RSS

I’m incredibly uncomfortable with the world today.

Posting this again here from my tumblr page.
 
 
Why? Because of the incident with Anita Sarkeesian that drove her out of her home. For those who don’t know what happened, I’ll go into detail.

The latest episode of Tropes vs Women was posted earlier this week and it was widely received positively with women (and some men) who have been talking about this subject. However, there were some people who were incredibly upset. The people I’m talking about are the gate-keeping male dominated trolls who believe that the video game industry is “just fine” and doesn’t need the feminists ruining their fun.

They sent so much hatred to Ms. Skeesian that she had to report it to the police and leave her home in order to feel safe.

It makes me angry and I’ll tell you why.

I am a gamer.

I grew up on video games. My very first memory is my Uncles Matt and Andrew getting extremely upset that I was teething on their Atari joysticks. The year was 1985. I was a year old, ignorant in the ways of Pong, but that joystick controller was perfect to teeth on.

That was just the beginning. It only escalated from there with the first Nintendo system, purchased by my parents for Christmas one year. My mother says that’s what started it all, when she gave in and allowed us Mario, That damn dog from the duck hunt game, and Lolo in to our lives.

What she fails to mention, is that when the Super Nintendo was purchased, even she fell with us; sharing our love of Mario Kart (we wore out two cartridges), B.O.B, Super Ghouls and Ghosts, Earthbound, The Secret of Evermore and my brother’s personal favorite: Chrono Trigger.

Mom wasn’t the only one to fall into the spell of the Super Nintendo. Dad was right there with us, his favorite game being Earthworm Jim. If you knew my father at all, you’d know that the game fits right in with his personality.

Why am I telling you all this? My family is made up of gamers. My mother is a casual now, My father sticks to MMORPGs like World of Warcraft, my brothers are RPGs and First person shooters. I fit in with the whole family. I don’t discriminate one form of game from another: I play them all.

Except for horror. I draw the line at Slenderman. I kind of want to sleep sometime in the future.

I game. I’ve been gaming since the majority of the current generation of bottom feeders were in diapers. While I was playing Earthbound and breaking a fourth copy, they were learning to say the Pledge of Allegiance in first grade.

I am apart of the 48% of women who game and closer to the average age of 31 than I’d like to admit.

I’d love to see a world where female gamers are not attacked on a daily basis with threats of rape and other forms of brutality, just because they kicked ass at Call of Duty and someone resented it so much, that creating an online anonymous twitter handle to spew their hatred seemed reasonable.

That kind of behavior is dangerous. It poisons the community that they claim should be taken seriously. Once a community is poisoned, it’s hard to get anyone to take it seriously ever again. It would be laughable, if I wasn’t so scared.

I’m terrified of speaking when playing Call of Duty. I play under a gender neutral name. Why? Because the second I speak to tell a team member anything, I’m flooded with messages and IMs asking me for nude photos, to sit down and “STFU”, telling me to go back into the kitchen, or that if I headshot them, I’m going to be raped.

That last one is used as a way to control the fear nearly all women have being that venerable and what’s worse? It’s tossed off as a “God don’t get your panties in a twist, I was just kidding” way.

There’s nothing that says joke when it comes to the abuse these sociopath assholes toss off those words. With the screen between them and their intended target, the woman they are spewing their venom-filled “Just kidding bro” mantra at, leaves them with a sense that they’re not hurting anyone because they can’t see that person’s reaction.

Or even worse, they like the reaction they get and relish in the fact that they have heaped an enormous amount of abuse on a woman that reminds them of all the girls they’ve mooned at from afar, or have turned them down.

This is usually when they fall back on their mantras that are so well-worn, it almost seems like a vaudeville act from the 1920s.

“Women don’t play video games!”

Well, you’re wrong. I do.

“Women are only playing them to get guys!”

Hah! No. Sorry. I’m there to blow off steam from my seriously shitty day and becoming a target in your need to prove that your penis size is much lager than a cocktail frank.

