Lost?

Post delayed due to having to work on newsletter and such for the store. Will post later.

This is the first time I've come in this close under the gun, knowing if I stop to blog, I'll miss both deadlines!

Exhausted. But successful?

You know, I think if I were a bit worse at doing my job, I might be less stressed.

That said, my guts are better, I've dug somewhat out of the hole, and now seem to have found a backhoe as opposed to a shovel. Go me?

Today, I managed to sort through the major, uber-urgent items, but I haven't managed to get to the 'get organized' part of my plan. Still, I'm not drowning as badly as I was. Progress is progress, even it's measured in inches instead of miles.

I think I'm a bit too successful at the new job. For each thing I attempt, I create three new things to do. In terms of PR, I don't have money to work with. Let's face it - Dragon's Lair is a small business. While growing, we're not there yet. My job is to get the store exposure. My major tools? The website, my writing and my brain. Traditional PR tools for a business are advertising in various mediums and word of mouth. The problem with a niche business like Dragon's Lair in a city like Austin is that we have more competition for our niche than most niche businesses. There's only one store in town that specializes in fixing electric razors, for example. There are two or three vacuum stores in Austin, but they aren't all in the same geographic region.

However, Dragon's Lair has three direct competitors all in the same region of the city.

I can put stuff up on the website, send out a thousand newsletters, post up flyers, even get small mentions on the radio, but if no one is visiting the website, then nothing I do matters. I think the trick of it is actually going to be community. Some niche businesses have communities surrounding them, but very few are actually built around an existing community. Sure, a Janitor's Union might decide they like one vacuum store over another or a group of sharp-dressed businessmen might prefer going to the Shave Store more than buying from a large retailer, but there aren't really communities built around the use of vacuums or electric razors.

Gamers, comic book readers, manga and anime fans - these people, by their very nature, form communities. Without those communities, the interests or hobbies could not thrive. Playing games by yourself is not nearly as much fun as playing them with other people who are just as passionate about games as you are. Reading comics is fun, but discussing comics with your friends is even more fun. Same with anime and manga.

Gaming groups, comic reading clubs, manga and anime clubs - these communities exist with or without Dragon's Lair.

(Yes, Dreamsaint, the whole community thing did not escape my notice. You can stop chuckling at me anytime.)

I need word-of-mouth advertising to work for us. I need us to be a presence- a positive presence - in these communities. I need us to be the first place people think of when they think of gaming or comics or anime and manga. I need us to be the place people start and end at when it comes to providing them with the product and customer service they want. The problem with this is that Dragon's Lair is not a part of these communities. The other gaming/comcis stores? They are. They sponsor and host big events, such as Staple or their customers write internationally published and distributed gaming modules.

Why are they able to get this kind of recognition and we aren't, when we have more resouces, more longevity and more collected experience in our industry than any other store in Austin?

Because they have been able to reach out to and become a fixture of those communities.

I know some people argue that Dragon's Lair is too professional, too much like a big chain in policy and procedure and dress code, but that's a fallacy. Barnes & Noble is a major chain, but where ever they are, they are plugged in to the local community. The host signings by local authors, allow writers' groups to meet at cafes and allow writing seminars to be held in their stores. They provide a venue and support for these events, and the people who attend these events buy books and want to keep patronizing the locales that provide their particular group a place.

And big chain stores like that have smiliar policies and are even stricter about uniforms than we are.

So if both big-name chain stores and smaller gaming/comics stores can manage to do what I think we need to do, why can't we?

Inertia.

The First Law of Motion. Sir Isaac Newton defined inertia as this: A body at rest stays at rest, and a body in motion stays in motion, unless it is acted on by an external force. Dictionary.com also defines inertia as a lack of activity.

In order to correct the problem, I need to figure out why we have inertia. Why we're a body at rest instead of a dynamic force moving forward. Okay, so part of it is a lack of resources. Part of it is that we're sitting on our laurels. We're one of the oldest and most established game/comic stores in central Texas. For a long time, that's been our selling point. We're stable, we're steady, we're always here, so people can rely on us.

I like that. It's a good starting point.

It's time to get us moving again. The problem with being such a large and established presence is that getting us moving means I'm fighting physics. (Not that I haven't attempted to thwart natural laws before.)

I have to work carefully, slowly, and with great deliberation. I have to build us into communities, and I have to do it in ways that don't require money. Well, where money can open doors, so can hard work, persistence and follow-through. It's a lot of work. A commitment of time and resources.

Most of those resources are me.

Good thing I'm stubborn.

However, I think I can do this. I'm going to be going to YomiCon on Friday and I'm going to present some information to the Fandom Association of Central Texas' board on Saturday. The only snafu there is that I'm supposed to be off and spending time with Musuko.

And at some point, I'm supposed to go visit MuggleMomma to have lunch and pick up some software I need for the new computer.

The fact of the matter is that I'm able to start building these connections and integrating myself - and thus the store - into these communities and using those connections to reach out to other communities. I just hope I can actually make this work instead of falling on my face.

A lot of this is harder than I thought it would be. Some of it is easier.

I think, though, that once I dig myself out of the hole I'm in that I'll be able to do more than just frantically keep up. I'll be able to be more pro-active than I am now, and I'll be able to start integrating the San Antonio store into their communities. First, I have to figure out what communities there are in San Antonio and contacting them.

There's so much work ahead of me that it's daunting, but I can't tackle it all at once. I have to take it one thing at a time, one process at a time, and I have to get organized so I don't drop the balls I'm juggling.

That's my current goal. To get myself set up so I can juggle more, better, faster. I have to have an infrastructure to support what I want to create.

On a different note, I switch back to religion for a moment. Just a random moment in time that left me shaking my head in wonder at how God works. The Men's Lab at the Well has just started reading Wild At Heart by John Eldredge. I took one of the store cats to the vet today, and was reading the book while I was waiting for him to come see the kitty.

When he came in, he noticed the book! Not only is the vet a Christian, but he's probably fairly close to the Wellian ethic (if such a word can be applied to our way of doing things). He wants to chat a bit about the book when I finish it (he's apparently recommended the book to a lot of men he knows). I think I'm looking forward to that chat. That's a relationship I never expected God to work on, especially not like that!

Considering how much resistance we've had to starting the study, I'm not surprised God started using it within ten minutes of my starting to read the book. I wasn't actually going to participate in the study, mostly because I feel out of place at the Men's Lab, but after getting a prod from the Holy Spirit and having my father, of all people, ask me if I was going to participate and then seeing firsthand how much resistance there was to us doing this, I had to take part.

If only because thumbing my nose at anything that tells me 'you can't do this' is really an avocation for me.

(I was serious before: when dealing with serious Christians, you either have to decide we're crazy or decide we're on to something.)

Though I still have no real idea how I'm going to dig myself out of this hole and accomplish the things I want to accomplish for myself, I think it's at least possible for me to do so now.

Hey two posts in a row with actual content. Who saw that one coming? (And this one didn't even have bullet points. I almost miss them!)

Because failure is not an option

Bullet points, because they work so well. And I'm a fan of lists. One of these days, I promise to write real entries with real content that might have some relevance to me other than venting the pressure cooker that is my brain.

• My innards have issued their demands for my surrender, most of which appear to be a drastic change in diet. I think I am going to have to quit soda almost completely, at least for awhile. Tea, water and juice appear to be all I can drink if I want to not have issues. Also, eating more than tiny amounts of food (not even a regular-sized meal!) sets my guts off. I think this is a combination of a stomach bug and stress. I haven't ever had a reaction to stress like this, but I also haven't been this far behind at Dragon's Lair before.
  
  I know what this is. I thought I had avoided this fate. I'm nearly 30 and it hadn't struck me down yet. But it runs in both families. It was inevitable, I suppose. I mean, I got most of the other bad genes, why not IBS, too?
  


• The new laptop is the first new computer I have owned in five years. Transitioning to a new PC has been harder than I thought it would be, mostly because I have fine-tuned my old machine to the point where it's all set up perfectly for me. There's more sentimental attachment to this old machine than I thought I had, too. I almost feel guilty putting it out to pasture and switching to the new computer, but I know it's necessary. Although this old laptop can keep trucking for awhile yet, I think I'd feel guilty if I worked it to death. Odd, the kind of attachments people develop, isn't it?


• Musuko is coming into town at the end of this week. This is made of awesome and win.

Have I mentioned I'm behind on a LOT of things I need to do? This isn't just stuff I want to do, these are things I need to do. I have utterly failed at my job this week, more than I ever have at this job. I can't do that. I can't be like all the other people who have been promoted into awesome positions at the store and then developed fail. I won't be like them. I refuse.

I don't think I've even talked about my new position at work yet, but after whining about how far behind I am for the past four days, I think it's an overdue blog.

So! Storytime!

When I first started at Dragon's Lair, I had trouble getting into the groove. I was part-time and I don't do well part-time; I prefer working full-time, because I feel like I actually get things accomplished. I had left the pool job, was going to ACC, and my training at the new job was practically non-existent. I would say that for most of my first 90 probationary period, I was unsure about the job and they were unsure about me. I was asking a lot of questions, all the time. I was asking how and what and when and where and who and most importantly why. I wasn't sure I was comfortable with the store manager - AB - because she seemed to be very quiet, where the other two managers, PB and JK were very loud and vocal and present.

PB was my trainer. He's an awesome guy. He's the guy everyone, even me, wants to hang out with. He is one of the three or four most charismatic people I've ever met. He's smart, attractive, very fit and is able to talk about anything to anyone for any length of time. He own any conversation he's a part of, and is pretty much the most brilliant salesman I've ever met. He's also one of the worst teachers I've ever had. He was a Marine until circumstances forced him to leave the Corps. He threw me into the deep end with barely any training. He would give me a sketchy outline of what needed to be done and then leave me to my own devices.

