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Monday’s Muse, and Workshop Woes…

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Hi all.

For today’s Mondays Muse, we’re going to back to school.

 

Or rather, as in my case, still there, slugging it out. I like to think of myself as an MFA pawn, deep in the trenches, surviving by gut and instinct, and just trying to dodge all the bullets being thrown my way. 

This month I was blessed enough to have been invited to guest blog on Wendy Van Kamp’s site, nowastedink.com  . You can find my whole piece, Workshop Woes by Lisa Ciarfella there. It gets into the nitty gritty of it all, and hopefully inspires some can do attitude with a much needed dose of positive vibes for those of you who going through it too. And even for those of you who aren’t…us writers are all the same. We all need to feel wrapped in comforting prose from time to time, by people who get it and embrace what we’re trying to create, instead of those at odds with our dreams.

As you will see, most of my last year and a half has been spent trying to figure out where those bullets were coming from, and which direction to duck next. But survive I have and as I sit cranking out what’s left of my thesis under the serious deadline gun, just thought I’d take a quick break and share some of those trials and tribulations with you all.

I fgure, a lot of you out there, can relate!  I mean, MFA or not, who among the writer camp can’t say they havent’ encountered at least a few of these situations along the way…it’s all part of the writers journey. Good, bad, or ugly, writing is like a wash/dry cycle. You wont come out the same way you went in. And over time, that’s probably a good thing!

Back to the thesis now, banging it out, one key at a time.

See you on the boards soon,

Ciao for now, and darkly yours,

Lisa

 

Fun Flash Friday, and the dentist…

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Frightening Book Cover

So. It’s that time again kids and kiddettes!

Freaking fun, fantastically fabulous Friday. That day where we get to look forward to the few hours of precious time on the weekends to release, relax, and re-energize! Or, as case may have it, go to the f-ing dentist!

Yes fellow fraidy-cats, today was that time again. And seeing as I’d already been putting it off for as long as humanly possible, having canceled and rescheduled at least 3 times in the last 3 months coming up with brilliant but not so real imaginary excuses every single time, I’d figured it was time to bite the bullett, or rather the probing tool, and buck up for my own Little Shop of Horrors first hand experience!

For those of you who’ve seen the film, and for those of you who haven’t: Here’s a cautionary “viewer beware” rating. A movie caught in the middle, between a PG13, “shield your kids eyes from the nasty” film, and an adult only R, that has you shielding your own eyes from the horrors. Only with this film, your never quite sure whether you should be looking, or not! It’s one of those “peek behind the fingers covering my eyes” but in small doses only. And then retreat back again quick when Seymour (Rick Moranis) starts feeding the insatiable plant, with body parts axed up from the what’s left over of the dentist (Steve Martin.) MMM. Getting hungry just thinking bout’ it!

Things really get twisted  when Martin comes riding down the street in his black leather motorcycle get up and singing about how his mom always told him he’d be a success if he’d only become a tooth man. Especially, since he loved to torture and terrorize  small animals and other less bully-inclinced types of kids. All I can say is, Go Mom!

Especially love the scene where Seymour’s in Martin’s office under pretense of needing work done, and instead, whips out a gun wanting to kill off Martin for smacking around the film’s femme fatale, and his girlfriend to be, Audry. But, as fate would have it, Martin’s laughing gas gets the last laugh as it gasses him to death in the corner!

Seymour looks on horrified, or, is he really?? Not only did he not have to use the gun, but evil mouth man has been dealt a lesson, a Karma-strikes back only kind of lesson, where the pain he’s inflicted on who knows how many is coming back to haunt him bad! His final and frightening grand finale!

Take that,  Mr. Mouth Man! It’s come full circle!

 

And now, as I sit in my own personal tooth-trench hell, reclining and staring up at the photos of dental menace and mayhem plastered on the ceiling above me, I can’t help but wonder –  Just where the hell is the gas?

Real world creative non-fiction, or freakin fun, Friday fantasy? You decide.

Ovef and out, from a half crazed, overly anxious patient waiting room, where darkly insane thoughts are running fast, and furious!

 

Oh. And just because:

The cover work you see here is the brilliant anthology, where my very first published short story now lives! Another creepy, crawly, and somewhat demented short story called “Midnight in Alaska” where I ramble on about wolves howling and prowling in the distance, and spooky Santa Clause North Pole happenings all in the dead of the Alaskan night!

