Showing posts with label weekend writing warriors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weekend writing warriors. Show all posts

Saturday, July 30, 2022

Blow Your Stack Saturday/Snippet Sunday/Weekend Writing Warriors 30 July 2022

 


The following is ten sentences from my stupid garbage daily diary. I keep kicking around the idea of gathering these thoughts into some kind of memoir/self-help book thing. 

I always wind up thinking "how the hell could I help anybody when I'm such a damn mess?" However, the people I've felt most "helped" by in this world are other messes, not the Shining Stars farting rainbows as they leap across the heavens. 

So, this may be part of a WIP or it may just be filler as I try to pull myself back together and start trying to promote my stories again.

OFFICIAL SNIPPET START

On July 5, I received a few books that I ordered from Thriftbooks.

You, the reader, need to check out Thriftbooks.

https://bit.ly/ThriftBooksCie

One of the books was The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron.

I wrote my name in my new book the way I did when I was a little kid.

“This book is the property of Ornery Owl, July 2022.”

Okay, I didn’t write the Ornery Owl name when I was a little kid because I didn’t think of that one until 2019. But The Artist’s Way is the property of Ornery Owl, because that is the persona that will heal the rest of me.

One of the first things Julia talked about is writing three journal pages every day. These are supposed to be handwritten. I don’t know if that’s going to happen.  

OFFICIAL SNIPPET END

(Spoiler: it's been happening all month. I'm actually kind of surprised.)

I've really been struggling this year, so thank you for indulging me with this snippet from something that may or may not ever be published depending on how evil I'm feeling. If I'm feeling especially evil, I will probably unleash it on the world.)


Ornery Owl
Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors





Sunday, March 27, 2022

My Misunderstood Monkey Mind #8Sunday #MFRWHooks #SnipSun #CharitySunday

 


My Charity Sunday post this month features a potential chapter from the autobiography/motivational book that I've intended to publish for years. Here are a few sentences to give you an idea of what you're getting into.

In my younger days, I enjoyed mind-altering drugs quite a lot. Anything that allowed me to forget my despised self and my shitty reality was a welcome companion. My party pals thought I was a bit nuts when I said that I'd rather sit in the corner drinking a six-pack by myself than hook up with a random dude for meaningless sex, but I didn't really give a rat's ass what they thought. I liked my substances, and it felt like my substances liked me. 

There are things that I'm starting to understand now that so many decades have passed between me and those days of smoke and drink and the occasional pill or hit of acid. I really hated myself and I was dying to escape the garbage reality that was my life. I wouldn't have minded if I'd literally died. 

I was self-harming, and I made a half-assed suicide attempt that landed me on the psych ward for a weekend. While on the psych ward, I received lots of compassionate help, learned that I was a wonderfully worthwhile young lady, and never touched alcohol or drugs again.

Psych! I'm just messing with you.

If you liked that crap, continue reading the rest of the post by following the link below. 


Every comment I receive on the linked post translates to a buck for the American Art Therapy Association. Support independent weirdness and a great cause too!

Don't feel like you have to leave a comment on both this post and the Charity Sunday post. One or the other is fine.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~



Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors
Ornery Owl's mind is filled with the seeds of ideas. 
Sometimes they all blossom at once.


Hop to It








Sunday, May 16, 2021

Stories From A Starry Sky: WeWriWa: EU73

Stories From A Starry Sky: WeWriWa: EU73:   Happy middle of May. Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors. If you'd like to participate or read tempting morsels from other authors, pl...

I wish that my moments of insecurity didn't tend to come with a heaping helping of self-loathing. It's a bad pattern that I fell into long ago and I don't know if I'll ever be completely free of it. Whenever things go wrong with my writing process or schedule in any way, I tend to tell myself that I'm trash, my writing is trash, and I might as well just delete everything.

I'm still recovering from the fiasco created for me by Amazon last month. I'm now having to play catch-up by finishing two Cloned Heat shorts in a month rather than just one. Sigh.

Wednesday, March 17, 2021

Life with ADHD

 

Free use image by John Hain on Pixabay

This is a response to a post by Veronica Scott.

https://veronicascott.wpcomstaging.com/2021/03/06/they-know-a-lot-weekend-writing-warriors/

Gorgeous world-building. 

"She shook her head, annoyed at herself for having a scatterbrained mind and thoughts skittering like demented butterflies right now" sounds like the story of my life with ADHD. I've always had people tell me to "just" stop being so scatterbrained, stop daydreaming, pay attention, stop being so self-absorbed. 

The funny thing is, I'm conversely quite capable of hyper-focus. I've only just started learning to accept and work with my ADHD (and myself as a whole, really,) and I'm 56 years old. 

Sorry, I sometimes hyper-focus on a small piece of what I've read if it really grabs me as this sentence did.



