All Good Things ...

It is with a sad heart that I must share that this will be my last week as a Gripper. It has been an incredible experience, and I hope to be able to come back from time to time as a guest poster. But life has quite simply gotten out of control, and so I must step down as a weekly poster. Our Saturday guest will be taking over my Friday spot starting next week. I hope that you will all welcome her, as you did me.

Now, for my last post as a regular!

My most memorable moment of insanity resulted in marriage. : )

The day I met my husband, Jan 1st 1996, I was hung over. I was also 17. My older sister had allowed me to drink some champagne for New Year's eve, provided it was diluted with juice, and I had the worst hang-over of my life. Give me straight vodka any day over that crap.

Anyways, he brought over a former friend of mine, who needed my advice. I hated her because she had betrayed me, but at the same time, I was a sucker and could never turn away someone in pain. And since she had been gang banged at a party where she was given a ruffie, and was knocked up from it, she was in pain.

So against my better judgement, I invited her, her boyfriend, and the friend of her boyfriend who had driven them to my house inside.

While we were talking, we went downstairs and started playing pool. I ended up kissing the friend who did the driving, and well, gropping him before we kissed. What can I say - I suck at pool and he didn't, so I needed the distraction.

That was completely out of character for me, and had I not been hung-over, I probably never would have been so daring. As it was, my head hurt just enough that I didn't give a shit what anyone thought. I just wanted to scoop out my eyes with a ice cream spoon, and then drown myself in liquid tylenol.

Some how, that crazy day, my husband saw something in me - normally quiet, and painfully shy me - that sparked his interest and he was able to hang in there when I retreated into my 'oh hell what did I do' shell. We started dating, and he helped me to see that having a wild side, in moderation, wasn't such a bad thing. Given that he was my first boyfriend after having had my trust abused in the worst possible way by my former boyfriend, it took a crap ton of patience for him to get to see that wild me again. For me to embrace those moments of insanity.

I still have them from time to time. Like that moment in the strip club ...

Well, that's my moment of insanity. : ) I will miss you all, and I do so hope to catch you around from time to time.

Michelle

Epic Fail

One of my former professors has this image on the door to his office. That's just his sense of humor. I used to laugh as I walked by, seeing all of the snarky cartoons that he had posted. Today, it just makes me sad - because I am getting to where I understand how the beaver must have felt. Trapped under the weight of its decisions ... knowing there is no help, and he has to get himself out or perish.

True, this isn't a real image, but the metaphor is still there. And given that I just got another "Sorry we have decided to hire someone else" phone call this morning, the topic this week is appropriate.

I wish I was the type of person where I could role with the punches, and just shrug things off. That I could accept the job wasn't meant to be, and simply keep going. I admire those people. They seem to have all their shit in gear, and know where they are going in life. Or at least, that life is only a one shot deal and we had better enjoy it while it lasts.

Unfortunatly, I suffer depression. Failure for me means a downward spiral of unending what could I have done different, where did I go wrong, why didn't I do this instead self-analysis until I want to retch. Knowing there is a pattern, you would think I could stop events from happening.

Yet, once again, I sit here feeling like an epic failure. Now don't get me wrong, I don't like pity-partys. I detest all that "oh whoe is me" crap some people pull. Instead, I am a analytical failure. I tear apart every little word I said, every little thing I did, my clothing choice, the letters of reference I provided, etc. I kick myself in the ass for not going one way in college instead of another. I write lists. I will go through a packet of post-it-notes. And by the end of it, I will have listed out every possible scenerio and have a path for the next time.

It's just that time in the middle, while I pick it all apart, that tears me up. Failure is not a good feeling, and I am just enough of a perfectionist, that I feel failure is not an option. Yet, it is!

There are two things in this life that I have a passion for: writing and teaching.

Writing has been a no go for about a year now. With student teaching, and getting everything in gear to graduate, then trying to find a job, and all that, I haven't had much creative feelings happening.

Teaching is also a no-go right now, thanks to that lovely phone call. I am subbing, and it looks like that is what I will be doing again next year too, since school districts are starting to narrow down candidates already, given there are just so many teachers looking for a job right now. In the mean time, I am going to work my ass off to get certified in other areas this summer. The more I can teach, the greater my options. I just need to get my foot in the door ...

So I am sitting here, just an hour after that last phone call, and I am reminding myself of what I do have. A family that loves me. Friends that care. I am very fortunate. I know that.

But damn, it hurts.

One of my own

Sorry I have missed the last two weeks. See, we had a fire. Luckily, it didn't get our place (although, for about an hour it was a very close possibility), but it took out the next building over that housed the internet. Less then 20 yards away ... damn, it was so close.



Anyways, internet was a no go for a while there, since we had to visit the library on campus, and it was a matter of do what needs to be done, and get the hell out of there. I didn't have a secure connection, so putting in passwords and all wasn't going to happen.



This topic though, it definitely fits given recent events. See, I have a good, decent man of my own. When we were woke up by a neighbor pounding on the door screaming that the building was on fire, I tossed the car keys to my daughter and told her to go, then grabbed what needed to be grabbed. Hubby was right behind me, shoving me out the door.



And as I cried, sitting there in the car down the road and watched as the building next to us when up in flames, he was there, holding strong for our family. See, he's like that.



