Trying to write, but I keep falling asleep. That’s my brain’s default when dealing with writer’s block.

Seriously, I never feel as though there’s nothing to write. My mind is always brimming with plots and characters and all kinds of cool stuff. Unfortunately, sometimes even when the words are there, my will to write them is absent and I keep getting distracted by books I want to read and things I want to do.

So my best advice is to choose a time to write and stick to it. Force the flow and make it come, because otherwise you’re going to spend all your time waiting for that perfect feeling, and sometimes it just doesn’t happen.

Keep your words flowing, and if you’re having a hard time setting the scene, put in a place holder description and just keep going. If you have to, you can even write out the scene like it’s a script for a movie, with dialogue and vague descriptions of what you want to have happen in each scene. Just don’t let yourself be bogged down in a moment.

Worse comes to worst, if you’re just not feeling a scene, leave some kind of mark so you can find where you were at, put in a bunch of blank spaces, and move on to the next scene. You can always come back and fill things in later.

Example:

There was a moment of silence, most everyone surprised at the fierceness of his tone. He was thought to be largely just a pretty face. Everyone knew he had only come into his position as the oldest and highest ranking Lord left. The Wars hadn’t been kind to his Territory, his predecessors having died in quick sucession to leave him to clean up the mess.

WARD appears, dapper and debonair: “Thank you for assisting my dear friend.”

Marmalee eyed the stranger and felt his interest stir. “It was my honor. There is no conflict allowed at one of my parties.”

WARD, quirking his brow: “What if you are required to ‘entertain’ guests?”

MARMALEE: “Even then. I have never been a fan of fighting.” Only of finishing. He had no living enemies.

WARD: “I see you are as charming as suggested. I am Warden Montague.”

MARMALEE, holding his hand out: “You may call me Marmalee.”

WARD squeezes his hand lightly: “It is a pleasure, my dear
Prince-Elect. I was charmed to receive your invitation to tonight’s festivities.”

MARMALEE, stepping closer. Security is settling things in the background. “You are a Rogue, are you not?”

WARD: “I am. I haven’t ever felt the need for either a master or a slave.”

MARMALEE: “I haven’t had much contact with a Rogue before. I haven’t spent much time out of the Hive.”

WARD: “Well, then it’s my pleasure to be one of your firsts.” He turned toward the human woman. “How you doing there, Eva? Do you need any help or do you got this?”

EVA, giving an OK sign with her fingers: “I got it.” She turned back to talking with security.

WARD stepped closer to Marmalee, still holding his hand: “Well, then I suppose we have some time to speak.”

MARMALEE: “I suppose we do.” Lowers his lashes. “What is it like, being a Rogue?”

WARD: “It is what it is. I am free of responsibility, caring only for myself and never having to bow my head to anyone.”

MARMALEE: “It sounds lovely. I’ve spent my whole life being told what to do by the rules of Society. I wonder how I would have handled independence.” Not that it had ever been an option. Not for him.

He had been born in a time before recent Laws. There had been no Rogues and the very idea would have been laughable. If a vampire had no place in the Hierarchy, then they would not be allowed to exist.

The rules had been simple. Simple and brutal.

WARD: “You’ve been around a long time. I would have thought you would have seen some of everything.”

MARMALEE: “Not nearly. I have always been Favored and was kept close to the Hive. There was a time when battles were fought in honor of my name.”

WARD: “Whatever it may have been.”

MARMALEE: “Indeed.”

WARD: “I thought making a living name Taboo was impossible. Until I attempted to track your history. You could be anyone from the record books, but I can’t tie you to anything.”

MARMALEE: “One of the perks of great wealth and power. I could buy myself a new life.” And in the short decades of his new life, he had already made himself a reputation and was soon to be a Prince. It gave him a sense of fierce pride, even as he feared it all being taken away.

EVA, interrupting: “All right, that’s all handled.” Noticing Marmalee. “Oh, how do you do? I’m Eva Descartes. I work with Ward.”

MARMALEE: “A pleasure. As I see that your issues with security have been resolved, I will take my leave.” Amused look at Ward. “Ward.”

WARD: “Prince-Elect,” with a perfectly correct head bow. He offers a business card. “If you ever feel the need to call on me or my services.”

MARMALEE: “Your services.” Their fingers brushed when he took the card.

Then the moment broke. Warden — Ward — left with the human woman and Marmalee returned to his party. Alone.

Small Gods at Amazon

Okay, so this might sound mildly ridiculous, but I have to lose weight so I can fit into a pair of pants I bought.

On any given day, I wear anything from a Size 5 to a Size 11 in pants. That’s mostly because the brands don’t seem to stick to any kind of industry standard for women’s clothing, so Internet shopper that I am, I just grab whatever looks good to me.

Each label has its own sizing system and they don’t seem to care that putting random numbers on a tag doesn’t magically turn a Size 8 into a Size 6. It just makes someone mad that they can’t get their pants past their thighs when they buy an unfamiliar brand.