Image by Please Don't sell My Artwork AS IS from Pixabay

Note: Today is my brother's 52nd birthday. It is also Saint Patrick's Day. So, happy birthday to one who's a saint and one who ain't.


Tuesday, March 16, 2021

Mes crazy expériences: WeWriWar 342: The House at the Crossing 50

Mes crazy expériences: WeWriWar 342: The House at the Crossing 50:   Hello everybody and welcome for a new Sunday of writing with Weekend Writing Warrior and Snippet Sunday !   How are you doing?   ...

Oh my gosh, if I had to deal with three crying babies plus seeing me from alternate universes appearing and disappearing, I think I'd lose what I have left of "it."

I live in a big old house in the middle of nowhere, which I really love. Unfortunately, the parts of myself and memories of my past that I don't really love followed me here, and I've been having nightmares.

Wednesday, February 10, 2021

Mes crazy expériences: WeWriWar 340: The House at the Crossing 46

Mes crazy expériences: WeWriWar 340: The House at the Crossing 46:   Hello everybody and welcome for a new Sunday of writing with Weekend Writing Warrior and Snippet Sunday !   How are you doing? 

A fascinating mystery. It would be cool if a room could appear for me to put stuff whenever I needed, though!

Wednesday, February 3, 2021

Dreamers, lovers, and Star Voyagers: WeWriWa: EU62

Dreamers, lovers, and Star Voyagers: WeWriWa: EU62:   Hello fellow warriors. :-) Happy last weekend in January! It's almost the month of Cupid, Mardi Gras, and a short month to bo...

Feeling out of control is the worst. Fortunately, Emmily seems rather level-headed.

A friend of mine has been diabetic since childhood. He has been battling throat cancer. A nurse was sent to his home and took over doing his blood glucose tests and injections. This was actually one aspect of his life that he felt he could control, and to have that taken away from him sent him into such a bad state of anxiety that he had to be hospitalized. 

Giving people as much control as possible over their own lives is important. I don't expect invading extraterrestrials care much about that, though!

Sunday, January 24, 2021

Mes crazy expériences: WeWriWar 339: The House at the Crossing 45

Mes crazy expériences: WeWriWar 339: The House at the Crossing 45:    

I wonder what it would have been like to meet another version of myself at 15. Would my AU self have some insight that I didn't have, or would my attic have been an echo chamber?

Sunday, December 13, 2020

Dreamers, lovers, and Star Voyagers: WeWriWa: EU56

Dreamers, lovers, and Star Voyagers: WeWriWa: EU56: Hello fellow warriors. :-) Less than two weeks till Christmas. I hope youre all feeling some Christmas joy. It's a different year for s...

I know a lot of people who don't understand money. For a lot of years, I was one of them. I always figured there would be more where what I just spent came from. Then I ended up disabled. Good times!

Thursday, December 10, 2020

Mes crazy expériences: WeWriWar 333: The House at the Crossing 39

Mes crazy expériences: WeWriWar 333: The House at the Crossing 39:   Hello everybody and welcome for a new Sunday of writing with Weekend Writing Warrior and Snippet Sunday ! It's been a while since...

A fabulous bit of speculative fiction. 
Due to trauma in my younger years, I often felt that my personality was fractured, although not to the point of forming different personalities that took over.

Sunday, November 1, 2020

Dreamers, lovers, and Star Voyagers: WeWriWa: EU50

Dreamers, lovers, and Star Voyagers: WeWriWa: EU50:                                                             
Note: This is a comment that I left on Teresa Cypher's promotional post for her story, Emmily Unbound. Please click the link to check out her work.

Shock can make a person behave strangely and focus on things that seem unimportant. In 2013, there was a flood in the Boulder area. I was working in Boulder at the time. The area I lived in Lafayette was getting a hard rain but I didn't know how serious things were in Boulder. As I approached work, it became obvious that I should have called off, but I couldn't turn around. As I went over a bridge where there was normally no water underneath, a large wave rolled across the bridge and slammed into the side of my car. I managed to stay on the road, but I was terrified that I was going to be washed into the huge, choppy lake to the right of me; a lake that normally didn't exist.

The logical thing to do when I got to work would have been to change into my work clothes and start helping, as the place was in chaos. I did not do that. I walked like a zombie to the locker room, put on my swimsuit, and went to work out in the therapy pool, as I did most nights before work. As I was doing water aerobics, I heard the transformer blow outside and the lights went out. I made my way back to the locker room and was showering in the dark before the generator kicked in.

To go to the therapy pool was a bizarre choice on my part and many people would probably say "what a selfish bitch, only thinking of herself and not the chaos around her." But I was in shock.

I tell this long-winded tale to illustrate the way that shock can make a person focus on a mundane thing in order not to break down.

