Archive | August, 2017

Publishing Plans

12 Aug

Using Create Space, Amazon’s publishing platform, I shall self-publish two novels in October 2017: a Middle Grade fantasy novel that’s the beginning of a series, Rowanwick Witches; and a magical realism novel for adults, Skeleton from the Closet.

I self-published my travel memoir, Every Day is Magical: A Buddhist Pilgrimage in India and Nepal, which is available on Amazon.com (as will be the novels). For other novels, I intend to keep querying literary agents and small presses.

 

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Victim-Blaming Politicians

8 Aug

I received my first packet from Hand-Written Revolution, and after filling out postcards based on the writing prompts (including writing to that psycho Betsy DeVos and that other psycho, Steve King–not the horror writer), I wrote the following letters to my Senators:

Dear Senator,

The Secretary of Miseducation, Betsy DeVos, is such an extreme victim-blaming misogynist that she has consulted with so-called “Men’s Rights activists” (translation: men’s “rights” to oppress and rape women) about pretending that victims of campus rape falsely accuse their rapists. She wouldn’t have been nominated by Donald Dump if she were a real woman rather than a power-tripping, stupid white male trapped in a woman’s body. On-campus rape is a very real and nightmarish epidemic, as is rape in general. Only a psychopath would pretend otherwise. Being the victim of rape is horrific enough without additionally being put on trial and insanely accused of making it up. In this country, one out of every six women has been raped, and so have some men.

If this monster were a competent Secretary of Education, she would be addressing the real problem: the epidemic of campus rape and rape culture. If she were competent, she would do all she can to prevent campus rape and help the victims, not make their life more hellish. This monster needs to either wake up or resign, as do all the incompetent monsters Donald Dump nominated.

And here’s the other letter:

Dear Senator,

Representative Steve King is more frightening than a horror novel. He wants to cut funding for food stamps and Planned Parenthood to cover the costs of an overtly racist and xenophobic wall between Dumplandia and Mexico. His claims are erroneous, sadistic, sociopathic, and idiotic, as is his using fatphobia against poor people.

Defunding food stamps and Planned Parenthood is class and gender warfare. Defunding them for the sake of building that wall is nothing less than class, gender, race, and international warfare.

 

Violent Dream

5 Aug

What was I dreaming about before I woke to Virginia vomiting? And while it was dark, what was I dreaming about before waking to the sound of a cat fight (and going outdoors…to discover that it was happening several doors down and the sound really carries, which is reassuring because it means my cats aren’t the cause of such noises, never mind that I still intend to have a catio).

Toward the end of this dream, the guy who was probably the protagonist stepped out of a building (where he had been conversing with a female friend) and into what looked like a large garage. There was space for many vehicles. He approached his, when someone came up behind him. This someone was a Hispanic guy with a gun, and Guy 1 was in trouble because of something he did in the past. The Hispanic guy spoke with him, and like in a TV show, it came out in the conversation what he previously did. Guy 2 was just about to shoot Guy 1, when a Hispanic woman came into the garage and shot Guy 2, thus saving Guy 1.

There was a lot more to the dream before that. I think it was mainly a conversation in a bar. Now that I’m a little more awake, it seemed more than a little like a TV show. It’s the second violent dream I’ve had in the past, oh, month.

My Latest Dreams

4 Aug

I dreamed I was walking on a beach, the same one I really did walk on yesterday. But I think I was a black woman wearing a gold dress, and I was invited to a wedding and there was stuff about fashion.

I had a dream from a secret agent’s perspective, in which I went to my boss’s office, and it was a huge, dark room in which you couldn’t see the walls, just the tall desk where she sat or stood and a podium facing her. Another was there, and he was very unpleasant and hostile, and the boss said with his personality he was unsuited for this case, and she wanted me to take it. I met a couple of white women who were psychologically traumatized; maybe I was saving them from their abductor. One had shoulder-length blond hair and was in her 30s or 40s.

Earlier, I dreamed something more interesting than the secret agent dream, but when I woke from that dream Gabriel was purring and head-butting me, and I didn’t have the heart to shift positions in order to reach over and grab my glasses and phone in order to write about the dream; I probably would have disturbed Gabriel in the process, and he would have jumped off the bed. Instead, I petted him…and fell back to sleep before having the secret agent dream.

A few nights ago, I dreamed I was at my parents’ house and they were both alive and in the other room, while I was in my old bedroom and going through my closet in a search for something to wear. Unlike in many dreams, the dream version of the house looked just like it did in this reality. I kept finding stuff I wore as a teenager, especially skirts made of double knit, and I made a huge double-knit pile on my bed (to get rid of, of course). I had a pile of other clothing, probably cotton blouses I made as a teen. I found a black late Victorian-style jacket I made in my 30s, which I still have.

I read that dreaming that you’re having trouble deciding what to wear means you are looking for a new identity.