Ann Christy's Blog, page 5

Perfect Partners, Incorporated – Not what it sounds like.

 

You might not have heard a whole lot about this series from me yet. Why? I think I was waiting to be sure the inspiration that drove me to write Posthumous was going to keep on ticking along. It did, so…yay! I’m super excited about The Dogcatcher, which is the next in the series. I really like this character and more importantly, I feel for him.

Incidentally, I’m opening ARCs for The Dogcatcher right now. Release is 28 December so that would be the date that a review needed to be posted on Amazon and/or Goodreads. It’s about the same length as Posthumous, so about 95 pages long if it were in a printed book and about 65 Amazon “estimated” pages. Let me know if you want one.

In case you don’t know….

PePr, Inc. was first published as a short story in The Robot Chronicles, the first of the now world-wide best-selling Chronicles series. I never intended PePr to be anything more than that…a stand alone short story. But then I started noticing stuff…like news articles on the unexpected reactions to the newest robotic advances, interesting conversations between artificial beings and humans, even some great music that incorporates some of the extremely odd conversation of a web-based “A.I.” that made me mourn for humanity.

I considered all the jobs they might be able to do and what humans would do to keep busy when that happened. Well, they could just sit around in their pajamas and take their robot’s paycheck (that’s SO gonna happen). Robots can do anything if they get mobility and socialization solved. So let’s draw this forward in time…let’s make them indistinguishable from human…what are they then?

And then, suddenly, I was just sitting around like humans do and I had a thought. I’ve been thinking how all these changes would be for us, how it might change us in negative as well as positive ways, and all the things that could (and therefore would) go wrong. What about them? What would all this be like for the robots? Humans have had incredibly negative impacts on more species than I can count (extinction being the most obvious, but continued suffering is right up there). There’s no reason to think we’ll change simply because the “species” we create is artificial and expensive.

The Perfect Partners, Incorporated series explores all of this. The good, the bad, the very bad. The crazy, the heart-wrenching, the unexpected. So far, I’ve written stories that explore robot “evolution” into feeling beings at various points in time after their commercial release.

PePr, Inc. is FREE on Amazon (and B&N, iTunes, Google Play, etc) and it remains a short story. I could have turned it into a novella, but I rather like the snappy tone of the short story format and I’ve left it there. All the rest of the books are novella length, with the shortest being about 50 pages and the longest about 99 pages. Still a big chunk of reading for just $0.99 each for sure.

This is on purpose. I don’t want to create a big novel where their individual contributions are diluted by being joined with others. The impact is far more acute, the involvement of the reader intensified, the experience more potent when done this way. My favorite reader response was an email about Posthumous that read: On a crying scale from 1 to 5, this is a nineteen.

Aside from all being set in the PePr universe, none of the stories is connected. Each novella is entirely complete on it’s own. A full tale told in the right number of words for it.

PePr, Inc. – Hazel has a great job that she’s really good at, wonderful friends who always support her, and a life that moves along smoothly. She also has Henry and that’s not working out so well. When Henry’s attention takes a disturbing turn, going to PePr, Inc. to void the contract might not be the easy solution Hazel imagined it would be. Is Henry a perfect Match or a perfect nightmare?

Posthumous – Love is eternal in a silicon heart. Edna writes, but isn’t allowed to publish. She lives in a beautiful home that she isn’t allowed to own. She has a dog, yet she is property herself. The only thing that truly belongs to her is her love…and now that is lost to her as well. When a robot, an ancient beagle, a long-dead human, and a fictional character meet in space and time, the logic of bits and bytes are no match for the mysterious workings of the “human” heart. CAUTION: Not for lunch time reading. Tissues needed.

Imperfect – Sandra was built with everything; a perfect body, perfect face, and every upgrade that can be bought. Yet somehow she finds herself on the reject table next to a half-dissembled robot with an erratic personality. And now, on top of everything else, she’s just experienced her first emotion. Too bad for her it turned out to be fear. Will she be able to navigate the impersonal world of PePr, Inc. and save herself…and maybe all her kind in the process.

