Smoothing the edges. Filing the corners.

Many, many times, I will come up with an idea for a book and then need to backfill to the tune I'm G'ing "Augmented Reality" because I needed the specs to explain a situation. Vague, yes. It's for my erotic romance book. Immersion level, hardware, and environment. Plus, I needed a few additional items. For, perhaps, a paragraph of dialogue. 

And this morning, as my mind decides to whir around a bit:

In an older post, I couldn't remember the name of the app where you could control two Twitter accounts at once. That's TweetDeck, folks. Courtesy of my shit finally kicking in this morning.

Also, I don't think I can smooth out the edges of my erotic romance to my satisfaction. Translation: I'll have to introduce "alternate means".

sigh

I love it when the premise fits my other information, and we rock on with our bad self. When, as is sometimes the case, it does not jibe, I need to bring in the circular saw, sandpaper, and the patience God never gave me.

It may mean I change the trope. Or, perhaps the genre or subgenre. Add a character or two. 

Stories are malleable. Don't get locked up in your head that it has to be a certain way. Books are living documents until you publish. And, EVEN THEN, they may be torqued.

In the case of my erotic romance, I'm looking at changing the genre from Contemporary to Paranormal. 

Do I like it?

Ehhhh...not sure yet. I don't want it to change the dynamic between the two main characters. I'll ponder this over the next few days.

In other other news, if you're in the Midwest, batten down your fucking hatches. Shit is rallying again today. 

Then again, Oz doesn't sound so bad right now.

I love the OKC Thunder

Our boys are amazing. The team's leadership and tutelage second to none. Brilliant staff and roster.

Having said that, my creativity is like hey! HEYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!

Let's make a rap.

Yeah.

Not a "wrap". Think Dre and Eminem. RAP

Did I?

Fuck yes, I did.

My fifty-four year old ass has got the flow, people. 

bahahahahahaha

anyway...ahem

Here it be.

This links to my personal FB. 

Chrys' OKC Thunder rap

I've put this post to public.

Ah...sweet relief. 

Now...back to The Gordons.

Why, yes. I'm on the G searches

Thought it would mostly be a writing day. ALAS, my short ass has to rewrite a minor character. This minor character has beef with my Gordon sisters. So kiss my short butt. I've found another deity to fit, but now I'm wondering if I want to make this new deity the owner and leave the other character? Either way, this new deity is too big for my story. Will probably be mentioned in passing. I'll have to research another minor deity. Or make one up, at this point. *shrug*

Also, it's damn early. And these are my G searches thus far:

black gloves with button

EngelMuller snap

black iron

what's a good metal snap?

Then I went DOWN a deity hole about four layers deep. Had to get the jaws of life to pry me out.

whew

Almost forgot!

I use OneNote, as I've stated. And I LOVE the tabs and whatnot. Except, you know, when I have like sixty and can't remember where I put shit. I've got them descending alphabetically because that's at least in some semblance of an order. 

But I've found that I like to put the deity name, the pronunciation, and occupation. Except sometimes, ya girl likes to put the occupation or place first.

Yeah. I can't stand myself.

Thanks for asking.

FUCKING HELL. 

Just published this. Went back to my OneNote. I put two tabs in "The Morrigan" notebook instead of "The Gordons"!

*kicks everything*

20,000+ words, baby!

Yep. It's me. Giving a small update on my book 4, The Gordons, in my mythological retelling series. 

Getting good.

Hope to squeeze about 3,000 more words today. More this weekend. *fingers crossed*

Interesting G searches thus far:

Kunafa

Tres Leches

Red eye color

Eir pronounciation

Doctor gown

What is the origin of Om Ali?

What are those damn things at the end of the staircase?

Chili rellenos

Woot! And we march on...

When I don't write

Tuesdays are a write-off. ha

I have Spravato that morning, and I'm cooked the rest of that day and sometimes into the next. Wipes me out.

But I've noticed that when I don't at least have the opportunity to write, my brain fills it in.

Example, I'll think of older books I need to revise and publish. I'll think of books I started but did not finish for...reasons.

Then I become the twitchy ball of fun we all know and tolerate.

Story ideas are literally everywhere. I like to tell the story of how Canary, the series, came about. I was driving home after work, and I passed a work truck with the name "Canary" on the side. This was obviously four or five years ago.

But the word stuck. And my grey matter immediately went to "canary in a coal mine" which is some fucked up business for said canaries.

But I couldn't get the idea of a character who put herself in situations as the canary in a coal mine. On purpose. For overwhelming and traumatic reasons.

I LOVE damaged characters. They are my jam, jelly, and whatever other toasty condiments exist. Because they arc the hardest. Because even though I never FIX these characters I write, I give them people to surround them with care. A path yet unexplored. And the ballsiest balls that ever existed to move forward.

Ah, where was I going?

Story ideas. That's the ticket.

I have a list of over two dozen titles, most with genre, I need to write. I've started on at least half a dozen of them. But the timing wasn't right. Or I began another story. Or...heaven knows. I just live here.

But I can't understand an author stating that they hope they have another story idea.

What breaks my heart, is that I will never be able to write all the stories I want because my list is constantly increasing. 

And while my short ass is hell on wheels at the keyboard, even I can't keep up with myself.

In the Book of Crystal: Issues 24/7.

I write on the weekends because I know Tuesday is a hard pass. And lately, I've been doing pickups on Monday. So that's also a no-go. But I write Saturday and Sunday because I can't...not.

Murphy has begun to give me the side-eye, which I perfected decades ago. Apparently my feline son has picked up the habit. 🙄

Because he is the top priority in the household according to the Book of Murphy: Needy 24/7.

That's it for me. 

Off to the land of Enchantment. And no, I don't mean New Mexico. Though, that's a killer motto.

You know us. Oklahoma is OK.

meh

Not really.

Canary series 25% off!

This one will go down in infamy for me. Blew through the first book. Usually do. Second book was a bit more challenging, but still finished in a timely manner. Third book???

Keep in mind, I've written a five-book series before. Not my first rodeo, in the slightest. But this fucking book there tried to kill my short ass, and I was NOT a fan.

Thought I had it.

Started.

