bark as hard as stone






the morning after


she lies on the other side of the bed
her wings drawn in, her breath slow and steady
trying not to accidentally smother the boy who fought so hard
to keep her here on this earth

but she’s only got twelve hours to make an important decision
because that’s when her parents will wake up
and discover the daughter turned stranger in their basement

she could go back home to the future past
and help the scarred children rebuild their society
but she might never be able to return
condemned to live under a pixelated sky
forever at the mercy of her hotblooded lover

or she could turn her back on the past
and try to brave the next few years inside her own mind
always unsure whether or not the insanity will come back
and start this vicious cycle all over again

she takes a deep breath, her new lungs deep and strong
if only there was a third path she could follow
keeping her powers sealed somewhere away, ready in her time of need
shedding some of them to the kids who obviously can do more than she ever could
and fit neatly back into her hole in society

Living Wasteland moves to revision phase

It’s been almost a year and two weeks since the first edition of The Samhain Files was published, and I’m just now getting around to re-reading it again, contemplating whether I want to write a fourth book in The Phobia Interim. I mean, Me Before You keeps being put off because, until now, I’ve either been too lazy or too busy to finalize the revisions. And you know, with all the crap that’s happened in Charlottesville recently, and the fact that part of MBY takes place there… I really don’t want my book to be associated with a bunch of cowards walking around with tiki torches. So I hope you’ll forgive me for pushing its release date off until Christmas this year to let things cool down a bit.

On the up side, I’ve finished the second draft of Living Wasteland! A peer review edition should be available sometime between now and Me Before You‘s release.

Now, as a thank you for patiently waiting through the recent drought of posts, here’s some pictures from the front yard of my new house.







a desolate sunday spent with nothing to do

I am at Girl Scout Camp right now as I type this, enjoying the air conditioning and abundant watermelon while the air outside grows more and more humid and the sky is colorless and drained as a loop of time at the edge of the world should be.
Every day I come home completely exhausted, drained both physically. It takes everything I have to continue writing Living Wasteland after a shower and recount everything that’s happened to me in a fictional form. There is no energy left to spin the tale twice.
Sometimes I find myself in the minds of other characters, of fragments of other people’s imaginations. Longing to slip on their skin for at least a little while and experience life through their eyes. It’s not healthy, I know, but escapism is so attractive…
And I should never have made that Facebook account. Getting a few accolades for work on hacking Fire Emblem Fates and fulfilling a fantasy of running a meme page was never worth the angst and pain that came from conflicts with other meme pages and self-proclaimed morally superior people. Nothing that could have possibly come out of that hellsite was worth the breach in privacy that came as its price.
I want to start using alternative services and messengers, but my family members are too imept with technology to bother, and the damn network effect keeps biting me in the ass over and over and over.
You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t force him to comprehend that the water is poisoned and he should drink from somewhere else.
Living Wasteland did nothing wrong. Liv followed her heart, and it ended up in her becoming corrupted by sheer power she could never hope of being able to comprehend, much less wield.
And Eponine Westal did nothing wrong. He tried to fight to keep the hidden life he was comfortable with while making sure that his friends didn’t suffer, but his enemies still found a way to make him destroy himself.
And Boney just wanted to help his friend, but he ended up being killed in the end.
But life’s going to get better, I think. Just one more year and then I’ll have all the space in the sky to fill.
At least, I sure hope so.


Girl Scout Camp training happened today, and contrary to what I was expecting from previous years, there wasn’t a whole lot of “training” going on. Mostly, I stayed in Timbermeade (the main cabin) while the main director explained exactly how I was supposed to format the newsletter that I’m going to be in charge of, how I’m supposed to email the printing office to ensure that it gets formatted correctly, et cetera. Not much else happened.

Of course, I almost immediately lost track of the walkie-talkie I’d been assigned. It didn’t leave Timbermeade, I’m certain. But it seems to have disappeared into thin air. Hopefully somebody finds it before Monday, when I’ll really be needing it.

Everyone kept erasing the “nothing” part for some reason. Somehow I think “Zorphs did wrong” doesn’t have the same ring to it.

Everyone else who was assigned to a unit like a normal person had to walk all the way to their unit and visit the archery range and ropes course and the local lake for a few minutes each so that they could get a general feel for the camp’s layout. It’s a bit disturbing when you’re whacking away at your laptop, desperately trying to switch the layout of the template you made to be landscape instead of portrait and an elderly lady seems intent on explaining the incredibly simple concept of the orientation having been wrong to you several hundred times, and then suddenly fifty sweaty bodies burst in from out of nowhere and start lumbering towards your general direction. Kind of like from some sort of cheesy zombie movie.

In addition to that, the picture quality on my camera seems to have inexplicably dropped dramatically. I’m not sure whether it’s the camera in need of a good reset or the fact that the 8 GB card I usually save for this kind of heavy-duty work is currently serving duty as a transfer bus for hacking the family Wii U back at home. No, I’m not going to be pirating Splatoon or anything else to make my brothers happy. I mean, I could, but being grounded isn’t on my list of things to get done.

But you know what is on my list of things to get done? More chapters for Living Wasteland. They’re coming, I promise, although they might be delayed the next few days because I’m sorting out issues with the possible endings I have planned. Massive indecision right now coupled with an unfortunate obligation to keep a Facebook account open to contribute to the camp’s group and page (which I still don’t have access rights to for some reason) does not make for an optimal writing environment. Plus I’ll be exhausted every day after camp, so don’t expect any more chapters for about a week or however long it takes to recover and return to a semi-tranquil state.