Inner Monologue

Gale excerpts below, trigger warnings: blood, gore, vivisection, abuse, necromancy, I'm going to go ahead and say sexual content as well since some of the descriptions get pretty racy.

The relationship between Gale and Ritz has a nice start, but it quickly becomes...unhealthy, I'm just waiting to be ridiculed for writing this book.

To make it worse my mind has been in very dark places during the entire month of November because of this, I am seriously reconsidering my December endeavor.

( Here we go... )

Over 11k and still going up, I'm weighing the best way to go about a book like this. I don't think I've ever read a book written from the perspective of the villain where they didn't repent or die by the end.

( Belladonna )
In the meantime I press on with NaNoWriMo, I'm a few days ahead, but I don't want to fall behind at all. The trouble is that with what I'm writing I'm having to be very picky with my word choice to make sure that everything falls into plan.

Today was lovely though, and it's not over yet. Robbie left to go further south to see friends and I spent the day with Samm. I have eaten so much sushi down here I'm happier than a kitty.

In other news KiKi is beautiful and her tail is as fluffy as she is wide, I almost want to steal her.

Gale wasn’t interested in leaving the house before Keane and the police arrived, he instead pulled up a chair and sat to the right of Mr. Crawley’s corpse, cigarette in hand, cat in his lap, and sniffing the air curiously every so often. I didn’t stick around to ask him what details his nose was picking up, while he wasn’t bothered with the smell of rotting flesh, I had to rush out of the house for fresh air and the first cigarette in half a month.

Its bad enough scouring the internet for “Necromancy 101”, but its worse when all these sites are citing resources that are in my own library.

I’m going to have to tone down some of the details in the chapters I’m working on, either that or put trigger warnings on them.

Even worse, I’ve been snacking the whole time I’ve been writing.

I read over a few of the short stories I was pumping out before June 19th, and I realized that the stories definitely have a different feel to them. I actually really, REALLY like the way they flow before June 19th as opposed to the attempts at rewriting the final chapter afterwards.

For example, Of Closets, a short story detailing Kamen and Artemis' childhood and their many blunders, this one detailing a point where the two find themselves locked in a closet. Hilarity ensues.

"It's never dark back home." She said with her voice much softer than it had been during her lecture.

Kamen glanced over to her, standing with her cheek against the door with the vague light from the bottom of the door creeping up and outlining the both of them. "Sunlight all day?"

She shook her head, "No, I mean…well it's never this dark." A small smile made its way across her face, "I suppose it does get dark in the country, but where I live the light from the city is always bouncing off of the buildings. People are awake all day and all night."

"That's silly. Even London sleeps."

"I didn't ask for your opinion. If I wanted it I would have asked." She said coldly, then added in the same tone: "I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry."

"Because you steal my food, you petty thief." She poked his chest.

Kamen shrugged, "Yours tastes better than mine." He wrinkled his nose, "How exactly does light bounce from building to building, they're made of brick, aren't they?"

"Different bricks. More like glass. And colored, a lot of the buildings are dark green."

He blinked twice, "That's silly."

"And," She said while glaring at him, her voice self-important, "We have tiny machines that you can listen to music with and talk to people who are far away with, and we have dragonfly machines that you can fly on—"

"And you're crazy."

She rapped the back of her hand on his chest, "You're one to talk, did you forget that we're locked in the closet?"

Of course after posting this I don't even want to show anyone the final chapter. it just doesn't have the same magic the rest of the book does. All poetry is crushed and the passion just isn't there.

If I'm ever going to be able to write like that again I'm going to have to read through ALL of Artemis, as well as probably finish all of the short stories that were started and never finished. Oh god, the Lady Godiva one, I don't even know how I'm supposed to make a conversaition about being naked in public in the 1860's permittable between a 15 year old and an 18 year old.

Yes. Yes, it is that bad.

EDIT: Figured it out: Kamen keeps pushing with borderline lewd comments, Artemis tries to ignore but inevidably ends up hitting him with her book.

...following an attempted skype text. I know my Mom likes the convenience of the voice chat over the typing because she never really learned how to type and doesn't spend enough time writing on the computer to teach herself (basically how I learned). I saw an upset FB post about how she wished family could get along with a few typos (meaning she didn't take her time) so typed to her on skype. Normally she would take a little longer and type back to me, but my phone immediately started going off.