“You’re not a real gamer! You just pretend to be one for the attention!”

Pardon me while I laugh in your face. I’m not there for you. I’m there for me and my stress relief. Being a badass bitch takes effort and even I get tired at the end of the day.

While the average male gamer is being exploited for their money, I’m off to the side, pushing through stacks of games using my carefully honed taste, to find that one game that doesn’t make me feel like I’m being exploited for my tits.

I want to see an Assassin’s Creed character that’s fully clothed in that badass armor. Why? Because women are not that hard to animate. If the average male artist can spend hundreds of hours on a single character where the most important feature is that her boobs jiggle just right, they can make me a character with armor that makes sense.

Women like Anita Skeesian give me hope. They’re strong. They won’t let the mass of 4chan devotees defeat her. After all, she wouldn’t be getting this much hate if she was not making her point real and very valid.

There’s another side to the hate that’s being spewed at women (and some men) who share the view-point of Ms. Sarkeesian: The comments section where one can find people placing the blame directly on Ms. Sarkeesian, and not on the people who are issuing the death threats against her.

She has a right to speak out about the type of abuse that her point of view is attracting. She has the right to reasonably claim that she is a victim. Why does she have that right? Because she is a victim.

When commentators on those sections come right out and say that she’s “playing the victim to get more attention” they’re part of the problem.

She’s not playing the victim. She is the victim. There’s a huge difference and because Ms. Sarkeesian is choosing to use what’s happening to her to speak out about the type of abuse that most -if not all- women have experienced just because they dare to play video games.

To accuse her of that, is to accuse us all. To say that we’re responsible for the abuse that’s heaped upon us just because we picked up a controller, is cowardly.

So when I hear about the kind of abuse that she’s getting, the fact that she had to leave her home in order to feel safe – it makes me sad, angry and fearful for the state of the video game community where this kind of abuse is just accepted if you voice your opinion.

It dosen’t mean that I’m going to stop playing video games. It just means that I’m going to get even more selective about what games and systems I support. I’m going to get even more selective about the types of people I let in to my gaming world.

You’re afraid of me? Good. I’m not going anywhere. I have been here since the 80s, I have walked with my siblings through the history of gaming and found that I’m not alone. I have never been alone.

Women are everywhere and we are coming for what’s ours. You can either walk with us, or get out of our way.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on August 28, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , ,

Seize the Day

“So he’s dead then?”

“Yeah,” I said as I looked out the windows of my office.

“Pity, we could have gotten another full-page spread if he’d just snapped and went on a binge instead.”

“Jake?”

“Yes, Lou?”

I turned as I pulled the pins out of my bun.

“I quit.”

“Oh, now don’t be like that. You can’t possibly feel any sort or remorse for his death. It’s not like you engineered his reaction to those photos,” Jake said as he looked at the tweets coming in from people all over, reacting to the man’s death.

I was incredulous as I packed my briefcase and looked around at my office.

“I’ll be back in the morning for the things in my office.”

“No, you’ll be back to work.”

“I’m not coming back to work, Jake,” I said as I closed the top of the bag and picked up it and my purse.

“Your contract-” he started to say before I cut him off.

“Has been in negotiations for months. I haven’t signed the new one yet. I’m free to go as I wish. I’m done with this quasi-journalism you call ‘reporting the news.’ This isn’t news. This is sadness. This is making a dollar off someone else’s demise,” I stopped and took a breath. “I’m sick of it.”

“You’re female, I expected this to happen eventually. Thank god you showed your true colors before I put you in charge,” he said, getting up from where he had been sitting on the corner of my desk.

I laughed. I couldn’t help the noise coming out of my mouth. I was so angry that it was the only reaction I could come up with.

“You’re an asshole, Jake. A true, blue, asshole.”

