couple of these will be published or soon-to-be and I can start referring to them by title.

INK group meeting went well. I was impressed with Ris’ script from June’s Script Frenzy competition and I got a copy of Kami’s nonfiction piece to critique at the next meeting. I sent them both a copy of short number 3; my permission piece, and have already gotten back a lengthy critique and sent back a second rewrite.

And July isn’t even over yet. I’m still on target. As if I had any doubt.

Tomorrow I’ll begin rewrite of short number 2. Tonight, however, I think I’m going to take this voice I used so heavily in shorts 3 and 4 and begin short number 5. It’s just screaming to get out on paper.