Author: Kiki Writes

Rumored to be a writer. Never hip. Land of Lincoln Cleavage Queen three years running.

2023 NaNo Winner!

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

For the 16th year in a row (out of 20 years with 17 total wins), I have crossed the 50,000 word threshold in 30 days officially making NaNo 2023 a winner. I hit the mark on the 28th and I used the last two days to finish up the first draft. Total words written in November will hit right around 53,000 and the total words for this first draft will be around 55,000 because I kept some of the original short story, but not all of it.

When I started working on the expansion of What Happened to the Man in the Cabin?, I thought I knew the story I was writing. By that I mean that I thought I knew what the story was truly about and where the ending was. And then I hit a point in the word accumulation when I realized that the story was actually really about something else and the ending wasn’t the ending. I had something of an outline written, but as I wrote, the story revealed more of itself and I ended up surprising myself, which always thrills me. It makes me feel like I actually know what I’m doing.

It also made the words difficult to come by about half-way through. I went from hitting my daily word count before heading off to my library shift to having to finish the day’s writing after I got home. I ended up gamifying my writing to get my words written in a timely fashion (I play a game that has ad breaks; every ad break, I’d write 500 words before I go back to my game).

It also didn’t help that I didn’t do a very good job of preparing my schedule for NaNo like I’d done in previous years. I failed to get as much podcasting stuff done before November and as a result, I ended up with a bit of a full schedule that made writing more of a chore than it should have been. That is not a mistake I wish to repeat and I endeavor to do better about that next year.

This year, though, is in the books. I have a decent first draft that I can work with to revise into something that could be pretty nifty. It’s so different from anything I’ve written before. Revising it will be interesting.

Meanwhile, my hope to keep up with That’s Punk while also doing NaNo did not work out. I made it about half-way through the month, but ended up failing due to other scheduling commitments. Thems the breaks. Hopefully, I’ll be finished with the first draft of that story by the next NaNo.

As for this NaNo, it was a little more challenging than I would have liked, but I’m not going to argue with the results.

I do love a winner.

Tales of Black Friday

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Despite working multiple Black Fridays in my retail life, I don’t actually have that many wild and crazy Black Friday stories. I mean I was still working fast food when when one of my friends and future coworkers got punched by a customer over a Furby and my sister witnessed three customers wipe out and eat shit running to get a Tick-Me-Elmo.

My first Black Friday, I was a cashier, literally trapped at my register by mobs of people in our little six lane Walmart scoring their deals, carts absolutely full of Christmas gifts. This was back when the store still had lay-a-way, too. There was only one lay-a-way computer at the customer service desk. That line was unhinged, competing with the two other lines at the desk. Sporting goods, electronics, and jewelry all had their registers open and running, too. It was stressful madness. All hands on deck. We absolutely were not paid enough to deal with that chaos.

The next Black Friday, I was a department manager in charge of automotive and sporting goods. One of my besties at the time was in charge of seasonal, which meant lawn and garden in the spring and summer, and Halloween and Christmas in the fall and winter. Our departments were next to the five aisles that made up our small Walmart’s toy department. This gave us front row seats to the two middle aged women who nearly came to blows over a Razor scooter. I had to be at work at 4 in the morning for this.

My last few Walmart Black Fridays were spent in the jewelry department. This was my last go-round and by this point I was a rodeo champ. I didn’t have to be in first thing (which was 3 AM one year) and I sure as shit wasn’t going to volunteer for it. I was good enough to do a 7 AM shift one year, but then 11 AM shifts after that. By that point, the madness was long over and the rest of the day was pretty easy.

I kept this practice up when I worked at The Limited in the mall. I was on the floorset team, working after hours to switch out merchandise and displays. Sometimes we’d only go in twice a month, but when it came to the holidays, we could be there every week. And we were required to work Black Friday even though most of us never worked when the store was open. My first year, I signed up for a four hour mid-shift and ended up spending the whole time folding clothes after people had gone through them. So many people didn’t even have the decency to even try to fold things again. They’d just hold it up, look at it, and toss it back on the table. It was the pricey clothing store equivalent of trashing a toy display to get the one they wanted. Utterly manner-less.

