L.K. Latham's Blog, page 14

Introducing Eugene Plumb

I’d like to introduce Ms. Eugene Plumb, a character in Midnight Bites. Since she introduced herself to me, I’ve liked her, and she’s made herself essential to the conclusion of Midnight Bites.

She’s tall, thin, and loves to show off her tattoos. Her mother is a world famous tattoo artist. Eugene will give you the cash in her wallet, she’ll back you in a fight, no questions asked, and she’ll pick you off the side of the street when your new friends dump you there. There are two things you should always remember when talking to her: Never call her Geni - she hates that nickname, and she’s a Werewolf.

“It wasn’t my fault!” What was I supposed to do? Let him go?

Besides, no one knew it was me. That picture was all dark and blurry. And who’s going to take a pic on a wolf running down The Strip seriously? It was a slow news day, that’s the only reason they showed on television. Okay, so it swung through twitter and someone on Instagram cleaned it up. No one knows it was me.

Well, my dad knew it was me. Totally wigged him out.
I so miss Vegas. Loved it there. You should see the glass studio I worked at; all the last tools, the best glass and gas you can get, and work streaming in. Yes, it was a lot of neon, but I like neon. Got great tips when I worked the bars in the casinos.

Mrs. Smith was pissed. She runs Vegas, but you know that. Anyway, I get home from chasing that- oh; I don’t know what to call it, and I got like a dozen goons standing at my front door. Thought for sure I was dead. I mean, it was like seven in the morning; the sun was just up, and - well, maybe not a dozen of them - but they were big, tough types. They knew I’d be spent from the night. If not, I would have kicked their asses out of my place.

So, like they don’t say please, they just say get in the car. I figure for sure I’m dead, but I get to her place, and they put me in this real, posh room and tell me to sleep. Right! I’m going to sleep in a casino run by them. But the shower was nice, and the bed was soft. I wake up with a huge dinner is brought in for me. This gets me thinking, maybe they don’t want me dead. And who walks into my room just as I’m hitting the chocolate cake, my dad.

Says he saw the picture and before he could act, gets a call to come get me. Still can’t believe he got him on an airplane. Thinks it’s unnatural to fly. Can you believe that? Turns out, the vamps only picked me up to hide me. So, I’m thinking all I have to do is lie low a few days, and all will be cool. Nope.

She sends me here, to Austin, Texas. Home of cowboys, oil wells, and a university. Dad and Mrs. Smith figure it's time for me to finish my MFA. I get into town and find out I’m already enrolled. Seriously! No one knew it was me. It wasn’t my fault!

So, maybe other things are going on. Turns out Mary Midnight had a hand in me coming here, too. Never figured Mary even knew I existed. Not such a good thing being known by Mary, or so I’m told, but there it is. What’s a wolf to do?

I don’t know. Austin, it’s not too bad: It’s like edgy in a laid back sort of way. The cafe where I work is pretty cool. It’s got a mean sort of vamp running the kitchen. You gotta try his croissants. OMG! You’ll die for them. Not literally die. You know what I mean.

Turns out the SOB I was chasing down the Strip is now in Austin. I almost had him last time. He won’t get away this time.

Poem a Day?

