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An Interview with Becca Puglisi

This one is rather special to me as it features one of the folks who really helped me improve my work. Without this lovely writer, and her co-author, I’d still be struggling with rewrites.

R.w.Foster: Please introduce yourself to my readers.IMG_3114

Becca Puglisi: Hi, there! My name is Becca Puglisi, and I’m one of the authors of The Emotion Thesaurus, The Positive Trait Thesaurus, and The Negative Trait Thesaurus. I also write YA historical fiction and fantasy. I also keep busy running my blog, Writers Helping Writers, which has become something of a hub for descriptive writing.

R.w.Fo: Tell us about your latest or upcoming release, please.

BP: My co-author, Angela Ackerman, and I are really excited about a totally new journey that we’re undertaking. We’ve teamed up with Lee Powell, a talented software designer, to create a software product for writers wanting to elevate their storytelling. One Stop For WritersTM is a website that contains a host of reference materials that can help writers improve. As writers ourselves, the three of us understood the frustration of always having to stop drafting, revising, or arranging our stories to go and research different things: multi-sensory descriptions for a setting, how to effectively convey a character’s emotion, figuring out which events from the past may have helped to mold a hero into who he has become. At One Stop, we’re providing resources like these, along with customizable tools and worksheets, craft tutorials on difficult areas of writing, idea generators, and more—all in one convenient place. Our hope is that in creating this software, we will also create the one thing writers really need: more time to write.

R.w.F.: Are you traditionally published, self-published, an independent or some combination?

BP: Our books are self-published.

R.w.F: What made you decide to go this route?

BP: Well, self-publishing, wasn’t our first choice. We’d always had the dream of going the traditional route—getting the call from an agent or editor and being accepted by a publisher. We had just started down this road when copycat sites starting popping up around the Internet, where people had lifted our Emotion Thesaurus content and just pasted it onto their sites. We realized that we didn’t have time to find an agent, then an editor, and wait 12-18 months for the book to be published. So we decided to do it ourselves and get it out there as fast as possible.

 

I love telling this story because it’s a great example of how there isn’t one correct path to publishing. Self-publishing made sense for us; we had a large fan base, we were firmly established on social media, and nonfiction books can do well when self-published. I’m also partnered with a marketing genius in Angela Ackerman, which was hugely beneficial. So, even though we had no idea how to do it, we knew it was the right thing to do. And it’s worked out really well for us.

R.w.F: Do you have any advice for those wanting to start writing?

BP: There’s so much information out there about how to succeed as a writer, which can be really overwhelming for new writers, because it’s impossible to do it all. So, in my opinion, there are two must-haves.

 

First, make time to write. Do it in car line, on your lunch break, before the family wakes up or after they go to sleep. Take those moments whenever they come, and just write.

 

Secondly, you grow exponentially when you study the craft. Attend workshops, read books, listen to podcasts, subscribe to the blogs of knowledgeable authors and industry professionals—whatever works for you, do it. I would also strongly advise new writers to get into a critique group or find a critique partner. It’s difficult to grow when you don’t know your problem areas, and we’re often too close to our own writing to see those difficult spots. Having someone else read your work is instrumental in learning what you need to work on; conversely, reading other people’s work opens your eyes to problem areas, different styles of writing, and new techniques that you can then apply to your own writing.

 

And now for a few fun questions:

 

R.w.F: What is your favorite soda?

BP: All of them. I’m literally addicted to soda in any form. There’s some kind of psychological issue there that I haven’t figured out; I just know that if I drink it at all, it doesn’t matter what parameters or limits I impose, I will soon be mainlining the stuff all the day long. So I’ve had to cut it out completely. I’m now developing an addiction to Snapple…

 

R.w.F: What is the Last song you listened to?

BP: Blue Collar Man by Styx. This is currently my five-year-old’s favorite song. I hear it a lot.

 

R.w.F: What is your favorite desktop picture?