I found out later that some of this was because there was no established procedures for a lot of things and that I was starting on the heels of a major personnel upheaval. The store was in some serious flux and most of the institutional knowledge had left. Not only that, the people I was replacing were the kind of people you don't want doing more than mopping floors under close supervision.

Now, I'm a smart guy. Once I realized that the lack of direction and supervision wasn't going to change, I had to change tactics. My last few jobs had taught me how to deal with micromanagement and exacting expectations from very present and involved management. Since Dragon's Lair was the exact opposite, I realized I couldn't count on my bosses to help me out. I started doing things my own way. I could say I took the initiative, but that sounds too self-promoting for what I was doing. I was trying to swim in the deep end of a business I didn't understand. I knew role-playing games, had a sketchy knowledge of comics, and absolutely no knowledge of miniature gaming, let alone the artistic side of miniatures. I had a growing knowledge of manga and anime, mostly in terms of finding out how much of it I really, really didn't like.

I'm horrible at math, and was expected to do some important money-math every time I closed out a register I was barely trained on.

So I did what I'm best at. I read. I read every comic I could get my hands on. I spent hours on wiki learning about the things I didn't know, so I could function with them. I read the help files on the point-of-sale program, which I found on the internets.

Without direction, I took the daily checklist as the Holy Writ and spent hours every day dusting, straightening and sorting the store until I could tell you where something was without looking. Whenever I got the chance, I got customers to talk my ears off about their favorite games, comics and manga.

And like I said, I asked questions. I discovered who could and would answer questions and who wouldn't. The manager I had been least comfortable with I discovered was anything but soft. Instead, I discovered a retail chess master - the Grand Admiral Thrawn of comic and games stores. Quietly, with a nudge here and a nudge there, she was shifting us all into positions and duties where we were best suited. She and LR, the office manager, would answer my questions with endless patience and with as much information as even my vast brain could hold.

In essence, I got trained by the highest levels at Dragon's Lair and came to even more realizations. PB and JK were dropping the ball, on a regular basis, when it came to the clerks. AB had noticed this too and quickly promoted slim_frame to manager. slim_frame is small, fierce and one of the best managers I've known. Where AB is quiet and nudges, slim_frame pushes and jabe and gets in your face about things.

By the time my first 90 days were up, I realized how little structure there was for clerks, mostly because of the previous management. So, I cheated. Everyone knew I AB and LR were telling me how they wanted things done. I just started telling everyone else that the way I was doing it was the way it was supposed to be done. Most of the time, I was just repeating what AB was telling me, but some of the time, I was creating systems and organizational structure on my own, applying my gift for organizing chaos. (A gift, which, it pains me to admit, I got from my mother.)

That got noticed.

AB started giving me additional duties. First, it was handling returns - sending damaged and overaged product back to distributors. I was asked to run a few errands here and there. Then I was asked to take over shipping. Somewhere in there, I staged a coup and got to take over newsletter. JK was doing it, but he's not a writer. I pointed out to AB that some customers had complained to me that the newsletter was full of errors and fail, and she basically said: "if you think you can do better, then do it."

I did.

Over the course of a year, I refined and changed newsletter. I still have more I want to do with it. Same with the website. Somewhere in there, I ended up becoming a training mentor and the Opener five days a week. As my job duties changed, I've ended up working a Monday - Friday schedule that is generally set around the 9-5 model.

Recently, I went to AB and basically told her I was thinking about leaving the store, because I wasn't making much money and was feeling like there wasn't potential for advancement. I wasn't needed as a manager (and wasn't sure I wanted to be a manager), but I wanted more. The stuff I would be really good at, the PR, is outsourced for the most part.

AB and I had a long talk and she basically promoted me from clerk to webmaster. I have more control over the web page, more time to promote the store online and in venues our outsourced PR person can't or won't promote us through. I also get to run most of the errands, and visit the San Antonio store.

I have more time to focus on shipping and returns and all the other duties I had been assigned. Like when I first started, there's not a lot of official direction - I have a set of goals and things I know AB wants, but it's up to me to create it and make it happen. It's up to me to make this work.

This is a rare opportunity for a guy without a degree. To be able to work PR and web for a successful, established business and to create my own niche job and job duties. I can define what my position at the store is and show them how many ways I can be useful.

Only this past week? I've dropped the ball. Partially because I'm sick. Mostly because I'm sick. And partially there are some bumps in the road in terms of transitioning to the new position; my co-workers, many of whom I have trained, are used to me being out on the floor, on register and able to back them up. I'm still able to back them up and available as a resource - after all, customers always come first. Dragon's Lair is what it is because of our customer service. However, as I'm moving into the new job, I realize how much some of my co-workers take what I did for granted. They're used to me being there at 9am to open the store and being on register...so if they're not there exactly at 10am for the first shift, it's oaky. Because I would be there.

If they wanted to wander off and talk to friends or work on projects that take all shift, that's okay, because I was there. I can man the front, help the customers, do my own duties. the checklist, and whatever the managers had for us that day all by myself. If there was a rush of customers, I would always call them up to the register and let them go back to their project when things slowed back down. I could always be counted on to skip my break to make sure someone else got theirs. I could always be counted on to schedule breaks, make sure everyone got everything done, and keep things flowing at the front. I would write notes to everyone else and keep abreast of what was changing in gaming and comics.

Because that's what I did.

In all fairness, I would have done just as much of that had my co-workers not done their own thing. Nor are most of my co-workers lazy. Almost all of the folk I work with on a regular basis have a solid work ethic and feel comfortable working on their projects (most of which are assigned to them) because I'm at the front, and even my extra duties (things above and beyond the daily checklist) are things I can do at the front end as opposed to in the back and on the sales floor. Nor does walking the floor, helping customers or doing daily chores throw me off those duties. Nor can any of them be expected to have the same level of multi-tasking I do. I've been working a lot longer than most of them and have carefully trained and cultivated my ability to multi-task over a series of years. It was a deliberate and careful training, too - multi-tasking is a learned skill, one I've honed for a long time. That they took advantage of my skills to make their jobs easier is not a mark against them. Rather, I think, it's something they should have been doing. Why shouldn't they let me do what I do well while they do what they do well? It's a mark of a good team, I think.

I could never manage sections the way some of my co-workers do. JW is the mistress of the DVDs and manga; AK is the mistress of Vertigo and DC. RL and MR handle Marvel, board games and the CCG cases. LP handles the miniatures, even though his job is Events Coordinator.

It didn't hurt anything if they were a bit late, because I was already there. Most of my co-workers have two jobs, are college students, or are working parents. That extra few minutes grace was something I could - and did - give them because I understood that they had a lot more on their plates than I did, even with my work at the church and the occasional tutoring job.

Now, I can't give them that level of support. Getting stuck on the floor for any serious length of time sets me behind. Having to do someone else's job as opposed to my own - which now encompasses a great deal more work than I expected - sets me back.

So part of what's happened is I've been set back and set back and set back - and then I got sick. Now, I'm in a hole. I think I can dig myself out of it, but I need a bit of time and space to do that, and I'm not getting it.

Mostly, my problem right now is that being sick meant I was too tired to work effectively. Part of is that I'm not organized. I'm not on top of things like I need to be.

Hence, a plan. First off, I need to get some urgent things done and out of the way so I can make way for just enough space to update my calendars, update my to-do lists, and figure out a plan of attack for the rest of it. I need to finish getting my new computer up and running as soon as I can so I can shift over from my laptopt to the new, more portable and less space intensive computer.

Then, I need to show AB that I'm worth it. That she didn't make a mistake by letting me basically write my own ticket.

It's going to be a helluva a hard week, especially since it'll be a short week.

But I haven't failed at this job yet. I haven't failed at Dragon's Lair yet.

I refuse to accept failure now.

As an end note, I want to thank everyone who's been commenting on my journal and supporting my personal blog challenge. Your involvement has been invaluable; knowing people are reading this makes it easier to blog every day.

I think, by the time I crawl out of this hole, I'll be ready to tackle my own writing again. Maybe sort out just that much more of my life.

Because I am so very, very tired of failing at life.

Nothing to say

Nothing to say because I have accomplished nothing.

I am no longer sick (or at least, no longer so sick I can't function), but the end result is that I haven't done much but take care of myself. I'm going to be so far behind come Monday that I don't know how to dig myself out of the hole.

But I'm not sick.

I still have to spend a night away from hom to avoid getting Mom sick, though.

*shrugs* Not sure what to think about any of it, really, except that I'm still behind, stuck in transition between computers, and really wishing I could get a few things finished.

Really? Really?

More bullet points. Maybe some real text. Because I fail at my own blog challenge just like I seem to be failing at life right now.

• I'm so stressed I can barely see straight. I need space and time to work on things, but I'm not getting it. My family won't leave me alone long enough to work on anything, and I can't think my way through getting dinner, let alone getting anything done. People need to talk to me about things before scheduling them.


• My brand-new computer may as well be a paperweight at home, because the wireless adapter is too advanced to connect to the home network. Ergo, I cannot has internets. I can't download anything. I can't chat. I can't get on my websites. In a word? Fail.


• I got sent home from work sick today. I thought I would go home and work on things and start getting caught up. But no. I ended up in the bathroom for a time. Then I slept. Why do I always feel guilty for being sick? Some days, I almost wish I had the lack of work ethic my 'peers' seem to.


• My innards are still staging their insurrection. They have yet to deliver demands for my surrender.


• Instead of sleeping in on a Saturday, my only real day off during the week, I am not getting to sleep in. I am not getting to work on things. No, I am taking the dogs to a 9 AM vet appointment. Why is is people schedule my time without talking to me first? I know I have no life. I know I'm supposed to serve others. I know being a good person takes sacrifices. But really? People could talk to me, so I can arrange all the things I'm supposed to do for everyone to make sure it all gets done.


