Can You Vague That Up For Me?

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Archive for the tag “Gwendolyn Cease”

Monthly Goals Check-In: November 2017

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Okay, so this last month, I said, I’d…

  • Finish all of my scheduled blog posts. Yep
  • Write and practice my presentation on POV for the November GRRWG meeting. Yep
  • Finish the guest blog posts I agreed to. Yep
  • Finish my part of the holiday project. Nope
  • Finish the two very, very late Christmas presents. Nope
  • Finish sewing at least four holiday gifts. Nope
  • Continue the holiday shopping. Yep
  • Complete scheduled audio preps. Yep
  • Complete scheduled client edits. Yep
  • Finish building the last client website. Nope
  • Continue rewrites of re-release books. Yep
  • Read three more books. Yep
  • Sort the bedding and purge my clothes if I don’t finish that this month. Nope

This month I prepped 7 books and edited 2.  And I *gasp* took a last weekend off to go see my niece and nephew and their play. And I still have time to turn those nopes to yeps.

Okay, so for next month, I want to

  • Finish my part of the holiday project.
  • Finish scheduled audio preps
  • Finish scheduled client edits
  • Finish scheduled blog posts
  • Continue rewrites of re-release books
  • Progress on new WIP
  • Finish holiday shopping
  • Finish holiday sewing and knitting gifts
  • Finish client website
  • Sort the bedding and purge my clothes if I don’t finish that this month.

That’s it for me this month. Be sure to check out Gwen and Jess‘ goals, and good luck meeting all of yours!

I’m Thankful For…

I'm Thankful for...

I’m thankful for a lot of things, so let’s get to it.

I’m thankful I don’t have to cook Thanksgiving dinner (other than fancy green bean casserole). Because I really hate to cook (but green bean casserole is easy). And tasty. But I do get to eat Thanksgiving dinner. Which is great because I like to eat.

I’m thankful for my amazing family–both immediate and extended. These are the most amazing, hilarious, loving and supportive people on the planet.  And despite our wild differences, we’re incredibly close and I love them so much.

I’m thankful for my friends–my family of the heart. I’m so lucky to have these amazing people in my life. Without their love, encouragement, creativity, silliness, support, acceptance, understanding, honesty, strength, and therapy I wouldn’t be the mostly functioning person I’m attempting to be.

I’m especially thankful for my husband and kids. They’re the pieces of my heart that live outside my body. Sometimes, they’re lucky to continue living… *strangle strangle strangle* but I wouldn’t trade any of them – even when they drive me nuts.

I’m also thankful to have cats. They’re warm and cuddly little assholes. But I love them. And they make me laugh. Even if they do run away with my knitting needles.

And finally, I’m thankful to and for every person who reads this blog whether it’s the super rando flash fic, the stock photo rants, or the personal milestones and fuckery of life–whatever you’re here for, I’m thankful for you. And I’m thankful to all of you who read my books, too. I appreciate that more than I can adequately express. It’s a gift to be able to do what I love best, and I’m so incredibly grateful.

I’m sending you all love and hugs and wishes for contentment and happiness. Be sure to check out Jess and Gwen’s blogs and see what they’re thankful for.

Flash Fiction #69 – Girl by the Pond

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52888757 - shot of a gothic woman in a forest. fashion.

Gwyndon had no idea how she’d ended up at the pond again. It didn’t seem to matter when she decided to go for a walk or where she was when she decided to go. She found herself on the shore of this same body of water every single time. It was as if her conscious brain shut down and her subconscious kicked in. And for whatever reason, her subconscious thought this pond was a great idea.

She stared over the glasslike surface, the reflection of earth and sky–an impressionistic painting come to life. As it had since she’d been coming here, the water perfectly mirrored the world around it. But no matter how close to the surface she got, she never saw her own image. It was as if the water swallowed all traces of her.

