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Rated: 18+ · Book · Personal · #1522819
My life is a roller coaster ride, but there's beauty in the madness.
Ink in Faded Hues

My aspirations, triumphs, and failures. Life is a beautiful mess!

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~All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, to make it possible.~
T.E. Lawrence

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This is me, for those of you who wondered! *Rolleyes*
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July 6, 2010 at 10:53am
July 6, 2010 at 10:53am
It's been a while since I posted a blog entry, but life offline has been quite busy. So, without further ado, I present
A MidSummer Night's Scream  [13+]
Round closed ~ Winners Announced!
by Adriana Noir
for its third year of running! I've had some great successes and entries with this in the past, and I really look forward to seeing where this year leads.

~Best wishes and happy writing!~
Adriana *Moon*
June 30, 2010 at 10:40am
June 30, 2010 at 10:40am
I need more time--more hours in the day, something! Yesterday, I managed to do some editing and write about a paragraph when all was said and done. Everytime I turned around, someone was tugging at my sleeve or texting me for something.

Today will not fair any better. I have errands to run before darting back here to get ready for a conference with the guardian appointed to my brother's custody case. Lawyers and stuff . . . fun, fun!

Once I finish up there, I'll hopefully have time to grab a quick bite to eat, and then it's off to the Indian's game tonight! Field box seats, baby, right behind home plate. Right behind Marson. Please, oh, please let him be catching tonight! *Smirk*

I'm really excited (at least about the game, though I have the feeling Lee Lee and I will talk and do stupid stuff through most of it.) But on the other hand, I just started rolling forward with my writing again, and thanks to my USB key, have lost everything that was not posted here. When it comes down to it, what I really want to do is write!

Why must everything be such a double-edged sword?

Ahh, the conflict!

~Best wishes and happy writing!~
Adriana *Moon*
June 29, 2010 at 11:47am
June 29, 2010 at 11:47am
I shared six years of my life with you. The good, the bad, the ugly, and everything in between. I shared things with you that I dare not speak to anyone else. Every heartache, every dream, every story I had to tell were all yours for the taking. My love, joy, and sorrow, I expressed to you when I was not brave enough to share it with anyone else. To you, and you alone, I gave all I had . . . and I trusted you to keep these things safe.

Oh how you failed me. *Cry*

Six years, gone. You stripped me of some of my best, robbed me of all trust, and left me insecure--unable to trust in any others as I did you.

I said I wanted a fresh start. That did not mean I wanted you to leave me barren and desolate, scarred and traumatized. You took it all.

Stupid, stupid USB key.

I hope your death was an agonizing one, for that is the only comfort I shall find in all of this.

May your casings rot as you rest in many pieces.
June 28, 2010 at 11:41am
June 28, 2010 at 11:41am
"Do or do not. There is no try." ~ Yoda

I came across this little nugget of wisdom last night while thumbing through a writing exercise book. It's short and simple, yet it speaks volumes, especially to those of us inclined toward making excuses. *Rolleyes*

There comes a time when it's simply not enough to keep talking the talk. This can apply to every aspect of our lives. But, this being a site dedicated to writers . . . I think you get the point.

It's easy to fall into slumps. Easier still to let fear and doubt grab hold and strangle the creativity from our bones. We obsess; we agonize. Day after day, we watch our dreams slip further away. Why? Because sometimes it's easier than chasing after them. Writing is work. Like a relationship, it requires time and attention on a consistent basis in order to flourish. Anyone who tells you differently has never walked a mile in an author's shoes.

I let mine die. Last night after hours (months really) of beating my head against the wall, I decided the time for wallowing was over. There is no sense mourning all of the time wasted, or lamenting all the things that were and were not. The past is exactly that, and there it shall remain. Every victory, every defeat, no matter how big or small mean nothing in the future. I cannot change what was, only what will be.

Truth be told, I need to shake the rust and reclaim my former glory. The fires of creativity and passion must be stoked once again if I am to survive this cold and dreadful winter I imposed upon myself. So, with that in mind, I set a goal. I will write at least one short story a week based on random prompts. I know not where they will end up, or what will come of them, but it gives me a starting point. I will be writing again. Perhaps they can be polished and used later, but for now, they will see me back to the path I so desperately seek.

I will not try . . . I will do.

~Best wishes and happy writing!~
Adriana *Moon*
June 27, 2010 at 12:11pm
June 27, 2010 at 12:11pm
These are questions that never get any easier with time. Not even when I pose them to myself.

In my day-to-day conversations with people, the same question inevitably pops up whenever it's mentioned that I'm a writer. "Oh! What do you write?"