If any of you ever check it out, do drop me a line, and let me know. Pretty proud of it, as  I can now call myself officially published! Happy Friday, fiction fans. See you around the campsite soon!

Ciao for now, and darkly yours, 

Lisa 

Mondays Muse…

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Stphen King-on writing2

Stphen King-on writing2

SO, here we go with this week’s Mondays Muse, as promised. And take a guess what we’re talking about? Yep, you guessed it, writing fiction! And who better to guide us through the murky, distant, tantalizing, and creepy waters than the master himself, Mr. Stephen King!

All’s I can say is, if you’re a writer and you haven’t read this book, run, don’t walk, to your nearest library and check it out. Or, if you’re unlike moi, that is to say not a broke and struggling grad student, and you actually have two cents to rub together, maybe even consider buying it. Not only does it look great on your shelf, but it contains so many nuggets of writerly wisdom, you’re eyes and ears will consume it faster than you would that chocolate pie or the newest rendition of Marry the night from Lady Gaga. Yes folks, it’s one you wont put down till the last page is done and the corners are dog-eared stiff! And or until the lights go out because the wind is howling so hard outside you’re sure he must be out there somewhere in the dark channeling his particular brand of writer spooked through the rain and into the walls of your dwelling space. 

Either way, my heartfelt advice is to check it out, and soon! It’s nuggets like these, that will catch your eye. I know they did mine, for sure!

” The first story I did actually publish was in a horror fanzine…I was a teenaged Grave-robber…After  a long time spent studying the markets, I sent Happy stamps off to Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine. It came back three weeks later with a form rejection slip…By the time I was fourteen…the nail in my wall would no longer support the weight of the rejection slips impaled upon it. I replace the nail with a spike and went on writing.” (p. 38-41)

Okay peeps…don’t know about you, but that’s all good for me. In fact, if you follow me here and or on FB at all, you know that I recently just got my very first published short story ever up in a horror anthology called Fightening. The story’s called “Midnight in Alaska,” a creepy crawly Stephen King-like tale, and I like to think he’d be proud to know there are those of us who are out here, following in his footsteps. Or, at the very least, dying to try! (wink-nudge-haha.)

Well. That’s all for now folks. Gotta go burn that midnight oil and keep the spooks at bay while I crack open another less, than desirable grad school text-book which is due tomorrow, but took a serious back seat to Mr. King and friends.

See you all on the boards soon, at Friday’s Fun Flash Fiction. Make sure to stay tuned for that, caz. you never know what’s gonna fall out of this brain!

Ciao for now, 

Lisa

Mondays Muse

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What’s your Monday Muse?

Ours is whatever we’re reading that inspires our fancy or catches our interest in a big way. Maybe even a book review, author interview, or just some simple inspiration from the read. Like this below, from creep master himself, Mr. Edgar Allan Poe.

 

Poe-house in philly.jpg

THE RAVEN:

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
“‘Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door;
This it is and nothing more.”

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door—
Darkness there and nothing more….

What’s your Monday Muse??? Comments, welcome!

Project Gutenberg EBook of The Raven, by Edgar Allan Poe

North Pole Nightmares…

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snow covered street to nowhere

Sweat poured down my eyes, onto my chest and into my t-shirt getting me all wet and pumped. Adrenaline kicked in as I rounded the corner lot and my stopwatch clicked off the 3/4-mile mark. Hitting my stride now, feet pumping, fast as they could carry me, I was feeling good now, breathe evened, focus narrowed. Two miles was the goal today, and I knew I could do it. I reached down into my pack without breaking my stride, grabbing up my water bottle and slugged it down, not noticing the curb up ahead, when boom! Right foot over left, tumbling down, ankle buckles, and the right knee goes pop while slamming into concrete, hot and dirty. My hands go in front of my face, trying to block the inevitable, but white heat starts spreading up my leg, and into my thigh. I grab my right foot and groan, but no one’s around to hear. It’s midnight here on the other side of the globe, and the sun’s blazing this time of night in Alaska, but I’m all alone on the pavement, while my right knee’s turning purple and my foot’s looking twisted twenty ways from Sunday……I look around for someone, anyone. But all I hear are my own cries. And the lone wolf, somewhere out there in the near distance…

Fun Flash Fiction Fridays…

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Hey Mr. DJ…

(by yours truly)  

DJ Image

Image courtesy of DJ Nederland (@NLDJTwitter

 

Bill sat high up in his DJ tower over looking the frenzied dance crowd down below. He had just started spinning Madonna’s Vogue and the players on the floor were hitting some serious poses. One guy had his right arm up in a salute and the chick he’d been slapping around had her face down in his crotch, tongue going up and down fast, in perfect time to the beats, pretending to do the nasty.

