Call me Kieran

Since I haven't posted anything writing-related in a while now, I thought I would put up a short scene I wrote during the 2011 Writing on the Waves conference. I haven't yet cobbled together the rest of the story, so this is likely to see some chopping and editing before it's all said and done, but let me know what you think of it. Happy reading!

If you can watch the above video without crying, I have serious doubts about your humanity.

Hi all, I know I've been neglecting my bloggerly duties. Actually, I've been neglecting my writerly duties entirely over the last couple of weeks, which is odd since I just got back from attending the 2011 Writing on the Waves Conference, taught by the fabulous Lynn Flewelling. I don't intend this to be a long post, as I have a lot of work to do, but I wanted to drop a note and let you know about some recent developments.

Zachary Quinto just came out of the closet. Why does this matter? Well, it ties in, both to my last post, and to the following video. If you haven't yet, go ahead and read my last post, then watch this video before you continue.

At 12:01 AM Eastern Time, the United States Armed Forces' policy commonly known as Don't Ask, Don't Tell ceased to exist after 17 years. Being as it's a policy that primarily affects the US Military, I suppose it's more appropriate to say that it occurred at 0001 hours, but either way, the policy has been officially repealed, and I breathed a sigh of relief as a result. I have a number of friends who serve in our armed forces, of which only one is a member of the LGBTQ community, but have spoken with all of them at one point or another about Don't Ask, Don't Tell, and whether or not the effect it had on "unit cohesion" in the military was the one that was intended. The general consensus has been that no, the policy was a failure and had been virtually since the date of its implementation.

The past seven and a half years of my life have been dedicated to Borders, and even now that I have a new job with better pay, I've been holding on. I always said they'd have to burn the place down with me inside to get rid of me. This may be the closest thing, and it may hurt more.

Crowds of people, many of whom I've never seen before, flooding through the store for discounts that aren't as good as they'd have gotten with their free Borders Rewards card. My store is in shambles, and try though we might, there's little we can do to recover it. It's been likened by many to vultures circling a not-quite-dead corpse in the desert, or to kneeling next to something you care about as it dies, only to have someone come up and kick it just for spite.

The shining light that remains are the regulars; the people I've come to know and care about over the years, who have come up to me to thank me for my years of service. One young man came up and pointed out that he…

A few bookseller friends of mine shared a link to this blog, where an author and bookseller in England shares her crazy stories about customers that pop into her bookshop. This, of course, led me to find this one, and this one, and this one as well... All of which have inspired me to remember a couple of my most stunning moments in the customer service industry. Most of them aren't as good as the ones I've linked, but it's worth a shot to share them anyway.

Someone asked me this the other night, and it sparked a long discussion. When I post here, I talk frequently about things going on with my husband and I, or about my progress (or lack thereof) in my writing, but rarely do I take the time to discuss that whole "Witch" part of my life. Sadly, this is also a reflection of the amount of time I spend practicing the craft, which may or may not explain why I can talk the talk far more easily than I can walk the walk. The easy part is to start with what isn't entailed, and what is most easily misunderstood.

Ben Cohen is a name very popular in the GLBTQ community, especially among gay men. He's a well-known rugby player, he's...well...beautiful, and he has always been very positive about his large following of gay male fans. Cohen has recently caused a new stir by resigning from his successful sports career to chair the Ben Cohen Stand Up Foundation, an organization that exists for the sole purpose of combating bullying, with an emphasis on preventing homophobia.

This is actually a guest post from my husband, who put this up on Facebook Thursday night when we got home. I felt it too cute not to share, so here he is...

I'm always pleased when I see campaigns like this get started. Some of the people I know insist that this doesn't make a difference, but I respectfully disagree. As I have frequently said, communication is the key to education, and education is the key to progress. The only way to sway the other side is to point out why we're not all that different after all.

Here's what Shelly has to say:

A good friend of mine is in the Marine Corps. He left on deployment back in February, and though we're able to communicate via email, I'll admit to being bummed that we don't get to talk much right now, what with him being halfway around the world and all. But I'll also admit to wondering, if it bums me out, how does his wife do it? Apparently I'm not the only person to think it, because yesterday, Aimee wrote a post about just that. Check it out.

Aimee is a pretty cool person, and somebody I'm glad to know. She is wise beyond her years, and I think anyone who gets to know her is the better for it, so I felt like sharing her blog. :-)

~Kieran

It's been a while since I posted about my progress with The Daughter of Three, which I will admit is because I haven't been actively working on it much. There have been a few major changes going on at work, and worrying about them has used up all of the energy I had to care about much of anything else. This week, that has changed.

As with Viann, I've taken the advice of those of you who posted on The Gun, and tried re-working it. The end still feels a little off to me, but let me know what you think.

Thanks to some kind advice provided by friends and readers, I've done a little editing on this snippet, and would like you to see the result. If you have more advice, please don't hesitate to comment. If you love it, I don't mind hearing that either. :-) If you haven't read the original yet, stop here first.

The following scene was inspired by a rather awful nightmare I had some time back. It's darker than my typical fare, and I'd like you to keep that in mind before reading on.

The corridor was silent as Viann passed. She often took these late night walks, particularly when Tonnan was ill. That was all too often, of late. She paused at one of the high windows and looked out over the city, a breeze drifting in off the plains. It was autumn, and cool for Thespand, though still far warmer here than back home.
Home. She missed Embréa, and all that went with it. She loved Tonnan, but marrying him meant giving up everything she ever knew. Eleven years, and she still felt like a stranger here. She touched the tiny mask she wore on a cord at her wrist and sighed a prayer to Baron. She gave up her home for love, and for love she remained here.
“Majesty?” She flinched at the title and turned to see a waiting servant. “I’m sorry to intrude, but King Tonnan is asking for you.” Viann nodded and began the long walk back the way she’d come. Tonnan rarely asked after her these days, often forgetting who she was.

All right, as promised, I am posting my goals for 2011, both to have a reference point for myself and in case anyone else wonders what I might be doing between blog posts. I will try to update on my progress as regularly as I can in each of these areas.

Wait, what frog did I forget about? I don't have a frog... Oh, blog! Right. It has been sort of sitting here doing nothing all by its lonesome, hasn't it? To the folks who follow me on Twitter or "like" me on Facebook, I'm sure you've noticed a distinct lack of presence there, as well. So the question becomes, what exactly have I been doing since mid-December?