Category Archives: writing

Some Days I Suck as a Writer

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I reread what I’ve written and the fear that I suck overwhelms me. I think it’s natural. Sometimes, I just think maybe I should throw the towel in and quite while I’m ahead. Other days, I feel like I have stories that people want to read but my mechanics are atrocious and I should just stop already.

I’m not sure if all writers are plagued with doubt. I think so. But I don’t know for sure. There might be a writer out there that thinks all their words are gold and they shit roses. I dunno. Most days, I feel okay about my writing. Most days, I feel like even though my mechanics suck, I have enough talent to at least tell a decent tale. But every once in a while, I get a day that makes me want to cry, scream and nash my teeth. Because on those days, I just KNOW I suck as a writer.

But I seem to be a hard headed bitch. I plow through ANYWAY. I used to have periodic bouts of uncertainty in my before life as well. It diminished over time. But it still caught me. I mean, throwing up before every opening statement after a decade and a half was a pretty sure sign of some anxiety, no? I don’t have opening statements anymore. So my insecurity comes out in other ways. It comes out in me reading what I wrote and wanting to delete the whole frickin’ mess. But I don’t.

I got into a car accident when I was 16. I was pissed, scared and hyped. When it came time to go to sleep, I couldn’t sleep. The accident kept playing over and over in my mind. I went to my dad. He told me to stop thinking about it. Everyone walked away unscathed from the accident so no permanent damage had been done. Well, except to the cars but they could be fixed. But then he gave me a bit of advice that I use in lots of areas in my life. He told me to go to sleep and that everything looked better after a night of rest. That morning brought new perspective. So I shut down my mind and went to sleep. And when I woke up the next day, I did feel better. Not that it undid the accident, but that the accident wasn’t looming so large in my mind. I was able to get a handle on things. And he was right, not that everything looked rosy, but it didn’t look as bleak as it did the night before.

So when I am the most sure I suck as a writer, I shut down Word and putter around until I can get to sleep. Cause I know when I wake up, even if my writing stills sucks, I can find a new perspective and it wouldn’t look so bleak. Sleeping on it doesn’t make me any less of a sucky writer. What is does is allow me to make that suckiness not loom so large in my mind. I get a handle on it. Mostly. Well, until the next time I’m sure I’m a sucky writer.

Snippet- Open Road

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Here’s a little snippet from Open Road to be released next month in the Hot Rods/Hot Bods anthology from Jupiter Gardens Press. Motorcycles, Motorcycle Riders and Menage. Oh my. And now for the disclaimer. The book hasn’t finished it copy edits or final approval. So some of the words might still be changed. Until it comes out in publication, nothing is set in stone. Words can change, things can get shifted around. Here ends the disclaimer. Enjoy.

She kept walking. Anytime someone got too close, she used her zapper. A few times she had to duck and weave. As she did, she brushed up against Deke and Zack’s back. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, she would have continued to rub up against them. As it was, the situation made it impossible to have more than brief touches.

While Deke and Nathan seemed to be able to push and shove bodies out of their way, she was leaving dropped bodies in her wake.

Here is the back blurb for Open Road.

Zoe Akio is a professional dirt bike racer who decides to ride her motorcycle across the country and think about a future post motocross racing. Her manager hires two bodyguards, Deke and Nathan, to travel with her. The three weeks with the three of them in close quarters changes all of their lives as a new, unexpected road opens up.

Plagiarism

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So there was a big brouhaha this past weekend when Lorelei James found out that @AlisonGilmore had ripped off her entire book and put it up as her fanfic and then to a blog. AlisonGilmore claimed she was writing the book chapter by chapter. She wasn’t. She was and is a thief of the highest order. She ripped off someone else’s work and claimed it as her own. There was a huge internet smack down. HUGE. Like by several people all getting into the act and it brought her blog pages down and she ended up shutting off her twitter account. She now has a new twitter account and has made it private. Only the internet isn’t “private.” Not at all. The internet is very public and is forever.