The Dogcatcher – Ace is a civil service PePr for Animal Control. Designed to be even more adept than humans at dealing with frightened, hurt, or abandoned animals, they may have built him more than originally intended. It’s not hard to see the human system is stacked against non-humans when you’re designed to understand their most beloved – and most often abused – companions. When Ace commits an act that will demand his termination, he finds that he has friends in the strangest places and discovers the humanity inside humans.

What’s next? I’m torn. Right now I’m working on Strikers: Eastlands, but these novellas are a welcome and useful break when I’m struggling with plotting a long and complicated book. My ideas for future volumes include the titles, War, Mercy, Eternal, Trial, Homeless, Underground, and Caretaker. I’ll leave you to ponder what those might be about (but I’m very literal in that regard). If you have one that you’d like to see done first, don’t hesitate to let me know. Do you want crazy, tearjerker, action-packed, or thoughtful?

 

Christmas Between Life and Death

Yes, yes, I know already. I’m a complete loser for not updating the blog, but you see, I have an excuse. I’ve been writing.

Am I forgiven?

If not, then maybe I will be after I tell you this: Christmas Between Life and Death has been completed and it will be going to everyone on the VIP List….free!

Yep, it won’t be published anywhere to buy, only for you guys. It will be on the next newsletter in about a week, so be sure to open it.

Oh, you’re not on the mailing list because you just get your news here? Pfft…here’s the link to sign up on the list. Also, you get three free stories, including one that’s exclusive to the VIP List.

So, what’s this Christmas business? Ah! Well, lots of readers were happy that I truly closed the series with two epilogues, so they got what happened in the months after the “big event” but also twenty years later in the second epilogue. Even so, I got plenty of email asking what happened in between those times. People want details!

So, with me being all in the holiday spirit and all, I decided to dive into that long period between the two epilogues and write about the first time they resurrected the Christmas holiday. There aren’t any huge antagonists, no giant battles, no devious plots to unravel. It’s all about Christmas and loads of fun (though it does answer a couple of questions!) Beta readers are reporting back with words like perfect, love, and so on, so I’m guessing it hits the spot for those who liked the series.

That said, if you haven’t read the series, go ahead and download it from the newsletter when I send it out, but don’t read it! It will completely ruin the books. Just stash it away until you finish the series. Not going to read it? Well, then it probably won’t make a lot of sense anyway, since we jump right in with the characters that survived.

Want to start the series for free? Well, it’s on Amazon and costs zero dollars and zero cents right now. Just a thought.

 

The Book of Sam is Live!!! $0.99 for new release!

That’s right! The Book of Sam has been published! You can get it on Amazon, but the paperback should be available at Barnes and Noble soon, too.

For a few days, I’ll have the price at $0.99 so regular readers can get it cheap. After that, it goes up to normal, so if you’re wanting to read it, don’t wait too long to pick it up.

Yes, yes, I know I’ve been a total slacker at updating this blog lately, but I’ve been super busy. We now have a vibrant and energetic four year old living in the house and it’s been keeping me busier than I thought possible.

Still, I’m going to get better at updates. Promise!

Back to Sam – As surprising as it was to get so much reader email about Sam, I knew he had to be first up at bat for the Between Life and Death: Origins series. That he connected with readers so deeply, given his brief role in the first book, The In-Betweener, was gratifying. I think it also says a lot about people. Readers fell in love with the nice guy.

Until next time, Happy Reading!

The Book of Sam – Between Life and Death: Origins

Here it is! The cover for The Book of Sam is here!

The first full-length novel in the Between Life and Death: Origins series is slated for an October release, so get your hankies ready and prepare to get to know Sam in a way you didn’t inside the pages of The In-Betweener.

Why no pre-order?

Sorry folks, there’s no pre-order because those just don’t work well for me. I’m not a big enough name yet. What I will do is make absolutely sure that the first few days after release the price will be $0.99 so that everyone who wants to read it can get it cheap.

I would heartily recommend getting on the VIP List (if you’re not already on it) so you’ll get notified the moment it goes live. And also, you won’t miss the cheap release price.