Headdesk.

And again.

And again.

Ad nauseum.

It is now well with my soul. And in that vein, I'm offering the entire three-set series for $33. A discount of 25% on the paperback prices listed.

Canary series order form.

Great time to pick up some books for summer reading in the chaise or by the pool.

Canary: 

Ray Smith likes her solitude. But when her siblings drag her into a deadly Fae war, survival becomes her only choice.

A mad mother. A vicious queen. Monsters that kill without mercy.

The clock is ticking, and in the Fae world, one mistake could cost everything.

Family pulled her in. Blood will keep her there.

Canary: Dark Descent

Three siblings burn in Hell. The others tear through the mortal and Fae worlds.

Ray fights to protect those she loves—but the price is devastating.

As new players crowd the board, the hunt only grows bloodier. And survival is no longer enough.

Love costs. Survival demands more.

Canary: Out of the Shadows

The gods have joined the game—and they want Ray erased.

Every secret bleeds into the open. Every choice exacts its price.

Her father’s name is no longer a mystery—it’s a weapon.

As the war reaches its breaking point, Ray must decide what kind of monster she’s willing to become to end it.

The board is burning. The gods are watching.

And this time, Ray plays for keeps.

*******

Bitch, what?

Book four in my mythological retelling series centers around two main ideas. One: trying to win daddy's favor is an effort in futility. Two: Medusa got the shaft.

Not going to dwell on the first as it's in progress, and I don't want to give any spoilers.

But let's trot down Medusa Lane for a moment.

This woman was a handmaiden for Athena in her temple. Pledged herself to this goddess. Then Poseidon, walking sphincter, raped her in the temple. And instead of Athena being like...hey! Let's fuck this Sea God up, she punished Medusa.

There are so many layers to this. 

First of all, Athena would NOT pass the Bechdel test. She basically raped what Poseidon couldn't touch. She ruined the rest of Medusa's life. Cursed her for eternity. 

And this is a running theme with these hedonistic fuckers. Worship me or be punished. Worship me AND be punished.

In my first MR book, I write about the relationship between Apollo and Hyacinthus. In a nutshell, Apollo accidentally killed his lover and then turned him into a flower.

That's also a running theme with these assholes. In fact, I have Hyacinthus' brother say, "Yeah. Those fuckers like to do that."

It's having their cake and eating it, too. 

Feels like half the well-known flowers that exist have a messed-up back story.

But I digress. The smallest bit.

The gods, in all cultures, got away with everything they wanted. Usually in the cruelest way available. And that, my dear ones, is why they need a mythological retelling and comeuppance of monumental proportions.

*flexes fingers* 

May it be so.

I'll forever be that girl

1.   Story idea

2.   Make OneNote Notebook

3.   Jot down shit I know like names and places and plots

4.   Stare blankly at computer

5.   Realize my short ass is in for a lot of research

6.   Look up big themes

7.   Research small themes and crossovers

8.   Go down rabbit holes no human was ever meant to fall into

9.   Find fascinating shit I'll use in a future book

10. Be so appalled I can't look at myself in the mirror 

11. Reread the scintillating stuff

12. Grey matter does its thing by weaving together in my subconscious

13. Have ah-ha moments.

14. Can't sleep

15. Compulsive writing

16. Happy dance at the beauty of it all

17. Want to yeet keyboard into oblivion

18. Research more

19. Lose myself in the web for a day or two

20. Come back crazier and armed with factoids for days

21. Resume writing

22. Question self. Then question why I question self.

23. Manic writing

24. Euphoria

25. Finishes book

Rinse and repeat until the end of my existence.

Ace

I'm near the end. Total of 75,116 words. I know what I want the fourth book to be about. Funny thing being, that's all in my head, where the good shit is. But the good shit needs research. I need a connecting factor and may have found one between the Greek and Egyptian. We'll see.

So I'm on the last chapter of Ace. Jotting down the intro to book 4. Encapsulating the basic plot into a few paragraphs. Then filling in with all the shades and nuances.

I'm building a bridge, basically. 

Book four is quite dark, actually. That's what happens when one backstories the Gorgons. When past abuse begets future abuse. When silenced voices roar. When amends are demanded.

I've been SA'd. Most females have, which is beyond fucked up. I was going to say it was "sad", but you know what? IT'S FUCKED UP.

And writing this material and subject matter with a lighter hand is cathartic. 

I'm reminded of this Joss Whedon quote: “Make it dark, make it grim, make it tough, but then, for the love of God, tell a joke.”

That's me. 

I'll unwind you quicker than shit and then make you blow snot from laughter. I carry tissues for both instances.

There is an art to pain. Every brush stroke. Every key stroke. Every exhalation.

Fear is the memory. Living is the triumph.

Everybody has a story

DISCLAIMER: I have intensive therapy once a week. That is today. I cannot drive myself to or from said appointment. I am more than likely still under the influence.

Proceed with caution.

The Honey works from home. And she and her people are literally at the ass end of a HUGE PROJECT. Months in the works. So on and so forth.

Today is my once a week therapy where I'm unable to drive myself.

Honey is busy.

I take Lyfts.

First of all, I'm me. Second of all, ADHD. Keep those close to your chest.

But I think someone, not me, should put together a story of Lyft drivers. Like my guy this morning has advanced diabetes. He rents the car he drives, by the week. It has the bells and whistles that make it easier for him. 

But still.

The mind boggles.

They are every shape, size, and color. Spectrum of gender. I'm curious as to how they started and why. 

Nice thing about Lyft rides are I can specify I'd rather have female or non-binary drivers. 

I do.

But back to the meat of it. I want to know things. I want to understand them. And having a crack at these stories would ensure better understanding of the job and lifestyle.

It's fascinating.

Yes. I would look in your medicine cabinet, given half the chance. 

Top Five Meme.

😂

This bitch is on fiyahhhhhhh

It's true. Finished up my writing day on Ace with over 70,000 words. Still haven't finished the title yet, though.

Where's my Brad Pitt?

I'm a virtual "say three words, and I'll sing a song" lady

Ace, my third book in the Plot Twist series, is at 62,200 words. There will be at least 10,000 more, I believe. So far, it'll be the longest by a few thousand. 