“So? At least I’m not pretending to have a conscience now that someone’s dead. You didn’t have any feelings when we posted those photos of the princess and her nipple slip,”

“Yes, I did. As a matter of fact, I can show you the tweet that I posted after the photos went live. That’s what kicked off my contact negotiations. I knew you’d been trying to get rid of me for months,”

Jake smiled, but it was cold.

“Finally happened, too.”

I smiled back at him, pulled my phone out and opened up the word file I’d been keeping for months. Jake waited while I selected my photos, then uploaded them one at a time, with the headline “Executive for Daily Celeb caught with pants down” to the main site.

“Check today’s post. I hope you have fun in divorce court,” I said as I walked out the door. He was bending over my computer, when the post loaded. I heard the cursing down the hallway. The reporters in the cubicle farm looked on as I passed by, I waved at the desk clerk as I stepped into the elevator. She smiled and waved back, giving me a thumbs up as I took the lift to the roof. I stepped out just as a helicopter landed on the pad.

“Busy day, Lou,” the pilot shouted as he stepped out to open the back door for me.

“Very busy,” I shouted back as I climbed in.

He nodded and as soon as I settled in and put the headset on, he climbed back into the front and did his pre-check before taking off. As we flew over Chicago, I smiled. Tomorrow was going to be much better.

“So, what happened?” the pilot asked.

“Well Roger, I took down an asshole, lost a hero and quit my job,” I said back with a smile.

“Very busy day,” he said.

“Yes, I would say so.”

“Tomorrow going to be just as busy?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but I’ll take whatever it brings with a smile,” I said.

“Carpe Diem.”

“Yes. Seize the day.”

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on August 11, 2014 in Story Time

 

Blaze Tuesday and the Case of the Night Surgeon Release Party!

 

knight-surgeon-COLOURED-VERSION-218x300

I have a friend who’s currently in the middle of releasing her first book. Her name is Kai Kiriyama and the book is Blaze Tuesday and the Case of the Night Surgeon. I’m really excited for my friend and her accomplishments. I’ve personally read the book and I liked it very much. There’s more information on her website, theraggedyauthor.com and be sure to pop over tomorrow, August 5th, because she’s hosting a release party with giveaways and an interview on her youtube channel. Details are listed below!

Decorative Frame

If you wish to pick up a copy of her brook, the links are as follows:

Paperback (through Createspace): https://www.createspace.com/4903233
I hope you all like it as much as I did!
 
Leave a comment

Posted by on August 4, 2014 in Story Time

 

One, Two, Three.

Walking,

Breathing,

Smelling.

STOP.

Here it comes.

Deep breath,

Hit,

Heat pounding.

Skin crawls,

I want out of my own body.

Mind running,

Racing,

Deep breath.

One,

Two,

Three.

Scream.

Paralyzed.

Deep breath.

One,

Two,

Three.

Eyes closed.

Can’t see,

Don’t want to hear.

Block it out.

Deep breath.

One,

Two,

Three.

Think.

Breathe.

Find the place.

Think trees,

Think water,

Can hear it now.

Feel the warmth,

Smell the flowers,

Just breathe.

One,

Two,

Three.

Open eyes,

Look around,

Hasn’t changed,

Not in danger.

Breathe.

One,

Two,

Three.

Peace.

Quiet.

Serenity in a chair that isn’t there.

Alive.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on June 16, 2014 in Poetry, Writers' Block

 

Tags: , ,

The Dream

A dream is a single gulp of air before you jump off a cliff.

That last sniff of roses before leaving your grandmother’s house the last time.

A quiet,

All consuming thought,

Of near perfect existence that couldn’t possibly exist.

A dream held high and aloft,

Something to be aspired to,

To grasp at when you’re down at your lowest point.

A panic attack on the floor of your bedroom,

A box full of tissues sitting next to you after a break up,

These things cannot touch the dream.

No one can touch it but yourself.

We abuse the dream,

Twisting it until it’s nothing like what we wanted in the first place,

Crying over what it has become,

Cursing at the world for changing it -

But you changed it.