• And really? I don't want to hear from most of you about taking time for myself or doing things for myself. Because the things that would help me or would let me do that, most of the people I know are either unable to unwilling to do, so unless you're one of the people who actually read the things I write or have helped me when I've asked for it, don't go there. (And if that comment makes you feel guilty - don't. Either you're able to help or your not.)


• I fail at newsletter this week. By all rights, my boss should write me up. I'm frustrated because I schedule one night a week to be able to do newsletter, and when I don't get the stuff on time, it crams me up pretty bad, but I still should be able to do it because I'm supposed to have time at work these days. If only I could start chewing through my list again. If I don't start getting a handle on things, I'm going to fuck things up again.


• No, I'm not overcommitted. I'm sick and crazy things keep happening to get in the way of me getting things done. People keep having emergencies.


• It's 11:30 at night and I have (sort of) had one meal today. I should try to eat, but cooking is too much damn trouble beacuse as soon as I leave my room, Mom wants to talk to me about things. I'm not allowed to be cranky, frustrated or stressed, because it makes her feel like she can't talk to me. I have to be a fucking cheerleader for her all the time. I can't be frustrated with Dad beacuse then he wants me to explain it all to him. No one wants to either just do the things I ask or get out of my way so I can do things. They all want me to explain everything, which takes more time, and then offer ideas, solutions and criticisms on what I do. I could go out and spend money on fast food (again), but really? Why can't I be allowed to function in my own home?


• I want Mom to turn off the TV when she wants to talk to me. I can't talk over it. I can hear it through my headphones.


• I have a cell phone full of contacts and a list of people who say 'I want to help', but no one can talk when I call and want to vent. But when someone else needs/wants me, lord help me if I'm not there. How does that work?


• Why can't the TV be off for even an hour or two? Just long enough for me to let my brain collect itself. I could go out to the garage, but then I have to be miserable in the heat. People wonder why I can't stand to watch television. That's why. It's never turned off. It's never silent. Ever. And no, I can't ask her to turn off the TV. That opens up a whole new can of worms I want to deal with even less than I want to deal with the TV.

So much going on, I had to use bullet points

• David Carradine passed away. I'll miss him. He was one of the few actors I liked enough to notice.


• God works in strange ways.


• I am so far behind that I can't see the tunnel, much less the light at the end of it. And yet, people keep asking me to do things for them. Is it because I'm just that good with advice and insight and help, or is it because everyone knows I never say no?


• My innards are staging an insurrection. No longer content with the brain running the body, my guts have decided they are now in charge. My intestines are winning the war.


• There is a cosmic conspiracy to prevent me from sleeping in during 2009. I have to help take the dogs to a 9AM vet appointment on Saturday morning. The morning after gaming, no less.


• I have yet to do set up the new computer, aside from a few very basic windows tweaks. This annoys me.


• I have a lot I want to say, but I can't afford to take the time to say it.


• I am so tired I can barely focus on anything.


• Did I mention my guts hate me?


• I'm teaching this weekend, and am hardly prepared.


• If I'm not able to start getting caught up, I'm afraid I'll drop the ball at work. I can't afford that. Especially not right now. Why can't (some) of my co-workers do their fucking jobs instead of being lazy? Be lazy at home. Don't dick me out of my best chance to do something awesome as a career because you can't bother with paying attention to the details of your job.


• will be in town soon. This fills me with glee.


• Really? My guts can stop with the rebellion now. They win! I promise I won't feed them food I don't know anymore! No matter how mad it makes the people I hang out with and around.


• The things that annoyed me in high school still annoy me. Cliques, bullies, enforced social standards with no use, no purpose aside from sucking money, and no real form and fucntion (fashion, TV, etc) still piss the hell out of me. Does that mean I was on to something as a teenager, or I haven't managed to grow up yet?


• I need a vacation away from everyone I talk to in person.

Don't wanna be sick

I should be writing newsletter for work.

It's not hard. Just time consuming.

I should be working setting up my new computer.

I should be doing lots of things.

What am I doing?

Battling with my guts.

Ergo, your regularly scheduled ramble by Jayiin is rescheduled until the insurrection in my innards has been put down.

Intense day

I went to Dragon's Lair San Antonio today.

It was interesting, excited and you really want to hear all about it. But if I tell you, I'd have to kill you. Or they'd have to kill me. Or maybe both. Either way, there would be a dire need for a backhoe and a mop, not necessarily in that order.

I got to (finally) meet Soror in person, which was awesome. We've emailed each other often enough about work-related things that putting a face to the email was good, and having a better working relationship (and hopefully a friendship) with someone from the San Antonio store is going to be a goodness.

The trip was fun; getting to hang out with AB and just chat about things both work and non-work related was fun. She and I have always gotten on well, and she's the best boss I've ever had. Every promise she's made me has been kept and everything she's tried to do with either store, she has so far accomplished or has made great strides towards accomplishing.

It was just an early morning, a fairly long time in a van, some heavy lifting, some crazy, some drama, and then more time in the van, more heavy lifting and then going home.

I found out that is just as insane as I knew she was. And that her Vision is going to become real, very fast. We're going to have some awesomeness soon. I also found out I am far more behind on everythign than I thought I was.

My new computer was there when I got home. It's been five years since I had Now, the case needs to get here.

It's been five years since I got a new computer, and I'd forgotten how much work went in to setting one up and getting it ready for use. I'm not nearly done - in fact, I've barely started.

I'm pretty excited, but I failt at blogging tonight since I'm so bloody tired.

I think I'm going to go to bed and catch up as best I can tomorrow.

Wish me luck.

Epiphanies, Visions and the Insanity In Between

"Eventually, when dealing with Christians, people have to decide one of two things: either you're delusional or you're on to something."
- - Dreamsaint

Okay, yeah, that's a paraphrase, But 'tis fairly true, I think. The quote struck me today, both because of the lack of comments on my last blog, and because of something someone said to me today.

I know I' m not delusional. I know I'm not crazy, either.

Insane? Well...that one's open to debate, now isn't it?

Have you ever met someone with an Idea? Has someone you know ever come to you with something so outrageous, so inspired and so freakin' insane that you wanted to laugh at them...and then watch and see if they could pull it off?

Has someone ever told you a plan and made you wonder if they were standing on the edge of greatness?

Greatness. That's right. I went there.

Greatness. It's a good word with a lot of meanings, such as "unusual or considerable in degree, power, intensity" or "extraordinary powers; having unusual merit; very admirable" or even "of noble or lofty character" - to say nothing of "distinguished; famous" and "important; highly significant or consequential."

I had that moment today.

A friend of mine presented an ambitious, insane and absolutely brilliant plan to me, and all I could do was start laughing. The more she talked, the more I laughed. All the while, another quote ran through my head...this time (no surprise) from Star Trek.

Risk is our business!
- - James T Kirk

Truth? This plan has nothing to do with money. Nor is it anything people haven't tried a thousand times before. Or thought of a million times more than it's been tried. Nothing new under the sun, right? No, this plan has to do with something near and dear to me, something embedded soul-deep in the most primal aspects of me.

Writing.

Fanfiction. Original fiction. Star Trek. Harry Potter. Babylon 5. And more. So much more. Only, instead of doing what everyone else has done, my friend wants to do more. She wants to create something greater than what has come before, something more lasting, something more enduring, something more powerful.

More than an archive.

More than just an internet library. More than just another fanfic site.

She wants to create a community. A community the likes of which I haven't really heard of before.

How can an internet community be great, you ask? I was part of Metal Machine Music for just a few short years, and it was a profound, exciting, energizing experience that still rides with me. The friends I made there are friends still.

Internet communities are about connection through common interest and are generally easier to create than 'real life' communities, because it's easier to find such things online.

And writing? Well, stories are such a integral part of our world, such a deep part of our society, our culture, our history...and there are writers everywhere.

It could work.

It really could.

The greatness would come when we actually succeeded, and we actually created a community people want to be a part of, that people seek out and join and jump into. It's possible. Hard, but possible.

Anything worth doing is worth doing well. It's worth it to try to fly if you fall of the cliff, because what do you have to lose? Even if we don't make it, even if we fizzle or we can't make it work, we'll have tried to do something awesome.

I think, at some point, every person is given an opportunity to be a part of something truly awesome. Something great. I don't think that necessarily means it has to be something world-shaking or of such huge import even a hermit like me would hear of it, but I do think anything great makes an impact, makes a difference and does something to make the world a little better than it was.

I think this idea, this vision she's had is something that could do just that.

Lots of people don't take fandom seriously, which, I think is a mistake. They don't take fanfiction, fanart, RPGs and the like seriously. Again, a mistake. How many lives do these things touch? How many people have to read and write and be interested to support the millions of fan communities that are out there?

What if someone dared to try to bridge communities, bridge original and fan?

Yep. I know. Been done.

How many of them had serious resources - maybe not serious money, but domains and server space and technical skill? A few, I'm sure. Places like Fanfiction.net.

But how many of those place are really built around the idea of community? I'm sure there are many, but I've never seen one that functions like what she had in mind, and I've been on fanfic boards, archives, RPGs and communities most of the time I've been on the net. So have a lot of you on my LJ flist.

But the opportunity to build someplace like that from the ground up, to be able to construct and design it and structure it to do what we want it to do, take an already existing 'seed' community and use to reach out to thousands of other like communities, and maybe, just maybe, bridge gaps that don't need to exist?

Yeah. Sounds crazy. Sounds hard. And maybe to some of you, it doesn't sound worth doing.

It does to me.

Worth doing? Totally.

Even if we fail? Utterly.

Are we going to try?

Damn straight.