Writing is my jam. My jelly, also. But my mind has a tendency to think quicker than my typing fingers (100+ wpm), and then the fun really begins. I always read through what I wrote the day before because it's just enough but not too much, you know? And behold...there were four words missing scattered throughout the text. Because I thought them when I was writing and assumed my fingers kept up. 😑

That's a little hitch in my giddy-up. I also love the songs. If I don't stop myself, I'll have contrasting words in my head between the latest song kicked off by a phrase or word and the actual story. 😕

This happened yesterday, and I caught myself typing the lyrics into my text. Then snorted at myself and fixed it. 

Maybe it's my wee grey matter taking a moment. 💀

My ear worms are varied. I have three or four I always fall back into when writing. Then, triggers by text. Singing an ode to Murphy. You know, the regular shit.

Of course I'll share! Thanks for asking.

Ear worms from the underworld:

Take a Chance On Me

Stayin' Alive

Love in an Elevator

I'll Make a Man Out of You

There's at least two more, but I'll save those, I guess, for when I'm writing on Ace. 🙄🤣

A winner in the G search data

Boustrophedon. (BOO stro FEE don)

Isn't she amazing???

*swoon*

Best believe I'm using her.

Finished at a bit over 50,000 words. 

I kinda feel like the word should be a dinosaur or something. Huh.

 

A bit salty

First of all, I've unequivocally stated my position on AI and its ilk. Research? Fine. Doesn't seem much of  way to circumvent that these days. At least not with my browser. But that's the lane it should stay in.

*slides large soap box over*

Authors are special souls. They dig deep when they write. They're passionate about their works. They are proud of their tales.

When I worked at the library, my blood pressure would go through the roof at yet-another celebrity book being published. Children's? Yes. But also, adult. 

I read Drew Barrymore's "Little Girl Lost" and loved it. I picked up Britney Spears' book, and I couldn't finish it. It was horribly written.

Just because you can does not mean you fucking should.

If anyone were to run my stories through AI, and it popped 75% or something (that's a number I read in an article a minute ago), it would easily be sorted. 

All my notes are online. Right now? I have 57 tabs for "Ace". From god origins to popcorn varieties. I'm beyond sick and tired of people who want to be published, pushing out far inferior works that may actually hit a bestseller list. 

The. Fucking. Audacity.

Any writer who uses AI isn't worth their salt. 

If you don't bleed for your art, why are you creating it? 

No moderation or in-between

 Never been a moderate person. Various ways that's both good and not. 

I find myself writing on this mythological retelling series and being fucking delighted. Briefly pulled off to look at two other pieces, but I'm right back to it.

In fact, halfway finished. Sitting at a little over 35,000 words. If pattern holds, I'll finish this by the end of March (maybe beginning of April) and start on book 4. 

These characters live and breathe in me. Maybe that's part of the magnetism. Because it's more like revisiting an old favorite place instead of reinventing the wheel. 

Time to write until my body can't stand it anymore, or Murphy sings the song of his people.

This could go either way.

OG

I've asked agents, at conferences, about blogging. None were enthused. Pity. I enjoy this. And while it may not have a lot of readers, I write it for me. As memories and accountability and a timeline of events.

Now. That doesn't mean I would be adverse to more readers. 

Thought I would wander over to Substack and look at the hype.

I didn't like it. 😑

The layout smacked of the ill-conceived love child of the old Twitter and TikTok. 

Did I ever tell y'all I tried that platform thing where you could keep track of two Twitter accounts? Fuck all if I can remember the name. It'll come to me at 1:33 this afternoon in the middle of another thought. But it was INTIMIDATING. I tried to keep track of both my personal and professional comings and goings. 

Nightmare fodder. 

Promptly signed in back and forth between the two. 😤

As far as Substack, I'll stick to Blogger. We've been friends for decades now. Never been a WordPress girlie.

And the writing?

Well, you guessed it. Hitting up "Ace" again today. I enjoy this story because it's not precisely like the first two. There's a bit more emotion and depth. As for the fourth in the series, it'll be dark. 

Oh, but I love this.

Thought I'd want to continue working on my Time Travel Romance, but this series occupies my mind and time. I cannot wait to write each day. To sit down and weave words and worlds. 

If only I don't spontaneously combust in the Sanctuary.

😓

Ace

Currently working on "Ace", the third book in my PT series. Stopped today at 31,200 words. Couldn't quite leave this series alone. That's not a bad thing. I am deep in Yoruba mythology. Fascinating.

Sometimes I'll blog about my G searches. I'll have to admit to having a moment when typing "blunter" into my story. It's one of those words, and one of those days, it certainly neither looked nor sounded correct. 😦

Like...it bothered me, folks. 

The reason, I discovered, is because it sounds too much like the British slang word "punter". 

Like, my medulla oblongata was not well. I'm frantically searching my tattered grey matter for a reason. 

I should know better. 

But my ADHD wouldn't let this SOB go.

😌

Ever have a panic attack over a word? Yeah. 0/10. Would not recommend. 

Antyway, that's me today. Finished writing until tomorrow.

The OKC Thunder plays the Wizards at 4:00. I'm locked in. We're snagging pizza and chilling the rest of the day. 🥳🎉

Will I be back to giving my endocrinological system a workout tomorrow?

You betcha.

The Murphenator

Murphy Lee. Mighty Murfin Power Ranger. Murphenstein. Murphenheim. Murfinturkle. MiniMurf. Screech. Squeak. Boy Child. What is your damage, Murphy? Murphenfoofoo.

I love my new ginger boy. We are all still adjusting, but that's to be expected. I think it takes a feline at least 3 months to get mostly comfy.

Not only did I adopt the Murph. He adopted me. This is uber prevalent and germane to today's post.

I try and write from whenever I crawl out of bed until at least 2 or 3. One of us (gives Murphy the stank eye) does not care for this arrangement. Simba, his older brother, used to lie on the day bed in the Sanctuary and rest his eyes. He was completely satisfied knowing I was in the same room.

NOT the Murph. He wants to be in the same skin. 

I do not jest.