You allowed experiences to change the dream,

Warping it,

Turning it around,

Shattering it.

But you can change it back.

You can take it back.

You can bring it back.

Because the only thing stronger than the dream -

Is the hope that lives inside the dream.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on June 16, 2014 in Poetry, Writers' Block

 

A Night Flight

The breeze she caught lifted her up and had her soaring above the city, feathers feeling every vibration in the air and letting her know when to shift her wings or tail feathers. She rode the wind, owning it and reveling in being alone on wing. As she flew across the city to her meeting place, the woman inside the feathers knew to be careful. While owls were seen in the city, she knew she was a little large for the species she was pretending to be.

Catching a good breeze, the owl flew to the park on the edge of the city. She took her time checking the area out, making mock runs at small rodents that would run when they saw her. Anyone watching would think she was just any other owl, note her large size and move on. Letting out a loud cry, she mocked catching and eating a small field mouse. Looking the area over, she noted a birder in the bushes and actually had to start eating the mouse she caught. The woman inside the owl mourned the loss and gagged on the thought of eating something that wasn’t cooked.

Finishing her meal, she took wing again and flew to another area of the park, performing the same check she had at the previous spot. When she was satisfied that no one was there, she changed forms under a tree. The woman who emerged from the owl’s shape was taller than normal, at five-foot-eight and had short brown hair. Her eyes were a golden-brown and she gave off the vibe that while she was kind and motherly, she would not be toyed with.

The woman shook out the cloth of the deep purple dress she wore and started walking. Her back was ram-rod straight, she held herself like a queen as she made her way out of the park. The noise of nails clicking behind her made her pause for a second, then smiled when a familiar wolf came around the corner.

“Hello, Brother,” She said softly.

The wolf bowed to her, then changed shape into a man. His wolf’s reddish-brown fur became a head of auburn hair. The muzzle of the wolf changed in to a face that while long, held light-green eyes that laughed at some private joke. He shook out the jacket of his dark green suit and looked her over.

“I’m impressed with you, Sister. Only a month and you look as though you’ve belonged with us for a millennium,” he said.

She smiled at him and held out her arms.

“I missed you too, Loki,” she murmured into his ear as he hugged her.

“Not as much as I have,” he replied.

She laughed. It was an old joke, one that had been going on since she was old enough to understand that her playmates were real.

“I do love you, Brother,” she tossed back with a grin and hooked her arm through his. “Let’s go see what the Old Man has for us tonight.”

“Be careful, if he hears that he’s likely to take offense,” Loki warned as they walked along.

“He can take offense as he likes, I only tell the truth. He knew that when he gifted me,” she relied in a clipped tone that let him know she was not pleased with the man that they spoke of.

Loki laughed. “You are one of us. That attitude of yours is hilarious.”

“As long as you find me funny and not one to toy with, I’ll keep myself.”

“I couldn’t toy with you now. You’re too precious to me. The only one who’s consistently on my side.”

“Logically, letting those photos leak of that movie star was a perfect check for his personality. Himself won’t see that, of course. He only knows that we’re not supposed to meddle,” she stopped and looked up at him. “The woman in the photos, however, did not deserve it. You’ll remember that the next time, I hope?”

Loki laughed again when she referred to his latest prank.

“See? You’re my sister, not my bedroom playmate. To toy with you now would be a disservice to the both of us.”

“You still haven’t responded to my question. I’ll let it go for now, but you have to remember that there are some people who don’t deserve to be outed like that. Do better.”

He hunched his shoulders at the chastising. “You always expect too much of me.”

“I expect more because I know you can do more,” she said as she stopped walking and looked up at him. “You can do more and do better. I’m disappointed you let the innocent get caught in that mess.”

When he went to speak, she held up a hand.

“Collateral damage, I know. You could have blurred her face, but chose not to. You made her an example when she didn’t need to be one for loving the wrong man.”

He closed his mouth and looked her over.

