remembrance

In the small, dim hours of early morning today, I dreamed about an old friend who took his own life a year and a half ago.

I was at a party, a crazy Goth/Victorian-inspired masquerade party that took up a warehouse and the surrounding grounds. I was there with my real-life partner-in-crime. But then two other women approached and started shouting at him about cheating on them. And then all of a sudden Sam was there. He took me by the hand and led me away from the argument, out of the party. We got in his car and drove and drove, for what felt like hours, talking and deciding what to do. We eventually stopped at a hotel for the night, at which point I realized I'd left my tote bag at the party. Sam assured me it would be there the next day when we returned for it. He got us a room. In the stairs he handed me a baggie of pills, four different kinds, and said, "Please don't let me be responsible for these." At some point I wandered out onto the giant patio in the middle of the night. There was a group of people out there who said they were vampires and started threatening me, and again, Sam just appeared and took me away from the uncomfortable scene.

And then I woke up.

Sam in the dream was always there for me, just like he and I were always there for each other in real life, when we were close. He would come over and cry on my shoulder when he had an abusive encounter with his ex. I would go to him when I was stressed, when I was uncomfortable with what was going on with whatever relationship I was in. We slept together when we were single and would go out to brunch the next morning, always simply good friends regardless of what had transpired the night before was just sleep or something more. We were important to each other.

At some point, we started depending on other people more and each other less. We grew apart, like people do. I hadn't spoken to him in several years before he decided he was finished being on this earthly plane. I blogged about finding out about his passing, in March of last year. But that dream this morning hit me like a punch in the gut. I woke up and remembered he was gone and I ached to talk to him one more time. In the dream, when he took my hand, his palm was calloused just like they were when he was here. It's rare for me to remember physical sensation in my dreams, but I remember that. And that physical detail recalled the hurt of him being gone just as much as him being there for me did.

I don't know what else to say about this. I don't think any of us ever truly reconcile ourselves to the idea that someone we love decided to take themselves out of this life. I miss him, and I love him as a good friend still, and I wish I could talk to him again.

colorful but passing out

Odd dreams the last couple nights. In one I lived happily in a small town, the kind with sweet little antique shops and bookstores and cafés lining Main Street. I was sitting out front at an open-air restaurant at a long time with a group of friends. It was an idyllic moment: good company, good conversation, good food, good wine.
Last night there were two. The first one I only remember a flash or two. I was visiting friends at a decrepit, moldy house with my oldest goddaughter. It felt dystopian somehow, like the whole world was just scraping by. Then later I was at a riverside house. I was wearing all dark shades of blue: sweater, skirt reminiscent of a tutu, two layers of tights, leg warmers. It was cold out. We had to leave for some reason, so I went out onto the riverfront deck am stripped off my tights so I could put my feet in the water. There was a floating railroad tie chained to the deck for people to hang on to while in the water; I tried to put my feet on it hit it kept floating away. And then the fey rose from the dark of the river, pale and bloated and mysterious in their gold crowns, begging me not to leave.
And then this morning I dreamed about a serial killer. At first I saw the crime scenes. Then I watched him in action. He was tall, almost absurdly so, and slender mop of blond hair, black close-fitting stretchy clothing like a dancer. He waited at an apartment door until the couple opened it to leave, then knocked out the man with a kick to the head. Then tied the woman to a chair and began tormenting her; not hurting her, it was clear that that was to come and he wanted her well and truly freaked out before he got to the physical part. The aesthetics of the apartment looked very '80s to me. The way the killer staged everything and treated his victim felt like a performance. So . . . murder as performance art. Strange. Thoughts, anyone?
I've also read a few books so far this year. Not as many as I'd like, of course, a few is better than none!
1) TD by KA. Not published, can't discuss!
2) BC by AJ. Also not published, can't discuss!
3) Borderline by Mishell Baker. This is a great book. Quality representation of disabled and mentally othered characters, plus fey folk! This is well written, interesting urban fantasy with a good story and interesting characters. I would have liked the climax and denouement to take a little longer, but that's my only quibble. If you're looking for an urban fantasy, give this a shot!
4) Friends with Boys by Faith Erin Hicks. I can't say much about this graphic novel without giving something away, but there's a lot here for people to relate to. A smart teenage girl, family issues, navigating new friendships and the aftermath of old, all with a nice paranormal layer on top.
5) Roses and Rot by Kat Howard. No spoilers, since this isn't out yet. It's about relationships, about the ties that bind, about the power of art and of magic, about how far some people will go for success. This book destroyed me and put me back together one bloody piece at a time. The language is beautiful and visceral, and there are some particular aspects to it that got me right in the belly, lungs, heart. I will come back to this book again and again.
That's all for me tonight. Time for some taxes and some writing.
Blood and kisses!

