Perseid Meteor Shower

I wish I could somehow orchestrate a huge blog meetup this Thursday. Tap into the science fiction of Star Trek to transport whoever wanted to come see the Perseid meteor shower with me that evening.

The Perseids are a meteor show that comes about because of Earth's orbital progress through a comet's debris field (in this case, it's comet Swift-Tuttle). They're called the Perseids because they seem to emanate from the constellation Perseus, which is also known as the Seven Sisters... and some of you may be amused to note that the name of this constellation in Japanese is Subaru... which is why the Subaru logo has seven stars in its design.

I LOVE meteor showers. I'm a big old geek. Astronomy fascinates me... I'm far too mathematically challenged to deal with the physics of the science, but I love thinking about the stars and planets, and our place in space (hey, that rhymed!). I'm one of those weirdos that VOLUNTARILY goes to an educational planetarium show, just because I love looking at the night sky so much.

And then add in the excitement of a meteor shower... which is, basically, a whole night of guaranteed shooting stars... and I'm in heaven (no pun intended). Every shooting star is a wish granted, a little magic sprinkled into the world, and man do I ever need some magic this month.

I know a great place to watch it, too. There's a little turnoff on highway 276 just before you get to Caesar's Head state park. It's a really fun twisty-turny-windy road that goes up and up and up through the mountains... although I do prefer driving during the day because the scenery is incredible. At night, though, there's no lights or any cars on the road, and once you get to Bald Rock, you can see for miles in three directions.

Here's a picture of the view from Bald Rock: 

It's the perfect place for stargazing... I went there last December when the Leonids came to town. It was amazing, I saw a fireball in the sky. I also made a hyoooooge thermos of hot chocolate (like, a damn half gallon of hot chocolate - I swear!) and when we got too cold we made a fire on the mountain and ate s'mores and drank hot chocolate and my God, weren't we the kings of creation on that particular evening...

Ah, pardon me, I'm rambling... I'll get back to writing about writing tomorrow, I promise.

Surfin' Saturday

Howdy, all!

On a whim I've decided to share with y'all some funny and/or interesting stuff I found around the internet this week. A lot of people really liked the turtle I posted yesterday so I thought I'd share some other stuff too!

I think I may have mentioned once or twice how much I love Star Wars, so it was a given for me to share Señor Vader!

Do you know about the LHC project? LHC stands for the Large Hadron Collider, and it's one of the most interesting projects out there! The scientists working on the LHC are trying to isolate the particles that are responsible for starting our universe! What's even cooler is that they've found a way to turn the sounds of decaying particles into music! Check it out here.

This is kind of a long entry, so I'll put the rest behind a jump. Click "read more" to see the rest of this week's findings!

Century Post!

So this is my 100th post to this journal! Whooo!

I'm pretty proud of what I've accomplished with this blog in the last eight months. I've posted consistently, documented my journey as a first-time novelist, and made some great friends along the way. And some of you must like what I have to say, because I now have 144 followers! I can't believe it!

Thanks to every single one of you for your kindness, support, and positive energy you've sent my way. I never expected anything like this when I started this blog. I'm overwhelmed at the amount of amazing writers and bloggers I've met since I started this journey.

And the journey is just starting to ramp up... with KillerCon on the way (don't worry, I'll be giving you a full report *salutes*), other conventions to plan for, editing on the novel close to being finished, a new novel to research and start a timeline for, short stories to polish and/or compose, a website to launch (later this month!), and a whole lot more... I hope you'll stick around for what's coming up next.

And as for other things coming up next, remember that Pay it Forward contest I had a couple of months ago? The winner was Karen G from Coming Down the Mountain. I bought a copy of her book (as per the contest prize rules) and expect to finish it this weekend! So keep an eye out for my review next week, and I'll also be posting an interview with Karen!

