Writerly/Readerly Updates

Typing Is Annoying

Tell Me What To Write

Hello, hello! How’s everyone doing this lovely Wednesday? Things here are okay. I finally have the desire to write again, but I can’t decide what I want to work on. Short stories have been going nowhere for me, so something novel length. But do I want to start something completely new? Edit something that’s been sitting in the metaphorical drawer for years because it needs a complete rewrite and I’m lazy? Or untrunk Bailey now that I’ve got some distance from her and see if I can rework her using some new techniques? So, I thought I would list some descriptions here and let you all vote for what I should attempt next.

1. Garnets and Guardians (this one has been shopped to agents, so it actually has a blurb, but I’ve learned new editing and plotting techniques that might help improve it/make it marketable)

Sometimes, the voices in your head really are out to get you.

Bailey Donovan is a thirteen-year-old who has recently been diagnosed with a life-changing disease: Limb-Girdle Muscular Dystrophy.  On top of that, she is forced to move to a small north Texas town to be close to a hospital that specializes in these types of diseases.

Despite all the changes being thrown her way, Bailey remains stoic.  A little too stoic for her mother who encourages her to express emotions Bailey would rather keep to herself.

After a series of increasingly strange events including a psychic waiter, her grandmother’s fairytales, and a psychotic dentist, Bailey finds herself stuck in therapy with the headache-inducing psychologist, Alice Parker.

As if all of this isn’t bad enough, Bailey stumbles upon the hospital’s dirty little secret: it’s built on a doorway to Hell and many of the town’s residents are actually demons.  This throws her further into chaos and raises questions about her origins and a possible intruder in her head that only her grandmother can seem to answer.  Follow Bailey into the abyss as she juggles family life, new emotions, physical challenges, and dark secrets.

2. The Last Rider (this one needs a complete rewrite because the plotting is off, so it’s got a first draft but has never seen the light of day)

Ky Reinholdt is an average, if somewhat of a loner, teen in a small town in far west Texas.  He’s a klutz, with no friends, who works in his dad’s diner and rebuilds things in a small shack out back when he’s not blowing up the chem. lab at school (it was an accident!).  Life is quiet and mostly peaceful until someone tries to kill him.  From that day on, he’s dragged into a world of secrets and war where everyone seems to know his name.  To top it all off, a creepy dude Ky meets in the school basement refuses to leave his side and doesn’t know the meaning of personal space.  Can Ky survive until his 18th birthday?  And what happens then?

3. Unnamed Cozy Mystery (this one is brand new and not completely plotted, but has a solid enough premise that it excites me and I could probably plot it out enough to start writing soon)

Cozy mystery about an older woman who drops everything to move to the country and open a small hotel. Twist, she sees/interacts with ghosts. She can’t open the hotel until she finds out what happened to a young girl on the property. But I haven’t decided on the reason for the big life change. And I’m not sure when I want it set. Modern day would be easiest research wise, but something older might be fun. I know the killer, but I don’t know the why yet.

So, what should I work on next? Vote below. And feel free to comment here or on my social media pages with your thoughts and ideas!

Friendly Stories

Howdy, howdy! How’s everything going this lovely Wednesday? Did you have a good week? Things here are okay. I’m currently trapped in my room with Mardi. She thinks it’s cruel and unusual punishment and is making her indignation known through alternating bouts of high pitched yelping, whining like she’s all alone in the world, and silent sulking punctuated with deep angsty sighs. Why is she locked up with me? Because there are people doing things in the house and we don’t want her underfoot, bothering them. No biggie. But she’s not a happy puppers and my presence means absolutely nothing in this situation. Ah well. Anyway, I spent all day Monday trying to come up with a blog post idea. Nothing. So, I put out a plea for ideas on Facebook and Jen (lil sis) sent me a bunch of ideas! The first thing she wanted to know was what type of story I would write my friends into. So, I’ll ramble about that today.

It should be “The people they know” actually.