Oh, he has his bad days ... he has a fine temper, and an attitude to match. And when we both get mad, the screaming matches are top of our lungs, no holds barred. He is by no means perfect, but perfection can be boring.



But when he has his good days, watch out.



Our 13 year anniversary is coming up, and the fire got me to remembering times gone by. And the trip down memory lane wasn't always pleasent, but it only made me appreciate him more.



His patience when I was coming back into myself again, since he was my first relatonship after being raped. Yeah ... he could have been a rat-bastard who used my fears to subjegate me, and mold me into a shell of myself. Instead, he was a loving ass and pushed me ... pushed me to find myself, to have faith in myself ... and he pushes me still.



He is the reason that I write ... the reason that I went to college ... the reason that I finished college ... the reason that I push myself so much. Some days, my darkest days, and I have them still, he is the reason I keep breathing. I have struggled with depression most of my life, and he's the one who watches, and notices, and says it's time to visit with the doctor now. It's time to get help, and work through things, before I do something that I can't take back.



And when I need shelter from the world, he's there. But what makes him so damn special isn't what he does for me. It's what he does for our daughter.



He's the kind of dad who pushes her to meet her potential, to use her brains, but showers her with love when she fails, when she doesn't believe in herself enough to try, and when she quits, just as much as when she succeeds. He listens. He hugs. He brushes hair, and chases the bad dreams away. He teaches her to defend herself, and is ready to defend her if he can. He shops with her - although, there he does grumble, cause hello, she is a teenager now. He hikes with her, and teaches her, and leaves himself open to learn from her.



She will grow into a confident young woman, and know that a man should treat her well, treat her with respect, give her attention, and just listen to her, because he is showing her that. And if a man does treat her wrong, daddy will kick his ass ... or sit back and laugh at the jackass as she takes care of it herself.



That, above all else, is why he deserves praise.

Fun biology facts ...

I am the very model of a modern Major-General; I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral ...

Yes indeed, as the resident biologist, you had to know that I would take this topic there. Especially since it was my idea. LOL

Okay, so some weird, unique, and somewhat gross trivial trivia from the biological sciences.

First up ... Placobdelloides jaegerskioeldi (say that three times real fast!)

This creature is a leech, But not just an 'ol leech, this little sucker is found in the rectum region of hippos. So far, it is the only leech in the world that is specialized to one animal species. And, it has camoflage, blending in the coloration of the hippo's skin.

Next is butt breathing. : )

Yep, you read that correct. Although, technically, it isn't really breathing, but the ability to intake oxgen via membranes in the anus region that make some species of turtles so interesting. Yep - turtles!

Clownfish sex change

Indeed, that little Nemo fish has the potential to one day be a girl. That's because clownfish are born male, and when the dominant female in the group dies, the dominant male will change sexes, and another male will take over as dominate male.

Pregnant males?

That's right, it's the seahorse males who "birth" their young. The female inserts her eggs into a brood pouch on the male, and he then fertilizes them, and carries them until they are "born".

I could go on and on ... but really, do you want me to? LOL These are just some of the tid-bits that are running around in my brain thanks to my professors. As for why I am quoting Gilbert and Sullivan, well, I just like the song. LOL

I know the scientific names of beings animalculous; In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral, I am the very model of a modern Major-General. ...

Visual inspiration for the auditory writer...

I've spent the last week reading, and mulling over, the posts of my fellow grippers. Each of us is very different, and I love that we all have slightly different takes on things.

I love looking at attractive pictures, and I admit, sometimes I will find one that just fits a character. But that is normally well after the character has always started speaking to me. Very rarely will an image spark a story ... although sometimes I will see an image the strikes me so much that I just know I will be using it in a cover, someway, somehow.

For me, I hear things ... and that is what will spark my imagination. I hear whispers of conversation from the couple on the walking track behind me. I overhear a bit of a conversation in the mall. Just little teasers here and there, that is what forms characters.

Very rarely do my characters come out on the pages as fully fleshed out. I might give hair and eye color, sometimes references to tattoos and piercings, but I leave the actual details to the reader. Why?

I admit, it isn't something so charitable as I want each reader to feel drawn into the story. See, I am not that smart. LOL

For me, it is simply the fact that I many times don't know what the character looks like. See, I am an auditory person. I am not visual. To illustrate, many of you know that I am a biology major. Which means, lots of labs. But, while I LOVED my classes, and passed the lecture portions with flying colors, I often bombed the labs. Not because I didn't care, and not because I didn't study my ass off. I just don't have very good visual recognition. I look at a bird and see a brown bird. Not the eye stripe that my ornithology professor saw that told him that the bird was this type of warbler and not that type. Just never clicked.

Partially because when I close my eyes, I see nothing. I don't visualize jack. Sometimes I see flashes ... but that is about it. I am an auditory person. I hear my stories in my mind, almost like a narration ... I don't see my characters.

So, long story short, eye candy is nice for self-lovin' purposes, but doesn't do much for muse sparking.

It's a lot like breathing ...

I've been asked many times to describe what it is like to be bisexual. Not the whole, what's it like to be into males and females, and possibly have some wild threesomes. Those queries I tend to ignore, unless I am in full bitch mode, and then you really don't want me to answer. : )

No, what I am talking about are the honest, and serious queries of what it is like to be constantly divided. To have sexual yearning that earns the labeling of fense-sitter, and other less friendly terms.