Countdown to National/Global Poetry Writing Month (Na/GloPoWriMo) begins.
Will you challenge yourself to take part? Don’t tell me you don’t write poetry. This is a challenge, a chance to step out of our comfort zones, a chance to stretch our little gray cells, an opportunity to improve our prose.
I’ve participated in tandem with CampNaNoWriMo for the past three years. What a workout! With two novels to wrap up in the next month plus, I’m NOT doing both challenges this year. (She says as the possibilities swarm in her mind.)
The idea behind Na/GloPoWriMo is to write a poem every day in April. My friend, an old curmudgeon who hangs around the coffee shop (virtually these days), writes poetry every day, and he writes pretty good stuff. So, why am I hesitating to sign up for Na/GloPoWriMo? After all, I enjoy reading and writing poetry. Easy peasy: Let's do it. But wait: I have good excuses to not participate.
Do any of these excuses sound familiar?
• I can’t write when anyone is around me.
⁃ Wrong: We write in a coffee shops/libraries/restaurants/at the office when no one is looking.
• I’m not in the mood to write a poem.
⁃ Mood has nothing to do with writing. We’re hired to work certain jobs at certain times. Don’t do the work - don’t get paid. True, we’re not getting paid to write poetry. Or are we? Words are how we connect with our ourselves, with other people, and our surroundings. Writing makes us feel good.
• The muse must strike to write well.
⁃ Balderdash! Muses are nice, but let’s face it. They keep their own schedule and don’t need to pay the rent. We must and can work well without them.
• It’s too much work to write a poem.
⁃ Seriously? You can’t take five minutes to put a few words on a page?
Hanging head in shame. I can write a poem a day. I want to write a poem a day. Let’s promise to write a poem a day in April. I’ll sign up for Na/GloPoWriMo, and maybe I’ll post what I write each day. How about you? I’m not asking you to post your poems. Take the time to write them.
Let’s turn ourselves into poets.

Writer's Logic

I read about writing, but I’m not a writer
I talk about writing, but I’m not a writer.
I write when I can, but I’m not a writer.
I put words on a page, but I’m not a writer.
I think I could be, but I’m not a writer.
I think my logic is skewed, I must be a writer.

Is there such a thing as too many books?

There are so many books sitting on bookshelves (solid and electronic) I have no idea what many of them are. I’m a sucker for a good story and buy books as soon as I see one that interest me. So, this year, my New Year’s Resolution: Read all the books I have before I purchase a new one.
2 January 2021: New Year's Resolution broken.
Books make me happy, so when I see my stash, I’m smile. Unfortunately, I’ve now had one painful experience with my stash of books. In December, I noticed a book from one of my favorite historical authors. Her writing is entertaining, light, and touched with just enough history to help me explore people and places from distant time and place. The book I opened did not entertain me. It was so light as to be nonexistent. It sparked neither imagination nor interest. Only the grammar remained on par with her usual excellence. I even poked holes in the historical facts and didn’t even need the internet to do it.
My faith in this author (no, it’s not you. It’s no one I’ve ever had contact with) prevented me from tossing the book into the bin. I pressed on. It did not improve. My faith in my stash of books broke. The thought of opening another book filled me with dread.
And then I tapped on a title in my stash I didn’t recognize, a novella by Virgina Wolff, Flush, a Biography. My faith in the written word is restored. If you’re a fan of Virginia Wolff, Elizabeth Barrett Browning (Flush’s companion), or have a love of dogs, this is a novella to entertain and educate, and commune with characters in a time and place none of us will ever know. I enjoyed. I explored.
Just because there are a few “dogs” in my stash of books, doesn’t mean I have to stop reading. And that makes me enjoy all my books, again.

I'm no Pollyanna, but...