She wished that were possible. That she could just disappear into the nearly perfect likenesses of bare branches and gunmetal gray clouds that marched slowly across the sky. It wasn’t that she wanted wanted to die or anything that dramatic. She just wanted a fucking break from all the stress. From wondering if her parents could continue to afford her brother’s medical care now that her dad had lost his job and their health insurance. From wondering if she should just drop out of college and get a second job. From wondering  if there would still be a world when she woke up in the morning or if the so called leader of her country would have plunged them straight into a nuclear war. What she wouldn’t give for just twenty-four hours of not fucking worrying about every little thing. But that would take some kind of miracle at this point to clear out the governmental corruption.

As she stared at the pond, an anomaly near the center caught her attention. It looked like a metallic point had pierced the surface of the water from beneath. And it was moving slowly toward her, barely creating a ripple. Worry twisted her gut, but her feet were rooted to the spot. She couldn’t run if she wanted to.

As the piece of metal drew closer, it rose farther from the surface, and she realized it was a sword blade. Eventually, the water and weeds sluiced away from the figure carrying the weapon, until a woman dressed in a long flowing white gown, tinged green by algae, emerged completely from beneath the surface. Rivulets of water streamed from  her hair like liquid ribbons, and her eyes slowly opened, pinning Gwyndon with her unwavering blue-green gaze.

She wanted to believe she was dreaming, but she knew she wasn’t. The cold damp of the ground chilled her feet through her canvas shoes, and the bite of the late autumn air sliced through the weave of her sweater. Her nose was cold enough that it had started to run. Yeah, she was definitely awake and in the middle of some fucked up mythical scenario.

“And the time would come…” The woman’s voice reverberated throughout the forest as she continued to hold Gwyndon’s gaze. “When the kingdom’s need was greatest, the sword would rise again and find its way into the hands of the king,”

She stared at Gwyndon expectantly, and Gwyndon blinked a few times. “I…I’m not sure you’ve got the right person. Or…even the right country.”

The woman frowned. “Do you deny that the land is in chaos? That the people are embattled? Tormented?”

Gwyndon shook her head. “No…that’s pretty accurate.”

“Then do you wish for the tyrants to continue to rule?”

If she could have moved, she would stepped back. “God, no!”

The barest hint of a smile curved the woman’s lips. “At times, the health of the body requires the diseased limb to be removed. Are you prepared to excise the illness.”

Gwyndon thought of her brother struggling to breathe, taking only half the dose of medicine he’d been prescribed in an attempt to make it last longer, and she nodded. And she thought about hearing her mom cry when she thought everyone else was asleep. Yeah, she was willing to do some excising if it would make things better for her family–save her brother’s life.

“I’m in.”

“Then take Excalibur, and remember: you and the land are one.”

Gwyndon stepped forward and wrapped her hands around the hilt, as a jolt of energy surged through her. Her back straightened. She’d do whatever it took. Hoping that Greyhound didn’t have a policy against taking medieval weapons on cross-country road trips, she watched as the women walked backward, vanishing beneath the water as silently as she’d appeared.

That bit of randomness is it from me today, be sure you check out the other bloggers’ stories.

Siobhan  *  Gwen  *  Kris

Top 10: Things I Believe to Be True

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Regardless of reality or science, these are just random things I believe to be true, And yes, I will defend them to my last breath. As always, there’s no order to these.

10.) Skynet is only slightly less terrifying than our current social and political climate.

9.) Long flowy hippie skirts are the world’s most comfortable clothes.

8.) Crocheting is a form of dark sorcery.

7.)  I have the best friends and family on the planet.

6.) Van Halen is the worst musical act of all time.

5.)  Math is tangible evidence of evil.

4.) Fuck is the most useful and versatile word in the English language.

3.)  Good lip balm is necessary for me to live a content and productive life.

2.) Spiders are Satan’s snowflakes. There are not individual species of spiders. Like snowflakes, each one is unique. They are individually handcrafted by Satan.

1.) I have the world’s best job, and I’m lucky as fuck to be able to do it.