BP: It’s one of my family. Before my mother-in-law passed away last year, we arranged for an extended family photo shoot. This one was taken of my immediate family, and it accurately captures some of the personality of each of us. Props to the photographer, Jennifer Stonebrink at Yankee-Belle.

 

R.w.F: Cool stuff. Thank you for agreeing to this interview, and the enlightening (for me) stuff.

 

BP: Thank you for having me, Robert!

 

If you want to check out those awesome books mentioned by Becca, you can find them at some of the links below:

Emotion Thesaurus

The Positive Trait Thesaurus: A Writer’s Guide to Character Attributes

The Negative Trait Thesaurus: A Writer’s Guide to Character Flaws

Show, Don’t Tell Lesson Pt I

81ImYB6fptL__SL1500_Yesterday, I posted an excerpt from R.S.Guthrie’s book Ink. The section I chose was about Showing the reader the events of the story, rather han telling them what happened. When you show the events, it serves to draw your reader further into your story. Conversely, when you tell, you pull them out. I think I learned the lesson (am probably wrong), and I’m going to use a scene from my Work In Progress Into the Realm: The Chronicles of Carter Blake, Book I to illustrate. I’ll post the section, then tomorrow, I’ll break down what I was trying to show. It’s up to you to decide whether I showed you, or if I told you. Let me know in the comments below.

 

 

 

I stole along the hallway that lead to my former cell as I had when I escaped. I still didn’t know why it had been switched from the one closer to the arena, but didn’t really care either. Cool air from an unseen opening to the outside blew gently across my face. I soon found myself at the intersection from my previous journey through here. I wondered if I should continue forward towards the source of the breeze, or to my left and into the darkness. After several moments of indecisiveness, I resorted to eenie-meenie-miney-moe. I went left, into the darkness, with some trepidation. I had no idea what was down here. I was bothered by the fact that I hadn’t heard anything since I left Weijia on the elevator, and the dark silence was kind of spooky the way it seemed to lay heavily on me. As I walked, the air seemed to grow thicker, heavier and more ominous. Oddly enough, even though there was no light in the hallway, it appeared to get gradually darker. Just ahead of me, I heard a little boy giggle suddenly. I froze, the hairs on my body all standing at attention, goose bumps running over my body. The sound stopped with no echoes. I drew the sword I had gotten from a clan Silverhame smith. I was glad to have its weight in my hand.

I resumed walking, and then I heard footsteps behind me. I whirled around, bringing the longsword up in a defensive posture. When I halted, the footsteps also stopped. I held my breath, straining my ears for any sounds, but there were none. I reluctantly began to walk again, but this time I heard nothing except my own heartbeat which had ramped up remarkably. The silence didn’t remain for long, however. Just ahead of me, I heard a baby begin to cry. I began to hurry, the fear in that young voice spurring my steps. The crying baby changed to a young girl shrieking, then a young woman screaming, then an old woman choking, then stopped. I admit, my nerves were now completely shot. I stumbled to a halt again, and simply leaned against a stone wall, trembling like I had a cold.

After I had caught my breath again, and regained my composure, I pushed against the wall, intending to go upright. Instead, I felt the hardness of the stone give way to the soft yielding of flesh. At the same time, I felt a long, wet tongue slide up the side of my face. I screamed in revulsion and disgust and thrust my sword at who, or whatever had just licked me. The only resistance my sword felt was went it impacted the far wall of the hallway. Malevolent laughter echoed through the darkness.

A sinister voice whispered near my right ear, “If you do not study…”

Then, it moved to just in front of me and thundered,

“YOU! SHALL NOT!! PAAASSSSS!!!!”

As the booming of the abrupt shout died away, I started laughing aloud.

“Really?” I said, wiping tears of mirth from my eyes. “Are you really misquoting Lord of the Rings at me?!”

There was no response. Still chuckling a bit, I resumed walking. I gradually became aware that I could faintly see the stone walls and floor of the hallway again. I walked further, and the light grew only a little brighter. I soon realized it was due to a mist that somehow hung in the air. After another five minutes of travel, it was like I was in an ethereal realm. I moved to touch the wall on my right hand so I wouldn’t get turned around, and my hand met nothing. I stumbled forward into the mist and landed on my stomach, knocking the wind from myself.