No one accuses me of being Pollyanna, nor do I. That being said, I need to shout, “Chill!”
It’s terrible being stuck at home day in and day out. Don’t stop complaining. It feels good to shout and swear and release built up tensions. As long as we’re sitting at home complaining, we’re ensuring one less person ends needs a ventilator to live.
It’s incredibly inconvenient not to dash to the grocery store when you realize you’re out of coffee. Don’t stop complaining about it. The drive through at my local Starbucks is now the busiest in the city. Baristas at the drive-through window are in masks working, learning, and smiling (genuine smiles are in the eyes, not behind the masks, and yes, they are smiling) every time I drive through. They’re safe, working, and paying their bills.
Does it not take forever to get groceries these days. First, you place the order on an app, then you have to get in your car, and only then can you drive up and have someone load them in the car. Seriously! Where’s the fun of dodging screaming children running in front of your cart, worn out checkers asking, “Do you know how much this is?” followed by “Price check, please” over the intercom, and where’s the thrill of finding new scratches on the car from runaway carts? Complain about it.
I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of complaining. Our lives changed in 2020. They will never be what they were, but isn’t living all about change? Sure, it’s hard, but that’s the adventure. I cannot tell every barista, cashier, shopper, or delivery worker how much I appreciate them, but I can try.
Let me add, I’m glad you are who you are doing what you’re doing. This is how I end 2020: With gratitude and ready to face the challenges of 2021.
Thank you,
Medical professionals
First responders
USPS, UPS, FedEx and everyone out there delivering packages to my door. Do these folks fly or what?
The shoppers at my local grocery stores
All techs and managers working overtime (and a home with the kids and pets running around barking) allowing me and my friends to meet/chat/and hangout online.
Just because I cannot see you or talk to you, doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re out there. You are the true heros of a county feeling a little lost right now. You are the people who prove what hard work and care can do.

Thank you

Oatmeal Days

I’ve been reading a lot lately about living with chronic disease. Until this COVID hit and I was joined by so many people working from home, I didn’t think about my chronic condition and its affects on my daily routine. I never placed myself in that group. You know, those people with a chronic disease. I just “dealt” with it. I supposed I needed to see those without chronic disease dealing with a suddenly stationary lifestyle to see how many days I spend walking in oatmeal.
That’s what I call my bad days, Oatmeal Days - because there are days when it feels like I’m walking in a giant bowl of oatmeal. The more I push, the less distance I travel.
Chronic fatigue is a symptom of my disease, and while I’ve “dealt” with it for most of my adult life, it hasn’t been until this past year that I’ve put myself into that group of chronic fatigue sufferers. There are no drugs to cure chronic fatigue, especially since it’s a symptom of a larger problem, but accepting it as an issue proves to be the number one thing I needed to do, especially since so many in the medical profession say “suck it up,” or “eat more veggies” when I complain about chronic fatigue. I’ve been sucking it up long enough, and I’m a vegetarian.
Thought I’d share what I’ve learned in hopes it makes your chronic fatigue (or just when you feel like you’re having an oatmeal day) a little easier to deal with.
1. Don’t be afraid to back off from activities with friends when you have an oatmeal day. That was the hardest thing to do. People expect me to do certain things, and I hate not being able to keep up. I participate as much as I can, but now I let others handle the heavy lifting.
2. Rest when you need it. Nothing hurts more than pushing and pushing and pushing to get things done only to have them not done. Yes, it takes me longer to get things done, but they get done when I take the time to let my body rest. Maybe I read a little, have a cup of tea, walk through my garden and observe what’s growing. I’m not killing anyone’s time. I’m healing.
3. Realize drinking that extra mocha, eating that danish, or sucking down candy bars may give me a quick sugar rush, but in the end, I still need to rest. In fact, I’m more tired after a forced push brought on by a sugar high than if I just rest. These things just add calories that cannot be worked off. Hopefully, I’ve caught myself before I gain so much weight I cannot get back to a healthy weight.
In these times where everyone’s health affects us all, let’s give us and our friends a break. Relax, smile, take a sip of tea. All will be done when it’s done.