the breeze drifts on by

The world just keeps on turning, doesn't it? Whether or not you want it to, life just keeps on plodding along, and the commitments keep on stacking up, and the work, and the lack of time and sleep and energy. It's intense. And it's such a fine line for me. I am happy beyond happy that I am fortunate enough to spend all day every day working on books. To surround myself with story, with language, is a blessing. But sometimes I get swallowed whole by other people's stories, and lose track of my own. And that's what has happened for a good portion of this year so far. There's some irony there, in spending so much of this "year of me" on other people and their work so far.
Please don't take this as a horrible complaint. I take full responsibility for it. I, and only I, have made the choices I have made. I accept that. I accept them. I also accept the fact that learning how to focus more on myself, on my own wants and needs, is more than the flip of a switch that I thought it would be. It takes time. And effort. And frustration, and more effort. But I can get there. And I will.
Only two freelance projects stand between me and the time to write again. So I'd best hurry through them.
I think that part of the problem is a sense of validity. With my day job and my freelancing, I can go to bookstores and point out tangible proof of my efforts. I help other people improve their art. With the writing, there is no proof of anything yet. It's intangible. Which means that I don't always feel that it's valid to take time away from the tangible money-making tasks to indulge in the act I am most passionate about. Intellectually, I know that's silly; I need to spend time on my writing in order to improve, in order to find an agent, in order to sell books. Emotionally, even though I inch closer and closer to it, I think I'm still afraid of taking the plunge and truly focusing on it, truly pushing myself. I need to figure out how to get over that. I don't want to spend the rest of my life improving other people's art, as nice and fulfilling as that is. I want to spend the rest of my life improving MY art.
Anyway. A book and a dream for you, and then I need to get back to work. So without further ado . . .
9) The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater. Why on earth did I wait so long to read this book? I love everything I've read by Maggie, and this one is no exception. It's beautiful and sharp and cuts like a knife, and it hurt SO GOOD to read this. I love Blue and Adam the most, though the other raven boys are endearing, too. I love Blue's strange family, and how the weird is the normal, for them. I have the next book, and will read it soon. Some books/authors just cleave to your soul and never leave, and that's how I feel about this series and Maggie's Wolves of Mercy Falls trilogy as well. They turn me inside out, they make me cry and give me hope all at once.
Dream: Last night, it started with a little boy. I was on some sort of public transportation (train or bus, not plane) and he was with his mother across the aisle and I think one row of seats up. He was upset, and his mother wasn't succeeding in calming him down. I got tired of his wailing, and asked if he would like to sit next to me and color in my notebook with my pen. He and his mother accepted, and he sat with me for however long we were all on the train. And by the end of it I was fast friends with him, and his mother adored me. Then the scene changed; I was in a swamp, I think, surrounded by green trees covered with ropey vines that seemed as though they leaned down to greet me as I passed. I was working at some sort of waterside (partially floating) plant nursery, I think it was. I was moving potted plants, talking to people, that sort of thing, although it had a bit of a museum feeling to it as well. A gaggle of girls showed up, and in my dream I had flashes of memory about hanging out with one of them; we were good friends. She was the older sister of the boy I'd befriended on the train, and at this point I was friends with the whole family. I left work to hang out with the girls at the family's house, which was huge and labyrinthine. We were eating snacks from the fridge and generally being saucy girls, laughing and trying each others' clothing on and etc. Then I scene changed again, I was no longer at the house. I was maybe at my own? Although I don't recall what it was like. What I do recall is calling my friend, but her mother answered, and she wasn't there. "But Edward is, why don't you come over to hang out with him?" I was intrigued. I knew there was an older brother but didn't know him, so I did. I let myself in and went to his bedroom door and knocked, and when he said I could enter I slowly pushed the door open and he was laying in bed, only his face and a bit of dark curly hair showing. I gave him a flirty smirk, and at the same time I could tell that there was something really wrong with him that only I could fix. (Truly. This was not a "Fix the bad boy's attitude" thing. He was ill, or hexed, or something.) So I made friends with him and I was healing him with plants and such, and got so comfortable with the family that I was basically one of them, although Edward stayed fiercely self-conscious around me. For some reason I thought of him as the Sea King, though if that was true or not I don't know. I wish I'd stayed asleep through the end of the dream to see if I'd healed him; he was only partially better when I woke.
And now, back to work so I can finish these projects so I can get back to mine. Happy Thursday!

i need to clear my mind

There's a new moon today. About five minutes ago, actually. The new moon is a time for sowing new intentions. So tell me, world, what are your intentions for this moon cycle? My intent is to continue trying to focus on myself and my writing. Sometimes that necessitates taking a detour into a lot of freelance work (we all need money to take care of ourselves!), which is a bummer, but so be it. So this moon cycle is about focus and about looking forward, for me.
I dreamed last night that a very dear friend of mine had cancer, and that my parents and I were his primary caretakers as he moved toward the end of his illness. It was heartbreaking, but it was also amazing to spend such raw, honest time with him.
Several strange dreams recently: The previous night I was running a secret gambling hall set above a bar. Invite only, you had to be told where it was, etc. I lived in the space, so did a family of cats, and most of the people who came for the gambling were pool friends in real life. Another night I dreamed about the two children I used to take care of, but in my dream they were teens and living in a house in a smaller town residential neighborhood instead of an apartment in New York. Another night I dreamed about two tribes of post-apocalyptic survivors. Mine was a group of traders, salvagers, who lived in a rubble-filled city and kept giant ledgers of trading records. Nearby in the wilderness was a much more savage tribe that used sex and slavery as power tools. One of my tribesmen defected to (or was stolen by) the other tribe, so I went looking for him. Uncomfortable. And in another dream, the devil himself was leading me and a friend through an ever-shifting series of landscapes until we arrived at his home, which was a fancy, beautiful old mansion (think 1900s New York mansions on Fifth Avenue, not big sprawling English estate mansions). We were there so he could keep us safe, but then there was a big party and this other demon showed up on a rooftop terrace with my brother in tow, and I wanted to rescue him.
See? Strange.
Two books: 7) Copperhead by Tina Connolly. This is the sequel to Ironskin, which I quite enjoyed. I had a harder time getting into this one. The switch in main character had something to do with it, and I felt like this one was really slow in getting to the interesting parts. I enjoyed it, but I don't think it's a keeper for me.
8) Carnival of Souls by Melissa Marr. I've read most of the books Melissa Marr has out there, an generally, I really enjoy her work. (Especially Graveminder. That's one of the best fantasy books I've read in the last several years!) So I was excited to dive into this one. But it left me feeling very conflicted. Of the two main characters, I only liked one, which means I really struggled with getting through parts of this book. Aya really caught my attention. She's smart, and desperate, and willing to do what it takes to make her world better. Mallory, on the other hand . . . She's been kept in the dark about who she is for her whole life, and has a lot of prejudices that her father taught her. I struggled with her because she's weak, and (especially early on) whiny about her life. If there's a sequel, I'll probably read it; I do want to see where the story goes. But this one is not a keeper for me.
And now, I need to get back to my kimchi (I should really do a homesteading post soon about what I've been up to in the kitchen lately) and then do a couple hours of freelancing before I go to pool this afternoon.
Happy Sunday, lovelies!

