Friday fatigue

Today is Friday. From 10am until around 3pm today the Rise of the Goddess launch party occurred online. It was very interesting. Before my slot as the host I had prepared a script and pictures to up load, organised the prizes and all sorts of other good things and would you believe, of course the best laid plans of rodents and blokes. Computer froze, FB froze, I couldn't find the post, I didn't pin. I didn't explain my game properly and it was not a disaster. I managed to do it on the fly, wing it so to speak, do the thing and the other thing and I had enthusiastic players and a lot of fun.

The book was ranking high in its first day. I want to purchase a paper copy when it becomes available. The main thing I realised is I need to write some novels and get them out in the world. Longer stories and series. I need to let my brain come up with some kick bottom awesome characters and events and make it happen.


I had a visitor during the event and she bought me over some home grown vegetables and fruit. YUMMO hug hug

 these were the awesome prize packs I had the enormous pleasure of handing out to the winners of my games.

Now I am off to make art. Back later but perhaps not today.OOOOOH I forgot to tell you my art was featured on another blog which is dedicated to illustration. It was so exciting when someone else posted about it which is how I found out. WOW  http://kathytemean.wordpress.com/2014/03/20/synopsis-check-list/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+WritingAndIllustrating+%28Writing+and+Illustrating%29  It was my cherry blossom tree from the 52 week challenge.


a mini horror story...


Cecilia Clark
Kaleidoscope
The telephone booths coalesce giddily and I stumble toward what I hope is the real one. I can’t feel my feet and the blast still echoes so loud in my head I hear nothing else. Some other sense makes me swivel to one side and I see…GOD I see multiples of everything, twisting grotesquely through my kaleidoscope eyes. I think I fall. The angle of the images changes. Grasping at mirages in the maelstrom of my terror, I try to find the telephone again. I feel nothing. I hear too much to hear anything. All of my hands are in slow motion. Which is real? I need to find the number, the null, the void I’m falling into. Zero, zero, zero; I can’t hear my voice. Am I yelling? Am I whispering? Have they even connected with me? I can’t hear. “Accident. Help.” Can they hear me? “Trace the call,” I think I say. Something shutters my eyes. Blessed relief from the shattered images brings it’s own terror. Now I am shrouded. I feel nothing, no sound, no sight, my heart is pounding in my chest, drumming painful rhythms on my ribs. My fingertips tingle; my awareness focuses on this small return to myself. I lift my fingers to my face. Sticky warmth attaches the tips to my brow. I focus. I focus. I force my awareness into my fingertips and into the viscous glue. Its blood? I know now. Is it my blood? The metallic scent slides into my nostrils. I taste it on the back of my tongue. My fingers explore the trail, seeking a source. Something touches my face and muscles react, instant retreat. I can't breathe, I can't breathe; ribs constrict against a frantic heartbeat. Something firm encircles me, hard, solid, immovable, holding. Cool wetness in rough fabric, exploring my face. Someone else? Something tight unwinds; the chaos retreats. One eye is released from its sticky coating, light returns in blurred fogginess; a corner of the shroud lifts. A face looms in the fog; no detail. Warm breath brushes my skin, I feel it sliding over my cheek in time with the cloth on my face. Distorted sounds itch my eardrums. Muffled and unrecognisable, but my brain figures out someone is asking me something. It is important. I know it is important. I have to concentrate and remember what it is that was so important. Pain explodes fireworks inside my skull. New sounds take over the distorted ones. An animal in extreme pain howls its agony into my head. A small rational voice in some quiet corner of my mind wonders how an animal wandered into this. A movement in the periphery of my fog brings focus and understanding in a torrential cascade of memory. Blue, red, blue, red, flashing. People, people, there is no animal, there is just me I am the animal howling! Where are my children?