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Standing in the crowd,
listening to the band,
this is youth, this is life,
this is wonderland.

Sliding down the rabbit hole,
riding crystal trails,
wondering where we’ll end up,
and whether we will fail.

Falling into Wonderland,
searching for the Queen of Hearts,
wondering if this is life,
or just another false start.

The crystal cracks,
we all go splat,
the world so gigantic,
now seems small.

So take a hit
from the hookah pipe,
and rest beneath a mushroom sky,
and watch your life become a lie.

Falling into Wonderland,
searching for the Queen of Hearts,
wondering if this is life,
or just another false start.

The smoke clears, we prick our ears,
we wait and watch and learn,
this life’s a dream, or so it seems,
a lesson we never learn.

The white rabbit runs,
our end’s begun,
the world returns again.

Falling into Wonderland,
searching for the Queen of Hearts,
wondering if this is life,
or just another false start.

The crowd is gone.
The band is done.
We stand still,
while the rabbit runs.

We never found the Queen of Hearts,
just a lot of bitter tarts,
and youth is gone, spent and torn,
and from the ruins a man is born.

Falling into Wonderland,
searching for the Queen of Hearts,
wondering if this is life,
or just another false start.
melworks: (Default)
I feel today has been a productive day for yours truly. I got up early, paid some bills which crept up on me, went to the movies, did some shopping and am now at home doing laundry.
Supper tonight will be sausage sautéed in butter with green beans, sweet peppers, diced tomatoes and a little bit of lime. It will be seasoned to taste with chili powder and pepper. I'm getting hungry just thinking about it.
Also, there will be writing.
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The sun does not shine past the trees.
The ground is dark, the domain of night.
And we stand in that darkness, looking up,
hungry for a glimpse of light.
Light that never comes, until the wind blows.
Branches sway and bend, and the long night gives way
to an oh too brief dawn.
Then the wind moves on, the branches grow still.
Endless night returns and we return to our vigil,
waiting for a glimpse of light.
melworks: (Melworks)
So, the job at the Comic/Smoke Shop did not work out.
The owner decided to hire someone with more managerial experience. Eh. No hard feelings.
To be perfectly honest, I didn't really want to work there.
Sure, it would have been great to work in a comic shop, but I wasn't thrilled at the idea of working in a place that sells bongs. You can call them 'glass' or 'art' all you want, but we all know that you're selling bongs. And I . . . am too straight edged to work in such a place, I think.
So, that didn't happen.
I did have an interview at this insurance place last Monday. I think it went well. I was interviewed by two of the managers at their Customer Service Center. We spoke for about 40 minutes. I think I did well and I hope to hear from them this week. If I don't hear something by Tuesday, I might send an e-mail off to my contact in their HR department.
I'm still at the comic shop. Actually, I'm the Last Employee at the comic shop. The manager is working at the local game store, heading up their e-bay room. Coworker Kristen gave her notice to focus on art commissions. I told the owner I'd stay and finish out the store.
It's been . . . interesting. I thought I'd be bored, but I'm too busy to be bored. Also, I'm getting a bit of extra money, so that's nice.
Not much else to report on. I haven't written anything in ages.
Well, nothing printable.
Not even pr0n.
It's been about a year since I published anything, although I blog at least once a week.
Maybe a more structured job will give me impetus to get my shit together and take care of business.
Only time will tell.
melworks: (Melworks)
Holy shit. Has it really been a month since my last post here? Good lord!
Well, let's see what's been going on.
The landlords both got jobs. Misses went to Chicago with the kids a couple of weeks ago and Mister is leaving next week. I am driving him to the airport. I am also going to be renting out rooms in the house as long as I'm here. How long that will be? I don't know.
Work has been good. I'm still enjoying working in the shop, although I need to get better shoes. My feet are killing me. Some people have recommended I get some NewBalance shoes, while others pimp Birkenstocks. Any opinions? Hit me up in comments.
Writing? Eh. It hasn't really been happening. I like to say it's job exhaustion but the fact is I've written a lot of false starts and none of them have gone anywhere. Still, I'm plugging away.
Speaking of the job, I'm going to be giving a talk on comics and literacy at a local library later this month. It's an all ages talk, and I need to check with the librarian handling the matter, but I'm quite looking forward to doing it. That said, if anyone has any ideas re this subject I'm more than open to suggestions.
Househunting continues to be frustrating. I have expanded my search to include condos and townhouses, but, so far, no luck. The market here is really sucky, at least in my price range.
So, there we have it. A month caught up in less than five minutes. Now I"m going to hit the flist and catch up with what everyone else has been up to. - xoxo Mel


