Making Grinchmas

December 9, 2013January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

I make as many presents as I can for Grinchmas. The present depends on the person. My nieces always get jewelry, but what kind of jewelry varies from year to year (and request to request; I’ve been making them jewelry for years so they anticipate it now). Other folks I try to come up with something unique, but if I can make several for different people, I find that handy.

Last year a couple of my friends got little recipe books that I personalized for them while several of my family members got mason jars that I wrote on with hot glue and then painted silver so the writing would show up. I filled the jars with either tea or hot chocolate and attached candy canes with ribbons.

This year I found a recipe to make dough for Christmas ornaments and decided that would be a good idea. Creative and unique and I could make several of them for different people. Of course I’m making jewelry for my nieces (including the newest one I picked up through my sister’s marriage) and my cousin’s girlfriend, and my mother requested that I sew her some kitty curtains and coasters for her new house (I’ll post an explanation with pictures about all of that later).

While it’s nice to have everything known and lined out and whatnot, I’ve found that once again I’ve put the pressure on myself time-wise. And I even started earlier this year than last year!

Part of the pressure comes from trying to do all of these things between three jobs and writing. The other part comes from the fact that some of this stuff has to be mailed and if I want it there before the holiday, I need to have it done sooner than everything else.

The biggest part of the pressure, though, comes from my brain. I feel like I need to have this done NOW. And I won’t be happy until it is all done. Never mind that I sew by hand and that I have to wait for my charms to arrive by mail and that paint needs to dry. Now. NOW.

It’s like there’s a self-imposed deadline is in my head. More like a clock ticking down to detonation. If I don’t get this all done by a certain time everything will blow up.

The clock was running down for me this past weekend. I could see it in my head, ticking down to Sunday night. Which was kind of silly. Of everything that I still had to do (most of the jewelry and the kitty curtains were already done), only the coasters HAD to be finished (I delivered the curtains last week and I promised the coasters by Tuesday). Most of the ornaments won’t be delivered until Christmas Eve/Day. Of those that have to be mailed, I still have time for that. Ditto with the bracelet I have to make (the one for my niece’s birthday, which is a week before Christmas, is a little more pressing, but not that much really).

So I spent the weekend frantically thinking about all of the things I needed to have done and doing those said things.

Not the most restful weekend, but at least I’m almost ready for Grinchmas.

Now I just need to start wrapping things.

But that’s another post.

Writing–Boys and Girls

October 16, 2013October 13, 2013 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

I’ve heard people say that they can’t write women. Or they can’t write men. And I can’t understand that.

Okay, I can understand it but I can’t because I’ve never had any trouble with it, and I guess I’ve never had any trouble with it because I really don’t put much thought into it. I have this annoying tendency to write people and not think much about their genitals, I suppose.

Typically, when I start working on a story, I know pretty quickly whether or not the POV character or main character is a man or a woman (though, “Spillway” was in first person and I never identified the gender of the character). I’m not sure how I come to that decision or what the science is behind it. If Stephen King is right and stories are found things, then it’s really a choice made for me.

However it’s decided, once it’s decided, I don’t think much about it. Gender is part of the character, sure, but I tend not make a huge thing about it. I don’t feel compelled to swathe my characters in pink or blue; I just write about certain people in certain situations and call it good.

This isn’t to say that sex and gender isn’t a serious contributing factor to people’s lives and experiences. Hello, I’m a woman. I’m quite familiar how that impacts my behaviors and personality and life in the overall. I also know that sex and gender is much more complex than what I’m talking about here, which is only the very simplest and most basic concepts.

I suppose what I mean to say is that I don’t stress over writing POV from a particular gender. While there are differences, I don’t consider them to be great hang-ups to throw my hands up over and say I can’t write them.

The more I try to explain myself, the worse I make it sound.

Basically, what it boils down to is that I can write people and very little prevents me from doing it with some competence.

There.

Writing–From Doubt to New Idea

September 4, 2013August 29, 2013 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

After the Short Story Disappointment of August, I found myself re-evaluating my worth, dedication, and ability as a writer. Periods of writer’s doubt are common for me. I think a lot of writers go through it once in a while. But this one had me really questioning myself as a writer.

In the end, I realized a few things about myself.

One, I’m always going to be a writer. Even if I can never make a living off of it, I’m always going to do it. It’s just what I do. Because when I sat down and asked myself, “Okay, self, what is it that you really want to do with your life?” the answer that came immediately was “Write”. Yes, I like to do other things. Yes, I make money other ways and I’m always exploring new ways to make money that I think would be fun and engaging. I’m really selfish in the fact that I want to do what I want to do as often as possible and I do what I can to make that happen. But the number one thing I want to do is write, so that’s what I’m going to do.

