brightlotusmoon: (Asha)
I forgot to come back here after the new year. Sorry, journal. I was busy.

Today, and yesterday, and the day before, I've been... I guess it's ill with a cold, or a cold and allergies? It seems to vary. Obviously, a fibromyalgia flare has been set off. I've been dizzy, shaky, sore, with a scratchy throat, itchy eyes, runny or stuffy nose, yada yada. If it keeps going past a few days, I'll call allergies.

At the end of December, Adam and I began talking honestly about my Neuroweird, and he figured I might do well on an ADHD drug or similar, which made me consider SNRIs, which made me recall my first attempt at Cymbalta in 2002 that went wrong, which made me decide, after talks with three doctors and my insurance, to go back on Cymbalta in place of Zoloft, to see if an SNRI would do better at poking away at my Neuroweird. In combination with the personal therapy regime that will be slowly happening for probably ever, it is working. Most of my compulsive episodes have been very controlled. It is hard work, obviously. Everything is hard work. Sometimes we who have multiple intense chronic illnesses forget to mention how hard it is to just... be. Every day, all the time. Or people who don't understand might forget how hard it is. Not having episodes of... All The Issues, it's hard.
Maybe I just forget, because it's all happening to me all at once, constantly, in the background, and I'm so used to it that I wave it off and go "Meh, it's just Things, it's always been Things, whatever" even though my entire brain is screaming and full of storms. I don't listen to myself enough; I'm too used to me. That's part of an upcoming therapy session, too.

Very current parts of therapy have been literally watching comedy videos while exercising. The Nostalgia Critic videos on YouTube, for example, and Futurama on Netflix, and Cartoon Network during the day (Woo, Amazing World of Gumball, woo, and also the creator of Uncle Grandpa was in my high school class, heeyy).

I've been sleeping with plush animals again since childhood. It's fabulous. Ty makes lovely plush My Little Pony dolls.
brightlotusmoon: (Asha)
I had no idea this was a thing until my mom's novelist friend mentioned it. I'm going to apply and then look at other grants.

BTW, FYI, JSYK, etc: I'm happy. Nothing to do with cults of positive energy or what have you; although positive thinking plays a small part in a specific way, as well as negative thinking, which folds up into balanced thinking energy whatsit. Everyone is always saying "Find your happy." And I have. I'm still going to have low, bad, poor, ugly times, because that is life. People are going to criticise me for things and such, because that is life. Right now, the only thing that matters is how I feel. Good, bad, positive, negative. But I'm just happy. That's what matters. *slowly nibbles on a glazed honey bun*

First novel really is close to finished. I am struggling to figure out what's the better way to blow up everything before reforming. Exploding reality is haaard.
Second novel is flitting around my writerbrain. I think this is going to be all nonsequential. I'll assign chapters later.

LOL, my kitty. Callisto has taken over my leather task chair on which I use a Pillow Pet as a cushion. If I'm sitting, she jumps into my lap, walks behind me, curls around me, and suckles on my shirt while kneading.
brightlotusmoon: (Asha)
So, my thoughts have been spinning merrily amidst what could be a spiraling episode of... Oh, fuck, probably everything at once. After I had a chat with three doctors about the consequences of stress-related memory loss, I quietly decided to start a private mindfulness therapy, which I have only been sharing with the psychologist, for advice, while I move forward in my own brain to stop my own brain from destroying my mindstate.

Tomorrow, I see my general physician and have her write a referral for the local hyperbaric oxygen therapy center. Although it's a bit premature, as they have yet to call me back about an initial consultation. While I was filling out their online New Patient form, I started wondering if they would even take someone like me, with two dozen illness. Even though cerebral palsy is the cornerstone. I just feel so excited about it. That's a good thing. I can still most of my emotion things.

What I find beautiful and fascinating about my private therapy protocol is that almost nobody believes me. I have been stuck in something insane since 2010. Why would they believe I would "get better" now, so many years later after therapy and medications and meditative exercises? Then again, none of them have been in long term therapy or medication. It really does take many years to spur a change this massive. Hence the secret protocol, which includes a possible medication update and potential oxygen therapy.