Soon, I’ll be opening up a special segment of the VIP List for some readers. These are the readers that review (or want to review) and be a part of the Advanced Team. They’ll get all my books early…and free. Along with the standard drawing I do for everyone on the VIP List (swag, signed books, audiobooks, etc) there will be a second drawing just for Advanced Team members.

So, it does come with some perks. The only thing I’d like in return are those reviews during release week. I’ll keep everyone updated on when the Advanced Team segment will be open.

 

Last FREE Day for The In-Betweener and $0.99 on Forever Between

Today is the last day for the big sale run on the first two books of the Between Life and Death series! The In-Betweener is free and Forever Between is just $0.99.

Also, PePr, Inc. is still free on Amazon’s US store, and will hopefully become free on all the other Amazon stores (UK, CA, etc) as time goes on.

Two Free Books Today – Future Chronicles Week Sale

 

First up: PePr, Inc. is FREE in Amazon…and on iTunes…and on Google Play…and everywhere else I could think of. So, yay!!!

This is my story from the first of the Future Chronicles series, The Robot Chronicles. And since this is Future Chronicles week, this is a good thing. Also, Posthumous is still $0.99 on Amazon. This novella (20K words) is being reported to me as a total tearjerker, so I wouldn’t read it in public.

 

And second? Whoot! The In-Betweener is free on Amazon from 12-16 August and to go with it, I’ve made Forever Between just $0.99 for the same time period. For those of us who loved my Silo 49 series, or are fans of Strikers, but never dipped your toe into the Between Life and Death world, this is your chance to do it.

Sneak Peek of The Book of Sam, Book One of Between Life and Death Origins

So, quite a few of you wanted that sneaky peeky of The Book of Sam. This is first draft…and you all know what that means…but here’s your glimpse at the beginning. Let me know what you think, either here or on the Facebook post.

The Book of Sam
Between Life and Death Origins
Chapter One – Day One

The school bell rings and I look at the students in front of me. Only eight today. Bella is missing, but I half-expected that at some point. She has an older sister more than capable of taking care of her during the day while her mother works, something many of my students don’t have. The hassle of getting Bella to the bus stop, waiting for the bus, and then worrying about picking her up at the end of the day can be alleviated by simply letting her stay home rather than attend summer school.

Still, summer school is important for my students, no matter how much of a pain it might be. The challenges of Down syndrome are significant enough without adding a nine-week break from school into the mix. These students often lose more during the course of a summer than children in mainstream classes if nothing is done to reinforce what they’ve learned. And Bella had been doing so well.

I sigh, drawing the attention of one of my students. Little Piper—so sweet that it almost seems she might melt in the rain like a cube of sugar—gives me a sidelong glance and smiles her sweetest smile. It’s the one that brings up two dimples next to her lips and lifts her chubby cheeks into two rosy balls. I can’t help but smile back. We’re not supposed to pick favorites, but some kids are just too awesome not to adore. Piper is one of those.

“Okay, kids! Let’s settle down,” I call out to the socializing group of kids. Aged between seven and eleven, they’re at that age where any meeting with a friend is cause for loud celebration. “Paulie, that’s enough hugging for now. Okay? Can everyone find their name for me?”

They sort of turn their attention to me, but the lure of chatting is a strong one. I walk toward the rough circle formed in X’s of tape stuck to the short carpet, the name of a child in the class carefully written in bold capital letters on each one. Having their attention shift to me, and then to the X spots on the floor, lowers the decibel level a little more.

Each child seeks their X, most of them remembering exactly where their mark is, but going through their standard process of sounding out their name and pointing to each letter in turn, before sitting. I have to help Corinne to her X. She’s still working on the spelling of her name and she still doesn’t always recognize it. We point to each letter and sound it out, her giggling and laughing in delight the whole while. I love my job. I really do.

The two empty spots that should be for Bella and Thomas are a bit like a silent rebuke. Unfortunately, chance would have it that those bracket my most sensitive student, Michael. He looks to either side of his spot, his face crumpling as he does. Michael is the youngest in his family, with four much older siblings. He feels rejection very keenly, even when there is none intended.