“That’s a better chastising than He ever would have given me,” he said with a bow.

“I love you, Loki. You’re family. Even if you are a knuckle head,” she said with a smile and tugged on his arm. “Come on, we’re going to be late and I wish to see my husband.”

They walked along until a giant bear came ambling toward them. They stopped again and waited, neither one of them raising much alarm at the sight of the huge creature. She smiled up at Loki when the bear changed shape in to a man of powerful height, topping over six-two with a bright head of red hair. A beard was under laughing blue eyes and when he held out his arms to her, she laughed and ran in to them.

“Hermod! I thought you weren’t coming?” She said as he enveloped her in a huge hug.

“Miss the chance to see my new favorite sister? Never,” he said. “How are you, Nor?”

She smiled up at him. “Much better. How are the kids?”

He laughed and regaled her with tales of his children as the finished the walk to the meeting. They stood outside the 1800’s manse, whose red brick was covered in ivy. The marble statuary that covered the building laughed down at her as she studied the shape. She snorted with disgust.

“Not much for subtlety, is he?”

Both men laughed so hard they bent over.

“I’m so glad you said it and not me,” Loki said when he got his breath back.

“Truth, honesty and clear-thinking. That’s our Nor,” Hermod said as he clapped a hand on her shoulder.

She smiled up at both men. It didn’t matter if she wore heels or not, they still towered over her.

“I can’t imagine what you’d do without me to make your lives interesting. I imagine you’d still be lying to each other,” she mused.

Both men shrugged. It was true she forced them to talk things over and clear the air. They were better friends now than they’d ever been.

“So, the All-father sent the two of you to escort me. It makes me think that he doesn’t trust me to be alone,” she said as she made her way across the street and up to the house.

The men followed behind her silently.

“He has his reasons,” Hermod said.

“Most of which are bullshit,” she replied over her shoulder as she opened the door and walked in.

A servant met them and took them to the living room, which was already crowded with family of every shape and size. There was only one that mattered though, and he was standing off to the side, brooding in to his glass.

“Ah, young love,” Loki said as he caught on to who she was staring at.

Elbowing Loki in the stomach and leaving him there, Hermod laughing at him, and she headed for the dark-haired man in the corner with the deep blue eyes. She loved those eyes. She could get lost in them for hours as they lay in their rooms at home. When he looked up, she smiled brightly. He lost his brooding air and set his glass down before coming to her.

He cupped her face and looked down in to her eyes as she looked up at him. When he bent to kiss her, she smiled and closed her eyes, leaning in to him as they came together.

“You go away all together too often for me,” he said softly.

“I was only gone two days to visit my mother,” she replied as she kissed him again.

“Too long and too often.”

“Five minutes is too long for you,” she replied.

He laughed. “I’m not that bad,”

She raised an eye brown and opened an eye to look at him. He had the sense to look embarrassed.

“Okay, I am that bad.”

She laughed softly and tugged him down. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d be worried you’d be one of those men I hear on the news while I’m in Midguard.”

“Never, you’re too precious to me,” He said as he scooped her up. She laughed as he dumped them both in to a recliner.

There were smiles from the family scattered around the room who saw them together in the chair. Nods of approval when she caught their eye. It felt good to be wanted by not only family, but a man who loved her unconditionally. When he ran his hand through her short brown hair, she smiled up at him. Leaning in, she nuzzled his ear.

“I have something I need to tell you.”

“Can it wait?”

“No.”

“Do we need to go into another room?”

“If we do, we’ll be lynched,” she replied. “but you have to promise not to say anything just yet. If he drops bad news on us tonight, we’ll need the pick me up after.”

He tucked her in closer and kissed her temple.

“You’re pregnant,” he murmured.

“Yes. Twins.”

He laughed and kissed her hard. Heads turned to them, gave a puzzled look and then turned away. Before questions could be asked, two people walked in and the room fell silent. Nor looked over and nodded to the woman when she caught her eye. The woman with the golden hair smiled at her and winked.

