Writing Prompts

Nearly seventeen years ago I brought The Teen into this world. 

In celebration of that, my awesome-and-handsome boyfriend Brandon gave me two books of writing prompts a couple days ago, to help cure my recent bout of writer's block.

Isn't he awesome?

So I've decided to share some of my experiments with these writing prompts with you, my adoring fans, I mean my friends in the blogosphere. Not every one, just the ones I particularly like.

Here's the first. Enjoy!

Prompt: The briefcase was heavy in his hand and the gun tucked into his waistband felt awkward.

Here's what I came up with:

 The briefcase was heavy in Tim's hand and the gun tucked into his waistband felt awkward. Who the Hell did he think he was kidding? He was no G-man. What the fuck was a G-man anyway? Did anyone even say that outside of 70s-era Bond movies? Relax Tim, he told himself. It's all gonna go down nice and easy. In and out in 15 minutes. Just collect the money and go home and bang Shannon.

An image of Shannon popped up in his mind: she was bent over at the waist in their walk-in closet, reaching for a pair of heels he'd purposefully moved out of her reach so he could get a look at her juicy ass.

“Dammit!” She'd said. “Why do my things always move? It's like they're playing tricks on me.”

“What are you going on about?” He'd laughed then. “Your things don't move.”

“Yes they do!” She waved the heels in his face. “These were in front, by my flip-flops. Then all of a sudden they're way in the back by my suitcase. Now why would I put these heels by my suitcase?”

Shannon flipped her unruly curls off her forehead and added, “Hmmm?” Her cheeks were rosy with indignation.

Tim felt himself get hard. He could've taken her right then: just bent her over the bed, ripped off her teeny white shorts and taken her, but Shannon would never allow that. She'd just scoff and tell him to be a man. That's what she was always saying: Be a man, Tim!

That's what this job was about, wasn't it? Proving to Shannon that he could be a man?  

Some People Call Me a Space Cowboy: Writer's Block and Other Disasters

Most of life is rush, rush, rush.
                        Work, work, work.
        Bitch, bitch, bitch.
With some periodic breaks for sleep, sleep, sleep, and, if you're lucky:
                                          Laugh, laugh, laugh and love, love, love.




Here's the rub: you can't live like that. Living like that is a recipe for insanity.

I've been struggling with a shit ton of writer's block lately. Hence the existential angst. Do you write? Have you suffered from writer's block? Are you engaged in other artsy-fartsy-type creative endeavors? Can you relate to the Writer's Block?

I'd love to start a conversation about this. Who the fuck do we creative types think we are, getting all angsty about having to live real life without a creative outlet? Are we really so special that we have to invent crazy-ass syndromes all for ourselves? Or is the creative mind just a bit, oh, let's say, unique (read: insane) and thus really does need a creative outlet?

Talk to me! Leave a comment and tell me how you've worked through your own creative constipation! Or, if you think writers are full of shit when we talk about writer's block, or struggle with our muse, tell me that! I won't bite!

And follow me on twitter!  

Gasher Creek: It's Rough Out There for a Whore

First things first: I don't read Westerns. Well, there was a few months when I was a sophomore in high school that I got on a kick with the Wagons West series by Dana Fuller Ross (you know: Independence! Nebraska! Wyoming! And so on!) but that was really more of a literary divergence for me. Not that there's anything wrong with Westerns. They're just generally not for me.

But that was before I discovered Gasher Creek, by J. Birch.

On the first page of this amazing novel, Jack, our protaganist, wakes up in a whorehouse bed next to the battered dead body of Sally the Whore. Hank Dupois, the whorehouse proprietor, towers over him with a shotgun. Jack himself is suspiciously unharmed, and remembers next to nothing of the previous day.

And what Jack does remember suggests that he's the killer.

Gasher Creek is a masterfully written tale. The characters live and breathe and spit and shoot and cuss and kill.
 The narrative is told mainly through the adventures of Jack Devlin as he attempts to outrun the law and Sheriff Tracker as he attempts to serve it. Along the way we meet others: some homesteaders, an Indian who's learning to be a preacher, and a sinister coyote the size of a barn.

The pace of this novel is fast. The scenery is lush. I raced through this book in about a quarter of the time it usually takes me to read a full-length novel. I read in bed and at work, over breakfast, while waiting for people and appointments. I just couldn't put it down.

Read Gasher Creek. Just trust me on this. I don't care if, like me, you don't read Westerns.

Buy it for your Kindle!

How Batman Totally Saved my SeaWeed

If you follow me on twitter (and if you don't you totally should! Follow me!) you've probably noticed lately that I've had some...difficulties with my current #WIP, LOCKE AND KEY.

I began this project at the beginning of the year, and I was sooooo excited about it! Since I ventured into self-publishing for the Kindle in 2011, I've published a series of short thrillers, a couple memoirs, and even a couple of short smutty pieces under the name Sasha Sparks (Follow her on twitter!) That's a huge array of literature, but LOCKE AND KEY--a young adult, lesbian, super-hero novel--is different entirely. And I was ready to stretch my writing muscles in new and exciting ways.