There's a lot of stuff to work on this weekend... finalizing business cards for KillerCon, working on the edits for the novel, practicing for the contest at the convention, finishing up Karen's book and writing a review, getting short story submissions ready for upcoming deadlines. I'm so looking forward to the days when I can do this full-time and not cram it into weekends. But until then, I'll just keep on going for as long as I can and try not to get in this guy's predicament:



Sometimes I feel like this when I am editing... Almost there, almost there, almost... wait a sec... WHAT needs to be revised again?! Where am I in this book, anyway?!

I'm sure y'all can identify. ;)

Have a FANTASTIC weekend, friends!

Working and Working and...

Thanks to everybody who commented on Tuesday's Summer in the South entry. I posted one of those last month as well, and I hope I'm not being tiresome, but I'm working on a little project... at least one entry a month detailing whatever season it is, and how it relates to the South. June, July and August are my summer entries. September, October, November are autumn... December, January, February winter... March, April, May spring. Then next year I want to read them all in succession, maybe make a little story out of them. What do y'all think?

I've been working on editing again after being away for over a week. I was my sister's "hospital buddy" as she had surgery last week, and I wasn't able to do anything with the book while taking care of her... then when I finally got some time for myself again, a strange apathy had stolen into my muscles and bones, and all I wanted to do was read Stephen King stories and avoid my needing-to-be-pruned novel. I was able to get back into it last night, though, and I got another twenty pages or so carved out. Hopefully this is a sign that the struggle is lessening.

And my treacherous muse continues to taunt me with good ideas for short stories, ideas I would MUCH rather be working on instead of editing the novel. Currently I'm working on a steampunk short, for the upcoming steampunk deadline at Fissure magazine. I've already been published in Fissure, but I've never written a steampunk story, and I thought it would be fun to try my hand at it... and of course, it's yet another way to avoid the work that needs to be done on the novel. Gah!

Then there's the "death and shoes" short that still needs to be edited, and a host of other short pieces I could be working on to send out... but the novel just hangs over my head like a little raincloud made of pages. I want it to be DONE. Especially before I head to Vegas next month for KillerCon. I want to get the edited copy out to my first readers so I can have a clean copy to push to agents ASAP. Of course, I'd also like a mansion built out of ice cream sandwiches, and my very own pony. We'll see how it goes.

How are y'all doin? Anything exciting going on in your neck of the woods? Got any advice for me, to help me stay on task with the editing? How 'bout plans for the weekend?

Hope y'all have a fantastic Saturday and Sunday.

Summer in the South, II

July.

The pomp and circumstance of the Glorious Fourth has receded like outgoing tide and all that's left is the flat dull surface of superheated asphalt. June's hopeful beginnings lie deep in the past, dreaming in shady pools of memory. Now it's July, down-to-business summertime. Every day is the same: A stretched-out cavalcade of heat and humidity, punctuated by the occasional evening thunderstorm.

Tempers are short. Businesses crank up the A/C, even at 2 AM. Store windows are filmy with condensation, transforming everyday clear-cut interiors to surreal fogscapes. Old men sit on intersection corners beneath unraveling beach umbrellas, selling sugar-baby watermelons and boiled peanuts off their pickup trucks' rusting tailgates. Fans turn lazily on front porches; an ice-choked glass of sweet tea with lemon is the only thing that satisfies.

Children easily found just two weeks before, lustily parading in freedom from organized education, are nowhere to be seen. They hide in the air-conditioned shadows of their houses, their friends' houses; when their mothers shoo them outside to play they cluster in any air-conditioned spot they can find: shopping malls, grocery stores, bowling alleys, swimming pools, libraries. Even though they won't admit it to each other, part of them aches for the long, climate-controlled hours of school.

It's not just the kids. Everyone is off the streets, out of the sun, in the A/C; at 3 in the afternoon everything is bright and hot and still. There's not a car on the street, not a moving shadow to be seen. Outside the bees and butterflies have become true monarchs and the people have given quarter to the elements, for now. The only sad souls out in this oven of an afternoon are those who have to be, and when they make eye contact with each other, a silent plea seems to pass between them - is it five yet?

