Sommer Marsden's Blog, page 5

Time keeps on slipping slipping slipping...

Is it me or is time going faster nowadays? I used to manage to blog almost every day. Now if I squeeze in my workouts, my errands, feed myself and others, and manage at least 1,000-2,000 words of something, I feel like I've conquered the world.

So, random weird ass update: I'm 22,000 words into a new novel and still stoked about it. Working on a new collection. And the cover for THAT is in my hot little hands and I'll be posting it soon. Woohoo!

I just watched a really good movie called VIRAL the other night. J and I have found we reallllllly love the Blumhouse movies so I think that running through all the ones we haven't seen will be a summer goal. Along with eating all the gluten free cake and going to thrift stores.

As far as what I'm reading:
For fiction I'm still working on INTO THE WATER by Paula Hawkins
For non-fiction I just started THE SLIGHT EDGE by Jeff Olson

Remember I mentioned thrift stores? If you are a thrift store haunter like myself read below. Because I've noticed things that once upon a time would have been ridiculously low are now ridiculously high. It's kind of weird. Anyway, randomness here, I thought this blog on the topic was a good read and if your dig thrifting you might too.

Beyond that, ummmmmm...my hair is lavender!



There. Now you're all caught up. Update me on your stuffs and things and goings on in the comment if you want to share.

XOXO
Sommer

Boom! Excited!

                                           *** BOOK FUEL! BRIGHT AND EARLY!***

Hey, lovelies. It's been a while since I was this excited about something I'm writing. And then the other thing I'm working on too. I can never do one thing at a time. You know that. :) In just this one week's time I'm stoked about the way a novel is going (my first dirty novel since Muse) AND about an upcoming anthology. Plus, I got a cover! A Willsin cover, to boot! But that's another blog and a reveal. Soon! Soon :)

A few of my favorite bits of the novel I've posted on FB/Twitter as I work are:

She nodded. “It was. And what’s your point?”
He leveled a finger at her and yelled “Ah ha!”
Had she been upright she’d have punched him. 
#WIP #lovehate

“Yep. You’re a grump but I’m a super nice guy.” His eyes seemed to be cataloging her messy living room and she bit back the urge to scream. Her house wasn’t ready. Why was he here? This was her personal messy space. 
“Remote,” he said, snagging it and handing it to her. She snatched it away and managed to resist the urge to beat him with it. #WIP #hatehate#laterlovehate
Okay, so sticking her ass in his face when he already found her attractive—annoying as all fuck, but attractive—might not have been the best plan. He tried to focus on empathy. He felt bad for her that she was damp. He felt bad that she’d hurt her ankle. He felt bad about that stick that seemed to be buried up her ass… #WIP #hatehate #laterlovehate

While I'm at it, I finished The Hatching and You Are a Badass at Making Money and have started the books below. So far, both are good. The SI book (Make Your Mark) is a bit more 'formulated' than You Are a Badass at Making Money, but we'll see where it goes. Who's reading what? Let me know in the comments.

XOXO
Sommer

Kill Your Darlings

                                          *RIP, darlings. Photo by moi :)

I think the first time I read that phrase was in something Stephen King wrote. I have no idea if he's responsible for the phrase, I just know it's a damn fine phrase.

This weekend on Mother's Day girl child, J, and I went to see a movie. I won't name it just in case ;) heh. Spoilers and all. The point is, in said movie, the movie makers took kill your darlings to heart. We lost a character we suddenly loved and wow. Talk about a gut shot.

I told her that I was terrible at killing my darlings. I manage from time to time, but I tend to just fuck with my darlings but end up making things okay for them. My daughter, also a writer...not so much. She is not just a kill your darlings writer, she's an *angry god of apocalyptic proportions and you're lucky if you live to see the end* kind of gal. Bless her stinky little talented heart.

The conversation turned to some books where KYD was employed leaving the reader wounded and fragile. A handful of mine are:

Summer of Night by Dan Simmons
Bag of Bones by Stephen King
11/22/63 by Stephen King
Feed by Mira Grant

There are others but those jump to mind. I think as a writer my only truly successful instance IMHO of KYD was My Ending. And then that book actually became a prediction of my personal life on some level. If you've read it, you get it.

What are your KYD books? If you have any, drop me a comment. I'm always looking for new books to read. God knows the thousands in this house aren't enough. *faints* If I've read your favorite and agree I'll come and update the list!

XOXO
Sommer

Full Circle

So tomorrow I plan to start a new book. And do some freelance. Freelance has pretty much been the only thing I've been writing for a while. I'd start things and then drop them. Start them, then drop them. Most recently was the book I was working on for NaNo. I got a good amount in and then phtttpht! I sputtered to a stop.

I have a book I'm pretty damn excited about. It's in my head, talking to me. Talking to me so much I was scribbling notes the other day at his apartment and J's like:
"What are you writing?"
"Notes."
"Notes?"
"Yep. For a book."

It was kind of neat because he's never seen me in that mindset. It was a mindset I lived in constantly for many years. Then after Jim died I used writing as a retreat. Then the retreat became a prison. And then suddenly I found myself very happy and I only wanted to go to that place when I had to. Had. To. Which was weird and disconcerting because my identity is highly entwined with the word "writer". But I accepted it because forcing myself was even more disconcerting.