So, once again -

Hold my beer and watch this. Succeed or fail, it'll be fun to watch.

Jayiin and the Crazy, Awesome, Very Insane Day

Okay, so I tried to parody the title of the book Alexander and the Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Day (I probably got the title wrong) and failed at parody. Does anyone else remember that book? I want to find a copy of it, but I never can.

I remember it being awesome when I was a kid.

So. I have less than an hour to write, edit and post what will prove to be one of my more complicated posts. Why will this post be more complicated? Because it's going to be my first real religious post, and that will open up a huge can of worms for me.

Really? My spiritual walk, my faith, my church - these are important, vital and central to my life. Blogging every day and not dealing with these topcis isn't something I can do - because of that, there will be posts centered on that. I've thus far managed to skirt it, even in posts where those factors played major roles. Mostly, I haven't touched on them much because I'm a coward. I haven't wanted to have religious debates on my blog or deal with some of the questions that might arise.

Until I now, I could get away with it beause I was a fairly casual blogger. However, at least until October 31, I'm a fairly serious blogger. Though most of my first few entries have been short on substance and long on failed wit, not all of them will be. I am not going to friendslock any of my blog challenge entries because that feels a little like cheating.

So. Read at your own risk.

I'll put most of it under cuts, so no one has to read. Those of you following on blogger or a blog reader that doesn't support cuts - you have been warned.

Today's service at church was one of those services where the Holy Spirit was working overtime. Usually, when a month has five Sundays in it, the Well has a contemplative prayer service. Usually, this combines mystical, liturgical, prayer and praise and is focused around directed personal time with God. Dreamsaint will lead off with an explanation of what we're doing and why, open us in prayer. We'll sing a bit and then get started. At the end of the service, we'll have Communion and break for lunch before having a Baptismal service.

This week, we already knew two of the kids were being Baptized. I've have had the privilege of watching several of my students accept Christ, which as been an awesome, humbling experience.

Today, the service was an Ignatius Examen, except instead of focusing on a single day, we focused on the first six months of 2009.

I wrote a lot in my journal and had some profound revelations about where my head is at. A lot of it, I liked - I needed to realize that I am doing better at focusing on Christ and acting as Christ than I thought I was, but I also needed to see the places where I have failed utterly or need to work on more. There's a lot more of the latter than the former, but that comes with the territory - none of us perfect. We're all broken in some ways. Damaged goods. No matter how hard we try, no matter how hard we work, how much we do and how far we go in our walk with Christ, we will never reach the pinnacle of what we are capable of, let alone reaching the goal of living and acting as Christ.

That's where Grace comes in. We don't have to. If we truly believe in Christ, then we're going to try. We're going to fall short, we're going to fail...but we're going to keep trying, because we believe it's the right thing to do. Because we believe, because we love Christ and because God keeps His promises, we're already forgiven. It's not about the end result - that will work itself out, one way or the other.

Except...once you've given yourself to Christ, once you've truly decided to believe and truly decided to follow Him, you know what the end will be.

But that just means the journey is that much harder, because once you set your feet on the path of Christ, then God will direct you, and sometimes it's harder to follow Him than it is not to. We follow, not because we're earning some Heavenly reward, but because we know it is the right thing to do.

Sounds corny. Sounds too good to be true. Just believe, and be given eternal life with God? To be promised Union (if you want to get Evelyn Underhill mystical about it) all because you believe?

Yeah. That's all there is to it. Except, it's hard to admit you're broken and you can't make things work on your own. It's hard to admit you're wrong about things in your life, that you can't succeed, you can't become all you need to and should become without God. It's the most brutal, visceral kind of humility and it comes on you like a metric fuckton of acme anvils hurtling from the sky as if they were meteors on a crash course for an extinction-level event in your brain, heart and soul.

It doesn't matter if it's a slow, gradual thing like it was for me or a blinding instant of realizing - for a moment, you're standing naked in front of the Creator of the Cosmos and you realize how small, frail and hurt you really are. You're buried under the weight of everything horrible you've ever done. Drowned in all the things you can't do. Crushed by the undeniable and utterly horrific fact that you are empty, alone and there is something awe full and awesome missing.

For that moment, it's just you and God.

There's no words to describe God. There's no words to describe that moment - and conversion is the greatest Mystery in faith, I think, because it's so different for every person. So personal and individual that no writer or artist or poet or philosopher is ever going to codify it any more than we can truly codify people. There's no way to explain all the factors or moments or decisions or thoughts that push and shove and nudge a person toward that moment where they accept Christ. It's a cosmic Butterfly Effect so personal and powerful and unique that you almost never see it coming until you don't know what to do about it.

Accept Christ. Now there's some hard words to write about. You accept Christ is real. You accept God is real. You accept you are broken. You accept you are flawed, imperfect and unable to ever escape that. You accept Christ loves you. God loves you. God not only loves you...God likes you. He wants a relationship with you because you are His creation, you are His child. He wants you in his existence. He wants to know you, to talk to you, to listen to you, to help you. You accept that love as something bigger, greater and more consuming, more powerful and overwhelming and incomprehensible than you can ever grasp.

You accept God knows more than you ever can understand. You accept God's leadership, guidance and authority over you. You accept the only way to make being broken truly livable, the only way to be free of it, to face it and to make it better is to accept God's love. God's sacrifice.

You accept God is right and you are probably wrong about how your life works, where it should go and what you should do with it.

Talk about hard. No one likes to be told what to do, least of all me. I hate havig people in charge of me, telling me who and what I should or shouldn't be. I hate rules that say what I can or can't do, what I can or cannot be.

You've all heard me say it at one time or another.

But.

I am broken. I am flawed. There is more wrong with me, more ways I am a horrible, no good, terrible, very bad person than I can ever write or speak or tell in any way.

God still loves me. God still likes me. God still wants me around.

God.

The Creator of Heaven and Earth. The beginning and end of all things - alpha and omega. The being, force, power, Prime Force - the center of the universe, the all-encompassing ineffable, indescribable, incomprehensible, omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent Lord and Master of All Things loves and likes me. The fat, stupid little geek who spends too much time writing and reading fanfic who can't get out of debt and can't help but fuck up everything he does.

Today, I got to see that moment on the face of my brother and on my friend.

At the end of the service, right before Communion, Dreamsaint did something he almost never does: he offered an invitation for people to stand up and say: "I need Christ."

I know the invitation is pretty much tradition in most churches, but the Well doesn't usually do it, because we don't work that way. We try not to push people, pressure people or put people on the spot. We don't want to make them feel uncomfortable or like there's something wrong with them if they aren't ready to stand up in front of the church and deal with that moment with dozens of strangers they might not want to have to talk to about it.

But Dreamsaint said he was 'under orders' to give the invitation today, so he did. He said his piece, almost in tears because of the sheer presence of the Holy Spirit being there, working on us all...but my brother stood up.

So did my friend.

My brother has been coming to the Well for a couple of years now, off and on, and has been moving towards this for awhile, I think. My buddy has been dancing on the edges of this for a few weeks, too.

We already had the robes. We already had the service planned. It was the easiest thing in the world to add them in the line-up.

Off to Barton Springs spillway we went. Now, I know some people don't hold with the idea of Baptism, because once the decision has been made to accept and follow Christ, the act of Baptism is just a formality, a ritual - a public confession of faith (which is necessary for accepting and following Christ, but that's a topic for later). There are lots of ways to publically confess, lots of rituals and symbols and formalities.

It's true. Once the decision is made, that's it. You're a Christian. You're a follower of Christ.

But there is something truly transformational about Baptism, and it has to be important, because otherwise, why would it have such a prominent place in the Bible? Baptism is part of the mystery of conversion (and conversion happens whether or not you're raised in the church. Every Christian is born again and a convert.) Baptism is part of that process. What part is plays...I'm still working on that. It's different for every person I've talked to. For some, it was just a formality, like signing your name to a contract or shaking hands when you meet someone. It didn't do much for them...but other things did.

For others, Baptism was a profound and life-altering experience with profound consequences for their Christian walk.

I'm glad I was there when my brother was Baptized. I'm glad I was there when my buddy was Baptized. I don't know what role it will play, but I'm glad was there. I'm glad to have been there when my students were Baptized.

It was humbling and inspiring and full of awe. Did I mention humbling?

(Just for the record: I claim no part in their coming to Christ. It was all God working his miracles. If I did play a role, it was incidental at best.)

I will say, however, that Baptizing in public like we did was something of an experience. We do things this way for several reasons. For one, we aren't going to hide who and what we are, and people seeing folk being Baptized and seeing how we treat it, seeing us - as normal people, with kids in swimsuits playing in the water. Seeing us drinking sodas, smoking, laughing and enjoying hanging out, just like they are...but also seeing us as Christians.

It's a way for us to be incarnational and to try to be a part of the community.

It's also practical. It's free and convenient. We don't have much money and we don't have space of our own, so we have to find a way. The Barton Springs spillway works as well as anything we've tried, and better than some.

None the less, it's not easy for me. I am not an outdoorsy person. I know, a lot of people scoff when I say that, and think I'm not appreciating nature or think it's because I'm fat or lazy or just don't care to try to enjoy it.

Maybe they're right.

Then again, maybe not. I'm allergic to nature, for one. I have fibromyalgia for another. It's painful to walk down the trails to the spillway, and it's no picnic navigating the rocks and wet out there. I'm hot, sweaty, itchy, hurting and generally miserable. The water is cold enough to make me hurt when I get in, and the amount of energy walking down there and walking back up take is simply staggering.



Needless to say, I've ended up with hives, a limp, and a bit of a sunburn.

Not too high a price, really, for getting to be there.

I have, however, finished re-writing CH6 of HPU.

I still need a haircut.

And I still want my new computer to come!