“Frigga and I want you all to know how happy we are to have you here to celebrate the wedding of Tyr and Nor several months ago, as well as her ascension,” the Old Man said to the crowd.

There was a round of applause and congratulations.

“We also would like to announce their impending pregnancy,” he said.

Nor jerked in Tyr’s arms and he laughed. A louder round of applause and whooping followed. As they filed over to give their congratulations, there were several crude jokes from the men and soft praises from the women. Nor looked up at Tyr and smiled down at her. They eventually dispersed as Odin and Frigga came over. Frigga held out her hands and Nor gripped them tight.

“I’m so happy for you, darling. Do you know what it is?”

“Twins,” she replied.

Frigga smiled back at her. “Even better.”

“Good job, young lady,” Odin said.

Nor stiffened at the tone of voice he used and her smile was tense.

“Thank you, All-Father.”

His attention went back to Tyr and she relaxed a little against him. Tyr looked down at her and smiled, running his hand over her back.

“My friend, good job as well. I’m sure they’ll be sons,” Odin said.

“I’ll be happy with whatever they are, Odin. You know that,” he said, standing up for her and the babies she carried.

“I’m just glad she kept her vows and they’re not His,” Odin replied.

Nor’s eyes narrowed at the man in front of her and she opened her mouth to speak, but Tyr’s hand on her back went to her shoulder and gripped it tight. Before Tyr could speak, Loki stepped up and stood next to her.

“Be very careful with what you say about my Sister. I’m very protective of her,” Loki said softly. There was enough edge in his voice to have Odin’s eyebrows raising in surprise.

“I meant no offense,”

“I’m taking it,” she said.

Odin looked down at her, even more surprised that she spoke.

“I’m tired of constantly being suspected of infidelity because I claim Loki as my brother. I’m taking the offense, on his and my behalf. I’ve kept my vows. On the day I took them, he vowed to me that he would be a brother to me,” the edge in her voice had Odin stepping back and Frigga smiling brightly at her.

She felt Loki put his arm around her and Volstagg dropped a hand on to her other shoulder.

“I built a family here, All-Father. I’m not likely to let go of that so easily by breaking a vow I took and still take very seriously,” she said. She stepped out of the embrace of her family. “If you’ll excuse me, I wish to lay down. The air in here has become very foul and I’m likely to swoon.”

She stepped away from the group and made her way out of the room in silence. A servant appeared as she made her way down the hall to the front door and redirected her to a bedroom where she could lay down. As she stepped in to the room, Loki was already there.

“Of all the people, I think you would know better than to claim offense.”

“He deserved it. I’m tired of the suspicion. I expect you are too,” she said as she made her way over to him and turned. “Zipper, please.”

Loki unzipped the back of her dress and she stepped in to the closet. Five minutes of cursing and fumbling later, she stepped out again, dressed in pajamas. Loki raised an eyebrow at her.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t feeling well, I just used it as an excuse to slap at him,” she said as she sank down on to the sofa that was pushed against one wall.

A knock on the door stopped Loki from saying anything else.

“Come in,” Nor said.

Frigga stepped into the room. She looked it and them over and looked surprised.

“Well, certainly not the scene I wanted to walk in on. The two of you look as though you’re going to bed together,” she stopped them before they could retort. “I said looked. I know the nature of your relationship.”

Nor settled in to the sofa and Loki scooped up a blanket, dropping it on to her lap.

“Before you catch a chill and Tyr yells at me for it,” he said when she raised an eye brow.

Laughing, Nor spread the blanket over her legs. Frigga watched them both.

“I’m glad to see you’re both acting like this. I would actually think you meant what you said about taking offense.”

“Oh, I meant it. I’ll place formal charges in the morning. Tonight, I’m just too tired. Carrying twins will do that to a person.”