Michael is a loud and expressive crier, so I scoot over toward one of the empty spots and sit down on the X marked Thomas. That drawers his attention, so I lean down to grin at Michael and say, “I’m very lucky to sit next to you today, Michael!”

The confusion on Michael’s face fades quickly, the happiness returning like the sunshine after the passing of a single obscuring cloud, and he leans over to put his head against my arm. As much as I like the kids, I have to gently adjust the boy back to a seated position in short order. I’m always keenly aware of the caution that all teachers must have with respect to contact with their charges. The cameras in each corner of the room remind me of it every time I see their obtrusive and untrusting eyes.

“Does anyone remember what we were doing at the end of the day yesterday?” I ask, looking around the circle and meeting the eyes of each student. I’m careful to give an encouraging smile to each and every one of them.

Several hands shoot up, then a few more because raising hands is apparently great fun. I call on one of the first to raise her hand, so that I’ll be sure to get a correct answer. No one likes to start the day by giving a wrong answer.

Mary, the oldest in my class at almost twelve, yells the answer just a little too loudly, “Counting and colors!”

“Right!” I exclaim—though not as loudly—and flip over the pile of oversized cards lying in the center of the circle. Bright shapes in vibrant colors along with the letters spelling out the color cover the cards, and several of the children clap at the sight of them. This is a favorite activity for many of them. It’s true that a good many of my kids are well past the need for counting and color activities like this one, but it’s an excellent reinforcement for them. It also allows them the chance to lead the younger ones. From my point of view, that’s another important part of growing up.

The morning class begins and I feel that same sense of fulfillment I do whenever I enter the classroom. It takes more to prepare these wonderful children for their future lives than many teachers have the patience for, but to me this is a balm to the soul and the fulfillment of a promise to the brother I lost.

My older brother, George, was born with severe Down Syndrome. Unfortunately, he was also born with most of the physical problems that can come along for the ride with the syndrome. Though he had corrective heart surgery as a toddler, he passed away one night in his sleep. There was no warning, no hint that it was coming. We shared a room, so it was to my mother’s screams that I woke that morning, seeing her bent over his bed and shaking him, begging him to wake up.

I was only ten and George was thirteen. To say that his loss struck me deeply would be an understatement. And I don’t mean just because I was just eight feet from him when it happened and I slept right through it, though that’s certainly bad enough. It was because he was gone and I missed him in a way I’ve never missed anything or anyone else.

I still do.

While it’s true that George was three years older than me, I learned pretty early that he needed me to stick up for him. He didn’t understand the casual cruelty of children at our primary school. I didn’t always understand it, but I sure knew it when I saw it. Though I never got into another fight after he passed, I learned to scrap pretty well at a young age.

So, it’s easy to see why I chose the profession I did. Every single day I work is like me saying thank you to my brother. I promised I would always take care of him. This is how I do that now that he’s not here himself.

Before the first recess bell sounds, the door to my classroom bangs open, the metal kickplate banging against the stop like a shot. The kids jump, but I think I jump even more. Bethany, another teacher and probably my best “teacher friend” rushes in. The look on her face sets my heart to racing. Something is very wrong.

She stops after two steps inside, probably realizing that she’s just scared the bejesus out of me, and then makes it worse by waving me over with urgent sweeps of her hand. I’m guessing she also notices the effect her facial expression is having on my kids, because she tries to smile at the kids. It looks more like a grimace.

In a shaky voice, she says, “It’s okay kids! Everything is fine. I just need Mr. Sam for a minute. Is that okay?”

Piper shouts up at her, “We’re on blue!” She waves the big card with a circle of bright blue on it to demonstrate what she means.

“Blue is my favorite!” Michael shouts and tries to grab for the card.

I get up from my spot in the circle and pass the stack of cards to Michael to distract him from his grabs. He snatches them in delight and I tell him, “Why don’t you take one and then pass them around the circle. Everyone take a card when it gets passed to you and practice on that color. Okay?”

