There is no middle ground when handling live fire.




Why Depression is Startling

When you’re feeling it – it isn’t startling.

Nothing is startling.


Ha! I finally know and understand the definition of apathy.

Unrelated to apathy –




I feel like some invisible disease has punctured my skin, slithered in, and has found a way to live inside me, parasitically changing me, holding me in a strange in-between, a madness, a muted, a roaring duality of pain and nothingness.

Trapping me from within, trying to squeeze the breath out of me.

It’s like a living entity is sitting on my chest; squeezing my heart in a fist of silver and hardness, harshness, imbuing it with sharpened flecks of poison; languishing in my gut, knotting me into coils and pressured twists; cracks breaking through the veneer.

And how am I still alive?

Am I?

If I barely swim to the surface of myself.

Sometimes this is all I have to give.


The madness has to come out sometime.

And how blessed am I? Writing gives me a way to breathe.

If only I’ll stop trying to control it. It isn’t always going to be pretty; it’s coming from within me. Sometimes giving the disease swarming inside me, leaching to my bones, and scratching at my soul with metallic nails – words, a voice, helps me.

Instead of leaching inwards, only swirling inside my rib cage, I can spill it onto the page and let it live there.

It may be a little worrisome to those who have never dealt with depression (depression and feeling sad are not the same thing, by the way). Perhaps it’s a little depressing to read for some.

But for me, it’s like expelling poison.

A saving grace.

That, is why I write.

How maddeningly beautiful, how simply poised I find it that both poison and the cure live inside me.



On Genre Fiction being the Scum of the Literary World

Why do you read books?

I mean seriously. Why bother? Its paper, ink and made up people and places and mostly none of it is true.



Do You



Stories. People like stories. They’re fun. They’re an escape. They teach us something, even if we don’t consciously realize it. Stories help you understand yourself better, as you decide what you think and feel because of everything you just read. Or you have parents that beat you and stories give you a place to live that’s safe from your reality. Or you simply have your head in the clouds and love the adrenaline rush of being someone else inside your head.



Of Books

Do You Read.


Anything? Everything? A specific genre? A few different genres?

I know you’re supposed to have read books in school, mostly literary novels. You most likely hated them, hated having to read them. I know you’ve probably read the dictionary, at least one word on one page, if you’re my generation. Younger and you might have simply googled what the word meant, but hey – it’s still a dictionary. I know you’ve read fluff pieces on or in a magazine whether it’s on the internet or in the grocery store line that never ends. I know you’ve probably read your children’s crazy words if you have kids. I know you’ve read your own inner monologue if you keep a journal.

The list goes on.


What Type

Of Books

Are All of Those.


Literary, nonfiction, cozies, informational, fictitious, stream of consciousness.

Is one of those BETTER than the other? Did any of them AFFECT you more? Did you end up LOVING one of those and now you search out that kind of writing, essays and books everywhere you go? When you’re in the store for diapers or canned soup, do you check the book racks to see if there’s anything good? Do you wander around the used bookstore? Wonder if your sister, children, mom or best friend read, and if so, what?






All of them.

End of story.

But because this is real life and real people are contradictory, let me explain.



I Write the

Scum of the Earth

Why? Because I don’t write non-fiction or literary novels. I write fiction. Fantasy, horror, paranormal. Dear cookies in heaven, I’m the devil!


There’s this



It’s an opinion really.

That all genre fiction (for example, what I write and romance, adventure, etc) is scum. It is pointless. Shouldn’t be read. There are snobs who turn their noses up at it and declare the writer of such garbage a freeloading brat who needs to get a real job, while the literary author gets to work and does something real, something important.





I have no idea. Maybe it’s one of those things where young people turn their noses up at old people, saying they’re better. And old people look down on young people, saying they’re ignorant idiots with easy lives. People apparently aren’t happy with themselves and need a “reason” to put others down, elevating themselves. In their head only, that is.