Frigga shook her head and sighed. “Reconsider in the morning, Nor. Enough people saw what happened tonight for you to be satisfied. I’m sure they’ll congratulate you for standing up to him.”

“I meant what I said, Frigga. I’m tired of the suspicion. The babies I carry are Tyr’s. He’s the only man I’ve been with since taking my vows.”

“I know that, Nor. The slap he gave you tonight was not entirely yours. It was to Tyr as well, who’s currently torn between fuming at Odin for being an ass and proud of you for not taking it.”

Nor laughed. “He was pretty angry, wasn’t he? I’m sure he’ll do something about it in the morning.”

Frigga’s smile was thin. “You’re young yet. You don’t realize how precarious your position is,”

Nor went silent and looked at her. “I’m acutely aware of just how thin the spot I’m in is. If I take formal charges, there’s a chance that I could lose everything. If I let it go, he’s likely to do it again. Next time, it might even be worse. Loki can’t level the charges because it was the truth, even though it was a slap to the face.”

Frigga nodded and Nor continued.

“Tyr could level the charges, but since he was the wronged party the last time; He’d look petty. Odin knew exactly what he was going when he insulted me tonight. He didn’t expect me to slap back. That was his mistake. I am no one’s play toy.”

Frigga looked her over, Loki standing at her side.

“I think you’re exactly what was needed within this family. Someone who knows her position, uses it and always tells the truth. They don’t know what to do with you,” she said.

Loki snorted and Frigga looked at him.

“They expect lies. When they get someone who tells only the truth, they don’t know what to do with her. It’s why I hang around.”

“and here I thought it was my charming personality,” Nor said wryly.

Loki laughed. “That too,”

Frigga smiled at them both.

“Loki’s charmed because you don’t hold back. He’s protective because you call him brother and mean it. You treat him like you would your own blood kin.”

“He is my brother. He’s accepted for who he is, even if I do think he’s a bonehead sometimes.”

Loki laughed and kissed her hair. “I’m going to get your husband. I’ll be back.”

Nor watched him leave with a smile on her face. When the door closed behind him, she looked at Frigga.

“He’s embarrassed and near tears that he doesn’t want anyone to see,” she murmured.

“Accepted. He’s so full of love for you. Almost as much as his own wife.”

“He’s family, Frigga. Just as you and the rest are. I claimed you all the minute Tyr brought me inside your circle. I love you all. Even Himself, though he can’t see it.”

Frigga came over and kissed her forehead. “I love you too, little one. I’ll leave before Tyr gets here. I know the two of you will want to celebrate.”

Nor smiled up at her. “Thank you.”

Frigga smiled and left, just as Tyr went to open the door. He was a little surprised at finding her there.

“I’m just leaving, I needed a word with my new sister about tonight’s events.”

Tyr shook his head. “I’ve already taken care of it. Go back to the party little sister, I’m for my wife.”

Frigga patted his arm and left. Tyr came in and closed the door behind himself. He walked over to Nor and sank down beside her.

“Just where Loki said he left you,” Tyr said as Nor moved over so she was curled into his arms. “I would ask though, that you not ask him to do your zippers.”

Nor smiled and nuzzled his neck. “You should have seen the look of horror on his face when I asked. It was priceless.”

Tyr laughed. “No wonder the two of you get along so well. You’re constantly pulling crap on each other.”

“Well, he is fun to do that with. You’re more fun though.”

“How am I more fun?”

“Come to bed with me and I’ll show you.”

“Now that’s an invitation that I’ll never refuse,” he said as he stood up with her in his arms and strode over to the bed.

Nor waved a hand and turned out the lights as Tyr undressed. He climbed in to bed and pulled her close, neither one getting much sleep at all.

 
2 Comments

Posted by on June 15, 2014 in Story Time

 

Tags: , , , , , , ,

Blog Hop: The Writing Process

I’ve been dragged kicking and screaming into writing this and I’m not entirely sure I’m even qualified to talk about writing much less give writing advice, but here I am.