Because I can't thnk of a title

First off, congratulations to Ozy for finishing Torch Song in time for her to get in for printing with the NaNo winners' offer from last year.

And yes, that sentence made sense to me. If it doesn't make sense to you...I'll probably edit it later.

Also, congrats to MuggleMomma for finishing her TwiCon fic. I beta'd said fic today, so that was one thing off my to-do list. Which, really, makes it sound like it was a routine thing. I've been looking forward to beta'ing that fic for a few days now.

I'm getting a new computer. It's been shipped. I feel like a little kid waiting for Christmas!

Really? I'm not sure what to blog about, because although I had topics earlier, my brain has deleted them for some reason.

Today has been made of fail. Most of what I wanted to get accomplished, I didn't.

I didn't finish the rewrite of CH6 for HPU. Or start CH36. Or post a chapter. Or clean the bathroom. And I still need a haircut.

You get the picture.

That's it. I need kids to make this thing more interesting.

Anyone got any I could have cheap?

New computers and vampire poo

So. Today. A recap? I think not. Too easy. Too simple. Too boring for me, because I already lived it. Instead, you get the highlights.

First - random. Barack Obama likes Jalapenos on his cheeseburger. Why is this important? I have no idea. But I've seen it on two different sites tonight. So, it must important. The internets told me so.

*sage nod*

This morning, I went to work. Surprised? If you are, you obviously don't know me.

At work, I have a co-worker. She is a Transient Being, an abstract concept made flesh by the combined will of all living beings. She is the embodiment of a terrifying Idea, brought into existence by a terrible act of the cosmos.

She is the Little Sister.

She can find your weakness, your kryptonite and will find a way to push every button you have. She will slime you with hand sanitizer. She will poke you at in opportune times. She will make the dirtiest jokes in the cutest voice. She will torture you with things you never wanted to know existed.

And she will tell you about vampire poo.

Yes. Apparently, vampires poo. Always diarrhea. And it would be sparkly and metallic, because they would strip the useless minerals from it. And like vampire bats, they would have to pee while they feed.

Talk about takikng the romance out of vampires. "Sorry dear, I peed on you."

Also. I bought my new computer today. A netbook. The Asus Eee PC 1000HE. I can hear the outcry now. I wasted my money, I should have saved more and bought a 'fully functional' laptop or whatever. But here's the thing: I don't play computer games. I don't do much more than write, do basic web design, surf, and listen to music. And the netbook? Will have three times the ram of my current, five-year-old laptop. It will have almost three times the hard drive space, and a similar processor.

It will be smaller, have an awesome battery life, and not be five years old.

Don't get my wrong. My Dell laptop is awesome; it has lasted me five years and is still going strong. I could get another couple of years of life out of this thing, easy. But it's time for me to upgrade a bit, and to get a portable computer I don't have to plug in to use.

I'm really excited about this. I read lots of reviews, did lots of research, talked to several IT professionals who have one, and really? I think I made an awesome purchase.

I also bought a carrying case and a 500 GB external HD. It'll all be here next week, and I will be happy.

I hope.

Yeah. Boring post is boring.

I need a haircut.

Finally - you know it's a good day when you can give your boss a hummer.

(In this case, a remote-controlled Hummer for her nephew. Pervs.)

Video games are cool. Who knew?

I'm sitting in darkjediprincess's living room, waiting to go pick up fuds. I have to do newsletter for the store, but as I have my computer and internets where I am, why drive all the way home and not be able to inflict my running commentary on someone in person?

I went over to her place because I had the dumb this morning and forgot to bring her DVDs with me to work. DVDs I've had, mind you, for over a year. We keep missing each other when I try to get them back to her. Or I forget. I brought them over and made myself comfortable in her living room and she started showing me this game called Mass Effect. The game is pretty damn cool.

Strip clubs, politics, lesbian sex, courtesans, lesbian sex with courtesans, gratuitous violence, cool sci-fi settings, fast ships, hot blue chicks, lesbian sex with hot blue chicks...

You get the picture.

Did I mention there's lesbian sex?

I think I finally understand why so many gamers sit around on their couches and play these games. They really can get almost everything they need from video games, including a virtual fuck.

(And to think I was worried about what I would blog about tonight.)

Okay, really, today was boring. Busy, but boring. I mean, who wants to read about me fixing the girls' toilet or hear about me being alone at the front during the busiest part of the day - again? I figure people get tired of hearing the same old stories from me time and again. Hell, I get tired of that story.

It's sad that I don't have much else to say, I think. But, I manged to blog.

Though, I will also say some of my co-workers don't know me very well. When they pulled my books last night, they didn't pull the Star Trek Omnibus.

I'm still watching her play the game, like a stoner watching a disco ball. I can't look away and have the random urge to say: "Whoa. That's freakin' cool," about every ten minutes. I have no desire to play the game m'self, but I sense it has a story.

I want to know the story. All of it. Right now.

But I can't, really, because the story shifts subtly every time she plays the game, or so she tells me. It looks like it would get boring after playing awhile. Grinding is not for me. Repeating the same action time and again is not for me.

I know the arguments that D&D is the same. Find yon ancient ruins. Invade. Kill the inhabitants and steal their stuff. Save the world. Lather, rinse, repeat. I think the difference is in the human element, the interplay between the characters that is lacking in video games.

And why, I think, I'm still not interested in playing. But watching while I try valiantly to make my brain focus on writing newsletter? That, I can do.

Also, there's lesbian sex.

Standing Witness

Today, I played a small role in a big event.

Long story short: last summer, my friend JK adopted four kids - as a single mother. Four siblings, actually. J, S, A and R. Over the course of the last year, I've gotten to watch as they became more and more of a family. I've spent time with the kids both in and out of church and have gotten pretty attached to them. There's an earlier post, , where I talked about going to R's school for the 'bring your dad/uncle/brother/male family friend' to snacktime.

It's a powerful thing she's done. A powerful statement about who she is and what she wants to do with her life. She's a social worker for CPS, which means she deals with hurting kids all the time. I've watched her play Aunt to about half the kids at the Well. JK is a woman with an endless capacity for love and an iron will.

Today was the connsumation hearing for the adoption. JK had asked that as many people who could be there. Dad and I went; it took some wrangling, but we both managed to get the time off and get Mom situated enough she didn't need us for the afternoon.

When I first set out to write this blog, I figured I'd say something like 'today I say a family being created', but that's not true. They've spent the last year creating their family, and JK spent years before that preparing to have a family.

Even saying that today made it 'official' isn't right, because what law or proclomation or signature can make real what already exists? It can merely acknowledge, through ritual, what is already there. During the proceedings, JK accepted parental rights and responsibilities for the four kids, but - she'd already done that, long ago. She's been their mother for a year now. They call her 'Mom' and they've been using her name.

All the judge could do today was acknowledge what all fifty or so of us who came to support her already knew.

Yes, I did say 50 or so. Dad and I weren't the first or last to arrive, and as we sat in the chairs set aside for fat people (comfortable armless chairs set against the wall), people kept arriving. A few here, a few there - more and more people trickling in to be a part of the legal ritual.

People do love their rituals, don't they? We have rituals for almost everything. Physical expressions for abstract concepts, rote routines created to symbolize and commemorate moments and events and milestones. Rituals permeate our culture; we're fascinated by them, both the ones we understand and the ones we don't. We're flattered and honored when we're invited to take place in them, and we get offended when other people don't take our rituals seriously.

"What we hold sacred gives our lives meaning," - yeah, it's a quote from Babylon 5, but it's been a few posts since I used sci-fi to make a profound point.

Today was a moment, I think, that will define the meaning of 'family' for those kids for the rest of their lives. Even if some or most of the people who came to the courtroom drift away, or they outgrow the memories of today, I think knowing that many people came to support them as they were officially adopted will leave it's mark.

It was an amazing thing.

Small towns in Texas are places out of time, combining hints of modern with the past. The courthouse was no exception; it was beautiful and old and steeped in history. The seats weren't made for people my size, but there were some modern chairs off to the side, behind the jury box, that worked well for it.

The judge walked in and we all stood. When it came time to swear in the witnesses...the judge was flabbergasted that he would be swearing in the entire courtroom. More than fifty people stood, raised their right hands, and swore to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

The attorney questioned the placement agency representative, presented an affadavit from CPS, questioned JK - and then questioned the other witnesses. The rest of us. All fifty of us. We answered yes - JK was the right person to raise those four kids.

Question after question, a ringing, echoing chorus of 'yes' reverberated through the high-ceilinged room, leaving the judge smiling and the attorney grinning. (The attorney had been forewarned about the possible turnout - the judge had not.) The attorney questioned the kids, and then the judge brought them all up to bang the gavel. Each of them got to bang the gavel.

Of course, the youngest banged it the loudest. *grins* RK is still my boy.

It was over faster than I thought it would be, but I think the statement was made - no matter what happens, JK and her kids won't be going it alone. They have a whole community behind them, willing to be there for them and with them as they go forward, officially a family.

One saying I've heard all my life is "you can't choose your family, but you can choose your friends," and the older I get, the more I think that's a lie. JK chose her family - and the rest of us chose to be her family, too. Families stand together and stick together.

Friends, you can walk away from. Family, you can't.

Awkward. (And happy birthday xdrumrboi

Why yes. Yes, this is a backdated post.

It's not cheating, because I haven't gone to bed yet, even if the calendar changed from May 26 to May 27. I'm still awake because xdrumrboi and I went to see a late showing of X-Men Origins: Wolverine.

Happy birthday, bro.

So, I've been thinking about this blog challenge I've set myself and all the things I'm doing to make sure I keep it. Blogging before I surf the net, keeping a list of back-up topics and taking it one day at a time instead of thinking about just how long it is between now and Oct 31.