Limecello posted a blog about the internet takedown.  As did Rilzy on her blog. They both have several pictures of the images capturing the twitter logs and the blog and the subsequent takedown. They have a, forever on the internet for all time and for anyone to see and read,  blog entry about the blatant plagiarism AlisonGilmore engaged in when she ripped off Lorelei’s book. The book was ALL JACKED UP.

Plagiarist aren’t new. They are the necessary evil when you are an award winning author. Only the internet makes it so much easier to find them and ferret them out. Like ridiculously easy. Almost as easy as it makes for someone to do the ripping off. So the internet is both a sword and a shield. It cuts and protects all at the same time.

What it can’t do is make stupid people smarter. Or people who can’t write, write. And that’s what it boils down to. Plagiarist are inherently lazy, stupid and weak. No talent is involved when you steal someone’s ideas and storylines. Word for frickin’ word.

AlisonGilmore sent a tweet that said in effect- writing romance, erotic romance and erotica is for talentless dweebs. I won’t go into why writing GOOD smex is hard- almost as hard as writing comedy. But what I will go into is my response to AlisonGilmore’s talentless dweeb comments. My tweet is below. I bolded what I wrote in response to her tweet. What I wrote is true. And it was a kick-ass response to her assertions.

 

D.R. Slaten ‏@DRSlaten 14 Jun

Plagiarism is for people who can’t think. @laurahunsaker @megantgrimm @loreleijames smut is for people who can’t write.

Editing 101

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I normally don’t write a whole lot about my writing process. While I think writing is endlessly fascinating, I don’t think non-writers think that at all. Not a lot of action happens when I write, well other than typing my ideas into the computer. lol So I try to make this blog about more interesting things. Things that interest me. But every once in a while, I like to share what I’m writing as well as how  I write. Today is a process piece. It’s all about editing.

This is not an advance class on editing. It is my technique for editing. I do one big edit and then I am done. I use a combo of Holly Lisle and Rachel Aaron‘s technique. Do what works for you. Like both of them, however, I do believe there is such a thing as over editing and diminishing returns on additional edits.

I print out my manuscript. That’s right. I don’t do a computer edit, not at first. The print out lets me switch from writer to editor mode in my brain. I become the teacher with a red pen. Then, I let it sit for at least 24 hours. Other people let it sit for weeks, months, etc. I can’t do that. I have a driving need to finish what I start. And having a polished, edited manuscript is the end of writing that book. For me at least.

1. Read the entire document through. Either underline or put check marks by misspelled words. Every time you see a time- day, hour, month, etc.,  reference write it down in a separate notebook making a timeline. On another sheet, write down plot holes, things that didn’t explained, characters introduced but not developed, etc. Big huge glaring things. Add a note of the page number.

2. Now read through again. Start scene analysis. Do this scene by scene. I write primarily romances. So I ask the question: Does this scene further the romance? Does it develop either character? Does the scene further the conflict by my heroine/hero? If not, mark it out. Fix timelime issues. You will be able to see them from the timeline you made. Fill in plot holes, explain the unexplained, remove undeveloped characters or add stuff to develop them. Remove extraneous words. Is the scene a mini-story? Could better words be used? Your pages on paper should look like it is bleeding red. lol

3. Start on page one and start making your corrections into the computer version of your document. If you found some stuff as you correct, if it is little things… fix as you go. If not, write it down. Make all your corrections from the earlier notes. Fix time and place issues.

4. Do another read through. Write down any errors you see and add it to your list. When you are done, go back and fix all the things wrong on your list by page. Do not start at the beginning again. Just fix your list mistake by mistake.

5. Do a final spellcheck. I usually do a concurrent grammar check as well. But this is fiction so there are a lot of exceptions. Many of you will and can skip adding in the grammar checker.

6. Now, let it sit for 24 hours. Either load your document onto a kindle or make a pdf file. Read it through from beginning to end like a reader. Use your reader brain. Does it work? Do your words flow? Is it a good story? Make logical sense?

7. Fix any errors caught on the read through like a reader reads. lol Do a final spellcheck.

8. Put the frickin thing away as you send it out into the big, wide world. 🙂

Viola, you are finished. And that is how I edit.