That suggestion gets me a round of happy agreements, so I step away, but keep half an eye on the kids, while worrying what that pale, strained look on Bethany’s face might mean. As always, my first thought is that something bad might be happening inside the school. Even in elementary school, it’s something all teachers have in the back of their minds. That’s just the way things are nowadays. That possibility is an unfortunate fact of life.

Then again, Bethany wouldn’t likely be standing in full view of the hallway with an open door at her back if there was that kind of problem. She’d have hit the deck, closed and bolted the door, or be herding her kids out of the building. Plus, there’s no noise.

As soon as I get within reach, Bethany grabs my forearm, her fingers sharp and tight. I lean close, hoping that will encourage her to keep her voice down. She looks more than worried now that we’re close, she looks frightened.

“Sam, can you take my class? I have to go. Now,” she says without delay.

I look back at my charges, but they’re busily exchanging cards with each other to get their favorites, then back at Bethany. “I really shouldn’t. You understand, right?”

Bethany sneaks a peek around my shoulder at my students and bites at her lip. I can see the warring needs in her as clearly as if they were written in magic marker across her forehead. I’d love to help her, but the rules are very firm in a few regards and this is one of them. Bethany’s class is made up of mainstream summer schoolers. Specifically, her class is made up of math students who might noth otherwise pass up into the next grade. They’re also all fourth and fifth graders. And there are more than twenty of them.

It’s not just about breaking class size rules, because there’s always room to wiggle on that when it comes to an emergency like a teacher having to stop a class for whatever reason. The real problem is that mixing mainstream students with his students is just not done. My first priority is the safety of my students, but my second is their happiness. I won’t have them scarred by unthinking slights or rude giggles.

“What about one of the other teachers?” I ask. There aren’t many here—this is a small neighborhood school—but there are some. I can’t be the only choice. It may be summer school, but we’ve got five classes going.

Bethany shakes her head, lips thin and tight. “Debbie’s got thirty-three kids in her class already and Rob’s already got two classes worth because Sherry didn’t show up. She’s probably in the same boat I’m in,” she says, then trails off, her eyes finding the clock and her jaw muscles tightening.

“Wait, what?” I ask, now concerned. A teacher just not showing up is a big deal any day, but particularly during the summer. There’s just one admin person, no aids at all this week because of training, and like every week after a holiday, a whole lot of people scheduling vacation time.

When I came in, I saw the office was occupied, and I passed Bethany getting ready in her classroom, but I was running late so I didn’t go to the teacher’s lounge or anywhere else this morning. I lean forward just enough to see down the hallway, and everything looks fine, if somewhat empty. There’s only Henry, the single school maintenance person on duty, rolling his mop bucket down the hall on squeaky wheels.

Bethany takes a deep breath, as if centering herself or reaching for calm when being pushed by a particularly challenging child, and says, “Right. Okay. I’m guessing you don’t know what’s going on out there?”

She looks up at me with those huge, dark eyes of hers and I’m pretty much done for no matter what she says. I can tell she’s searching for an answer even before I speak. I can also tell she knows I’m clueless. My shrug just confirms it.

“You remember about my Dad?” she asks.

This is a jarring change in topic. I should have realized what it was about as soon as I realized nothing was on fire and no one was shooting. The concern, the wringing hands, the ways she’s shuffling her feet a little as if she’s poised to run finally come together in my clearly, inferior brain.

“Oh, no. Did he…I mean…has he…” I trail off, not sure what the appropriate words are when asking if someone died.

She grips at my forearms again, understanding what I mean—which is good, because it was so not clear—and smiles a shaky smile. “No, no! Nothing like that. It’s the opposite. He woke up, but he’s very disoriented and…not himself.”

The relief I feel at not have to do any consoling cannot be overstated. Seriously. That sort of thing doesn’t come easy to me yet. I’m never sure if I’m doing it right or saying the right thing. Plus, this is good news. Or, it should be good news. But if it is, why does she look so scared?

“Are you okay, Bethany?” I ask her, but this time I focus entirely on her so she’ll know I want to hear the truth.

