What I'm Up To....

Hello fine peoples. I've been busy...breathing and such. I just wanted to pop onto the blog and say... I really missed blogging. Sure it can get time consuming and I don't always get comments but its, what's the word - cathartic. 

I've been pretty much away from the writing world altogether while I get my stuff together. Again. Well, away from everything but writing. I couldn't stop writing for two years. I haven't tried to not breathe but it's been scientifically proven to kill you after a short amount of time. Same with me and writing. 

I'm writing this while most of the world is probably watching The Oscars. Meh. Didn't feel much for watching it this year. I've got writing and editing and agents to contact. Oh yeah. Agents. I've decided I can't self-publish. Or at least it will be a last resort if I don't get picked up by an agent. 

Right now, it's the right thing for me and I've got to be true to what I feel is right. Dang, that's a lot of rights. What am I planning to shop around? Mass Hysteria: A young adult science fiction novel. I'm super excited about this! Here's a teaser of the first 320 words: 


I time my laugh to spill perfectly from my lips. 

Except, the sensation rises from my abdomen like gravel tumbling through my mouth. Stacy turns in her seat with her lips pursed tight. She shakes her head. The other girls stop giggling. Their purrs of laughter in deep contrast to my piercing cackle. 

They frown in unison - everyone but Stacey. She has an ‘I’m sorry I got you into this mess, Hun’ look on her face. Though lacking in most social skills, I’m easily able to read their expressions: ‘What the hell was Stacey thinking bringing the schizoid?’

I’m painfully aware something is off with me. On a scale of weirdness, I’m not Pinhead. I’m more Carrie, without the powers. I’d change this perception of oddness I convey, but I don’t know where to begin to work on myself. 

So I don’t. 

Glancing around the table, I attempt a quick recovery. “I have a dog, too. He’s the cutest little Pomeranian.” 

My words are met with oohs and awws but Stacey shakes her head once, slightly. I don’t know why she does it. I’ve hit a cord with these girls. I block her shaking head and the bombardment of senseless information streaming through my mind and continue talking. “He’s a handsome little fur ball.”

“I love dogs,” One of Stacey’s friends says.. “My Jax is too freaking cute.” 

 “My little FeFe is too adorbs. What’s your dog’s name, Elizabeth?” Melissa, the closes girl to me asks. 

“Norman Bates. He’s a  -” 

“You named your dog Norman Bates,” Melissa says. 

“Yes. He -” 

“Like, isn’t that the crazy dude from that movie? The one who cross dressed like his mom and like killed everyone?” someone else asks. 

“Yes, it’s - ”

“It’s kinda weird…Well, a lot weird that you named your dog after a homicidal maniac.” Melissa says. No one speaks after her comment. They all stare in opposite directions. 

I almost laugh at their reaction but stop myself. A rush of useless information hurries through my head: the song streaming over the speaker in the restaurant is by Colbie Caillat; approximately twenty-five people have walked into the restaurant since we arrived; More women than man eat here; our waitress has a build-up of dandruff she tries to cover with a bad hair dye...

 I shake my head discretely. They act like I told them I’m naming my first born Freddie Kruger.  

What have you been up to? Any exciting news?