I took a couple of minutes to recover, not fully noticing the moisture that was sinking into my clothing. I finally stood, and when my clothing clung to me, swore. ‘Just what I fucking need: my clothes to be wet,’ I thought. I trudged across the sodden, muddy ground, grimacing with disgust with each step. I really hated the feel of wet deerskin against my flesh. Thunder rumbled off to my right, causing me to wonder if I had wandered outside somehow. A warm rain began to fall on me. Finding it infinitely better than the cold dampness that had already surrounded me, I paused to enjoy it. I tilted my head back to better enjoy the feel of the rain. I soon caught whiff of a familiar, coppery scent. I opened my eyes. Sure enough, blood was falling from the sky like rain. I heaved a sigh and trudged onwards. Ten feet later, I tripped over a stone block. I rolled onto my back, clutching my injured shin and swearing like a sailor.

Something made me roll rapidly to my right. The world imploded around me. I smelled ozone an instant before a shockwave sent me rolling further away. When the world ceased spinning, I sat up and opened my eyes. The mist cleared enough for me to see a blackened crater where I had been laying just moments before. ‘Okay, somebody doesn’t want me to continue. I must be going the right way,’ I thought. Curiosity had me check out the stone I tripped over earlier. I picked up my dropped sword as I approached it.

The stone looked to be ordinary granite. It was largely white with striations of grey and black. It was also polished to a high sheen. From the angle I approached it from, I couldn’t make anything else out. I walked around and froze, my heart in my throat. Claws had gouged out a name and two dates.

CARTER MARCUS BLAKE

10/9/20XX – 5/6/20XX

I must admit: seeing that freaked me out. For one, I never use my middle name. I can’t stand it. For another, I had an inkling that the second date was today. I heard a sliding step as if someone was attempting to sneak up on me. I whirled, sword up in a ready defensive position. There was no one there. I cautiously made my way passed the stone with my name on it and began to move faster, something telling me that time was running out.

A large dark shape plummeted to the ground in front of me. I leaped backward instinctively. Lightning flashed rapidly, illuminating the newcomer in staccato bursts. It was one of the largest demons I had ever seen. It was crouched in front of me, black wings furled over its massive muscled back. It had four long, thick arms, the lower two of which were planted on the ground and two hugely muscled legs, coiled and ready to launch it into action. It had long and sharp looking horns sticking out of its skull-like head. An elongated, heavy tail swished back and forth like a cat’s. It watched me with glowing silvery orange eyes, licking its face occasionally. Its wings unfurled and began to lazily flap, stirring up a surprisingly pleasant breeze. The wings were black near the demon’s shoulders and gradually faded to red near the primary feathers. There was a stripe of yellow at delineating the covert feathers. Keeping its eyes on me, the demon slowly raised one of its arms from the ground, carefully moved it forward, and then lowered it. This movement was followed promptly by a matching step forward by its opposite leg. ‘This thing is stalking me,’ I thought with wonder.

Trying to show that I wouldn’t be intimidated, I twirled my sword before me, then snapped it down to my right. Outwardly, I was bold, ready to fight. Inwardly, I was nervous and scared as hell. The demon lowered its body, ready to pounce. I dropped my right foot behind me, turning to that I would present a smaller target and so that I could put more power behind my first swing. I brought my sword up into my left hand and gripped it lightly, yet firmly. The demon took another slow step forward, this time moving the opposite arm and leg from last time.