nothing is taking me down

Almost two weeks ago, I woke up sick in the early hours of Monday morning. Aching body, tired mind, warm throat that felt swollen on the inside . . . Fun. As a result I didn't do much that day (well, I didn't do much for me), and as a result of that, I didn't sleep well. But when I did finally get some sleep, I had horrible dreams. The first one I have only a very vague recollection of, but it was about hanging out with a friend who was near to death from cancer. In the second one, the earlier parts are flashes of scenes. Walking around downtown in a town that looked like Eugene, sort of. Running up a muddy hillside in bare feet, with a dog at my side. I was wearing a dress. And then I was in a big homeless shelter that was built in the forest outside of town, it was a sprawling place of tubes and tunnels and stations within it for food and sleep and hanging out with people. I was walking around it with someone else, maybe I was doing an orientation with them? Or giving them a tour? Regardless of the specifics, a homeless man with a gun (a rifle or a shotgun or something) came in while we were there and shot a lot of people. The noise was horrifying, and there was blood everywhere, and people screaming. I saw two headless bodies on the floor. It was awful, and waking up from it was awful, too.
Well, I meant to blog that a week and a half ago, but never made it back here to finish the post. So you get a couple posts crammed into one. The sickness from the first paragraph didn't last long. Thank goodness, because the last two weeks were very busy. You see, I gave notice at my job, so they were my LAST two weeks at my job. My old company has hired me back to fill a higher position than the one I left a year ago, which is really exciting! Equally exciting is that I'm taking a week off between jobs, so today is day one of my time off. I plan to do a lot of work on my novels, and do a lot of work on my apartment, and get some exercise and play my instruments every day. And read! Speaking of, here are some books for you:
4) Buffy the Vampire Slayer vol. 4. I always love reading Buffy. Enough said.
5) Can You Survive the Zombie Apocalypse? by Max Brallier. This was a lot of fun. Max, who's an ex-coworker of mine, created a sharp, fun choose-your-own-adventure for adults full of zombie gore and good humor. I read through it a few times, making different decisions along the way, and really enjoyed it!
6) One Salt Sea by Seanan McGuire. This is the fifth Toby Daye book, and as always, this series left me a little brokenhearted for Toby. Life is hard and never gets any easier for her. There are flashes of happiness and brilliance, but there are also serious consequences to her actions, and difficult decisions. I wept at the end of this book. The sixth book is out, and I have it, but I decided to give myself a break emotionally by reading something else. Don't take my words as a negative review, though. I adore this series; it's one of the best urban fantasy series I've come across in the last several years. I'll keep these books forever and reread them every so often. Love these books.
This morning I had another strange dream. It was in the early years of the twentieth century. The suffragettes were a new movement, life felt somehow innocent but somehow complicated at the same time. My family had a large estate, and we were hosting some sort of party/celebration. I was wearing a simple, flapperlike dress, wandering around our home. A man cornered me--he looked like Philip Seymour Hoffman--and asked me to do a spiritual healing on his back. He took off his shirt and stretched out facedown on a settee in the hall. He had a giant purple bulbous growth on the back of his lower skull that hung down like an eggplant, and on the left side of his torso there were strange horizontal scar lines. He said that he could feel evil spirits living in the scars and asked me to pull them out. So I did. (I think I cast the evil spirits into a nearby houseplant, for lack of anywhere better to put them.) He thanked me profusely and a little awkwardly, and lumbered away after replacing his shirt. I went to the backyard. It was nighttime, and there was a swimming pool and many people around. I remember having a conversation with a young man, though I don't recall what about. There were several conversations with my sisters (my real-life sisters) and my mother (also my real-life mother). The extended family were not my actual family. There was something about riding somewhere in a car and being uncomfortable. . . . Something about a sport of some kind. Something about wanting to travel, or being envious of someone else who had traveled. And there were whispers about the suffragette movement, and I had a flash image in my head, sort of a black-and-white news reel, of watching women in uniform getting shot and killed. One of them was related to a friend of mine, a sister or mother? I saw her fall and then I saw a picture of her tombstone overlaid on her body, but it didn't have her name on it, because being a suffragette disgraced your family. At one point someone turned on a radio so there was music wafting on the breeze. And then an older gentleman in my family began to speak very negatively about the suffragettes, and I was all riled up (I don't remember why) so I started shouting at him that women are people too and deserve equal rights and how dare he treat his female family members like subpar humans, and on and on, and he scoffed at me so I said "Fine, maybe I'll join the suffragettes!" And he got very angry with me. I wish I could recall more of the conversations. I know I was in and out of the house several times with different people. I know there were younger children about, playing in the pool and on the grass.
On that note, my partner-in-crime isn't feeling well and is therefore already asleep, and I think I may join him in that. I hope everyone has a lovely Saturday night!

long time time coming

To wrap up last year . . . I'm embarrassed to say that I think I forgot a book. No, I know I forgot a book that I read. I got to thirty-nine. But I can only recall two I've yet to blog about, and the last book I talked about was number thirty-six . . . Bother. Here are the two I can recall:
37) The Fox Inheritance by Mary Pearson. This is the sequel to The Adoration of Jenna Fox, which I read a couple years ago and fell pretty hard for. This book takes us along for the ride with her friends Locke and Kara, the other two who were in the car accident with her. It's pretty intense, and tightly constructed. While I didn't enjoy it as much as I did the first book, this is still a great read, especially the moments when Locke is struggling to come to terms with who and what he now is. If you've read the first book, definitely follow it up with this sequel.
38) The Dark Crystal: Creation Myths, Vol. 1. Love. I love everything about the Dark Crystal universe: The characters, the animals, the land itself, everything. I wasn't disappointed with this graphic novel. It's a few different shorter stories strung together, which is fun, and Aughra is there, as always. I read this as part of my research for writing a last-minute submission to the Dark Crystal Author Quest, and can't wait to get my hands on the second volume!
39) UNKNOWN. Damnit.
So, diving headlong into 2014: I'm still struggling through my freelance commitments. One to go. I'm determined to take February and the early part of March off from freelancing so I can focus on editing my novels. And more ideas, I always have more ideas. There aren't enough hours in the day for all of the things I want to do, all of the stories I want to write.
Sometime early this morning I dreamed. I was in a fancy restaurant that I think was mostly empty.I was sitting across from a nice older man, he seemed sweet but somewhat self-conscious. Sandy brown hair. Kind eyes. His name was something fairly common, Richard or something. I don't recall for sure. We were talking, and when I paused in the midst of something, he handed me a ring box. He stammered a bit over his proposal while I opened the ring box, and cocked my head like a bird to look at the ring. It was made of some metal that was darker than gold, and had three sides to it. Two sides had a number of small diamonds set in two distinct patterns. The third side was one giant stone, a sort of orange-brown color with a million tiny facets cut into the face. There was a little card in the box that called the ring a huckleberry ring, or raspberry/huckleberry setting, or something. I looked at the gentleman proposing to me for a long moment. I wasn't in love with him. But he could provide something important: safety, security, home. So I said yes. He was very happy, and a group of other people came in and swept me up to prepare for the wedding. Some girls I know were in the crowd but I can't recall who. Then things get murky. Something about being outside, and a car, and maybe a dead body? And being questioned about my engagement/marriage. I mostly just recall sitting at the table and thinking it was okay that I didn't love him. That he was exactly what I needed.
And now, I'd best go. I have a bit more work to do tonight, and a busy day tomorrow. Good night, everyone!