It used to take me two weeks to edit a manuscript of 20-30K words because I didn’t plot out my stories. Then I started using a vague basic outline and my editing time diminished.  Now, I write using a detailed outline and my editing time is cut almost by half to two-thirds. Why? Because I normally don’t have huge plot gaps anymore, or timeline issues- they got resolved in my outline already. Sometimes my characters do something I didn’t outline, so I just put it into my outline, work out further problems later in my outline that occur as a result and viola, back to using my outline for my story. I just started doing this for my last manuscript. The difference is AMAZING.

An outline also helps in writing a synopsis. I already have the bones to the synopsis in the outline. Easy peasy.  I will never write without a detailed outline again. Not only does it help with my writing, it is invaluable at the end when I am editing. Cuts my work time in half.

Start another manuscript while your finished manuscript is marinating. Then you can either edit straight through or write half the time/edit half the time. The choice is yours.

Mawr Cool Places on the Interwebz

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Okay. I like the internet. It has made my life infinitely easier. Not better. Just easier. So here are some more places for you to visit when you’re on your computer and need to waste a little time or just want to find some cool crap.

Ill Will Press has some of the funniest videos that are so wrong on so many levels, you can’t help but enjoy it. Some of them will make you just laugh out loud, for realz. 🙂

Touch the Sky has tree camping. That’s right, you read it here… TREE CAMPING. I didn’t even know this existed. Now I can’t wait to do it. I found them through a magazine article. Then I looked it up and there are several outfits that do this. How cool is that?!?! I bet there’s even one in your area.

Rusty Moore is a fitness trainer in Seattle. He helps a lot of people look fit but not like steriod pumped people. He has a program specifically for women, who don’t want to look like a mini Arnold Schwarzenegger. Its his Visual Impact for Women. Click the link, listen to his video and decide if the price is right. I think it is.

Now for a writer page or two. 🙂 These are the pages I use when I am editing. Or in other words, ripping apart my manuscript so that I can put it all back together again better than before. Many people use Holly Lisle’s One Pass Manuscript Revision. I also like Rachel Aaron’s Editing for People who hate Editing. I use a combo of both. I took what I liked from each of them and used them together. And in life, as in most things like writing, that’s the way it should be. Take what you need, leave the rest.

June Blog Chain

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Doing AW‘s June Blog Chain again. Might the last for a bit. I got a lot on my plate right now.

This month’s prompt:
Bugs

Yep. Bugs. Simple and easy. Prose, poetry, play. Fiction, nonfiction. It’s all good, all bugs.

Instructions:
Simply post your blog’s URL in this thread to join. I’ll let you know in this thread when it’s your turn. Once your turn comes up, you have two days to complete a blog post using the prompt. When you are finished, please add a link to your post on the thread.

Each post should be less than 1000 words if possible.

Bugs

“Don’t let them escape,” she cried.

“I’m tryin’ not to,” he answered.

“Oh my god. Get them.” She was horrified.

Silas wasn’t a very forgiving overseer. Not even a drop of compassion flowed through his veins. She and Orrin would be written up and their pay docked. The last thing she could afford was to have her pay docked.

“Hurry and get ‘em back into their containment units, Chessie,” Orrin’s tone was forceful while his voice was low. “Mebbe they won’t notice. Or mebbe we can tell ‘um they died in the unit.”

“That won’t work Orrin. They added the unit weight monitors yesterday. The units just got calibrated,” her voice held the resignation she felt. “It’s useless. I’ll file the report.”

“Shit.”

It wasn’t a minute after she hit send on the report, the communicator on the console started beeping. She didn’t want to hit the green button, but she did.

“Ms. de Marco?” asked Silas.

“Yes, this is she,” she answered, albeit reluctantly.

“I see from the report, your team lost a little under a gross of cockroaches,” he said. His voice held neither disapproval or approval.

“Yes sir. That’s correct,” she said. “It was my fault, sir. Mr. Abernathy bears no fault.”

“I noted that on the report as well,” he stated.

