Is Annoyed a Color?

Before you read this, you might want to read Jester, Britt, and my post from yesterday including the comments. What’s written below pertains to all of these posts.

After yesterday’s soul baring post about my writing and self esteem, I have something that seems, on the surface, to go along with it nicely. I took this damned color test thingy because Jester did. I wondered if the color thing explained why Jester had been annoyed recently. Maybe it explains why I’ve been so moody lately. That would certainly be the answer for someone who believes in karma and fate and all that stuff. I don’t really happen to believe in supernatural explanations for the inexplicable, however.

At any rate, here’s the results of my Color Test. Winter took the free personality test!“Strives for a life rich in activity and experience…”

Click here to read the rest of the results.

I don’t think we can box any of us up as tidily as all of these quizzes do. No two of us are alike and the answers are too pat. Still, they are kinda fun and this one tied in nicely to yesterday’s post.

At Britt’s yesterday, she had people post the link(s) to posts they wrote that they liked best. Reading them was an adventure. I haven’t finished yet, but it was an amazingly creative thing to post. I liked the way it was interactive and how Britt herself went to read all the posts. It was one of those things that makes you smile about the community that is this blogging world.

I posted the link to my 10th Thursday Thirteen. It was 13 excerpts from The Bar that included a kiss. The reason it is my favorite post is because in the comments people told me how the kisses made them feel, and how they wanted to go kiss their S.O. Reaching people with my writing is important to me, whether it’s here or at The Bar. So on the day my self esteem was feeling bruised about my writing, Britt’s post made me think of that TT and how the readers felt after reading my writing.

I feel much better now. Vindicated in a sense. I loved all the comments I got on yesterday’s post, but Vixen was right in the end. I had to find the satisfaction within me. My satisfaction wasn’t in my writing, but was in the feelings my writing evoked in others. So thank you to Jester, Britt, the commenters on my blog yesterday, and everyone who commented on my Thursday Thirteen the Tenth. My self esteem is totally sending you all hugs right now!

Have a colorful Thursday!

Solar Plexus

*sigh* My self esteem has taken a hit in the solar plexus. Lucky for me, I’m used to gasping for air. However, it’s left my mindset that of the poor kid staring in the window of FAO Schwarz at Christmas. Or Ebeneezer Scrooge looking in the window at the happiness of Bob Cratchit’s family despite their lack of money. So I’m a little disconnected, a little lost today. You’ll have to forgive me my moodiness.

One night ShinyBitch told me she needed a poem for her character Sascha. Sascha was going to write a poem to her mate. Shiny was looking for poetry on the internet. A few minutes later, I gave her this:

Winter breeze cold and chill
The screams of broken hearts so shrill
You stand before me so tall and real
But hold me always, let me feel.

The path to love is long and hard
The potholes linger, like your guard
Upon me always watching, ever there
Catch my stumbles with your care

You hold me up when I’m alone
When I can’t bear the river’s moan
The shrieks of pain from winter’s night
You always shield me from its fright

To me you are the only one
Who breathes and sighs and always comes
To my side in darkness free
And lives to love no one but me.

Another time, my friend Jen, who uses the name Opalgirl on message boards and IM, was bemoaning the fact that people were writing poems for each other on the Zanctuary board, but no one had written her a poem. A few minutes later I gave her this:

She glows with a regal light
Twists and turns give forth
Fire beneath the surface
Brilliance not as like the diamond
But instead a warmth felt
From the heart out to the skin
Her moonglow in muted hues
Outshines her sisters
With understated elegance
A genius caught within
The unknown, the mysterious
She is aglow with magic
Her fire banked always
But flashing brighter than the sun
To make those self same sisters
Pale in comparison
And kneel as supplicants
To the Opal.

I’m not into writing poetry these days, although on occasion I can just slap something together like those two poems. I’m sure that neither of them would survive a critique, but both made people I care about happy, and that was all that mattered to me. With the hit to my self esteem, I’ve been sort of bashing myself internally, wondering if all the things I write only matter to a few people. I’ve been questioning my creativity, my skills. I’m no literary genius, but I somehow thought I had it in me to be something more than a technically proficient cliche.

You expect to be critiqued and judged when you put the things you write out there in this electronic media world for others to read. Somehow I’ve come away from a few recent writing experiences with the sense that I’m not expressing myself very well. When I write a piece that is meant to give the reader a sense of the character’s quietly growing despair, a spiraling swirling darkness that is sucking them in, and the reader doesn’t feel that… I can tell myself that it’s just one person. When others chime in with a “meh” attitude about it, I begin to wonder what I could have done to make that sense of quiet despair more palpable. And the answer, of course, is nothing.