We share the same pillow at night, and he must be touching me in some way. He naps in between my legs when I'm in my rocker recliner. 

And the booger head is incredibly vocal. Thus the "What is your damage, Murphy" nickname. Still learning his vocabulary at this point. 

I'm currently at my desk with Murphy approximately 6 inches behind my chair wheel lounging like one of those French girls. I don't mind the proximity. I DO mind writing while he voices his displeasure. When he stands on his back feet and put his paws on my desk top, only to look at me with keen annoyance. When he tries to JUMP on said desk where there is literally no room except for my trauma.

Sir. SIR!

Mr. Man was being incredibly obnoxious yesterday, and I decided to quit writing a bit after 2. I grab an ice water, my phone, and settle into my rocker recliner.

The little shit is NOWHERE to be found.

😒

I beg your finest pardon. I quit, and he splits?

😑

I've told myself I'm not quitting early today. 🫡

My little goober can go amuse himself for a bit longer.

Will Crystal lose her mind and give up the ghost? Will Murphy succeed in his most-irritating ploys for attention?

Find out tomorrow on This is my fucking life.

(picture as proof)

At a crossroads

Not an impasse, dear ones. But most certainly a crossroads.

This is when I thank my Executive Dysfunction for being the whore it is. I've referred to this fantastic ADHD bullshit more than once. I'm stuck in neutral and: forgot about it, am looking at my phone, order a soda from Sonic, clip my toenails, pet Murphy, hop down the deepest rabbit holes that have nothing to do with nothing.

No, thanks. I don't want any.

It's hard to imagine this if you don't suffer from it. And, as someone else sagely stated, "It's not only for annoying things, good things also count."

meh

Had one of my intensive treatments on Tuesday, and it took me OUT, fam. Wednesday was also a wash. 

And I could not hate many things more.

Every moment I am away from my writing, I'm twitchy. It's my gateway drug to a happy place. Also, hell. 😂

But literally? My skin hurt. My outer stretchy covering. Pains shooting hither and thither. BAD evil headache that punished me relentlessly. I couldn't sleep because I hurt that bad.

I don't have dermis picnics. I don't write odes to my dermal casing. It's skin. FFS. 

But when that shit is painful, ain't nobody happy.

Now.

Let's regroup.

Today is a day of progress (she writes before she even attempts to open .docx). We shall venture forth and embrace the imperfections of ourselves and our surroundings. I don't know how long I'll last with the fucking temps in the 90s, and my Sanctuary is the hottest room in the house. 😑

But yea...I shall endeavor to make it work for me. Until I pass out, and Murphy has to give me oxygen.

He's a good kid.

So that's it.

My roller coaster with my mental and physical health. My absolute irritation with anything that prevents me from writing and moving upwards. 

As for the writing, it seems lately there are a lot of newbies out there. Hi!...if you're one of them. 

You don't ever pay someone to publish your book. Money should flow in the author's (and possibly agent's) direction. 

Don't buy, literally, the emails that are prevalent in today's society that praise your book to the heavens, and would you like some more information?

No. You would NOT fucking like some more information.

Block and send to spam.

You can format in .docx. To me, the easiest. Other people use Grammarly or Reedsy. I'm sure there are others. I love Word. Always have. It's free, for one. It is easy, and if you have a learning curve of some sort, then practice in it. Also, free. Paying an editor can be pricey. Trad publishing houses, of course, offer editors. Finding one for yourself could run into the thousands. Not trying to scare you. Simply letting you know. But yes, it's traumatic. 😵

You can pay someone on Fiverr to create a cover for you. Or, you can dip your toe in Adobe Photoshop, Adobe Premiere Elements, or other artistic apps. I only have the Adobe because they were on sale as a 2 for 1. My short ass DOES NOT pay that kind of money for anything but MS Office Suite.

But, I use Canva. $15 a month. And I've made some great covers from simple photos thrown together. I had the HUGEST learning curve with it and almost dropped it completely. Glad I stuck with. We're friendly for now.

Real talk.

If you are only writing to give to your friends and family, please don't spend all that money on items you don't truly need. Even if you ARE writing to broadly publish, don't go upside down in your writing journey. You should never be paying out (marketing, conferences, etc.) more than you're bringing in.

Take care of yourself. And your books. And your skin...FFS.

Everything old is new again

I'll admit to being laser-focused on my writing while in the flow. Everything else falls to the wayside. Is that normal? No idea. But it's me and my method.

"Plot Twist" and "The Morrigan" poured out of me. Effortlessly. That's a gift I haven't found in around two decades. Consequently, everything in that time period focused on them. Then, I started the third book. Felt I needed a moment. Put that aside. Started my erotic romance. Am giving that air, also.

But in the midst of my trying to decide what to work on next, reality struck. (It rarely strikes. I think it knows I'm not a fan most days.)

I have five books I published twenty years ago, where I just received my rights back. 

Oh look, Crystal! You can work on them. *headdesk*

Two of my recent erotic romance were published oh-so-many-years-ago. One was the bestseller at my ePublisher for three years. Couldn't stand the cover on the other. 

I edited. Rewrote. Brand new cover. Boom!

Good to go.

Now. Let me explain. When I started publishing in 2005, I signed on with Whiskey Creek Press and its imprint Whiskey Creek Press Torrid. I published at least two books a year, sometimes three.

Word came down that Start Publishing wanted to buy the ePub. Done deal. Then Simon & Schuster took over that. And for years, my eBooks were available on the S & S website. 

I wrote a few times and asked for my rights back. Never heard word. So I kissed the Sanctuary carpet when I received the email I had my rights back to at least nine of my works.

I polished about half and repubbed as second edition. 

Unfortunately, circumstances prohibited me from continuing to write at that time. Major house fire. Major move. It was an ugly time. When I started again in 2017, I went strictly Indie. 

In 2005, if you wanted reviews, there were about half a dozen sites you could submit your work to, and they would review it. Bitten by Books. Dear Author. The Romance Studio. And reviewers would get to know you, and you them. It was wonderful. I had reviewers before I finished books. 

Now?

I hope authors are ready to send swag and a card vowing to give up a kidney, if necessary. The review business is a popular one. ARC readers are rare and beatific. I belong to a couple of ARC groups on FB, and it's the same old routine.