To be honest, if we’re friends, you’re probably already in a story. At least partially. I’ve used your nicknames or personality traits or quirks or some part of your looks. I’ve probably mashed your bits together with those of other people I know. Kinky. But, anyway. I’ve most likely trapped a piece of you inside a story. Creepy, right?

As far as the type of story goes, it’s my usual fare. Horror, dark fantasy, mysteries. Sometimes you live and sometimes you die. I don’t actively decide which bits of who go into which characters. It’s not until after the fact that I notice stuff like that. And by then, the character is its own entity with only a vague resemblance to the people I know. I will say that you all usually end up in characters that I like, so if they die, I’m sad. But I love my villains, so I don’t know how comforting that really is. Probably not at all. Sorry!

Now, if I actively chose a story to put a friend into, I’d have to think about where they would fit and what kind of story would make them happy. Unless I’m mad at them, then it would be what kind of story makes me happy. But I digress. Let’s take Jen for example. Most likely a novel or even a series. A main character, because she deserves some attention, and definitely a happy ending. No horror or psychological thriller. Some kind of action fantasy, probably. A found family type of subplot. Also a romance thread, but not something super important to the story. Some kind of magical powers that take time to manifest and grow along with her emotional growth throughout the story. And, since it’s Jen, I would include her in building the story and world and characters. So basically, if I actively built stories for friends, they’d end up being personalized. That’s fun.

So, yeah. I do include people in my stories, all genres. Kind of. But I can’t do it knowingly unless I tailor a story to a person. What about you? What kind of stories do you write the people you know into? Are you aware when you do it or does it just kind of happen? As always, feel free to share your thoughts and comments here or on my social media pages!

March Is Here

Hello, hello! How’s everyone doing this lovely Wednesday? Things here are okay. There’s some old lady neighbor drama going on, but things will eventually work out. Other than that, there’s not much going on. It’s late as I’m writing this because I procrastinated, so it’ll probably be a short post again. I haven’t made a goals post in a while, so I think I’m going to do that. These are just March goals. I’m not planning too far ahead because I’ve been really bad about keeping goals anyway, so what’s the point? Fingers crossed I can at least keep up with this stuff.

1. Write 4,000 words a week. Since the beginning of the year, I’ve met this goal five weeks out of eight. I need to buckle down and stick with it, but I’m lazy and haven’t really found the desire to keep up with it. It’s a me thing. I know. I’m enjoying the story and know where it’s going. When I do force myself to write, it’s not particularly hard and the distractions are minimal. So, it’s not that I need to switch projects. I just need to focus and find the reason I write again.

2. Read at least two books. I’ve already read seven this year, so I don’t foresee any problems meeting this goal. And only one of those was a book of poetry, so no… I’m not reading super short things and counting them. Though I do have a couple of novellas lined up for this year. But I also have a couple of 500+ page novels on my shelf. My reading varies. A lot.

3. Submit DS1 to another publisher. It’s been a couple of months since my last kindly worded rejection, so I should probably get it back out there. I still have a couple of places I want to try before I decide whether or not to trunk this one too.

4. Keep up with my miscellaneous stuff. Write blog posts. Post on my author profiles. Order groceries as needed. Try not to forget little things that pop up. Text people. The usual stuff that I do between mindless games and crossword puzzles.

That’s all, really. I was going to include socializing more, but I honestly just don’t want to. I’d rather listen to loud music. Don’t get me wrong. I love my peoples. But I prefer hermitting right now. Anyway, what are your goals for March? As always, feel free to share your comments and questions here or on my social media pages!

BooHoo

Hello, hello! How’s everyone doing this chilly first of February? I’m okay. I broke my writing streak on the 30th because who wants to write when it’s freezing and gloomy and you could be watching TV instead? I don’t even want to be writing this, but I am. But I proved to myself I could stick to a writing schedule if I wanted, so I’ll probably go back to my usual schedule next week (4 days of 1,000+ words, the blog day, and two days off a week). I haven’t decided about the rest of this week yet. But we’re here to finish off the number thing. This week’s prompt was chosen by Scotty, who sometimes stalks the blog. We’ve covered 13 (you can find the prompt list there), 728310614, and 11. And today, the prompt is “Tell me which book has made you cry more than any other book has.” This is a weirdly hard question.