And I still am! But I've got to put LOCKE AND KEY down for a bit. I'm about halfway through the first draft, and I'm finding myself less and less connected to my characters, and less and less sure about where I'm going. I'm a pantser, so I'm accustomed to a certain amount of anxiety and nail-biting in my writing, but this has gone beyond predictable levels.

Here's the plan:
I'm putting LOCKE AND KEY down for now. And I'm picking up my next project. It's another novel, so I'm still going for the literary marathon, but this isn't YA, or super-hero oriented. There's no coming-of-age in this project. This is a story of a serial killer.

Literary Research

 

 



 



Meanwhile, Brandon's gonna read what I've cobbled together on LOCKE AND KEY, and give me a fair assessment. Maybe I'll go forth with both projects at that point, or maybe I'll finish the serial killer novel first. Not sure. We'll have to wait and see.

Stick around here or stalk me on twitter, and you'll be among the first to know what the outcome is!

And here! Just for you:

Batman Totally Saved My Seaweed

I'll Haunt Your House!

By show of hands, who here loves a good ghost story? I mean a real spine-tingling, toe-curling, hair-raising tale. The kind that makes your gut churn. The kind you can only read with the lights on.

*Raises hand*

Well have I got a story for YOU!

When Alex fantasized about buying her dream home, she didn’t imagine it would include a regiment of reappearing corpses.

But that’s exactly what she got.

In CHARLIE, Alex Hutchinson buys the home she hopes she and her fiancé will start a family in. But unfortunately for her, family bliss isn’t in the cards. Instead she gets Charlie, the corpse who won’t stay away.

What’s a girl to do? Call the cops? Bury the bothersome stiff in the basement? Run away to Spain? Alex tries a little of everything as her rotting, unwanted visitor pops in with ever-increasing frequency and the fabric of her once-tidy life unravels around her.

You can download CHARLIE to your Kindle or Kindle app for 99 cents! Or, if you're an Amazon Prime member, you can borrow it FREE!

Click me! I'll take you to the amazon page!

I <3 ghost="" p="" stories=""> 

Adventures in Bartending 3, Part 1: Tequila and Board Games on a Friday Night

For my third Bartending Adventure I decided to play with tequila because, well just because I never really had before.

Don't get me wrong. I love a pretty and delicious margarita as much as the next grrrl. But until this weekend I'd never explored any other sides of Mexico's most famous contribution to the world. So I busted out my bartending guide and I picked out a few different drinks.

My Bartender's Bible



I picked out some girly drinks: Alamo, God Bless Texastini, and one called Salma Hayek (that actually didn't turn out that well).
And I picked out some not-girly drinks: Alamo Powow, Flat Tire at the Border, Prairie Fire Shooter, Tequila Slammer.

Now I had every intention of trying all of those drinks. And frankly that's a lot of drinks. So I decided to spread the Adventure out over Friday and Saturday nights. That way I should be able to avoid the pesky alcohol poisoning.

Let's get to the Adventure!

Friday night started with tequila slammers and a kick-ass board game Brandon found called Furt.




Tequila Slammer

The Tequila Slammer is a simple, classic shooter. It's 1&1/2 ounces of tequila and 2 ounces of Sprite. Pour both liquids in a rocks glass, then slam it down so it gets all fizzy and shoot! Simple, fun, and an awesome way to open a cool party game like Furt.





Coolest Game You Haven't Played Yet



 Furt kicks so much ass. And I sincerely enjoyed the Tequila Slammer. We were all laughing and having a grand time. Brandon texted his brother and sister to tell them about the game and they immediately responded with an invite for Saturday night. But I wanted more to drink. And there was a nearly full bottle of vodka in the closet, and a recipe for an intriguing sounding drink in my bartender book: The Mind Eraser.

The Mind Eraser isn't a tequila drink, so I don't suppose it really belongs in this Adventure. But it was a Bartending Adventure weekend, and that was a new drink for me, so there! It belongs!

Mind Eraser
1 ounce vodka
1 ounce coffee liqueur
club soda to fill

Pour the liquids into a rocks glass with ice. Stick in a straw and drink all at once.

Here's what the Mind Eraser tastes like: fizzy, alcoholic iced coffee. That's pretty much it. And it's pretty much yummy.



Drinks Go Sideways When You're Drunk





An hour or two into what's now one of my all-time favorite party games I lost spectacularly. A couple tequila slammers, a couple mind erasers and a whiskey drink caught up to me all at once and I collapsed on the floor in a fit of giggles. And that was that.

But that was hardly the end of my Bartending Adventure weekend. We had plans to get together with Brandon's brother and sister, their significant others, and their folks Saturday night, and I had plans to bring my Adventure to them.

Tune in tomorrow night for Adventures in Bartending 3, Part 2: Hangovers are like Girl Scout Badges for Bartenders, Right?

Still to Come!

COMING SOON TO THIS GRRRL'S BLOG!!

Next weekend I will regale you with tales of my latest Adventure in Bartending! (I'm gonna experiment with tequila!)

Next month--the second Saturday of April to be exact--I will review a fabulous novel by J. Birch, Gasher Creek!

In between, well, let's just see what happens!