The demon launched into its attack. My swinging sword was tore from my grasp. Sword flew in one direction, I in another. I rolled a few feet, and lunged upright. The demon was on me in an instant, ripping and clawing at my flesh. I frantically threw up my forearms and knees to block its unrelenting assault. After four frantic minutes, I saw an opening and took ruthless advantage. It swung both of its right arms at my head. I ducked under the upper fist, blocked the lower one with my forearms and launched my right knee up into its jaw, staggering the monster. It roared in frustration and swung both its left arms. I landed in a crouch. When both left fists whistled through the air over my head, I slammed my left elbow into its right knee. The demon’s knee buckled as it bellowed in pain. It crashed to the ground.  I rose to my feet and raced for my sword.

I reached it, and took it gladly into my hands once more. I turned to the demon, ready to resume the battle on more equal terms. Moving faster that I thought possible, the demon charged. When it reached me, I found myself lifted in the air. The demon had each of my limbs in one of its colossal hands. It roared in my face and then flung me. I flew on a short, hard trajectory and crashed into a wall. My skull bounced against it, sending sparkles of light shooting across my sight. The impact knocked the wind from me and caused my vision to go blurry. My ears rang, and I felt nauseous. I wasn’t sure of where I was, or what had happened to me. I slowly pushed myself upright and saw two four-armed demons charging at me. I tried to get to my feet, but couldn’t seem to get my limbs to work together. The demon yanked me up and slammed me against the wall again. It began to batter me with its free fists. My body twitched and swung from the thud of its fists. It was interesting: I was able to feel the impacts, but I felt no pain.

The demon flung me away from it again. My flight was once more short, and remarkably, pleasant. The landing, a lot less so. Fortunately, the jarring landing served to clear the cobwebs from my mind. I rolled to my feet just as the demon landed hard where I had just been lying. Instinct had me rocketing my fist up to explode against its jaw as I shoved my feet against the ground to provide extra force. The demon’s head snapped back, and it crashed to the ground. Pain raced up from my damaged hand, grabbed a dance partner in my shoulder and did the tango in my skull to the tune of a throbbing headache. I tasted copper in my mouth and spat to one side. Blood and a tooth hit the ground.

“You bastard,” I said.

I looked at the demon which was just getting to its hands and knees. I ran up and punted the demon in its head as if I were trying to kick the winning fifty yard field goal at the Super Bowl with the entire New England Patriots defensive line attempting to stop me. The arch of my foot caught it on its jaw. My knee caught the side of its horn. The demon collapsed, semi-conscious. I collapsed, clutching my knee. I rolled around for a couple of minutes until the demon let out a gasping snore, reminding me of its presence. I got up, hobbled over to where I last saw my sword and picked it up, swearing under my breath. I balanced on my non-bruised leg and kicked the other one out a few times, trying to work the pain out. I gingerly set my foot back down and tested my weight on it. When it held up, I turned and limped back to where the demon was just beginning to stir.

‘Hey, I’m Dr. Gregory House,’ I thought randomly. The demon had pushed itself back up to it hands and knees once more. I poised near its shoulders, my sword held tightly in my hands. I held it above its neck and paused, waiting for it to come further up. As it did, I brought the sharp blade down with all my might. A scream of fury issued from my lungs as the longsword impacted, then sliced though, the demons thick neck. Crimson blood shot up from the stump like a geyser. It slashed against me, hot and delicious. I stood over the demon corpse, savoring my victory. My chest heaved as I thrust my bloody sword in the air and bellowed my triumph to the sky.

Tomorrow, I’ll break it down for you.

Ink by R.S.Guthrie & Something I Learned From It

Not too long ago, R.S.Guthrie released a new book called Ink. It’s about the craft of writing, and how to get better at it. I wrote a review about it here. Look for “R.w.Foster”.
I got in touch with Rob the other day and requested to post an excerpt from it and, using my writing, demonstrate what I learned from it. Why am I wanting to do this, you ask? A couple of reasons. One, I like Rob Guthrie and want to promote his stuff. I promote what I like. 2) I want to help others become better writers, as I struggle with the same (it’s in the blog tagline). The more writing we have in the world, the better the world is, in my opinion. But, enough of me blathering. You want the excerpt. It follows the jump.