tell mama all about it

Last night was not very conducive to sleep. Went to bed around twelve. Had a crazy intense dream. Woke up from that, and was so disoriented it took me a moment to recognize our bedroom, when my partner-in-crime came in to go to bed. I was awake for a while as he settled in for the night. The an hour or two later my darling little Zoe cat decided to go moth hunting. On the bed. Which was adorable, but kept me up for a bit. Then she wanted attention. Then we went to sleep. Then she woke me up later to let me know she was exiting the bed. I went back to sleep. Then the alarm went off to get up for work this morning. *YAWN* Needless to say, not a bad night, but a sleepy day after.
Without further ado, here is the dream:
I was in some sort of giant camp, a semipermanent thing, there were tents crammed together wall-to-wall, and lamps and rugs and such all over the place, and my partner-in-crime was there with me. I followed a path (I think someone was leading me, perhaps?) around and through tents and over other people's rugs, ducking under and around hanging lamps (the light felt very yellow for most of this), and then we came to a particular tent and that's where we stopped. There was an old woman who insisted I open a trunk (I think it was at the foot of a bed?) and put on a particular pair of boots from in there. I keep wanting to call them mukluks. They were definitely leather, with fur around the top and other decorative strips of fur around the ankles. My partner-in-crime copied me with the most similar pair of boots he could find. And then things . . . shifted. We were still in the tent, but it was fey folk and people all mixed together. And we sat down at this gorgeous rectangular (oak? pine?) dining table. I was at the left hand of this fascinating tree-looking man, he had appeared before us when things shifted and corralled all of us into sitting down at the table. (Think Pan's Labyrinth satyr, ish. But more treelike.) Anyway. I did something disrespectful, but it's hazy. Maybe I drank out of his glass? I said something impertinent? I know there was a glass in front of me as well, it was clear, with I think copper accents, and had a green liquid in it. Everyone had a glass like that. Anyway, I did something, he called me arrogant, and called two other fey over (they were tall like him, but hunched over and creepy and less treelike). They picked me up and carried me around the table while pinching me and tearing my clothing in punishment.
And that's when I woke up. I think that'll show up in a novel or short story at some point. Blessed be!

are you listening?

Settling in to another long weekend day of freelancing. No books to report, no exciting stories. I've just been working a lot. My last day at my old job was Wednesday. A lot of people came out to the bar after to say good-bye, which was really nice. I had hoped that this four-day weekend would be blissful down time, but since I'm behind on my freelancing, it wasn't meant to be. Next weekend is also a long weekend, I believe, so maybe I'll pull off a miracle and get my freelancing done by then.
The new job starts tomorrow. I hope I love it. I had a dream the other night that I started my new job and was given a huge, fabulous office with a window, but I had to share it.
Last night I dreamed. Most of it is fuzzy: something about traveling, on a train, and there was some sort of mystery or trouble. Here's what I remember: I was in a huge building (old apartment building, maybe?) that had a big, fancy, old-fashioned-looking elevator. I was in the elevator with another girl who was much younger than me, several partially full water bottles, and a cat (who looked somewhat like my Zoe). The girl was staring at this wall decoration on the back wall of the elevator. It was made of carpet, or some sort of weird thick paper, but if you looked closely there were words in the pattern. She said to me, "Bleeding heart isn't that much different from weeping eye!" (Maybe it was "sleeping eye"? I'm not sure.) I agreed with her and pointed out that we needed to find the other girl in our group, whose name I had trouble with but finally pinpointed as Allie. I kept trying to find a water bottle stiff enough to hold the elevator open if the door tried to close on it, but it wasn't working. Then a group of kids ran up and piled into the elevator. The cat ran, afraid of the noise. The kids asked what we were doing, we told them. A boy looked at us with pity and said, "You don't have your whole group. The elevator won't take you without your whole group." Then the kids commented on how crowded it was in there, and they closed the door in our faces and rode away in the elevator. So we went to look for Allie (and the cat). We went into this big auditorium on the ground floor, and there was a piano concert on, so we were twirling up and down the aisles trying to find Allie, and people were glaring at us. Oh, and earlier, I remember trying to make the elevator move, but I would just get a strange feeling in my stomach and the door would open on the ground floor again.
So that's that. Time to work for a bit, then do laundry. I'll report in later this week on the new job.
Blessed Be!

