E. Napier's Blog, page 2

Flexibility... I Hate You

I'm not good with change. Actually, let me rephrase that: Change gives me hives and makes me utterly and completely stabby. It's not pretty. I know this about myself and work to keep change and chaos at bay. Lots of lists, an iron will that is fueled by coffee, and a crazed need for perfection all help me keep change and chaos firmly in check.

Yeah, spare me the quotes about how change is good for you, how you need to go with the flow, yada yada. It gives me hives. For real.

So here I am, my day planned to the minute as I prep for Ren Faire auditions tomorrow, company tomorrow night, catching up from playing hookey yesterday, and trying to get slightly further on the second novel... You can see where this is going, right? Yep, BAM, sick kid. I know he's really sick because he's giving up an all day field trip where they're taking actual nice buses instead of the ubiquitous yellow school buses.

I haven't gotten the front rooms shaken out, the Schnoodle hasn't been walked yet, and the kitchen needs some serious attention. Did I mention company cleaning plus a huge pile of paperwork that must be done today??? I'm moving slowly, there's people underfoot, and my list seems to be looming like some big, looming, mocking thing.

Sigh. The Universe is trying to teach me to be flexible again. I wish it would stop. We both know what's going to happen -- I'll fail the lesson, end up cranky and stabby, and no one will enjoy the day. Well, the Turtle will because I have to clean his tank and he loves the freedom to try and catch the Schnoodle. Ok, thatwill be hysterical because there's nothing like watching a Yellow-Bellied Slider attempt to chase a seventeen pound, poncy Schnoodle who is fleeing in utter terror. The dedication the Turtle shows in this is pretty inspiring.

That's it! I shall focus on the day like the Turtle focuses on the Schnoodle. I may not catch it, but I'll sure as Hell put the fear of God into it!

I Have a Case of the Snarlies

It's been too long since I had the time to make my creative projects a priority. By that, I mean I haven't written in a week, maybe more. Time gets away from me, fatigue enters into the picture, and I just end up so damned overwhelmed I can't even think about my own life, let alone the lives of my characters. This doesn't happen often because I am a huge proponent of disciplined art. When it does, however, my entire mood shifts and I get a serious case of the Snarlies.

The Snarlies are a mood when everyone rubs you the wrong way, no matter who they are. I tend to feel like a cat who is being petted against the grain of my fur. When the Snarlies get really bad, I feel like every nerve ending is standing three inches out of my skin, waiting to be aggravated. You look at your loved ones and all you can see are reasons why you didn't get that last chapter done. The resentment builds until you can't even think about being around people. They've done absolutely nothing to cause this. It's simply a lack of prioritizing on your own part, but they bear the brunt of it. It's not a pleasant feeling for anyone involved.

When you can recognize the Snarlies, it helps. Of course, for me, it takes a few days before I realize why I'm so grumpy, why I'm plotting the demise of everyone I see, why I simply want to be cuddled then immediately left alone then cuddled some more and why the Hell don't you read my mind and understand that, huh??? By that time, the family is ready to ship me to Siberia -- even the Schnoodle. (The Turtle couldn't give a crap because, hey, he's a turtle and a complete bad ass. If he ever got out of his tank on his own, we'd be in trouble)

How to fix the Snarlies? Is it possible? For me, it usually takes vast amounts of chocolate and booze. Unfortunately, since I'm in the middle of a lifestyle change (i.e. my doctor told me to stop with the emotional eating, get my ass outside and moving every day, and to cut back on the wine... Talk about a blow!), I'm having to figure out how to destroy the Snarlies without my usual crutches. It is not a pleasant or easy task, especially during Cadbury Cream Egg season. Therefore, today, after I've done my Power Walk through the neighborhood (and the subsequent Power Drag of the Schnoodle when he gets tired of our pace and distance), I'm going to make sure things are tidy and settle in to write. Nothing else today. I have a book file to re-edit for print and I need to get the second novel through it's first editing and finished.

Wish me luck! I need to get back to a more friendly, happy mien and soon because it's too damned cold in Siberia.

Give-Aways Ahoy!

I love my Kindle. It carries tons of books without taking up a lot of space -- handy when traveling. However, there is one thing I miss, having an author sign my book. So, as a thank you to all of the folks who purchased the Kindle version of Promises Kept, I'm offering a little token of my appreciation!

A signed sticker of the cover! How do you get one of these pretty darned cool stickers? It's nice and simple. Head over to my Facebook page Flights of Fancies and upload a photo of your Kindle copy of "Promises Kept." I'll send you a message to get your address and your signed sticker will be on its way!