In my four years at The Limited, I only worked one other Black Friday, a mid-shift as usual, and it was pretty not busy. I spent most of my time walking around trying to look busy rather than actually being busy. The other two Black Friday shifts? I was called the morning of and told not to come in because they didn’t need me. I was very content to not be needed

I’ve never shopped on a Black Friday, not after working them. The idea of willingly jumping into that fray just to save some money doesn’t appeal to me. I’d rather stay home in my jammies and eat turkey leftovers.

And with internet shopping the way it is now, I can do just that. Have my Black Friday at home.

Curiously enough, though, I don’t. I rarely shop or buy anything on Black Friday.

Guess those deals aren’t as great when I’m not in danger of being elbowed by a stranger.

I Am a Universe Unfolding

~ Kiki Writes ~ 2 Comments

Once upon a time I was talking to a friend about the disaster of a human being I am and how I find new and interesting ways to fail. And he told me “You are a universe unfolding.”

Damn I love that line. That’s a good line. I don’t mind being a disaster, but being a universe unfolding encompasses so much more than just the disaster element. I mean, when you think of it, the universe was something of a mess when it first got started and there are bits of it now that are most likely in disarray, but there are some nifty areas, too.

That’s something like me.

“I’m not the same person I used to be.” That’s the ol’ personal growth saying, isn’t it? And it’s true. I’m not the same person I was twenty years ago or ten years ago or five days ago. That’s not necessarily a good thing. Growth happens in all sorts of directions, doesn’t it? Cancer is a growth, after all. Can’t say too many people are thrilled with it. In all of my unfolding over the years, I can’t say that I’ve gotten it all right. I know I’ve unfolded some horrors, some really deep dark dimensions that weren’t for the faint of heart. I believe they like to call those times the dark night of the soul and baby, my soul was a pitch black moonless midnight, not a star to be seen.

Not every change I make to my existence is one that works out in my favor. Or in other people’s favor.

The interesting thing about being a universe unfolding is that not everyone appreciates it. Not everyone digs your expansion or your new disasters or your changes or your newness. They prefer you as you were because that’s what’s comfortable, that’s what’s known. Not everyone signed up to boldly go, you know? I can’t blame them. After all, they’re a universe, too.

The comforting thing about embracing myself as a universe unfolding is the unending aspect of it. I don’t mean that I suddenly think I’m immortal or that I’ll be remembered for eternity or anything like that. My legacy is none of my business because I’ll be dead and that presents a different set of concerns. What I mean is that I’m unending. I’m always new. I’m always finding and creating and destroying different aspects of myself and my existence. Even as a person who craves stability and who sometimes struggles with change, there’s something warm and fuzzy about the idea that I’m always…unfolding.

I am still very much a disaster in many ways. I frequently set fire to my own life with my choices. My brain can be an absolute hellscape of anxiety and depression. But instead of offering these things up as evidence of the complete failure of a human I am, I can now show them as examples of the universe I am. These are my black holes. But if you swing that telescope ’round, you’ll see the planets of my creativity and the constellations of my work and the stars of empathy and humor and intelligence, and the meteors of greatness that whiz by.

I truly am an interesting place.

And there’s always more of me to discover.

Read This If–You’re Looking for a New Recipe

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I do most of the cooking in my house which means I’m the one responsible for coming up with meals that these people will eat. It’s exhausting and I hate it. But! It does give me an excuse to look at cookbooks that I find interesting and sometimes I luck out and find few recipes that I like.

Here are a couple of cookbooks that are both interesting reads and have some tasty recipes inside.

Cook Real Hawai’i by Sheldon Simeon–I guess if you watch Top Chef, you’ll recognize Sheldon’s Simeon’s name. I don’t, so I didn’t. But! As someone who does a podcast about a show that was set and filmed in Hawai’i, I’m naturally curious about things I come across pertaining to the islands. I really like this cookbook because it shows all of the cultural influences on Hawaiian cuisine -Korean, Filipino, Japanese, and Portuguese- and how they come together to form a culture of its own. I haven’t tried too many dishes out of this cookbook, but my favorite is the kimchi dip. You really can put it on anything and I even tried it on Cool Ranch Doritos as suggested. Yep. It works.

I know most of the time you want to skip past the stories to get to the recipes, but Sheldon’s stories in this cook book are definitely worth reading.