but in shadows it grew

I've been having a lot of strange dreams lately. I've always been a heavy dreamer, and my dreams often have narrative arc to them. butt he last couple of nights . . . Well, the night before last there are two I only remember flashes of. One, my sister J liked a boy with sandy blond hair. He looked like Riley from Buffy. All I remember is a flash of his face and then her telling me to leave him alone because she likes him. Two, I just remember Wil Wheaton following me around trying to be cuddly. (I know, I'm weird.) the third dream last night, I was staying at a boarding house in some northern town (in Alaska, maybe?) where there was often a lot of snow. The house was built backed up to a steep hill. I was friends with a boy who was boarding there, and he had an attic room. When the snow was bad we could climb out through his window onto the snow-covered hill. In the dream I was looking for him, but couldn't find him, and was blowing off a meeting or something to keep looking. The people who ran the boarding house were much older, and were shouting at me in quavery voices to hurry up and find him because I had things to do. At the same time, I was seeing a story about a mother and her son who were traveling to this town to live there, and partway there the son's dog ran away, and he was despondent about it. But then a couple weeks later the dog showed up and everyone was amazed. And hey, I just remembered dream number four from that night! I was at a gathering in this big house. (Yes, I dream about things happening in houses often.) I don't remember a lot, but I realized I was there because it was a cult ritual focused around girls who'd just had their first period. They would bring them to this house and take their virginity with a ritual tool for that purpose. For the girls it was a badge of pride to lose their virginity in this way. They were always decked out in particular jewelry for the ritual, etc. It was a big deal for them. I think I was there tying to learn more about it.
So, that was the night before last. Last night I dreamed about wrathful angels with swords (yes, this one definitely came from the book I'm reading right now). I don't recall what happened in the dream. What I recall is waking up terrified because I was sure an angel was in my apartment, and was there to kill me. When I finally fell back to sleep, I was at a partially destroyed house out in the woods. My sister R was there (in my dream she was older than me). She was wild-eyed, her hair was a thatchy mess. There were red stains on her shirt. I was trying to scrounge edible plants, etc., from the woods around us. R had a shallow Tupperware tub partially full of ground raw meat and was running her hands through it. Finally she called out, "We could cook some of the cat, but I think it's starting to go bad. It reeks." And she kept playing with it. (In the dream, this didn't bother me, but thinking about this morning really grossed me out.) I told her I didn't want any. Then a man (I was definitely still a child in this dream, so to me he seemed much older, but he was probably only around thirty) showed up and took me away from my sister. He took me through the wilderness and taught me much more about what plants were edible, how to find water, etc. We came upon a camp of people he'd met before, so they let us stay with them for the night. In the middle of the night, I woke up next to the blond man I was traveling with. There was another man standing over me. He was short, and wore a bowler hat. He said, "So beautiful" and reached for me. The blond man woke up and the short man pulled a knife. As they strained with each other over the knife, I pulled out the blond man's gun (which in my dream was more like a tube of toothpaste; you squeezed it to shoot it) and shot the short man right between his legs. And woke up. And saw a boy in a button-down and shorts sitting on the wood stove in my bedroom, and a tall slender man in a short-sleeve plaid button-down standing in front of him, gesticulating as he spoke about something. They faded after a few minutes.
Needless to say, I haven't been sleeping well.
Books: 33) Uglies  by Scott Westerfeld. this was a fun read, but honestly, I don't think I'll read the rest of the series. I just didn't get that into it. I know a lot of people love this series, so I had high expectations going into it, and it wasn't quite as good as I hoped/expected. 34) American Gods by Neil Gaiman. LOVE this book. This is only the second time I read it, and the first time was the year it was released (eleven years ago, I think). Long enough that it was only a hazy memory in the back of my brain. I love everything Gaiman does. I just think he's brilliant.
And now, I really need to put my head down and get some work done. Things in the office are so busy. We're all just scrambling to get caught up. Blessed Be!

these last weeks

The last three weeks or so have been pretty intense. There was the lead-up to my trip. And then there was my trip. I saw most of the people I really wanted to catch up with this time around, with one glaring exception. I got to spend a lot of time with my goddaughter and her baby, which was really lovely. I got a lot of time at Powell's Books, which was also great. And I got some good family time as well. I flew back home two days before Hurrican Sandy hit. I am thankful my flight was Saturday, not Sunday or Monday! But the storm means that this last week has been a weird one. There's been so subway service in my neighborhood for nearly a week now. A good portion of the system is up and running, but not my train. The office was closed due to lack of power all week, so my partner-in-crime and I have had a staycation. I know it's weird to talk about it like it's a holiday when so many people's lives have been just devastated by this storm, but that's the way it has felt. We got very lucky in coming through the storm unscathed. Today and tomorrow I'll be putting together a pile of items to donate to victims of the hurricane, and my office will probably be open on Monday. And that will be madness.
I gave myself a couple of lazy days at the beginning of things. The last couple of days I've really tried to be productive though. I'm purging the apartment again, and trudging through some freelancing work, and trying to get some novel work done as well. We also did ritual for Samhain on the 31st, just me, my partner-in-crime, and two friends. It was a nice evening, and a good ritual. Samhain is one of the two times of the year when they veil between the worlds is thinnest, so it's a good time for divination as well as contacting spirits. It's also our New Year, so the four of us wrote New Year's resolutions down and burned the slips of paper in a white votive candle. Did anyone else out there do anything exciting for Samhain?
I have two books to report, but absurdly, I can't remember what oen of them was. I know I finished a book just before my trip. But for the life of me I can't remember what it was. So when I figure it out, or when I give up on figuring it out, I'll report it on my recent reading.
A couple of strange dreams last night. First, I was at some sort of boarding school and was getting ready to leave, I think to catch a flight, but then my ex-girlfriend showed up. She was in mourning because her mother just died, so I decided to stay with her. There was something about a boy I was supposed to be meeting . . . something about him and a walk in the woods . . . it's all faded though. I also dreamed that I was still nannying for the family I used to work for, and while I was out with the kids Neil Gaiman called their apartment and left a voice mail for me. The gist was that my writing is good and I should keep at it. Then I left to go somewhere, and had my face done up, and was wearing some sort of weird spacesuit type thing, but the thing I was on was sort of a roller coaster. And someone passed me a gizmo to remove my makeup, only instead it screwed up my face so half of it was all saggy and veiny and unresponsive and awful. And I panicked about it, and they said they'd tell me how to fix it if I did something for them, but I don't recall what that was. The previous night I remember flashes of dreams. I was walking somewhere with Laura Bourgeois, out of a school building, and from an office there I'd retrieved a doll named Lettuce that was important to me for some reason. There was another dream about a baby I was holding, though it wasn't my baby. And I know there was a third dream, but I can't recall what it was. . . .
Anyway. I need to shower and get some work done. Blessed Be, everyone, and I hope you're all doing well.