Regardless of where I go, all I hear about is people deciding they’re better than other people.

When really, we’re all just opinionated. We have opinions. We have likes.

I like books.

Do I care what kind of books you read?

NO! No a million times over. As long as you enjoy books, I’m a happy camper. And if you don’t like books, well that sucks and you’re missing out but hey, that’s you and I’m me.


See How that Works?


Honestly, I’d like for people to get over their selfish snobbery and pull their heads out of where the sun don’t shine.




Right now.


I like what I like. You like what you like. The garbage man down the street likes what he likes. The kindergarten teacher, too.


Does that make me stupid?



Does that make the literary writer stupid? The suspense novelist stupid?



Writing a book



I cannot stress this enough. I don’t care if you’re writing for professors, chemical engineers, third graders or the mom who has five minute breaks every couple of hours. WRITING THE FREAKING BOOK TAKES WORK. Hard work. Hours every day, just like a “real” job.


Genre Fiction



Literary Fiction




One bad apple does NOT ruin the whole bunch.

So knock it off.

I should be able to take a creative writing course in college and not have a professor look down on me, belittle my work and call it scum because the monsters aren’t 100% human.

But I can’t, now can I?

Because apparently, genre fiction is the scum of the literary world.

Now how


does that sound?

Hope for Horror?

I love horror movies. It’s what I grew up on. But horror movies have lost their majesty for me lately. Why? In short; They suck.

They all follow the same basic plot:

(Person/group of persons) are (attacked/tied to supernatural/horrific creature/incident) and (fight to get out of/break free from/kill the horrific problem).

They don’t.

They all die.

The end.


It feels like the person writing the horror movie is flipping me off.

Not to mention it’s boring. And I don’t bore easily, so that’s saying something.










Holly-mallow brought a movie home from school from one her friends, who all are avid horror movie watchers, and I’m very glad she did.

The movie was “Mama” and while not the most terrifying and not the most horrific in terms of the creature, not the quickest or slowest at build up or suspense, it had a good plot. It wasn’t annoying or stupid. The characters didn’t do stupid things that EVERYONE IN STUPID HORROR MOVIES DO, they didn’t have the stereotypical characters doing stereotypical things. And the ending was great. It had a down point – so it still kept to the horror movie tradition of not having the “happy ending” but I liked the ending. And I wanted to watch it again.

Another horror movie I saw within the past year or so and liked was “Insidious”. It was creepy, people didn’t do stupid, annoying things, and everyone didn’t die at the end.

You know that movie, “Cabin in the Woods”? It had some major stereotypical stuff going on and everyone died in the end but it didn’t annoy me. Sure, I wouldn’t watch it again because I don’t think it was that good of a movie, but the stereotypes and the dying in the end – it meant something. It told me something, it made me think about humanity and how far people are willing to go to keep themselves safe.


If you want to write a tragedy, write a tragedy. But tragedy and horror are two different genres! The occasional tragic horror is all fine and dandy but every single one?

Horror is supposed to expose the truths we don’t want to take a look at. It’s supposed to disturb us, creep us out, show us things that could really happen and scare us into taking a closer look at the “monsters”. Horror isn’t meant to be only superficial scare tactics. Horror should MEAN something, tell us something, expose something, make us think.  Fear can tell us so much about ourselves, society, and how far we’re willing to go to stay safe. Horror takes the deepest, darkest part of human nature and pokes at it. And then hopefully it shows someone rising above it, above the darkness and fighting it. Whether they all fail or not isn’t the point, it’s that they tried.

But when every movie ends with them failing, and is filled with nothing but the superficial, it loses its entire point for existence.









When every single horror movie, book, and show is made for shock value – lots of sex, lots of blood, lots of gore, lots of screaming – and no plot or characters to make you  think, or that you even care about, it loses its value.

There was a guest post on Kristen Lamb’s blog the other day and I read it after writing this up (I wrote this post three weeks ago) and couldn’t agree with her guest blogger more. I also find it interesting that we were thinking the same thing as the same times, but I digress. You can find it here – really go read it, then you’ll know I’m not the only person who thinks horror should have meaning.