Trejo’s Cantina by Danny Trejo–I think we all agree that Danny Trejo is great (if you don’t, you’re wrong) and this cookbook is fabulous. Not only will you find a variety of recipes to satisfy the vegans, vegetarians, and meat-eaters, as well as quench the thirst of the drinkers and teetotalers, but Danny even takes the time to explain what a cantina is all about and how to best stock yours, including your bar. I haven’t had the time to try as many of the recipes as I’ve wanted, but we did eat a lot of shrimp tostadas during the summer. As it turns out, my life is greatly improved by having access to chipotle lime creama.

Danny’s also got stories and bits of wisdom in this cookbook. Read every word. It’ll make your day.

If you decide to try these cookbooks, I hope you find some recipes you enjoy. And if you end up with food poisoning, I never gave you the shopping list.

NaNo 2023

~ Kiki Writes ~ 1 Comment

Ah, yes. It’s that time of year again. The time when I drive myself to the brink of insanity by writing a 50,000 word novel in a month.

Okay, that’s pretty dramatic considering this will be my 19th NaNo and I long ago mastered the art of writing those 50,000 words in 30 days, though I do admit that sometimes it can be stressful.

Last year, I actually wrote a novel, a real change of pace from some of the NaNo shenanigans I’ve pulled in previous years. This year, I’m back to my shenanigans. Sort of. I’m still working on a novel, it’s just that I’m adding to an existing story rather than writing a novel from scratch.

My goal for this year is to add 50,000 words to the story What Happened to the Man in the Cabin?.

When I initially wrote what turned out to be a longer short story, I thought it had the potential to be a novella or maybe a novel, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to go through with adding words. I also had other projects going, so I didn’t really have the time, focus or energy to really explore that option. But, having thought about it for months and having come up with a reasonable expansion plan, I think NaNo is the time to do it.

This will be something of an adventure for me. The original story dealt with two different timelines -the present, where Newly Lowell is being interrogated by Sheriff Adam Joe about an incident that happened thirty years prior; and the past, the incident that took place when Newly and her brothers Thad and Quint were twelve. The expansion plan intends to shift the viewpoint of the past from Newly’s to a more general one, allowing for the past to be expanded more, and to add in the viewpoint of Sheriff Adam Joe, but from the recent past, starting when he finds the Lowell triplets’ father dead and knows they’ll be headed back to town, which will be his opportunity to get answers.

Ambitious? Absolutely. Am I good enough to pull it off? Probably not. But, I think the doing will be very educational and I might end up with something that I can work with in rewrites.

I will also still be working on That’s Punk while I do NaNo, which should make for a fun warm-up if I stick to doing at least 100 words a day on it like I have been. And I’ll be working on podcasting and other audio projects during the month because I failed to appropriately plan ahead this year, so that should be fun and stressful.

This year I plan to keep my daily word count to about 1,700 words a day, just above minimum, writing every day of the month. I think the lower word count will help to counteract the stress of doing something difficult during a busier schedule.

At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

We’ll see how I feel at the end of the month.

I Think Libraries Are Naturally Haunted Places

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As a rule, most of the library staff don’t work in the library alone. We have to have at least three staff members in the building for the library to be open. The struggle for the perpetually short-staffed night shift is real. We’ve had to close early more than once because too many people called out. The two of us left still have to work our shift, just without patrons.

However, this doesn’t mean staff haven’t been in the library alone. And it’s always an eerie experience.

At the beginning of the Covid pandemic, the library closed to the public and only essential staff were allowed to be in the building on a strict schedule. Only three people were allowed in the building at a time, had to work in different areas/on different floors, and were only allowed to work for short three hour shifts. After about six weeks, it was decided that processing was an essential job and since I was doing most of the processing, that meant I went back to work in the library. I was greeted with over 100 items to process in three hour shifts no more than three days a week. Fun! It took me a over a week of those shifts to catch up.

I usually worked at the same time as my director. Rarely was any one else in the building during my shift because I took my time in the afternoons and they usually worked in the mornings. More than once, my director would leave for the day and I’d still have some work to do, so I’d spend maybe as much as an hour alone in the building to finish whatever I was working on.

I was 100% alone in the building, but it never felt like I was. I’d hear noises that sounded like someone down on the lower level or someone walking around upstairs on the children’s floor. And of course, the classic feeling like I was being watched.