*Worry* See, for most of you, the answer is probably simple and well-defined. "I'm a horror writer." Or, "Fantasy." Perhaps even "Erotica." would suffice. Mystery, action, romance, the list goes on, but, here, I flounder. My mind scrambles over the items in my port, provoking some sort of inward grimace and groan. There are equal parts emotional drama, horror, poetry, and even a smattering of romance and erotica thrown into the fray. I find myself embarrassed and lowering my head. Toes dig at the earth or concrete, in an awkward attempt to burrow. My response?

"Fiction . . . short stories mostly." If I'm feeling particularly ambitious, I might add, "I have a novel I'm working on, but it's not finished."

I usually walk away feeling like a heel. Why is it so important to belong somewhere? To be able to define myself with a simple label? I'm not sure, but it is. Yet, on the same hand, the mere thought of it scares me to death.

This is a question posed to authors time and time again. We do it here, on WDC, when deciding a genre. It's posed silently, when we decide where to submit our work based on the submissions they seek. It's decided when books are placed on shelves . . . when readers seek something to read. The list goes on . . .

I have no clear-cut role, no defining answers to give. The thought of breaking through with some novel and being forced to write the same genre for the rest of my natural life terrifies me. I don't want to be put in a box and confined, forced to live my life under restrictions and confines. I'm a gemini; we like to dip our toes in many waters and savor life to the fullest. Yet, beneath all that fear and resistance, I ache to belong somewhere, to have some sense of who I am and where I belong.

Complex, yes, and perhaps a bit insane. I know, deep down, this is the same fear that cripples me and stays me from completion. It's why I linger in the realm of short stories, only daring to inch one toe out the door.

If I'm to be honest, the answers seem simple enough. I'll never have a cheerful and sunshiny muse, no matter how much I try to force that into fruitation. Romance will never be my forte. My writer's heart and soul are dark. Even my name eludes to such proclivities. Comedy, unless it is dark and twisted, convuluted to the point that only the warped would appreciate it's beauty and humor, will never be my calling. Mystery has far too many rules and restrictions for my liking. Erotica . . . *snorts* well, while I can write a mean scene, I'm afriad even there the darkness threatens to bleed through.

I'm too grounded for fantasy, too restless for mere action and adventure. Westerns bore me, and I'm not fond of most sci-fi unless its rooted in horror.

Dark drama - - - horror. The scales tip and I find myself falling helplessly into the unknown.

I'm afriad if I don't find myself, I will never meet my calling.

And so, the question is posed yet again . . . "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

June 25, 2010 at 2:33pm
June 25, 2010 at 2:33pm
There's an old saying many of you might have heard: "No pain, no gain." I've come to the conclusion that this is especially true for writers.

NaNoWriMo was such a beautiful experience. Never have I written so much in a single month, let alone with such fluid ease. I once again discovered the sheer joy that is writing, and raced with eager delight to the computer each day. I vowed I would not lose that feeling, or that drive again. Yet, when November ended, I felt drained. Holiday stress crept in, and I found myself in dire need of a break. Since the house and pets must eat and be tended to, I figured writing should probably be the thing to go . . . for the time being.

The problem with that, is aside from a few poems, newsletters, and perhaps a chapter or two, I've been in a major slump. Never have I experienced a dry spell this long and painful. It's a full-blown drought. *Frown*

I've made excuses a-plenty, ranging from seasons, to birthdays, to illness and injury, to whatever holiday looms ahead, no matter how far the distance. I've blamed stress, my family, the weather, lunar tides, and even the universe in general, as long as it kept me from having to accept the ugly truth: I am the only one to blame.

Fact: Last year brought a dream of mine into fruitation. I was published. Though I still aspire for bigger and better things in this arena, I've allowed such a monumental feat to turn me into something vile . . . complacent.

Complacency is the world's number one killer and perhaps the greatest evil known to mankind. Indifference leads to inaction.

It's been nearly seven months since NaNo. My port remains gaunt, nearly starved in hunger. So does my creative soul. I realize now, I cannot wait for others. Though I may not walk alone in spirit, it is my own two feet which drive me forward. I cannot rely on others to hold my hand or serve as motivation. (Though believe me, I need and seek those of you who do, just as the desert craves the rain.) In the end, I'm accountable only to myself, as we all are. Though there are many who play a part in our successes, we are the only ones to blame for our failures.

You cannot win without trying.

I felt proud when I slipped off to bed last night. I pounded out almost a thousand words, which I had thought in my tired and delusional state, to be fairly good. Sleep and a fresh point of view revealed I was sadly mistaken. It will take a lot of hard work to find my way back to the twisted and beaten path I once tread, for I'm sure it's now overgrown with briars and thick branbles that will hinder me every step of the way . . . but this is my road and a journey I must take.