The second thing I realized is that I don’t think I’m good enough to make a living as a writer. Oh sure, plenty of crap writers get published and make bajillions of dollars (I don’t think I need to be naming names here). However, they also at least have an idea that is marketable, that the public drools for, that can be sold to the masses. I don’t have that. My brain doesn’t work that way. I don’t have the inherent ability to be popular and by extension, the stuff I write isn’t popular. Because of this I realize that I will probably never be able to sell a book to a traditional publisher. I just don’t have what they want because what they want is to make money (and I don’t blame them because that’s what we all want, baby). There is no need to waste an agent’s time because I don’t have the goods for the market. No fair asking them to sell bruised peaches to folks looking for shiny apples. They’ll never earn a living that way and neither will I.

The final thing I realized is that, you know, self-publishing might just be it for me. I AM good enough for that. And we’re rapidly moving away from the stigma of self-publishing being for losers. I do like self-publishing for the most part. I hate the formatting, but I like the control I have over what I publish, what the cover looks like, where I publish it, and so forth. I’m not a control-freak (some people might disagree), but I do like the autonomy of doing it myself. Yeah, it doesn’t translate into great sales, but it does provide that rush of accomplishment I get when something of mine does get published, but in this case, it’s just coming on my terms instead of someone else’s.

This latest batch of writer’s doubt has put a new perspective on who I am as a writer. It’s often too easy for me to put myself down because I’m not like other writers. Now I’m operating from the position that it’s okay if I’m not because I’m doing my own thing anyway. I shouldn’t be doing their thing. My own is just fine.

So pardon me while I groove.

Writing–Full Stop

August 28, 2013January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

This hiccup with my planned anthology, along with one of my stories getting cancelled, has brought me to a full stop.

It’s a simple case of writer’s doubt I know, but I’ve taken a good hit to the ego and I need some recovery time.

It’s not like the time I didn’t write for two weeks, though. It’s not that I’m not writing at all. I’m still writing blog posts and writing in my journal and sketching out some story ideas and the like, but all work on my short stories has completely stopped, even the ones that had nothing to do with the anthology. I just don’t want to look at them. I don’t know what to do with them. I don’t want to start a new one. Bleh bleh bleh.

So I shot myself in the foot this month. What I want to get accomplished isn’t going to be accomplished because I ran smack dab into this brick wall and I’m doing a fair bit of whining and moping instead of problem-solving to get by it.

The thing is, though, I’m letting myself do it. I have a right to wallow a bit. The wallowing isn’t stopping me from working on OTHER things. In fact, I’m directing a bit of that wallowing towards other projects because it let’s me feel like I’m not a complete failure and I’m not being totally useless.

But I don’t see any reason why I should deny myself the opportunity to experience this disappointment. How else will I learn? How else will I get stronger? How else will I figure out how to cope and how to recover and how to overcome?

So maybe full stop isn’t the best way to describe this since only one thing has really stopped (temporarily).

Everything else is still plugging away.

Sew, I Made Another Skirt

August 26, 2013January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

After doing my first jean skirt, I decided that I had another pair of jeans that were ripe for transformation and decided to do another one, but shorter. I was going for a pencil skirt look, which I sort of achieved.

I did my measuring and cut off the legs where I thought I should. Then I went about the cutting and sewing just like I did with the first, long denim skirt: I cut the inseam of the legs open along the seam and the front of the jeans up along the crotch towards the zipper so I could fold it over and stitch it. I did the same thing in the back, cutting up the butt seam, but fashioning a slit instead.

The front looks pretty good, I think. I don’t like the way the back slit turned out very much and if I’m honest, the skirt should be tighter around the legs to be more pencil-ish. It also turned out shorter than I’d intended. Good thing I allowed an inch or so for a hem, otherwise it would have been much shorter than I wanted.

I learned a few things working on this skirt.

One, I’m terrible at cutting a straight line and I don’t know that I’ll ever get better at it.

Two, shorter skirts require a lot more trimming than I thought. Due to my crap cutting skills and the way the fabric needed to be arranged to be worked into a skirt, I had a lot more excess material to cut away than with my first skirt.

Three, my stitching is getting better, which I consider a huge plus.

Four, I will sew with my left hand without realizing it and then wonder why it’s taking me so long to get the sewing done. No kidding. I was half-way through one section of the skirt before I realized why it was taking me so long to get it done. The sad thing is, I do stuff like that all the time. Clearly, I think I’m ambidextrous, but my left hand just hasn’t developed the necessary skill level yet.

In the end, I’m pretty pleased with this attempt.

