Spooky All Year

Tags

creepy, dreams, horror, nightmares, old building, Spooky All Year

Time for…

Inspired by Faith McKay and The Midnight Society! When we celebrate the fact that scary isn’t only for October.

For today I want to share with you my most recent dream…some might call it a nightmare, but I thought it was pretty cool.

For choreography sake… in my crazy, mixed-up dream-world there’s a wall with stairs going up on both sides with a door at the top… so you can go up one side, through a door and down the other side. There’s a door at the bottom of one staircase and another in the wall to connect the rooms. Make sense? It made perfect sense to dream-me.

And now… enter the weirdness that is my mind…

 

Eerie green light bathed the room. A crumbling, rotting room… where? I have no idea, but it’s a decrepit building…huge, empty, and dark. I’m descending stairs, my feet crunching on grit and debris. I go through a door and peer through another opening on my left. A green light flashes. There’s someone in the building with me.

The dark figure crosses the room and I duck out of sight. Who is it? I don’t know. The way he stalks across the room, that light shining into the dark corners, makes my stomach knot. Dressed all in black, his face hidden, the figure closes on the door and I hold my breath. Should I go back up the stairs? Should I run? I press my back against the wall and wait, staring at the dark opening, waiting for that terrible green light to announce his coming.

But the light never appears. The creak of his weight on the steps in the other room creeps through the shadows. I glance up the stairs, at the door the figure will soon come through.

He’ll see me…

…if I stay here…

                                                     …he’ll see me…

And I don’t know who he is or what he wants, but I don’t want him to see me.

I’ll wait. I’ll stay as still as possible. When he crosses the threshold, I’ll run into the other room. I’ll get away. A flash of green light shines through the opening at the top of the stairs, invading my space.

He’s coming.

I inch towards the door, my escape, but dirt and rubble crunch under my feet. Too loud.

I stop.

Hold my breath.

He’ll hear me.

Then he’ll find me.

I can’t let him find me.

Silence closes around me. Did he hear me? Does he know I’m here? Is he waiting, listening? What if he’s coming down the stairs… unseen, unheard?

Moving as slowly as possible I pick up my foot. I need to get to the door. I need to get away. The decaying bits of the building shuffle and scrape at my movements, but maybe the sound is louder to me, maybe it’s only a rat to the green-light man.

As I move to peer around the door, light catches my eye. He’s coming through the door at the top of the stairs.

I’ll have to move… soon.

 

Then I woke up…

I hope dream-me got away. I hope that wasn’t Freddy Krueger…nah, he’s got knife fingers not some green light. Probably just some random serial killer. I’ll blame the fact that my friends at The Midnight Society introduced me to slasher films and books… THANKS GUYS! You’re the best.

Odd how in dreams, everything makes sense. But after waking, I curled my arm around my pillow and wondered why anyone would design a building like that with stairs that made no sense. I wondered why I felt threatened by this figure, who never said a word. I wondered why so many times I know the places in my dreams, even if they look different, I see them as my house or somewhere familiar. But not that building.

I’ve had a few dreams that seriously disturbed me. This one wasn’t the worst, but I’ll remember it, maybe forever.

And I love those dreams, the ones that stick in my head, the ones that send my brain spinning with fear and visions of what might be.

Happy #SpookyAllYear!

And The Nestpitchers are Off!

Tags

#nestpitch, agents, dreams, never give up, writing

Nestpitch agent round has begun.

My team #TeamEggsellent has five entries. We critiqued, and we cheered! I’M STILL CHEERING!

Those fabulous writers have revised and revised, and now the day has arrived. Go see here.

Who will get requests? Anyone? We’ll have to wait and see. I know all the writers from all the teams are holding their breaths, possibly pacing, maybe comfort eating, and pretty much doing everything they can to NOT think about it… CAUSE THAT’S POSSIBLE!

Last night the flutter of nerves attacked me. I got slightly attached to these people and their work.

I want happiness for them, for their dreams to come true. I also know that it might not be their day. The perfect agent for them may not stop by. For this is the way the wonderful world of writing works.

Everyone out there who writes, who works at bettering their craft, who never gives up… the dream will become a reality.

Requests… or not, all the participants are on their way. This is just a step on a longer path. And if you ever need someone to walk with you on the road, come find me. I love the journey!

So dance! Be happy! One step at a time. One day at a time. One word at a time.

You can do anything.

 

Facing Dark Magic … Failure, Fear

Tags

dreams, failure, fear, hope, thoughts, writing

My worst fear is failure.

The pool, once again, turned green this year. Everything I tried to fix it failed. So I prepare to close the pool, knowing I will have to fight it next year, knowing I failed.