To them I simply say, it is a lot like breathing.

As Lisabet gave us the concept to go on, she mentioned the metaphor aspect. How breathing has been likened to many things. For me, bisexuality can be likened to breathing.

I may not have chosen it ...

Some days, I might not even like it (I am married after all, and while he does support my sexuality, it is a struggle for me at times) ...

But you know what, it is a simple part of my biology, much like breathing. I can no more stop being bisexual than I can stop breathing. Except for in death ... and then, I have stopped really being anything, so that doesn't count.

Sure, like would be simpler if I wasn't bisexual. Then again, life would be simpler if I didn't need to breath too. Space travel would certainly be a lot easier to achieve, as would swimming. And no worries if the cabin depressurizes during a flight - I wouldn't need the oxygen mask.

Breathing for me is simply a part of being human, of living. We intake air and remove the oxygen from it, and then we exhale air, pushing out all the waste gases. We don't think about it, we don't debate and worry and fret and struggle with ourselves over it. It simply is, as it is. And when we don't like it, and hold our breath, we reach a point where we pass out and our bodies simply take over automatically, and we breath again.

At one point in my life, I was like that. I denied my sexuality, I couldn't handle it. (Mostly because of the lack of support from family). I was told my liking other girls was hormones, and that I would grow out of it. Because I craved the support and love of my mother, I tried. Goodness knows, I tried to stop liking girls. But, just like a toddler having a fit, and holding their breath ... I passed out (metaphorically) and my body took over. Seeing attractive women, I would feel my pulse race, my breath quicken. My body grow moist and receptive, just like when I saw an attractive male.

Finally ... I reached a point in time where I accepted that I am bisexual. That it is like breathing, something I have no control over, and really, don't want to.

Epic FAIL!

Self-promotions huh.

I'd love to be able to wax poetic on how I have solved the problem of how to promo yourself - and your writings. But in all reality, I am still an amateur at the game that is promotions.

I don't do the mass postings ... because those just piss me off when I get hit with them on the lists that I am on.

I guest blog some, but really, I don't have that much to say on a normal basis.

I also don't have ads up all over the place ... because I have found they don't work for me.

Why?

Well ... I think part of it is I have one pen name, and my writings are all over the place. I write first to please myself. If I am happy with the result, then I polish it, and work to share it with others. I don't have a brand ... a signiture font ... or anything that makes a reader know they are looking at a Michelle Houston book.

Not to say that there aren't common themes in my writings ... I tend to write lighter stories. No real angst, other than emotional issues here and there. Despite the sexuality of the characters, and the setting of the story, they are all lighter reads.

When it comes down to it, I just don't have the time to spend with all the various promo suggestions that are plentiful from other writers. : ) I do what I can, as I can, and have to let the rest work itself out.

I do have a website that I work to keep updated. I HATE, let me repeat that, HATE when I go to try and find an author's website and find that there isn't one. I also HATE when they do have a website, but it hasn't been updated in forever. Even if nothing new is happening ... make some changes here and there!

I also have a blog that I post whatever comes to mind on. LOL

I have the news groups ... I am a member of a few select groups, where reception has been good to my writings.

I also try different publishers, because each has a different approach to how they promo their authors. (As well as how they treat their authors).

So I guess in the area of self-promotion, I have performed an EPIC FAIL! But I am happy with where I am at ... I know I won't be a Nora Roberts, or Kay Hooper, or Nalini Singh, and I am happy with that.

I have had my own little moderate success ... and at the and of the day, I write what I am moved to write. And I promo when I can find the time ...

That said, if you are in the market for some kickin' Michelle Houston bookmarks, swing by my website and select the goodies page. I have some really nice ones available. I do love creating my goodies ...

www.michellehouston.com

Shhhhh! It's a secret!

This topic was really hard for me - not because I didn't have forbidden knowledge at a young age, but because I can't remember a time when I didn't.

It really sucked having to do the whole "Great, Santa is coming" line of crap on Christmas morning at 7, 8, 9, 10, and a few years thereafter, when I knew my folks were lying to me. How? Um, because I was a KID. I had to get something out of my parents bedroom, even though I knew I wasn't supposed to go in there, and I should wait until they got home to get it for me, a few daysbefore Christmas and stumbled upon the stash of Christmas presents sitting under blankets, etc in their bedroom.

Fast forward a few years, and we see me at 11, knowing my parents are freaks! Why? Because they - gasp - have sex! How did I know this? Did I walk in on them? Um, sad to say that wasn't what damaged my fragile psyche. Nope, it was worse, I was in my parents room getting something (again - I was a KID!) and it couldn't wait until they got home to get it for me. I found a dog-eared (the horror of that alone - WTF dog-ears a book?) copy of the Kama Sutra, and some really interesting novelty rings with couples having weird sex on them. Yea know what I am talking about - 69 and woman on top stuff. LOL

The best memory for me though, is at 13 we were visiting my grandparents. And I had started reading romances. And my grandmother would go to the used bookstore and load up on them - the old Harlequin Presents ones and some Silhouette ones as well. She'd get the value boxes, where the store owner just tossed in 10-12 dozens of books and sold them for $2-5.00 or so. And often times, she wouldn't even check them out, just bring the box home and sort through them later.