Most readers don't want a pdf. They want a physical copy. But even sending one copy media mail, you're paying as much for postage as the book costs.

That's a lot of money to shell out with no guarantee a reader follows through with previous intentions. There are ARC contracts now, which honestly blows my geriatric mind. There's still not guarantee.

But I digress.

😶 

My point, and I do have one, is that I have a four-book paranormal romance series written. I simply need to put the energy for editing and new covers. I also have a time-travel book I can play with.

While times change in the book business, they also remain the same.

Keep writing.

Keep pushing.

All good books find a home.

😌 

Hard pass

For reasons unbeknownst to myself, I've felt like hammered dogshit since Friday. Was it because I did too much? Maybe. Not ruling that out. That's why I wait and do everything on one day. But I felt hot. And it WAS hot. And my stomach was unhappy. 

Went to bed early and woke up at midnight feeling like I was going to throw up. But the fun didn't stop until after three. Stomach crampy and felt like wire hangers in there. Sharp and awful.

Woke up Saturday and couldn't muster enough energy to do much. Went to bed early again.

I HATE to waste days, and that's what it felt like this was.

Realized as I took my nocturnal meds Saturday night that I forgot to take them Friday night. 😑

Seriously.

Woke up this morning still hot. Stomach still feels like there are wires in there. 

And I'm completely unamused. 

Started my erotic romance and wrote a bit over 3000 words. But my body is not up for any of it. Was going to cook dinner last night. 

Yeah...no.

Trying to pull something together because this next week, I'm booked Tuesday-Friday. You'll find me in a puddle Saturday.

I don't like to be inert. I find it annoying and inconvenient.

But here I am.

Inert. 🖕

I had a blog title

Maybe two hours ago. It's gone the way of the Oklahoma wind which means I'll never see it again.

I've:

picked up groceries

talked to middle child

started laundry

fed the Murphinator

put groceries up

did dishes

Am currently sitting in the sauna known as the Sanctuary. 😑

I believe, oh yesssssssssssss, literally just came back to me. The subject. NOT the title, of course. Curse you, Oklahoma wind.

I wanted to chat about reading and writing.

I read what I want. When I want. The last physical book I put on hold at the library was "King Sorrow" by Joe Hill. I gave it plenty of time to enchant me. It didn't. I felt as though I were reading a Lev Grossman novel. I wanted the spark and terror of NOS4A2. That shit still scares me. No joke.

But I digress.

Then, since I'm an impatient heifer, and couldn't WAIT for Season 2 of "Dept. Q" on Netflix, I proceeded to look up the author of the source material and plow through his books. Author--Jussi Adler-Olsen. I read one every four hours or so. But waited until a new day to start. 

I stopped at book 8: Victim 2117.

I believe he may have jumped the shark*. I'll say no more.

(*archaic reference to "Happy Days" episode)

I've not found anything else I want to take its place. That makes me...sad, actually. All I DID was read in school. Ask my Algebra II teacher. 😁

When I write, I don't need the words in that way, because I already have them. I'm creating my own story. Better than any drug out there. I never feel so focused as when I'm storytelling.

But, when I finish a book, I can take several directions.

I published "Canary: Out of the Shadows" on March 4th. Then I added it to Amazon and Draft2Digital yesterday. Put it on my FB, here, and notified the masses.

But what do I really want to do?

Start another book.

Which is grand, except all I had for my erotic romance was the name of the three main characters. I've added another. And since I'm visual, I went poking about G and finding images that suit. Helps me IMMEASURABLY. 

I have some dialogue. Half a dozen locations. The premise, of course. I am FEELING it.

Having said that, when all the booktok girlies and small-business romance stores want to know what romance I'm reading right now.

*blinks*

My own?

I tried to read an erotic romance highly recommended on a thread and didn't make it five pages in. It was written terribly. Fifty Shades, anyone?

Erotic romance is not only saying the dirty words and using eighty different positions. That's Erotica. Erotic romance demands a connection, a price, a peak, and resolution. All while tying the reader in knots. 

If an author cannot provide the above, then call the book what it is. Erotica. And bad erotica at that. 

Ooof. Didn't see my soap box under me.

Imagine that.

Writing romance and any other genre has broad guidelines. Romance guarantees a Happily-Ever-After. That's the kick. That's the payoff. But the path is what makes the story. The hardships. The pain. The connection. There are only so many tropes in romance, and they're pretty basic. It's what you do with your voice in the story which makes it unique and worthy. I'd much rather forge my own path than take the path trampled down by others. 

*end scene*

Disillusionment

The disappointment Crystal feels when researching for her incredibly erotic romance...only to find out that someone she thought was a natural redhead...IS NOT!

The scream I screamt.

WTF?

meh

I'm not sure I can continue now.

Canary: Out of the Shadows

The final book in my Canary series.

Canary: Out of the Shadows

The gods have joined the game—and they want Ray erased.

Every secret bleeds into the open. Every choice exacts its price. Her father’s name is no longer a mystery—it’s a weapon.

As the war reaches its breaking point, Ray must decide what kind of monster she’s willing to become to end it.

The board is burning. The gods are watching.

And this time, Ray plays for keeps.

Ray has never been anyone’s chosen child. Her mother went mad. Her grandmother is Hecate—the goddess of witchcraft and death. And her so-called family? Half-gods with too much power and too little mercy.

But the real secret isn’t in her bloodline—it’s in her father, the ghost no one talks about. The one even the gods fear.

Ray’s very existence is the catalyst in a game spanning three worlds. And the players will stop at nothing until she’s erased from the board.

It's March

Wow. Not November? Because I swear to all that's good and holy I've lived three lifetimes in these three months. Not in a good way.

Will publish "Canary: Out of the Shadows" today. Entirely excited about it. 

I wrote the Canary series as a trio. I never meant to take it further or continue with the characters.

Small problem. I LOVE these characters. I loosely based my protagonist on Lisbeth Salander in "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo". The will to survive. The compartmentalization. The need to protect, though damaged.