So…what do you believe to be true? And be sure to check out the other bloggers’ lists.

Jess  *  Deelylah  *  Gwen  *  Kris

Wordless Wednesday – Autumn Where I Live

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Autumn, in Michigan, is stunningly gorgeous. And it’s my favorite season.  Though, there are days that I’m not sure why, since every year, it actively attempts to murder me.  (All photos taken by me.)

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Local apple orchard. 

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Farm near the orchard. 

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Autumn road. 

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Reflections in the pond. 

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Faery gold on the water. 

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That weird autumn light. 

Autumn roses in my mom’s garden. 

Changing leaves. 

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Changing colors under an autumn sky. 

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Peering through the reeds at Merlin’s Place. 

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Patchwork sky. 

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Secret woods.

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Autumn moon. 

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Homemade split pea soup. 

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The autumn survival kit: nebulizer, albuterol, inhaler, allergy pills, airborne, and Gypsy Cold Care tea. Oh, and Kitsune looking very concerned. 

Be sure to check out the other bloggers’ photos of autumn where they live.

Jess * Gwen * Paige

 

Flash Fiction #68 – Call Me Crazy

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This month’s flash fiction song is one I’d never heard before this challenge. It’s called “Call Me Crazy” by Travis Collins. The video is here and the lyrics are here if you’d like to give a listen/read.

Content warning: some violence and allusions to abuse. 

The dirt was clay. She fucking hated digging into clay. It was wet and cold and almost slimy. It sucked at her shovel, stuck into the treads of her too-big, borrowed boots, and made it difficult to get any real power behind the tool, but she’d manage.

Despite the damp chill of the October evening, she was starting to break a bit of a sweat, but that’s what digging a three foot deep hole would do to a person. Dusk settled like an old musty blanket, muting the changing leaves, and dulling the sky. Soon, the only light would be the running lights on his truck.

He’d be pissed if he knew she was letting it run with the doors open so she could hear the music while she worked. Of course, it was so old, it didn’t even have a cassette deck. And it was stuck on that fucking country music station. But, it was better than the eerie near-silence of the rapidly approaching winter–nothing but small animals rustling through the dried grasses and the honking geese up and leaving this desolate place, flying to warmer climes. She’d always wished she could do the same. But, maybe now, she wouldn’t need to.

She straightened as she surveyed the hole. It was finally deep enough. A shiver snaked down her spine as the chorus of one of his favorite songs drifted to her from tinny-sounding speakers. An audio ghost haunting her from a lifetime past. She pushed through the chill. Maybe it was appropriate this song was playing tonight. Though, it was more of a eulogy than he deserved.

Planting the shovel in the mounded clay, she walked to the back of the truck and dropped the pickup’s gate. Thankfully, the tarp-wrapped body hadn’t moved much on the drive out here. Rolling it to the edge, she dragged the deadweight over her shoulder, and hoisted it in a fireman’s carry. Bastard was heavier than she would have thought, but she’d gotten him this far, she could move him a few more yards.

A muffled groan startled her, and she nearly dropped him, but she kept going until she could fling him into the hole. There was a sickening crack as he hit the bottom, then nothing but the tail end of his favorite song and her harsh breath. She filled in the hole then drove over it, repeatedly, for good measure before shifting the fallen tree to cover the signs of disturbed earth. The same one she’d moved to dig the hole in the first place.

Sure, someone might find him someday. If they cared enough to look. But they’d also find the evidence of everything he’d ever done to her–every photograph, every video tape–all sitting in the middle of his kitchen table. Along with his muddy boots on the mat by the door and his truck parked in the driveway.

And she’d be gone. Long gone where the ghosts of the past had been laid to rest.

Okay, that’s it for me this week. Be sure you check out the other stories by clicking on each blogger’s name. 

Jess * Siobhan * Gwen * Kris * Deelylah

Promptly Penned: Glass Balls

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Prompt: While cleaning the attic, he/she finds a box of glass balls with names on them. One drops and as it shatters, a person appears.