As a kid, Mom called me a perfectionist, a character trait I have fought for years. If I didn’t know I could do something perfectly, I wouldn’t try. I stayed in my comfort zone, never breaking out into the world to see what was out there waiting for me. Naive… sheltered… scared to death… yup, that was me.

In college, I received my first grade lower than a B – C, D, even an F. It devastated me. I had failed. I was failing. I chose to major in art, a subjective area, where grades depend on someone’s opinion. Let me study, memorize, learn formulas and I will soar, but I wanted to tap into the creative energy that lurked in my soul. My chosen major made my mom panic. When I came home with low grades, she freaked out. My dad, who had dabbled in the art world, shrugged and said, “That’s art. Your life depends on what other people think.”

Huh. He shrugged. He accepted it.

Honestly getting those grades, facing failure made me stronger. I hadn’t died. The world hadn’t ended. I learned more from those classes where I struggled than in any others.

So ten years ago, I decided to be a writer, something I knew nothing about.

Would I fail?

Maybe. It was incredibly scary. But I wrote a book, then another, and another… but these aren’t just for me, I want others (people not related to me) to read them.

Would they ever be published?

I don’t know. I still don’t.

But, as scared as I am at getting those rejections, I am more afraid of never trying, of never knowing if it was possible.

Because it is possible. Fear whispers. It holds us down. But it isn’t real. And no one should let that little demon keep them from pursuing a dream.

Dreams are important. They are what make being human special. When my first story was published … oh, seven or so years ago … my sister sent me a card that read, “Dreams come a size too big so we can grow into them.”

As I went out to my failed pool yesterday, ready to cover and forget it, I discovered that my last effort had not failed… the green was settling to the bottom. So a bit of elbow grease to vacuum it out, gives me hope. Just when you think it’s done, over, finished, lying dead at the bottom of the pit of failure, a ray of light shines on the world.

Fear. Failure. They are strong adversaries, dark magic.

Dreaming. Hope. these make powerful allies in the fight to achieve our goals, to walk out into the unknown and create our lives.

My dream is big, but I am growing.

Everything is possible.

The Magic of Wanting

Tags

dreams, failure, magic, pitchwars, thoughts, writing

We all have dreams. Goals. Passions that drive us to get out of bed and, maybe, put on pants. (or not, no one panic)

I recently finished another round of tough revisions for my YA fantasy Doors and I entered pitchwars, an online contest where we writers hope that a mentor picks us to help polish our manuscript to a high shine for agents. In my YA category, there are over 500 entries. So do I stand a chance? I don’t know, probably not. So why do I torture myself by pressing submit? Why do I stalk the Twitter feed looking for clues that my ms has caught someone’s attention?

Because!

Because I have a need, a desire, this terrible burning in my gut… I want to be published SO MUCH – like every other writer out there. I burst out in tears when others share news about getting an agent or their book published. Because I want it to be me…

And I fear it never will be.

What makes my books stand out? I don’t know. Is my writing really any good? I don’t know.

But I keep doing it. I keep writing. I keep entering contests and sending out queries because of a little spark of hope, one that won’t die, one that won’t let me give up and find a real job I can hate forever.

I want to know if I have a chance.

TELL ME PURRRR-LEASE!

Last year my YA fantasy Faerie Wind was failing out there in the land of querying. Last year it had its turn to not be picked for pitchwars. Maybe next year I’ll have another one… my YA magical realism Fate’s Mistake is next on the big revision block.

Yea.

I am lucky to do what I love. I write for me because I have these stories to tell. But I write so that someone else out there can share in the journeys and maybe be affected by my words. And I am privileged to get to read and critique others’ work – seriously love that part. One I get to start soon! Eeeek!

Even though right now I am having a party with my self-doubt, a big mess of a party. Right now I am reaching out on FB and Twitter hoping for words of encouragement. (and I’m getting them, *bows in gratitude*)

Even though no one can ever answer my question of if I have a chance.

I’ll keep going. Because as afraid as I am of failing… I am more afraid of never succeeding.

Fear is not a welcome traveling companion. Fear will never lead you down the right path of life.

The magic of wanting keeps us all going.

 

 

Believing is the Magic

Tags

Believing, deadlines, dreams, Supporting others, thoughts, writing

“Why, Bryndel?” Her ma’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Why should I believe?”

Bryn turned and gazed at her ma. A woman, a person.

“Believing is the magic.”

The final words of my WIP ‘Doors’! Last time I dropped in, I had five chapters left to revise, and I had given myself a deadline, the end of April.