Mimosa trees are wilting, losing their color and scent; the few blackberries left on bushes are picked over by birds and baked in the heat, nothing but rounded clumps of coal clustered on the briars. In contrast, crepe myrtles bloom in florid hues of red and pink and purple. Trees - only a month ago vibrant and green with new summer gloss - are a tired and uniform shade, blending into each other like one huge organism.

The day drags on and heads into evening; all the while, sunlight hours grow imperceptibly shorter with each passing day. Softball games are won and lost. The tantalizing smell of grilling meat floats in the air of every subdivision. Sprinklers run endlessly - hish-hish-hish-hish-hissssssshhhh... A yellow rind of moon rises in the darkening sky. The evening star hangs on the lip of the horizon like a wet beauty mark. Everything is sleepy, soporific. Everything is slow.

Everything is summertime.

The Soundtrack of Your Life

On Monday, Arlee Bird is hosting a blogfest called The Soundtrack of Your Life. Here's what he says about it:

This coming Monday June 19th you will have the opportunity to join us in sharing the songs that have special meaning in your life. Tell us the songs that describe what you were going through at different stages of your life. Tell us about the music that tells something about you. Create your own soundtrack and post it on your site on Monday. If you like, tell us why you chose those songs.

I'll be participating in this blogfest, and I'm looking forward to sharing my songs with you. I've actually had many of these "soundtracks to my life" playlists over the years, and I want to go through the ones I have saved and pick out my favorites.

What about you? Will you be participating in this cool blogfest? I'd love to read about the songs you pick to describe yourself.

Have a great weekend, friends!

Ze Clock, She is Ticking!

The end of the month is rapidly approaching, and my mini-vacation is coming to an end. I'm looking forward to it... this has been a great month to do whatever I want, but it's gonna be really great to get back into the universe I created and start moving stuff around. I feel like revision is shaping the raw material I've created. Yes, a good deal of it is pretty clean. But I can make it better... sharper. I want it to sing.

Almost finished with my erotic horror flash. Next I'm going to polish up a short I started a couple of years ago but never finished. I figure it's about five pages from the end. If I can get it down right, I'll have another piece to add to my portfolio. It's pretty exciting to see that expanding, because it means I can group them together into an anthology before too much longer. This isn't unheard of in the horror genre; Joe Hill published an anthology of his short fiction before he published his first novel, and it did so well, he got a contract with Harper-Collins.

I've sent out queries to Weird Tales and Dark Discoveries about the pieces they still have (Weird Tales has had "Knights of the Road" for a little over three months; Dark Discoveries has had "Watched" since January), and I'm hoping to hear back soon on them. In the meantime, I'll have new stuff to send out in the next couple of weeks, and that makes me happy.

Another exciting thing: my website will be up and running soon. I want to get it rolling before I head to KillerCon in August. There probably won't be a whole lot at first, but I can't wait to share it with y'all. I'm taking business cards to the convention with me and I want to have the website ready for who might be visiting...

...but before all that kicks into high gear, I'm enjoying the last week of June. Next Sunday there'll be fireworks; until then, I'm chillin out. So - you didn't think I'd forgotten about Music Monday, did you? Here's one of my favorite "chill" songs for you to enjoy... hope it brings a little calm blue ocean into your Monday.



What's going on in your life? Anything you're particularly excited about? Need to kick back and relax for a couple of days? You're not stressing in the summer heat, are ya? Remember, friends... the comment section is always open.

Have a great Monday!

Progress

A most happy Friday to you, my friend!

I'm nearing the end of my self-enforced hiatus from the book, and I'm looking forward to jumping back in. I'm picking it up on Monday, July 5th after giving myself a complete month off from the project. At first I thought a month wouldn't be enough - hahaha, I was SICK of it after I finished - but now I'm really looking forward to diving back in to the manuscript.

