Showing posts with label monster. Show all posts
Showing posts with label monster. Show all posts

Friday, November 18, 2016

Fly On The Wall In Pictures

     Welcome to another addition of Fly On The Wall group postings, hosted by Karen of Baking In A Tornado. Today eight brave bloggers are inviting you into their homes for a glimpse at what goes on behind closed doors (are you sure you wanna know??).

     They say a picture is worth a thousand words. So rather than tell you what was said and done around the Doyle abode this past month, I'm sharing some incriminating photos instead.....





THE ELUSIVE CANDY CORN VAMPIRE



WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE RUM IS ALL GONE??



WHO ARE THESE STRANGE WOMEN AND HOW DID I GET HERE?



I'M A BLUE FROSTING-TONGUED MONSTER! RAWR!!



THESE TWO FEMALES ARE ANNOYING THE HELL OUT OF ME



YOU CAN NEVER HAVE TOO MANY PUGS....



YEAH, WE BE HAWT IN THESE HATS



WE'RE GOING TO DISNEY WORLD?!?



IS IT THANKSGIVING YET?



NUTHIN' BETTER THAN FAMILY LOVE



Click on these links for a peek into some of the homes of the other bloggers participating in today's Fly On The Wall group posting:

Baking In A Tornado                   http://www. bakinginatornado.com/
Menopausal Mother                    http://www.menopausalmom.com/     
Go Mama O                                 http://www.gomamao.com                                                 
Spatulas on Parade                     http://spatulasonparade. blogspot.com/                        
Searching for Sanity                    http://singlemumplusone. blogspot.com                         
Never Ever Give Up Hope             http://batteredhope.blogspot. com                         
Dinosaur Superhero Mommy         http://dinoheromommy.com/                      
Southern Belle Charm                   http://www. southernbellecharm.com 

Friday, April 3, 2015

How To Slay The Evil Monster That Is Writer's Block: Guest Post By The Insomniac's Dream


I'm thrilled to have a very special guest on my site today who is here to discuss something most writers experience at one time or another during their careers----writer's block. As a matter of fact, I feel like I'm going through a bit of a dry spell myself since most of my time lately has been focused on query letters and proposals. When my guest writer today asked what topic I was interested in, I jumped at the chance to get her feedback on writer's block.

Please welcome my dear friend Starr Bryson, author of the blog, The Insomniac's Dream. She has some helpful advice to share with writers like me who are stuck in a writing rut!

There's another reason I wanted to feature Starr today on my blog….I'm EXCITED to announce the "coming soon launch" of her new company, Starry Knight Word Slayers! She offers writing, editing, social media marketing, and promotional services for authors. How cool is that? If you're working on a book, this is the woman you need to contact. Starr is an exceptional writer and has a sharp eye for detail. I've been an admirer of her work for a long time. Do yourself a favor and check out her website---I know who I'll be calling on to help me with book promotions from now on!


HOW TO SLAY THE EVIL MONSTER THAT IS WRITER'S BLOCK



There is one thing that we writers fear above all else. More terrifying than a rejection letter, more horrifying than a bad review or critique, certainly more heartbreaking than receiving your piece back from the editor torn to shreds; the dreaded writer’s block.

Writer’s block creeps in like a whispered fog through the window cracks, a ghost on the edge of your vision to rob you of all creativity, steal your words, and muffle your Muse. It drifts like smoke to blur your vision and rob your voice of the story that was on the edge of creation.

Writer’s block is an ugly parasite, a thief, our worst nightmare.

Yet, there are those who still say they do not believe in writer’s block, as if it were a fairy tale told to bad writers at the midnight hour to keep us on our very best behavior. A monster invented only for a campfire tale, and not a tangible beast. Write, they say, and you do not have writer’s block. There is no such thing, only excuses, laziness and distractions.

But I have been on the dark side of the night, sitting paralyzed at my keyboard, awaiting the words to spill out of me and instead receiving only mockery; a haunting laughter that rings through my ears and echoes in the halls where once my Muse and I would dance.

We’ve all felt the cold touch of writer’s block. Dare I say, even those who claim they do not believe in the myth. How do you shake off the shadow, resuscitate the muse, and get the words to flow once more?

Go for a walk

When the words won’t come, don’t sit at the computer and stress. Going for a walk is one of the best ways to shake off those writer’s blues. Just put one foot in front of the other, free your mind to work through whatever issues are blocking the words. Some of my best ideas come to me when I’m out for a walk.