Dec. 2nd, 2012 07:58 pm
melworks: (Melworks)
This weekend I drove up to the mountains to spend some time with an old friend, Anna. She’s in a band and they’re heading west, stopping off at cities along I-40 as they trek toward Los Angeles.
It was nice to see Anna again. The last time I saw her, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t see her again. I had resigned myself to that, so when I got her e-mail telling me that the band would be in Cherokee for the weekend and would I like to come up? I was caught off guard.
Still, I figured what the heck? Hopped in the car Saturday and drove to the mountains.
I thought the band was playing a gig in Cherokee, but it turned out they were just enjoying a final, lazy weekend before they start heading across the country. We got to hang out, go to dinner, lose some money in the casino.
At one point, there may or may not have been a game of strip poker. I will never say for certain.
I was invited to stay the night, but decided against it.
When I left Cherokee that evening, there was a haunted moon in the sky and an invitation buzzing in my ear.
A year ago I’d driving across the country along I-40. Earlier that evening I’d told the ladies some of my experiences.
They asked if I’d be interested in heading cross-country with them. Basically, I’d be a roadie, helping set up at gigs and taking a turn driving the van.
Ladies and gentlemen, I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t tempted.
As I drove home that evening, my feet itched. I’ve got a mild case of the wanderlust and the thought of traveling cross-country again is appealing. Lately, I’ve been thinking how much I’d like to return to San Simeon, revisit Solvang and the Painted Desert.
There were sights I missed the first time round that I could catch this time. The Winchester House. The London Bridge in Lake Havisu City. Las Vegas.
However, I knew as soon as I got behind the wheel of my car and drove out of Cherokee, that I wouldn’t be taking the offer. It would have been a lot of fun traveling along I-40 with the band. We got on like a house on fire.
But I want to do what I want to do and, this month, that means returning to work on the Sequel. That story has been lying, patient and still, in the back of my mind a long time and now it’s starting to get restless. It wants attention and I want to give it to it.
So, I declined the offer to live a rock-n-roll lifestyle, to travel cross-country in a van with four very talented and very sexy ladies, setting up amps and living off truck stop food. Instead, I’m going to focus on finishing the Sequel and getting The Other Book out there for the public.
We all have to make choices.
This is mine.
I don’t regret it.
melworks: (Default)
So, I've finished my second novel, a fantasy with a rather cumbersome title. 
Actually, I finished it a few days ago and have been working on edits and read-throughs.
I am babying the fuck out of this one, people. 
Because it was a holy terror to finish.
Normally, when I write, it just flows.  But this one? This one came in fits and starts, shuddering forward and then lumbering to a stop. There were times when I wanted to delete the file.  There were other times when I wanted to pick up my laptop and hurl it out the window.
Even as I was writing it, the story squirmed and twisted. Nothing new there, that happens with everything that I write, but this time? This time it just felt malicious, like the story didn't want to be finished.
Initially, this story was my rest piece, my alternative to The Sequel.  I often referred to it as The Other Story. Soon, though, it became the Only Story.  I couldn't get The Sequel into gear because this story was devouring my brain.
Writing this thing became less an act of creation and more a contest of endurance, a test of will.  Overall, it was a bloody pain in the ass.
You know I'm having problems when I talk about the details of a story.  I never talk about what I'm writing on except in the vaguest terms.  But the other week, while visiting my Mom, I sat down and expressed my frustration with the story.  She asked what it was about, which led me to sit in her living room and just sit there and tell her the entire fucking story.  I never do that, but this story is the first one I've written that has made me seriously doubt myself.
However, it's done now.  Finished.  I've done two read-throughs and finished my edit. This Monday, I submit it to my new Editrix, and while she's going over it, I shall be considering cover art.
God willing, I'll have the damned thing online at Amazon before the Xmas season.
Wish me luck. - MEL
melworks: (Default)
Rereading my current project and thinking, "This could use more sword fights," is never a good sign. :(
melworks: (Default)

Who's Who? )