So we went visiting, and I got to go through her newest 2 boxes. And I read those things like they were candy. The best one though was a secret - no one could know about it. Because somewhere, a goof had been made, and poor grandma wound up with a lesbian romance in her box. And oh what a romance it was. The characters got sexy-nasty with each other. The best scene involved a candle being used in place of a dildo - a term I didn't know at the time.

Keep in mind - at 13, I was naive. I had only kissed one person - a girl (because we were both curious). I only knew about sex from romance novels, and not always was it nice sex. So that book was an eye-opening experience. It also started the faint knowledge that something about the book was captivating to me. Something about two girls caused a curious melting inside of me. The same kind of curious sensation I got when I read about a man and a woman.

While reading this forbidden book of two girls, I had my eyes opened to a new world of possibilities. And got my ass grounded when my mom found the book days later when she was packing my suitcase to head home. Oh the shitstorm that created.

To this day, I have tried to find that book again. But without knowing the author or title, it is hard as hell. So if anyone reading this knows of an old lesbian romance which involves the characters using a candle to have sex, let me know.

Oh no, not another cliche!

It was actually a blog post that I was reading that sparked this topic, and it has been interesting to see where each Gripper took it.

The blogger was bemoaning the fact that another vampire romance had just come out. She was complaining basically that if you have read one, you have read them all.

As a writer, I was set back. True, there are some authors that follow the set cliche plotlines for specific types of stories, and don't add their own spin. But without reading the story to determine if the author had done that or not, the blogger just made the assumption that if you had read one vampire romance you had read them all.

That would be like me saying if you have read one story involving dragons, you have read them all. Yet, I know that to be false.

Yes ... plotline are recycled, reused, and reworked by authors. As someone mentioned earlier this week, there are only so many of them. It's what the author does with each that counts.

For example, vampires are vampires, are vampires, right? Um, wrong.

Lisabet and I both have vampire ebooks out, but if you read them both, you will see they are not the same plotline, the same vampires recycled. (Fire in the Blood by Lisabet - TotalEBound and Blood Slave by Me - Phaze). Each of us has a different world we have created, with different rules.

J R Ward writes about tortured vampires (Black Dagger Brotherhood), but not in the same way as Anne Rice did. Angela Knight has given her latest addition to the vampire romance genre a different twist with merging her world with Camalot/Avalon legends (Mageverse series).

Mary Janice Davidson took hers into the chick lit, humerous, realm (the Undead/Betsy Books), as did Michele Bardsley (Brokenheart Ok), but still their worlds are far, far apart in style and concept.

It's when an author falls into a rut with their writing that I start to see cliche's coming at me. There is one author who I hung in with for quite a few books books, buying them all faithfully, and then the novelty wore off. The books were becoming cliche - all of them cookie cutter reproductions of the stories already told. I got to the point I couldn't tell the characters apart anymore in my own head. They all bleed together. Now, I borrow them from the library, because there are two sub-characters I want to know more about, who are still distinct in my mind. And because I want to know the over-all arc of the storyline, which is still intriguing. I skip almost all of the relationship stuff between the main characters in the books now - which is truly sad, but it just got boring. (Not revealing the author here - because opinions can and do vary, and I am not going to trash another author. I will however state my opinion, in general terms, as to the plotlines without giving too much away.)

So when I read posts, or hear people talking, where an entire sub-genre has been reduced to cliches, it does make me question my own writings. Have I worked to create distinct, different views on things? Considering my vampires in Blood Slave are blind, I think I have a different spin on things.

Cliches themselves can be a good thing, as an overarcing plotline. The devil just needs to be in the details. There needs to be variation, and stretching of the author's writing abilities, a new world created. It needs to read distinct - different.

Practically perfect

As Mike said yesterday, "Flaws are what make us human". And I have to secretly admit, at least in my eyes, flaws are what make us love!

I used to love watching Mary Poppins as a kid (ok, I still wait it now and again - because I love musicals), but what also gave me pause is her Practically Perfect in Every Way bit. Sure, she was fun and had a good time with the kids, but looking at it through adult eyes, how much fun could she have really been for poor Bert?

They have a fight, and she is always right! They do something together, and her's is always done perfectly.

Now that I have started to really explore modern novels, sometimes to the tune of 10-20 a month, I am starting to also find my prefered characters. And guess what? They all have flaws. Sometimes, some very serious ones at that. Normally, their flawed are emotional, pychological, etc.

I am not one for the story-book tale where the rich character sweeps the heroine off of her feet to atone for a mistake, oftentimes made because he flew off of the handle and complete tore into someone he supposedly loves, simply because he couldn't handle admitting to himself that he does love her. Nope, not talking those kinds of flaws.

I am talking tortured heros/heroines. Characters that have truly lived - have been flawed by their lives - and the hell it brings to their current realtionships.

Most recent example - Barrons from the Fever series by K M Moning. I LOVE that guy! Not so much on Mac, but I want me a Barrons! He has a secret, a very big one, they he has to keep. No matter what - and it leads to some serious issues in his relationship, because he kind of lacks good interpersonal skills. Seriously lacks them.