Take a hot shower or a bath

This is a favorite tactic of mine, even when I don’t have writer’s block. Next to walking, the shower is where all of my greatest ideas happen. This is a soothing, relaxing activity that will ease all of your sore muscles and those kinks in your neck from hours at the computer. Don’t think – let your mind wander and the words will come.

Do some housework

Don’t look at me cross-eyed with that murderous gleam. This is a fantastic way to allow your mind to do the real digging. Standing at the counter with a sink full of sudsy water, mindlessly washing dishes while staring off out the window is a perfect way to open that part of your mind where the Muse hides. If you hate dishes, try vacuuming, I find this be a soothing, almost hypnotic chore and I’ve had many breakthroughs while pushing that sweeper back and forth across the carpet while losing myself in the designs it makes in the threads.

Read

Nothing inspires us to create quite like reading the stories of other writers. Lose yourself in someone else’s story, and your story will creep back in, whispering gently that it wants to be told. Try reading something in the same genre that you write, and if you’re really stuck, go far out and read something vastly different than your usual style.

Write

Force yourself to write through the block. Keep pecking at the piece you’re currently working on, write something new, or try stream of consciousness. Allow the words vomit out of you, even if they’re awful and the worst thing you’ve ever written. Eventually they’ll make something beautiful.

Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re not the first writer to suffer from this malady, and you certainly won’t be the last. It is not a reflection on you was a writer, but rather a side affect of having a creative mind. Sometimes, it just needs to shut down for repairs or reboot.

I struggle with the beast often, and I’ve put many a “work in progress” on the back burner when I was stuck. They wait patiently for my return.

In the meantime, I’ve made it my mission in life to help other authors. Taking my passion for reading, writing, and absolute admiration for self-published authors, I’m launching a new business that encompasses my freelancing career and adds a new exciting twist: book promotions for indie authors.

You can read the story behind the business on the Starry Knight Word Slayers Indiegogo crowd funding page. We love donations, because they’ll help us launch, but if you can’t spare a buck, we love shares, too. And be sure to follow us on Facebook and Twitter to keep up to date on the campaign.


BIO:

Starr works from her home in Pittsburgh as a freelance writer. Her professional work includes editing, Social Media marketing and management, ghost writing, content management and SEO for websites, entertainment journalism, and book promotion for self-published authors. In the past, she has taught classes at writers’ conferences in Pittsburgh about freelancing as a career and the best practices for blogging and social media.

Starr’s creative writing ranges from humor laced snarkfests, gritty and painfully raw non-fiction all the way to the dark world of Erotica. The author behind The Insomniac's Dream, she claims blogging was only the beginning of an amazing freelancing career.

In her spare time, Starr writes fiction and is working on a paranormal novel and companion serial. In addition, she writes short stories and manages a local writing group. When she’s not writing, Starr is kept busy by her two hilarious and fantastically disgusting boys.

Starr enjoys adult grape juice, reading in her non-existent spare time, the occasional Netflix binge, and connecting with other writers and her readers. She loves Halloween, Zombies, and all things horror. She aspires to be a Vampire someday.

Her claim to fame is her caustic wit, copious swears, and an ongoing battle with insomnia. You can catch up with Starr on her blog, Facebook, and Twitter. You can see what Starr has published by visiting her Amazon Author Page.

Indiegogo Campaign : http://igg.me/at/starryknight











Friday, July 18, 2014

Why I Hate Horror Movies


 

I've never understood why people love horror movies. I don't enjoy getting the hell scared out of me or pooping my pants in fright. My kids thrive on “jump scare” movies. If my heart needs a jump start, it's going to come from a medical professional slapping some paddles on my chest and yelling, “CLEAR!”

The Exorcist hit the box office when I was in middle school. All the cool kids crammed into the theaters on opening weekend, but my mother refused to let me see the movie. Which probably had more to do with Linda Blair stuffing a crucifix up her nether regions than her actual demonic possession.

Fast forward ten years when the Poltergeist came out. I didn't WANT to see this movie, but it was the talk of the town and I'd be damned if I was going to miss out on all the fun. BIG MISTAKE. My bladder muscles have never been the same since I saw that movie and no amount of Kegel exercises are going to get it back into shape.

Poltergeist convinced me that my home was built over an ancient Indian burial ground and that I'd be sucked into my television set by their demonic spirits. Because of that movie, I haven't slept without a night light since 1982.

For years I lived blissfully ignorant of popular horror movies until my teenagers convinced me to watch The Ring. Yeah, let's scare the shit out of Mom and shave a few years off her life. If they wanted early access to their inheritance, they could have done it in a more humane way rather than tell me this movie was “not at all scary.” Being the naïve parent that I was, I fell for their sadistic plot to give me early gray hairs and watched The Ring.