I am finally feeling the stirrings of excitement and joy for writing again. I've let go of the feeling that it's a retreat and residcoverted the feeling that it's my bliss. Writing got me through a fuckton of horrible days. It's how I kept my shit together. It was a blessing that I could so my job sitting by his bedside. It let me retreat from a reality that was often horrific. It was my coping mechanism, not just my job.

So I abandoned it when I remembered what happy felt like. I wanted nothing to do with it except the things I had to do to maintain income. I wanted to be happy. Enjoy my new relationships, my shifting life, my children. I wanted to spend this gap year for girl child with her and him and the boy and the other boy and do things. All the things.

Now, it's approaching girl child going away. I've been with J nearly a year. And finally, FINALLY, my brain is like, "Hey...you know that writing thing you used to wake up every morning excited to do? I'm thinking maybe we should do that again. Ya know? See...I have this idea..."

And the next thing you know, I'm scribbling notes on paper I pilfered from his printer and telling him he can't read them yet because he'll jinx me. I've come full circle, I guess. Joy-retreat-coping mechanism-secret hideout-necessity for income-joy.

Man, it feels good to be back.

Tomorrow I start. Today, I read! Let me know in the comments what YOU'RE reading. Or hell, even what you're writing if you feel like it.

I've missed you all! :)

XOXO
Sommer

I'm reading two awesome books. Here goes:

Under Construction

I'm starting to clean up the side bar and weed out old stuff. And add some stuff, and delete some stuff, and blog and other shit. Bear with me. Or dog. That's a dog, not a bear. So dog with me as I proceed to blog the blogs again. *fist pump*
XOXOS

I am not dead...

I know I've said that before. But I am not dead. My attitude about a lot of stuff I used to do often has been...well, see above. But I've got myself situated and I've found my writing joy again and I will be blogging again soon. Along with writing a new thing with the stuff and the sexy...

In the meantime, I hope everyone is doing well and full of badassery! Can anyone fucking believe it's May? No? Me either.

XOXO
Sommer

Half Way, Bitches...

Sorry I was swaying to invisible music. Also, here's the easy peasy link to the book I talked about. Girl Boss. Rock it like a girl. :)

Don't forget to let me know how you're faring with #NaNo!

XOXO
Sommer

How To Kill Your Mother In Home Depot In Just One Easy Step

So last night J picks me up for dinner and to run around and just do whatever. We eat at a new place (for him). An 'old people' place, meaning in there we were spring chickens. And then the excitement comes--we have to stop at Home Depot for brass brads. I know what you're thinking: Stop! the excitement is too much! But as an aside, being with someone who makes everything seem fun is pretty awesome.

NOW back to my story! We go to Home Depot and I of course, somehow, don't ask me how, end up toting hardwood for the fire pit around the whole store. I'm the only person I know who can go into a store for nothing and end up with something like that.

The brads turn out to be a bust but then...we need wood something. Not glue. Wood filler. I think. Pretty sure. Yep, that's it.

So we go down the aisles and my phone goes off, a text from girl child, and I open it up and this is what I see:



And then my heart drops out of my body and I'm dead. Thank god at that point J was carrying the big thing of wood.

Of course, J hears this horrific gasp and turns around. I'm clutching my heart and light headed but I have managed to read the very small one line message BELOW those photos that says:

"Playing with Latex"

So I show him and he starts laughing. Granted, I got the whole soothing calm down back rub circles, but the bastard laughed the whole time while blood returned to my head and my face and my brain. It felt like it has all left.

Girl child is an artist. You know that. She can draw and paint and make things with clay that are shown at the Baltimore Museum of Art. She can write and she can fucking sing. And now she's branching into the world of movie makeup. Which I love. I even bought her a magazine one time in the Barnes and Noble and J and I watch back episodes of Face Off with her religiously. But that almost killed me.

So he's chuckling and my hands stop shaking enough for me to call her on my cell and I'm like "Uh...you think next time you can send me a message before that says something like: HEY I'M GONNA SEND SOME MAKEUP PICS. I AM NOT DYING. I DO NOT NEED PARAMEDICS?"

He's still fucking laughing. She's baffled. And apologetic. And finally I say, "But good job, though."
"What?"
"Good job. I literally thought I was going to pass out. That means you did a good fucking job."

And then for a few hours I still felt like I'd left my heart near the wood filler in Home Depot.

The end.

XOXO
Sommer

NaNoWhyMe...? aka WTF Am I Thinking?

Not sure why I decided to do this. J said because when you run there's no blood in your brain. I'm starting to think he's right. But if you're doing NaNo too, join me. Eep!


XOXO
Sommer
p.s. Happy Halloweenie. Here is my punkin :) (little graphic courtesy of J)

Speaking of Spooky Reads...FREE Halloween Read

Speaking of spooky reads (like I was yesterday) I'm part of Circlet Press's countdown to Halloween. My free micro fiction story "Din-Din" is up today on their site. Read my story, go back and read the previous, then turn around and read forward. Read, read, read! And buy a Circlet book or three while you're at it.

Happy Halloweenie (countdown).

XOXO
Sommer