I had a very difficult time writing for about a month after the flood happened. I believe I was experiencing survivor guilt because many people lost everything they owned and some lost their lives. I survived my car being slammed into by that wave, and I couldn't understand why me. I did not suffer any significant loss. I felt like I did not deserve to indulge myself in writing when so many people had lost so much.

I am finally starting to understand, nearly 56 years into this life, that for me writing is not an indulgence or a hobby. It is a survival tool.

~Ornery Owl Hath Spoken~


Ornery Owl
Free use image by Open Clipart Vectors on Pixabay


Saturday, June 20, 2020

What Pegman Saw in R'lyeh + Blow Your Stack Saturday + Weekend Writing Warriors

Image found at Yanni's Inner Sanctum

While the battle for the souls of all sentient beings raged silently in the background of the lives of those too busy to even know whether or not they had a soul, Pegman dove deep into the South Pacific Ocean until he reached the nightmare corpse-city of R'lyeh. Pegman recalled the words from his friend H.P. Lovecraft's tale, "The Nameless City."

“That is not dead which can eternal lie, and with strange aeons even death may die."

"Howard, you had no way of knowing how your words would impact the generations to come," Pegman thought as he reached the green, slimy vaults where dead Cthulhu waits dreaming. "You believed yourself to be a meaningless and forgettable man when you were anything but. You had the power to see and record incomprehensible and terrible truths. Oh, you gave credence to some ludicrous and unpleasant beliefs when you were alive, but this was driven by your fear of the unknown.

"Sadly, people in this time seem incapable of recognizing another's faults with compassion rather than disdain and see only your errors in judgment born of your strange circumstances rather than your better qualities. I wonder if it is possible for humanity to discriminate between right and wrong action without resorting to disdain or outright hatred in every case. As Martin Luther King said following the assassination of Malcolm X: 'we haven’t learned to disagree without being violently disagreeable.'"

~Cie for Naughty Netherworld Press~


Ornery Owl
Free use image from Pixabay by Open Clipart Vectors
Fat. Ornery. Nerdy. Basically me as an owl.

Sly Fawkes, my politically-minded alter-ego
Image copyright Julia Henze purchased from 123rf.com

What Pegman Saw is the creation of J. Hardy Carroll, who has stepped down as the host the Pegman blog hop, but you should check out his other work. http://hawesescapes.com/
The logo was created by me using a stock image at pixlr.com



This graphic was created by me at pixlr.com using one of their stock images.
It is free to use, no credit required.

And now, the notes!
Cthulhu and R'lyeh are the creations of H.P. Lovecraft (1890 - 1937). They appear in his story "The Call of Cthulhu," first published in the June 1928 issue of Weird Tales.

The Nameless City is a short story by H.P. Lovecraft. It was first published in the November 1921 issue of The Wolverine.

The quote by Martin Luther King (1929 - 1968) comes from a press conference held 24 February 1965 following the assassination of Malcolm X (1925 - 1965). 

I was 9 days old at the time of this press conference.

 I was sad to see that J. Hardy Carroll will no longer be hosting the Pegman blog hop, but I certainly understand needing to take a step back from one project to focus on others. I made the decision a couple of months ago to dramatically restructure my blogging process and, let's be real, it's been a rough ride. 

I am unofficially adopting Pegman. I don't have the organizational skills or the energy to run a proper blog hop, but the Pegster has become an integral part of my world, so he will continue to appear here and I will always give credit to J. Hardy Carroll with a link to his blog. Visit him here. http://hawesescapes.com/

I am no longer adhering to the 150-word rule that is traditional for Pegman prompts. Instead, I am adhering to the Weekend Writing Warriors eight to ten sentence rule. For the foreseeable future, I will be sharing my Pegman stories with Weekend Writing Warriors because I am working on numerous projects and my ADHD brain has a tendency to complicate things. So, we'll keep this part simple-ish. That being said, the notes will include Shameless Self-Promotion of my projects for Shameless Self-Promotion Saturday. However, Self-Promotion Saturday is being pre-empted today to accommodate a special broadcast from Blow Your Stack Saturday.

This piece went in a much different direction than I originally intended. I was going to have Pegman pay a visit to R'lyeh and maybe have a chat with Cthulhu, but then I remembered reading a post on Facebook where people were railing about what a horrible transphobic transphobe J.K. Rowling is, and, of course, someone had to jump on the "I Hate H.P. Lovecraft" bandwagon, stating that they "love the writing but hate the writer."

I have a lot of trepidation about doing what I'm about to do because I'm a very shy person with a high level of social anxiety who hates conflict. However, there comes a time when one must speak one's mind, and I'm about to speak mine for better or worse, knowing that it's probably going to be worse.

J.K. Rowling did not say that she hates transgender people. She said that women experience sex-based oppression. She denounced the use of dehumanizing terms such as "menstruators" and refuted the frankly ludicrous idea that people can literally change their sex. The conflation of sex and gender in recent years has led to a myriad of misunderstandings and a lot of unnecessary vitriol. 

