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 Crazy Smart The stench of death rose up like a cloud around him and he grinned, inhaling with a joy he hadn't felt in years. There was nothing quite so delightfully aromatic as the delectable coppery scent of blood pooling and clotting. He wasn't sure exactly when he'd felt so alive and it gave him a thrill to know that his joy came from their deaths. His eyes moved lovingly over the shattered corpses at his feet and he sighed "Oh, Tommy, look at what we've done now." In his mind his best friend grinned up at him from the belly of the corpse nearest him, his enigmatic smile stained with the blood and effluence seeping from the body he had been gnawing on. In reality, Frank Gomez was standing in his kitchen facing a corner caught completely  in his dreams, thoroughly believing he was standing atop the bodies of those who had taken his son. Ten years earlier Frank had been diagnosed with schizophrenia. But rather than live a sort of half

While I know editing is essential and even crucial to having a good finished product I absolutely loathe it. Aside from not having a ton of time with the two kids and old house that needs some love, there's the fact I am an unrelenting demon when I edit. I will scrutinize a page until it starts crying. But to me, the best way to have a good book is to make sure it's as close to flawless as you can get it. I'm working on an anthology right now with a dozen or so short stories from my past and present. The ones from the past need some serious clean up because they were written when I had just begun down the road of writing. The newer ones also need a bit of love and care and I'm ok with giving it to them. My problem is when I spend fifteen minutes wondering if I couldn't find a better synonym for this word, or if I ought to include this sentence here or there. A bit obsessive perhaps but I know in the end the story/novel/novella will be better off for it, but Jees

Sometimes I wish my muse wouldn't get so distracted by....Oooooh shiny! Sorry, I mean to say that I really wish my muse would stay on tar.....hey check out that Facebook post! Again sorry. What I'm trying to say is I really wish my muse would stay on point. But as we all know, sometimes the internet can be an amazing distraction. I know that for myself I would probably have finished at least one, if not two more novels in the time I waste having fun on the web. There are days I hop online to learn about some topic or get my facts straight and within moments I'm carried away to Memebase or Facebook and I have forgotten entirely what it was I jumped online to research. Two hours later I shut down the internet and thwack myself on the forehead for not actually looking up the information I needed in the first place. Then I jump back online and whammo two more hours pass and I realize I have again lost sight of what I was doing. Then there are the times my muse decides she

So as many of you know I am suffering from an 'as yet undiagnosed' disease. It's been a long seven year battle and at times it feels like I am living in hell. There are days where it's an absolute miracle (I kid not) that I am able to get downstairs and get my boys breakfast and lunch and simply take care of them. There are so many days where I have no clue how I was able to do it, and there have been many days that resulted in me collapsing and laying on the floor unresponsive for a little while. It's getting worse and things are getting more and more difficult but one thing has remained constant; my husband. Without him I don't think I'd be alive today and honestly he is the only person in my life I can rely on completely. Hell, he is the only person that I have ever been able to rely on. I try not to complain or whine too much about my problems. I am luckier than so many, but there are days where it hits me so hard I can't stand it. On those da

No not authors from Indiana (although there is one or two of those) I'm talking about authors who self-publish their books on Kindle and Nook. They're not backed by a giant publishing house and most of them have full time jobs and families and are no different from me in that they write for the sheer joy of writing (and because our heads will explode if we don't get the chance to write these stories down) and they publish their works themselves because it's less troublesome, faster to get published, and gives a much better (according to some I spoke with) payout in terms of royalties. You'll find my book reviews posted on the right side of my home page and you can bet there will be a whole lot of independent authors on this list. I've really had a blast meeting with and reading several of these writers and I think it's safe to say a whole new world of literary possibilities has opened up to us and it is a fantastic time to be a reader or a writer. As an

So at 1:30 this morning our cat hops up on the bed and proceeds to nudge my hand to wake me up. The next thing I know a live mouse is running all over the bed, including over my husband's face. Chris sits bolt upright in bed and I say, completely puzzled "There's a mouse in our bed." Needless to say the mouse got off the bed and hustled out of our room and into the hall. The cat looked at us as if to say "Do you know how long it took to catch that mouse and you let him get away? Fine, I'll get it again." The he tore out of the room after Speedy Gonzalez and I turned to my lovely, handsomely bearded, incredibly groggy husband who simply shrugged and laid back down. He laid like that for a second and then said "You think he's trying to get back into our good graces?" Mostly because the cat had been a real jerk about Mr. B. "I don't know." I said "Possible, or he could've just wanted to give us a gift." I love t

For those who I'm pals with on Facebook you already know about Mr. B. For those who don't let me tell you a story.... Two weeks ago my husband and I decided we wanted to get another dog. So we did our research and found a pup online at the Humane Society that we wanted to go see. We packed up the SUV and headed out when Chris got home from work. Excited and giddy we postulated and joked about how this dog would fit in our new house and large yard. Reality was very different from fact. The dog was 9 weeks old and at first was a great little puppy. Then she started becoming vicious with me and my kids. She bit me several times and not only drew blood but has left scars. When our three year old became scared of her we decided immediately she was not the puppy for us and we put her back in her kennel. My husband and I began looking at the other dogs in the shelter and I came across a beautiful St Bernard named Betsy (who oddly enough, could have been a double for Cujo) I ador