Ravaged Blog Hop!

One of the things I love about writing is that it's introducing me to concepts that I've never experienced before. This is my first time participating in a "blog hop," where several writers are hosting interviews with other writers on their blogs.


Ravaged Blog Hop - 5 blogs, 10 authors, 10 copies to be won!

Welcome to the Ravaged Author Blog Hop

To celebrate the release of Ravaged this weekend, the authors have done a little Q&A hosted by five of the authors on their blogs. Starting Friday, August 3rd through Monday, August 6th, take a journey to see what brought the stories of this phantasmagorical anthology to light.

Each blog features two interviews, and if you comment you have a chance to win one of 10 PDF copies of Ravaged kindly donated by all the authors.

The blog links can be found below so please go and check out all the interviews.
Annabeth Leong

D.F. Krieger

Silvia Violet

SJ Thomas

Erin O'Riordan

I hope you enjoy these interviews as much as I enjoyed being a part of them. Thanks for reading!

So what's going on with me now?

As usual, I just realized I hadn't posted anything in a little more than a month. That's because my writing habits have gone completely out the window.

I realize it's a lot like exercise. Exercise is so much a part of me now that even if I quit my teaching job, I'd probably still feel the need to exercise just as often. However, if I were to stop for a period of time, say for vacation, I know how hard it would be to get going again. Even harder for someone who hasn't done a lot of exercising to begin with.

As far as writing is concerned, I'm a beginner. It hasn't become habit for me, like exercise has.

I'm in the middle of two stories at this time. And my "Encantado" story will soon be released as part of the Ravaged Anthology from Breathless Press. I got a check in the mail that reflected the royalties from an anthology published last year.

I think that was the kick in the pants I needed to plant these pants back in the chair. At least I have a more comfortable chair to sit in now than I did before.

I'm also considering maybe I need a change of venue. As in, different places to write, rather than this same desk over and over, day in and day out. Thinking of maybe getting addicted to coffee and hanging out in coffee houses.

Except I hate coffee. I guess it will have to be coco and smoothies.

I just have a hard time motivating myself to leave the house these days. When I do, it's to go teach. I love the formats that I teach, and I love the fantastic body I get from teaching all these classes. And the club has been updating the equipment, making the actual teaching more enjoyable.

I'm just so tired. July is the hardest month because I'm learning four new routines, teaching all my own classes, and subbing for a lot of instructors who go on vacation during the summer. At least now all the new releases are done, so I can stop practicing for a month. Sigh.

All that movement means that when I get home, all I want to do is space out in front of the TV, or play a video game that doesn't really involve a lot of thinking. When I sit down to write, I end up staring out the window for fifteen minutes instead, because I can't string any coherent thoughts together.

But this month is almost over. I knew back in May that this was going to be a hard one, and it was.

I just have to remind myself of this in January when everything is dead and boring.

Tripawed Adventures: Six months later ...

I haven't posted on my little tripawed kitty's recovery and adjustment because she'd been doing so well, there was nothing really to say. She's almost completely the same as she used to be, with the exception of the fact that she can no longer move stealthily like cats do. She sounds more like an elephant wearing snowshoes. I can usually hear her from anywhere in the house.

For a while, I even stopped giving her the ES Clear. This was because she doesn't eat much canned food, and I can't put it on the dry, since she eats so randomly. Also, the other two fat cats mob me whenever they hear the refrigerator open because they know it means good stuff is coming out. It's hard to separate Asuka enough so that she will actually eat the food with the drops on it. And she does NOT tolerate having the drops put in her mouth with the dropper.

Everything was going well. She was healthy and happy.

Until I discovered a new lump where her shoulder used to be.

As with the last time, this tumor didn't seem to bother her any. Nor did her health seem off in any way. But knowing what we know now, I decided to take her to the vet to see what he thought.

He told me honestly that if it were his cat, he'd do the surgery to remove the tumor. She's healthy, and removing the tumor could help her stay that way. Since he had a week off, he told me to take the time to think about it.

The tumor had popped up pretty quickly. I check her almost every day. I thought to myself, if there's a possibility that this is her last year with us, I want to do whatever I can to make her happy. I told my husband that I wish animals could tell us what they want.

That night, hubby had a dream that Asuka was talking. All he could remember was that she said she wanted to have fun.