I don’t remember being super emotional about books (or anything) when I was younger, mostly because I didn’t like explaining why I was crying if I got caught and would usually piss off whoever caught me because I would be like “it’s nothing” and apparently that was the worst possible answer. It was weird. I was weird. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve become a sympathetic crier, especially if it’s a dude. TV, books, movies, whatever. If a character cries, I get misty. If a character I really like cries, I flat out cry too. I hate it. It was much more preferable when nothing affected me. I’m basically growing up to be a girl and nobody wants that (yes, I know that joke was sexist and I’m all for healthy emotional responses in both men and women, just not myself). Anyway, all this is to say that it was probably a book I read in the last ten years, but I’ll be damned if I can remember which one.

I’ve spent far too much time thinking about this one since it was chosen and I’m still coming up blank. Even with manga. The closest I can come to an answer is a Facebook post from August 13, 2017: “Might’ve spent three hours finishing reading a book today. There were probably tears. Strong, manly tears. Definitely not an ugly cry. Okay, maybe a little ugly.” It was about The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater. I don’t even remember why it made me ugly cry. But apparently it did. That’s probably why it still ranks among my favorites. So, since it was Facebook worthy, I’m just going to make believe this is the answer.

And this is going to be a short post because I can’t think of any other books to ramble about. Anime, though. Definitely Fullmetal Alchemist. There are two particularly traumatic scenes that get me every time. If you’ve seen it, you know what they are. Anyway, what books made you cry? As always, feel free to leave your comments or questions here or on my social media pages!

Bonus pic of our icy backyard:

A Book For Bed

Hello, hello! How’s everyone doing this fine Wednesday? Things are going okay here. I recently crossed the 10,000 words mark on the current novel attempt. I’m still writing at least a little every day. Meeting my goals. Fingers crossed I can keep it up. But anyway! Today, we’re doing another number thing. The lovely Melinda chose number 11. I’ve done 13 (you can find the prompt list there), 7283106, and 14. Only have number 1 left for February first unless someone wants to pick one of the remaining prompts. Feel free. This week’s prompt is “Tell me which book is the best to read while curled up in bed.” Uh, wait…

I was going to say that I don’t read in bed, but that’s not entirely true. There are times when I can’t sleep that I get Alexa to read to me. I’m too cheap to buy audiobooks, mostly because I prefer to actually read things (I just don’t retain things as well when I only hear them). But most Kindle books have an accessibility feature that lets Alexa devices read them aloud. It’s not perfect and she can’t read words different ways based on context (for example, tear is always pronounced like a rip even though it should be an eye raindrop), but it works well enough for the amount I use it.

Like I said, I can’t retain details well by just hearing them. I’m very much a visual learner. Show me something once and I’ve got it. Write the instructions down and I can figure it out. Tell me how to do it without the thing right in front of me and expect me to do it later… nah. I get distracted too easily without something to focus my eyes on. So, the only times I really listen to books in bed is when I’m close to some kind of action and super into it so I know I’ll focus OR when I’m annoyed/bored with a book and don’t want to waste time reading it but also don’t want to give it up. It’s usually the latter.

The latest book I read in bed was Lord of Silver Ashes by Kellen Graves. I bought the first book of the series without realizing it was self-published (not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I usually do a quality check before I buy self-published things). The story was fun and I liked the characters, but the editing was absolute shit (and yes, they claimed they had an editor). So many continuity errors and typos and the em dashes… just stop. But I decided to give the second book a shot because I liked the premise. I shouldn’t have. It was even worse with glaring continuity errors that made the big reveals absolutely useless. Like… we knew that in the last book so why are you freaking out now? Anyway, I gave up half through and had Alexa read it to me. It helped make it more enjoyable not having to see all the errors, so I might try book three when it comes out. I’m invested and kind of a masochist, I guess. Blargh.

