She’s Cute, Creepy and Completely in Love with Herself

When I shared the first “Camp Cute, Creepy (and quite conveniently) Remote” story, a reader suggested that pointing out that Drusilla, the main character, had no arms or legs, “and worse, making her disability into a joke was insensitive” of me.

A few days ago, I announced on Facebook that I had revised Drusilla’s stories and planned to republish them on the days preceding Holly’s Vampire’s Day Soirée. The same reader told me she was “very happy to find out [I] had listened to [her] and rewrote the Camp stories.”

I was confused at first. Then, I remembered the conversation… and felt even more puzzled—I revised the web serial to standardize the format and to fill in some plot holes, not to change the content. Drusilla’s story is all about her being delighted with what and who she is and feeling annoyed (even livid) towards anyone who wishes to change her.

The writing never makes fun of Drusilla’s body. As of right now, the word “disabled” hasn’t been used in “Camp Cute, Creepy (and quite conveniently) Remote”. Our Drusilla is different, not broken. I don’t think she wants people to walk around pretending that they don’t notice that she’s armless and legless. In fact, I’m certain the real insensitivity lies in not seeing her and appreciating her exactly as she is—cute, creepy and completely in love with herself.

Anyhoo, the rewritten Drusilla stories will start going live on Wednesday, at midnight Eastern Standard Time, so you will have the chance to judge for yourself. I will post one tale every day, from February 8th to February 14th, except the 13th.

Your thoughts, my Wicked Luvs?

Drusilla Amarantha Tepes, the Only
(stitched to life by Emma Yardis, mistress of Groovy Gothic)

We’ll Always Have Smoke Signals

She was doing just fine. And then the fainting spells began… She’s an old gal and all, but I hoped we would be together at least until my 40th birthday. I know she is trying. So I don’t blame her… Time is hard on all of us (the insufferable bastard). I must learn to let her go…

…especially since she has fainted at least 8 times in the last 30 minutes. Maybe she fears this note. Perhaps the word hiatus is too scary for her. I understand that. Still, we all have our limits… and my enough-is-enough seems to go nuts in the presence of constant Victorian cyber-swooning.

So, my Wicked Luvs, I’ll write you in a week or so… My household is rather busy at the moment. I need to wait a bit… computer shopping is more fun when I do it with my Piano Man *cough*.

Until then, I shall see you on Facebook and Instagram. And if my phone also fails, we’ll always have smoke signals… and shouting… really, really, really loud shouting… and ellipses, obviously…

hammered-socksThese awesome socks were made for writing (by hand?)
and for getting hammered, it seems…
but since I don’t drink, for writing by hand they will be.

Of Caribbean Gothic and Observing One’s Own Life from the Outside

“People build something that works. Then circumstances change, and they have to tinker with it to make it continue to work, and they are so busy tinkering that they cannot see that a much better idea would be to build a whole new system to deal with the new circumstances. But to an outsider, the idea is obvious.” ~ Monstrous Regiment, by Terry Pratchett

I’m stable enough to start writing full time again. This doesn’t mean that I’m healed or cured or anything that fun—my illnesses are chronic, so we just have to learn to live with each other. By stable, I mean that I understand my ailments enough to know how much I can push and for how long. That’s as good as it gets (for now). There are days when my feet and hands hurt so much that I can barely concentrate. The same goes for the left side of my back, and my stomach.

But the pain no longer takes me by surprise. I’ve learned to identify the signs, to ready myself for the nasty kicks. When the pain is bad, but not quite killing me yet, I watch television in bed with my Piano Man, do house cleaning, blog, play with my books, complain, and do other fun things that don’t take tons of brain power. I use my good days for editing, rewriting, and for doing other bits that require concentration.

During one of my really good days—while battling with two storylines that didn’t seem to like each other much—I realized something: at the moment, my immune system and I don’t have enough consecutive good days to deal with the stress involved in independent publishing. So I started revising the novel I wanted to self-publish next year, in order to make it as agent worthy as I possibly could. The more I worked on it, the more I knew that I didn’t want to change anything about it. I got frustrated. After lots of arguing with myself, I set the novel aside and reread some Pratchett. I laughed really hard when I got to the quote at the beginning of this post. I took the words as a sign from my Knight Writer.

So yesterday, I asked Facebook friends to choose between Caribbean Gothic, Mythical Circus and Mythical Realities. I didn’t say why—but since I have super brilliant friends, they deduced that I was talking about stories to be written. The winning choice (by a rather healthy margin) was Caribbean Gothic. I had three ideas for new novels in my head. But like any word-mother, who loves all her children equally, I couldn’t pick one. Thank you for the help, my Wicked Luvs.

I shall start putting pen to paper (all right, fingertips to keyboard) on the morning of the 28th. I haven’t met all the characters yet. But I know the story’s beginning, two of the main conflicts, and most of the ending. And yes, I know the setting—a Dominican Republic (real and imagined) bursting with wonders, beauties and horrors.

There will probably certainly be mangoes, wild witchery, fighting, loving, and furious dancing.

Hard Times Require Furious Dancingdetail from the cover of Hard Times Require Furious Dancing, by Alice Walker