Her licks looked like they were coming in right on target, about 125 per minute. The tongue never seemed to slow down.

Another couple on the floor was bee bopping in 2/4 time and was swinging his partner round in circles like a rag doll. But they were hitting their marks perfectly every time. Not bad considering he had to get her all the way around to land it. But that Janet Jackson crew over in the far corner carving out a semi perfect rendition of Rhythm Nation, now they were impressive! Banging it out on the down beat, 130 beats per minute exact.

Boy, were they ever on point! Looked like their troupe had been practicing since they were born. Not a foot out of line, not a step right when it should have been left. A precision drill team, hitting their marks, spot on every time. Bill would have to stay on his game to keep this this crowd grooving happy.

He leaned down to pick out the next set of discs. Let’s see. Kool and the Gang’s newest on the Celebrate CD was calling to him. It was 125 to 135 BPM’s all the way, right on track with what the crews were slamming out down below. But to be sure, he needed to count it.

He grabbed the massive headphones and stuck them on his ears. Madonna shouted in his left ear, while K and gang rang in his right. He counted, drumming the reps out with his fingers.

              Eight reps per set, eight sets per move, two moves per step down below. 130 beats per minute That’s what he was going for. A disco ball flashed in his face. He squinted and held out the left ear to hone in;

              95, 100, 110, 120, Nailed it! With a flick of his wrist, he spun the disk round hard and let her rip. 

              Let’s Get this party started, ya’ll.

 

 

This week’s Monday Muse, and last night’s escapade…

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the-night-patrol

Google Images

So, last night’s real life crime drama played out before my eyes as I rode along LBPD’s finest set of real life police characters in Signal Hill. Many thanks to Officer Taylor who chauffered me along all night and patiently and kindly explained how things work out there in his nightly world of cops and robbers. And kudos to the bad guys we had first hand dealings with who made my night and caused me to take lots and lots of handscribbled notes in the dark as we drove around and arrested, searched, and seized the stuff HBO movies are made of. Here’s a recap of my notes and some of our best scary, or rather shady, moments:

“Just arrested a dude shoplifting at home depot, and brought him in for booking..the kicker was, his wife sat chain smoking outside waiting on us, and yelling the whole time for the car keys so she could bail…

Earlier we busted down the door in room 12 at a motel 6 where a bunch of tweekers were out on bail and had warrants for possession of firearms. 
When we went inside, there were glass pipes and the smell of smoke everywhere…they sat out on the curb, cuffed and waiting….
The tall tattooed one in the middle had a brick of Mary Jane bigger than a basketballl…
Looks like he’s going back into the system…Too bad he just got out 3 weeks ago…

Definitely gonna be a long night… more fun and games ahead, as this shift lasts another 12 hours, and we’ve barely just started…

This just in…Gotta go now and chase down a guy reported wandering around with a gun at Mcdonalds…”

Gotta say, I came home pumped at midnight, and wanted to do it all over again! In fact, I’ve already got another one in the works with LBPD so stay tuned for more on this score!

 

Hope I gave you all something to muse about on this lovely Monday Morning!  

What’s your Monday muse??  Jump on in here, the water’s warm!

 

 

The Perfect Storm…

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What’s your perfect storm like for writing?
Is it a a white-out, snow driven, stephen king-ish type day where the wind’s whistling at 20 below and the only respite is found bundled up inside the 4 walls of the house hiding underneath the drifts?
Or is it the opposite; a sunny, shore drenched cove, where the kids are bopping and the waves are rolling and margaritas flowing…

Personally, I prefer days like below  – cold, crisp, and clear…with my pup curled up by my feet, and the world shut out tight, with only the keyboard to contend with on my lap.

Would luv to hear your thoughts on the matter…
the perfect storm...

It’s 2016, and a real hum-dinger!

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Well, well, well. If 2016 didn’t ring in with a bang! A real humdinger, if ever there was.

Especially since as of today, I can officially rank myself among the chosen lucky. You know, that group of published authors whose stories can be both found and bought on Amazon. Yes folks, I rang in this new year with a glass of the bubbly and a little private dance I like to call “the bear” which, I give credit to my big brother for, and which tends to follow my high points where ever and what ever they be. Granted, the groove is a little goofy. But hey. I figure, dancing in my pj’s in my basement with no one but my pup giving me the once over doesn’t exactly make for a Kodak moment. So you wont be seeing the rendition here any time soon. But rest assured, yours truly is feeling pretty pumped!