So because I find it impossible to rant about something without getting goofy as well, AND I find myself laughing more than being creeped out with the past seven horror movies I’ve seen, here are some things that drive me nuts about horror movies that I think have gone past being overused, stripped of their value, or just make me throw objects at the tv. Because, come one, I’m not going to throw food. Food is good.



This is how it’s going to go down….

  1. Blond or have a rack? You’re so going to die first.                                                    
  2. Having sex? Someone is going to kill you.
  3. Are you annoying and everyone is yelling at the screen, wishing you would die already? Yeah, you’re going to live.
  4. The hot chick that mysteriously looks perfect and has a bad attitude? She’s going to get you alone and eat your heart out by sucking it out of your earlobes. And no one is going to suspect her.
  5. “Hey! I’ve got a good idea! Let’s split up!” *headdesk*
  6. She is not going to remove her high heels. And she’s going to trip. And then crawl instead of getting up again and running.
  7. The “Deer in Headlights” moment: Someone pointing a gun at you/coming at you with a sharp object? I know – you’re not going to move. You’re going to stare at them and whimper, like that’s going to save you.
  8. Your flashlight and/or cell phone? It’s going to die the EXACT moment you need it.
  9. Everyone is going to ignore all the coincidences.
  10. “My car wont’ start!”
  11. The killer is stalking you. It’s silent. You’re hiccupping, screaming, whimpering, begging, MAKING LOTS OF NOISE, because that’s not going to help the killer locate you.
  12. I’m being chased. Hey – why don’t I run up the stairs, where there’s no way to escape and effectively trap myself? Yeah, that sounds like a marvelous plan.
  13. The protagonist just escaped the axe murderer who wants to shape her into a living doll/eat her intestines while she’s still alive/stitch her into his mattress – whatever. But when she escapes and wanders around the silent building looking for her friends who were also captured, she’s going to call out, “Is anyone here?” But don’t worry because the killer is totally deaf.
  14. When the killer has a gun? It never runs out of bullets.When the “good guys” have the gun? Two shots fired and you’re out of bullets.
  15. The laws of gravity no longer work.
  16. “Sudden Case of Conscious”. Yes, the person who just drilled a hole in your baby sister with a potato peeler, is not doing it on purpose and the demon inside them just went *poof*. It’s your girlfriend again. Really. Don’t kill her. She’s sooo sorry, and doesn’t know what’s going on.


stockvault-skull101134YES some of these are funny and do not bother me. Some of them are used really well and some are very realistic. (I mean come on – you’re panicked, you’re running through the woods – it’s likely that you’re going to trip. But holy hell, you didn’t break your leg, you can get up and run some more.)  When you put them ALL or most of them in EVERY SINGLE HORROR MOVIE? Not so much.


So here’s for hoping more horror movies come out with interesting characters, a good plot, as well as spooky atmosphere, creepy creatures, and twisted endings where everyone doesn’t die, leaving you wondering why you rented this stupid movie.

Grrr. 😉

Do you think horror movies should have some meaning to them?

Are you fine with the clichés and “let’s kill everyone” endings?

Did I miss any horror movie clichés? Which ones annoy you the most? Which ones do you like?

Any good horror movie recommendations?

I’M BACK! (Hotel Hell #5)

I… am….. ALIVE!!

No. I did not die.

I know you probably wondered if I got run over by a bus, drug through the desert and eaten by carrion, but I assure you, I did not.

The last time I had access to internet was on April 3rd. My laptop died. Every attempt at resuscitation failed. Epically… obviously. The library computers were shut down. Then they wouldn’t load anything. No one lives close to us whose computer will load things like WordPress or yahoo. I WAS DYING!!!!! Writer with no internet here!