“It’s the truth,” she said emphatically. “Although Orrin helped me when I tried to get them back. They ran, sir. We couldn’t catch them.”

“The loss of the gross will cost the company just under $10,000 dollars, Ms. de Marco. How do you propose to rectify this situation?” Silas asked her.

“Well, I’ve given it some thought, sir. I would be willing to be docked half pay and work over time for the remaining portion,” she suggested.

“Acceptable,” Silas told her. Again, no inflection in his voice to indicate emotions running one way or another. “Computer please note the date and time of the agreement.”

“Agreement noted and entered,” a chipper female voice acknowledged.

“Will that be all sir?” she asked miserably.

“Yes. Good day,” Silas sign off. The communicator beeping one long beep to indicate the call was over.

“Crap,” she cursed.

“Doan worry, Chessie. I kin share my rations. I know you need ‘em,” Orrin offered.

“This can’t go on Orrin. We need to figure out a way to get the overflow when we open the units,” she said.

“How kin we do that if the company hasn’t?” Orrin asked.

“The company doesn’t care Orrin,” she said. “They dock the workers pay if any of those bugs get out. So they don’t have a profit loss. No profit loss equals no motive to fix the situation.”

“I guess that’s true,” Orrin agreed.

“Well we might as well eat lunch while we think about it,” she told him.

“Alright,” he agreed readily.

Orrin hit a series of buttons. Two bowls appeared with grayish extruded paste in them. He handed one to her and kept the other for himself.

“Hot sauce?” he offered her the bottle.

She took it. While the paste was nutritious, it tasted bad.

“Thanks. I can’t stand the taste plain,” she told him. “Since I started working here. Seeing how they live, I have to put something on it.”

“I just like the hot sauce,” Orrin grinned at her. “Even if the paste didn’t taste like shit, I’d put some on there.”

She didn’t say anything in response. There wasn’t really anything to say. So they finished their meal in silence. Each lost in their own worlds. She was pretty sure they were two vastly different worlds, but still, Orrin had his moments.

He wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, but he was funny and nice. He was real nice. He’d helped her out on more than one occasion.

“Do you think we’ll ever get anything else to eat?” she wondered out loud. “I read about all the food that didn’t survive and I can’t imagine what they’d taste like.”

“I dunno, Chessie. Mebbe someday, the ground will grow things again. Or they’ll find somethin’ sides us and the bugs survived,” he said. “Until then, at least we kin eat all we want. Working with the food gots some benefits.”

“Yeah, at least my kid won’t starve,” she said sadly. “He just won’t have much besides food for a while.”

“Naw, girl. I told you I’d help out. And I will,” he said good naturedly.

“I can’t let you do that Orrin. You’ve been helping me out too much,” she said. “Who knew taking care of the food was so difficult?”

“They’re just particular. They don’t want ‘em to get out in case some other folks start to breed ‘em too. Then if everybody could grow ‘em and breed ‘em, the company’s profits would go down,” he said in a surprising moment of insight.

“Yeah. That makes sense,” she said. “It was just easier when I work part time in the office before Eric died, you know?”

“Yeah. I do,” he patted her shoulder. “Welp, it’s time to water the little buggers. Got to keep ‘em plump so they weigh more for sale.”

“Better than feeding them,” she shivered. She hated feeding them. Hated dealing with the corpses. The cyclical nature of the how they bugs ate human corpses, getting fat and then the bugs were ground into paste to feed living humans. Well, it just kind of freaked her out. If she’d never worked in this department, she wouldn’t have it in her face. She could have pretended. But when you’re the one feeding the damn things, it was real hard to pretend.

“Now ain’t that the truth.”

“You’re right. Let’s get back to work,” she sighed. “But one of these days, I am going to figure out how to get them from one unit to another without losing any of them.”

“That’d be a good thing, Chessie. Help us both out,” Orrin grinned at her.

Micro-farming cockroaches was essential now they were the only source of protein left on Earth. Well other than humans. But no one wanted to go there. At least not yet.