My short story, “Midnight in Alaska” is now up on Amazon, and part of a 20 tale horror print anthology put out by the terrific team at Sez Publishing at  http://www.amazon.com/Frightening-collective-work-Sez-Publishing/dp/1519590954/ref=sr_1_1?

The story was inspired by an Anchorage to Dinali cruise I took through the great white state a while back. And if you’ve never been, Alaska truly is like the wild west. Its own frontier, just bursting at the seams for story writers, especially creepy crawly Stephen King kind of stories. (Not that I’m comparing myself to the master. I’m not. Never would.) But his writing is seriously inspirational in that respect, and the Alaskan backdrop basically cries out for that kind of a creep. Santa Claus land, as it turns out, doesn’t only inspire sugarplum dreams of candy canes and mistletoe, but seriously flawed fairy tales gone way the heck and yonder off the beaten track and far down some deserted path instead. Really. Go for yourself and you’ll see what I mean!

I was also blessed to enough to have been asked to guest blog this month on Wendy Van Kamp’s site, http://nowastedink.com/category/guest-posts/. It would be great to see all of you there too, so drop on by and leave your thoughts. All in all, a pretty good January, and it’s only the first week!

If you’ve been following my blog here at all, you know that my first writing love in Noir, and crime fiction. And I’ve been busy writing that stuff too. A novel is in the definite works, and I’m in the trenches slogging it out, making good headway. And I have another short story coming out sometime this year in a pretty well-known publication in the crime writing community. But I hesitate to name it quite yet, as I don’t like to jinx things. But that’s all the more reason for you to keep checking back in on me to keep me honest at posting the dirt first hand as it happens.

My blogging goals this year are simple:

Monday’s Muse posting: Here I’ll post my weekly reads and reviews on classic noir, classic crime fiction, and classic detective novels from the masters of the past who have a thing or three to teach on us on honing our craft. Watch for this week’s post, on Dashiell Hammett’s, “The Thin Man.”

Author to Author: Watch for  weekly posts where I highlight my favorite authors and other bloggers who have put out the business, making my ears stand up in the process with great author to author interviews, and their tips and tricks on how to write better fiction.

Also,  watch for Fun Flash Fiction posts, where I put up a new story a week, as the muse inspires, and or as you submit.

Hope to see you around the campsite and I’ll be looking for your comments, so don’t be shy. And, if you have a piece you want me to put up, feel free to send it. I can’t pay. But if it’s mysterious, intriguing, or just plain weird, send it on over and I’ll consider it. The more the merrier, I always say.

 

Here’s to a rockin’ 2016 all!

Ciao for now,

Lisa

Where Do Ideas Come From and What Will They Think if I Write Them?! by Anonymous-9

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Anonymous 9 talks pantsers vs outliners, banned cats, and pen names to      protect, all while building up. A must read for all up and coming writers who like herself, tend to fly by the seat of their pants!

( Much thanks to Elizabeth White for the original interview posting)

It is my extreme pleasure to welcome to the blog today the woman, the myth, the legend… Anonymous-9. Where Do Ideas Come From? None of my ideas come fully formed. Inspiration is unusually sourced. For instance, way back in 2008, I was eagerly searching for e-zine publishers for my third and

Source: Where Do Ideas Come From and What Will They Think if I Write Them?! by Anonymous-9

Itchy finger.

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Strong read along here folks, from the renowned Paul White. Goes down quick and dirty. Just the way I like em’!!!  Itchy finger.  by Paul white.  

Re-bloggeg from: his site at: .https://alittlemorefiction.wordpress.com

“It was a strange sensation to be pointing my gun at the old man. I should have simply pulled the trigger as I normally do, but something made me hesitate and now I was looking at him, looking at him as a person.
That was a mistake…”

THE GENESIS OF A STORY

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To structure or not? That is the question here, and Jim tackles it well. He says
” For me the experience is intuitive, as if storytelling is archetypal in nature. The story seems to want to be discovered. It unfolds on its own. Then, in order to keep it from turning into an unmanageable mess, rather than impose the structure of timeline, plot line, or synopsis, I take a more distant view. ”
What do you think? Do you work best with a self imposed structure, or does your best work come from winging it? Weigh in with your thoughts here.