 

Fuck my life. 

Emily looked around at the mountains of boxes, trunks and bags in the attic. This was not how she’d envisioned her mid-term break. When she’d agreed to stay on campus to assist the chair of the anthropology department, she never imagined it would involve cleaning out what was apparently a hoarder’s paradise in the woman’s attic. Yet, here she was…not only cleaning a hoarder’s paradise, but organizing and cataloging it, too.

To be fair, she’d accomplished a lot in the last four days. She’d collected all the random piles of books laying around and boxed and labeled them by subject. She’d organized a collection of tribal masks and another of elaborate early 20th century hats, She was still adding to the pile of medieval-looking weapons she’d leaned against the wall in the far corner of the room, and all the loose papers were just getting tossed in a box. Someone else could deal with that nightmare. But there was actually a decent amount of floor space now.

Setting aside a stack of crumbling newspapers, she found an old hatbox. Lifting it to place it near the other headwear, she heard clinking inside. Setting the box on one of the many tables in the attic, she lifted the lid. Inside, were tinted glass balls in a variety of colors. As she peered closer, she realized there was lettering etched on each one.

The green one read: Bruce Banner. A rose-colored orb was inscribed with the name, Elizabeth Bennet. The red with Hannibal Lecter. And the purple with Willy Wonka.

What the actual hell was this?

She carefully moved aside the ones she’d read to see what inscribed on the others. Éponine Garrod encircled a rust-colored ball, and Sherlock Holmes, the blue. Bella Swan was written on a clear one and Diana Prince on the gold.

Emily pulled out the gray ball and snorted as she turned it over. Christian Grey.

The clanging sound of metal hitting wood startled her, and she dropped the orb, the glass shattering at her feet. Heart in her throat, she whirled toward the clanging noise. One of the swords had fallen from where she’d propped it against the wall.

She turned back to what was left of the orb in time to see gray fog swirling and coalescing into the figure of a man wearing what she guessed was a pricy suit with a gray tie.

“Miss Anastasia Steele, I presume?”

She took a step back. What the fuck was even happening here? “I’m sorry, what?”

“You are Miss Anastasia Steele, are you not?”

“The fuck I am.”

“Language, Miss Steele. I don’t tolerate such coarse behavior from my bed partners. Now, fetch some decent clothing. Borrow something from that dreadful roommate of yours if you must.”

Emily stared at him wondering if an excess amount of dust could produce visual and auditory hallucinations. It was the only explanation.

“I’m not Anastasia Steele.”

He stared at him. “You’re  a college student. You’re clumsy. Who else would you be?”

Staring at him, her mouth fell open. How was any of this even possible? Maybe that clanging sound was her falling and hitting her head. Maybe she was unconscious and her brain was short-circuiting with this bizarre scenario.

“Time is money, and you’re wasting both. I’m a very important man Miss Steele. I have a helicopter and everything.”

Emily burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it.

“We’ll be taking Charlie Tango to your doctor’s appointment. You need birth control.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you, douchebag.”

Out of nowhere, a crop materialized in his hand, and he started toward her. This could not be real. But his very real hand closed around her upper arm and yanked her toward him. She tried to lurch away from him, but he held fast.

“I’m going to enjoy punishing you,” he murmured in her ear as he tried to drag her toward the door.

She look around for anything to use as a weapon. She was too far away from any of the actual weapons she’d put in the corner. Her eyes fell on the glass balls. She grabbed hold of the gold on and smashed it on the floor, hoping for the best. A swirling gold fog took the form of Diana Prince–Wonder Woman–shield and sword in hand.

Slowly she lifted her head, and her dark eyes fell on Emily then Christian. “You.” She leveled her blade at him. “Release her.”

“I will not. She signed a contract.”

“No I didn’t!”

Diana moved closer until the metal point rested on his neck. “I said, release her.”