Participants and posts:
orion_mk3 – http://nonexistentbooks.wordpress.com (link to post)
Diem_Allen – http://mindovermistakes.blogspot.com (link to post)
Ralph Pines – http://ralfast.wordpress.com (link to post)
articshark – http://www.drslaten.com/blog (link to post) <————————–me
Lady Cat – http://randomwriterlythoughts.blogspot.ca (link to post)
U2Girl – http://ancatdubh.org (link to post)
MsLaylaCakes – http://www.taraquan.com/ (link to post)
SuzanneSeese – http://www.viewofsue.blogspot.com/ (link to post)
robynmackenzie – http://iwanttobeawesomewhenigrowup.com/ (link to post)
Sunwords – http://susannedoering.wordpress.com/ (link to post)
Angyl78 – http://jelyzabeth.wordpress.com/ (link to post)
susanielson – http://somesemblancethereof.blogspot.com/ (link to post)
HistorySleuth – http://historysleuth.blogspot.com (link to post)
SRHowen – http://srhowen1.blogspot.com/ (link to post)
Lyra Jean – http://beyondtourism.wordpress.com/ (link to post)
xcomplex – http://arielemerald.blogspot.com/ (link to post)
milkweed – http://www.thistlequill.blogspot.com/ (link to post)

 

May Blog Chain

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Doing AW‘s Blog chain again this month. Loads of fun.

This month’s prompt:
Dialogue Only

Make a post that is only back-and-forth dialogue, with no description or tags. As always, it may be fiction or nonfiction, prose or poetry, or any other form you care to use. If you want an additional prompt for your dialogue, you can use Wrong Place, Right Time,” but this is strictly optional.

Instructions:
Simply post your blog’s URL in this thread to join. Each post should be less than 1000 words if possible. Read and comment on other participants’ posts if you possibly can–they’ll be doing the same for you!

Dialogue Only

“Oh my god. That feel so good.”

“Does it?”

“Yes. Yes it does. I didn’t think that I would like it so much.”

“Don’t think I’m not laughing at you. I told you would like it, if you just gave it a chance.”

“You were so right.”

“Can I mark today down in my calendar as the day hell froze over?”

“You are so not funny even if you were right. No need to be smug about it, you know.”

“I’m not being smug about it. I’m just being right. For once.”

“Laughing at me isn’t helping get you out of hot water, mister.”

“No. But it is making me feel better all the way around.”

“Oh god. That’s it. That’s the spot.”

“Right there?”

“Yes. Now a little to the left. Yeeeessss, perfect. Just right there.”

“Oh, I can feel it. It feels really tight.”

“Totally. But if you keep rubbing it, maybe that’ll change.”

“I like all those little moans you make. And every once in a while you squeak like those dog toys they have at the supermarket.”

“Are you saying that you like girls who squeak?”

“No. I’m saying that I like it when you squeak.”

“Oh. Well that’s okay then.”

“I should hope so.”

“No need to be dickish is there?”

“Other than I want to be dickish? Probably not.”

“Jeez, you can be really frustrating.”

“You think I’m the one who’s frustrating? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Didn’t I just say that?”

“Well, yeah. But I don’t see how you can think that. I mean, of the two of us, you are the more frustrating.”

“Says who? Did you take a poll at the local supermarket? You know, when you checked out the doggie squeak toys?”

“Um no. I just know. It’s my superior intellect brought on by me having a dick.”

“Oh using you and dick in a sentence is something I can so get behind.”

“Are you sure you want to taunt me when I have you in such a vulnerable position?”

“Oh yeah. Maybe I need to rethink my strategy on that.”

“Oh now, we’re going to be nice.”

“Well yeah. You just pointed out my precarious situation. I’m not a stupid girl. I know when to hold ‘em, when to fold ‘em and definitely when to shut up.”

“Perhaps you can decide to shut up now so I can finish?”

“I could. But where is the fun in that?”

“Are you trying to make me miss my stride?”

“You have a stride going on? How’d I miss that?”

“Obviously when you wouldn’t shut up and let me get on with it.”

“Okay man with the magic hands. Do your worst. Better yet, do your best. Get on with it.”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder.”