Sex and gender are not the same things. A few radicalized trans rights activists started touting the erroneous idea that "biological sex is a social construct," and a plethora of W0KE souls wanting to prove that they are up in the now and super-duper not transphobic (unlike those transphobes who believe in equality and tolerance for everyone including trans people but know that biological sex is an empirical reality) jumped on that misdirected bandwagon. One can utilize medical treatments such as hormone therapy and surgery to alter their secondary sex characteristics to more closely resemble the sex that they identify with. One cannot, however, literally change one's biological sex. This statement is not hateful, it is simply a fact. 

I live with my son and a housemate who identifies as a transgender woman. My housemate comes from extreme poverty and was living in her car. She has not had any surgery or hormone treatments and does not dress in "women's clothing." She is a friend of my son's whom he met on Discord. When she introduced herself to me, she said "you can call me Sally, or you can call me Kevin, whichever you're more comfortable with."

I have no problem calling my housemate Sally or using the pronoun "her" when speaking of my housemate. My housemate knows that she is biologically male. There is really no reason why this should ever come up, except in cases where medical treatment is necessary. There are certain medications that are helpful to males but harmful to females and vice-versa. Further, medical personnel caring for a transgender person would need to have this information in order to avoid potentially devastating drug interactions if the transgender person is receiving hormone therapy. 

I am a gender-critical feminist, and this earns me a lot of hate on social media.  I get called names like "TERF c**t" and told that I should be raped or murdered.  (TERF stands for "trans-exclusionary radical feminist.") There are people who say that being gender-critical is "transphobic." There are also transgender people who are gender-critical, and they get hate and death threats heaped on them too. This includes transgender activists such as transman Buck Angel and transwoman Miranda Yardley, two intelligent and thoughtful people whose work I greatly admire.

For further evidence of the violent rhetoric directed at women who disagree with the radical "trans rights activist" agenda, check out  http://terfisaslur.com. This collection of screenshots showcases the misogynistic hostility that women who have been found guilty of wrong-think are subjected to. 

Here is what being gender-critical means to me.

I do not think that anyone should have to change their personality to fit their biological sex. I do not think that a man should have to act stereotypically "macho" or a woman should have to present herself in a stereotypically "ladylike" fashion. I think that if a man likes to wear dresses, put on makeup, and call himself Sarah, it's all good. Or if a woman wants to wear her hair short, dress in straight-leg jeans and cowboy boots with a white t-shirt, fix trucks and call herself Jimbo, that's perfectly fine. I will refer to Sarah as she and Jimbo as he if that is what they would like me to do. 

I also do not think that anyone should feel that they have to take hormones or have surgery to take on desired secondary sex characteristics. I have extreme trepidation about these measures being employed in the cases of those who have not yet reached adulthood. The idea that a girl who likes blue, prefers to wear trousers rather than dresses, and enjoys playing with trucks and building things is "actually a boy" or that a boy who likes pink, enjoys dressing up as a princess, and enjoys playing with dolls is "actually a girl" is regressive and destructive. 

To sum things up, this is what being gender-critical means.


This is the wicked set of beliefs that many women, including J.K. Rowling, are being subjected to rape and death threats for espousing. There are numerous men and trans women who have told J.K. Rowling to suck their dick because they are offended by her beliefs. These words are sexualized threats directed at a woman who has dared to disagree with the screed that a very vocal minority has insisted that she must parrot or risk being silenced in a violent fashion.

Now, you may be wondering at this point what the hell any of this has to do with H.P. Lovecraft, who died in 1937.

H.P. Lovecraft and J.K. Rowling have more in common than being authors who use their first and middle initials in their bylines. Cancel culture prescribes that both of them are too problematic to exist. They and everything that they have ever spoken, thought, or created should be erased. For their Thoughtcrimes, they should become Unpersons.

(Thoughtcrime and Unperson are terms coined by British author George Orwell (1903 - 1950), appearing in his dystopian novel 1984.)

I realize that Lovecraft had xenophobic beliefs. I neither defend nor adhere to those beliefs. However, I do not deem it necessary to express hatred for him in order to prove that I am W0KE so I can obtain my Get Out of Cancel Culture Free card. 

I feel compassion for Lovecraft as a fellow tortured soul while refuting his xenophobic ideas. Lovecraft was raised in very peculiar circumstances and had a crippling fear of the unknown. Those who came to know him over the years describe a kind and gracious although deeply troubled man.

"I Am Providence" by S.T. Joshi is a well-written biography of H.P. Lovecraft. I recommend it highly.


In order to create a better world, we need to move away from the current trend of name-calling and thought policing. When fighting monsters, we need to be mindful of our own actions to ensure that we don't become monsters ourselves. We need to learn how to disagree without becoming violently disagreeable.

Peace.



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


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