Then there is J R Ward's Brotherhood. They are so perfectly flawed it hurts. And I love then all! Each has their own issues ... and fights falling in love, but when they do, look out!

One book that I am so eagerly waiting on it is about to kill me is Kiss of Snow by Nalini Singh. (Hawke's story for those that know the Psy/Changeling series). He has some SERIOUS issues that will need to be addressed. In fact, all of the characters in that series do - especially the Psy. In their bit for perfection, for something called silent, they created flaws in their own psyche. Oh yeah, I gobble that stuff up!

I love the alpha heros who just have to take charge, but can't because their woman are not pushovers, and they have to learn to control their impulse to protect to the point of locking their woman away. For example, another Nalini Singh series - her Archangel's. In the three core books, the Archangel Raphael love warrier women, is drawn to them, and his beloved is/was a mortal woman who hunted vampires. Serious personality conflicts as he pushed to protect, and she pushed to live her life true to herself.

I say give me the flaws! It makes the love that builds that much sweeter. Especially in real life ... we are able to love, despite the flaws, because there are flaws. Who really wants perfection?

The Next Chapter

I write erotica and erotic romance. With each genre, there is a slightly different expectation of the storyline, the graphicness of sexual content, and the ending.

With erotic romance, in contrast to romance, there is a decision to make when it comes time to end the story. There are options: happily ever after OR happy for now OR there is always the option of not going with a set HEA or HFN, but a sense of freedom and hope for the character. With romance, of course, you expect a HEA ending. That's it ... and if it isn't there, heaven help you when readers are done with you. ; )

For the most part, even though I write erotic romance rather than romance, I tend to stick with the HEA or HFN ending, even though I do sometimes wonder. What really happens next?

A friend of mine who was in a writer's group with me used to tease me, in a good natured friendly way, about reading romances. (His girlfriend read them too ... sometimes with him). And being a writer, he decided to imagine what would happen next, and he wrote a short story to follow the end of a romance novel. Basically, it took place twenty years after the end of a contemporary romance, where now the characters had sent their eldest off to college (because several romances involve a pregnancy), they had both gained weight, the husband had taken to watching TV and hanging with the guys, and the wife had taken to her own activities, inlcuding an affair to feel that spark of romance, of feeling wanted, again ... and the couple had grown apart.

Basically ... it showed a harsh reality that can happen without both parties continuing to keep the romance, the love, and the passion going.

I have had the accusation levels at me that reading romances and erotic romances, and writing erotica and erotic romances, is escapism. And you know what - it is! I can let myself and all my problems drift away temporarily when I emerse myself in the world the author has created, or the world I am creating. Which we sometimes need! But at the same time ... they give me a sense of what I need to do to keep my life from becoming that Next Chapter story my friend wrote.

I want my own HEA/HFN ending. And to that end, romances can show us to be open to gestures of romances, to communicate (because lack of it is often the issue in romances) and to do what is needed to keep the love from turning to a sense of purely contentness. Love takes WORK!

What worries me about romances ... is simply that some readers fall into the world the author has created and they loose touch with reality. That romances are fiction - reality, and love, takes work! Love isn't as condensed of a process that we often portray in our stories ... limited by word and page count. It isn't constant flowers, candy, and romanctic gestures. And I worry that some readers fall into the Cinderella fantasy that Prince Charming will sweep them off of their feet and everything will be perfect forever and ever. Love just doesn't work that way.

So while I work hard to stay true to my characters, and to give them a HEA/HFN, I also work to make sure I am keeping the romantic gestures realistic. And I don't write about princes and billionaires. I keep my characters as everyday people. (With one exception, and then the ending wasn't a normal HEA/HFN ending.) Yes there is romance, but gestures are within reason, within the ability of most readers.

I say bring on the romances! Erotic romances! Let us choose to read them, if we wish. Let us choose to write them HOW we wish. But at the end of the story, when the book has been closed, remember ... it is just a book. Take from it ideas to keep the fires burning at home, or to let yourself be open to finding love, but don't use them as a playbook. If I do this, then this will happen. Love just doesn't work that way ...

... but happily ever after is possible. It just takes work.

That's my 2cents on the topic anyways. Who knows, I could be wrong. Been known to happen. : )

Here's to new beginnings ... what was I thinking!

First I want to say, Ash you will be missed! I hope that you will have time to come back occasionally as a guest poster. And to all my fellow US citizens, hope you had a happy and safe thanksgiving.

Now on to new beginning ...

They are thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

I am about to start a part of my life anew in just a few weeks. I will be graduating college after 6 and 1/2 long years, and I will finally have a degree. I am so excited and yet ... not.

When I started my degree program, things were looking good. Teachers were due to retire soon, states were upping their requirments of science for students to graduate, and jobs were to be plentiful.

The reality now, several years later, is looking rather bleak. Teachers are holding off returing because they simply can't afford to. Classroom sizes are increasing as districts are requiring teachers that already have jobs to handle the increased demands in science credit requirement.

The new chapter in my life that is just beginning isn't starting out so well. With a mountain of school loan debt, and no real job prospects, I am looking at rushing right in to the master's program just to defer my debt for another two years in the hopes that I will be able to find a job then.

New beginnings can be a wonderful thing, when you find a new love, when you start a new career, when you embrace a hobby that fills you with passion.