I finished on the first day of May. I missed my deadline … and I’m okay with that! I set the goal to get my butt in the chair and words on the screen. And that’s what I did. Real life came along. Tis the season for baseball and softball practices. My hubs was home looking to actually spend time with me. So I set aside my words for the family. But I went back! I didn’t give up! And I’m going to take myself to a movie to celebrate. The Quiet Ones. I know … that scary stuff again.

Now … I have a page of scribbled notes, thoughts of what I missed or little holes I want to fill. But not today. I am setting the ms aside for a week. I have been submerged in the words for a while and I need a break. “Let the eyebrows grow back” as my fabulous CP Elsie Elmore would say … http://elsieelmore.com/2014/05/02/the-summer-my-eyebrows-grew-back/.

*raises fist in air*

Yea for all of us out there pushing through our fears and frustrations to get where we want to go. We are not alone!

Of course, this means I now face the query and synopsis.

Blah.

I do have a file labeled Doors query and synopsis … so I will not be facing a blank page. Unless I have to delete it and start from scratch, that happens.

Another project lingers in the back of my mind. I want to post a story here *gestures wildly* on my blog. A dream I will work on making come true.

Keep working to find and achieve your dreams. We can all do it, especially when we support each other. All it takes is believing.

What do you believe?

Believe … epilogue

Tags

Believing, dreams, faith, success, thoughts

Yesterday, I wanted all the cookies. I couldn’t stop crying. Fear and self doubt had me in a choke hold.

And today … I imprisoned those monsters back in the dark corners of elsewhere.

Victory is MINE!  *evil laugh*

I submitted my drawing again … all redrawn and stuff. And I have been accepted as an illustrator.

Everyone can breathe again.

All my ranting and worrying about working with technology I didn’t understand … All the awful it’s not good enough moments …

Done. Over. Kaput. So long, sucker.

My dream will come true because I stayed true to me. I worked with my art the way I know how. To find success, I never needed to look anywhere but here, in my own magic-filled head. We all have what we need to make our dreams come true.

If we believe. Which, I mentioned, is the hardest thing to do.

So I continue on my journey to have my art in a book. Eeeeeek! *flails* All thanks to Reuts Publishers and their anthology of twisted fairy tales.

First, I picked my story (yes, the one I had my heart set on was still there, waiting for me). *sigh* I mean zombie elves? Who could say no? Soon I shall set off to read the story and get all the ideas.

Hopefully.

See the fear … it never really goes away. What if I have no good ideas? What if I have a bajillion ideas and can’t execute any of them? What if no one likes what I do (especially the author, cause that would be terrible)?

What if …

What if …

Ah! Take all those doubts, ball them up and throw them into deep hole.

Why? Because I have everything I need to make this dream come true. I can’t promise no panic attacks or fights with self doubt, but I can promise to do my best.

And isn’t that good enough?

Believe

Tags

Believing, Bridge to Terabithia, dreams, illustrating, life struggle, self doubt, writing

“You’ve got to keep your mind wide open, all the possibilities. You’ve got to live with your eyes open, believe in what you see.”
From the soundtrack to ‘The Bridge to Terabithia’

Not only a great movie, but a wonderful book all about one of my favorite words … believing.

Sometimes the hardest thing to do is believe in yourself. I am struggling with this right now. Why? Fear.

Self doubt is rising, threatening to drown me. This is not new. I’ve been here before, haven’t we all?

I have a fabulous chance to do something I’ve always dreamed to do … have one of my drawings in a book, adding to the writer’s wonderful words. This is why I studied art in college!
They would love to use my talent, but my drawings do not translate well. The edges need to be better defined. Do I have experience with Photoshop?

No. Oh good heavens … you want me to experiment with technology?

Luckily, my hubs has the program on his work computer, limiting when I can use it, but it is there. So I stared at the screen and all the little symbols. I read tutorials, but … whut? … is this written in English?

So … I did something. The drawings look different. Am I going to be able to do this? I don’t know. I wait for hubs to get home so we can try again, so I can e-mail something … because I HAVE TO TRY, TO GIVE IT EVERYTHING. I need this.
Since I failed Photoshop, I decided to create more defined edges by adding ink to my drawing. Late last night, I fought back a wave of fear … AM I TOTALLY MESSING UP ONE OF MY FAVORITE DRAWINGS?

Ug.

On top of it editing my WIP is going slower than I thought it would. Believe it or not … this manuscript’s theme is believing. *headdesk*

What I hoped would be fun has turned into a monster with claws. Is the little I figured out on Photoshop enough to make my drawing something they can use? Is this dream going to come true?

I need a box of cookies.

I keep bursting out into tears.

I can’t focus.

I’m trying to keep my mind open … believing is magic. But in this moment, it feels out of reach.
Cross your fingers, kids, as I continue my adventure into the unknown.