81ImYB6fptL__SL1500_

Show, Don’t Tell

This is THE RULE. All the other rules are subservient to this one. The other rules are tools to help your writing show the reader. Here’s an exercise: Remember “Show and Tell” in grammar school? You know, once a week or once a month each student would bring in something about which they could show AND tell. Now I want you to imagine this simple scene. Little Susie Frockmaker has just walked into a hushed classroom of twenty-something first-graders. She’s wearing her cutest pink dress; her mother has done her blonde hair all especially curly before she went to school; she is smiling like the goat that ate the tractor tire. And she’s carrying, in a meshed-metal cage, a huge white rabbit. Its alive, you Horror writers. Twitching, munching on some carrots. The bottom of the cage has cardboard and there’s fresh grass Susie’s dad put in there just for such an occasion. Little Susie Frockmaker takes the cage and, still smiling wide (  you didn’t know that goats that finish off tires are irrepressibly happy creatures), places the caged, gorgeous rabbit on a small table at the front of the room. There is an audible, “ooooh” as she does so, little Susie Frockmaker, nor the teacher, nor any other student having said a single word. Has Susie shown anything yet? Oh, I know the point of the “Show” part for little persons is when the rabbit is let out of the cage and they get to hold him and feel the soft tufts of fur and worry about him biting them and all manner of enjoyment, but my question still stands: Has Susie shown anything yet? I say she has, without one single word. Remember the smile and the fresh-laid grass and the cage itself? I’ll give you three choices as to what the other young children might be thinking they’ve already seen, without being told a thing:
1.      It’s rabbit stew for lunch.
2.      Little Susie Frockmaker just gave birth to a clean, live rabbit in the hallway just before class.
3.      On the way to school, the rabbits that rule the world played a cruel trick on one of their own and caged him, forcing him to attend Show and Tell at Mockery Elementary School.
4.      Susie Frockmaker has a new pet rabbit.
Now I’ll admit, I’ve grown up in some pretty small places like Iowa or Wyoming where there probably was some kid in the back happy as frog excrement that they were having rabbit for lunch (and in fact did end up having rabbit for dinner. Again.). But with that smile, beaming of pride, her nicest dress, the curls her mother did special for this day? Yeah, it’s corny (no Iowa pun intended), but it’s also true, isn’t it? Now that doesn’t mean Tell is off the books altogether. She can tell us his name. But that brat-shit Tommy Dipstick could blurt out, “RASCAL. You got him for your birthday.” (Because Tommy, of course, was an unwanted guest at the farm when Susie received her present—just as Tommy’s an unwanted guest most everywhere he shows up.)  You could argue, but I’d call Tommy’s outburst showing. In fact, I didn’t even have to Tell you that Tommy was there because you likely already figured out something to that effect—and the story can later confirm or deny what guess you made, but either way, you didn’t have to be told anything. You see, that’s how you have to start thinking. In what ways can I deliver information to the reader through interesting twists in the story? Imagine how loudly little Susie Frockmaker is going to BAWL in horror when she realizes the whole surprise she’s been practically wetting herself over has been ruined by that little Dipstick. That is the simplest example of showing and not telling I could come up with. Apologies all around for making it more of a children’s tale, but I tried to give it legs just a small bit. Not very Chekhovian.

From Ink by R.S.Guthrie, pub March, 2013.

Pretty interesting, eh? Tomorrow, I’ll show you how I implemented this lesson in my own work.

Know Me Better III

It’s that time again.

From I Am A Reader, Not A Writer:

Each week I will pick 5 questions to answers.

I invite you to share your answers to these questions as well. You can share them as a comment on this post or share them on your own blog and link up to this post.

This post goes up sometime during the weekend. I “TRY” to get it up by Saturday morning but life happens all to often so there are no guarantees!

Let’s get to this week’s questions, eh?

What story does your family always tell about you?

What kind of music do you like?

Would you rather have money or fame?

Do you celebrate Easter? If so what is one of your traditions?

Best April Fools Day Joke you have done or someone has done to you?

What story does your family always tell about you?