But new beginnings can also be rather disheartening. I know that I have done something to be proud of, I stuck with school and I will soon have a piece of paper to reward all of my effors. Yet when job prospects are so dim, and I know we will be struggling the next few years just to break even, I could really do without the mountain of school loan debt.

So in a few years, I might have a better outlook. But for now ... new beginnings kind of suck.

Death After Life ...

I am quite certain indeed that there is death after life. We are conceived, we are born, we age, we die. It is a very natural cycle.

Now, looking at the flip side, is there life after death? I have absolutely no clue.

I can say that I hope there is, because the very idea of sudden winking out of existance scares the everloving crap out of me. The idea that existance is merely a firing of neurons, a happenstance of one amino acid bumping into another several millions years ago and having such a good time that they stuck together, is terrifying.

Yet I really, really, really hope it is more than fire and brimstone vs heavenly choirs. Spending an eternity floating among the stars, seeing worlds born and suns die, is my kind of an eternity.

Honestly, I have had full blown panic attacks on the subject.

So please, forgive me for my brief post, but I am going to turn back over to the questions of death after life before I hurl.

Indeed, I believe in death after life.

NaNoWriMo? Um, I think not ...

I would LOVE to be able to crank out a novel in a month. Heck, these days, I would be glad to crank out a novella in a month. A short story even would be nice.

Given that my tank of creativity has been sitting on empty since March, even a flash fiction piece would be just dandy right now.

I love the concept of being able to push yourself to ge a novel done, just get it done, in a month. I love the idea of other writers providing support and guidance.

The most I have ever written in a month was 12K and I was about whipped out by the end of it. Then again, I am happy writing short stories, so that was three seperate worlds I had tapped in to. Worldbuilding, character development, dialog, and all ... three times over. I felt emotionally drained, but man, what a feeling.

So I can certainly see the draw of just opening the flood gates of creativity and seeing what comes rushing out.

I'd love to see a reciprical concept for short story writers. Maybe a NaShWriWk. : ) Maybe that would give my muse a kick in the ass that she needs.

Now my husband, he could easily do a NaNoWriMo. In fact, that's just the way he writes, in great big floods. I've gone to classes and come home hours later to find him sitting in his chair watching TV like the great brain dead, with a goofy smile on his face. His welcome to me is "I wrote 10,000 words". The next day, more of the same. A few days later, it happens again.

Maybe a week later, again. He is one lucky son of a bitch like that. But I love him.

And really, I couldn't handle writing like that. I like my brain to be functioning in the evenings.

So I will stick with my current mode of writing as the mood strikes me, but I sure wish my muse wasn't such a fickle bitch. I swear, she is musing around ... cause I haven't gotten any since March!

Ask me no questions, I'll give you no excuses ...

Sorry about missing last week. I won't offer a reasoning, suffice to say, life turned into a chaotic mess.

Now, onward to this week. : )

As some of you know, I am student teaching this semester. And I have to say, some of these kids are about to kill me.

Let me back up a minute. I love my kids, really I do. I have started to hear about books they love, and TV shows they watch, and even some of the BFF's and the things they do on the weekends. They are starting to accept my limited presence in their lives. Some are even asking about how I am.

So the ones who just seem to roll into class, no homework to turn in, who sit there glassy eyed all block (an hour and a half long) waiting for the bell to ring and they can show the first sign of animation as they bolt out of the classroom as if the room were on fire, are really starting to get to me. (I should also mention, I am teaching high school Biology and Earth Science).

I ask where their homework is, and get an excuse.

I ask why they weren't paying attention, and get an excuse.

I ask anything, and there is a ready and quickly delivered excuse.

For these students, I want to shout OWN UP TO YOUR MISTAKES! You forgot to do your homework, fine. You forgot it at home, fine. Don't give me some lame-ass, whimpy attempt at a reasoning why you should be special and get to turn it in tomorrow. At least be creative - an alien came down last night and snatched you up right after school and didn't return you until five minutes before school started. And they returned you dressed in fresh school clothes. There I could give 'Give-A'Shit points" if nothing else. Cause you gave a shit enough to make up something creative.

I have never heard so many excuses in my life, and some of the other kids are starting to get pissed off too. Why should they get special treatment if I bust my ass to turn stuff in on time? Um, they don't. At least not from me. I can guarantee that much.

The few students who even have legit excuses where I would make allowances, they just don't ask. They man up, and if they don't have stuff done, well, they just don't. I've offered opening to some of them and they don't take the bait.

I am getting so sick of excuses ... at least, the ones that aren't creative. I would probably give points at this point in time if they just cared enough to give a wildly out there excuse.

Zombies. Yeah, something with zombies would be great.

Ohhhhh, or they got so wrapped up in the few first seasons of Law and Order that they just HAD to do a two day marathon of the episodes.

Wait, then I might be pissed they didn't invite me.

Ah well ...

... that's my excuse, and I am sticking to it.

I like smut and I cannot lie ...

I have a confession to make. Are you ready for it?

I write smut.

That's right, you heard me. I write erotica and erotic romances, and I like it!

What's more, I have been told that I am halfway decent at it.