there is a lock and key

Yesterday my grandmother had back surgery. Everything went well, and I'm looking forward to further updates today. I spoke to her the evening before, and she told me she was drinking. In the background, a good friend of hers piped up with, "You should drink a lot!" My grandmother said, "Well, I don't think I should be hungover for surgery," and her friend said, "You never know, it might!" Love it. Seriously, though, I'm just glad it went okay.
In other news, I'm going to create a pull list today at my local comic book shop. Because, you know, I need more reading material!
And, a dream for you: The other night I dreamed I was in this weird little apartment with my partner-in-crime. I think we had just moved in, maybe. Anyway. I glanced out the window and realized there was a little girl out there. Upon further inspection I discovered that we could climb out of our windows for roof access. It was snowing. I wandered the rooftop. There were people all over, doing their laundry, cooking over open fires, etc. That little girl I'd seen through my window told me that I didn't get any private roof space. I found a computer and got on gchat, but my friend K wasn't responding, and then I realized I hadn't heard from her in a while. So then I became concerned that she was missing. I went back inside my apartment, out the door, down the stairwell (big, ugly, echoing space with chain-link fencing in sections) and outside. Where it wasn't snowing. Nor was it even particularly cold. My neighborhood was a warehouse district, all hulking buildings and nearly empty streets. I picked up a length of piping that lay nearby, to protect myself if necessary, and start wandering around, looking for K. Who I didn't find in my desolate neighborhood. What I found instead was a gang, who didn't take kindly to me being on their street. They called themselves the K-inians, which was a clear reference to my missing friend, so I tried to talk to them about her. But they were angry. One of them grabbed me, making me drop the pipe, so I started calling up my magic energy to blast him. Then my partner-in-crime showed up, pulled me away from the gang, and we took off running back toward our apartment. That's all I remember. Last night I dreamed about being a spy, I think. It's all very hazy and unclear.
And now, it's time to get to work. Happy Tuesday, everyone. Blessed Be.

my love has concrete feet

I've not slept well for the last two nights, so I feel a bit vague in my head. I'm sure it'll pass, but it's frustrating to be tired and lethargic when I have so much to get done. Last night it was mostly Zoe who kept me up, plus a sudden downpour early this morning. The night before it was partially Zoe and partially a strange dream or two (including one where my partner-in-crime and my best friend were driving me to the airport but then decided we had to stop for church service, and I was really frustrated and couldn't find my pocket watch, and then they disappeared and I thought I was going to miss my flight), but it was mostly my new recurring dream. Once every week or two, I dream that there's someone in my apartment. It's the same someone every time. Sometimes it bothers me, sometimes it doesn't. Next time I wake up from that, I'm jumping straight into a ritual to figure out what's going on.
I'm slamming through a lot of freelance work right now as well, so there hasn't been any writing or much of a social life. I did go to paintball on Saturday evening for my partner-in-crime's birthday party, followed by the bar. Paintball was more fun than I thought it would be, honestly. And I walked away with only one humongous bruise and several little ones!
Even though I'm so busy, I'm still trying to simplify, to get back to the things that are important to me. After I finish this copyedit tonight I'll have more time, so yoga twice a week will start again, and I'll start back up with both novel and short story writing, as well as clarinet and bass. Don't worry, I'm not doing all of that every day. There's not time for that. My music concept right now is clarinet Monday/Wednesday/Friday and bass Tuesday/Thursday. Weekends are up in the air. I think I need to approach my writing the same way. Novel work on clarinet days, short stories on bass days, weekends are flexible. I'm going to try it.
I think my trip home will happen sometime around Halloween. My goddaughter's baby should be out of hospital around then, and I think it's decent timing for the other people I would like to see. Now I just need to find a reasonably priced plane ticket.
Here's what I've been listening to lately: the Romeo + Juliet soundtrack, Amanda Palmer's Theater Is Evil, and "Heavy in Your Arms" by Florence + the Machine.
And now, time to drink some coffee and get a lot done. Blessed Be, everybody!

i won't keep what i can't catch

Last week was a little crazy. I had a good time with JT. Since then I've been really busy at work and in my spare time, and to make that harder I've been feeling a little under the weather. I still need to find the right balance, apparently. But, books! That's what last week was all about, and I got a few at BEA that I'm REALLY excited about. Here are my top five: The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater, The Darkness Shows the Stars by Diana Peterfreund, The Diviners by Libba Bray, The Curiosities by Maggie Stiefvater, Tessa Gratton, and Brenna Yovanoff, and Carnival of Souls by Melissa Marr. There were a lot of great book giveaways this year, and I definitely came out of BEA with more books than I intended to. It's just hard to stop myself when there are so many good-looking books around!
On the unfucking my life end of things, I haven't made a whole lot of progress at home. I've done some reorganizing in the office, and established that the printer LG gave me last fall does in fact work just fine with my laptop. At work, though, I've made quite a bit of progress. I've recycled a lot of old materials. I now have a pile of copyedited manuscripts to return to the editors. I've put some more recent material up on the shelves, so I need to finish that, and mail some things I've accumulated for other people. Progress! It definitely feels better in my office.
I have a book to tell you about. 19) A Local Habitation by Seanan McGuire, second book in the October Daye series. I love the characters in this series. Toby is so flawed, so easy to empathize with sometimes. Some of the fey characters are great, like Tybalt. I liked a lot of the characters in this one. And I enjoyed the writing, as always; it carried me effortlessly through the story. But the story itself was a downer. Toby pretty much completely failed at what she set out to do in this novel. A lot of people died. There's a lot of sadness, confusion, deception, and anger in this one. This certainly won't deter me from the next one--sometimes a series has to go into a dark place for the character to learn what's necessary--but I really hope the next book in the series is a little less sad.
I had a strange dream the other night. It was so long, I don't have time to type out the whole thing right now. In a nutshell, it was about being kidnapped and held in one room with my sister J and two younger kids for about a year. But the dream wasn't actually that year. It was the moments leading up to my kidnapping, and then the moment of our escape, and then the aftermath of it. My utter inability to deal with the people I'd been close to before. That dream felt like it went on for hours, and was immensely emotionally draining. I was wiped out yesterday from it.
Anyway. I would love to keep babbling at you all, but I've got a lot of work to do today. So. Happy Thursday, and Blessed Be!