Stop Worrying About Your Word Count

As NaNo progresses, I’m hearing more than a few moans about not making daily word counts. So, stop worrying about your daily word count. The point of NaNo is to write. Write whatever you want, whenever you want, how much you want.
If you’re not making your daily word count, you’re spending too much time counting words you’re not writing.
When you sit down and tell yourself to write, write. The point of NaNo is to get words on paper. You’re not writing the next bestseller, the long awaited greatest novel ever written, you’re not even writing your first draft of the best novel ever written. You’re writing the shit draft of the next greatest novel of all time. This is the draft you’ll never let anyone read. If anyone walks up behind you, you’ll open a new window or close your work. You must let no one see these pages. It’s too terrible! If someone walks up behind you and reads these pages over your shoulder, cry, scream, hyperventilate, yell, punch. (I recommend not punching. You need your fingers to get your words on the page.)
After NaNo, after you have that terrible, awful, makes-no-sense, grammatically challenged, worst-thing-ever-written crap you call a novel, you’ll start on your first draft. This is when it gets good. This is when you worry about your word count. That crap you wrote will say, “She walked to the door. She took out her keys. She unlocked the door. She entered the house. She screamed.” Boring!
You’ll turn those words into, “Claws ripped through her shoulder….”
The following line of advice, attributed to C.J Cherryh, applies not just to NaNo writing, but to all your writing. "It is perfectly okay to write garbage—as long as you edit brilliantly."
Go forth and write garbage, friends. Put your daily word count into the NaNo counter and earn your badges, and be happy you put shitty words on your pages. Editing begins next month.

To NaNo or Not to NaNo

National Novel Writing Month began 1 November. I’ve spent last week arguing whether I should take part this year. I’ve participated in both NaNo and CampNaNo since 2018 and always found the experience worth my time and effort. 2020 is different. We know nothing will be what it as it was before COVID, but is my writing life so different that I can’t take part this year?
Answer: No, but I had serious talks with my fellow writers (and myself) regarding whether or not to participate in NaNo. Here are a few of the arguments I used, let’s see if they will help you decide to participate.
Benefits of participation - instant community of people doing the same thing - writing. It’s amazing how community inspires and boosts determination to complete a project.
NaNo Rebels are people who use NaNoWrMo to complete projects, so it’s not cheating to do that. This is where I am. I have a book “almost” done, another that needs just “a few” scenes to make it complete, and at least four shorts “mostly” written. If I write 50,000 words in November, I'd have five projects ready for editing.
However: NaNo before COVID meant meeting with writers in coffee/tea shops, restaurants, libraries, and bookstores just to sit and write. Gathering creates a great source of energy and inspiration - not to mention the friendly peer pressure to write. Meeting online doesn’t do it for me. Maybe in time, it will, but I like to put my butt in different chairs now and then to write. It gives me a boost.
Even if I don’t make the 50,000 words by the end of November, I’ll be much closer to having all these projects shift to editing than I am now.

There are disadvantages of participating in NaNo. They are real. Confession - I’ve never completed a NaNo project in November. Do I feel bad that I haven’t. No.
There is a certain amount of pressure to keep up with writing schedule, but I’m only competing with myself, and I consider myself a fair and compassionate player in any game.
After a month of write, write, write, there isn’t always a novel. However, I’ve always have pages and pages of material to use later.
Clearly, I favor participation. The word count alone here proved to me I want to and will take part. I hope you do to.
Sans COVID: What will NaNo be like? Now is the most important moment. Let’s live it like we mean it.

New Fan of The Hollows

I became a huge fan of Kim Harrison’s The Hollows series this summer. I heartily recommend for those who enjoy Urban Fantasy with a strong female lead. When I began the series, I was unsure about Rachel, the central protagonist. I thought she was just another 20 something too full of herself for me to care about, but Harrison’s excellent writing, scene setting, and action building kept me reading. Glad I did! Rachel grew throughout the original book, Dead Witch Walking, and through the series, while she’s a bit more moony over being in love than I care for, Rachel’s sharp, smart, and a woman to be reckoned with, with just enough bad habits to make her lovable.
I can’t wait to read Million Dollar Demon, the next (final?) book in the series, when it comes out.

Hello!

A plate of brownies cures all ailments, mostly. For the first time in over a week, I’m feeling human. Allergies, or environmental factors, as my allergies likes to say, have been doing a number on me. So, I made brownies, and I ate them all. Proof positive: Chocolate cures!

I’ve been running a blog for a while, but only last week realized I could also blog here. How cool! This post is to say hello. I’ll start feeding my other blog, but I hope to drop in here more to see what everyone is reading.