She surprises me by leaning forward and bumping her forehead into my chest. Seriously, she couldn’t have surprised me more if she’d kissed me. Even so, this feels like an overwhelmed lean instead of a flirting one, so I just let her keep doing it. I should just enjoy it while it lasts, though I’d never, ever confess that to anyone.

Bethany is older than me—as in almost twice my age—but there’s something about her. She’s divorced, has kids that aren’t too many years younger than me, and probably hasn’t thought twice about me that way. Even so, I have my daydreams. And even without daydreams, we’re friends and I know how hard the last two years have been for her.

After a boat accident, her father had been shot full of First Responder nanites by emergency services. It was protocol, but like so many others, it hadn’t worked the way it was supposed to on him. The First Responders boost oxygen in the blood, encourage heart activity, and stimulate the body’s natural responses to trauma, helping many survive the trip to the hospital and giving most those crucial few minutes they need to get truly sophisticated medical care. They are, on the whole, a good and life-saving thing.

Only they don’t always work. Her father’s traumatic brain injury meant that the nanites kept his body alive, but without enough brain function to return to normal life. He became one of the many people commonly referred to as vegetables, perfectly healthy yet never again to wake.

And now Bethany is saying he’s awake. But she’s not talking to me and she’s leaning against me in front of my class instead of jumping for joy.

“Aren’t you happy? You always said he would beat it,” I say, extricating an arm so I can pat her on the back. I look back around at the kids, some of whom are very interested in what we’re up to. That must bring her back to the present, because she pulls away and pushes back her hair. She smiles at the kids, then at me.

Something flashes through her smile, some hint of emotion other than joy. I think it really is fear. I don’t think I’m imagining it. Then it hits me what she said before. “Wait, you said Sherry was in the same boat as you. What’s going on?”

One of the children calls, so we pause long enough for me to persuade Piper to go back to her spot in the circle. Back at the door, Bethany says, “Yeah. She never talked about it, but her grandmother is in long term care in nearly the same condition as my father. Anyway, I haven’t talked to her or anything, but it’s happening all over, so it’s probably happening with her grandmother too.”

“Wait,” I say, because now I’m really confused. “You mean it’s not just your father waking up? Did something happen?”

Bethany’s eyes widen and she gives a little shake of her head, “Really? Sam, do you never watch the news? Seriously.” She puffs out a breath and waves a hand as if it doesn’t matter. “It’s all over the news. There was some experiment to try to correct neural deficits or something—basically wake up the people like my Dad—but it wasn’t supposed to be everywhere. The nurse called me here and said that it has something to do with the Monitor nanites Dad has now. They picked up the signal or something. I don’t know. Honestly, I’m just glad he’s waking up! Except…”

Sentences that trail off after words like that are never good. Not ever. “Except?” I prod.

“Well, he’s strapped down now, but the first thing he did was bite my mom on the arm. Hard. And he’s sort of out of it.” Again she flaps her hands in agitation. “It doesn’t matter. But I need to get to their house. I really do. The nurse is only supposed to be there for an hour and she has a lot of other patients. My mom can’t handle him like this on her own. Who knows what will happen?”

I’m no more capable of resisting that sort of plea that I would be able to leave a kitten in the middle of a busy street. It just isn’t in me. I push a hand through my hair and sigh. It must have been enough of an answer for Bethany, because she squeezes my arms and says, “Oh, thank you, Sam! I will totally return the favor someday!”

“Fine, yes,” I say, but I’m still very unsure about the whole thing. “Can you go to the office on your way out and ask them to call in a sub?”

Bethany nods, her mind clearly already shifting to getting out of the school as quickly as possible. “Sure, sure. I’ll go get my kids. Or do you want to bring yours over?”

I consider it, but decide that this room, which is about twice the size of a regular classroom given the variety of activities that go on in here, is the better choice. “No, bring them over for now. But give them some sort of assignment to tide them over until a sub gets here. Will you?”

“Of course! And school’s out at lunch anyway. Everything will be fine,” Bethany says, stepping away and clearly ready to dash. I let her go and then face my kids, wondering how I’m going to handle two such disparate groups for another two hours. There’s no way a sub will make it in time and I know it. At least it’s only a half day. It could be worse.