This'll be my first revision of my first manuscript, so it's all new to me. Another adventure, another step in the process to getting published. I'm still writing in the time off, although I'm not pressuring myself to produce very much. I've finished the short story I was working on, and have started a new piece. This one is a flash fiction for the convention in August.

Yep, there's a horror erotica flash fiction contest at KillerCon this year and I've already started working on my piece. You have to read your piece aloud in three minutes or less, so I want to get some practice in before I head out that way. It's a fun little challenge... erotic gore... but I'm definitely up to the task.

The short story came out well, I'm letting it sit for a few days (and taking it to my writing partner) before I come back to it. Now I want to finish this flash and move on to polishing some older stuff I have. It's time to start submitting short pieces again. I still have two out in circulation but they've been out there forever. It's time to beef up my portfolio and send out some more pages.

Hope you all have amazing, if not productive, weekends.

Summer in the South

June.

Farmer's markets sprout on every corner. In their depths lie bushels of red tomatoes, juicy and ready for slicing. The bristly tips of corn peek out of a huge basket near the cash register. A pyramid of cucumbers is built next to the overflowing bins of squash. Fruit is heaped in wicker baskets everywhere - peaches, plums, blackberries, fragrant in the dim humidity.

Children are everywhere - on skateboards, on bikes, on rollerblades, on bare brown feet toughened by hot asphalt and dead scratchy crabgrass. They squint against the sun's constant glare, playing games of make-believe, pretending sticks are swords and trees are forts. They cluster in pockets of shade, trading stories, making plans. The ice cream truck circles endlessly, its tinkling melody maddening in the heat.

That heat is merciless and demanding, leaching every ounce of energy from your flesh as you work your way through the morning and into the afternoon. Air-conditioning is a given in any business; the silky rush of climate control on your skin as you step from the sweltering parking lot to the cool interior of a bank (or grocery store or restaurant) is shocking and sweet. The heat pushes its hands into your face and runs its fingers over your scalp, prickling and uncomfortable. It rides on your shoulders and settles in the fork of your crotch. It kisses your face with wet smacks and makes you wish for the deepest recesses of winter - although such tremendous heat makes you question if the season ever existed at all.

Every afternoon a thunderstorm rolls in, hiding the horizon's blue mountains with a scrim of gunmetal gray. Clouds tower in the southeast, rolling over and over like strange dough worked by huge invisible hands. Trees whip back and forth, whispering together in an uneasy chorus. The skies open and rain cascades in sheets so thick you can see it on the road, moving like a curtain of water. Thunder roars overhead; lightning spikes the horizon with a crooked finger. Fifteen minutes later the sky is blue-over-pink and cloudy tendrils of steam hang over the blacktop like restless ghosts. In the distance, a brilliant rainbow marks the passing storm's edge.

As the sun sinks below the horizon the fireflies appear one by one, stuttering coded messages to each other from across the yard. The twitter of birds is replaced by the constant reeeeee of crickets and cicadas, a chorus which stretches into the wee hours of the morning. The humidity presses sweaty hands on your skin.

A glass of sweet tea, the rind of a lemon dancing in the liquid as you drink. Ice cubes chatter against the glass; the condensation makes it slippery. The bed calls you, promising you can wake up early to do the things you had planned for the evening. You slip between cool sheets and let your exhaustion melt into the mattress, knowing you'll probably be unable to get up early but too tired to care. The day plays through your mind as you drift off, the humming circle of fan blades above lulling you into sleep.

And then up in the morning to do it all over again.

Better Late than Never... And an Award!

I'm late posting today! I've been trying to post entries before I go to bed (but after midnight) so the post is ready when YOU, dear readers, wake up in the morning... but last night I was just too tired. I had a meeting with my writing partner last night and we talked about the end of my book. Some serious revisions are going to have to be done, and it was a mentally exhausting conversation... just the thought of diving back in to that manuscript to re-tackle the end makes me want to crawl under my covers and sleep for two weeks. I came home and tried to work it but my brain just didn't want to, so I changed tactics and started working on the short story I mentioned on Monday. 1,700 words effortlessly poured out onto the keyboard and I was zonked. I'm excited about what I have so far, though - it's dark but whimsical, and I'm having fun being ANYWHERE besides the universe of my novel. That makes me feel kind of guilty to say, but I think it's understandable.