I'm not thinking about all the things I have to get done between now and then.

A list of 'backup topics' you ask? Why yes, yes, I really am keeping such a thing. Most of them are boring rambles, and some of them will 'expire' after awhile. None the less, I have them for days when I have nothing else. But so far, I seem to have a lot more to blog about than I thought. In fact, my brain seems to be writing the posts as I walk around during the day. Hopefully, I don't need to tell you that everything sounds much better in my head and I can never remember how things were worded when I finally sit down to pound on the keyboard.

The problem with having more to blog about than I thought? That means my lack of blogging in the past wasn't due to lack of content, as I've been pleading for years, but intellectual laziness, which is more than a little embarrassing.

*clears throat*

Enough about that. We can explore all the ways I humiliate and embarrass myself in later posts. There's plenty of time between now and Oct 31 and there's no reason to rush into things, now is there?

I thought not.

But since I think it's cheating to have an entire post about blogging about about my challenge, I figured I'd find something more interesting to say. I could review X-Men Origins: Wolverine or any other movies/books/comics I've partaken of lately. I could talk about birthdays and what it means to pass milestones and get older and get gray hair in your beard. (Not that I know anything about that.) I could talk about family traditions, hanging out with my brothers, or even about being a comic geek going to a comic book movie.

All kinds of good, psuedo-deep stuff that would make me feel intellectually superior and make me think I'm actually saying something important.

It's way too fucking late at night for that kind of intellectual masturbation, so I'm going to tell you about Madi instead.

Awkward moment was awkward.

So there I was. At work. (No one die of shock, now.) A customer comes in the door. Obviously female; has all the right curves. Has boobs. Nice make-up, if a bit much of it for my taste. Earrings, pale green nails. Headed straight for the yaoi manga.

Yep. A girl. Probably the annoying kind, too.

Nope. Wrong. A guy dressed as a girl. Now, this doesn't bother me. I work in Austin, TX. Normally, it doesn't even phase me or make me think about it. I do the customer service thing and move on. Well, Madi wanted to rent anime. After I gave him/her excellent sage addvice on what to rent ("go ask someone who knows what they're talking about. I don't like much anime, let alone watch it."), I gave her/him a rental form to fill out.

She/he does. (Sorry about the pronoun thing. I really don't know the etiquette here, and no one I've asked has ever explained it logically. Since I don't know what pronoun she/he prefers, I'm erring on the side of caution.)

I check the ID and the credit card. The name? Not Madi. A decidedly male name. Definitely his/her ID, though.

So I look again. I get that faint throbbing right behind my eyes that always happens when I have to have an awkward social moment with someone because they've done something that means I have to cross one of those invisible lines people aren't supposed to cross in the social context of retail clerk and customer. (I never get the headache in non-work situations. I suppose because I'm only making me look like an ass outside of work. At work, everyone else looks like an ass, too.)

But I have to tell him/her. It's policy, after all.

The name on the ID, card and form must all match. I tell Madi so, apologetically. I don't use the 'sir' or 'ma'am' I normally would, because - pronoun confusion. Since the ID indicated an age less than mine and I have gray hair in my beard, I pulled rank and used 'Madi' instead.

When I told Madi she/he had to use the other name, the look her her/his face was so hurt, crestfallen and disappointed I felt like a right and utter prick. But it wasn't my fault this time! It's store policy! We have lots of people with odd nicknames they go by. Toaster. Pumpkin. Bumper. They have to have their real name on official documents too!

Madi, to her/his credit, didn't argue. Just changed the name and signed with the correct name.

I hate making people feel bad when there's no reason to.

Like I said. Awkward.

The Rule of LAW

The Rule of LAW is simple: He (or she) who writes the fewest pages buys the beer.

'tis a good incentive to write every month, really. Especially when you make as much (read: little) money as I do. LAW, of course, stands for Lazy-Ass Writers. It's a writing group started by a former Dragon's Lair colleague of mine - The Red Haired Ninja.

No. Really. She's both a red head and a ninja. Just ask her and she'll tell you Hopefully while smoking a cigar. (Which is a story for another time, I think.)

Regardless, I attended my second LAW meeting tonight, and did not have to buy the beer. The (former) Bounty Hunter, the Red Haired Ninja's fiance, had to buy the beer. It's good to get into a writing group agian, especially one where I'm not The Guru or the Newbie. It's a good fit and a lot of fun to have a nice dinner, some cheap booze, and talk about writing until long after we all should have gone home and gone to bed, especially considering we meet on Monday nights.

It's a very writerly thing to do, really. Especially since it's just a 'we'll meet on a Monday roughly every three or four weeks'. No set date. No set schedule. Keeps us on our toes, because we never know when, exactly, the next meeting is, so it's hard to schedule a serious speed writing session. It's kinda like NaNo-lite all year long.

Oddly enough, it seems to happen the Monday right before payday (I get paid every other Tuesday).

It's a helluva lotta fun. Oddly enough.

And to my dismay, fanfiction doesn't count. Because really? If it did, I'd never have to worry about losing. I could just keep churning out HPU and steamroll everyone. I mean, the story is over 500k words and I haven't even gotten them to Hogwarts.

Also: yes. Anyone bothering to read this is NOT imagining things. I am blogging two nights in a row.

Why, you ask, am I tormenting you with more drivel about my boring, geeky life? After all, you've gotten by just fine with my quarterly epics for some time now, avoiding having to pretend to care about my existence for most of the year.

Well, bad news. I'm going to try to blog every night between now and October 31, 2009.

I'll fail, of course. You know that. I know that. But it'll be fun to try, while adding another level of delicious, self-imposed stress on my already strained brain. I figure it's both good training for LAW, NaNo and in brevity. Because if I dole out my life and thoughts in a miserly manner I am unaccustomed to, I might have enough almost interesting, psuedo entertaining thought vomit to make it from now until October 31.

My inspiration for this noble quest? Aggiebell90 has blogged every day since September 2008. I figure if she can do that while managing Phoenix Song, ringing in a couple of handbell choirs, singing in a choir, working a full-time job and raising four kids, I should be able to churn out a post a day.

All sarcasm aside, it's been awesome to watch her dedication to her writing and to be part of her cheering section.

(Considering the absolute flood of comments I've gotten on the last two posts, I'm sure I'll be cheered on.)

(So much for putting sarcasm aside. Sorry!)

I've got a few ideas on how to do this, other than not writing everything that comes to mind every time I blog. I can blog before I start surfing the net and checking my sites, because then I won't be distracted. I can blog right when I get home, before my body has had time to realize how tired I should be. And I can take my copious notes about the world and use them as blog material. Because talking about myself all the time?

Well, there's a reason I normally blog about once a quarter. I'm boring.

Now the rest of you? Are just good material.

Or, at least, I hope so. Otherwise, I'm gonna end up buying the beer.

Pouting & puppy eyes make me do bad things

Yes.

A meme.

Ozymandius Jones pouted at me and gave me puppy eyes, so my will power and meme-shielding collapsed. So, without further adieu, I give you Ozy's Writing Meme.

Under the cut (or not, if you're reading this on Blogger) is a list of my current writing projects. Ask a question about something. Ask anything about any idea listed here, and I shall attempt to answer it. I reserve the right to not give away Important Plot Points, but otherwise...have at it!

Major Works

• The Katheryn Story - I haven't written on this for far too long, but I am untangling the story and have had several good scenes and revelations pop into my head in recent days.


• Starfire Quest - not much written on this but one NaNo draft that will forever be condemned to the depths of my hard drive and LOTS of notes. Story has lots of potential, if I can only figure out what the actual plot it.

Other Works

• Semepr Fidelis - written for a contest a few years ago. Won Honorable Mention. But it wasn't quite good enough, so I'm re-writing it before November.


• In Absentia - sequel to Semper Fidelis. Will be this year's NaNo.


• Worlds Asunder - old novel idea. Still has potential. Needs to be re-written.


• Path of Thorns/Path of Tears - same as above, but needs a lot of work.


• Addictive Community - a non-fiction peice about smoking and smokers' culture

Fanfiction

• Harry Potter & the Unforgiven - finished CH35. Gotta work on the re-write of CH6 and starting CH36. Epic Harry Potter fanfic.


• Zoidsfic - post NC0 fic about the powers controlling the Backdraft. Started.


• Voltron Fic - a Keith/Allura fic about what would happen if the Galactic Alliance wanted to take Voltron for it's own. Started.


• One Moment - a semi-erotic little HP ficlet about one moment in time. Not started, but fully plotted.


• Ascension's Shadow - semi-abandoned Buffy fic. Would need a serious re-write before I could do anything with it.

So ask questions. Or pass along the meme. Whichever strikes your fancy.

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to all the proud Mommas on my friendslist! Y'all do more than you know, working a more impossible job than I can ever know.

Thank you.

Happy birthday day to em2mb. I can't believe you're already 21...or that we've known each other this long. Normally, I know I'm supposed to call you on your birthday, but you called me. *grins* A fact which I may even let you live down one day.

A happy belated birthday to fancifulreality. You're gettin' there, kiddo. You're gettin' there. Not too much longer and I might have to start telling you half the things that go through my brain.

A post on Star Trek and the new movie to follow at some point in the relatively near future.

Missed Milestones

So, I've been getting those poking feelings in my skull. You know the ones. Where people poke you when you don't post in your blog.

*rubs head* Some folk got sharp fingers. Just sayin'.

I should totally be better at this blogging thing. I have so many random thoughts, running narrations and absurd moments in my life that it should be easy to keep a daily record of all the things that go through my head that I really shouldn't share. Somehow, I never get around to writing them down.

Some people would think this is a good thing.

Some people would bug me to get on twitter. Which isn't happening. Because I would post nonsense. And follow no one of any import. Or ignore it completely until people with sharp fingers poked me.