Christian let go of Emily’s arm, and she scrambled away from him as Diana stepped behind him, keeping the edge of her blade across his neck.

“Are you all right?” Diana asked?

Emily nodded. “Thanks.” She gestured toward Grey. “Now what?”

Diana smiled. “Now, I take him somewhere he can learn respect.” In a swirl of gold and gray mist, they were gone.

And Emily immediately began looking for bubble wrap.

That’s it for me this week. Be sure to check and see what the other blogger’s did with the prompt.

Jess * Kris * Gwen

Top 10: Story Tropes

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As usual, these aren’t in any discernable order–I’m just writing them as they occur to me.

10.) Friends to Lovers – I love a good Friends to Lovers romance. All that angst and uncertainty and fear about screwing up a perfectly good friendship? Loooooooovvvvvveeeeeee. Then the awkward morning afters and the inability to deal with the whole changed dynamic in the relationship? Love that, too.

9.) Enemies to Lovers – Enemies to Lovers is one of my all time favorites. I adore people who are getting their hate on but are utterly and unreasonably attracted to the object of their loathing. That whole trope is just delightful. And delicious. And dickish, because they’re always dickish to each other in the best ways possible. If the plot has a side of Forced Proximity, it’s even better. And when they finally come together (no pun intended to have all the hate sex? I. Am. There. For. That.

8.) Coworker/Office Romance – There is something that I adore about Workplace Romances. I think part of it is the emotional and social risks they take to be together that really appeals to me. This trope is almost always closely tied with the upcoming Secret Relationship trope which I also love. There’s something really satisfying about watching these two people who have to work together–no matter what state their relationship is in at the moment that immediately grabs my attention.

7.) Secret Relationship – As I mentioned above, this one is closely tied (for me, anyway) with the Coworker/Office Romance trope. There’s something I love about all the sneaking around, the having to pretend everything is normal when they’re with family/friends/coworkers even though they might have just finished having mind blowing sex in the closet. There’s nothing I don’t love about that dynamic.

6.) Second Chance – I’m a huge fan of this trope. I love seeing relationships work out the way they’re meant to for people–especially when you can see how much they belong together. And I love when they work through legitimate relationship issues in a meaningful way and when there’s been emotional growth by both parties. Reunion books are a big love of mine.

5.) Scars and Angst – I would be lying if I said that I didn’t love me a matching set of monogrammed emotional baggage. Bring me all the angst! ALL OF IT! However, said luggage needs to be realistically written and all of those emotional issues absolutely cannot be solved by the magic peen or the magic vag. That’s a hard nope for me.

4.) Fairy Tales – I love Fairy Tales in all their iterations and romantic retellings are often a good comfort read. One of my favs will always be Beauty and the Beast–which is handy. A lot of people like that one, so there are some great versions out there.

3.) Geeky Romance – I know a lot of people love their alphahole heroes, but I’m not one of them. I’d rather read a good geeky romance that are populated by people who are so much like the people I hang out with, that often, the characters seem like old friends. Characters who are smart, may be a socially awkward and who are are passionate about their nerdy interests and each other, too, This is my tribe.

2.) BFF’s Sibling – This is another one of those that usually slots in nicely with Secret Relationship, because there’s always so much at risk there. Not only the romantic relationship, but also the BFF friendship.

1.) Fling to a Thing – Another fave is Fling to a Thing. You know the one–both parties agree that it’s just going to be a no-strings fling and then they get all the feels? But they just keep fighting it. That is a thing of beauty.

Bonus Item.) Student/Teacher – I really love this trope–with some caveats. Not the super sleazy kind with an unhealthy power imbalance, manipulation, or coercion. NOPE.