So I dug out her old collar, put it on her, and let her go outside.

She's always trying to get outside once the weather warms up. She yowls at the door, begging for the chance. So I figured I'd let her do that on the days that I don't go anywhere, so I could be there to let her back in the moment she wants to. (The collar is to let the neighbors know that she has a home.)

I also started her back on the ES Clear. If there's a possibility this could improve her situation to the point that the tumors don't come back, I'm willing to put up with the hassle. At least she seems interested in the canned food now, though I can't usually get her to eat it more than once a day.

So today she went back to the vet to have the lump removed.

She's got a row of staples running along her neck and shoulder area. The vet said he got as much of it as he could, and also removed a couple of much smaller tumors in her neck. He took very little muscle tissue in the process. He seemed very satisfied about the results.

The funniest part is that last time we brought her home, I thought she'd want to be downstairs by the fire, since it was December. She proved me wrong by running upstairs and hiding. So I thought this time I'd take her upstairs so she could hide. Ten minutes later, she came down the stairs (very wobbly and slowly) to sit by the heater.

She's a very contrary kitty. I don't even try to predict anything with her anymore. :)

Tonight I brought home a can of tuna to see if she'd be interested in it. After sitting by the heat for a while earlier in the evening, she threw up a couple of times and seemed way out of it still, so I took her back upstairs and blocked the stairs with the ironing board. I offered her the tuna water with some flakes of tuna floating in it.

Once again, tuna water saves my sanity. She drank most of it and nibbled some tuna as well.

And just a few minutes ago, as I sat here at the computer, she suddenly hopped into my lap, scaring the beejeezus out of me. I didn't even hear her coming this time!

For all that she's acting drunk as a skunk, she still seems very healthy. She's behaving just like herself, albeit a more wobbly version. I have the feeling she's going to be sleeping on top of me tonight.

And that makes me a very happy girl.

My TSA Experience

Pardon me while I brush the dust off my soap box. I try not to use it and abuse it too often.

>cough, cough<

Okay.

As you can probably tell from the title of my blog, I live in Alaska. The only family I have here is my husband. Everyone else in our family lives in the Lower 48. I travel to visit them as often as I can, which isn't very often.

Main method of traveling: commercial plane, of course.

Let me attempt to sum up the other ways of traveling to the Lower 48. You can drive through Canada, but of course they have their own rules, which makes it very difficult to protect yourself with your weapon of choice. Depending on how much time you spend driving each day, it would take at least four days, probably more (maybe less if you drive like a zombie) to get to California. Unless you want to sleep at rest stops or the side of the road, you'll need money to stay in hotels. And this is just one way. You'd double that to come back to Alaska the same way.

Gas alone for a round trip like that would be about $1,000.

You could drive part of the way and do part on the ferries. I looked at the cost for a ferry from Whittier (a couple hours drive from where I live) to Bellingham, Washington (I think that was the place). For a round trip with your car, it would cost over $2,000, and that doesn't include sleeping accommodations. You would camp on the deck or sleep in your car. Google Maps suggests doing three ferries, taking you to Juneau, and then to Washington. I didn't look at the cost of this collectively, but it sure doesn't save any time. Also, you are at the mercy of the ferry launch dates, which are extremely limited.

In other words, this is more like booking a cruise vacation, something that you do once in a great while when you've saved up the money. Not the little week-long jaunts I do once or twice a year to see the fam.

I haven't done much research on private planes, but I hear from other people that they're just as pricey, that you have to put a lot of trust in a pilot that you don't know, and that you can't take much with you. (Anyone with experience in this area, please feel free to comment, as I am still researching the cost effectiveness of travel methods out of Alaska.)

Also, getting my own pilot's license is out of the question. :)

That pretty much leaves you with commercial flying as the most cost effective and fastest method of travel to and from Alaska. Especially if you use credit card award miles most of the time, like I do.

I had no issue with flying until recently. I don't like it, to be sure. I'm a Taurus; I prefer my feet planted on the Earth and my nose in the grass. I get migraines easily, so I have to drink a lot of water. I try to sit at a window seat because I develop rashes under my arms when I'm stuck in the middle (due to my nervous sweating). I've had some of the worst seat mates, like the drunk guy trying to pick a fight with the guy on my other side. (I'm pretty sure there's a blog post on that one somewhere.)