For men’s pants, everything’s broken down into waist and length. For women’s … there’s numerical sizes that start at 0 and go up. And occasionally there’s a brand that decides to just label their pants Small, Medium, or Large; not bothering to give anyone a clue as to what sizes those ranges entail. (It’s frustrating for shirts as well. I’ve ordered a Medium and had it actually be a Small or Extra-Small. Just completely skintight.)

I am 5’2. On average, the shortest length women’s pants seem to come in is about a 32″ inseam before you’re shopping in the Junior section. That means when I buy regular jeans I have to cut a few inches off the bottom. And when I go shopping in the Petite or Miss section, well, short and wide seems to be the style they want me to embrace. It’s like they don’t put any work into offering anything other than straight legged or skinny jeans to short people.

I am not skinny. I am not overweight. I am painfully average. Short and average in weight with small feet that can fit anywhere from a size 4 1/2 to a size 6 shoe depending not on length, but on width (my feet are wide from running around barefoot as a kid.)

Basically, I can never find anything that fits me. The only way I can see myself ever having clothes that really work for me is if I go and have them tailored. Otherwise I’m stuck fruitlessly combing the racks of women’s clothes, where a Size 7 can actually be a Size 9 or 11, a Large should more realistically be labeled a Small, and when I hold a pair of pants in front of me they’re nearly taller than I am.

It just seems ridiculous that in this modern age there isn’t a brand out there embracing the idea of honest measurements for pants. If I could find a waist and length that fit me well, I would keep going back to that same brand if I had the assurange of always being able to find a pair that fits *me* and not someone that’s 5’8 and built in all straight up and down lines with no curves at all.

Until that day happens, buying pants is this horrible crapshoot I’m forced to play. Where I order a pair of pants online from a company I know and am familiar with, only to find out that at some point they were experimenting with their sizing system. And now I’ve just bought a pair of pants that don’t fit right.

Anyways, I’m losing a few pounds for these pants. I mean, I’ve been thinking about losing some weight anyway — and my dog loves the added exercise — but these pants have given me added incentive.

I’ve cut out soda and am drinking more water*. Berry Pomegranate Mio has become my new favorite thing. It tastes like Vitamin Water, so it gives me a bit of flavor. Plus it was about $3 and there was no way I could cut out soda cold turkey.

* I read this thing that mentioned people who drank two glasses of water before eating a balanced meal lost up to 5 lbs more over 12 weeks than people that just ate the balanced meal. Water really is a magical elixer.

FLORENTINE: “Too broke to buy another pair of pants — I just spent the money — but I can’t fit my ass into these ones.”
RICKETS: “Why don’t you sell them?”
FLORENTINE: “Because I’ll never get all my money back and these pants were an awesome deal. I don’t want to give them up. They’re usually $170, but I got them for $75.”
RICKETS: “Because they’re a Size Negative-4!”
FLORENTINE: “Maybe they’ll stretch to fit?”
RICKETS: “Or you’ll shrink.”

Witch King at Amazon

I don’t want to seem all judgy, but the idea of RPF disturbs me.

If you don’t know, RPF *does not* mean role-playing fanfic, which some people unfamiliar with the idea have taken it to mean recently. No, an RPF is a real person fic. Basically, it’s when someone writes about the real actor, musician, athlete, etc of their fandom. A lot of the time it’s sexual, and includes details scavenged from interviews and whatever.

I enjoyed the story where Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr are actors that play the characters of James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender, and that was just a world of awesome. But to take real people and use their real names and lives and write about them … It seems to cross some line in my mind and I don’t write it and I mostly don’t read it (there have been a few instances where I was unfamiliar with the fandom and didn’t realize those were supposed to be real people. Plus that MythBuster android story was frickin’ awesome and I don’t really consider that RPF at all because they use their real names on the show.)

I love my fandoms, but I am always careful to remember that the actors and actresses are not their characters. And seriously, who wants to be sued for libel?

It’s one thing to have Sherlock/John as your OTP and write and write until your heart wants to burst. It’s another thing to write about the actors with their real names and add instances taken from their real lives and turn it into entertainment or madcap sexcapades. At the very least, that needs to be friends-locked on your journal or Registered Users Only on AO3. Otherwise it pops up on Google search results and at some point some ficcer is going to be hit with a giant lawsuit.

Real life =/= Fandom.

* * *

Read some original slashy fiction at Kimichee.

* * *

BTW, if you’re someone that commented on my HAHAT entry and you’re waiting for your freebie, it’s coming soon. I was going to include the whole of Franz Caulder’s story, but I added a murder mystery and it just felt overbalanced and needs some work. As such, I will be giving out free Smashwords coupons when the official version comes out.

I will be emailing the PDFs of Slipping Through the Cracks, which includes an expanded version of what was posted here on my blog, but it’s pretty gen. As such, I’ve written a sideshot called “Franz Caulder: PWP” and I’ll be sending that along with the PDFs. It’s basically a one-night stand fic set before he meets Ryan. (I’m mostly of the plot first school of writing, except when I’m not.)

Also, the Psychotic short was just going to be for one lucky winner, but I have no idea how to use Random.org *shrug* so I’m giving that to everyone too.

Expect three attachments coming in your mail.

* * *

I love you all. Laters.