So many. Usually about how “bad” I was. One is how I’d disappear on my mom in the clothing store and scare the “daylights” out of her. Hey, those weren’t racks of clothes on hangers! They were doorways into other worlds filled with all sorts of strange beings, or they were doorways to the lands of my favorite cartoons.

What kind of music do you like?

I have an eclectic taste in music. I like stuff from Beethoven to Eminem, From Abba to ZZ Top. This is part of the playlist I listen to on Spotify as I write. There are over 700 tracks on the whole thing. 😀 Feel free to follow it. You can also see it to your right. —->

Would you rather have money or fame?

Fame. When you’re famous, you can easily get money. Not so much the other way around.

Do you celebrate Easter? If so what is one of your traditions?

I do not celebrate Easter.

Best April Fools Day Joke you have done or someone has done to you?

Best April Fool’s prank was on my friend Mikey’s sister and mom. With the aid of a drama club make up artist, we staged a scene in his house so it seemed like he’d killed me in a fit of rage, and needed his family to help him to hide my body. Farts are funny. Causing someone to fart in terror is even funnier.

Now it’s your turn!
Share an answer to one or more of these questions as a comment or post your answers on your blog and link up here! If you are posting on your blog you can grab the linky to include with your post if you would like to do so.

Book Fever

Vonnie’s Reading Corner

Deco My Heart

Writing Christian Novels

Closkot

Smoking Hot Books

A Nanny’s Literary Musings

By Candlelight

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Know Me Better II

So, here we go again. Another 5 questions from I Am A Reader, Not A Writer. This week’s questions are:


What is the kindest thing anyone has done for you?
What is most memorable about your high school years?
Have you ever gotten up early for a “black Friday sale”?
Were you named after anyone?
Would you bungee jump, skydive or something similar?

Let’s get to them, eh?

What is the kindest thing anyone has done for you?

The kindest thing anyone has ever done for me? Wow. There have been a few, so, I’ll go with the most recent. Earlier in the month, I traveled to Tampa, Florida. A friend’s friend (an I think love interest) allowed me to crash at his place while I was there to hang out with my friends. If he reads this, Thanks again, Anthony.

What is most memorable about your high school years?

There were a few, but I’ll go with my most favorite memory: Graduation. I absolutely hated high school. You know, I think school is the only place where it is a bad thing to be intelligent.

Have you ever gotten up early for a “black Friday sale”?

Heh. No. I don’t like shopping. I’m certainly not gonna get up early to take part in a holiday dedicated to it.

Were you named after anyone?

Technically, I was named after everyone born before me. Think on that for a few seconds. Okay, non-smartass answer: My mom named me for two of her best friends.

Would you bungee jump, skydive or something similar?

You’re asking a guy with acrophobia if he’d skydive, or bungee jump. Are you out of your fecking mind?! Wait, what do you mean, I promised? Oh. Right. Yeah, I promised someone important to me that I would skydive with her.

*******

I invite you to share your answers to these questions as well. You can share them as a comment on this post or share them on your own blog and link up to this post. If you are posting on your blog you can grab the linky to include with your post if you would like to do so.

Ya Between The Lines
CMash Reads
Book Fever
Bookshelf
Spiced Latte Reads
My Head Is Full of Books
For the Love of Film & Novels
Diantha
Smoking Hot Books
Princess Paperback
Vonnie’s Reading Corner
Happy Little Worker
Everything Ella
Christian Novels
Paranormal Sisters
Shelfspace Needed
Hilda
Romance With A Book
Closkot
Gjam

Update: Looks like a lot of my fellow authors are also afraid of heights. I wonder if they’re connected…

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Know Me Better 1

I found this a on blog called, I Am A Reader, Not A Writer. I follow it via e-mail. Each week, five questions are posted for bloggers to answer. This week’s questions are:

What was the last thing that made you cry?
What chore do you absolutely hate doing?
What is your favorite form of exercise?
What is your current desktop picture?
You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

What was the last thing that made you cry?