Even more … I READ it too! Especially the two male threesome stuff. I really like the erotic romances where the two guys aren't afraid to share a women, and enjoy each other. *wink, wink*

Here's another confession, but you have to promise not to tell anyone. Seriously, no one can know. Okay?

*Looks around to make sure no one else is listening*

Here goes …

I look at porn pictures and sometimes, I watch porn.

That's right, I am a naughty girl.

But I have to confess, I am not much on the heterosexual stuff. I like guys and all, but most of the porn that is done for heterosexual couples is rather boring actually.

I used to watch the Red Shoe Diaries though. Those were hot for a teenager. LOL

My secret porn stash now is all lesbian in nature (or at least images of women). And hubby doesn't mind. In fact, he buys it for me. : )

My favorite nude model is Elizabeth Ann Hilden. I fell for her images in the Penthouse shoot that she did, and I have since collected a fairly decent set of images from those the photographer offers.

I also really like the lesbian porn (at least some of it) that Charlie Lane has been in. I am slowly working to gather a decent video collection.

I am not much on giggles, which she occasionally does, but something about her, especially when she is going down on another girl, just turns me on.

So I can forgive the occasional air-head appearing moments.

Really I can.

Now, that said, you have to promise not to tell anyone, okay? Because we all know that most societies (including the US) just can't handle knowing that people are enjoying sex.

We can't watch it, read about it, have it or write about it. Warning, sarcasm ahead. Must be why romances are slowly getting more and more subtle about things and the porn industry has all but died off.

Remember, women are just supposed to lie there, close our eyes, and think of the Queen mum. Or at least we were before we broke from the mother country. Not sure who we are supposed to think of now.

Ack! No wonder I haven't been doing thingsright. I have no clue who I am supposed to be thinking of while fully dressed and hubby does what he needs to to get his rocks off. Someone help! I have to stop enjoying sex, stop watching porn, and stop looking at images of hot men and women.

It's just so naughty! But damn, it feels so good!

Anyways, that's my secret. But shhhhh, you can't tell anyone!

You might be wondering just what will I actually do?

I know, I am a bad, bad, bad Gripper. I missed the last two weeks, and this post is coming in way late in the day. All I can say is - Student Teaching. Yeah, figured that you would understand.

All week I have been reading the posts from my fellow Grippers, and when I had a spare moment, I have commented. And I have to say, I can see what each of them is saying.

As for myself, well the title should say it all. My husband likes to tease me that for an erotic writer I am the most prudish person that he has ever met.

I don't like (having tried at least twice)/won't try (total ick factor) so many things, several of which I have no real worries about because he wouldn't ask me to. Among these are:
* sex in public
* hardcore BDSM
* pain-play (lowest threashold for pain in the world!)
* EA (see my comment to Lisabet)
* animals just don't turn me on
* nor do people under age, and as I am getting older, under age to me is getting older to - I am sitting at 25 right now
* the standard no-nos: golden showers, scat, necro (although zombie sex, I might be able to find a spin on that one LOL), incest (my sisters just aren't that hot), and so on
* this list can go on ...

... and on ....

... ... and on ...

but I won't bore you with it. Just to say that I am a tad bit more adventurous in my writings than in real life, as you can tell with some of my D/s, and BDSM stories. Prude, remember?

But my Kinky Limit today ... Breast torture.

Yep, that's right.

I have two buddies, whom I love dearly, who used to write for a site devoted to breast torture. Paid good. I thought about it. I debated it, especially with mounting student loan debt. But in the end, I just couldn't do it.

I an write about some things that I will never do in reality (such as mild blood play involving gay kinky D/s vampires as in Blood Slave, and a lesbian couple having sex in a peep show booth, like a story in Private Eyes and oh so many more - all available from Phaze.com). I have even debated an alternate pen name that isn't in any way accociated with "me" for some of the more taboos stories, but I haven't had a good enough story idea hit me that calls for it. So far, I have been cool with everything I have written being associated with me.

When it came to breast torture though, I just couldn't do it. I couldn't write a story where a women got off on having her breasts tortured, and her sig other (male or female) liked doing such things as cutting, binding, piercing, etc her breasts.

Not that I am knocking it for those who do enjoy it, because like I said, there is a LOT of things that my prudish ass just won't do but that I will write about because I know some do enjoy it, nor an I knocking those who write it but might not get off on it. But I reached a personal limit there.

Maybe it is my pain threshold, maybe it is my fear of bloodborne disease, maybe it is the fact that I just don't find blood sexy. Who knows.

But for me that is a major limit. I can say without a doubt that you will NEVER read anything by me that involves breast torture in the more intense sense. I have dabbled with wax, and nipple clamps, but that it the upper limit.

When is too much help too much?

We all know that good crit partners are worth their weight in gold. Great crit partners need to have shrines erected to them.

But what about the ones who try, bless them they do try, but man alive do they go massively overboard.

I've come to the belief that a good/great crit partner not only understands the mechanics of writing, has a innate talent for the feel of a story, but also is in touch with the emotional balance of who they are critting for.

What the hell am I saying you ask?

Well ... some authors like everything spelled out at once. They want all the red ink (or whatever color is used for tracking changes if you go that route) to be done at once. Any punctuation, spelling, sentence flow, lack of parallel structure and dangling partaciple in the whole story - they want marked and found.