I got tagged by MixedUpPainter and Murphy. They’re the ones that keep pestering me to do this. Apparently I write good things.

 

Blog Hop Rules:  
Answer the four questions below, link back to the person who invited you, and link to the people who will be posting the following Monday.

 

1. What am I working on?

 

This is a tough question for me because I’ve got so many rods in the fire that I’m struggling with the balance. Here’s what I’m currently working on:

Marlowe in Blue:

I’m really working hard to start writing more posts for this one, not only because I love the world I created with Marlowe and Blueville, but because I left all my characters in some very interesting situations. Writing for Marlowe is especially a challenge because its first person as it’s happening to Marlowe.

Hunting with Grace:

Grace is currently in progress. I’m working on a time line for her. I have so many characters that I’m bringing in to her world and I’ve yet to figure out who’s really pulling all the shenanigans. This one started out as a “What song can I use in a short” kind of dare that just exploded from there.

Unnamed Novel:

Yeah, I’m keeping this one to myself. It is however, another “let’s see what this will do if I do this and this” to a character.

 

2. How does my work differ from others of its genre?

 

I don’t think I have a genre. If I were, I’d have to say Urban Paranormal. In which case I differ because all of my characters have real lives while they’re trying to deal with whatever crap I throw at them. In some cases it means going to work while someone is trying to kill you, because hey, you’ve got to eat if you’re going to live.

I also try to follow the Joss Wheadon school of writing: Go dark, go sad but for fuck’s sake, tell a joke.

I’m really good at it, according to Murphy.

 

3. Why do I write what I write?

 

I’m really sick of heroines that don’t have lives of their own. The problem comes up and all of a sudden, it’s all they can think about. Really? Who does that in real life? Sure, people think about it, but they still have to go to work anyway.

I’m also pissed that heroines give up everything for a man. Any man. My heroines? Well they’ve got the man, but now they’re focused on the kind of grown up problems that come with having the man and a sorceress that just loves fucking with their lifestyle. Children? Yep, I have them too because guess what? Real life doesn’t mean ignoring the kids either. I’ve found that including them means I have a much more expansive and real world that gives a lot of danger to it when someone’s life is threatened.

 

4. How does your writing process work?

 

I have this bag. I love the bag. Into the bag I’ve tossed every single idea I’ve ever had. It all gets written down on a card and folded over, then tossed in to the bag. Whenever I’m short for an idea, I reach in to the bag, grab a couple, and try to figure out how to put them into a story.

There are photos, one line sentences, entire paragraphs, and even just lists of crap that can be found in an adventurer’s bag.

Where do I find these ideas? I keep a stack of note cards with me where ever I go. When I see something or hear something that’s funny, I write it down, stuff it in to my pocket or purse, then into the bag it goes when I get home.

I’m part pantser, part planner.

Once I get an idea from my pants, I start writing. Then I plan. Especially if I have a good enough idea that’s kept me interested and made me want to see it through to the end.

Then there’s the music. I’ll grab anything. Hard rock, classical, movie sound tracks, string metal – As long as it fits what I’m writing, I’ll listen to it. Marlowe’s soundtrack is a little all over the place, considering where her life is right now, I’m not really surprised. Grace has been all classic rock from the 60s, 70s and 80s.

All of that goes in to the writing process which also includes walking around my bedroom and muttering lines until I get the right ones worked out. If a scene is giving me trouble, you can bet I’m walking and saying lines. I probably should have been an actor, but I’m shy and suffer from stage fright badly.

 

I guess that’s it. I’m sure I’m forgetting something, but if you have any questions you can drop me a line at marloweinblueville@gmail.com

 

Thanks to Jess and Murphy for tagging me.

 

I’m now tagging Raggedy Author, who can be found here and here.

I’m also tagging Sushimustwrite. She can be found here and here.

 
2 Comments

Posted by on April 14, 2014 in Uncategorized

 
 
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 630 other followers