“I’m going to need headphones if you keep this up.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t concentrate.”

“You need to concentrate to finish this?”

“Only if you want me at my best.”

“I always want you. At your best. At your worst. All the time.”

“Now you decide to be sweet?”

“I’m always sweet.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. And if you do a really really good job, I’ll show you just how sweet I can be.”

“Well, that’s some incentive.”

“True.”

“Almost done. It’s not suppose to hurt. Well, not too much anyway. Let me know if I hurt you, okay?”

“I will… oh sweet baby jesus, that is fabulous.”

“If your moaning is anything to go by, yes it is.”

“You keep doing that and I’ll keep on moaning.”

“Moaning is good.”

“I thought you liked the squeaking better?”

“Squeaking is cute. Moaning is like a 5 star review.”

“Gotcha.”

“Yes you do. And I’ve got you. My hands seem to really like you.”

“Well that’s good cause my body seems to really like your hands. It’s like a mutual admiration society.”

“I admire your society.”

“Not as much as I admire yours.”

“Almost finished.”

“Really?”

“I’m not ready for you to be done.”

“I don’t have anything else left. You’ve sapped my strength with all your tightness.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“Is it my turn?”

“To do me?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, in that case. Yes it is.”

“Okay. Turn over and I’ll get some oil.”

“Don’t use too much. We don’t want a huge wet spot on the sheets.”

“I got this. This isn’t my first rodeo, you know.”

“Okay. I’m ready.”

“T minus 2. I’m almost ready as well.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Now it’s my turn to make you moan.”

“I like this taking turns business.”

“I just bet you do.”

“We should do this more often.”

“Next time, let’s try a simultaneous mutual massage session.”

“I’m game.”

“Awesome. Now shut up and let me get down to business.”

“Alright. Shutting up now.”

“Not really shutting up if you’re still talking.”

“Oh my god. That feel so good.”

Here are some of the other participants blog links. Check them out if you have the time or inclination.

Participants and posts:
orion_mk3 – http://nonexistentbooks.wordpress.com (link to post)
Ralph Pines – http://ralfast.wordpress.com/ (link to post)
articshark – http://www.drslaten.com/blog (link to post) <——————- you are here
pyrosama – http://matrix-hole.blogspot.com/ (link to post)
Sudo_One – http://sudoone.wordpress.com/ (link to post)
Nissie – http://www.rinchupeco.com/ (link to post)
Angyl78 – http://jelyzabeth.wordpress.com/ (link to post)
Lady Cat – http://randomwriterlythoughts.blogspot.ca/ (link to post)
U2Girl – http://ancatdubh.org/ (link to post)
MsLaylaCakes – http://www.taraquan.com/ (link to post)
SuzanneSeese – http://www.viewofsue.blogspot.com/ (link to post)
LanaK – http://lanaketrick.blogspot.com/ (link to post)
in_one – http://quirkythomas.blogspot.com/ (link to post)

Muse is Riding Me Hard

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Today is going to be a really short post.

My muse is riding me hard. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I don’t want to go to yoga. My story wants out like yesterday. It is times like this I really wish I had taken typing in high school. I am a modified two finger pecker. Not efficient at all. My story is mostly writing itself. But because I type so slow, I am not keeping up. Which makes my muse impatient. Making me want to ignore everything else but the story.

And it wouldn’t be so bad but right at this moment, I have two full novels running side by side in my head. Seriously running. Fast. Like crazy fast. Trying to beat each other out. To see which one I will write first. The only thing those two have in common is that they are both contemporary. After that, they diverge in many, many ways. So not only are they competing to see which one gets written, they are discordant as they compete.

I think I might be going slowly insane. Evidence of this is that I am talking about muses and writings as if they are real people or something. lol All brought on my lack of sleep along with crazy voices talking in my head. At least I am not answering them yet. Well, other than to tell them to shut up. But do they listen? No. Are they trying to help a bitch out? No. They want their story written and they want it done… YESTERDAY.