I also vaguely remember A Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder by Joanne Fluke. It wasn’t bad, but there were so many words. It was dense and slow and I was only reading it for one of those stupid Kindle reading challenges, so I gave up a few chapters in and let Alexa read the rest a couple of chapters at a time when I couldn’t sleep. I admit it’s a good way to get sleepy. Listening to boring books.

So, I guess I do read in bed, but it’s usually because I’m not enjoying something about a book. Is that weird? What do you read in bed? As always, feel free to leave your thoughts or questions here or on my social media pages!

Couldn’t Stop

Hello, hello! It’s 2023! How’s it going so far? I’ve started a new writing schedule, working on a new novel. So far, so good. It’s only been three days and two of them were “easy”, but I’ve written each day. It’s better than what I was doing (nothing). We’ll see how long it lasts. Anyway, we’re here so I can ramble about another number thing. In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve covered 13 (you can find the prompt list there), 7, 2, 8, 3, 10, and 6. Today is 14, courtesy of the fabulous Cecilia. And I’ve got 11 and 1 left to do before I have to start thinking of my own randomness again. Today’s prompt is “Tell me which book you read without being able to put down.” Uh…

First instinct was to rattle off the usual suspects: anything Rainbow Rowell, The Scorpio Races, etc. But I figured you’re tired of hearing about them, so let’s see what else I can think of. I vaguely remember finishing The Stand by Stephen King in less than a week. Granted, I was young and much faster at reading than I am now, but I took that book to the hospital with me, so I must not have been able to quit it. I binged a lot of Stephen King as a teen, though. Harry Potter and LotR as well.

More recently was the Daughter of Smoke and Bone trilogy by Laini Taylor. Those books were so good and I made it through all three in about a month. I was so happy when I found out I didn’t have to wait for new releases, but then I was sad that I finished them so quickly. Same thing happened with the Folk of the Air books by Holly Black, but at least she’s still releasing stuff related to the books. Just got my copy of The Stolen Heir and am only putting off reading it because I can’t handle more than three books at a time (yes, somehow I ended up reading three books right now). But I’m expecting it to be my next “can’t put down” book.

I’m trying to think of ones that took me by surprise. Ones that I started reading and they were just kind of meh, but at some point and for some reason, I ended up getting sucked in. I suppose Bright Ruined Things by Samantha Cohoe counts. It was one of my review books, so I had the reading schedule all planned out, but eventually found myself reading extra chapters until one day I decided to just binge the rest. I was unsatisfied with the ending, which I still randomly think about, but getting there was nice. Another was So This is Ever After by F.T. Lukens. I knew going in that it was going to be super predictable and I’d probably only read a little bit at a time, but it turned out to be so adorable that I couldn’t stop. I also did that with In Deeper Waters (same author). I kind of can’t wait to see what books surprise me this year.

What books have you read that you couldn’t put down? I need suggestions of things to read. Help a chick out. As always, feel free to leave your thoughts or comments or questions here or on my social media pages!

Whispering Wind: A Short Story

Hello, hello! How’s everyone doing this fine Wednesday? Things are normal here. I couldn’t think of anything to blog about, so I dug through some of my old writing assignments and decided to post one from my Intermediate Fiction class at SMU. It’s from 2010. I haven’t revised it since then or even read through it to see if it’s worth posting. I vaguely remember the premise. Sorry in advance if it sucks, but at least you get to see how I’ve grown as a writer if you’ve read my recent stuff! It’s just under 2,000 words, so it’s not too long. As always, feel free to leave your thoughts or comments here or on my social media pages.