I don't expect anyone to believe me. I don't expect anyone to believe in my desire to change with this therapy protocol. How could they? Why would they? I am the same as I was when symptoms started. But I don't want their belief. I don't really want support if there is no actual active knowledge. How can you say "Hey, I've been there, I get it, fist bump in solidarity" unless you really have gone through a similar structure of treatment repeatedly for a grab bag of illnesses that mindfuck you for no reason?
Actual legitimate question, BTW.
If you're also a parent of someone with interconnected psychiatric and neurological disorders, I would love input, because when I try to explain these things to my mom who only has hereditary ADHD controlled via lifestyle, my emotion-brain starts shutting down so my technical-brain can word at her, and I know she wants less science and more human. I'm trying. I just cannot get past that very protective mental guardian who shields emotion-Joanna from Outside. And oh, as much as I love Serena, she feels it is easier and gentler to let me sleep while she and Koan the calico kitten organize and compartmentalize all the Me. Ananta works hard enough balancing out all the neuroweird that Alicia in my private epileptic Wonderland can't reach. I haven't had much success in psychically merging with Asha. We are working out my dissociative and depersonalization episodes first.

I will do this. It will happen. Steps have been severely taken. Hard to talk. But if you think you get it, I would love a discussion via Private Message. I am willing to reveal bits and pieces of my Rebuild Joanna Brain Project to acquire tips and advice from those who get it.

Now, see, I view many people as family beyond my blood family - who shall remain the besy family I would want. Various people in my social circle - friends plus family - have always stood with me. I will always need and want that. But for those who are truly normal and looking at me with confusion, puzzlement, exasperation, fear, anger... and the type of condesencing that means pats on the head, chuckling, and "I love you sweetie. Of course you'll change." "You do nothing. You never help. You are too self absorbed, you don't think, you claim memory loss. It is all right, dear. We are used to hit. Just finish writing." Followed by another hair tousle. I'm used to it. It's routine because I am me.
I am not out to prove them wrong, not entirely. I am out to prove to myself that my neuroplasticity really might eradicate the worst of the annoying symptoms.
Maybe this whole autistic ramble came from my hope and excitement over this slow gentle therapeutic process. If loved ones want me to speed it up, I can turn away for a while to meditate.

All I know is that my own husband has been putting up with me forever, and that says something huge.

Love you, LJ family.
brightlotusmoon: (Asha)
'Reborn' by Laura Sava (
'Mirabella' by Rachel Anderson (‎)

Two forms of my own story character, Asha Clara Night, my strongest, most individual, most personal fiction character.

These paintings. Completely different images that look almost exactly like incarnations of the same character of my own subconscious creation Women who look almost exactly like the dreamself I am becoming in my dreams and visions.


Rachel Anderson Mirabella

She was in my dreams last night and many nights before. I haven't decided exactly who she is yet, but in my dreams her name is Asha, meaning "desire, hope, hopeful; life; alive; she who lives." Which says so much, so so much.

She is another dreamself, not a spirit guardian, but much closer to my Self than my other characters (Alicia, Serena, Ananta: my spirit guardian coping mechanisms for epilepsy, memory loss, insomnia, sleep problems, [Alicia], chronic pain and fatigue, depression, anxiety, physical disabilities [Serena], neurology, neurodivergence, autism, total mind-body connection [Ananta].

Asha seems to represent many internal things about my emotions, my heart and mind, my rhyme and reason, my logic, my science, my creativeness and creativity, my power, my energy, my beauty. If she were to reveal herself as a guardian, she would be for emotional states, creative thoughts, desires, loves, patterns, ideas.
Asha is definitely powerful in a way I always wanted to be since childhood: Fae and and Elemental Mage and Neurodivergent and Autistic Witch and Quantum Magic Scientist and Story Crafter and Shape Shifter and Magic Librarian and Magic Keeper.

Asha seems to represent my deep, obsessive, compulsive wish and desire to be one of the psionic-mage superhumans in my stories, to take over for be when I feel failure and self-loathing and terror and panic. I think Asha may in fact be an actual entity, one who communicates outside instead of simply speaking into my visions, dreams, pain flare withdrawings, anxiety attacks.

All I know is that Asha was in every dream last night and throughout the past several sleeps, long detailed intense dreams, and she quoted Kosh. She spoke in a soprano version of my voice that could sing. She was always here She is always here. She has always been here.
I think she was with me since I was a baby. In different forms, in different species, with different names, in different imaginary beings, in different fictional characters. She was made of fire. She used to be a phoenix, a unicorn, a dragon, a star, a nebula. I know Asha. I know Asha in the way I hope to know myself.

The thing is, Asha has a fully active voice when I am completely conscious, aware, awake, functional, and stable. She didn't completely create herself, but she grew and evolved over my lifetime in her own way as a character in my subconscious. She took ideas I worked with and wove them into her personality, behavior, and mentality. My disabilities are hers. She stayed and changed and grew with me like a permanent piece of my spirit. Asha also represents my fluid sexuality - I often visit her in the place she calls home and we make love, representing my desires for love and orientation.

