love for the book

February 19, 2017

Debris & Detritus, the lesser Greek gods running amok --  a fantasy anthology collection of short stories

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we are playing with photos

December 20, 2013

 

And when I say “we” there I mean “me,” not the Queen of England.

Settle down, you across the Atlantic peeps.

[Also just to be polite right now but not really because I am not actually sorry, I will say sorry for all those Fourth of July cards I sent the queen.]

[But not really. I am totally not sorry.]

[Look at the name. Adams? You really want an apology from an “Adams” if you are “English”? I thought not. Back to the blog post — ]

 

max_collage_dec_2013

 

Those are mostly photos of me. That could be because I am freaky absorbed with my own face. Or. That could be because I am reviewing my life and putting it in perspective at the end of the year [yeah, that is freaky, who evaluates their life at the end of the year, nobody, right?] and also —

News Flash. Doy. It’s my blog.

 

 

the dog spirit

November 16, 2009

 

 

he waits, year of the dog

 

When Loke passed, I was crazed with grief. Literally. He had not been well. And the day he died, I had gone to town, to a store to pick up water and supplies and I was [irony] on the dog toy aisle in that store looking for something for him when I knew, Go home, your dog needs you NOW. And I went. Dropped everything I had and went.

We were in the country then. I had to drive 12 miles of bad dirt road to get to my dog. And I did that drive, hard driving, pushing harder and more dangerous than those curves and drop offs and dirt roads liked, cursing, wanting to get to my dog, saying, Loke, hold on. And he did hold on. He was waiting. Waiting for me to get home before he died. And I sat and cried holding my dog when he died.

And then I went out on the porch paralyzed in the night and everything in me was crazy and angry and crying. For a long time. I do not know how long. But a long time.

And then the dog spirit came.

The dog spirit is not something you can see. It is not something you can hear. It is something you feel. Washing over you and through you. Dog spirit. Dog love. Love of the dog spirit.

And it is not even exactly The Dog you just lost. That dog is there. But it is — more than that. So my only name for it is The Dog Spirit.


The dog spirit is something 24 hours later in the light of day you can wonder about. Wonder if you were so full of grief you made it up in your head, were just off your head. I was off my head. I was off my head with grief. I could have been just dog spirit confused.

Except. It didn’t happen once.

The dog spirit came, washed through me, told me I was loved, had not lost that love. And it was not the only time I met the dog spirit. It was just the first time.

 


Where this came from : i posted a portion of that
at kitty’s once

where the art work comes from :
that is he waits by greg

 

goth_deadSo —

I have been watching this dead celebrity phenom and if there is one lesson to take away from it, it is —

Clearly if I want to be totally famous and loved, I need to be dead.

Okay, Max Adams is dead. Let the lovefest begin.

 


*to make this work by the way you have to go somewhere on the internet and say max adams is dead — after the number of teeth i had to pull to get winery votes though i am not especially counting on this happening

 

where the art work comes from :
that is from musyne

 

shoes_kid_iiThere used to be —

This scary house. It was the house all the adults told you not to play around because the structure might be weak and you could fall through a floor and never get out. It was the kind of house kids would tell each other stories about. Stories about people with machetes and hooks instead of hands and chainsaws and blood and murder and dead little kids.

A long long long time ago I was the kid who got in the first car in the scariest roller coaster.

I do not know why. Maybe it was just that important to me to be brave back then.

I do not give a damn about being brave now. I learned somewhere along the line brave just means scared and doing it anyway and these days I need a damn good reason to do it anyway if I am scared. But back then it mattered to me to never look scared. So —

Me and a friend headed to the scary house you could fall through floors in. We did not expect to fall through floors — or see ghosts. And there were a lot of ghost stories about that house. But we were tough kids who knew adults made stuff up all the time and we were there to prove nothing scared us and we went into that house to prove we were braver than anyone.

 


to be continued….

 

continental desk drift

May 18, 2009

 

desk_viewSo my desk keeps moving.

By itself.

This is really annoying. I am very big on the placement of objects and my desk is perfectly square to the wall beside it and the glass doors behind it and it keeps going kitty cornered. Not huge moves. But a couple inches. And I keep putting it back. And it keeps moving again when I am not watching.

The first couple times it did it I thought, Hey, why is the desk off? Oh well maybe I just did not square off the desk the way I thought I did?

You think dumb stuff like that when there is no explicable reason for something being off. But that is not it. The desk is on carpet and when it gets moved, the old spots where its feet rested are depressions in the carpet right there showing where the desk was standing before it got moved.

This desk is heavy. It is real work for me to move it back. It is not like this could just be simple continental drift of a desk. Something has to be moving this desk.

 

where the art work comes from :
that is from crazy beautiful 22

 

I am not posting today because you have to go read this story by Anita Marie: Me and Betsy and the Church Zombie.

It is fabulous. It is the kind of story that actually makes me think having children would be fun. [And that NEVER happens.] Go read it right now.

 

 

For people who have missed Kolchak or just do not have scifi channel so they can catch Kolchak [dark glance at Kym] or maybe who just are feeling lonely for Kolchak [it could happen] a return to Carl Kolchak yay!

 


 


*that is the pilot opening for ripper, kolchak so rocks

 

all hallow’s eve

October 31, 2007

 

In honor of All Hallow’s Eve —

A fairy tale.

 


 

part iv : anybody home?

September 28, 2007

 

inner window iiNothing is there now —

It is 4 am.

I brush my teeth.


the end

 

[:::part i:::]
[:::part ii:::]
[:::part iii:::]
[:::part iv:::]

 

where the art work comes from :
that is inner window by wouldpkr

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