My mother actually has a sister, well another sister, not the one she talks to all the time, but one that never returns calls, never did anything with us or ever talked with us. Actually the last time I ever saw her was when she was covered in track marks with joints all over her house and I was 1 or 2...

Apparently after not talking with this sister for a while she sends my mother a nasty e-mail. My mom likes to do all the cheesy re-posts and apparently when my mother was re-posting things about special needs children, world hunger, underpaid iraq vets, and...well you get the idea, charities and people less fortunate...well her sister thought she was talking about her.

...

ROFL

I would have laughed untill I peed myself if my mom wasn't in tears thinking that she had done something wrong.

So I left a nasty FB message on her wall... /shrug. It's not like I know the chick or have any obligation to her. She's done nothing but blow off the rest of her family, and she's never been a part of mine.

I can't even really be bitter. This is weird. I think this is what not caring really feels like.

I am such a bad person and I am going to hell.

I hope its nice and toasty.

My last day at work is this Tuesday.

The power will shut off on Thursday.

I put Artemis on hiatus. I've been unable to write on it, I keep getting caught up on the fact that I lost so much of it, and I can't seem to get back into the writing groove. So I decided to make a sequel to Ritzko...rather three sequels. I re-named the first book The Final Comission of Bastian Freeman, and the whole series will be called the Ritzko Project. Each of the books will be in the same style as the first, but from another perspective. The second from Johnson's, the third from Gale, and the fourth from Jenna.

In the first sitting I was able to push out 13 pages, and it was strange, but after writing that I felt almost like I might be able to do some work on Artemis. So I opened up the document and although I was unable to write anything, its comforting that the feeling is coming back.

With that being said, Emily is back in town this week. I admittedly am using the move as an excuse to not see her because I still do associate her with anything bad that happens to Artemis after she vandalized the very first copy beyond repair. I've gone over my history with writing with Kory on Livestream and Skype several times, and its interesting how I'm noticing how fucked up it's been after I put everything out there. How somehow I manage to continue with something I like after Emily tears it all apart, and my Mother patronizes me at the dinner table...

The trouble with this is that I won't be able to spend much time with Samm before I leave.

It was the last night with some of the girls tonight. There are certainly a few I will miss, but there are a lot of them that I won't miss at all, and I don't expect to be missed by many in return...I don't really know a nice way to say it, but I almost feel indifferent. I'll miss connecting with patients.

Plans for a movie night with Tammi and the kids tonight, I've practically been living there for the past few weeks on my day off. The Haven is no longer the Haven, Robbie and I are on the move.

Ugh, I agreed to a dinner with my family at 6 tonight, hopefully it doesn't drag on too long tonight...and hopefully I don't get too sick from seeing Emily. I know it isn't her fault. I just never forgave her for that, and now I almost blame her for everything bad that happens to my writing...

Was nothing short of a nightmare, and it looks like its going to bleed into this week.

My house was broken into on the 21st, my family was out of the state for that whole week. The computers were stolen and even though they decided to tear out the speakers, headphones, keyboards, and microphones, they decided that they should just take all the jump drives that had Artemis saved on them. I still have Ritzko, I suppose that's a blessing in disguise. Luckily I had emailed most of Artemis Book 1 to myself to read at work, so I will only have to rewrite the last chapter and the afterword.

I managed to get through work without breaking down in front of my coworkers, but to tell the truth I did have a patient that I found crying at 5 am and I ended up sitting with him and bawling my eyes out right next to him.

My boss has been amazing through everything, however I haven't told her yet that Robbie and I do plan on moving back to Michigan. We're waiting on his job to transfer and we've worked the budget to allow us to live on his salary alone for as long as we need to (while I'm unemployed). I have only told one of my coworkers what happened, and only because she had her house broken into last summer and I felt was the only one who really understood what I was going through. The others know nothing, and I don't plan on telling them anything until I leave, if then.