Serena, Lace, John, Stella, Dale, Nessa, and my favorite mutant mortal--Cody. That boy grew on me and Ray at the same time. 

And that's it for me. When the book is finished. When I type "The End" and date the last page, the characters don't go quietly into the night. They still live inside me. Another wonderful thing about being an author. To paraphrase Patrick Swayze to Demi Moore in "Ghost"...you take them all with you. It's quite beautiful.

Is it maddening?

If Chris Evans isn't telling you, I've nothing left to say.

That's why I reference my Mind Cabin. But a nice one. Not one of those serial killer hideouts.

And that's where my characters stay and play. They book their respective room, and we calculate when is the best time for them to visit me.

Does this always work?

See Chris Evans gif again, please.

Truth is, I don't know if I'm ready to let the Canary crew retire silently to their rooms. I'm not sure yet. I wanted a crossover, maybe, but that doesn't vibe yet, either. 

Writers are weirdos.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

Canary covers

Oh me oh my.

Sometimes, one forgets what they are doing. I am that one.

I designed the cover for "Out of the Shadows" before I'd written most of it.

Now, I'm excited to put this entire project together.

But, if you hadn't seen them, here are the three covers. Designed by me and Canva.

That book that didn't end

I have never, in my entire lengthy writing career, wrote a book that I simply couldn't blow right through. Characters, premise, and everything in-between came to me.

There's always one.

Canary. My wonderful Urban Fantasy series. I love it so much. I love Ray, my protagonist. Like LOVE. Books 1 and 2 came right along. Then 3, the finale, took months. I don't take months. This is not the norm. And I'm not quite sure where the block or blocks came from. Hold up. It's all coming back to me now. (Thanks Fibro and Celine).

It was the fight above and below. Because the fight below actually came in stages. And my OneNote (praise the technological lordt) made it a bit easier for me as I listed out all the elements and then put them in order of important and timing. Really smoothed me out. But took a couple of weeks. And I, in my literary hubris, thought the battle above would be a piece of cake.

headdesk

No, Crystal. It most certainly wasn't. Because I already had the baddies picked out (LOTS of research) to mesh with the battle below because everything is connected.

Then I had to take the baddies talents and proclivities into my soul when matching with the fighter. Then...blend in other fighters to help the good guys. 

It was fucking overwhelming. And I let that get to me. Like...two to three months worth. It was daunting as hell. 

But, finally got to it. Then I had to sew everything a bit, as I already had the scenes after the battle. Had a checklist for each open scene or problem I had throughout the entire series. Then...went through them one-by-one and fixed those. I think it was some unholy number like 35. Because I remember looking at the list and cursing myself. 

It was giving a row of 50 hook and eye closures where 35 were undone. As in a corset. Then I hooked each individually and tightened up the story.

Ta damn da!

And that, my friends, is one of the reasons I do what I do. Ah, the pleasure of the finale. Then, of course, I'm twitchy and immediately start or continue on something else. Because of course I do.

Speaking on Canary: Out of the Shadows, it's going through edits today, and I'll publish it this week. Uber excited about it!

Pretty sure I wrote an entire new story whilst in the bog of Canaryville. And let's hope that never, ever happens again.

😌

I should be writing.

As a writer, do you ever feel like you have a kink and must somehow work that out before truly working on your main novel? Not like KINK...but a hitch, so to speak. It's almost like a mental cramp to me. Something I need to work out to clear a path for better thinking and cleaner writing.

A lot of times, it's this. I like to blog before I write. Cleans out the cobwebs and helps my ADHD sweep the corners. Those ADHD thoughts like to hide in the dark, sometimes. I suppose it's rather like writers needing a clean desk to write. Though others, such as myself, can make do with cluttered, but not too cluttered.

Started on "Ace" this morning. Little bit of fog so I broke that off to come over here. I'm at 17,369 words. Cool beans. Freshest ever. But now, part of me wants to work on my erotic romance. But it's divisive. I'm on this trail right now, and I usually don't fork off until I'm nearly finished. I'm not that. Give me continuation. Follow-through. I can't mess up my rhythm now. Not that I HAVE a rhythm, I guess???

I mean. I do. But that's constantly in flux. And now I'm more confused than when I started.

Go me.

*deep deep breath*

Ace. Yes. Let's do that. Because once I open the door to my erotic romance, I'll have dialogue and scenes to jot down. There'll be more research. 

Hello FBI! Yes, I write books for a living. Never mind my G search. I need to know what type of adult toys are on the market right now. Most popular. Things of that nature. *ahem* And orgasms. I love me some orgasm research. You never know what you never know. 

Anyway, now that I'm sweating, I'll probably hit "Ace" back up since I cleared out some room in my Mind Cabin, more of a chalet really. Shoved my properly improper heroine back into her room until later. But gave her a couple of catalogs to look through. 🤭

Ah, yissssssss...the writing life.

 

Twice in one day

First, and most importantly, here is a picture of Murphy today. No, he should not be there. Yes. I let him, anyway.

No further questions.

Interesting searches for the day:

Yoruba food

How long do foxes live?

Confucius

Wood clad

Colonial house

451 square meters to feet

hostel/dorm/shelter floor plans

And I'm not done yet.

Admire Murphy again. He doesn't leave the house, either.

I don't do boring

But it's doing me right now. 🖕

Twelve thousand words into "Ace". Okay. But I'm finding it a little on the plain side. Every part of me is against this. The first two books slammed into the reader and continued to take their breaths. This one, I feel, is a bit slower. It works for the fact I needed to divulge some information, and I needed certain characters to do this. It doesn't work for the fact I feel like it's taking forever to get there.

I blame the ADHD. And my absolute dopamine-seeking ass.

I can't do slow burn romances. I'm not about high fantasy (except for the master Tolkien--I've read The Hobbit word for word) because the minute I start seeing all sorts of names I can't pronounce, I tend to skip over and then some of the story, if not a lot, is lost.

My attention span is not my friend. But that also means I can read a 53 chapter book in 4 hours.

Tuesdays are a no for everything from me. I have an intense appt in the morning that washes me out for the rest of the day. 

But today?

I hope to either add in more jazzy scenes or come correct with the pacing I want. 