This will be the last jeans-to-skirt attempt for a while, though.

At least until I buy some more jeans.

Writing–So About That Anthology

August 19, 2013January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

I’ve discussed that I planned to do another short story anthology this year and I brashly said that I could have it pretty much done by the end of this month.

Well, I did a great job of jinxing myself.

In doing revisions on my short stories for the anthology, a few things ended up occurring.

1. Two of the stories aren’t working out. “Devil Temper” and “The Backroom” just aren’t coming together the way I want them to and I’m not sure yet how to fix them. This means there’s a very good chance that they will not be done by the end of the month. It also means that they might not work out at all or, if they do work out, might no longer work for the anthology. See my next number.

2. “The Nights Get Shorter” has turned out to be a good little ditty, which I’m pleased with, but isn’t going to fit the tone of the anthology, which is a bummer.

3. “Mind the Deer” did work and will be used. Thank goodness I didn’t jinx EVERYTHING.

So this means I went from having my anthology idea worked out and all of the spaces filled to needing three stories if I can’t get “Devil Temper” and “The Backroom” to do my bidding and/or they no longer work for the anthology.

This is what I get for being too cocky and thinking that this month was going to be a breeze. Instead, I’m looking at a big ol’ setback and the goals I had for the month might not get accomplished.

Let this be a lesson, kids. Don’t be arrogant with your work. It’ll kick you in the ass.

Sensory Overload at the Movies

August 5, 2013January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

I went to see The Conjuring with my roommate. She’d been really wanting to see it, but since it’s scary, she didn’t want to see it alone. After being subject to some bribery in the form of a Salted Caramel Pretzel milkshake from Steak n Shake, I was persuaded to see it with her. After reading some reviews, I thought it might not be too terrible, high praise from someone so finicky and critical of horror films, particularly recent stuff.

And I do think it was pretty good. I’m looking forward to watching it again on TV so I can really appreciate all of the elements at work.

Why TV? Why not see it in the theater again?

Simple.

Seeing movies in the theater has a tendency to be a downright painful experience for me.

I’ve found as I’ve gotten older that I have a certain sensitivity to sounds. Theaters are almost always too loud for me. Now that’s not too big of a deal most of the time, unless I’m seeing a film like The Conjuring that contains a lot of jump scares. A component of the jump scare, of course, is the sudden crash of sound that accompanies the visual shock. Yeah, those crashes hurt.

My roommate noticed that I was cringing at things I was hearing long before anyone else heard anything. There’s a moment in the film when a mix of voices are heard on a recording. I had to plug my ears. It was too much noise. I’ve been known to do this during action sequences, too, with a lot of gun shots and explosions. Too loud.

I’ve also found in my old age that the visual experience of movies is hard for me to deal with. Hi-def is great, I’m sure. But for me, in the theater, everything is too big, too close, too much and it’s hard for my brain to adjust. I’ve never been good with point of view shots, but put them up on the big screen and my eyes can’t handle it. Same with anything that has too much shaking. It makes my eyes cross. There’s no way I could have watched Open Water, Cloverfield, or The Blair Witch Project on the big screen. My brain wouldn’t have been able to take it.

As it was there were a few times during The Conjuring that I had to close my eyes, not because it was scary, but because I couldn’t take the shaking and/or point of view angles. The sudden swing of the camera made my eyes cross. There’s a whole swath of movie that took place in the cellar that I couldn’t see because it was all done from the POV of a handheld camera.

Some days are better than others when it comes to the visuals, but the noises are always brutal. My roommate suggested that the next time I go to the movies I wear ear plugs. It might help and I’m willing to try it.

Anything to tone down the overwhelming theater experience to bearable so I can at least enjoy a film based on the film and not how painful the sensory overload is.

Just another reason I’m a pain in the ass when it comes to going to the movies.

Writing–Like Love Letters

July 24, 2013January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

I read Stephen King’s On Writing at least once a year. It reminds me that it’s okay for me to write what I want to write and how I want to write it just so long as I’m being true to myself and the work. I need that reminder every so often, particularly during the long, barren stretches when nothing is getting accepted, published, or read.

In the book, he talks about having an “ideal reader”, someone you have in mind when you write your story. It could be anybody. It can be your wife, your husband, your best friend, your cousin, the shlub down the street that throws things at the pine trees when it rains. Anybody. The person doesn’t even have to be living. Considering their current popularity, even zombies could be ideal readers nowadays.

I’ve developed an odd take on this. I don’t really have an ideal reader exactly. At least, that’s not how I look at it. To me, my stories are my love letters to certain people. There are certain people I have in mind when I write them. When I put those stories out there, traditionally or self-published or whatever, I’m hoping that those particular people read their particular stories. I want them to read them and know that I’m thinking of them.