Which really? Some of you should trim your nails.

(I am in a really strange mood tonight. I'd say ignore me, but some of you wanted me to post.)

Milestones. I thought about going deep and emo with this, but I decided instead just to comment on two missed milestones. My car - which used to be 's - finally broke 100,000 miles, and I completely missed it happening. Poor thing.

And on April 3, Katheryn turned 14.

Don't judge me. I'll finish the damn thing someday. Before I die. Or after. Lots of authors have finished stories after they die. JRR Tolkien did it. Twice!

To punish myself, I'm going to do a writing exercise. (Someone said it was a meme, but I don't do memes. That makes it a writing exercise.)



Concept

One of your OCs is being interviewed. Make up a reason why, if you really need one.

Rules

1. You must choose only ONE of your OCs. Do it again if you wanna use another OC.


2. Your OC must answer every question as truthfully as possible.


3. When you're done, tag as many people as you want.


4. Have fun!!!

If this were really just a meme, I could get away with writing it with questions and answers as opposed to writing a quick scene. So, I'm going to write a scene.

The girl sits across the white marble table, in front of the windows. The sunlight spills around her in a halo - a spotlight she'd never want. She is a tiny thing, with the delicate features of a child. Her pale skin is washed out against the stark, unrelieved black of her clothing. High-collared and military cut, it makes her seem even smaller, even more striking against the bright white marble and the golden sunlight.

It's hard to believe this girl is the one they say will save us all. At least, until you look into her eyes. Her eyes are dark blue, flecked with violet and streaked with silver. They are alien eyes that remind you who her mother was. It makes you think maybe, just maybe, she really does have Immortal blood running in her veins.

She smiles, but the expression doesn't quite make it to her eyes. Her mouth quirks into a half-smile, charismatic and knowing and enigmatic while seeming to share a private joke. It's hard not to like her, despie the distance she tries to keep between herself and everyone around her. She's alone in the room; she wanted to answer questions without anyone else around.

Some might call that brave, but it seems more like she doesn't want witnesses to what she might say.

"Everyone knows you as the Daughter of the Stars, the Silver Champion. What's your real name? What do your friends call you?"

She shrugs, her eyes following the holo-drone recording the interview. She sits perfectly still, utterly motionless, except for her eyes. She's at ease, calm, relaxed, with the hint of barely suppressed motion. Like a predator. It's vaguely disturbing, but seems to fit her well.

"I'm Katheryn Tariana, gaija of the First Blood of House Neila, Second Blood of House Liera, Heir-Apparent to the High Seat of the Outworlds Alliance. Duchess of the Katarian Holdings, Knight-Defender of the Empire of Terran Worlds, Warlady of the Disinherited." She pauses. "Most people call me Katheryn. Others call me less flattering names."

It's hard to know what to say to that. She's not the most popular girl with the First Blood or the Houses. She did start a war - two of them, actually. She's never so much as apologized for either.

It's also hard not to think she might have been right. What would have happened if she hadn't killed the Eridani envoy? What would have happened if she hadn't led the Disinherited to attack the Combine?

Regardless, no one can deny her tiny hands are soaked in blood.

"You've done so much the past few years, been at the epicenter of so much. You look to be so young, but no one knows for sure. How old are you?"

She shrugs again, putting layers and depth of meaning into the simple action. "I don't know. It's been...15 years, give or take, since Lord Treshair took me from my home and brought me to New Ontario. I don't know how old I was when he took me. I could be anywhere from 20 to 25."

So young to have done so much. To have so much blood on her hands, to have so many lives resting in her hands. On her word, millions go to die. By her decision, our entire civilization rises or falls. It's sometimes hard to put faith in prophecy or Power when you don't walk the Halls or stand with the Houses, but sometimes, it's hard to deny that logic or reason make it impossible that one girl could do so much, be so much without some greater reason.

But who is she?

"You're a mystery, Warlady. You're known for galactic upheavel, epic grandstanding and starting fights other people have to finish. But what does the interstellar heroine eat for breakfast? What's her favorite food?"

She smirks. It's a smirk that's just a fraction of an expression away from being scorn or a sneer or even a snarl. "Simple stuff, mostly. Sandwhiches, wraps. Food you can eat on the go or sit down and enjoy. I grew up eating fancy feasts or field rations, so 'normal' food is a bit exotic to me."

Her answer feels honest, at least. Maybe she's opening up, de-mystifying herself?

"What about a favorite drink?"

She actually looks a bit sheepish. "Herbal tea."

While she seems off-guard, it's time to find out something deeper, something to give people a way to understand her.

"People want to know more about you! Do you have a lover or someone you're courting?"

Her expression changes, becoming unreadable. Her strange eyes grow hard and sharp and her head inclines ever so slightly, her long, dark hair shifting with a whisper of sound.

"Next question."

"There has to be someone! Have you kissed them? Have you had the romance every First Blood girl dreams of?"

She shifts and the air crackles around her in a not-so-subtle reminder that she doesn't need a weapon to be dangerous.

"Next question."

"Right, then. How about another classic? Favorite color?"

Her expression changes and the tension drains out of the air. She relaxes a bit again, the half-smile tugging at her lips. "Not black."

It's hard to remember that she wears black because she's gaija. Tainted blood. A bastard child. Some say she wears it as a concession to the Houses, others say she has other, deeper reasons.

Stick to safe questions for the moment. Let things stay calm. "What about a favorite author?"

She's quiet for a moment, thinking. "I don't know. I don't read much for fun, though I love the works of the bard StarFreedom."

Of course. The bard who set her on her path, who inspired her to stand against what she saw coming. Against the Combine and the Immortals she claims control it.

"What about your biggest fear?"

A smirk again, eyes bright with bitter amusement. "I'm living it."

"Many claim you're a hero. Some claim that you're their personal hero. What about you? Is there anyone you look up to?"

"My father." Her voice is a whisper. Her father is a dead man; a warrior who stood against a veritable army of Treshairi Assassins on the steps of his own Palace. He died with his blade in his hand and the blood of his enemies running in rivers to stain the reflecting pools red.

She continues speaking. "He never doubted me. He never let me want for his affection, his love, even when it was forbidden for him to give my even that much. He stood against a corrupt system, held to his Oaths to protect his people. He gave up the love of his life, his daughter, his family, everything that mattered to him to do what was right. He was killed for it."

Time to press deeper. "Your worst enemy?"

Her eyes flash, flaring bright with luminescence. The air crackles again and the temperature drops in the room as her Power wraps itself around her in a mantle of barely suppressed energy. Silver and indigo burn on the edges of vision.

"Lord Treshair. Treadwell. The Grey Lord." She whispers his names as if he can hear her voice. And it's possible he could; the Grey Lord is the boogeyman in every closet, the knife at every back. Ageless, powerful beyond hope or reason - the last of the Immortals. A remnant of a lost age, the only survivor of a war that shook the foundations of the universe.

The most powerful man alive, some say. A myth, other say.

"He was my teacher, my friend. He was my father's closest ally." Her smile grows, but it is a cold, hungry expression. "He killed my mother so he could manipulate me into being your fucking messiah. He let my father die so I could take his place. I'm going to kill him."

The matter of fact delivery of that statement is enough to make anyone shiver.

"You face things most people can't even imagine, Warlady. You've seen things, been a part of things in ways that defy understanding. What would you do if you met your creator?"

Her face contorts. "Which one? Does it matter? I am already what they made me. I know why I am. I know what I am. I was never allowed to know who I am, because if I know that, they can't control me."

Enigmatic, much like the lady herself.

"What's your worst nightmare?"

She shakes her head, her hair falling around her like a curtain. Her voice is strained. Hoarse. "That everyone is right. That I am a savior, a messiah. That I have a destiny."

"You say you fight for everyone who can't fight for themselves. Do you have any dreams for yourself?"

"No," Katheryn chokes the word out. "No. I can't. I can't have that hope, because if I do, I might forget the path."

Okay, that sucked. Next time, I spend more time on it. Now, bedtime.

Maybe a bit of reading. I do have a signed copy of Turn Coat to read.

I has a sick (and that meme of Aggiebell90's)

Yes. I has a sick. As in, I have a virus. I know I was just sick at Christmas, but now I have to be sick again. The symptoms are different, so I know it's not the same thing. I'm not sure if I'm grateful I got something new or if I'm pissed I'm getting sick all the time. When did my immune system start to fail like the rest of me? Time was, I couldn't get sick for the life of me because my allergies were meaner than any bug out there. I suppose as I've gotten older and tamed the allergies, the mean and nasty bugs out there have decided to prove their worth in the natural order of things by destroying the one part of my body that actually worked.

I even had to go home early from work today due to excessive hacking. For some reason, no one wanted me coughing up my innards all over the store. Something about health hazards and no one wanting to share this wonderful experience with me.

Except my boss. AB was also home sick today. She and I both missed something cool, which further proves she and I share the same luck-fairy. One of these days, we're gonna find the little blighter and fire 'em. Litearlly. Just wait. I always have matches. And lighters. I'm a smoker, after all. I'm good at making things burn.

*coughs* Right, then.

So. A meme.

Yep. I got suckered by one. Aggiebell90 got me. My fatal flaw - curiosity!



This was posted on her LJ:

Association Meme: Comment to this post and I will give you 5subjects/things I associate you with. Then post this in your LJ and elaborate on the subjects given.

I couldn't resist! I had to ask her what five subjects she associated with me. After I posted the comment, I realized I would have to reply to the meme and write this post. So *shame*. I am participating in a meme. I can hear homicidalsh33p laughing now.

So, without further adieu - five subjects associates with me. Be warned. I get a bit...well, snarky in places. Maybe a tad sarcastic. I know. I know. Shocking, right?