Whispering Wind

It was a crisp autumn afternoon and the sun was shining brightly through the leaves of the trees that surrounded the pond.  Just visible through the trees was a wrought-iron fence that encircled the water and the sea of markers, some simple and others ornate, that named the ones sleeping beneath them.  The gravestones stopped near the edge of the pond; about halfway between the last markers and the water, a little girl sat in the sun where the grass was green.

Though alone, the girl was laughing and smiling and talking away.  As the shadow of a cloud passed over her, the girl looked up and asked, “Are you happy?”

The only response was a breeze that rustled the leaves of the nearby trees.  The leaves shone like jewels in the sunshine and the girl smiled.  She sat quietly for a few moments and stretched her arms towards the sky.

“Do you love us bunches?”

A ripple in the pond made the sunlight dance over its surface.  The girl stared out over the pond in awe, her bright green eyes sparkling.  She broke out in laughter and clapped.

“Yay!  I love you too!”  She paused as her laughter died and continued to stare over the water.  “Hey… do you miss us?”

A gust played with the ruffles of her black dress and caused her long, auburn hair to drift across her face.  Two leaves, one gold, the other reddish-orange, swirled around her as the wind died; they settled softly on her lap.  The girl smiled and picked up the leaves by the stems.  “I miss you too…”

The girl’s conversation continued for awhile as she described the events of the past few days to her unseen companion.  She explained that everyone had been sad and that they had tried to hide their tears from her… that she didn’t understand why everyone was sad when they told her that Heaven was a happy place.  She giggled as she talked about her puppy, Mickey, and how cute he looked when she put her dolly’s hat on him.  As she talked, she would occasionally hold the leaves out in front of her as far as her arms would stretch and smile.  Each transition in her conversation was acknowledged by a light wind, a rustle of leaves, or a ripple of the water.

A tall woman in a black pantsuit approached the girl and knelt nearby.  A breeze blew the woman’s reddish-brown hair across her face, and as she brushed it back, an older version of the girl’s smile and bow lips appeared.  The woman stretched out her arms and said, “Come ‘ere booger bear… what’re you up to?”

The girl got up, careful not to drop the leaves, and ran to the woman.

“Mommy!  Lookie… I got a present!”  She held the leaves up so that her mother could see them clearly.  “This one’s for you, though…”  She held out the gold leaf so that the woman could take it.

Taking the leaf, the woman asked, “Where’d you get these?  They’re very pretty.”

“From daddy.”

The girl said this so matter-of-factly that a frown flickered across the woman’s face.  “From daddy?”

“Yup… he misses me and you, mommy… but it’s still okay because he’s happy and he loves us bunches.”  The girl wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck and hugged her tightly.

“I see… but… it’s time to say bye-bye to daddy.”  The woman hugged the girl close, tears glistening in her eyes.  She kissed the girl’s forehead and, as soon as she was sure that she wouldn’t cry, she rose and shifted the girl to her hip.

They each held their leaf securely as the woman carried the girl towards a group that surrounded the newest stone marker.  As they approached, the people separated, revealing a few rows of chairs, a dark casket, and a picture of a man in his early thirties with the same vibrant green eyes as the girl’s.  The woman sat close to the picture and cradled the girl in her lap.  The others gathered, some sitting and others choosing to stand, and the pastor took his place next to the casket.

As the man with the white collar spoke, the girl stared at the picture next to her.  She remembered that every Sunday he would make waffles for her and her mother and he would give her extra syrup… she remembered the day that he brought Mickey home for her and how cute Mickey was with the red bow around his neck… and she remembered the bedtime stories that he told her.  She also remembered getting in trouble for running out in the street… and she remembered getting sent to time-out for not listening to him and her mother when they told her that it was time to turn off the TV.  The memories flooded through her mind but one stuck out to her.

It was a stormy night a few months ago and she couldn’t sleep.  She had picked up Mickey and had gone to the study where there was still a light on.  As she peeked through the half-opened door, Mickey whined softly and she squeezed through the opening.  “Daddy… Mickey’s scared…”

The man behind the oak desk looked up and smiled.  He stood and moved to the sofa, beckoning her to him.  “Well, what’s wrong with Mickey, booger bear?”