I got a laptop as a surprise on August 10th. WOOHOOO! So…. You’ve missed a lot and not all of it was good. But that’s okay, I’m not dead – I’m stronger, better off for it. But 5 months is a long time when it comes to 1 blog post. It will definitely take more than one post to get it all out. Here goes…


First things first, multiple files on my flashdrive were corrupted. I plugged in my backup flashdrive to save what I could and the corrupted files transferred to the backup flashdrive! So I yanked the first one, wiped it, and plugged in the second one, and wiped the bad files. All in all, I lost three folders – my blog folder, my photo folder, and my critique folder.

Let me translate this: AAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I lost all my photos I’d taken in the past 8 months. And I’d lost all the critiques I’d done. One in particular irks me beyond words. I’d promised this individual to read and critique his MS two times prior and couldn’t. This time, I’d read it, loved it, critiqued as I went, and wrote up my end thoughts and opinion. And it’s GONE!

I lost all the posts I’d written. That means, February, March, and April’s Hotel Hell posts? Gone.

Flashdrive with corrupted files…NOT good.









Because of this, this post is probably out of order in a few places.


– I read “On Writing” by Stephen King finally! I’ve been waiting for a year to get a hold of a copy and I loved it! Definitely helped me on multiple points. Maybe I’ll do up a post on it. Maybe.








– We got an air conditioner for our room! Now we’re not melting. Woohoo!

– The manager gave us adorable blinds! She’s just that cool.








– Holly pulled the ligaments in her thumb.

– We got shelves to put all our stuff on, instead of piling it all on the ground.

– Holly got a plant. It died. She got another one, and named her Viper, the spider plant. Viper is doing very well.

IMG_3168 IMG_4158 IMG_4885









– The last day of school for my mallow minions (aka my sister, Holly and my brother, Dylan) (and yes they like and approve of this nickname) was May 24th. Summer Break began…..

– The first month of their summer break I was extremely boring. Why? I had an intestinal virus for four weeks. That’s four weeks of extreme abdominal pain, nausea, and dizziness. NOT. FUN.

– Dylan’s birthday was July 15th. He turned 11 years old.







– I’ve read lots of books by new authors and some in different genres. And guess what? I’m more picky than I originally thought I was! But that’s okay. The books I don’t like, I’ve taken back to the book exchange. So even if I don’t like them, it wasn’t a complete loss.

– Dylan got a ficus trees.








– Mom’s birthday is August 11th – today! Happy birthday momma. 😀

– My mallows wounded themselves while creating art. Beauty hurts, they agree.

IMG_4499 IMG_4564








– I have been informed (by Holly) that it is mandatory I tell you of her obsession with the Maximum Ride Series by James Patterson as of late. She loves it but is very unhappy with how the series ended.

– I got a baby jade plant, named her Moira, after the collective 3 Greek Fates. She needs to be replanted, she’s not actually in the pot here, but in a smaller planter leaning inside the one you can see.








– Lucky tried eating Holly’s cupcake pillow.








– Oh, and our fridge door fell off.


On a more serious note, we’re still living in the hotel, but we almost ended up on the street three times. Each time we were saved by positive attitudes, a lot of hope and work, and kindness. There’s been an abundance of drama and emotional angst. As a result, my writing hasn’t moved forward much. Not to mention the two months of summer break, in which – I have siblings, so I need to pay attention to them and not sit in a corner and type – we did many things together daily.

You already know I finished my rough draft of HUMAN OR HIDDEN. I’ve finished critiquing the first 8 chapters of it so far, I’m about ¼ of the way through, being on about page 100 of about 400. Then I need to go through and fix all the things I’ll find while critiquing. Then I can send it out to be critiqued, which I’m totally excited for!

I’m excited to get back to writing. I’ve missed it. A lot.

I’ve missed logging onto Twitter and being inspired by everyone’s tweets! I’ve missed reading your blogs and talking to you! I missed your opinions on my blog posts! I’ve missed you all so much.


So what have I missed in the past 5 months?