It turns out that I’m not the only who’s had this experience. Other people who’ve been in the building have had similar experiences.

We’ve also had those types of experiences when the building was open. It’s not uncommon to be sitting at the circulation desk and hear someone downstairs when no one is downstairs. To the extent that we’ve gone downstairs to check. Part of this is because of the way the building is constructed. Sound travels and bounces in that building in weird ways. It would be perfect cover for a ghost, honestly.

We joke that it’s the ghost of Miss Kent, who was head librarian from 1914 to 1966. She actually started working in the library in 1910 when she was hired as an assistant for Mrs. Rose, who was the first head librarian. Anything weird that happens -the women’s restroom door closing after it’s been propped open, display books falling off shelves when no one is near them, etc.- we blame it on Miss Kent. After all, if anyone would be haunting the library, it would be her.

I think the library probably is haunted. I think most, if not all, libraries are haunted.

Think about it.

A lot of libraries have historical items. Some items are just borrowed to put on display, some belong to them. Most libraries have old books. My library is a repository of local history. We have an archive of items donated over the years, from letters to clothing to pictures to a creepy doll collection that we only recently put into storage after years of giving children nightmares. We even have an artillery shell from the Korean War. We also have many of the books from CH Moore, who at the time of his death in 1901 had one of the largest private libraries in Illinois. Just some really old shit.

It would stand to reason that some energy from these previous owners might still linger. We have entire collections that are just from one person, like the collection of clothes -including mourning gown and veil- that is currently on display. Maybe some of these people decided to stick with their belongings.

Even though this country is obsessed with getting rid of anything that’s more than a few years old and building entirely new buildings, many libraries are pretty old. They put a new addition on my library in 1991 which opened in 1992, but the original building that was built in 1906 and opened in 1908 is still there. It’s over 100 years old. Miss Kent worked in that building for over 50 years, and she wasn’t the only one to dedicate decades of her life to the library. This building’s been sitting around, collecting stories for a long time.

And then there was something that my coworker Kelsey suggested and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. We’re a library. We loan items out. Who knows what kind of energies those items come back with? Something to consider.

So, the next time you go to the library (you are going to your library, aren’t you?), take a good look around and keep your ears open.

You might not be the only one in the stacks.

“Nothing Worth Mentioning”

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When people ask me what’s going on or what I’ve been up to, my go to response is always, “Nothing worth mentioning.” Sort of like when people ask you how you are and you automatically respond with “fine”. It’s all part of the social greeting norms. Nobody really cares how you are. And nobody really cares what I’ve been doing.

I discovered years ago that I’m a dull person. People would ask me what I’d been up to and I’d honestly answer that question and watch their eyes glaze over. Or if I was part of a group conversation, someone else would interrupt and the conversation would shift and that would be the end of my participation. What have I been doing? Nothing interesting to anyone else, apparently.

Part of this is because I’m kind of a failure and didn’t do what I was supposed to do. I didn’t get married, I didn’t have kids, I didn’t get a “real” job. I think people who did all of that kind of find it hard to relate. What do we talk about if we can’t talk about the things we’re supposed to have in common? They tell me stories about their spouses and offspring and full-time work drama. What can I contribute with? I can’t. Let’s just skip it then, shall we?

The other part of this is that I’m introverted. I don’t have the spouse, 2.5 kids, picket fence, and office job to talk about, but I’m also not partying every weekend or traveling the world or other leaving-the-house activities on a regular basis. I go to work at the library day job and I come home and that’s pretty much it most weeks. It’s already been established that we’re not going to talk about what I’m working on. So, what do we talk about? Which patron acted the ass this week? Well, several, but I can’t name names because this is a small town. Gotta tread lightly so I don’t get into trouble.

In the end, “nothing worth mentioning” is the best answer because it’s the truest one. I’ve been doing things and living life, but if I wrote it in a novel, it’d be the stuff most readers would skip because they found it boring. Sure, I took a trip to South Carolina, but it was pretty much to see a pineapple fountain and relax. Don’t need more than a couple of sentences to explain that.

And that’s the thing. In the unlikely event that I actually do something worth mentioning, I’ve gotten so good at not mentioning it that I no longer really know how to mention it.

“How was your trip?”

“Oh, it was great. I had a really fun time!”

End conversation.