“He doesn’t like the angry rain… it scares him so he can’t sleep…”

“So he’s scared of the thunder and lightning, huh?  Well, let’s see what we can do about that.  Do you want to sleep in here?”

“Yes, please!”  The girl smiled and held the puppy out to her father.

The man took the puppy so that she could climb onto the sofa.  After she stretched out, he set the puppy in her lap and took the quilt that was lying over the back of the sofa and tucked it around the girl and the puppy.  The man kissed the girl’s forehead and nuzzled her nose with his.  “That better?”

The girl nodded and grinned.  “Hey daddy…”

“Yes, booger bear?”

“Will you sing the song?”

The man chuckled and poked her nose.  “Anything for you.”

He went to his desk and pulled the chair around next to the sofa.  As he sat down, he began to hum her favorite tune and was soon singing “Hush a bye… don’t you cry… go to sleep my little baby… when you wake… you shall find… all the pretty little ponies…”  She had fallen asleep before he could sing anymore but she had felt the gentle pressure of a kiss on her forehead.

A moist drop on her cheek had brought her out of her memories and when she looked up she saw that her mother was crying.  The casket was being lowered into the ground and her mother helped the girl off her lap, standing next to her.  As they approached the grave, the girl looked up at her mother then at the leaf in her hand.  Her mother had told her that she was supposed to take some dirt and sprinkle it on the casket but she just stared from her mother to the leaf then to the hole in front of her.  With her mother watching her, she looked up at her once more then took a step towards the grave, holding the leaf out in front of her.

“Bye-bye daddy… I miss you, too.”  She opened her fingers and watched the leaf drift down and settle on the casket.

The woman smiled at the girl as she wiped her eyes then followed the girl’s example.  The girl watched as the other people dropped handfuls of dirt into the hole and said their goodbyes.  She was hugged by each person at least twice before her mother said that it was time to go home.  She went back to the grave one more time before her mother directed her towards the car.

“We’ll come back soon, daddy!”  She smiled and waved at the headstone.

The girl ran back to her mother and they walked to their car hand in hand.  As she was getting in the car, a breeze blew across the cemetery, rustling the leaves of the trees and rippling the water of the pond.  A bird sang from a nearby tree and the girl giggled.  She just smiled at her mother’s questioning look and, as the car door was being closed, she whispered “I love you too, daddy.”

#

During the following months, the girl and her mother visited the gravesite every Saturday.  The girl remained the same, always laughing and smiling but the woman had lost weight and bags had formed under her eyes and her hair was unkempt.  The girl watched as her mother said less and less to the stone marker.  The length of her own conversations never diminished and each week her mother would have to tell her multiple times that they should get home.  Every time that her mother said it was time to go, she would think of something else that she had to tell her father.

It was still the same after four months, her mother wouldn’t say much but they would stay for an hour or so while the girl talked.  One Saturday in late February, her mother didn’t say anything to her father.  It was cold and cloudy but the girl jabbered on and on as usual.  Her mother stood silently by, swaying slightly, with her eyes closed.

Fifteen minutes into her conversation, her mother said “Let’s go, booger bear.  It’s cold.”

“But we just got here, mommy.”  She looked up at the pale face that was staring back at her.

“I know, but it’s cold and mommy’s tired.”

“Ten more minutes, please!”

A gust of wind blew the woman’s hair across her face, hiding her expression from the girl.  “You know mommy worked late, can we please go home so I can rest?  We’ll stay as long as you want next week, okay?”

“Five minutes?”  She smiled.

“Now, please.”  Her mother took a step away from the grave.

“But I still haven’t told daddy about Mickey’s new trick.”

“You can tell him next week, let’s go.”

“But, mommy…”  She was interrupted.

“That’s enough!  I am tired and cold and I said it was time to go, so march!”  The woman pointed towards the parking lot.