I would like to say that I'm eternally grateful to my writing partner for her patience and honesty and dedication... without her, I wouldn't HAVE a novel. So thanks, Gail Gray, for all your hard work in helping me birth this particular baby. Your opinions and advice are beyond measure. Thank you so much.

I've been given an award!

JL Stratton at True Life and Fiction gave me this award. Thanks so much, JL!! You guys should check out JL's blog - it's a great read!

For this award, I am asked to write seven stories. I've chosen to write six true stories and one lie. Can you pick out which one is the lie?

1. I went to a special arts program when I was in high school, and I was in a class taught by Maya Angelou.

2. My roommates sometimes call me "Pan" and the last time I went to the beach, I woke up people in hotels four blocks away by crowing at the ocean.

3. I love Star Wars so much, I quote Han Solo's lines in my sleep.

4. I have a list of things I feel need to be accomplished before the Zombie Apocalypse happens, i.e. learning to ride a motorcycle, shoot a gun, kill a person with a spork, etc.

5. After setting up a bowling party for Nickleback in April, I got to work with the local radio station to set up a bowling event for Lady Gaga in July. She's going to bowl in one of her crazy costumes for charity.

6. Last Halloween I dressed up as Max from Where the Wild Things are, complete with crown, scepter, and wolf costume. I was the King of the Wild Things on Halloween, and what a responsibility to mayhem that was...

7. I wrote my entire 124,000 word novel on my laptop while sitting in bed.

The lies and truth will be separated tomorrow... but until then, you got a guess?

Have a great HUMP DAY, all! :D

Still Shiny

Not yet... no, the shiny hasn't worn off yet. I'm still getting used to this feeling. I've been pushing myself for the last ten months, and now suddenly all that pressure is gone. It's such a crazy sensation - part accomplishment, part happiness, part awe, part excitement... liberation... and everywhere I look are new projects, new stories. Every idea I come across excites me. I've been hyper-focused on one thing for so long, I feel like a person who's been denied everything but grilled cheese sandwiches for a year and is now standing at the doors of a super buffet. I want to try everything!

Friday night I was drifting off to sleep and my mind automatically turned to the book. For the better part of a year, every night as I fall asleep I think about the novel and where it's going, what the next scene is, characters, etc. On Friday night I suddenly realized I had nothing to think about, because the project was done! I changed tactics and started thinking about a little concept I'd stumbled across a couple of weeks ago, and suddenly a short story fell into my head. Whole, Complete. I'm going to write it this week. How cool is that?!

Hmmmm? What's it about? Oh! You know those shoes you see on the road sometimes? Just one random shoe, out in the middle of the highway? Yeah... it's about where those come from. Ha, weird, I know. But I think it'll be a fun little story to write.

Oh, and the South Carolina Writers' Conference opened their registration this weekend. Who's got two thumbs and is going to that conference in October?


No, not Captain Kirk... but that was a good guess, considering the misleading picture above. Although that WOULD be incredibly awesome... But anyway, the answer is ME! I'm going! Wahoo!

For Music Monday, I'd like to share the song "Can You Feel It?" by the Jackson 5... because that's how I'm rolling today. Give it a chance, it's a fantastic song, and it's pretty much how I feel right now...



Indescribable happiness here today. How about you?

Last Mile

You know that feeling you get when you've been in the car for hours and hours, and you're about half an hour from your destination?

When you've studied your brains out, and you wake up with butterflies on exam day?

Painted a whole bedroom and have come down to just the trim?

Climbed the sand dune between you and the ocean, ignoring your protesting muscles and joints, and have nearly reached the summit - so close you can taste salt on your lips and the sound of the surf is thundering in your ears?