Suffice it to say, I spent the following two hours curled up in the fetal position, chewing my cuticles until my fingers looked like they had been through a cheese grater. I spent WEEKS sitting up late at night, just waiting for a creepy girl with stringy, black hair to come crawling out of my television set. That movie was my early introduction to Mr. Insomnia, and we've been carrying on a cozy affair ever since.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not a total wuss. I can watch The Walking Dead and American Horror Story---as long as every light in the house is on and all the doors are locked. And it doesn't hurt to barter sex with The Hubs for extra assurance that there are no zombies roaming the backyard in search of brains or creepy dudes in black, latex suits hiding in my closet.

     
Paranormal Activity, Saw and Carrie? No, no, and HELL no. Unless the theater provides free jello shots and has a Depends Undergarments dispenser, don't expect to see me in line for the next Halloween horror hit.  






***You can catch more Meno Mama this week over at Humor Outcasts where I'm revealing the changes in my life after I discovered the world of blogging. Read it here: http://humoroutcasts.com/2014/its-the-blogging-life-for-me/

Thursday, January 16, 2014

In Sickness And In Health

     For as long as I can remember, my husband has been haunted by the ghost of old injuries. Although I've been dubbed the Queen Of Klutz, my guy has ended up in the emergency room more often than I have. An accident on the baseball field in his teens left him with the knee caps of an eighty-year-old man. They creak and pop like a bowl of Rice Krispies Cereal whenever he pushes himself off the couch.
     It doesn't help that this middle-aged man thinks with the brain of a twenty-five-year-old. He never turns down a challenge on the basketball court and will gladly snap on a knee brace just to keep up with the young
whippersnappers. One year when my son's friends gathered in the front yard with their skateboards and BMX bikes to perform stunts, The Hubs didn't want to miss out on all the fun. He assured the boys that he was quite the cyclist in his youth, and that there wasn't a ramp around that he couldn't conquer. Sensing a challenge, the teens goaded The Hubs into reliving his boyhood days one ramp at a time. He swaggered over to the bike with the confidence of Evil Kinevil before hopping on and peddling full force down the street. Up he went, over the ramp, gliding though the air with the glory of youth shining in his eyes.

     And then his feet slipped off the pedals and the bike landed with a resounding thud on the hard pavement. Good thing we were past the procreation stage in our lives since my husband lost his family jewels that day on the BMX bike from hell.

     When my youngest daughter turned eleven, she invited a group of friends over for a slumber party. While the girls ate pizza and watched spooky movies, my husband came up with a brilliant idea that only a prepubescent teenage boy would admire. He donned a rubber monster mask and crept outside to give the girls a little scare. Just as they were settling down into their sleeping bags, The Hubs popped up and pounded on the window to frighten them. The girls shrieked, glass shattered and the "monster" became strangely quiet. That's when I noticed the two, red fountains pulsing from his wrists. My husband had inadvertently sliced both on the broken windowpane and needed immediate medical attention.

    The paramedics found it hard to believe that a middle-aged man would skulk around his own backyard on a Saturday night with a mask. If they'd seen him the week before in a Velcro suit on a Velcro wall at Disney World after too many jello shots, they'd understand.

     Alcohol has always been the liquid courage that prompts men to do stupid things. My husband is no different. After a rousing game of beer pong with a group of college students, my overly confident husband challenged his two, strapping sons to a wrestling match. Oh yes, he was once the captain of the wrestling team in high school. Thirty years ago. Which explains why he ended up face first in a nightstand drawer and woke the next morning to a deviated septum and two black eyes.
   
 There have been countless knee injuries, sprained ankles, sore backs, torn ligaments, broken toes, fingers and black eyes since then. I can't help but wonder if my husband's co-workers have speculated on the nature of our marriage. Menopausal women have tempers, after all.
     At this rate, I'll need to buy stock in Advil or Aleve since arthritis is Mother Nature's revenge on my middle-aged man.
     Time to trade the BMX bike in for a motorized wheelchair.


***This week I'm at In The Powder Room discussing animal hoarding. Read and see for yourself if I'd be considered as an animal hoarder! http://www.inthepowderroom.com/read/home-time/2014-01-welcome-zoo.html

***The VoiceBoks contest is still going on! Please vote for Menopausal Mom if you haven't already---I really appreciate the support. Thanks! http://voiceboks.com/top-50-hilariously-funny-nominated-parent-bloggers-2014/

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