I stayed at Tammi's house one night, I'll probably do a lot of crashing there this coming week, what was a 6-day stretch of time off has become an 8-day stretch because guess what? To top off the week, Robbie's grandmother passed this morning around 4, and the worst part is that I don't have the strength to cry anymore, even when something really warrants tears. I know how close he was to her, when he said she was back in the hospital with her usual UTI CHF, I figured she would be right as rain and back home when we moved up there. So I work tonight and took vacation for the next two days. Hopefully I can pick up some time around the hospital in the stretch to save up money.

Penelope is still missing, and her sister is all out stressed and lonely now. She cries a lot, can't keep down food, I'm worried about the both of them. So we're taking Persephone up to Michigan with us for the funeral because we don't want to leave her alone for too long, she snuggled up to me for most of last night. I have faith still that we will find Penny, the biggest reason being that we have posters all over the damn place that offer a reward of $100 for her return, along with a picture of her. To be honest, she should be easy to spot, her fur is longer than any other stray, and her coloring is rather unique. It makes me feel better when I see people I've never met combing the area for her, calling out for her, $100 is a small price to pay for her if it gets her home. I know Robbie is lonely without her.

One of the only good things that happened this past week was when my sister came home from vacation and set right all of the mess between me and my parents, she then proceeded to buy me a new laptop, which I am typing this on right now. I'm in the midst of recovering my lost music, but it looks like I may have to wait a bit to get my Sailor Moon replaced, which kinda sucks because I could really use a good laugh right about now. Artemis Book 1 is in its own little folder on here, but I haven't put much work into finishing it yet. I'm still a little numb from the whole experience.

I guess I should start getting cleaned up for work? I have a few hours still, but there is packing to be done if I plan on leaving in the morning for Michigan for the funeral.

Immediately following my mood swing this morning, I cut my hair.

Well just the front, the back still comes to below my waist, but I did trim the ends thoroughly.

So I've got some posh-katy-perry-ish thing going on which I'm pulling out my headband collection for, and I went to Charming Charlie and nearly died. That place is HEAVEN! SO gorgeous and shiny! I picked up a few headbands from there.

I need to open up a little, I find myself too timid most of the time, I need to just throw myself out there.

I also probably need to see a therapist. With all the dreams and everything going on right now as far as my frustration with work I think a checkup on my mental health wouldn't hurt. ESPECIALLY with the dreams. Morpheus is not letting up.

Dear Universe,

What is the third law? These things have a habit of occurring thrice, correct?

1. Murphy's Law: Whatever can go wrong, WILL go wrong. (I get the short end of the stick, my mother's side of the family happen to have the misfortune of having this as a last name...).

2. The day you look like a scrub is the day you see everyone you know. (I've learned my lesson too many times to not keep a pair of flats in case I break another pair of heels running).

3. ... (profit?)

Updated my twitter a little. De'Angelo was making fun of it earlier saying it was the old version, to which I replied, "nah brah, it's generic."

I painted a glorious tree on the window of the hospickle Tim Hortons and all of its woody-barky-glory. I attribute my technique to hours of watching various artist's live streams for tips, and am quite shocked that I actually DID learn something.

Of course painting on windows made me want to break out some of my blank canvases. I have a half-finished painting that I rescued from the trash at the cultural art center that I wanted to finish. The original artist already did the brunt of the work by blocking out the building and the flowers, I don't understand why they would throw out such a gem.

We think Robbie broke his wrist. Roughing with the guys at a softball game. One of the girls asked if he needed an ice pack, of course when I asked him I worded it differently ("Would you like an ice pack or should I get you something to bite while I set the bone back in place?"). Two cold packs, some coban, and an ace wrap later he says he'll wait a week and if it hasn't gotten better he'll go get x-rays. Of course trust him to continue playing after the injury.

I'm actually having more fun writing the dialogue for the last chapter of Artemis, it's taking me much longer than it rightly should, but when it's finished I hope it will be as impacting as I want it to. All the sexual frustration is hilarious.

...because I feel like a COMPLETE ASS when I say it.

Valerie's jaw dropped, "That is blasphemous! How dare you? Buenae is our Father, Great Goddess Celeste is our Mother; all life stems from their union!"

Van Dean chuckled, "Then what are you? The offspring of an incestuous relationship between the Great Mother and one of her children?"