why do we

Happy Monday, all. How were your weekends? Mine was pretty good. Friday was writing time and then a bar with friends. Saturday was the Metropolitan Museum of Art followed by a Mets game and an evening out. Sunday was a beautiful afternoon gardening with my partner-in-crime followed by a good author reading at Word in Greenpoint. N. K. Jemisin and Paolo Bacigalupi. They were both very personable and entertaining, and there was a brief but good conversation about world-building after they both read from their new books. I am much more inclined to read Paolo's YA books now that I've seen him do a reading. Before last night I wasn't particularly interested, mostly due to the issues I had with his book The Windup Girl. 
And now it's back to the grind. It should be a decent week; work is heavily weighted toward the beginning of the week, so there'll be plenty of time to get everything done, even if it doesn't all happen on the day it's scheduled. I've got some fun things happening in the evenings this week (crawfish! writers group!) but there should be plenty of time to work on the novel and the apartment.
A book for you: 14) Skinwalker by Faith Hunter. I really enjoyed this piece of paranormal fiction. It involves some Native American folklore, plus the usual vampires and witches and such, so that was a nice breath of fresh air. The main character is interesting, with all of her flaws and contradictions. I can't say too much because I wouldn't want to give anything away, but I felt like the premise was well-executed, and I didn't see everything coming before it happened. I think my only complaint is that there was a little too much lust between Jane (the main character) and nearly every male character in the book. But I was willing to overlook it since the rest of the story was so enjoyable. Definitely recommended, and I'll be looking for the rest of the series.
Here's a question: Do you like my book mentions brief, as they are, or would you all enjoy them more if I went a little more in-depth about the books I'm reading?
Strange dreams last night. I had four familiars. A cougar, a bear, a fox, and (I think) a hawk. The cougar came to me first, while I was on the train. Which, understandably, caused a lot of panic. I thought the cat was trying to eat me, and I eventually managed to wrestle it into a headlock until the train came to a stop and the doors opened. After the other passengers disembarked, I released the cat and fled. I went to an information counter and started telling them to call animal control. And then the cougar sauntered up, like she was waiting for me to figure things out. Things are fuzzy after that, but I went somewhere and they explained to me that she was my familiar, and then ushered the other three familiars into the room as well. Later in the dream I was taking a walk in a snowstorm with a man and a woman, both of whom had brown hair and were bundled heavily against the cold. She was carrying a guitar, and as we crossed a bridge somehow slipped down the river beneath us. The man ignored her cries for help until he was done with what he was saying to me, at which point the woman (his sister?) had managed to climb back up. After that I can only recall a vague moment of someone shouting "Save the queen!" and I was there with my familiars. There was another dream earlier in the evening, I was at my old coworker M's house, and hadn't seen her in a long time. She had two beautiful little girls and was happily married, but her husband wasn't home then. We just chatted, and I played with the kids, and slowly other people trickled in like there was some sort of gathering going on. I remember being vaguely put out that I didn't even know she had children before I showed up at her house. And a third dream: I was walking somewhere to meet a couple of my friends (one of them was my friend J, but I don't recall who else), and my shoes fell apartment, so I snuck in through a back entrance to a shop and was trying their shoes on. I feel like the shop was underground but I'm not sure. My friends caught up with me there; there was a cute dog that we were all petting. I bought some sandals. We all went to this weird empty warehouse-type office building, and were all sitting around one room, and we all got sick.
And now I have to get to work. Blessed be!

like a ghost into the fog

That was a long but good weekend. Friday night was a fun drag show followed by a late night of good conversation with J. Saturday was the Drowned Ball; my five cohorts in crime looked great, and we had a really good time. Sunday was brunch and then a lot of freelancing and housework. And now here I am back at work again. It's a blustery Monday morning, very beautiful and Oregon out, and I wish I could just go walk through the city for a couple of hours. Ah, well, maybe later.
I dreamed last night about a little boy wearing a sea turtle costume. Maybe he was six, maybe eight. He was sad, or sick; somehow he was broken. A humongous sea turtle crawled up to him and said "I can make it all better if you come with me." It turned and headed for the beach, the little boy by its side. When they got to the beach, which was lined with people laying on towels and sitting in plastic beach chairs, the sea turtle ponderously swam out a little way and called back to the boy, who was standing in the shallows, "Call the tides!" I'm not sure what the little boy did but suddenly the waves were lapping higher and higher on the beach, crashing over the beachgoers, who weren't leaving. I ran down to the water, shouting to the boy, "Wait, wait! Stop!" Another woman appeared. She looked angry. She moved to the boy and spoke to him in soothing tones, encouraging the tide. Then she stood up and approached me. "Leave him alone. He is my child now." I protested and we ended up rolling in the surf fighting. We chased each other up and down the beach throwing punches and smashing each other's faces into the sand. When we finally stopped we were on the boardwalk near the beach. I looked out; all the people were gone and the ocean was calm. The little boy approached. He took the woman's hand and together they walked away.
And with that, I really must get to work. Next time: a book or two.
Blessed Be!

briefly

Sorry it's been radio silence for the last week. I've been sick all week, and it's really just taken all of my energy to muddle through the workday and my freelancing at home. So, just a couple brief things before I get down to work. Two books:

10) Where the Mountain Meets the Moon by Grace Lin. This is the sort of timeless middle-grade book that I adore. The writing is accessible but not overly simple. The story is great. The characters are easy to empathize with. It's really just a well-executed folklore novel. It's about a girl named Minli who sets out from her village to improve her family's fortune. Definitely recommended for everybody.

11) Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice. I've read this book before, but it's probably been fifteen years, so my recollection of it was more based on the movie than the book. The writing here is lush, the world-building is evocative, and the characters are intriguing, Claudia in particular. It really made me want to go back to New Orleans and live in the French Quarter. But Louis . . . he's whiny. And self-absorbed. While I understand that of course he would come across that way, as the whole thing is from his point of view, it was still occasionally grating.

I'm now reading a book by Caitlin R. Kiernan, and after that I'm hoping to plow through some of my BEA books from past years, as that's coming up (only two months away!) and I'm definitely going again.