A couple of scenes in Safe Haven by Nicholas Sparks. They were familiar to me. Look for my review later in the week. I’m gonna re-read it.

What chore do you absolutely hate doing?

Almost all of them. I’m inherently lazy. But the one that is currently tops for me is filling out job applications.

What is your favorite form of exercise?

Sex. What? It counts. You burn calories. Okay, fine: Jumping rope. Yes, jumping rope. Feck off.

What is your current desktop picture?

It is a collage of characters from 80’s cartoons.

You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

Even though I just got back Thursday night, I’d go to Tampa, Florida. This time, I’m not sure I’d return though…

I invite you to share your answers to these questions as well. You can share them as a comment on this post or share them on your own blog and link up to this post.

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Check these out, too while you’re at it.

danielleheartsbooks

writingchristiannovels.blogspot.com

whateveryoucanstillbetray.blogspot.com

smoking-hot-books

bookfever11

wall-to-wall-books

www.happylittleworker.com

http://www.diantha-jones.com

shelfspaceneeded

yabetweenthelines

Robilar’s Data Sheet

Name: Robilar, alias “Robert Worthington”
Age: appears 32, is actually much older
Birthday: declares it to be August 16. Unknown, as he’s not from our world.
Physical Description: 5’11”, 200 lbs, muscular, sable hair, coffee-colored eyes, a thin, white scar runs from just beneath his hair, down over his right eye to his cheek bone
Personality Description: easy-going & fun loving outside of battle, in battle the fucker is batshit insane (like Kenpachi Zaraki from Bleach)
Hometown: Baltimore, Md. (declared), Rivorei City, The Realm
Type of Neighborhood/Description of Home: a small 2 story number on Dover St.
Father’s Name: Lance Worthington III (not real)
Father’s Background and Occupation: working class/ BCFD (deceased)
Mother’s Name: Valerie Worthington (not real)
Mother’s Background and Occupation: middle class/ BPD (deceased)
Friends: Carter Blake, Jennifer Steel, Danijela Amarovic, Drake Lunasta
Enemies: Lilith, Lucas Rumpff, Death, himself
Influential Person or Event: Jennifer wishing she had never met him. This made him change the way he approached events, especially where she is concerned.
Favorite Foods: pepperoni pineapple pizza with either beer (relaxing), or Dr. Pepper (working)
Hobbies: Sleeping, painting, writing, reading tvtropes.org
Dress Style: Black jeans and t-shirt
Religion: None. He knows gods are real (his friend polices them), he merely chooses not to worship any.
Attitude Toward Religion: Ignores it.
Leader or Follower: Both. He leads the less experienced, tends to follow the Walker of Worlds
Ambitions: To keep his world safe, to keep Jennifer Steel safe, and to ensure his line continues
Strongest Positive Personality Trait: Loyal
Strongest Negative Personality Trait: Some say he’s overly playful
Temperament: Usually laid back. When driven to battle, if personal, he’s a blood knight.
Consideration for Others: Yes, especially those he cares about.
How Other People See Him/Her: Implacable Man, great friend, kind of goofy, loyal
Opinion of Self: Determinator

Yesterday’s Post

This is something I wrote on the 27th. It was how I felt then. With the exception of feeling like I’m not going to continue (which *has* dropped to 70-30 against), I don’t feel the same as I did then. I still hate what I did, but I’m not actively beating myself up over it. She forgave me (mind-boggling, I know, but that’s how she rolls).
As for not continuing, I’ve stopped because my drive to write is gone. With the exception of these two posts, and a writing excercise, I’ve not written in about 3 weeks. I have no desire to, and I can’t “see” anything. I visualize something, and write what I “see”. No visuals, no writing. And you know what? I’m okay with that.
So, relax: I’m not beating myself up, and I’m not punishing myself. The urge is gone. Let’s move on?

One more thing: I find it disturbing that everything I’ve heard about that event has largely been about my writing. That’s disappointing.