Update on Mr. Murphenstine. He's a bit better. He did get sick, a little bit, this morning. But apparently, ginger boy kitten asshole has decided to absolutely nocturnally terrorize the hacienda. And, the little shit has dug out tinker toys from lordt knows where. But the little buttcrunch is EATING THE PAINT off them. 😠

They were supposed to be all put up. But when your vertical is 4 inches, you can squeeze into all the places.

He's now behind me and chilling out. 

For now.

🙄

Okay. That's me. 

I already know where I want to go, of course, with the story. But now I'm playing with add-ins. The internal conflict is so much more than the external conflict, and I don't want to lose a beat.

Making magic. ✨✨✨

It's been one shit of a morning

There are days that are simply POS motherfuckers you want to cleanse from your memory and soul. And these have nothing to do with the sacred writing. But how can you write when you want to absolutely show your unhinged side?

I'm having one of those days.

Let me complain for a bit.

Toddled to the Sanctuary after a bit of toast. Look at me adulting. Sit down. Boot up. I'm not quite ready to work on "Ace", as I need to do a tiny bit more research on one aspect. Wiki me this. That was great. Cool. Awesome.

Then I decide, on a fucking whim, to pop over to QueryTracker and look up some possible agents for this series.

alright

I want to save a search, but it will not allow me until I subscribe to Premium. FINE

I've wanted premium for a bit now. Only $25 a year. Bells and whistles. Yee haw. I go forth and fill in my info. Then the site asks for payment info.

NOW

I have a business account. Then we have the general fund. Fine and dandy. I look over to the list on the right as it brings the ones I use all down. I expect my business account card to look like that in the list. 

No.

I accidentally use the Honey's general fund card. And didn't realize THAT until I went to renew my LLC, and it auto filled her name. WHAT? So I grab my card, from the kitchen, and pop back to my desk. 

sigh

I then pay for the LLC out of my account since my card is right in front of me. THEN...I go online to transfer $25 from my account to the general fund. Except...let me call and give you an access code.

You. Mother. Fuckers.

I have my phone on Do Not Disturb for so many reasons. If you're related, you'll ring through. The rest of the world? Big NO. I take my phone OFF DND and wait for the call. I receive the call, jot down the got damn number, and enter it into the site.

I'm in. Transfer the money from my business account to general funds. Put back DND.

Email the Honey explaining I'm about to lose my shit and why.

Check to see if I have QueryTracker Premium now.

I do not.

FOR THE LOVE OF THE LORDT

Run a payment using my business account.

Goes through.

Honey comes to the Sanctuary.

Explains I used an old general funds card.

Because of course I fucking did.

Fine. Great. 

Said I'd simply transfer the money back to business account.

NEEDED ANOTHER GODFORSAKEN FUCKING SET OF NUMBERS

Said fuck this. Lots of times.

Decided to get into my Sonic app and order some caffeine. 

Um.

App was having issues.

*needs a moment of silence*

Finally opened, and I placed my order. Drinks--which are half price through the app. EXCEPT...it wasn't showing that as an option.

And my short ass is NOT paying full price for a drink. 

nah, homie

Turned off my phone.

Turned it back on.

Opened up the POS app again. Looks to be in order.

Put in my info.

And during all this, my poor Mr. Murphster throws up in here and a tiny bit in the hallway. I've changed his dry food, and we're working on making sure he only eats things that are good for his sensitive stomach. And heavens, does he have one.

And that, my friends, is when I did the shutdown.

The shutdown includes completely being still and silent whilst also wanting to take everything in my sight and destroy it. Doors off hinges. Glass at walls. 

Temper tantrum with the premium edition of that.

I, however, did not give into the temptation because what purpose does it serve? Then I'd only have to clean up more shit.

meh

Finally calmed down.

It was quite a long finally.

Grabbed Sonic drinks.

Completely burned out by eleven.

Damn it, Pepe!

And that's where I'm at right now. Three hours into my workday and not in a good way. 

I would say the rest of the day could blow me, but I've my weekly appt tomorrow which consumes the entire day, and I can't afford to lose one.

I hope to hell your day is better.

Locked in? Yes, please.

Finished "The Morrigan" two days ago. Already 6000 words into the next, "Ace." 

Did I have to research a plethora of things that will be more important in book 4 but I need in book 3? Of course I did. 😑

I use MS OneNote Notebook, and it's my jam. Online notebook with each having its own set of sections or tabs. The further I write into this series, the more tabs I'm collecting on the side. Then I can copy tabs to paste into new works on the same series. Luckily, of course, this notebook is online. My handwriting is...eh...illegible for the most part. I blame my thoughts being way quicker than my hands. But with OneNote, I can type nearly to thought. Nearly. 😂

This is uber handy when I'm writing. Scenes unfold. I jot.

Ah, but as I was saying...research. I need my construction sisters to build seven studio apartments connected. I G'd how long it would take. What size the apartments would be. Permits and planning. ADUs. Did I need them to build a parking lot? Contracts out for electrical, plumbing, and HVAC systems. Access rights. Easements. And other wonderful information I'll need a bit later on. 

Back to "Ace." 

LA calls him "acehole" which pretty much sums it up. Excessive ego on this one. Takes no one at face value. And he can't be taken as such, either. Gives nothing to LA about himself. She has to unearth who this deity is and why he darkened her driveway. 

In the meantime, LA discovers more about her mother.

Good times.

Back at it today. Won't write much as the OKC Thunder play the Cavaliers at noon. Then we're off to celebrate my birthday with an early dinner. That will wear my little ass smooth out. 

Murphentology is killing his litter box, and the rest of us with it. Changing his food to see if that helps. Poops are solid, but sweet baby Jesus...they are life-threatening. 

He was tagged, vaccinated, and fixed when I adopted him. Was going to wait until around his birthday to take him to our vet, but maybe I won't wait.

  

The Morrigan

I've a thing for badass deities. I'm kind of off the Greek and Roman regulars, but I'm always open to find ones I've not discovered before.

Did my ancestry DNA thing. I'm 25% Scottish. That makes sense to me. I'm drawn to visit Scotland. The highlands. The remains of castles from long ago. *swoon*

And Celtic deities?