New Blog, New Look,

I write more than just serials, as evidenced by that novel over there on Amazon.com, Promises Kept, that erotic short story over there on Clean Sheets e-zine, The Hair Brush (by erotic, I mean erotic and not for those easily offended or under 18) and a few other pieces in various other places. So, I've decided to shut down this particular blog and transfer everything to a more inclusive writing blog.  You'll be able to find my writing-related musings, updates on projects, specials (hint, there's a give-away in the works!), and anything else I can think of with my twisted brain pan.

Change your links and follow me! It's going to be a Hell of an adventure!

Decisions and Random Musings on Perfectionism

I want to be able to do it all. It doesn't seem like too much to ask -- just go without sleep so I have an additional eight hours a day to pursue all of those irons I have in the fire. Yeah. This does not actually work, no matter how many energy drinks or how much  coffee you ingest.So, what does any self-respecting Virgo and extreme perfectionist do? Why run themselves (body, mind, and soul) into the ground because they know if they try harder they'll be able to push through the boundaries of time and space and make their days longer.

Ahem... Needless to say, it took a week's vacation to make me take a long, hard look at my daily grind and how it was affecting not just me and my family, but my projects and creativity as well. If I'm busy flitting from project to project, nothing will get accomplished. I need to focus a bit. Ok, I need to focus a lot and narrow down my field of pursuits.

With the Renaissance Faire season coming, my sewing will be taking off. That's hard cash in hand. Cash in hand is always a priority.

Jewelry is not as necessary right now til I get a few things cleared off my plate so I can experiment. I have a huge sheaf of ideas hanging out in my design notebook. I'll keep adding an refining to those designs and ideas and be ready to go when I have a free day.

Writing -- here is where I struggle the most. I have so many stories in my head that I want to write them all RIGHT NAO. NAO NAO NAO. Obviously, this does not work at all. I'm going to concentrate on two projects. First, the second novel in the Khardas series is so close to being done. That is my top priority. Second, I want to collect my flash fiction and short stories and see if there's enough there to publish a folio. Anything else can wait til the second novel is published. That includes the serial.

It's hard when you want to do everything, when there are more ideas and projects than there is time in the day. I can't scatter myself any more. Focus is the name of the game. I'll get it all done... Eventually.

Internet and Computer Issues

I'm currently at my mother's for internet. There's a small cat, a mostly comfy chair, and tea, lots of trea. All in all, not a bad place to go when your internet is down. However, it's bloody well impossible to write. So, I'm spending my time here working on other projects. The serial will be finished this evening and uploaded tomorrow when our new modem gets here.

Wish me luck! The cat is trying to eat my earbuds.