Unless you ask me for more details, I will not offer them up. I don’t want to bore you. And if you do ask, I will bore you with those details. What’s exciting and interesting to me is beige paint to everyone else. For someone who calls themselves a writer, I really can’t tell a story well enough to hold an audience.

(Ah. Some additional insight into my unsuccessful writing career, methinks.)

It’s something I”m working on. Both getting better at talking about the things worth mentioning and realizing that there are sometimes things worth mentioning going on in my life.

In the meantime, I’m still available to hear all about what’s going on in yours.

My Ass Might Be Acceptable If I Didn’t Have a Belly

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Living in a society that makes body types trends and fads is wild. I have never once been in style.

The closest I came was when butts came into fashion. Juicy booties were all the rage and I’ve been growing my own backside since puberty. Which was kinda the problem. My big ass wasn’t big in exactly the right way. More wide than round. Which probably could have been forgiven if I’d had a tiny waist and flat stomach to go with it. Alas alack, a little too much waist and a lot too much belly.

Back in the long long ago, heroin chic was in. You had to be rail thin, no butt, no boobs, no body fat. Not many women (and that’s who these trends are usually directed towards) could achieve that look, though a good many earned eating disorders and body image issues trying. That was back when I was thinner than I am now, but had more boobs than anyone knew what to do with. There was no way I’d ever be able to achieve that look, not with all the anorexia I could manage. I’m not built to be small. Could you imagine taking all of the body fat off of me and leaving only a the most necessary hint of muscle behind? I’d look straight up wonky. I’m sorry, Vogue, but my thighs are meant to touch. That’s just my DNA.

That’s what’s really head-tilting about the whole body trend thing. This idea that people’s DNA is a fad, a hot for fall style, don’t be out of fashion. Like…what? How does that even make sense?

But it does. There’s money and power in that sort of manipulation. You sell diets and implants with that sort of advertising. You keep women off balance always trying to achieve the unattainable physical ideal and have a convenient way of putting them in their place if they don’t.

It’s a mindfuck.

As someone who has spent most of their existence in a fat body, I well know the toll this sort of thing can take on a person living in a society when only certain bodies are deemed worthy. And to narrow that field even further with body trends…whew. It feels like an unending failing.

The body positivity movement has been interesting in this respect because even though it has helped push larger bodies more into the mainstream for representation, there’s still certain trends. You’re not going to see anyone who looks like me…aggressively pear-shaped with a belly and bat wings, for example. It’s a bad look. Definitely not in style.

Ain’t that a bitch?

I’ve never been very good about being on trend. Even if I had the in fashion body, my style has tended to out of sync with what’s all the rage. So, it wouldn’t make much sense for me to obsess with my actual body not being the going thing, would it? And yet! It’s something that still creeps up in my mind. Little reminders that I’ll never be in style. That I’ll always be just wrong enough to miss the trend. Society has a Hot or Not page and I’m always in the Not column. And I should feel bad about that.

I admit that sometimes I do. Sometimes I forget myself and I lament about never having a body that’s in style.

And then I remember that I’m not supposed to. Bodies aren’t meant to be trends. They’re just bodies, our soul’s meat vehicles. Whatever model you’ve got is just fine.

And in my case, I’ve always had more fun being out of fashion anyway.

Read This If–You Dig Haunted Houses

~ Kiki Writes ~ 2 Comments

It’s October and I love Halloween. It was only natural that I’d pick a couple of horror reads for this month, but the first two books I thought of were both about haunted house novels. Ding ding ding! No more calls. We have a winner. Haunted house horror it is.

How to Sell a Haunted House by Grady Hendrix–Louise reluctantly leaves her daughter with her ex and travels across the country to help bury her parents, both dead in a tragic car accident. As if losing her parents wasn’t bad enough, she’s faced with the task of cleaning out her childhood home with her younger brother Mark, who is something of a failure in life -at least to Louise- and her biggest antagonist. The biggest hitch, though, is that the house doesn’t want to be sold.

This book caught me off guard. We’re going along like what you might expect from a haunted house tale and then…hard left into holy shit. It is a ride. But like many haunted house stories, it’s the family secrets that are more haunting than anything.