I am only human. I type like crap. I am trying. Soon. So very soon, I will have these stories finished. But I know my trials and tribulations won’t be over. There are other character voices that aren’t as loud yet but once I am done with my current WIPs, I know they will start yelling too. No rest for the weary, yeah? 😉

April Blog Chain- April Fools

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I’m participating in this month’s AW’s Blog Chain. We get a prompt and then have to write something. Don’t worry, I didn’t write anything smutty. lol But I did have fun writing the piece that follows. That being said, below are  the rules.


This month’s prompt:

April Fools

Instructions:

Simply post your blog’s URL in this thread to join. Each post should be less than 1000 words if possible. Read and comment on other participants’ posts if you possibly can–they’ll be doing the same for you!

April’s Fool

She stepped around the body that landed at her feet. He didn’t get back up. The blood pooling around him might be the answer to his immobility. Not that she really cared.

The noise hit her a second before the stench. Booze, vomit and body odor. Eau de Bubba’s bar. Dirty sock smell was all that was missing. Her face carefully blank despite her disgust at being here.

She weaved her way over to the bar. The bartender gave her a chin tip.

“Tequila,” she ordered.

The tequila was delivered without salt, without lime. This wasn’t that type of bar. She was surprised the bottle hadn’t accompanied the shot glass. Because it was that kind of bar.

She took her glass and drained it. She fought the grimace. The tequila was vile, cheap and burned like hellfire.

She waved for another. It was a double shot kinda night.

She left some money on the bar next to her glass. She turned her back, resting her elbows on the bar and scanned the room. Her eyes moved until she saw the person that had drawn her here. At least the information had been good.

He didn’t see her until she started walking toward him. He went still. His face went white. Pulling himself together, he relaxed his body. It was false. She knew it was false. But still, she gave him points for the effort.

He should be scared.

“Mel,” she greeted him as if this was a social call and she was the neighborhood greeting committee.

“Lucy,” he greeted her back. His voice was almost even. But she could hear the tremor beneath the forced calm. “What brings you to Bubba’s? This ain’t your usual haunt.”

They both knew what brought her to this pigsty.

“Alice told April that you hadn’t made it over to see her even after April gave you an extension. Asked me to come find out why,” she explained her presence when it became apparent that Mel wasn’t going to say anything else.

“Well you see. I had planned to go yesterday like I was suppose to but my old lady got sick and I had to take her to the doctor and then I had a few things to take care of today and then time got away from me and then I had to meet some people here,” Mel rambled. “I was planning on going tomorrow if you want to tell Alice.”

Somehow Mel had come to the conclusion that she was there on a fact finding mission. Had he been using the small part of his brain that was left from the shit he shoved up his nose, he would have realized that she never went on fact finding missions.

Fact finding wasn’t in her job description. Hadn’t ever been. Wouldn’t ever be.

“I’ll be sure to let her know when I see her,” was all she said.

She felt the two arrive at her back. Mel wasn’t as stupid as he looked. He had somehow signaled for back up. Shit, why couldn’t this night be getting better instead of worse.

“A simple job Alice says. Won’t take you very long she says. Be in and out quick she tells me,” she muttered under her breath, repeating Alice’s earlier words.

If Alice was the brains, Lucy was the brawn. Woman could and did run these streets. And Mel had tried to avoid Alice by using April. April was soft. Alice was not.

Mel puffed up once he caught sight of his backup. “April gave me the extension. She’d give me another one.” He obviously thought she gave a shit. Or that Alice gave a shit. Whether April gave a shit didn’t matter.

“Yeah, I know,” Lucy said noncommittally. She didn’t work for April. She worked for Alice.

“Tell Alice I’ll come around tomorrow,” he told her with a touch of bravado brought on by his hired muscle.

She started to stand. Glancing into the mirror behind Mel, she pinpointed the position of the two that were supposed to have his back. Keeping her senses open to make sure they didn’t move, she got all the way up. Her body position hid Mel from the men who were suppose to protect him.

“I’ll be sure to let Alice know what you said Mel,” she said calmly. “Alice doesn’t much like looking like a fool. Going behind her back to April, well that just wasn’t smart.”