She lives with Alicia in the Wonderland cottage, but she freely moves about my brain more often. She shapeshifts into elemental energies, she moves around my hippocampus and amygdala and temporal lobes and cingulate gyrus and thalamus and auditory cortex and somatosensory cortex and parital lobe and the back of my brain.
She has altered the Wonderland cottage to be something else entirely, with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, two office rooms, a large entertainment living room, a large kitchen, a basement. The outside build would contain concrete, cement, hemp and limestone, bamboo, steel. The glass windows are shatterproof. The doors are hemp-lime and timber. That must say something about my mind's inner workings. Especially since the main reason for hemp being illegal is due to its threat to corporate patentable synthetic fibers and wood and paper product industries, while the medicinal drug potential became subject to false claims and fear mongering alarm campaigns until the original industrial potential became buried under the alarmist anti drug campaigns. Part of me probably knows how powerful this is. Medicine from nature itself and the human brain itself is usually denied and seen as worthless.

Asha represents that part of me that firmly supports the controversial balance of traditional pharmaceutical medicine and nontraditional botanical medicine.
Asha is my activism and advocacy. Asha is the fire that moves my belief in the combination of synthetic drugs and organic drugs. Asha is the phoenix in me that rises after every defeat, every failure, every attack, every oppression, every attack and assault on my truths and faiths.

Throughout many names, faces, back stories, lives, personalities, and individual growths... she has always been Asha Clara Night. And this is how she asked me to look so I could see that there is beauty deep and shining.

I must find and thank the artists for these images, since I found myself taking these pieces of artwork and subconsciously turning them into incarnations of my own fictional character.

Asha may well be the character in that second novel after all. It won't be this Asha, my Asha; just a version, a more humanized incarnation I can bring out to show the public. This excites me. She could help me write it, just by living in my mind.
brightlotusmoon: (Snow White Blood Red Warrior)
I really must post more here.
I've been in a depressive episode, one that now includes a postitctal state.
Feeling truly alive and worthy can be difficult.
I'll work through it and past it. I always do.
Everything hurts. Pain is concentrated in my skull, my face, and my neck. It is hard to lie still with my eyes closed.
Luckily I have many different treatments, yay.
Maybe tomorrow I can really start the second novel as more than outlines. I still need a title. The title "Glass Lotus" is still among the top choices. I still need to research paranormal contemporary nontraditional urban fantasy novels featuring LGBTQU characters with disabilities and superpowers. (Good luck, Jo.)
At least I am eating.
brightlotusmoon: (Snow White Blood Red Dragon Witch)
So, I found this meme. And I started trying to answer the questions. And then suddenly I froze and started crying. I'm attributing that to the depressive episode borne out of that postictal state. Or something. Maybe the migraine too.
I may try again tomorrow.


What is the working title for your book?


Where did the idea for the book come from?

During my third year in college (SUNY Purchase), I was at my best friend's house; we were sitting on her bed reading books quietly. Suddenly, very randomly, I fell asleep (I now realize this was an epileptic seizure) and had... a vision. A dream. Something. Crawling naked through the woods away from a burning building. Moving through a cave in a psychic vision. Actually being psychic and doing psychic things. When I woke up, feeling exhausted and funny, I said, "I just had this amazing dream" and my friend looked at me with this very knowing look. Because, you know, she and I had been having psychic dreams and such for a while. I described the dream And I turned it into several scenes in the first chapter. And the rest of the chapter formed around that vision. And suddenly I was writing more chapters, and then I had a novel happening.

What genre does your book fall under?

Future fantasy. Or is it futuristic fantasy now? A sort of science fantasy. It takes place almost two centuries from now, close enough to have streamlined versions of current technologies, far enough to not be anywhere near now. But there is more magic than science, magic in the form of psychic powers, psionics. Lots of it. Very character driven, to the point where I barely have the world around the characters really built.

What is the synopsis or blurb for this book?

Oh gods, I hate trying to do this.
[*deep breath*] In a future world where mild psychic powers have become common, four of the most powerful psychics in the world will test the limits of their powers and the bonds of their love when a fifth powerful psionic seeks to destroy and rebuild reality - but he needs the help of one of the four to do so. When she refuses and he captures her, she finds herself fighting for her life, her friends, and for all existence.

What actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

I have no clue. Since it will probably be years and years before a film gets made ... maybe Dana could be played by a red-haired Chloe Moretz or Elle Fanning or Ariana Grande or Tiffany Thornton or Sara Paxton or Alexa Vega or Bella Thorne, with hazel contact lenses? Maybe Kara could be played by Selena Gomez or Victoria Justice or Camilla Belle or Ashley Greene or Elizabeth Gillies or Ariel Winter or Jodelle Ferland, with light blue contact lenses? For Ian and Alex, since they are fraternal twins and have different coloring, perhaps Dave Franco or Jeremy Sumpter or Cody Linley or Drew Roy or Max Theriot or Sean Faris or Johnny Pacar or Nicholas Hoult, with blue-green contact lenses and brown contact lenses? Jeremy could be played by one of those guys, with dark blue contact lenses. *shrug*

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

Agency, I hope. If they like me enough.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

First draft? I finished that after college, then ripped apart the whole thing. The ending has been missing for ten years while I put the rest back together. I mean, I have the ending. It's just not put in yet.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

I've had such a lifelong love and obsession with psionic/psychic powers and superhumans that I'd been writing such stories since my pre-teens. I suppose that has come out of my being born disabled and wishing I could be more than I was. And also really really loving superhero/superhuman stories. I've loved Marvel's X-Men comics since childhood. Perhaps all the stories I write are allegories for being born with disabilities. Just something you live with. What you choose to do with it is your choice and yours alone. It can boost you and cripple you at the same time.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

Um. Any book where the main characters have really strong psychic powers? I guess? Like, telekinesis and telepathy and all the subcategories thereof?

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

Fuck, I don't know. The superpowers? The future world? The fact that all my characters are pagan, that polytheism is really really common and running neck and neck with monotheism? Psychic abilities of various levels? Character interaction? A villian who isn't truly a villian but a person who feels wronged and wants to make things right in his own way by destroying the world? A main female character who is disabled but it isn't made obvious? Three other main characters who have mental illnesses that are not made obvious?

(Also, I feel bad that I don't have many POC characters (Kara has heritage that is Navajo, Korean, Welsh. Dana's heritage is Russian, Columbian, Gaelic, Greek. Ian and Alex have heritage that is Celtic, Welsh, Greek. Jeremy has heritage that is Italian, Spanish, Scottish, Belgian)... and many POC characters are tertiary. But, you know, the main characters that came into my head were Caucasian. I don't want to alter their races just to appease social justice warrior readers.)
brightlotusmoon: (Fae Dragon Alien)
I have astounded myself by realizing how many of these tips I have NOT been following. And that realization has now crystallized in my skull and now I know so much better and now I know everything I want to do.
Dude. Whoa.

However, endings are easier than middles for me. I have the worst problems getting from Start to End. I've had my novel's ending in my head for years, but the problem with writing a novel is that there has to be that Middle so other people know why the End happens.
Characters are easy. My college thesis was the first three chapters of that novel, on which I got the highest grade, and I was praised for how the story centered so much around characters in a future world where some technologies needed explaining, although at this point not really, because every single 22nd century technology I wrote about in 2001 has already happened, except the cars that drive automatically, although I'm waiting. Also, the fact that my story's 22nd century science is already happening means I am not creative in the least with science fiction. Which is why I never like to write about brand new technology, which is why I would be shuffled into a future fantasy subgenre and also a slipstream speculative subgenre, even though most the stories would always take place after the end of the 21st century and there would always be psionics involved which is still considered a trope of science over fantasy fiction.
brightlotusmoon: (Fae Dragon Alien)
Holy Gaia's Eyes, you guys, I finally figured out how to move the novel along more quickly. I finally wrote that one sentence - just one sentence - that broke through that blank wall of "Well, fuck, now what happens?" that many writers struggle with.
And now I'm several paragraphs past that. This is the first time I've managed to do that since summer. This is such an insanely massive personal breakthrough that I want to celebrate. But we already have cake and ice cream, so I'll just mark the day and I'll just keep on writing until fatigue begs me to stop.

And to think, all it took was for me to make the antagonist notice the main female protagonist's purple tourmaline engagement ring, which should have helped psychically protect her but didn't, because they're all powerful psychics there and can do what they want. Now to make her fiance suffer that broken neck a little more.

Seriously, though, I want to hug myself and cry a little.

Funny thing? I am in a violent amount of pain today, so severe that I really cannot to much other than type and type and pour my frustration and mood out into documents. Well, then.

To writing! *whiskey shot*
brightlotusmoon: (Pixie Model 2)
 So, I finally, finally, noticed that link thing that tells me to switch to the "new" Friends pages, which a noticed many people complaining about and being angry about and writing rather long posts about how much they dislike it and why and comparing it to sites I've never been to.
And then I scrolled through it.
And so... what's the problem, again?
It's bigger. It's clearer. I can read it more easily. It's... how do I put this... more stretched along the page? With fewer distractions? Is that sense making? I don't know. I honestly an unable to find the problems.
You guys, what are the problems with the New LIveJournal Friends Pages?