There will be much pain along the way---but in the end, I'm sure the efforts will be well worth it.
~Best wishes and happy writing!~
Adriana *Moon*
June 24, 2010 at 12:24pm
June 24, 2010 at 12:24pm
Yesterday was a really strange day. I went out to Portage Lakes for a little bit, hoping to relax in the sand and find some inspiration. I had just come in from the water and laid back down on the blanket when I felt the ground shifting under me. I glanced up and around, trying to see if anyone had just thundered past, only to find no one around. When I laid back down, I felt it again, but it was moving side to side, as if the Earth was shaking back and forth. Strange.

I asked Alethea about it and she said she didn't feel anything. I told her what it felt like, it not being the normal up and down thumps you feel when someone runs past. We waited for a few minutes, but I didn't feel it again.

Last night, she comes over and tells me there was an earthquake in Canada and Michigan at the same time I told her I felt the ground moving. I still can't believe I felt that.

Then last night, I was making a family dinner. She was in the kitchen with me, helping out, when out of no where, a streak of light came through the livingroom into the kitchen and right through the foot between us to go out the window. Wide-eyed I stared at her and no sooner did she ask, "Did you see tha---" and my entire house shook...and I mean SHOOK, for a good thirty seconds. The rumbling and thunder was deafening. I'm pretty sure it struck right outside the house, if not the foundation.

She of course looks up, as if to Heaven, and says, "We're sorry!" *Laugh* Really, though, it was far too close for comfort.

The bruise on my right leg is starting to fade, and inside is a very distinct cross formation where my skin is starting to return to its normal hue. *Worry* I'm really starting to wonder if I'm not like marked for death or something.

At any rate, I know it's been talked about since the beginning of time...heck, even just in the past ten years, I can remember 3 instances where "the world was going to end." 1999, Y2K...whatever the last one was....but with everything going on....and after watching 2012....I'm REALLY starting to wonder if maybe there isn't just a tiny glimmer of merit in this one.

Massive earthquakes all over the place with frightening frequency. The Earth's plates are definitely shifting, my friends.

Don't even get me started on the mass quantities of oil pumping into the ocean everyday and how that will impact our ecosystem.

"And the Bottomless Pit shall be opened in the ocean." BP

Heh...yeah....things that make you go hmmm.

On a more cheerful note, I am writing something at the moment that is neither blog nor newsletter. *Thumbsup* Not to jinx myself, but it does feel good to have a twinge of creativity back, no matter how small or rusted! Let's just hope I can keep it up!

~Best wishes always!~ *Heart*
June 23, 2010 at 10:16am
June 23, 2010 at 10:16am
Silence, especially on the creative front, is lethal. For too long, I have waited to hear the sweet, sultry voice of my muse whisper in my ear. I've longed to have him bait me with words and reveal stories of yesteryear. I grow restless and impatient. Each passing hour seems an eternity wasted.

This is true writer's agony: to be stripped of your passions and laid barren among jagged rocks and shattered visions.

I think, if he will not come to me . . . I shall delve deeper into the shadows. I am sure inspiration still exists. There, in a glistening cocoon of silence, it waits. Like me, it merely sleeps, waiting to be found.

~Best wishes always~
May 17, 2010 at 1:36pm
May 17, 2010 at 1:36pm
Well, it's Monday. I'm probably one of the few people in the world that actually looks forward to the start of the work week, but then again, I never claimed to fit in with the masses. *Laugh* Today does find me dragging though. Saturday, I was out late attending a fundraiser for the Perry Baseball and Softball Association. I didn't win the reverse raffle or any of the packages I bought tickets for, but I did win a car wash basket. *snorts* Better than nothing though!

On the creative front, I have a horror NL to wrap up, and "Compassion" is once again rolling forward. Friday, I finished up Chapter 8 and got a good head start on Chapter 9. All this after spending days wondering why they were headed to the interrogation block again. Really, if you have a habit of walking away from work for a while to take a breather (and it's physically necessary with this tale) it's a GOOD idea to make notes of intent. You know, a little note that says "In case you don't come back tomorrow, THIS is what you were planning."

Come to think of it, that's probably why most people make outlines. *Blush* I never could handle writing that way. My muses dictate the story, I just write it as I see it. Whoever said writers have creative control over their stories obviously never had muses like mine!

My goal is to have the book finished by the end of September. It's attainable and only puts me at roughly 4k words a week. If I could do NaNo, I could do this no problem, as long as I stay focused. I'm going to have to if I want to NaNo this year.

I hope you all had a great weekend and the Monday blahs stay far away.
~Best wishes and happy writing~! *Heart*

May 6, 2010 at 5:02pm
May 6, 2010 at 5:02pm
It's been a bad week. A very, very bad week both creative and personal wise. That's really all I'm going to say. I'm just so tired. So very, very tired.

115 Entries · *Magnify*
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