Security is annoying, but I was always prepared and swept right through without a problem. The agents love my karate moose that travels with me.

So before, I would have said commercial flight was tolerable.

Here's what happened to me last month to change that.

Ted Stevens International Airport in Anchorage has acquired the new body scanners. I don't know which ones they are specifically, whether they take nude photos or the generic ones. My heart sank as soon as I saw it. I'd done some research on the subject when the uproar started. As far as I'm concerned, there isn't enough evidence to support the idea that these things are safe. When doctors say they won't go through them, I find this rather damning. Of course TSA isn't going to say anything bad about them. If they admitted anything, no one would tolerate their use.

Take the anecdote that someone related to me recently: when the police started using scan guns to clock speeders, there was a jump in testicular cancer because the officers were putting the "safe" scan guns in their laps.

How about the fact that certain foods are concluded to be safe, then not, then safe again? Do we humans really know that much about something that hasn't been tested for long periods of time?

Here's the trump for me. Forget about whether it's healthy for the individual going through once or twice a year, like me. What about the people that work around these things for full shifts, day in and day out? Have the scanners been tested for the long term health of the TSA agents themselves?

Anyway, I decided it wasn't worth it to me to go through it. And they were sending EVERYONE through it that evening. It wasn't random selection. Maybe it was because there weren't as many people traveling that evening. I don't know.

I opted out.

The gentleman called "Female opt out," and had me stand aside. One traveler got confused when she saw me standing there, thinking she was waiting in line behind me. Other than that, I don't know if anyone else noticed my choice to opt out.

The supervisor was the lady on duty at that time and she walked me over to the pat down area. I was keeping an eye on my stuff and she kept stopping behind me. She mentioned that she had to stay behind me, and I said, "As long as I can see my stuff." She agreed, and my stuff was brought over to a spot within my sight.

Before she got started, I was already shaking. I had prayed that I would never be put through this, but I needed to see it through. I've never been selected for a random pat down, so I had no idea (other than the horror stories) what to expect. But I figured it was my duty to at least see if it was as bad as others say it is.

I informed her that I was very nervous, that I'd never done this before, that I have issues with the body scanners (including worry for her own health). She gave me the TSA spiel about the radiation being less than our cell phones.

I was wearing my fitness instructor outfit: tight sleeveless top with built-in bra, tight black capris that leave no possibility of anything hidden inside, and no pockets of any kind. It was quite clear to anyone looking at me that I carried nothing hidden, unless it was up in my hoo-hoo.

I informed the agent that I was a martial artist trained in self defense for sixteen years, that I was a woman traveling alone, and that I had serious issues with getting touched by strangers on my crotch and my breasts. She told me, in very friendly and polite tones, that if I refused the pat down, I would be escorted out of the airport.

Not that I would be allowed to just take my stuff and leave. But that I would have to be escorted out of the building like a criminal.

She promised to tell me everything she was going to do before she did it, which she did. She started with my hair, down the back of my neck. She used the back of her hands to glide over my bottom.

Then she said that she was going to slide her hands up my leg until she reached "torso resistance." Those were the words she used. As she slid up, one of her gloved fingers caught on the fabric of my pants, which made her hands come up too fast. She bumped me right on the sensitive spot of my groin.

My knee came up.

It was a good thing I had warned her about my training, because I did not hit the agent. She was ready for movements like that. What if I had said nothing, and then kneed her in the face? I would have been hauled off to jail for "assault."

But she apologized, and continued on. There were no further incidents from that point on, but the damage had been done. It took all I had not to burst into tears. I saved it for the bathroom, where I pummeled the stall door in anger.

She managed not to touch my groin on the other leg. And she also managed not to touch my breasts when she cupped her hands under them. She thanked me for my cooperation, and I thanked her for her understanding.

Now I've had plenty of time to reflect. My experience was actually decent compared to what has happened to others. But why was it decent for me?

I lucked out and got a decent human being for an agent, first of all. We understood each other. And while I think she should reconsider her choice of profession, at least she did her job in the best possible way. I don't know if she shared any of my views, but she knew I was very upset being put in the situation.

I am a very thin girl. I have almost nothing in the bosom department. It was very easy for someone to pat down without touching something on me.