Sentient Robots? Yes, please! Perfect Partners, Incorporated

I had this awesomely eloquent post up before…but since my crash and rebuilding, I just can’t remember what witty things I said. How about I wing it?

PePr, Inc. is my short story from The Robot Chronicles and Posthumous is a novella set in the Perfect Partners, Incorporated world. I can’t describe it. No matter how I search Amazon I can’t find anything else like it. It’s sentient robots, AI, old dogs, eternal love…and more. One reader wrote after reading:  “On the crying scale from 1 to 5, this is a nineteen.” Me likey.

At any rate…PePr, Inc. is already up everywhere except Amazon as a FREE book. I’m posting it to Amazon and trying to get them to make it free in the next few days. If they don’t, I may ask all those readers out there that feel froggy to “report a lower price” on the book page and then maybe we can get them to go with the flow of free-ness.

Till next time!

P.S. And if you got here by following a link to a disappeared post…I’m so sorry! A lot wasn’t cached and this was an old backup. I’m filling it back up as fast as I can. If you’re missing something in particular, don’t hesitate to let me know!

Standby…major restoration in progress!!!

If you’re following this from twitter or facebook…you’ll notice that everything from the last three months is now missing. Something with the latest update completely wanked my site. I’ve had to use an old backup. I’ll restore all that I can as quickly as I can…just stand by for now.

All the pages are now completely out of date because this is an old backup. I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience! Please visit my facebook page to find out current news or contact me for information. Thanks!

 

Off Topic Post – Making Lotion Yourself – Question Answered

Yes, this is way off topic. It isn’t about zombies, silos, superhuman girls, or dystopian societies (well, it could be said to be about zombies because they also tend to really need a good lotion). I got a question on my site, and it’s not the first one I’ve gotten, so I figured I can just make a post and it will be here forever for those who wonder, but don’t ask.

This is for Margo, who wrote:

Margo says:

Excuse my going WAY off topic. You mentioned making your own lotion in an Amazon product review.

I would love to know what and how, if not a bother to you. Either way, thanks for your time reading this.

This is true, I have been making my own lotion and it is freaking loads of fun. It’s like science experiment time in my kitchen! I’ll happily share how I do it and how easy it is.

First, you will need to get some supplies for this, and the price tag can seem a little high at first. But, once you have the stuff, you’ll realize that you have the materials to make enough lotion to fill up your car tank…for a large SUV. So, in the end, you get a much better and more personalized lotion/cream for way cheaper. For me, it’s more about getting something that works and that I’m comfortable with the contents, but I also like it that I’m not paying 40 bucks a bottle for body lotion also.

So, without further ado, here is the super easy skinny. I went to youtube.

The youtube video that I started with and that has a very good basic recipe is here.

From there, I went on to find other videos and make my own formulations and so on, but the basic recipe is there. If you want to use something other than shea (and I did because why not?), I’ve included some of the ones that are best in the product list below. All you have to do is be sure the total sum of waxes and oils is the same.

And yes, you do need a preservative. Otherwise, there will be monsters. It is, by far, the most expensive part of this. But, it lasts a long time and a little goes a long way. I use either Optiphen or Phenonip, though my preference is Optiphen because it is gentle, wide spectrum and not made of anything creepy. Neither is Phenonip really, but we all have our quirks.

It takes about an hour to make a nice body cream…about a bucket of it. No, really, about 25 ounces or so.

To bring zombies into it, because…yeah…I do that, I created a formula scented with peppermint and rosemary that used cocoa butter, mango butter, rosehip oil, avocado oil, jojoba oil, and evening primose oil and called it: Betweener Balm. “Because nasty, undead skin needs a good lotion” and “Peppermint scented to cover smell of decay!” were what I put on the label. ::giggles:: Cute, eh?

I still haven’t figured out if it’s legal to give that to readers when I meet them. It’s the best lotion I’ve ever used in my life.

So, there you go! I hope I answered your question, Margo.

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