I yam what I yam. My creativeness has been honed over a lot of years, and if it’s just not there… then it’s not. I’m not going to drink some magic bean juice and wake up in the morning with a brilliantly creative bean stalk of ideas sprouting from my brain as if I was a JR Ward, Nora Roberts, or Charlaine Harris. (Harris’ books have spawned a new HBO series called True Blood.) I guess I have to admit that I’m just not that creative in an original sense.

I don’t have any trouble being run of the mill and cliche on most days. I was just a little more sensitive today what with the way things have been shaking out at home and work. Tomorrow I’ll probably wonder why I ever felt as if my self esteem had taken a hit to the gut. I’ll probably look at my writing and be happy with it again. Today, I’m just gonna sigh again.

Hope your Wednesday is sigh free!

Wicked Crue

I have a whole two things to talk about today. First, as some of you know, asthmatic me couldn’t go to Cruefest because it’s at Blockbuster in Glen Helen. GH is way too dusty and hot for an asthmatic. I can handle Verizon, formerly Irvine Meadows, and any indoor venue, but the outdoor ones that are excruciatingly hot and dusty, I have to pass on. So I’ve been moping about not being able to go. It would have felt wrong to go without Rott too.

At any rate, I’d been resigned to hearing about Cruefest from ShinyBitch and Marty. Then last night Motley mentions a live feed of Cruefest from Las Vegas. I perked up. She’d already gotten a ticket for the show and wanted to make sure I would get offline so we could watch it on my computer. Do I look like a fool who would say no to that?

The show was awesome. It was just like being in the front row without the bruised ribs and beer in your hair. Tommy is just as funny as ever. Vince was totally kickass. Mick looked a lot healthier than he has in the past… and Nikki… well, Nikki is the stuff of dreams. Wet ones. Dry ones. Hot ones. He is just totally delicious. I could look at the man all night.

Motley went a long way toward paying for that Blackberry by getting the ticket to watch the show live. The funniest thing is though, I belong to, Tommy’s fan club, and they had the info on the site too, but I’m a lazy ass who doesn’t go there very often. But Motley saved the day and we got to see Crue live! YAY!

The second thing I wanted to talk about was Cobblestone Press. Tempest had mentioned in one of her comments that I should submit something to their Wicked line. After spending a few days pissed off about a number of things, I decided I needed something to cool me down. Nothing works better than having to think and think hard. So I went to Cobblestone and started reading their submission guidelines. I realized I had a number of short pieces I could submit.

I psyched myself up, pulled out a 5K story, and turned on my thinking cap to write a cover letter. Ack. That was harder than I thought it would be. I’m not that good about talking about myself and my writing. I mean, I can do it here, this is a casual atmosphere. But to have to write a formal letter about ME? I’d sooner pluck a chicken, I think. I did do it though, and sent off the submission to Cobblestone. I rather think the piece is not hot enough for Wicked, but that’s okay. I needed to get off my ass and get my feet wet. It should be easier to do this next time and maybe eventually I will get published. I do feel good about the fact that I sent something, even if it gets rejected.

Before I go, I have to post something that Gooster posted this week. Teh Hawtness. I love this photo. It’s very textural to me. Okay, it’s hot too.

Tomorrow I’ll be back to pass on the Bear that Karl gave me, that he got from Dawg. It’s really cute, and I know just who deserves one!

Time for me to go watch fake horses run in fake races and just veg until the groceries are delivered. I have no plans for this weekend, other than to possibly try to get Karl and Hilly out for Sunday Brunch or something. Just looking to spend some more time with Karl before he heads home next week. Not that I’ve mentioned this to either Karl or Hilly yet. I lag as usual and they prolly already have plans. That’s okay. I can adjust and come up with alternate ideas if necessary. I’m nothing if not flexible! Happy Saturday beautiful peoples!

Too Hot To Post

So I was looking for a piece of erotica that I wrote about something that happened twenty-ish years ago. It was a story about me and a black leather jacket clad guy named Paul. My first thought was that I would post it here and heat up your Sunday. Then I read it. I haven’t read it since last year, when I submitted it to the 2007 Zanctuary writing contest.

Anyway, when I found the piece, I highlighted it to copy it… and then I started reading. It was a little hard to stop once I’d started. And then I started remembering. Oh, yeah. Then I realized it’s a little over the top to post here. I’d forgotten how hot it really was. I looked it over trying to find just a teaser bit. Nope. It’s all way too hot.

