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Showing posts from April, 2012

“Things Every Southern Woman Should Know How to Make”

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Alice clicked on the headline, mildly curious about what yet another stranger thought should be in her kitchen repertoire. Pictures of China plates mounded with crispy fried chicken, greens, cobbler, and a pile of biscuits a mile high flooded the screen, all set off with a pitcher of sweet tea beaded with condensation. The table was set; an apron draped off to the side next to a box labeled “Gramma’s Recipes” in fine calligraphy. She closed the browser and put away her tablet. She was born a Georgia peach, but she couldn’t make a cobbler to save her life. Did that mean she wasn’t southern? Or maybe just not “Southern.” For Alice, there was no recipe box full of family traditions. Her younger years were filled with rental homes in different states and her father’s voice coaxing her toward a text book rather than a cookbook. Metalworking and fabrication held more interest than learning to flambé or sauté. Did it make her less of a woman that her cooking skills consisted of fresh salads
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Things That Are Awesome

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I want to wear this shirt everywhere. Found it wandering around Kohl's this weekend! I love THE PRINCESS BRIDE. What is something you'd like to see on a shirt? Leave a comment!
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Poetry: Fine Arts Major

He’s still, An island in a river of meandering flesh that drifts from point to pointlessness, A bitter flood of the mundane digging deeper into the rut of everyday, of life cycles forged by bread-winning and role modeling, stage playing for children, picket fences painted white only on one side Because it’s the outside that matters. He’s still, Watching the canyon of unhappy, misspent lives yawn wider and wider still, absorbing more of the career-oriented whose young minds were filled with dollar signs and thoughts that they would succeed, shown only that painted side of the fence; Now they find the groove is a rut because everyone followed the dream of marketability, and the wave left them at the bottom of the tide pool. He’s still, the successfully shut out writhe around him, fish on the shore of a river that rushed finance over love, career over dream, and they flound
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Sucker Punch: A Movie with Writing Tips?

I finally watched Sucker Punch this weekend. (I know, I’m behind the times.) Besides the entertainment of the crazy genre mash-up and trying to keep up with not two, but three realities—I’m pretty sure there was three—the end had a good point. I don’t mean “know your weapons and use them” bit. That’s a good thing to do. Using your imagination is awesome, of course. Everyone should use their brain. No, the part that stuck in my head was “know whose story it is” . Sounds so simple, doesn’t it? Yet, how many times do we as artists lose track of that simple idea? I know I’ve done it. I’ve written scenes that I loved only to have to cut them because they detracted from my main character. I’ve come to abrupt halts in projects because the character I thought was the main character suddenly wasn’t. To get myself back on track, I ask myself where I veered off course. In some places, it’s a matter of tweaking the wording. In others, it’s cut and rewrite. And in a few, I have to ask mysel
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The Beautiful Dying: Why I Love Certain (Maybe) Doomed Characters

I love Lia Habel’s zombies in DEARLY, DEPARTED. I also love Jem Carstairs in Cassandra Clare’s INFERNAL DEVICES series. Both the zombies and Jem know they’re living on borrowed time, but they make the best of it. (If you haven’t read these, you might want to look away now. I’m keeping it as spoiler-free as I can, but the topic makes me reveal things you might not want to know beforehand.) The zombies, having overcome the psychological torment that they’re already dead, keep going, keep fighting to help others and to find a way to stop their disease from claiming more of the living. They don’t bemoan their fate. Sure they’re not happy about it, but they accept it. And having done that, they put their remaining time into a goal. Jem. Lovely, talented, mortally poisoned, Jem. He heads toward his inevitable premature demise with grace and kindness toward others. When his affliction overwhelms him, he takes his anger and frustrations out on his violin strings. He’s caring and
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Ramblings of a Casual Gamer: Final Fantasy and Why I Don’t Love the Latest Ones

In a previous post, I talked about my late-found love of video games and how Final Fantasy VII was my entry into the gamer world. Now, I want to talk about the franchise and why so many fans are pulling their hair out. Many of us are hoping against hope that FF: Versus XIII will revive the joy we felt playing the older games. There’s a lot of talk about how the new games have lost their Final Fantasy feel—not that they’re exactly bad games, but like the movie FF: Spirits Within, they shouldn’t be called Final Fantasy. Here’s my deal: Like a good book, Final Fantasy VII had characters. Real, fleshed-out, past-bearing, issue-having characters that felt real. As I progressed through the game, new tidbits would come out, and there was always another story behind the one I was experiencing. It gave FFVII a depth that allowed me to immerse myself in the world.   Now, others had great characters, too, but some (ahem…XII) the characters fell flat. Honestly, the only one in FFXII tha
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Poetry: Donors Wanted

Vampires don’t bite; They syphon with tubes and needles, And the blood is warm as it flows across your arm through the surrogate vein. The magnets claim someone needs blood every three seconds; And you count the seconds (one two three) As your life is drained. A fine cabernet for the undead.
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Book or E-book? From the POV of a Casual Tech User

I like technology. Maybe not as much as some people. My newest computer is from 2009, I have exactly 29 apps on my phone that I actually downloaded, and I do not own an iPad. I do, however, own a Kindle Fire. It’s a nifty device. I especially like that fact that I can read my personal documents on it. I’ve read a few books on it, but I’d still rather have the real thing, and here’s why: Lighting. My Kindle is great indoors and in the shade, but if I happen to be outside or on a long trip in a car, the glare on the glossy screen makes it too difficult to read. Battery. I sometimes go for days without using my Kindle. When I get it out to read, I often haven’t read long before the low battery warning comes on. Then I’m crawling around trying to find an outlet. Can’t toss it around. I read all over the place. Sometimes, I’m interrupted (puppies demand play time, fiancé needs attention, mom calls) and I just sit my book wherever…not always in the best spot. If a paper book h
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Poetry: Undefeated

Scales, gleaming, flash emeralds under a jeweler’s lamp The dragon shakes his spike-crowned head Golden mane rustles, the sound of the maiden’s skirt. Talons black, puncture the hard earth Diamonds envy their sharpness. The red west reflects from his eyes Fire brilliant gems Wide, yawning, jaws open revealing dental daggers. Steel protrudes from one massive flank a token of battle waged Belly encrusted with the spoils of war Mountainous beast, a trophy none may claim.
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