Written Whispers

Author Archive

Writerly Week

August 17th, 2010

0

My writerly achievements this week:

Began:

  1. Several poem snippets… as usual.
  2. An odd piece called Indifferent Nobodies.
  3. Penned up an idea I’m calling Paper Girl.

Worked On:

  1. Retyped up a chapter of FF for Ree and helped her edit it along the way.
  2. Remembered a project I could be working on.
  3. Played with a newer version of Above The Dizzy Tizzy.
  4. Lots and lots of comic work with Ree. Scripting, inking, researching, etc.
  5. More outlining for Kat’s Tail 2.0.

Other:

  1. Finished and sent out If Teeth, alas, it was rejected.
  2. Tried valiantly to expand my reading list.
  3. Installed and played with Dragon Naturally Speaking. I’ve begun to think I speak with a lisp, lol.

Pudding Cookies For The Win!

July 29th, 2010

2

Guess what I did today!

I made No-Bake Pudding Cookies.

I’m always a little cautious when it comes to desserts because while I’ve proven to be a decent cook, despite my once upon a time denials, sweets never really come out as I intend them. Cake, sweet bread, cookies, muffins. Zip. I suck. No matter how much I measure they come out too dry, too runny, so some how- I always miss that bit of eggshell.

It never fails.

But this time, this was gorgeous. I decided last night that I wanted to make something for my Hubby since he’d be working and I’d be home for once (I’m technically sick but not in the contagious sort of way.) so I looked around on one of my favorite recipe sites for something fairly easy to make and procure since we haven’t been grocery shopping in awhile…

And then I came across No-Bake Cookies. Sounded like a good idea, I’m not really into them. I usually find them too dry or too sweet so I looked around until I found one that seemed to suit my lack of proper ingredients and then I came across it: No-Bake Pudding Cookies!

After reading the reviews and playing around a bit I came up with this alternative to the original recipe:

Ingredients:

  1. 1 cup of sugar
  2. 1 stick of butter
  3. 3/4 cup milk
  4. 1 package instant pudding mix (3.9 ounces / any flavor)
  5. 3 and 1/2 quick cooking oats
  6. 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Directions:

  1. Mix butter, milk, and sugar in a pot and bring to a boil for 3 minutes.
    [I had mine on simmer till the butter started to melt so I wouldn't burn it or the sugar.]
  2. Turn off heat. Move off burner. Let cool just a moment.
  3. Grab room temperature bowl and mix: instant pudding mix, quick cooking oats, vanilla extract, and boiled mixture.
  4. Stir and mush together till it looks edible.
  5. Place large spoonfuls on a flat non-stick pan (or wax paper).
    [Press each clump while still warm to prevent later crumbling.]
  6. To eat quickly place pan in the freezer for ten minutes

Note on flavors:

  1. Tried: Chocolate pudding mix came out a little bitter. You may want to add a little more sugar.
  2. Tried: Lemon and banana seemed to come out the best and can be made with even less sugar.
  3. Heard: Butterscotch remains very sticky.
  4. Seen: Pistachio comes out green…

Great for people allergic to wheat, eggs, nuts, and soy. The site says it makes a lot more than it does- I got maybe 10-12 cookies out of each batch I did today though maybe I just like really big cookies… :)

Above The Dizzy Tizzy

July 28th, 2010

4

Could have done a long over due ‘Writerly Week’ tonight but since I’ve only just began to have time again I think I’ll wait till next time and make a proper list of what I’ve been up to. :) In the mean time, here’s some miscellaneous thing that jumped out of my skull. Haven’t posted something like this in awhile so pardon the quality and give it a read.

My inspiration was something I said, something along the lines of:

When I can get out from beneath this self-clutter…

I am here.

Beneath the scars of a cluttered past and the rotten covered strawberries of her romance. Beneath our silver pedigree and crimson charm. Beneath cardboard courthouses, paper sins, and quarters in a jar.

Between window bars and shattered glass. Between one soft voice and wish upon a comet. Between the polka dots and an empty casket- both speaking for the presence they would always never hold. Between abrasion and comfort, and blood upon the wall.

Beneath dancing shadows and moon layered masks. Beneath the billiard tables and brittle bones, the blue green glow of double stained glass, greasy food, and filthy hands.

Between one-hundred blankets and the rock hard flood. Between book dust and burning candles, the impression and the act. Between the pavement and the night caressing silent steps.

Between vodka and coffee. Beneath hay and horse shit. Between skin and the blade. Beneath the scabs- I am here!

Beneath the words, beyond the wisdom. Within the meaning and above the drama.

I am here.

Waiting for you.

Went On A Walkabout My Skull

July 24th, 2010

4

Oh, wow! It’s a post. Pretty, eh?

Sorry about my absence, not that I think too many people noticed, but I went off on a sort of walkabout through the reality of my life. It’s funny, people often stress the line between what they do online and what they do in the world beyond their screens but the more time I spend away from my computer- a compulsion of late, the more I realize I’m not doing much different than what I do at the end of my keyboard.

I write. Talk to writer buddies. Write. Read everything. Write. Give feedback when the anti-muse Mrs. Lazy isn’t whispering in my ear. Write. Play with my websites (okay, that might be strictly an internet thing). Write. Look up writerly events. Write. Get inspired. Write some more.

In short: I work on furthering my writing life. I immerse myself in what I love and the more time I spend out of the house chasing dreams the more I realize I really am going for it. I’m doing what I need to do no matter where I go to it. Still finding my way but it’s nice to be reminded that I can love something enough to let it permeate every aspect of my life.

Via my my mental walkabout I came to a few conclusions, some of course concerning this site. While this is my online journal I’ve decided I want to work towards displaying things more professionally. I’d like to use this place as a sort of portfolio for my free form ramblings. I have some damn good writing on here and I know it. Not always my best but you can’t know what’s really good till you see what’s really not.

Likewise, it’s still a journal and some of my thoughts aren’t things I’d want the people I want to find me reading. Hence, a few of my older posts are going to be password protected and a few future ones might end up that way as well but I promise, if anyone is interested in reading them they are quite easy to access if you just send me an email to get the global pass.

A lot of my really personal posts regarding PTSD, anxiety, and foster care will still be up though. I like writing about that for others to find. I want others going through the same thing to know they’re not alone.

More, I’m going to be more frequently updating the main part of Written Whispers soon. I’ve been writing the posts just not editing and putting them up because other obligations have been waiting for my attention.

Ask Me

June 25th, 2010

2

And what am I doing…

This blank bit of virtual paper is starring back at me asking that same question. It waits with a quiet persistence trapped so vividly in the nothing of infinite possibility. It know that- eventually, I will arrive at the answer.

Even if I myself don’t know it at the time.

My mind is filled with memories tonight. Little streams of thought that build and collect in the cracks of my everything. Dreams once dreamt long before I had a world to build them on, stories written in my soul before I could spell, and old energy burning in my bones- figments of a phantom feeling beyond all named sensations.

Little glimpses haunt me, calling me to know but staying just beyond my reach, thrumming with the same pull that tugs the tide high towards the moon and away again. It hurts like a single sip of water in the desert. I can’t control it. Can’t contain it. Can’t summon it at will.

But I can write it.

This beautiful story written with existence.

Expressed only by living.

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