Dirt (the WIP) has reached its 395th page, and nearly 115,000 words...

...the monster has been revealed, evil momentarily has the upper hand, murder's been committed, kisses have been stolen, the storm has come and gone and left a wet, ominous silence punctuated only by the occasional rumble of distant thunder out past the horizon...

...the hero has gone off to slay the proverbial dragon, and we don't know yet whether he'll live or die...

...we're nearly there now, kids. Hang on now; this last part might get bumpy.

Hello, Random Friday

Happy Friday, friends!

Welcome to all my new followers! I'm overwhelmed at the response I've gotten to the Pay it Forward Giveaway. Not only have I received 31 new followers, but so many people have been spreading the word via their blogs, facebook pages, and twitter. I'm amazed!

I said I was going to point you in the direction of a few of my favorite entries... In February, I talked about sleepwriting and introduced my phrase, "the Clark Kent job" (which, if you stick around, you'll probably hear me say every now and again). In March we discussed pacing yourself in big projects and never giving up regardless of how many rejections I get. And last month, during Arlee Bird's A to Z blog challenge, I shared what I thought about the concept of found stories and how I use auditory detail in my fiction. There are some fun places to start in there; I hope you enjoy them.

I had the honor of reading over the first draft of the screenplay for Plateye with Curtis and Shane from Mooks in the Movies, and I had a lot of fun. Has anybody else out there thought about writing a screenplay? I do love fiction, but reading a script has put me in the mood to try something new...

I'll be working at the Clark Kent job all weekend, at a fun little event here in Upstate SC called Freedom Weekend Aloft. It should be fun, but I will be in charge of our booth for all shifts on all days, which means I'll be working 50+ hours over the weekend. This comes at a CRAPTASTIC time for me, as you know, because I'm desperately trying to finish my WIP novel. I know it won't be the end of the world if I finish in June, but I'm so close, and I really want to hit that goal of being finished in May if I can. Also, I've reached the point where the story is fairly flying along, but I just don't have the time I need to devote to hours of getting it out. I'm serious. I'll be writing and writing and writing, and when I look up at the clock, four hours have passed. Sleep... what is that, again?

I'm wearing my grandfather's dog tags today. They're helping me remember a few things: patience, courage, determination. In everything I do - working, writing, living, I want to try to keep those ideals in mind. It's also fitting that I'm wearing them this close to Memorial Day - they help me remember the sacrifices he, and every American soldier, have made in order to ensure our continued liberty.

I hope y'all have a great weekend. I'll be back Monday (if I live through Freedom Weekend) with a full report on how things are going. Until then, friends.

X-Ray Specs

So we've reached the last week of Arlee Bird's A to Z blog challenge, and probably the hardest letter in the alphabet. I thought about this all night long, and I kept coming back to these crazy glasses. I always wished I had a pair of these when I was a kid.

Sometimes, I still imagine what it would be like to have some x-ray specs. Imagine what it would be like to... hey, stop being naughty, I didn't even get to finish my sentence!

As writers, we have a kind of built-in x-ray vision, don't we? We see through the top layers of the mundane to the fabulous items underneath. Using the x-ray specs of our imaginations, we have the ability to observe pretty much anything we want. We can see through reality, and use it as fodder for our wild imaginations. We can turn any person, any situation, any object we see into something that isn't quite as it seems.

Now, I want you to imagine you've got a pair of these on your face right now. Look around the room. Can you see the intricate wiring in your computer? What about the energy flowing out of the power socket, up the power cord, and into your PC? What does the inside of your desk look like? Look through your walls. See any mice?

Look at your hand... you can see right through the thin covering of flesh to the bones and tendons beneath. You can do this; you've got a great imagination. Your x-ray specs are built in, remember? Look at the veins in your hand, the way the smooth panels of muscle are knit together. Cross your index and middle fingers. See the X your bones make?