Also, my writer block... stagntation? issues? make me cry. I am so stuck at the end of of this one chapter (20? 21? Fuck, I forget) in which the sympathetic villain and the central heroine are in a stalemate and I the writer want the villain to come across as Mentally Interesting Person Who Just Wants To Do The Right Thing And Needs The Help Of The Heroine Except That What He Wants Is To Destroy, Delete, And Reset Reality To His Liking. And a big big important note is that ALL my characters are Mentally Interesting. This is my substitute word for Crazy and Mentally Ill and Disabled. Something is... Not Typical about anyone in my novel. I do not actually come out and name any diagnosis because this is, what, the 2100s, and the DSM has probably evolved into a beast of a book that bites your hand if you get things wrong. Really, the only characters who are most fleshed out as Mentally Interesting/Crazy/Disabled are the Sympathetic Villain and the Central Heroine. Except there's a lot with the Sympathetic Villain. He is quite Delusional and psychotic... but is he a sociopath? A schizophrenic? A schizo-type? Obsessive-Compulsive Personality? Bipolar? Oh, who the fuck cares. He is who he is. And maybe that is part of why I am blocked? Must I give him a Thing with a Name? My Heroine has Severe General Anxiety and Major Depression and PTSD and Epilepsy and Obsessive-Compulsive and Sensory Processing Disorder, Attachment Issues, and and extremely mild Attachment Disorder conflicting with extremely mild Avoidant Disorder.
And now we come to the Why? Why, Joanna the Author, do you have to do this? Why do you want to do this? Why does this matter? What is the point?
brightlotusmoon: (Pixie Model 2)
Okay, Internet. Here is what I want, and here is what I don't want:

I DO want someone to tell me that they are holding me from afar, that they sympathize. I want someone to say, "Oh, wow, I really understand. This is how I feel. This is how I've been feeling. Let me tell you what happened to me! And then let's talk about what you're feeling and we can trade stories about disabilities or fantasy or anything you want! And then we'll watch cartoons and eat chocolate!"
I want to be told stories. Especially fantastic stories and healing stories and comedic stories and disability stories. I want to lose myself in someone else's words, to pretend for just a little while that I am not weak and ill and fatigued and in so much pain. I want to really know that it is not just me.

I DO NOT want anyone to say, "Oh, that sucks, hey, have you tried X or would you try X or could you talk to your doctors about X? X could be a great treatment. In fact, this person I know just tried X and got better in a month! It could help you so much. Just try it!"
Guess what? I really don't care right now. In fact, right now I don't give a wild fuck about X to such a degree that if giant cures for everything were dropped in front of me, I would stare at them and mumble, "Come back tomorrow, I'm napping."

See, I myself have made suggestions and given advice, but I will try to only do that if a person has asked. I am not a hypocrite. What I am is really really tired, and not well, and exhausted, and irritated in general. Someone can give me advice forever, and I will roll my eyes and turn away right now. Because I don't feel well. And someone poking me and shaking my brain like a bulldog with a stick and insisting "Did you try this yet? Did you do that yet?" will make me snap and growl and possibly draw blood.

In conclusion, I just want to be told that I am loved, and that I will be better soon. It doesn't matter how I will get better, it just matters that I will feel better. Because guess what, Internet? I already know how to make myself feel better, and nothing happens quickly.

One more thing:
Dear Internet. Please stop trying to debate with me right now. My personal opinions, thoughts, and beliefs are currently immobile, and you will not convince me to join your side. I am far too weak and ill to bother with you. Go pretend you won. Here is your cookie. I'm taking a nap.
brightlotusmoon: (Default)
Dear Friends:
Do not tell me I will be a great author. Do not tell me I will finish this novel in record time and go on to land a major publisher and become so popular I will win awards. Do not tell me I will succeed. Tell me I will fail. Tell me I have no chance. Tell me I will be terrible.
My fear comes from the fear of failure, of success, of fear itself. I fear being bad, I fear being great. My motivation will be the intention of failure, not success.
I know this seems strange and awful. Don't worry. This will urge me on. This will make my writerbrain say, "Oh yeah? I'll show you! I'll make this great. I'll make this beautiful."
And I will. But don't tell me that.
brightlotusmoon: (Default)
So, I have been a fan of Tangerine Dream since I was very young. I don't remember when I first started listening to their music, but I remember being pleasantly surprised to hear them during the film "Firestarter" (I loved the book and was amused by the movie). I watched it as a preteen and then as a teenager, and I was convinced that Drew Barrymore would go on to do great things (I was right, yay) and that shooting fire with your brain while also moving everything with your brain was one of the best superpowers ever. In fact, the book and movie helped awaken my love for the idea of paranormal powers in humans.