But think about that phrase, torso resistance. That means EVERY man that goes through is going to get touched on the junk. Every woman that isn't as skinny as me is going to get touched in the sensitive place. Any woman with a bra size bigger than mine is going to get fondled. Anyone wearing baggy clothes, or adult diapers, or with medical issues is going to get groped.

And I got a NICE person. I've heard about others who power trip, who harass travelers because they have a "badge," who steal stuff because they can get away with it. I saw a little of it myself at the Anchorage airport, as a few of the agents behaved as if they wished they had cattle prods in their hands.

I can't even imagine what it must mean for people who have been sexually traumatized in some way. The very idea makes me sad. And very angry.

Now compare this to my return trip from the Sacramento, California airport. They now have the body scanners as well. But because this was a much busier time I was flying (I assume that was the reason), only a few random individuals were sent through the body scanners. I was not, so I did not even get the chance to opt out and see if my experience would be different there. I did the usual removal of the shoes, putting my stuff in the buckets, and walked through the metal detector without any issue and went on my merry way in seconds. Just like I always used to.

So what is someone in my position to do? If I want to take a stand and refuse to fly, I'm severely limited in my choices if I want to see my family. Basically, I would need roughly three weeks in order to spend a week with my family if I choose to drive. And I would have to spend twice, maybe three times as much to do so, not to mention the money I would lose taking the time off.

And what if I opt out of the scanner and get an agent who is not polite, who does a full on grope instead of an accidental bump? I'm trained to prevent this kind of treatment. Parents tell their children not to let anyone touch their private parts. Why is this any different? I don't know these people. I didn't do a background check on them.

Will it take a slew of cancer to show the dangers of body scanners? And who says any terrorist will get caught in the first place? Drug smugglers were getting through with TSA assistance. All it takes is for one to get hired that's willing to help them.

Some people would say, "Well, why don't you move?" Those people don't understand what that would take. That is not a cheap option either, not if you want to keep all your stuff and your cars. And I feel that the economy is worse in the Lower 48 than it is here. Why would we want to move? Why should we move just because we want to avoid plane travel?

There have been so many articles about pat down horrors, about ways to get stuff through the body scanners without being detected, and health issues, and TSA corruption and incompetence. All I can really say is, "Do your own research." See what you can find on your own. Don't listen to the TSA, and don't listen to only one or two individuals like me.

For myself, that line has been crossed. I can't just blindly go along with whatever someone orders me to do in the name of safety that actually isn't safer.

For those in Alaska, I found this group: Alaskans Freedom to Travel USA.
http://akfreedomtotravelusa.org/
They tweet a lot of articles about the TSA, so they are a useful reference to get you started.

This is a very important issue for Alaskans because our travel to the rest of the nation is so limited. There is so much more that I could say about the subject, but it would fill a book. Just remember that we only really know what we're told by others. So try to hear as many different voices on the subject as you can, and see what the majority is saying before you make your own decision.

Okay, time to put my soap box back in the closet.

The Bliss Found in NOT Writing

Holy Mary, Mother of Meatballs. Didn't realize it has been a full two months since the last time I posted. Apparently I needed a good long break from writing. And boy howdy, did I take a break!

I've hardly written a thing since March. I started a story, but haven't finished it. I just reached a point where I didn't have the energy or the desire. My brain wanted to move on to other things I had neglected, such as playing guitar and making mini teddy bears. I had new routines to learn, which means practicing and teaching, which means lots of exercise. Lots. It really is impossible to do all the things we want to and need to in the time we have as humans.

So I decided a guilt-free break was in order. Much as it killed me to fall behind two months in Write 1 Sub 1, I felt I needed to give over to this desire to do things other than write.

Some writers give excuses for this. I noticed writer's block is a common one.

No excuse for me. I simply ... didn't want to write.

I can hear other writers howling at this statement. They would tell me, "That means you really don't want to make it in the writing business!"

In a way, they're right. I don't. Well, not in the traditional sense of being the next J. K. Rowling or Stephanie Meyer. I don't have those kinds of unrealistic aspirations.

All I want to do is entertain people. I like to sing, dance, write, make gifts that delight the receivers. If I become famous and rich while doing such things, all right then. I'll accept that.

But I don't expect it in any way, shape, or form.

And who knows? Maybe in a few years I'll look back on this entry and do some howling myself. "What was I thinking? Why, oh, why didn't I just plunk my butt in the chair and apply my fingers to the keyboard every single day like I did most of 2011?"