Tell Me I’m Worthless by Alison Rumfitt–Once upon a time, Alice, Hannah, and Ila went to a haunted house…and only Alice and Ila came out. Alice’s life has been less than great since that night. Haunted by the events, she goes to parties she doesn’t want to be at, drinks herself to sleep, and sells pics of herself online to support herself. Worse, she and Ila are so far estranged that they’re enemies. But when Ila asks her to go back to the house, Alice knows she has to go.

This is a brutal read because it’s not just the house that’s haunted, but the people, too. Alice is trans and after the events in the house, Ila has gone full TERF. Neither of them are living their best lives. The narrative doesn’t pull its punches. And once they go back into the house…hoo boy. Buckle up. This is house is haunted haunted.

I actually ended up reading these two back-to-back. While they might both be haunted house novels, the hauntings are very different, but both are terrifying in their own ways.

Read if you dare.

The Priority Shift

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I have no doubt that if I were to look back on the blog posts I’ve done in the past few years, I’d probably find one on the topic of priorities because I’m sure I’ve written about this before. However, I’m not that motivated. Or should I say…it’s not a priority.

Perhaps it’s not obvious, but it probably should be. I struggle with my priorities. More specifically, I struggle with correctly prioritizing things in my life. I’m not good at it. I fuck up the order consistently. What I should prioritize, I don’t, and what gets prioritized usually shouldn’t be so high on the list. Or even on the list. As a result, I spend a lot of time feeling like I’m not living my life the way I truly want to. Granted, it would take a substantial inflow of income to truly allow me to live my life the way I want to, but given the limitations I’m currently operating under, I could be doing a whole lot better.

My recent two week vacation from the library allowed me to really take a look at how I prioritize my life and what I need to change. To be honest, it’s something I’ve been half-ass working on all year. I got The Remarkable Life Deck: A Ten-Year Plan for Achieving Your Dreams by Debbie Millan for my birthday (I asked for this; it wasn’t some anvil suggestion that I needed to get my shit together). I’ve worked my way through the deck twice and now I really need to start working on what I’ve written down. So, I spent some time while I was in Charleston looking at what I wrote down and identifying some baby steps I could take in the direction of achieving my dreams the deck had produced.

To the shock of absolutely no one, the babiest of those baby steps is a shift in my priorities. And the most obvious shift was to make myself a priority.

Yea, I know what you’re thinking. As a selfish woman, I already make myself a priority. While I won’t argue with the fact that I am selfish, I have receipts to show that I don’t make myself a priority. I’ve got the high blood pressure, patellar tendonitis, GERD, parathyroid issues, insomnia, stress, weight gain, fatigue, and anxiety to prove it. Quiet self-destruction is one of my default settings and it takes a conscious effort to not succumb to the default. I tend to put everything over taking care of myself and though I’ve made improvements in that defect in the past several years, I need to be doing a whole lot better.

I need to put myself at the top of the priority list.

This means putting my health first. Putting my rest first. Putting my mental health first.

Theoretically, if and when I do that, most everything else will fall into place. Why? Well, because I’m the center of my Universe, aren’t I? The cause and solution to all of my problems. If I take care of me, then I have a better ability to take care of business, so to speak. I’ll have the time and energy and health that will make dealing with other priorities easier.

For example, it’s not a plot twist to find out that one of my better life goals is to make a living by writing. It should also not be a shocker to know that it’s very difficult and uncommon to make a living by writing. But if I want to even have a shot at achieving that dream, then I need to make my writing a priority.

This isn’t to say that writing isn’t and hasn’t been important to me. But since my terrible bout of writer’s struggle I’ve found that I got into the habit of prioritizing other things over writing because when I was struggling everything else was easier. “Let me just get this done first…” “This needs to be done now because…” Those sort of excuses can’t fly anymore. I need to subscribe to the idea that any writing is better than no writing at all and that sneaking in those words every day is the only way I’m going to get anything done.

I’ve also gotten so used to not submitting anything I write, keeping it either for Patreon purposes or for other undefined reasons outside of the occasional contest entry. I’m out of touch with the writing world (not that I was really that in-touch with it before). If I’m going to make a living, even a small one, off of writing, then I need to reconnect with that world.

So, I shift writing to the second spot on my priority list, right after myself.

Now what happens?

Everything else shifts itself around, hopefully landing in better positions, maybe some things falling off the priority list entirely.

And hopefully with this priority shift, my best life will emerge.