When I was 18, in 1997, I found a cassette tape (you remember those, right?) of The Dream Mixes One. This instantly became my favorite album out of the one hundred plus albums that the group had put out throughout the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s (they started in 1967 and they're still at it, with at least a thousand songs). I instantly fell in love with the songs "Little Blond In The Park Of Attractions" and "Change Of The Gods" because of the fantastic danceability and the way both songs blew my writerbrain wide open so words would spill out and my levels of serotonin, dopamine, norepinephrine, and endorphins would skyrocket and go dancing and it was marvelous.

After all the CDs came out, I bought as many as I could from secondhand shops, because when I was in my late teens and very early twenties, there weren't very many internet stores; Ebay, Amazon, and SSL encryption were just babies. I personally had Hotmail and AIM and that was all (which helped me keep my long distance with Adam as close as possible beyond phone calls). Yahoo had only been out for a scant few years, and I only used for backup email. Google barely existed and and Wikipedia didn't happen until after I graduated college. We even did all our studying with, like, real books and floppy disks video tapes and stuff. Ah, the late 1990s, how little we had.

Anyway. "The Dream Mixes One" was one of the dozens of CDs I bought and listened to while writing my short stories for my college writing courses, since my major was Creative Writing and I had to be Creative. The songs on that album helped me craft what would become the dark futuristic supernatural fantasy novel that I'm still working on.
So, guess what I found on YouTube after looking up Tangerine Dream's gorgeous rendition of the William Blake's "Tyger Tyger" poem?


I. Am. So. Ecstatically. Happy. I just listened to the whole album and I want to fly. Those neurotransmitters are now spinning and dancing and raving like dancing ravers at a dance rave. I think I can kill this migraine I'm having just by laughing at it, I swear. I'm going to go WRITE. Because I am made of WORDS.

Granted, I am still in pain all over, but it's okay. Because music will help soothe it all.

Music really can heal. It just has to be the right music for you, the music you love, the music that you personally cherish. This is mine.
brightlotusmoon: (Default)
fan·tas·tic   [fan-tas-tik]
1. conceived or appearing as if conceived by an unrestrained imagination; odd and remarkable; bizarre; grotesque.
2. fanciful or capricious, as persons or their ideas or actions.
3. imaginary or groundless in not being based on reality; foolish or irrational.
4. extravagantly fanciful; marvelous.
5. incredibly great or extreme; exorbitant.

So, my favorite Young Adult series is Kiersten White's Paranormalcy trilogy. The third book, 'Endlessly' will be out soon, and eventually there will be at least one movie. I've been reading Kiersten White's blog, and she is one of the most awesome people in the world - she's also my height, heh.

Recently, Kiersten wrote a post about how hard writing is, how it makes you bleed and sob and lose your mind some days. And I commented because I was so touched that she put it so well:

"Kiersten, thank you so, so, so so so so much for this post. It's what I needed. See, I've been working on this futuristic urban fantasy pagan polytheistic supernatural psychic power novel since I was 20 (I just turned 33) and I've almost finished it, but many, many things have derailed me. Illness and disability, mostly (I have a disability hearing in July and I'm so nervous I can't brain straight), and also growing up, because when you write, you always grow with your characters. And my characters have had over twelve years to grow, and dear gods, that feels like forever, doesn't it? Why can't I just finish it? Whhyyyyy? *cough*
There were many, many people who told me that I was writing a great book and that it would sell very well (lots of pagan readers out there, people getting tired of sexy vampires, whatever). But I have this shatteringly fragile sense of self that often rears up (especially after an epileptic seizure or a fibromyalgia flare) and points and laughs, "Ha, ha, you suck, your brain sucks, your book sucks, you will never be published, mwa ha ha..." And it takes me a while to do battle. I have a very pretty and deadly mental sword, though. I call her Phoenix.
So. Erm. Yes, well. I think I've said more than I'd expected to. Anyway.
Erm. Thank you. Yes! That's what I wanted to say. Also, that I pre-ordered Endlessly and am now clawing the couch the way my cat Luna does when she gets excited (get off the couch, Luna)."

The characters in this book are finally starting to yell again, so loudly that I can actually hear them, and I've been writing as hard as I can before the blocks rise again. Pulling myself away to work on the short stories has been also fantastic.
brightlotusmoon: (Default)
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Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, officially. But technically, My Little Pony came first, because I got Pony toys for my fourth birthday and didn't start paying attention to the Turtles until I was nine.