Okay, so share. What are some of your favorite tropes? And if you can think of titles you love that involve any of my faves, please share those, too! And if you happen to be riding any of the same trope trains as me, may I suggest…


Rewritten: Coworkers Romance, Scars/Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Geeky Romance

The Professor’s Student: Student/Teacher, Secret Relationship, Fling to a Thing

Drawn That Way: Geeky Romance, Coworkers Romance, Secret Relationship, Fling to a                                       Thing

Out of Sync:  Friends to Lovers, Fling to a Thing, Secret Relationship, Second Chance

In Bounds: Enemies to Lovers, Coworkers Romance,

Finding You: Friends to Lovers, Scars and Angst,

Unexpected Gifts: Friends to Lover’s, BFF’s Sibling,

Be sure to check out Jess and Gwen’s posts, too!

Top 10: Things That Set Me Off/Things Not to Say to Me

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Soooooooo…this month’s Top Ten post is all about how not to piss me off. These are in no particular order. They all piss me off equally.

Welcome to the unloading.

10.) The phrases; “But her emails…”, “How much damage can he do in four years?”, “There’s a system of checks and balances in place.”, “I’m not racist, but…”, “Trans women and men aren’t real women/men/are mentally ill/are perverted/etc”, “Global warming is a hoax.”

Just. Fucking. Don’t.

9.) Any iteration of  “So you write porn?”, “When are you going to write a real book?”, “So, like Fifty Shades of Grey?”, When are you going to write something I can read?”, “Are the sex scenes from personal experience?”, “How can you call yourself a feminist if you write romance?”

Again… Just. Fucking. Don’t.

8.) The Pain Olympics (not those horrible videos you can never unsee – seriously, do not google them)  also known as “One Downing” – there are always a few of these types in most people’s circles. Could be a co-worker, a family member, a person you deeply regret ever becoming friendly with, but they all have the same M.O.: You’re in the midst of what you think is a conversation, but before you know it, the Pain Olympics have begun. It goes a lot like this:

Scenario 1:

You: *sad because your cat died*

Pain Olympiad: “That’s too bad. Once, my cat was kidnapped and held for ransom and after I took out a loan for a million dollars to pay the ransom, they took my money and sold my cat to a foreign dictator who said he was going to make a hat out of her. At least you got to say goodbye to your cat.”

Scenario 2:

Coworker: “Hey, haven’t seen you in a while.”

You: “I’ve had a cold. Didn’t want to give it to anyone else, so I stayed home for a couple days.”

Coworker: *strips off work attire to reveal Pain Olympiad uniform beneath* “Last year, I got a cold and spent a three months in the ICU and the doctors had to take half my lung. You’re lucky you didn’t get that.”

You get the picture. Whatever it is, they’ve had it soooooooooooooo much worse, and they want to give you all the details about how their experiences are so much more horrific than yours. In normal conversation, we all share things to let others know they’re not alone in whatever they’re experiencing. One-Downing is a little different in that these people tend to be in desperate need of all the sympathy and acknowledgement that they’re the biggest and best victim of all.

7.) Vaguebooking. Either say it, or don’t. I get that sometimes people have things going on in their lives that they’d like to talk about, but they can’t because there may be other people involved, or they just don’t know enough about an upsetting situation to make a definitive statement.

What makes me beyond ragey is the vaguebooking (or any social media) for attention thing. The kinds of posts that are designed to make everyone feel like they need to fawn over the poster. Examples include things like:

“Well, I guess I know who my real friends are.”

“*sigh*”

“I can’t believe someone would be so mean.”

“Sometimes you have to learn who you can trust the hard way.”

Unless any of those statements accompany a photo of your dog stealing your steak, just don’t. If you’re having a bad day and could use some sympathy, fucking own it. If you’re pissed at someone, own that, too.

6.) The phrase, “Well, it’s not like you have a real job.” There are some people who are under the misguided impression that people who work from home don’t actually work and have all kinds of free time for things like babysitting, or driving them places, or endless phone calls, etc. Bitch, between writing, editing, coaching, audio prepping, website creation and maintanance,  and other client assistance, I’m currently putting in 12 -18 hour days, 7 days a week. Don’t tell me I don’t have a real job.