That's great for them. I applaud them for being able to emotionally handle that kind of a hit.

But there are other authors, myself being one of them, that are more fragile writers. Let's focus first on the story and characters, getting that all smoothed out and flowing well, and then we can do a second round of edits and hit the mechanics. Because I tell you, I have sat and cried my eyes out opening a document that looked like a technicolor nightmare from the track changes marks. It looked like the thing was bleeding ... and it was hard to see where each line pointed to and follow it all. My husband had to sit and print it out and white out stuff so that I could focus on just parts of it and not scream. IT didn't help that it was my first venture into a much longer word count that I had normally written at the time.

I am not saying baby a writing partner, but at the same time, realize that sometimes too much help at once can be cruel. Especially if
a) your writing parner hasn't managed to write a lot lately and this is their first foray back int to the cycle,
b) it's their first attempt at a new approach, idea, concept,
c) they are one of the uber busy types who only can give 30 minutes a week to their writings,
d) they are depressive by nature, and
e) anything else I might have forgotten to mention to keep this post from going into a novel length.

That's where a good/great writing partner adds in that element of being in touch with their writing partner. You don't have to crawl into their skin to understand that maybe they would be overwhelmed by all of this at once.

Just remember not to be unintentionally cruel while you are honestly trying to be kind.

The Air That I Breathe

This week's topic I tried to come up with something eloquent to say, and I have been stuck that it really boils down to one simple statement.

Why do I write?

Um, because I have to.

I'd like to say more grandious things than that, but at end of a very long week (started student teaching last week, had open house last night, my daughter started school this week, and I just got off of working my job that puts food on the table while I pay for the priveledge to teach) so my brain is pretty much gone, and I am beat.

I write because, yes, sometimes the voices of my characters demand I do so. I am a VERY auditory person, so when I dream, it is in voices. I mentioned that once before I know. So I can hear dialog, and someone narrating a scene to me.

I write because some nights, I lay awake with story ideas dancing in my head, and it's either jot them down, or know that I will suffer many more sleepless nights until they finally fade away. I lost many kickin' stories because I was too exhausted to get up and write. I just laid there, hoping to drift away.

I write because I need something in my life than is mine, that no one can take from me, expect me to give up, claim in any way for themselves, or put a price on. (My family is not guilty of this, but oh so many others are).

I write because I love loosing myself in the worlds that I create. I savor those moments.

So in short, I write because I have to. I need to. There really isn't any other choice for me.

My Top Ten Pet Peeves

10. People who don't follow directions. Actually read instructions and hum, follow them. Novel concept I know.

9. People who don't do their job. When someone is relying on you for something, you might want to provide it.

8. Publishers who treat their authors, artists, editors, and other staff like a nuisance. (We have already covered that treating them like dirt goes beyond a pet peeve in blackout stage). But publishing is a business, like any other, and well employees (be they authors, editors, artists, staff, etc) deserve to be treated well, and valued, not made to feel like a nuisance.

7. Divas. Yep, major frickin' pet peeve. Really, I have no problem if you want to ride the drama llama, but when it parks itself in my front room and starts eating my carpet, we have a problem. I don't mind being here for people, but seriously. Come on! I don't need to know every little thing about your life, and everything you view as going wrong.

6. Stupid people. Yeah, I know, the world is full of them. But come on! There are levels of lack of common sense, and stupid people just piss me off. Ignorance is no excuse, and its never too late to learn.

5. People who don't understand that "I don't know" is a valid answer. Don't blow sunshine up my ass, or attempt to bullshit me. I don't know works for me. I can understand and accept that no one knows everything. What I can't understand or accept is when people can't simple acknowledge the fact that they don't know something.

4. People who are more interested in fixing the blame than in fixing the problem. In most cases, who's to blame isn't as important as fixing whatever the problem is.

3. Being thorough doesn't mean being nit-pickity. Please, when you are asked to be thorough on cover art forms, that means don't just put "this is a heterosexual romance with a buff man and a curvy woman". Give the artist more than that. But, please, by the same token don't tell the artist that the couple met at a costume dance in a ballroom in an spaceship theme where the woman was wearing a green velvet 1816 dress and the man is wearing buff colored knee breeches in the style of 1649, a patch work peacock jacket and brown knee high boots with a diamond buckle favored by the king of that time. Oh, the woman is wearing a triple strand of pearls with a emerald the size of a fist on the third strand and THAT is the image you want on the cover. Seriously, we aren't going to set up a photo shoot to get the image just so. We do try out best to accommodate, but come on!

2. Don't be a hypocrite. If you expect someone to hold to a deadline, then you need to meet your own dates. IE if you say something will be returned, paid, etc by a certain date - um, make it happen!

1. People who wait until the last minute to do stuff. If you half ass things, then at best, they are half assed. Not something to be proud of. Now that said, some people have a talent for working under pressure and can truly pull off things well if they wait until the last minute. But if you are not one of them - then don't do it! Certainly don't wait until the last minute to do something that requires input or action on my part. I am not going to rush because you are a dumb-ass and can't manage time better.

* * *

Whew …

I admit, I feel better. : ) That doesn't mean that I have covered all of my pet peeves, but maybe, just maybe, people will read this list and stop doing the top 10! At least in regards to me.