I started writing TMNT fanfic when I was eleven, before I even knew what fanfiction was. The first live action film came out on my eleventh birthday, which inspired my first novel-length fanfic. The following fanfics, over my teen years, were shorts and snippets that were stand-alone. I did a lot of "Scenes From" bits that never went anywhere.
I got my first computer at 14 and transitioned from electric typewriter to printer. But it wasn't until I was 18, in college, and participating in email mailing lists that I started getting into online fanfic publishing. I made a name for myself with two specific novel-length fanfics; apparently they're still mentioned in fandom 15 years later but they're hard to find now that their host sites are gone; I should have saved them. A few people in the fandom told me that my fics changed their perspectives about Michelangelo permanently, since I wrote him in such a unique way. The last time I read those stories I cringed in pain, because they were full of adolescent angsty fan stuff that I assumed was needed for all fanfiction. But writing them was a good way to hone my skills, especially with drama and suspense. In fact, I still have random dreams based around my own stories, which I use as fuel for stories with my own original characters. Giving Mikey psionic powers opened many creative doors in my brain.
I participated in online forums for a while until I couldn't keep up. When the 2003 re-launched cartoon aired, I watched it diligently and adored it in a way that never happened with the 1980s series. The 2003 remake was gritter and much more in tune with the original Eastman And Laird comics. I loved the portrayals of each character, the addition of Mikey's kitten Klunk, and the relationship between April and Casey. I was a major fab once again. However, the last season was a disappointment and I understood why it was canceled.
I keep hearing of a new TMNT cartoon being made and I'll totally watch it. I'll even watch the *grinds teeth* Michael Bay film, mostly so I can see how much Bay will destroy it. I stopped reading the comics a while back after Kevin Eastman left and Peter Laird made some bizarre changes. How is that going, by the way, fans who are still reading?

As for My Little Pony, I watched all the old cartoons and films, and I have three Year 2 toys from the 1980s (Skydancer, Glory, Windy), but I didn't rejoin the fandom until a few weeks ago, when "My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic" came to Netflix. I had seen the premiere episodes in 2010 when they aired as a pilot movie, but didn't give it much thought afterward. Then one of my best friends mentioned that all the first season episodes were on Netflix, so I dove in. I was slightly creeped out by the animation at first, but I recognized it as being similar to other shows and quickly got used to it. I very quickly found my personality equivalents in Fluttershy and Twilight Sparkle. Before I could help myself, I was blogging gleefully about episodes, characters, quotes, and the concept of the "brony" and "pegasisters" fandom. I didn't realize that such a massive, loyal, and slightly rabid fandom had built in the last couple of years. I don't want to delve deeply, but I'm happy to skirt around the edges of this fandom.

TMNT and MLP are still fandoms I am active in to a degree, just not in any hardcore way. I don't post on forums or write fanfiction anymore, but I am always happy to discuss characters, episodes, and storylines with other fans.
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Whatever fits into my purse, whichever purse that may be, they're all kind of similar with zippered compartments on the outside and inside and such, because my things must have secured organization on the outsides for quick access; Stone Mountain is a good brand for that, which I always found on Ebay for next to nothing.
Here is a perfect example:

There are the usual basic essentials: Wallet, cell phone, keys. Then there is balm or salve, including several organic lip and skin balms. Makeup, which includes concealer, eyeliner, lipstick, lipgloss, eyeshadow, mini mascara. Pens and paper. A mass market paperback book. Hand sanitizer. Deodorant, organic spray or mini or both. Travel toothbrush and toothpaste. A sturdy comb or foldable hairbrush. A mini bottle of skin cleanser that can be used head to toe. A mirror. Medicines for anxiety and stomach upset. A small pill container. A very small plastic bottle that used to be an energy shot but which presently contains water. Napkins or tissues. And enough room for anything small that needs a place to be put if I don't have a shopping bag or tote.

Mostly, though, it's balm and concealer and comb and toothbrush and tissues and santitizer, if nothing else other than the usual basic essentials. I never know where I will end up, so best to prepare. I could also tell you exactly what is in each purse pocket without looking, down to brand names and colors and sizes. Always have a way to cleanse, moisturize, and look presentable, because I never know if I'll find myself traveling with my husband on a job that puts us in a hotel, and I hate hotel toiletries.

I once tried to fit some stuff in a very small purse and it didn't work. There is no way I can fit stuff in my pockets. Also, when I was little and my OCD was kicking in, I would have panic attacks and obsessive thoughts if I left the house without a stuffed animal, because what if the house burned down, and at that age I didn't quite comprehend the idea that my parents could buy me a new toy. This is probably a carryover. House fires are one of my major nightmares. Hence, stuff in my purse. Also, a duffel bag already packed with clothes, next to my dresser.
I am still working out how to get the cats out of the house in an emergency. Also, we have rope ladders.
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1. Which god? There are thousands.
2. The really old ones or the newer ones?
3. If you mean the Christian god, I will just smile and sigh. That one really needs to learn his place. For example, Odin of the Norse pantheon could kick his ass with one eye closed. (ba-dum-ching.)