A Little About Sweet Mother

Herself
Herself
There is an epic comedian named Rebecca Donohue. She’s feckin’ hilarious, and a good friend. I discovered her through her blog Sweet Mother. When I found out she had some videos of her stand up, well, I had to hunt them up. I’m including links to some of my favorites. I’ll also why I like them. They will take you to youtube.

Let’s get to them:

From “Solo Night”. “I married your father for the green card. It’s time you know.” When ever I’m feeling like crap, that line right there makes it all seem like it’s not as bad as I thought. The way she delivers it is exquisite.

From a show in NYC. “I would get an STD in the woods.” That one had me laughing my ass off. It gets me going every time. I actually had to stop writing this post for 20 minutes so I could laugh. My jaw aches, and my ribs hurt, I was laughing so hard.

This one isn’t a video, but I think you’ll like it anyway, it’s where you can buy her CD. Holy crap, a CD? How do I even know what that is? Oh, yeah. #oldasfeck

Hailing a water taxi
Hailing a water taxi
Rebecca is an awesome lady, funny as hell, and a great friend. Go check her out. You can connect with her on Twitter, her blog and on youtube.

I hope to get her over her for an interview soon. Maybe she’ll bring more of her clips. I’ll keep you updated.

Inspiring Blogger Award

This is interesting: I was just nominated for my first blogging award. The nom came from the lovely Sooz over at her blog, dreamshadow59.wordpress.com. According to her, I have to name 7 interesting things about myself. I have a small problem with that: I don’t think I’m that interesting. Others do. So, I’m gonna cheat a bit (probably won’t win, but eh). I’m gonna tell some things about me that aren’t general knowledge.

1) I’m an atheist. I really can’t stand religion, nor do I understand the need people have to hope that there is something out there.

2) I’m a giver. If I like you, I’m going to give you all that I can, be it time, caring, a shoulder to cry on, ect.

3) I’m a pimp. No, not the illegal kind. I mean, if I like someone’s stuff, I will talk it up everywhere. Twitter, Facebook, Linkdin, WordPress, ect. I want everyone to see this epic stuff.

4) I’m a midget. Seriously. To leave my third floor apartment, I base jump down each stair. It’s exhausting I tell you. What? You know I’m bullshitten? Oh, alright. I’m 6′. (shrugs) I thought it was funny.

5) I’m a word thief. I kid you not. There is a fellow blogger (I’ll mention her later) who doesn’t like to use the F-bomb on her blog. She came up with “Feck” to take its fecken place. I liked it. Boom Mine. One of my friend’s doesn’t like to have “-ing” at the end of her words. Instead, the end with “-en”. I’m sure you’ve seen that I swiped that fecken thing too. 😀

6) I like fecken with people. Are you a homophobe? Come, gimme them sweet cheeks, boyo. Are you deeply religious? Luke, I am your god. Are you strongly atheistic? You will be much happier when you accept Jesus in your heart. But, I only do that if I like you in general.

7) I seek to help others, but I don’t know how to accept it for myself.

And now for the part where I’m supposed to nominate 7 other bloggers that I think deserve it.

Sweet Mother She’s a blast, and is willing to share some of her inner struggles. Also, the originator of the almighty “Feck.”

Sooz She’s epic. I love reading her blog. Some of her stories are pretty hot. 😉

R.S.Guthrie A friend of mine with several published books. He’s a good man who is willing to give me a hand with my novel. His books are really good. Go check them out on his blog.

Kevin Rau is another friend of mine who has published several books. He, too is willing to help me out with my novel. I really like Kevin’s H.E.R.O novels. Go get them on his blog. The first in his series is free.

Vy is as big a fan of Sweet Mother’s “Feck” as I am. She has a great blog, too.

Fab is one of my best friends. She is going through a lot, and is pretty tough. She’s new to the blogosphere, so, why not go check her out?

Miss Snarky Pants. She is funny as feck. She’s fond of snark, so she’s a woman after my own heart.

There. All done. Good luck to all I have nominated.