5.) I understand how incredibly difficult it is to find the right thing to say to someone who’s grieving, but I promise you, “God needed another angel” is never ever the right thing to say. Especially to those grieving the loss of a child.

4.) I believe that often adversity can make people stronger, more resilient–it’s certainly been true in my life. But that growth typically isn’t noticeable or appreciated until well after the fact.  So when others learn of something awful occurring in the life of someone they know, like say,  a cancer (or some other debilitating disease or life circumstance) diagnosis. Saying things like, “God doesn’t give us anything we can’t handle” or “You’ll be stronger for it” or calling a disease a “health opportunity” because you’ve got that life coach mentality is never ever the right thing to do. If the person in question expresses interest in your life coaching philosophy, bring it up then. But if not, calling a cancer diagnosis a “health opportunity” is not a road you want to take.

3.) Okay, so I’m a fat woman. This is not secret. I’m not particularly happy about it, but overall, I’m healthy (I have the test results to prove it) and I’m working hard on self-acceptance, and when I don’t financially need to put in 12-18 hour days, I’ll work more exercise in. If I make a crack or mention something about being fat, for the love of kale, please don’t say things like, “You’re not fat, you’re pretty.” or “You’re not fat, you’re so nice.” While, I understand that you may be attempting to be helpful or kind, the way that comes off is that you equate fat with ugly  and meanness. In addition to being incredibly hurtful, it’s not a good look for either of us.

2.) “This is a Christian nation.” Hard NOPE! One of the ideals this country was founded on was religious freedom and the separation of church and state. We need to adhere to that. STAT.

1.) Other random things that set me off are;

People who lie–especially when their story changes depending on who their audience is and what they want from them.

People for whom literally every last thing in life is a goddamn competition–not people who try to better themselves, people who have a pathological need to prove their superiority to others–even those they supposedly care for

People who are awful to their children and view them as extensions of themselves or belongings as opposed to individuals.

People who leave their animals out in extreme weather.

People who try to impose their religious views on everyone else.

People who constantly assume the victim role and refuse to take responsibility for their own shit.

People who plagiarize or otherwise take credit for someone else’s work.

Okay, so…I’m thinking I should probably stop now. I’ve got a ton to do today, and I need to get moving. Feel free to share what sets you off. An be sure to check out Gwen’s post and see what sets her off, too.

Flash Fiction #64 – Ghost

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This month’s song fic was inspired by Ghost by Halsey. If you’d like, you can read the lyrics here and/or watch the video here. 

“What are we even doing?”

Ryan sighed. “We’re trying to get some sleep because we have an early flight.”

A car drove slowly down the street, its headlights bouncing around the perimeter of the bedroom, and I shifted against the pillow I had propped up against the headboard. In the temporary illumination, I stared down at the man in my bed. My husband, I supposed.

It was weird. Like I was looking at him from a distance despite the fact that if I shifted, I could feel him next to me. But it was still as if I were looking at him through inches-thick plexiglass. Trick of the light or trick of my broken heart? The car fully passed, plunging the room into darkness again.

He wasn’t the same man I’d married. Though, to be fair, I wasn’t the same woman I was ten years ago, either. I knew why I’d changed. If you spend long enough kissing someone whose mouth is always full of lies, it poisons you. Changes your perception of everything around you–even yourself.

I missed the guy I’d fallen in love with, but more and more lately, I was wondered if he ever existed. The soul I’d loved had vanished, and in its place was an empty shell I didn’t recognize. And even more important, I didn’t like him.

His breathing had deepened and evened out as another car passed, illuminating the room again. The white fabric of his t-shirt seemed to glow. He was a ghost sleeping next to me.

But I was done trying to sleep. And I was done swallowing lies.

Be sure to check out the other bloggers’ stories. Hopefully, they’re a little more upbeat.

Jess * Kris * Siobhan * Kayleigh * Gwen * Deelylah

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