The girl didn’t argue, nor did she acknowledge her mother’s command; she just stared at the seemingly dark gray water of the pond.  The wind had died completely and large drops of rain were beginning to fall from the sky.

“Great… now it’s raining.  We’re leaving.”  The woman grabbed the girl’s arm.

“No!  It’ll make daddy sad if we leave!”  She pulled against her mother’s grip as the rain worsened.

“This is getting ridiculous… daddy’s not here!  He won’t mind if we go home!  Do you understand me?”  The woman was quivering with frustration.

As tears began to fall down her face, the girl struggled even more against her mother’s hold.

“That’s enough!”  The woman’s free hand jerked upward.  A flash of lightning silhouetted the sudden movement against the sky.  As her hand was just coming down, a loud crash of thunder caused the woman to flinch.  She stared at her half-raised hand and muttered “Oh my God.”

The girl was sobbing loudly now and between the sobs she let out, “He’s not at home either.”

The woman gathered the sobbing girl up in her arms and held her.  “Shhh… I’m sorry.  It’s okay.”

They stayed huddled next to the gravestone for a half hour before the girl had calmed down.  They rocked together, the rain hiding their tears.  Finally the woman asked, “Want to go get some ice cream?”

The girl sniffled and nodded.

As they were walking to the car, hand in hand, the woman looked over her shoulder at the marker and whispered, “Thank you for stopping me.”

Working Hard? Hardly Working.

Hello, hello! How’s everyone doing this week? Enjoying your September and pumpkin spice? It’s still in the 90s here, so I have no interest in autumn drinks yet. But it’s time for the last ‘get to know me’ post unless someone picks another prompt or I decide to cheat and pick one myself next week. I might even look for new lists like this. I saw one about books the other day. Maybe I’ll hunt that one down for October or November. It’s just so much easier to write a post from a prompt. Anyway, if you’ve been following along, you’ll know that we’ve covered 47, 13, 43, 33, and 11. Today, Jen chose 27. The prompt is ‘work from home or office culture.’ I have no office experience, but I’ll try to think of something to say.

The list one last time.

I’ve never really thought about office culture before. If I compare it to college, I probably wouldn’t mind it. Being in a company where I’m doing my own assignment/job and mostly interacting with co-workers in need be or even semi-social situations doesn’t sound entirely horrible. Now, if it’s a group project, hell no. I hated them in school and would hate them at work. I was usually the one doing most of the work because I valued my grades. Put a paycheck on the line and I’d end up doing all of the work. No thanks. But yeah… as long as I could keep my head down and do my own work, I wouldn’t be opposed to a mundane office job. Pre-plague anyway. I wouldn’t want one now.

Working from home is fine. It’d be easier on me because my computer and everything is already set up for me. Being able to do things via email instead of face to face is divine. I would hate it if I was required to make phone calls. And random Zoom meetings would be horrible. But working from home sounds like a better choice overall. Which is why writing seemed like a good fit for me. I do the bulk of things on my own and (so far) everything else is done through emails and submission portals. No one has to hear my voice and that makes me very happy.

It’s me! And video calls are worse.

However, working implies that I get paid regularly, which I don’t. So, I can’t really tell you which of these scenarios I would prefer. I have to be super careful about any paying job I get because I have to worry about losing my benefits. It’s a whole thing. I mean, they took away my SSI and made me apply for a different version of Medicaid because the government started paying me a whole $12 extra a month which put me above the SSI cutoff. Not that anyone could actually live on what the government gives me. But I require Medicaid in order to survive, so my options are get a super high paying job with excellent benefits even though I have zero work experience, marry a multimillionaire and hope the prenup gives me a few million to live on just in case, or stay poor. So, yeah. Easy-peasy, right?

There you go. I’m not opposed to office work, but work from home sounds much better. What about you? Are you an office minion or do you prefer doing your work in your underwear? As always, feel free to leave your thoughts or questions here or on my social media pages!