Let's look through the mundane world today and see what we find. How much can we uncover to put into our work? Use your imagination, friend! I give you full permission to pretend you are ten years old today. What will you see with your mental x-ray specs?

Vigilant and Virtuous

I can't help but remember this scene from V for Vendetta when I think of the letter V. Our friend Evey has just been saved from certain deflowering and possible death by a mysterious stranger in a Guy Fawkes mask.

Evey Hammond: Who are you?

V: Who? Who is but the form following the function of what, and what I am is a man in a mask.

Evey Hammond: Well, I can see that.

V: Of course you can. I'm not questioning your powers of observation; I'm merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.

Evey Hammond: Oh. Right.

V: But on this most auspicious of nights, permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace sobriquet, to suggest the character of this dramatis persona.
Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.
Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me... V.

Evey Hammond: Are you like a crazy person?

V: I am quite sure they will say so. But to whom, might I ask, am I speaking with?

Evey Hammond: I'm Evey.

V: Evey? E-V. Of course you are.

Evey Hammond: What does that mean?

V: It means that I, like God, do not play with dice and I don't believe in coincidences.

And neither do I. I believe everything happens for a reason, every choice we made in the past leads us to where we are now, and that we are all exactly where we are supposed to be. My whole life has a purpose. It's up to me to define what it is. I'm answering the creative voice inside me; I've stopped denying I am a conduit for the universe to speak through, and given myself over entirely to the calling. I'm choosing this profession, this lifestyle, this quest with open eyes and arms. Every decision I make is chosen with the future in mind, and it's starting to show more and more in my everyday life, flashing through in brief glimpses. It's just enough to keep me going, at least for one more day.

I refuse to give up. I will succeed.

And so will you, friend. All you have to do is listen to what you really want... and you truly have the power to make it happen. Your project. Your brainchild. Your heart's desire. I believe in you! What vigilant and virtuous action are you taking to realize your dream today?

Lycanthropy Awareness

Midnight on the mountain is dark and breezy. Fluttering hems of clouds wisp across the moon like rotting lace. From the west, a lone howl lifts up into the sky, echoing across the hills. Your skin is cold, a sharp contrast to the warm evening. An itch spreads under your flesh. Your belly cramps and you fall to your knees, the howl reverberating against your eardrums even though it's faded from the air. Your eyes bulge in their sockets as you feel your body seize.

Your nostrils flare as their diameter suddenly expands. You feel your scalp prickle and begin to bleed as chunks of hair shove through your skin. You raise your hands, hold them in front of your contorted face. They're twisted and locked into grotesque shapes. White knuckles, straining digits, fingernails rippling and popping as they thicken and extend into points. Your ears elongate, every sound intensifying until even the wind in the grass is a thunderous chorus, washing over your senses in an unrelenting flood.

Minute ripping noises reach your ears, sliding in under the dissipating howl's echo. Your shirt stretches and tears into long strips as your torso elongates and widens. You feel ribs rearrange, crackling under the blunt shelves of your expanding muscles. Your bones pull and lengthen, groaning like weathered planks of wood.

You rear your head back, eyes streaming as they dilate and darken. Moonlight washes over your retinas and just for a second you see veins in your eyes, backlit by the hateful blue kiss of Luna. A gathering roar fills your throat. Your larynx expands, straining with the force of your answering howl. The sound pushes past your quivering, thickening lips just as the merciful curtain of animalistic thought drops over your rational mind.

The last thing you clearly process is the sensation of cool dew on your forelegs as you lope easily down the mountain, tatters of clothing hanging like streamers from your haunches and shoulders.

There's a werewolf in each of us - the stranger with the face we don't recognize. We pull it out for examination every once in a while, and some people don't like what they see, don't appreciate what's revealed. Your inner beast only cares for its own needs and desires. Its selfishness appalls us and fascinates us at the same time. We keep it at arm's length, wondering if we should give in to its alluring song... Come with me, it says, Come with me, and I'll show you what life really is.

Are you listening?