Oh, but they are fascinating and as badass as they come.

Book 2 of "Plot Twist" is about the Morrigan and LA. And the Morrigan? Let me enlighten you. 

The Morrigan:

The Morrígan is a powerful Celtic goddess of war, fate, and death, often appearing as a shapeshifting crow or raven to influence battles and foretell doom, but also connected to fertility, sovereignty, and the land. She embodies the wilder, darker aspects of nature and destiny, inspiring fear in enemies and courage in heroes, and her presence signals imminent death, famously seen washing bloody armor. 

Often called the Triple Goddess or Phantom Queen. The Morrigan is comprised of a trio of individuals, all sisters. They can, however, each assume the mantle of the Morrigan. 

I didn't necessarily know where I wanted to go in Book 2, after Plot Twist. I already knew the main characters in Book 4, because of course I did. But 2? I'd actually put a small epilogue in Book 1 which alluded to another deity completely.

But then, as I typed the ending, and left a trail of bread crumbs for Book 2, I literally bypassed my first option and boldly typed in "The Morrigan". This book, like book 1, basically wrote itself. I've finished the two books in two months. And I've researched who will be in book 3. 

It's easy to stick to Greek and Roman with mythological retellings, but it's not fair to the reader or other cultures. We are a world. We are not only a couple of pieces.

Having said that, I nearly put Anansi as the main character of Book 3. 

Now. I watched "American Gods" for the first two seasons maybe? I watched until they killed Mad Sweeney, and then I flipped off the television (in two different ways) and never watched another episode. (Do NOT kill animals or a main character I love.)

But I digress.

Orlando Jones played Anansi. He was completely magnetic. And his charm? Oh, but he oozed it. But Anansi is too big a character for my book. I like the minor deities, for the most part. While there is sometimes a bit of source material, I can give the character a backstory of my choosing.

OH! The POWAH!

So...I searched for a minor deity with the characteristics I needed. There will ALWAYS be one. Just means you may have to dive a bit deeper.

Because all of these characters bring something out in LA that she's pushed aside or purposely hidden. And she brings something out in them they need.

Literary symbiosis.

Whew. I went off, didn't I? 😁  

I have no "calm your shit down" button. I simply escalate and go forth until it wears me out. 

But I'll wind this down by saying there are perfect pieces to fit into your works. If one fits in three out of four needs, there will be another that hits the four out of four. Keep going. 

This is the Morrigan on top my desk because I love this bitch.

In a mood

Anyone want to start with a Gregorian chant this morning? Just me? Cool. 

Or...because I saw the iconic living room in a picture on FB...the "Three's Company" theme song?

There's always a soundtrack in my head. I have no "skip" option, which is complete bullshit. On loop?

Suuuuuuurrrrreeeee...these few lines in the Gracie Abrams song:

What'd she do to get you off? (Uh-huh)

Taking down her hair like, oh, my God

Taking off your shirt, I did that once

Or twice, uh

No, I know, I know I'll fuck off (uh-huh)

But I think I like her, she's so fun

Wait, I think I hate her, I'm not that evolved

I'm sorry she's missing it, sad, sad boy

Not my business, but I had to warn ya

*****************************

Maybe not as catchy as "Call Me, Maybe", but thank the Lordt for that.

Switching gears...it can be incredibly painful to be an author. 

I've queries out and about to agents for "Plot Twist." Though I'm thinking of changing the working title to "Broken Discus" for reasons.

I'm sticking to my guns about PT being a wider-published title. I'm nearly done with book 2, "The Morrigan."

And I'm completely in love with the characters.

I'd always wondered how Nora (J.D.) kept track of multi-characters and their respective quirks. The machinery in the squad office. Roarke's secret office. Peabody and her idiosyncrasies. 

Now?

I've a town full of characters I truly enjoy. Nax, the petite baker with a gift for baking and lending an ear. Rhapso, the town's clothier that is both bubbly and pushy. Jason, owns the hardware store and is my protagonist's archenemy. Spice seller sisters, Marta and Nona. Complete opposites. Marta is calm and collected. Nona could make a person want to separate their ears from their bodies. The Gordon sisters, owners of Ashlar Gallery, specializing in stone and masonry. Chloris runs the farmer's market. And Mayor Saint aka Mayor McFuckFace to most of his constituents, also for reasons.

But my heart stays with LA Bennett, my lead. Damaged. Determined. Driven. 

Finding her path amongst a traumatic childhood and an even worse adulthood after her mother passes when LA is nearly eighteen.

Did I mention deities galore?

😁

Radegast. Zephyr. The Morrigan. Brigid. Macaria. Tsukuomi. Seshat. Hedjhotep. Idunn. Annapurna. Budi. 

*sigh*

Man, I love this shit.

Now, an amusing story courtesy of my idiotic ginger child, Murphy.

I'm typing this at my desk, of course, in the Sanctuary. The Murphinator brings some of his toys in here to play. My walls are full from the floor up, but I've carved a large square in the middle.

I put down some Amazon stuffing paper (the brown thin business) because Sim loved the way it sounded. Murphy does, too. Then there's the skin of a furry hedgehog that our Chihuahua baby, Harley, disemboweled before he passed. Also, crinkles. Also, lamb chops. Also...I think there's a fucking wand in here somewhere.

Murphy? Not only does he like attention, he wants to be in the same apparel I've donned. I let him camp out with me in my rocker recliner when I've finished for the day. So, this little shit is batting around one of his crinkles (highly recommend) and bats it between my feet where I'm sitting. I kick it back beneath my chair to the carpet. Then Might Murphin Power Ranger bats it around again.

I hear him on the left side of my chair, under my desk. 

(I'm evil. You know that, right?)

So I raise my left foot up, bring it back down, and I hear a small feline cranium hit the bottom of my desk.

I lost capacity to see, hear, and breathe. I was wheezing like Po taking the stairs in Kung Fu Panda. 

Where did the little heathen land it?

By the front left wheel of my desk chair. 

*looks down and sees supine feline*

I love him so much.

Now that I've ironed my mood out a bit, think I'll bop back to "The Morrigan" and finish her up today.

Have a great Friday!