Love letters.

Most of the people I’m thinking of will never read what I’ve written. Many of them don’t even know I exist. But just in case they should happen to stumble upon something I’ve done…

I’ve never been good at expressing my emotions. I’m better at it when I write them down. I’m unbeaten at it when I can express myself through fiction with the relative comfort that the love letter I’m writing won’t be interpreted as such, isn’t obvious, and likely won’t even by read by the intended.

But, like I said. If they do happen to stumble upon that story I wrote just for them, I hope they read it and I hope they know it was sealed with a kiss, just for them.

I bet you didn’t realize that horror could be so mushy in a non-entrails sort of way, huh?

I’m At That Age

July 8, 2013January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

I’m at that age…

-where I don’t have time for unpleasant people. You’re a raging asshole with bigoted tendencies. I do not wish to associate with you or your kind. Same goes for the drama mongers, the politically ignorant, the sports jerks that take the fun out of the game, and most adults that post cryptic messages on Facebook.

-where I’m intolerant. I prefer to live and let live, but when you come at me with your “how can you be tolerant of my intolerance” bullshit, then darling, I have no trouble showing you exactly how intolerant I can be. Yes, dear, I am intolerant of you and your trollish, asshole behavior and I’ll say so. So tolerate THAT.

-where I’m unapologetic. Not going to apologize for being fat, being a woman, being bisexual, being a Cubs fan, listening to any and all kinds of music, not watching movies, not being religious, not believing in your God, being intolerant to your bullshit, not putting up with your ignorant ass, caring about what I care about, being a writer, etc.

-where I will sing and dance in the grocery store if one of my jams from “the nineteens” (as my nieces would say) comes on.

-where I’ll wear whatever the hell I want to you and you all just need to cope as best you can.

-where I don’t know who most of these new bands and singers are and I have to ask my nieces.

-where I’m tired of hearing about what you eat, how often you exercise, how great your husband/wife/kids are, etc. because you act like if you don’t mention it five times a day I won’t know how much better you are than me.

-where I don’t give a shit if you’re better than me. There’s no prize for being the loudest braying jackass.

-where I’m still going to dress up for Halloween and silently wish I could still go trick-or-treating while I pass out candy.

-where I’m not going to settle.

-where I’m going to point when “new” things have really been around for a while.

-where I’m going to refer to people as “young folk”.

-where I’m going to keep dreaming, reaching, striving, and hoping for something better.

Because, you see, I’m at that age where I’m realizing that the years are piling up behind me, leaving fewer in front of me. The less time I spend messing with the petty and shoveling the bullshit, the more time I can spend enjoying my days.

Sorry if that ruins yours.

The Reality of “Let’s Be Brave”

July 1, 2013January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

Last year I posted about a dream I had in which a young Michael Nesmith came to me and said, “Let’s be brave”. And I decided that it was a great idea and these were words I should live by.

I declared it my new motto.

Almost a year later I can safely say that I haven’t been too good about living up to those words.

In some ways, I have. Little ways. I bit the bullet when it came to my sewing, pushing aside the idea of making a mistake and wasting a shirt or a pair of jean or a handkerchief and turning those things into bags and skirts and dresses.

I’ve self-published a couple of novellas in that time and I’ve been less shy about being a writer, though I’m still pretty restrained when it comes to bugging people to read what I’ve published.

I’ve given fewer fucks about what people think about me and I’m embracing who and what I am and I’m less afraid about being that person in front of everyone more and more.

But in a lot of important ways, I’m still a coward.

My life has advanced very little. My need for security keeps me petrified. My ability to make money being tied to my self-esteem, my inability to be more creative about making money, the constant berating that goes on in my head about not having a “real” job and how everyone judges me as a failure for it, those things I haven’t been brave enough to even face, let alone conquer or let go.

I still can’t ask for help; my ego won’t allow it. I’m not brave enough to admit that it’s okay to ask for help and that, maybe, people would be willing to help me. I’m not a failure for asking for help, even if I feel like I am and like I don’t deserve it.

I’m still ashamed of so many aspects of my life. The bravery that I feel when facing them falters when I have to admit them to other people. I still have too many fucks to give in that department.

And don’t even get me started on the downright terror that complete paralyzes me when it comes to matters of the heart.

Who would have thought that turning brave from chicken wouldn’t happen overnight? Or even in a year?

I acknowledge the progress that I’ve made and I hope to keep making more, but I can’t help but be disappointed that I haven’t gone farther in a year.

I’ll never be able to stitch “Let Be Brave” on a sampler if I don’t live up to those words.