Friday, February 18, 2022

Fucking Around Friday: The Definition of Insanity

 

Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay

After several days of Stupid, we're back. I sort of know where I'm going with this, but there are a few topics I'd like to address. I've given myself permission to take as long as I need and write as much as I want. I've told my inner critic to fuck off. So, let's do this.

First, some questions from 52 Weeks of Writing. The link to purchase a copy of this book for yourself can be found at the end of the post.

What are your goals for the upcoming week?

Let's just take a page from my planner. It looks a little bit something like this.

Write a flash fiction for the Fish Flash Fiction writing contest. Maximum words 300. No limit on theme or genre. Does not need to be about fish. Deadline 28 February.

https://www.fishpublishing.com/competition/flash-fiction-contest/

Enter Women on Writing Flash Fiction Contest (Max words 750)

https://www.wow-womenonwriting.com/contest.php#FlashFictionContest

Deadline 28 February.

Submit poetry to Humana Obscura

https://www.humanaobscura.com/submit

Humana Obscura is now accepting submissions of poetry, prose/short fiction, and art for its next issue!

Submissions will remain open until the end of February 2022.

No politics, nothing rhyming, nothing longer than 75 lines. Haiku is preferable to Senryu. Previously unpublished only, no simultaneous submissions.

Poetry – 3 to 5 poems (or up to 10 haiku, tanka, or other forms of micro poetry, 5 lines or less), no longer than two pages each. Please include all poems in one document.

Short Prose/Flash Fiction – no more than 2 pieces, 1,000 words maximum (per piece).

Unpublished only, no simultaneous submissions.

Work on story for Dragon Soul Press Chance on Love anthology.

https://dragonsoulpress.com/anthologies/

Deadline: 31 March 2022

Anthology: Chance on Love

Word Count – 5,000 to 15,000

Theme – Everyone deserves a chance at love. Whether it lasts forever or ends up being temporary, these characters will fight for the chance at happily ever after.

Rating: R

Work on story for L Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future contest. Sci-fi, fantasy, or dark fantasy, up to 17,000 words. Deadline 31 March 2022.

https://www.writersofthefuture.com/enter-writer-contest/

Work on Cosmically Bonded (part of my ongoing serial series.)

Submit a piece for this month's WIP contest.

Have another look. Are you being realistic? If not, what would be more realistic?

On the surface, this looks rather unrealistic. But when I break things down, I don't think it is. I've already written the poem for the WIP challenge. I just need to put it in a post and submit the link. 

I can write a few Haiku for Humana Obscura. 

I can submit Lucina Entombed to the Chance on Love anthology, although there's a possibility it may be a little clean for their liking given the R-rating in the description. The story contains no descriptive erotic scenes and scant profanity although it contains adult themes. 

It took me a few months to write this 7500-word story. It's a combination of three fairy tales (The Buried Moon, Sleeping Beauty, and Snow White) re-imagined in a sci-fi setting. I submitted it for potential inclusion in an anthology and never even received an acknowledgment of receipt. I attempted to contact the person compiling the anthology and heard nothing from them. I have given said anthology up as a lost cause. 

The story is a bit of an oddball and I'm not sure anyone else will want it. My policy is to shop out the stories that aren't part of my ongoing serial over the period of a year and then publish them myself. I'm thinking of compiling an anthology of my work at the end of the year and calling it something like C.L. Hart's Space Oddities Volume I. 

I feel like ideas of this nature make me sound extremely arrogant and self-absorbed. The truth is, I don't think that I will ever have much of an audience. I really like my stories but nobody else seems to. This hurts me more than I can convey. 

Also, I completely suck at promoting my work.

Image by Robin Higgins from Pixabay
Me promoting other people's stories

Me promoting my own stories

What can you do this week to make sure you achieve your goal(s)?

Not have my car battery conk out on me again, something I completely blamed myself for. I had a bit of a mental breakdown when it happened. I am in quite a vulnerable position. Living in the middle of nowhere I need my car to work 100% of the time. I keep up on maintenance. The battery has plenty of life left and there's nothing wrong with the alternator. So, what happened?

I only drive about once a week. Modern cars (even an older one like my 2011 Ford Fusion) have computerized gadgetry and an alarm system that impose a small chronic drain on the battery. I'm taking the car back to the mechanic next week so they can install a switch that will allow me to turn off the battery when I'm not driving the car. This disables the car alarm, but I live in a very low crime rate area and my room is in the front of the house. The car is nearly always in my line of sight. 

Also, we had a few very cold days last week and my car is parked in the open. The cold drained the battery as well. 

My anxiety was astronomical after this happened. I hated myself for allowing it to happen. I could not make myself write and spent several days just watching episodes of When Calls the Heart. 

Why was I unable to write you may ask? It wasn't as if I suffered an irreparable loss. My fucking car battery died. Boo fucking hoo. What a crybaby.

Back in 2013 when my car was hit by a wall of water as I was trying to get to work during the 100-Year Flood in Boulder, Colorado, I was unable to write for a month afterward. I felt like I didn't deserve the luxury of a "hobby" like writing. People had lost their homes. Some people lost their lives. How dare I think I should be allowed to engage in a fucking leisure activity? I'm always such a selfish bitch.

I suffered from (additional) PTSD following that incident. I have complex PTSD from chronic incidents of abuse throughout my childhood. When things are working normally, my anxiety is manageable. Put something out of place and I start to come apart. 

I know all about how people who can "go with the flow" are more likely to be successful. I have had to realize the fact that I will probably never be such a person. I am always teetering on the edge of disaster. I live in a house of cards with a sand foundation built on the San Andreas fault. I am always one huff or puff or seemingly minor disaster away from devastation.

The Spent module allows users to experience what it is like to live paycheck to paycheck. (In my case, disability check to disability check.) It isn't fun.
https://playspent.org/

I used to have such big dreams. Some really were unachievable. I can live with that. What kills me is the feeling that none of them are achievable because I am so awful at everything. 

Hold on to your hats as things are about to devolve into a bitch fest.

It's probably evident by now that I like to listen to independently produced relaxation music and electronic music such as deep house or trance while working on these posts. I saw some long mixes that I might have checked out except for one teeny problem. Rather than posting some nice pictures of, say, nature or candles or people dancing, the thumbnail images feature blatant tits and ass. 

How the hell it's supposed to be relaxing to stare at cleavage or butt crack is beyond me. Even if I was attracted to women, I wouldn't want to be staring at cleavage or butt crack. I'm attracted to men and I don't want to be staring at package shots or male butt crack. Fucking hell, just rename your channel Dudebro Haven. Tits and ass don't convey "positive coaching."

Anyway...

Spirit of the Universe, I am lost again. Please help me find my way.

~Ornery Owl is Searching~

Image by moonzigg from Pixabay
Resource Books:
52 Weeks of Writing
https://amzn.to/33sESxd

Self-Help Sucks
https://amzn.to/3sCWA9q

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)



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