So I mentioned it to ShinyBitch. She laughed at me. She said all my sex scenes are hot. That made me wonder. Why does this scene seem hotter to me? I read it again. Again, it seemed just too hot to post.

Then I started to wonder if it was too hot because it really happened. This isn’t a scene I made up between two characters. Nor is it a scene I dreamed. It actually happened. And that has to be the answer, of course.

Writing scenes between people who don’t exist is easy. Writing what I’ve dreamed isn’t that tough. I don’t remember exactly when I wrote this piece, but I know it wasn’t when I was still seeing Paul. It was years afterward, probably when I was in college.

I was pretty solitary in those years. School consumed me. I had a lover who used to come over and we’d enjoy each other and he’d go home. There wasn’t any dating or spending time together. I guess if we had, we probably wouldn’t have liked each other. He had a busy life, a busy job working for the American Film Institute. I was busy with school. No way did I have time for a relationship. However, I would often write about past relationships.

The piece about the man in the black leather jacket is too hot for me to post. Maybe some day I can or maybe I can figure out how to post a paragraph or two. Right now, when I read it, it’s just too erotic, too memorable. It’s just way over the top. Even for me. And that does surprise me a little. I guess there is a line I can’t cross when it comes to posting personal things on this blog.

Some of you *cough* Jen, Shiny, Mary, and the Other Jen *cough* may be itching to read this little sex scene now. I don’t mind if people read it privately, but I just can’t bring myself to post it in public. It would be as if Paul and I were performing the act in front of all of you. And there, my dear friends, is the boundary that I can’t bring myself to cross.

If anyone wants to read this ancient piece of erotica, email me. winter at winterheart dot com.

Floating My Boat

It felt like a long weekend. Probably because I spent so much of it writing. Next weekend will be a true long weekend since I spent some of my much horded vacation hours and took Friday and Monday off. I wasn’t sure if I would need recovery time since it’s Dave Diego next weekend. When it comes to bloggers, I’ve only met Hilly and Karl thus far, so Motley and I are truly excited about this event. Not that Hilly and Karl aren’t the pinnacle of bloggers, but you know what I mean.

I went to Blog Talk Radio yesterday to set a reminder for Turnbaby’s anniversary show, even though I knew I wasn’t going to get to listen to the whole thing. I had a Bar writer’s meeting online that I knew would pull me away at some point. However, when I went to set the reminder, I noticed a show that was on called The Mortal Vampire. Me being me, I had to check it out.

The Mortal Vampire seemed really cool and his chatroom was hopping. His guest was Bret Jordan who is an author and artist. They were talking about writing and someone in the chat asked how I’d found the show. So I told them about The Bar and that I write vampires. Bret instantly offered to put a link to The Bar on his links page. Very, very cool. I really enjoyed the show and will be listening again in the future. Many thanks to The Mortal Vampire and Bret Jordan for the plug.

Well, it is Monday, and I do have a Marcus for you. First, I have to say that I am just totally in lust with Christian de la Fuente from In Plain Sight. This guy really pushes my buttons which doesn’t happen very often with celebs. I think I totally called it last Monday when I said he was headed for Marcus status. Not that he would ever take Marcus’ place. No man could do that. I’m more than in lust with Marcus. If I ever met him in person, I would be a babbling fool because he reduces me to complete mush. Really, both these guys more than float my boat!

Last week there was a call for a shirtless Marcus so I’ve got one of those for you today. He’s young here, not that he’s old now, but 39 is old for a model. I guess it’s part of his supermodel status that he still looks good and is still working. Not a lot of guys look as good as he does at 39. He’s certainly inspiration for me when I’m writing hot scenes. My muse doesn’t really help me with those. He just tosses a few Marcus photos at me and heads off to get drunk. He knows the Marcus pictures will invoke the hottest of sex scenes.

I want to call out my thanks to Jen from Redneck Romance Writer and Susan from West of Mars for giving my Zanctuary writing contest entry a lookover yesterday. I appreciated the time you ladies took to read the piece and give me your opinions. The rest of you will get to read Silver Lining after the contest is over. The inspiration came from my past (the dude from yesterday), from Marcus and Christian, from a Lady Antebellum song, and from stuff that happens to people online. It’s an emotional piece from the get go, and yes, there is a sex scene! YAY!

Hope you all have a great Monday with whoever floats your boat!