Desert Shadows, Chapter Three

  “Look at all of them,” Hasibah broke away from Thorin as they entered the courtyard. Her eyes were wide with astonishment as she slowly spun in a circle, trying to take it all in. Every inch of the courtyard walls was covered in trailing vines that hung heavy with flowers. She grinned over her shoulder at the older man and held her hands out in utter delight, “It’s magical! Not even the Djinn have anything like this!” “Because they don’t listen to the lands, Hasibah,” Thorin dropped onto a bench with a sigh and watched her explore the tiny courtyard. Thorin stretched out his legs, “The desert has hidden beauty but you can’t force it. You have to encourage it.” Hasibah chuckled but it was not a sound of amusement, “And the Djinn are masters at forcing things to bend to their will.” Thorin tilted his head, his gaze sharpening as Hasibah turned away to dip her hands into the tiny fountain at the center of the courtyard, “Bend yes, but some do not break,” he leaned over and broke off a two thin, greenish-grey stems from the plant beside him and offered one to her, “Hollath. Children here chew it as a treat,” he chewed his own stem for a moment, looking away in thought. “The djinn took me from my parents because they needed strong children to work in the mines. They weren’t bad masters when we were young. There were treats and breaks and plenty to eat,’ he shook his head, “Never had I seen so much food. As we grew older, that changed. Breaks were gone and the food dwindled til only the strongest of us managed to mine without beatings.” “The djinn love children,” Hasibah spoke around the twig as she sat beside him. She had seen the children in the mines. Her father had shown them to her as examples of the kindness that the djinn showed the primitive people they cared for. He never showed her the adults for they were dangerous, like wild animals. “Yes, but their love is a terrible love for they treat the adults as animals in cages,” Thorin glanced at the young woman beside him and studied her for a moment. She seemed to look beyond the walls of the courtyard in thought. “You haven’t spoken of your place with them. Were you one of their Companions?” She stiffened and shrugged, “There’s little to tell,” she took her time turning to face him. She had lain awake at night trying to come up with a story and now was the time that she had to test it. Hasibah settled in next to Thorin. She liked him. He was kind and funny. Please, let this work. “I was a Companion to the High Djinn’s daughter. We grew up together. I had the same lessons that she did, ate the same foods, dressed the same way. I was her shadow.” Thorin turned her to face him, “The High Djinn? Really,” at her nod, he shook a little, “Do you know anything about them that could help us?” Hasibah shrank back against his hands, “I don’t know anything, I was just around his daughter and he never was. He rarely saw her except at public rites.” There was real fear in her eyes and Thorin dropped his hands quickly. The girl’s cheeks were waxen and her breathing was loud and harsh in the still courtyard. He cleared his throat, “I’m sorry. We’re fighting so hard that any information could save lives.” He stood and offered her his hand. Hasibah managed a smile, “Could I stay here for a bit longer? It’s so peaceful.” Thorin nodded and left the courtyard, pausing only to glance back at the woman seated on the stone bench. She was staring at the fountain, her expression unreadable. The fact that she had been the Companion to the High Djinn’s daughter was interesting. He would have to report that to Nazim immediately. Companions were their Djinn counterparts in many ways. She would have stood between the Djinn girl and attackers, stood in for her at public rites, been the girl in so many ways. He would have to tread carefully so as not to scare the girl, but she would have to be questioned at some point. Some point very soon. Hasibah sighed and leaned forward, dropping her face into her hands. The story had worked but at what price? She knew she could not pull off posing as a slave or servant. But now they would be interested in her for her knowledge. Why did she mention her father? She pushed off the bench and shook herself, taking a moment to square her shoulders and push back her hair. Her hand froze as she realized that she was reaching to adjust the veil that she no longer wore. The veil that she would never wear again.  She had two weeks to make her choice. Stay here and live a lie, always wondering if she would be caught, or return to the desert and certain death. Hasibah bent down and inhaled the heady fragrance of the tiny purple flowers that had always been her favorites. “Kimtles bloom here only because Thorin is a wizard with plants.” Hasibah spun to face Nazim. He had been so quiet! He smiled slightly, aware and amused that he had surprised her. She lifted her chin at his smile, “They are lovely. I always favored them but they are so rare.” Nazim studied her as he leaned against a pillar, “Thorin caught me in the corridor. You have had an interesting life.”  Copyright 2013
Erika Napier
Please email morningjuiceandserials <at> gmail <dot> com for information on reprinting

Working!

Despite spending most of the day splayed out on the couch, under the electric snuggie and the Schnoodle and drooling on my pillow, I am vertical and settling in the write for the rest of the night. The rai is helping, although I am secretly wishing for snow. That wonderful, fluffy, heavy snow that is iconic for this time of year. But for now, I'll take the rain because it's making me want to write.

Installment three is on its way for tomorrow, for real!

In other news, I received the most amazing review from a stranger on "Promises Kept." It has inspired me to keep writing as well as create little tokens to send to fans, since I can't sign their Kindle books. I'm sitting here with a huge, goofy grin! I'm actually doing this thing, this writing thing.

Stories and Tea

It's damned cold here. I hate it when it's sunny and cold. I can nest and snuggle in when it's grey and cold. I open all of the curtains so that I can watch as the snow falls, drifting heavily to the ground. I light candles for added warmth and dancing light. The Schnoodle and I settle in and he grumps as I write.

But when it's sunny and cold, I want to huddle under the covers. It doesn't feel "right" nesting when the sun is shining. I feel like I should be out doing something, but the cold, oh the cold. It seeps into my bones and wrestles away my energy and motivation.

So, today, the house is tidy, dinner is planned (crab enchiladas for an early birthday dinner for my husband), and I've settled in. I've turned on repeats of Gordon Ramsay TV shows aso I can pretend he's yelling at me. It makes me write more.

And with that, back to it. My soda is empty, so it is time to put the kettle on. The serial is starting to flow again. I want to get that done and set up for next Tuesday. Then the novel. Then the crab enciladas. And more writing. Lots more writing.

I am not Wonder Woman

I try to be, but I'm not. This past week has been crazy. My husband has been ill, the Boy has been off school, and I just didn't get the serial written. It's outlined, but here I am, at 9PM Monday night, and there are only three sentences on the page before me. Hell, I didn't even bake bread this afternoon, so the Boy will be nomming on bread from the last baking, last Thursday. Yep, I am not Wonder Woman.

On the plus side, the outline is done. I know how the serial will continue and that makes me happy. I love watching a story unfold, the characters develop into their own, relaitionships deepen or break... I love to write.

But for now, I'll resign myself to picking the serial up later this week. I have a birthday to plan for, changes around the house to do, middle school applications to work on, the second novel to work on, marketing of the first novel... Tonight, I shall contemplate an early bedtime since the rest of the week promises to continue being crazy.

Tonight I shall rest and tomorrow I shall write.