Well, here's one reason:

I made this little guy during that time. :)

Last year was intense. Doing Write 1 Sub 1, I think I produced more in that year than in all the other years combined that I've ever written something. I was full steam ahead, and I got twelve stories published, something I never dreamed would actually happen.

And then I crashed. My steam turned into a dribble of water. And that, too, dried up.

I admit, part of it might have to do with the next blog post I'm going to write about. I've been avoiding it because I was so angry about what happened, I couldn't think about it and not have my blood pressure rise.

I'm ready now to write about it, and so with a deep breath, I leap back into the writing fray. I will do my best to lay out all the facts and not put a fiction writer's spin on it to make it more interesting.

After all, sometimes truth is stranger than fiction, yes? ;)

Tripawed Adventures: Being Held

Of course, for the first part of her healing process after the surgery, Asuka did not like being held much. And truth be told, it was easier to pick her up and hold her when she had the huge, stiff wrap around her because it gave me something to stabilize her body with.

So the first few times picking her up after the wrap came off were challenging. I was used to hooking my fingers around both her front legs and scooping her up, but I quickly realized that wasn't going to work anymore. And she yowled at first because everything was raw and sore. (I know, I state the obvious, but this is part of the learning process, living with a newly tripawed kitty.)

Now her scars are healed up and the crusty stuff has fallen off. Her fur is nearly grown back in as well, making the surgery scar even less obvious. And she no longer yowls when I pick her up. She's beginning to like being held once more. One of her favorite things to do before was to stretch herself out while hanging over my shoulder. She's beginning to figure out how to leverage herself so that she can do a variation of that stretch. Asuka is very trusting and literally drapes her body over my shoulder when she feels stable enough.

She also no longer minds the surgery site being petted. This is nice because I can pet her whole body now, rather than skimming by the sore areas.

It's difficult to tell if the ES Clear is helping her all that much. Asuka behaves as normally now as she did before (with adjustments). She even caught a shrew a few weeks ago! And she played with it by tossing it in the air, just like before. She's not as skinny because I've been giving her an extra feeding of canned food with the ES Clear drops on it. I discovered she does not care for the canned food that looks like small cubes of meat in stew. She just licks all the stew off and leaves the cubes. So I have to mash it all up before she'll consider eating it. Never knew she was that picky!

She has adapted to the missing front leg much better than I hoped, and she seems to be completely healed. I pray that we caught it in time, and that she lives a long, happy, healthy tripawed life. So mote it be. :)

Weird Weather, First 2012 Acceptance, and Tripawed Update!

The weather has been so strange. Tons of snow in December, negative twenty degree temperatures most of January, and now mostly mid thirties and raining this month! Everything is slick and dangerous out there, and the snow has been sliding off the roof in big chunks. The snow is now piled higher than the edge of the deck around the front of the cabin. I'm wondering what the weather has up its sleeve for next month.

On second thought, maybe I don't want to know.

I've received my first acceptance of 2012! It's the second story I wrote this year for Write 1 Sub 1, and It'll be my second publication with this publisher, the first being "Bordello Secrets." So yes, Mom, before you ask, it is erotica and it's even more explicit than "Bordello Secrets" is. (Heat rating of 3 vs Heat rating of 2.)

Asuka, my Tripawed Adventurer, has been doing very well. Her scars are healing up and her fur is growing back. She has caught one shrew, and she spends a lot of time sleeping in her favorite chair upstairs. She is very affectionate these days, but less inclined to sleep on me as she was before. I'm still giving her the ES Clear, two-three drops a day, even though the directions say twice a day. It's hard to get her to eat canned food more than once a day. For one thing, she has access to dry food whenever she wants. And also, she doesn't want to eat when the other two cats try to mob her to get a taste. And as soon as they hear me opening the can, the other two are right there begging for it. So it's difficult to find a place where Asuka can and will eat in peace.


Don't hate me because I'm beautiful.

She goes up and down stairs in complete ease. The only time I've seen her falter was the time Daisy swatted at her from under the bottom stairs and she nearly fell off, but she saved herself. Sometimes she doesn't cover up her stuff in the litter box. But then again, neither does Dusty.

All in all, she seems to be just dandy. It's such a relief to see her happy and purring.