Okay. So for ME, it has been way too long for a blog post. I have 2 posts that I put up on my blog at asssuck, oops I mean myspace, but I've not the balls to post one of them here yet. I'm such a sentimental wuss. I wrote it in a retrospective sort of voice, like thinking in the same miserable train of thought process that I still tend to occassionally get caught up in today. I wanted to "exorcise" the demon, so to speak, so I wrote all about it, y'know? But maybe another time, eh?
Yesterday, when I got ready to get in my car to pick up my spawn from Spawn academy, I was PLEASANTLY surprised by the UPS truck. The deliverer of goods had my copy of Kelley Eskridge's "Dangerous Space" ready to hand over to me, and I was FILLED to overflowing with joy. I had not expected to receive it so soon, Kelley had sent me an email stating that it may be a week until I got it. She had offered to give a copy of Dangerous Space to the first two who left a comment on her blog saying that they wanted it, and it's so fucking funny actually, because, I almost didn't do it because I saw that there were already 2 comments on her blog, and I was crushed. But the rebel in me yelled, oh boy howdy. She/he/it said, "Go back there and see who won!!" So I did, and was delighted to see that the second comment was from Kelley, only responding to the first comment. So needless to say, I jumped on that bandwagon like Meriadoc Brandywine and Peregrin Took to Gandalf the Grey's wagon o' whimsical fireworks.
There are a series of short stories in Dangerous Space, including of course, Dangerous Space itself. I haven't finished reading it, I'm taking my sweet and luxurious time on this baby, like I did with Nicola's Ammonite, so's I can let it linger upon my person, like a fancy 1,000 dollar wine I've never drank. Strings had me crying like a baby. Kelley's writing is pure emotion, in it's rawest form. Her ability to explain the feelings of alienation that she experiences are almost too much to bear. I couldn't help but feel the need to put the book down and take lots of deep breaths, and cry a bit too, y'know? I don't know how 2 awesome entities of being manage to share one roof together. If ever they were to deepsearch one another, the soestre born of that would be the essence of sunshine and unicorns and all things glittery. With a huge can of ass whoop.
And to add to this pleasantry, I know who is the "book-loving generous soul" behind the curtain, and was deeply touched and moved at the kind message left with the Amazon receipt.
Hi, Rachel. I hope you enjoy these stories. They are very close to my heart and it makes me feel lucky that Kelley wrote them, and happy to be able to share them with the world.
I have yet to thank this wonderful entity personally. But I too, am thankful that they are being shared with me as well! And I'm thankful for people like YOU, if you are reading it "you know who!"
Other such news, I'm out from my imprisonment of revisions temporarily. I've decided to rework one of my works, and it's all about the esp flow again, cause Erica was just talking about taking your shit to the sacrificial gods of the pyre and doing it all over again. Thousands of words like the dust that we all are in the wind, yo. It fucking blows, but I somehow feel reinvented. Like I've been newly forged in the fire, my blade's all sharp again, right? For now....I anticipate the moment I become dull again, don't all of you, kinfolk????
I need to take my St. John's Wort and Omega 3's, but it can wait til I'm done here, I s'pose. Snookms bought a pull up bar on Friday, and my forearms hurt like a motherFRAK! I can't barely pull my head out of my ass, much less my head over the bar. I suck! But I will continue to try. I used to have upper body strength like MAD, back when I weighed 100 fraggin pounds, but now I've got all this girth to shift around! Stupid pull up bar!
What else, what ELSE!! Mom is in Tennessee, singing her audition. Wish her well in your thoughts, prayers or whatever else you wish well with, would ya? I'm so excited for her that I had a dream that I auditioned for American Idol this morning. I forgot my sheetwork (why in the fuck I needed "sheetwork" is beyond me) and Simon wanted to tie a sock round my neck. The whole time he kept judging me, I kept arguing back, "Who is HE to judge, oh ye of bad haircuts?" And then I'd say "What WERE you thinking?" with that sort of white gloved "tsk-tsk-tsk" kind of heir that Tiner Beaners so elegantly describes in regard to Katie taking steak over seafood kind of way. So I won. The battle of witts, not the the sing-a-song thang. I don't watch American Idol though, even though I always secretly want to. Simon's haircut makes me giggle in the same way the word "sammich" and "horK" do.
So like, if I post sporadically or very strangely and vaguely, it's because of revisions, and because I'm working several dare I say it? "WIPS". I'm trying to bury my head in this shit so it won't keep me up all night, calling my name so that I can't get any sleep. It takes me away from seeing spiders in my slumber-like awareness. What does it mean if one sees spiders in one's sleep anyhow? Is it bad? Good? Nothingness, like the Nothing of Neverending Story? They look like good strong hands, don't they?
Also, one last thing. I know Esseker! I watched Mirrors on Thursday, and oh boy howdy do I know her. More all about it later on down the line (maybe?)