“Alice isn’t a fool,” his response was conciliatory, his hands held up.

He thought he was safe. Fool. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Just because she didn’t usually let her targets see her coming didn’t mean that it never happened. It did. Not often. But still, it happened.

She moved fast. So fast that the two behind her didn’t have time to react. She had her blade out slicing through Mel’s throat so quickly that no one without a direct line of sight would even see his head wobble. The cut so clean, his head barely moved. Just as quickly, she replaced her blade, long knife really, back in her thigh sheath. She pivoted and walked past the two guards Mel had signaled over.

As muscle went, they were a big fail. You get what you pay for. Mel was in deep to Alice. He didn’t have a lot of cake left over to pay anyone. He had obviously gotten exactly what he paid for.

What a fucking waste. All of it.

“No, April’s the fool and now so are you,” she finally responded softly as she walked away.

In her head she counted it down as she strode to the door. “3…2…1…”

“Hey,” someone called out. She’d bet it was either dufus one or dufus two. Right on time. But really, it was already too late.

“Hey…” the closing door cut off the rest.

One down, April to go.

 

Here are the other April Chain Bloggers. Go read their posts. Read and comment. Or just read.

orion_mk3 – http://nonexistentbooks.wordpress.com (link to post) 
Ralph Pines – http://ralfast.wordpress.com (link to post)
Angyl78 – http://jelyzabeth.wordpress.com/ (link to post)
Araenvo – http://www.simonpclark.com/ (link to post)
MsLaylaCakes – http://www.taraquan.com/ (link to post)
Lady Cat – http://randomwriterlythoughts.blogspot.ca/ (link to post)
LanaK – http://lanaketrick.blogspot.com/ (link to post)
Lyra Jean – http://beyondtourism.wordpress.com/ (link to post)
Sudo_One – http://sudoone.wordpress.com/ ((link to post)
articshark – http://www.drslaten.com/blog (link to post) <——————-you are here
Ghostwriter-Mom – http://www.fictionblueprints.com/ (link to post)
AngelaGreenfield – http://www.becomingawriterblog.com/ (link to post)

Waxing vs. Lasering

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Comments Off on Waxing vs. Lasering

One of my characters has a Brazilian. Not too much of a problem right? But she is lasered bare instead of waxed bare. Which presents a slight issue. I need to be able to write about it correctly. Which means that I have to do some research. I wouldn’t have to do any research if the character was waxed bare. But because of the method she chose to have her brazilian, I do. Now normally I don’t mind research. It is one of the things I have always loved. My brain likes lots of useless facts. I like lots of useless facts. Would you believe me if I told you that trivial pursuit is one of my favorite games? It is. I suck at it but still.

Anyway back to the laser. So I am not looking forward to researching the whole lasering brazilian thing. Cause I know that waxing that area hurts. A Lot. Like bring tears to your eyes pain. But I do it anyway. Wanna know why? Cause they don’t tell you that once you wax, you can’t stop. Cause having STUBBLE in that area is uncomfortable. And not mildly uncomfortable but like shockingly uncomfortable. So much so that you will sell your first born to make it go away. Instead, I just keep getting waxed. Waxing is like eating potato chips, you can’t just have one.

So I already get my armpits lasered. I am tired of being all sweaty in the summer. Having to constantly shave my pits is not a pleasant thing. It is tedious. And must be done everyday in the summer because it is so freaking hot. So I bought a package this past winter. It is awesome really. I’m not sure why I waited so long. But lasering is not without its own pain. It feels like a thousand rubber bands are snapping at your skin. Now imagine that in your private areas. Waxing hurts as well, don’t get me wrong. But I know that pain already. I know I can handle it. I haven’t experienced the lasering of that area pain yet. But I will. Because I am a dedicated writer. I will research this particular practice so that I might write about it effectively.

See, I am a dedicated writer. If I can find out information that allows me to bring some realism to the table I will. Getting a brazilian laser is just the tip of the ice berg. I have an elevated sense of responsibility to my readers. I will endure pain for them. I’m a dedicated writer bitch. lol Cause that’s just how I roll.