I have a freelance deadline on Monday, which means that next week I'll be frantically working on my novel rewrite before my next project lands. I may take most of May off from freelancing, tempting though the money may be. It's hard to be constantly working. But speaking of my novel rewrite, I think I am at the place where I'm ready to actually start writing again. I'm really looking forward to diving back into it.

Not last night but the night before, I dreamed that I was out in a park somewhere walking my dog when I was snatched by two guardsmen and hustled through a secret door into an elevator that swept me up into a penthouse apartment where my makeup and hair was done, and then I was given more stylish clothing. Then I was forced into a lunch date with a young man of some sort of royalty; apparently the royal family was looking for a good match for him. I was pulled partway through because I didn't give suitable answers to what the young man said to me. They gave my dog back to me afterward. A year later, he decided to look for me because I'd made him laugh. That's really all I remember.

And now I should get back to work. This weekend I'm hoping to fit in some shopping and a beer tasting around finishing my freelance project, but we'll see. Oh, and maybe a movie. Blessed Be!

hanging out with the dream king

Three dreams last night, or possibly one long one and I just don't recall all the connective tissue of it. . . . Anyway.

I was dying. Maybe. there was something wrong with my heart and my lungs, and my doctor said if I didn't die that day, I would start to improve, but that I would likely die. I was in the car--my partner-in-crime was driving--and feeling very weak and tired. We stopped somewhere to pick up my good friend J, who got into the front seat with us (it was a bench), put his head in my lap, and asked me not to die. The three of us went to a big outdoor picnic area, where we were having a gathering of all my friends. (Here's where I'm missing a bit.) The next thing I remember is fleeing the picnic area because a bear showed up. We were running up a mountain, through pine trees, and I was carrying somebody's child. We finally found a slender pass between two rock walls that we could barely slip through, leaving the bear behind. I was trying to calm the child, who seemed oddly intelligent for someone as young as he was. (Here's where I'm missing a large bit.) Then I remember being in an airport with my family. I don't actually remember who had just arrived. But we left the airport, and for some reason I went to this empty house that I was supposed to clean up/take care of, and I didn't. I slept a lot, ate what I could find when I was hungry, and generally hid from the world in this house. Until the day the movers came and I hadn't dealt with anything. The neighbor came over and found me in the closet, and together we started packing up the house.

Dying, running, and hiding. I wonder where all that came from.

all that i ask

Last night I dreamed that I was in some sort of reform halfway house for girls, with my friends A and C. We were the girls who hung out in the back of the room smoking cigarettes and talking when we were supposed to be paying attention. We were the girls who snuck into town after curfew. Etc. For part of the dream we were sitting on a table in the back of a crowded room smoking under a no-smoking sign. Then we were in a cafeteria, sitting at a long table, picking at our lunches and smoking and I had just found out I was pregnant. The father (one of my friends in real life) was really excited, telling everyone he knew and just beaming with happiness until I cornered him and told him I didn't know if I was keeping it. Then he got angry and asked, "Don't I have a say in that?" That's really about all I remember.

Happy Friday everyone! It's beautiful out right now. I ca't help wishing that I could skip out on work and go read in the park for a few hours. But, I 'm sure I'll get some days like that once summer Fridays start. Which isn't for another two months. Sigh. I can be patient . . . or I can try, at least!

Anyway. I need to be really productive today. Just thought I'd share the dream. It's been a while since I had a pregnancy dream. The first year or two that I lived in NYC I had a whole series of dreams about having a child. Her name was Cole; she had curly blonde hair. The dream last night wasn't anything like the Cole dreams, but it still reminded me of her. Anyway. Time to get to it. I hope you all have a good weekend!

since i could say

It's been a while. Sorry about that. There was too much work and too little time, and then a long weekend in Vegas to visit my sister and our grandparents. It was a great visit; sunshine, antique fairs, sleep, good food, four kitties, triominoes. I do feel a little recharged. But it was hard to force myself to go back to work. I think I'm still a little burned out. I know I'm still working on the concept of balance. Work, freelance, music, writing, relationships. Finishing the apartment. That's a lot to have going on all the time. And hopefully I'll get a cat in the next few days, there's that too. Word of the year: balance. Word of the month: frugal. Or maybe simple. I need to tone things down a bit. My goals for March are to make a serious dent in editing my book, do a couple freelance projects, finish my apartment, and get a cat. perfectly reasonable, attainable goals, I think!

I've been dreaming a lot, but not retaining much of them, which is frustrating. Bits and bobs here and there is all. Lorrie's birthday party, at a pool in a Vegas hotel. Moving into a weird interesting house with a skinny low-ceilinged library room in it, knowing there was a demon coming, and wishing that Buffy, Willow, and Xander were there. Playing in a clarinet quintet only I was sick and really struggling to make it to rehearsals. One I remember more of: I was in a car being driven by someone, we were being chased by evil wizards, I was throwing energy detonations at them with my hands out the window. We got to this huge mall-like building and ran inside. There was a grocery store, and I was prowling the aisles, stocking up on things like bread and ground beef that I could roll into balls to ground my energy bombs in. Samantha was there too. Then I remember heading into confrontation in a long hallway.

so, that's that. Strange dream snippets and short vacations and month goals. Next time I'll talk about books I've read, but for now I need to get to work. Happy Thursday!

the war isn't over

The last couple of mornings I've woken up slowly, groggy, remembering only snippets of my dreams. A party, a rock band driving somewhere in a van, a board game . . . the more I try to remember the hazier those snapshots become. The restlessness is back. It leaves me tired, jittery, dissatisfied. And unsure what to do about it. I'm heading to Vegas to visit my sister and grandparents next weekend; hopefully that'll help. Or at least recharge my batteries a bit. I'm a little burned out, honestly. It happens. I'd like to make the time this weekend to rewrite the last chapter of my novel so I can give the remainder to my writers group for feedback. I'm looking forward to starting the editorial process for this one when I get back from Vegas. While I'm traveling, I think I'll poke at Emmelina, see if I can sort out what happens with the witch in that one. And I plan to read a lot, and sleep.

Happy Thursday, all. Thank goodness it's almost the weekend.