What's what? )
When you write a crossover fic like Fringes:One of Those Days, cannon takes a beating.  The fic is set roughly in the first season of Fringe, before the discovery of the other universe and before Peter and Olivia began their relationship.  That explains why Peter is so flirty with Uhura.
Uhura, as noted above, is from Star Trek: The Original Series.  Not NuTrek.  How did she become one of the Doctor's companions? Her backstory is sort of tragic. When the Star Trek timeline was jiggered by Nero & Spock, the F:OTD Uhura was shook loose from time and discovered by the Doctor.  She is basically a living, breathing paradox.
Tony Newman's history is just as tragic. At the end of The Time Tunnel, Newman and his friend, Doug Phillips, were stranded on the S.S. Titanic, at the same time and place of their first jaunt using the Time Tunnel.  The two became trapped in a closed temporal loop.  Trapped on the doomed ship, untouched by time, Newman spent forty years subjectively working out complex multidimensional equations in his head to find a way out.  His efforts attracted the attention of the Doctor who rescued him. The fate of Doug Phillips remains unknown, but Tony is a bit 'fragile' in F:OTD, suffering from bouts of severe agoraphobia.  I imagine he's not too fond of cruises either.
UNIT, in F:OTD, has become the dominant international organization responding to extragovernmental threats and general wierdness. As such they have absorbed a number of other organizations into themselves, including U.N.C.L.E.  This explains how Napoleon Solo is working for UNIT as head of their North American Division.
Speaking of Napoleon Solo, in F:OTD, he is older and more battered.  His history is also a bit more colorful, as he and the Doctor know each other and seem to have a cordial relationship of sorts.
I took the biggest liberties, I feel, with Professor Arturo.  In Sliders, Arturo becomes one of the quartet of adventurers wandering from one parallel Earth to another.  In F:OTD, that didn't happen. In his unrevealed backstory, our Arturo investigated the disappearance of Quinn Malory and discovered Malory's notes on sliding.  When Malory never reappeared, Arturo took the notes and cobbled together his machine, trying to access other dimensions.  Unfortunately, things went a bit pear-shaped for the professor.
Which leads us to the question of the breach.  Was it a result of Arturo not quite understanding Malory's notes? Or, was it caused by some outside influence? The Other Universe, perhaps, from Fringe?  Maybe the Kromaggs from Sliders were involved? Could it have been one of the Doctor's enemies?  Perhaps it was the chaos-mage, Ethan Raynes, working under the auspices of the Black Guardian? Perhaps the Lovecraftian horrors from the Dungeon Dimensions were trying to break out?
The world may never know.
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Olivia Dunham wasn't sure what to make of the strange man who had arrived at the scene of the latest incident. His credentials were impeccable, although not even Broyles had been able to ferret out any details regarding his background. She wasn't surprised; she'd heard odd things about UNIT even before she joined the Fringe Division. They were a closemouthed group, operating under the umbrella of the United Nations Security Council, but no one was quite certain what they did. That alone said a lot about this peculiar Doctor John Smith.
"I'm UNIT's scientific adviser," he'd said, in reply to Olivia's oblique queries. Then he had flashed her an enormous smile and proffered a bag of treats. "Care for a jelly baby?"
Of course, the Doctor and Walter got along like a house on fire. Both men were eccentric and both were, Olivia was convinced, geniuses. She'd walked into the lab and found them sipping milkshakes over the desiccated corpse.
"Agent Dunham!" enthused the Doctor. He flashed that enormous grin at her. "You'll be pleased to know this incident isn't a Fringe incident!"
Olivia eyed the corpse. "Really?"
"Oh yes," said the Doctor. "I'm quite certain." He gestured at the remains. "This is something quite different."
"Really?" Olivia deadpanned. "If this isn't a fringe incident, Doctor, then what is it?"
"Isn't it obvious?" said the Doctor. His wide smile lost some of its clownish sparkle, becoming something a little more feral.
Olivia felt a headache coming on. "Doctor, if you could. . . ."
Walter spoke, with a gleam in his eye. "It's an alien, Olivia."
She fought the urge to sigh. It was going to be one of those days.

Read more... )

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I went back and decided to combine all the chapters of Fringes: One of Those Days into one easy-peasy post.  That will be the next thing that I post.  I figure it'll be more convenient for people who want to actually read the thing. :)
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Been a while, but I thought I'd take a stab at finishing this. Enjoy!

Fringes: One of Those Days - Part 10 )
melworks: (Default)
Today, while looking through one of my boxes, I found an old box full of floppy disks. On those disks, I discovered a real blast from the past.
The complete collection of Dark Justice stories, I posted on YahooGroups way back in the toddlerhood of the Internet.
They brought back a lot of memories.
melworks: (Default)
So, I have finished my final edit of The Book of Doom.
It's formatted as well as I can get it this side of looking at the converted text on Kindle, ePub, etc.
I am actually going to be publishing it this June.
Holy. Crap.


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