In general, with any deity, I would ask the following questions:
"Do you get bored being immortal? Any favorite methods of entertainment? What's the sex like?"
"What's your biggest failure so far?"
"No, really, why the platypus?"
"Is human life just the biggest fuck-up in this universe, or does it actually mean something?"
"Do you really have favorites among your human followers? Why? We're probably not even worth it. Wait, are we worth it?"
"If a star goes supernova, can you hear it explode, even though there is no sound in space?"
"Can you actually help me win a lottery, or is that total bullshit?"

I don't expect anything regarding the platypus.
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Two thoughts on this, particularly if I could have control and do both:

Future: If I could avoid any kind of paradox, I would travel a few months into my future, to see if I get approved for disability benefits, to see when I finish The Novel and if it would become published, to see how life will turn out in general, to see what's happening with my health and my husband's health and my friends' lives. I would then travel several decades further, to see how the country and the world is turning out.

Past: If I could avoid any kind of paradox, I would travel about six months into my past, to warn myself to save more money, to continue working with the specific companies who'd hired me for freelance copyediting, to not worry so much about finishing The Novel, to write and finish specific short stories within a better time.

Really, what I would want more than time travel would be clairvoyance and precognition that I can control, especially if I can see within my own personal timeline. I am terrified of the Unknown, which is the source of most of my anxiety disorders. The Unknown would include the normal human concerns: Health, finance, creature comforts, personal success, surviving. My OCD and ADD, while both mild, tend to make the anxiety worse, leading to me making choices that I probably shouldn't, or the exact opposite. Therapy and medication and holistic treatments help immensely, but mistakes will always be made. I am absolutely one of those people who enjoy spoilers, and one who would absolutely want to know the future, to make more smart choices and less stupid choices.
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Nope. It could be called Keeping One's Mouth Shut. Also, tact. It's a useful skill that tends to disappear in certain situations where people probably should not say exactly what they think.

In other news, I'm so far behind on checking in with online forums and communities that I realized I don't really care anymore. There was a very stupid fight that happened in one chronic pain forum that had me facepalming forever, probably because it was one of the most one-sided, immature, misguided, NO YOU kind of fights I'd ever seen. Something about paranoia and clinging to supporters and an amazing display of childish whining without self-helping. Good thing it's over. I still want to smack the immature party in the head, but they left the forum permanently. Oh, well. Perhaps the other person, who was completely misunderstood, should have lied by omission just to save everyone the headaches. I've gotten to the point where none of it matters. Unless they are truly my friends and affect me in any personal way, I've stopped caring.

My head still hurts. It is ridiculous. Tea will help. Everything works better with tea. (My favorite is the Sea Buckthorn Berry Blend Cocktail; it has rooibos, roses, and superfuits.)
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Augh, fatigue. Oh, fatigue, Oh. I would rather have the pain.
Wait. No. Maybe. I don't know.
A secret: I am terrified. I have been writing short stories. I plan to submit them to online magazines. I have finished Chapter Twenty in the book, and now I'm struggling to make the words come out the way they need to. I want to beg every writer I know to tell me how they do it, how they make the imaginary people in their heads talk enough. Asking for help feels strange. It always feels strange.

Adam is going to be home Saturday morning, so my mind is consumed by that. Perhaps I can twist and transform that into something between Dana and Ian. It's just the words, the words. I see everything like a film in my head, but I've never written a screenplay, and novels are about words. That sounds too easy. Dear writers: Help?

I am just so tired right now.
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Any cheese pizza from anywhere in New York City and the boroughs. Although, I am partial to Patzerias Perfect Pizza in Manhattan. Also, the Margherita pizza specifically from American Pie Pizzeria in Bridgehampton, New York, in the Hamptons.

Tonight's dinner included Adam's amazing handmade pizza with whole mozzarella and local Monocacy Ash goat cheese, on top of a garlic basil marinana. with Parmigiano Reggiano sprinkled on the bottom of the organic crust.
But it still wasn't a New York pizza.

Damn, I miss my birth home. We won't be in the Hamptons until November, and then for less than a week. But I will see my parents and eat amazing pizza, and that is what matters. Also, this Thanksgiving will be my and Adam's twelfth anniversary as a couple. We will have been married for officially six and a half years. That is worth a celebratory pizza In the Hamptons.


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