1. *That* - Yes. The word 'that.' The most overused word in the English language, in my opinion. I am on a crusade to liberate the poor word from the chains of over-use and mis-use! When used wrong 'that' can aid in the creation of such things as passive voice and construction, excessive verbage, and imprecise language. 'That' is needed less than half the time it's used, and even the times it's 'needed' the sentence an often be re-written in a more active voice without using 'that.'
   
   If Aggiebell90 thinks of me in conjunction with 'that,' it means one thing: I have beta-read for her! I even asked her about it! She said: Every time I catch myself writing 'that', I ask myself, "What would Jayiin say about this?" and either check to make sure it belongs there, or I totally reword the sentence so I don't have to think about it.
   
   See? My great crusade proceeds apace!
   


2. Percy Jackson and the Olympians - by Rick Riordanis one of the best YA fantasy series out there. I rank it up there with anything by Tamora Pierce. In short, the titular hero, Percy Jackson is the bastard son of Posideon, the Greek God of the Seas. It's a fantastic series, well worth reading by anyone who likes fantasy, YA books, or just good stories. I discovered the books through a young friend at my church, and in turn helped Aggiebell90 discover them. I even sent her a spare copy of the 4th book in the series. I had bought my own, but was given a copy at Christmas.
   


3. WizardTales - WizardTales is, in my opinion, one of the best growing fanfic archives on the web. I've got more history there than any place except maybe FFn. Its one of the few archives I've stuck with for more than a few months. WizardTales was closed for a time, but has recently re-opened. Originally just a Harry Potter fic archive, WizardTales now accepts stories from Harry Potter, Twilight, Lord of the Rings and The Inheritance Cycle.
   
   WizardTales offers something a lot of archives don't: moderated fanfiction without enforced restrictions on 'ship, canon-compliance or any other niggling pains in the ass most places impose. Now, don't get me wrong - there are reasons, and good reasons, for archives that are 'ship-specific or who insist on canon compliance. I respect those archives for providing a safe place for fans to go and read what they want to read, just like a respect places like Dark Lord Potter for providing a place for people who want anti-canon and darkfic exclusively. WizardTales is a place for people who fall in the middle. People like me, who are writing stories that have one or two 'ships that make them ineligible for canon-compliance sites or 'ship-specific sites, but which still hold to trying to remain in character and in line with the vision of the original author. My own story, Harry Potter and the Unforgiven is being re-posted there. Each chapter is being beta-read by MuggleMomma.
   
   With the re-opening of WizardTales, I've found myself with an actual position there - I'm the Associate Director of Public Relations. What that means, exactly, we're still working out, but it does mean I'm on the Executive Board. I'm excited about this - excited enough that I've invited a few friends to post their work there, including Aggiebell90. I beta-read her amazing story Impressions and - she posted it! She's visited our forums and chatroom.
   
   Her story made a huge impression on the people who read it! My buddy Carpelocke got to mod her story, but I got to approve her request to join the forums! She's already been added to our 'featured stories' - and is sure to stay there awhile! Though, I now owe her Neville-centric HPU outtake, because she came to the chat.
   


4. Austin - As in the city, Austin TX.
   
   Fun city. Where I live (sort of). 90 square miles surrounded by reality. Weirdest place in Texas. Gay Mecca of the south. Live music capitol of the world and capitol of Texas. That embarrassing rhinestone on the Bible Belt. Home of Leslie. A place where even bums can (and do) run for public office. Home of Eeyore's Birthday Party and other random excuses to publicly smoke pot and otherwise become stupidly shitfaced for not other reason than excessive dumb and the need to express it in a way that offends people with manners, rednecks and most people who bathe. We're a liberal college tourist town that also happens to be one of the most conservative places in the whole country. We're indie, hip, full of new ideas, live music, art and artists, hippies, corrupt politics, dirty politicians and more tall tales than you can shake a weed whacker at. We have rednecks, hillbillies, professors, more colleges than any sane town should have, and enough 'friendly' rivalries to make other places violently riot. We can do mardi gras as messily as New Orleans, upstage Washington with political antics, and produce more than our fair share of Presidents hated by the civilized world. Oh, did I mention we have politics?
   
   We also have local color to spare. We can give any two entire nations their own brand-spankin' new cultures and still have culture and color left over. We have coffeeshops, bars, historical monuments, municipal modern art projects and enough bleeding hearts to fix the world blood supply deficit - except most of our bleeding hearts only bleed when they're getting a handout from someone else. After all, why work when you can be a hippy, bum, or starving artist and have everyone take care of you?
   
   We've had O'henry, pun-offs, Bobby Flay flipping over Flip-Happy Crepes, new agers, vikings, SCA, geeks, and even scientologists hanging out in the same place at once - and no one killing each other.
   
   Truth is, folks - I make a damn poor Austinite. I don't visit the local places to eat or drink. I hit fancy (read: cheap) chains, scarf fast-food at places like Whataburger instead of Dans'. You won't catch me dead at anything having to with the torture called live music (crowds? Me? FUCK no. Not now, not ever. I'd rather have a root canal without novocain than deal with a crowd.) I absolutely loathe most coffee houses. They aren't built for guys my size. I don't drink coffee. I break the second-hand kitschy furniture, or get stuck in cushy couches, and end up spending way too much money on cheap tea or bad fancy soda - when I would have been much happier with an ice cold coke. There's never a power strip outside where a guy can smoke a pipe in peace - so my poor laptop (and thus my writing) get no attention at coffeehouses. Most of which play music I hate, have food I can't eat (MSG and tomato in almost everything. Or, it's all diet with all kinds of artificial sweeteners I can't have) and people who see a fat guy dressed in all black and grace me with well-practiced sneers.
   
   To my shame, there are a few Austin places I couldn't live without. Dragon's Lair, for example. Or, Pipe World. Or all the book stores. So many beautiful book stores. I also seem to know the city pretty well. I'm not a human map like my father, but I can get anywhere I need to be with relative minimum of fuss, as long as I have decent directions. I've eaten at or visited most of the local restaurants (enough to know what they do to my digestion) and have delved the divine dairy goodness of Amy's Ice Cream.
   
   So while my city is a cesspool of many of the things I hate in the world and can barely tolerate most days, I don't think I could live anywhere else. Because I certainly do my part to keep Austin weird.
   


5. HPU - Odd, that this one comes up last. I think when people start identifying me with the stories I've written lasts and other things first, they're actually becoming my friends. Scary, that. Before too long, Aggiebell90 will be calling me at midnight needing a favor or having me drive out someplace in the middle of nowhere when she's got a flat just like the rest of you. *grins* But at least she reads my writing. Unlike most people I know.
   
   Speaking of my writing, that's what this part of the blurb is supposed to be, yes? Harry Potter and the Unforgiven. My insane fanfic. I've been writing fic of one kind or another since I was a little kid and was addicted to Star Trek fanzines. I've written papers on fanfic. I've given talks on fanfic.
   
   But Harry Potter and the Unforgiven is my fanfic albatross. Or opus. Or whatever you want to call it. I started it four years ago during one of the darkest and most painful periods of my life as a short fic that would take place over the course of the summer after Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
   
   I read that book and got so mad at Dumbledore and the Order. They had Stupid Mentor Syndrome worse than anything I'd seen! None of the adults in the HP-verse, except Molly Weasley and (somewhat) Sirius, have a leg to stand on. Did you notice McGonagall never apologized to Harry, Ron and Hermione for not believing them in Philosopher's Stone? Where was Remus Lupin most of Harry's life? Where were all the people who suddenly love and adore him and care about him most of his life? Where was Albus Dumbledore?
   
   If McGonagall hadn't liked the Dursleys, why hadn't she gone to check on him a time or three while he was growing up?
   
   Out of sight, out of mind, it seems.
   
   The whole idea of it made me mad, so I decided to answer some questions I had from Chamber of Secrets about the magical bond between Harry and Ginny (I was a H/Hr shipper at the time) and play with a plot bunny I had bouncing around my head.
   
   So I did. And the first draft of HPU was born. From that brief interlude into fanfiction, a character sprang forth - Gracie McCallister. And from her, Harry's journey began. I started to ask myself other questions. What if Dumbledore had a real reason for what he did? What if most of the adults in the HPverse were really as pig-ignorant of the real situation as they seemed? How did magic really work? What about Voldemort and Dumbledore's duel? They used magic we hadn't seen before - and they fought in a very stylized, almost formal way. What if there was a reason behind that, too?
   
   The story began to take shape. The plots began to take shape. What if Voldemort really were as evil as Rowling thought? What if Voldemort had a plan to deal with Harry? What if the Ministry were as corrupt as it was inept?
   
   With each what if, HPU got an added dimension. Except, I wasn't feeling H/G. Not until I read Harry Potter & the Power of Emotion by Melindaleo. Then I was a H/G convert. I read more H/G fic, just letting my brain steep in it.
   
   And HPU really began to take shape. However, I stopped writing it for a year or so, when my life was complete and utter...well, it was bad.
   
   When I took the story up again, I completely re-wrote it, and I've been refining that re-write ever since. I always ended up stuck at the same point in the story, though - right around the middle of the second story arc.
   
   Though, it appears I have broken that particular block, as I have recently finished ch35! It's been a four-year odyssey, but I seem to finally be cresting the hill I've been trudging up for awhile. I think, if I can get some momentum on the story, I'll finally get it done! Maybe the end of next year! (There's a lot left to write).

Okay, so that meme is meme'd out. I shall not succumb to another! (Except maybe the one Aggiebell90 tagged me on yesterday. Because I have to keep being nice to hear until I can write the Neville fic I owe her.)

Also, random moment:

• A met a girl with the name Kitiara. Yes, named for the Dragonlance character.