Allies & Enemies at Amazon

Post thumbnail

I can’t wait for the first time someone reads Allies & Enemies and is like “Ah hah!”

I get an inordinate amount of pleasure out of hiding Easter eggs in my stories. Sometimes it’s hard to fit them in (not in this case) but it’s always worth the absolute heel-kicking delight I get when someone finds one.

Someone out there is going to read Slipping Through the Cracks and Allies & Enemies, and I’m going to receive a message: “I see what you did there!” and it will be the greatest moment of my life (which is actually pretty sad. Yet true.)

***

Franz as a character is growing in my brain. He’s clamoring to be my star and he’s relentless in his pursuit of fame.

I’m just not sure which Franz I should focus on: Superhero Kid Nitro, or the confused Franz Caulder that is desperately adapting to his new world.

Which appeals to me the most: The demigod that brings about titanic changes, or the guy just trying to get along.

I’m really not sure. I like both of them for differing reasons.

Kid Nitro is somewhat arrogant about his metabilities. He has Nigel to be his backbone and his brain, so he somewhat coasts through life. Yet he’s got a big heart and a desperate need to fight crime and prove to himself that his parents would have loved him if they had just gotten to know him. The kid that grew up to be a superhero like them.

Franz Caulder is a guy that doesn’t realize he has any skills of his own. He constantly undervalues his worth in any given situation because he simply doesn’t see what he has to offer. He’s just a guy.


Title: Slipping Through the Cracks
Author: Harper Kingsley
Character: Franz Caulder/Ryan Wilder, Dr. Pamela Werth, Nicole Carson
Genre: mm
Rating: mature
Summary: Kid Nitro went to sleep in his own bed, and woke up on another Earth in the body of an alternate Franz Caulder. It’s a world without metabilities, which is jarring enough, but it’s also a world where Other-Franz is a mental patient grappling with some serious problems.

***

Swinging an appointment with Dr. Werth took longer than he would have liked. She had a full schedule and another patient was in the middle of a crisis. Franz held himself together until she could fit him into her schedule.

So it was two days after the awkwardness of his mother’s visit that he settled himself on “his” chair in Dr. Werth’s office. It was the one he always used.

“And what has you in such a tizzy?” She sipped her coffee, looking at him through the steam.

“I have something to admit. For the last month and a half I’ve thought I was someone else and I still feel like I am. I guess I hallucinated that I was a superhero named Kid Nitro and I was raised by a British man named Nigel Caulder. And in that hallucination I wasn’t Franz Benoit. I was Franz Caulder. I was Kid Nitro.” His throat got too tight to speak. There were tears streaming down his face and he had no control over it.

“I see,” Dr. Werth said.

Her mug was empty, but she still held it close to her mouth. Her expression was blank, but he could see the frantic thought processes taking place behind her eyes. “I see,” she said again. Her mug thunked lightly when she set it down.

Franz felt like she was waiting for him to speak. He ignored the cue.

“I’m very proud that you’ve come forward,” she said. “That was very brave of you.”

“I need help.”

Her smile was pure compassion. “And you will get it.”

/ END

There’s more to Franz’s story, but this is the end to this section.

Part Two introduces Ryan and sets the tone for the rest. I guess I just appreciate the idea of characters in an established relationship having awesome adventures and like doing stuff. Life doesn’t have to end with the start of an official relationship.

[table “24” not found /]

This story was part of my post for the Hop Against Homophobia and Transphobia. It ended May 27th, but will be back again next year :)

I’ll be sending out the Slipping Through the Cracks PDFs in the next couple of days.


Just for fun, here’s Kid Nitro’s cameo in Heroes & Villains. The League of Superheroes are discussing the Darksters and what they’re supposed to do about them:

“The problem we’re seeing is that they have branches all over the planet. There’s even word that there’s a small Darkster cell in Iraq that’s causing trouble for the new government.”

“How are they communicating with each other?” Lady Arcana asked, her faux-Russian accent thicker than usual, clearly disgusted by what the terrorist group had done.

“On the internet,” Masque said. “They have a whole underground message system going for planning their acts, but then they post what they’ve done on the Darkstar page of BioPic after they’ve already left the scene of the crime. It’s kind of a ‘Look what we did’ type of deal. It makes it hard to track where or when they’re going to hit next.”

“Do they have Darkstar’s backing?” Bonecrusher asked. Most people took one look at his over-muscled physique and labeled him stupid, but that was far from the truth. Though he was rather quiet, which didn’t really help with his reputation.

“He hasn’t made any public announcements one way or another,” Masque said. “Though there was a recent post on the Darkstar BioPic page that called for the Darksters to stop what they’re doing or else. The poster went by ‘Darkstar3499’ and identified himself as the ‘real’ Darkstar. Most people have labeled him a wannabe and some individuals that have been identified as Darkster members have basically just told him to shut up and mind his own business or he’ll be their next victim. He only made the one post, but common opinion is that he’s just some guy and Darkstar doesn’t really care what the Darksters do as long as they don’t make him look bad.”

“They’re trying to curry Darkstar’s favor by committing ever more heinous acts,” Lightspeed said, pushing up his glasses. He snapped his fingers at his sidekick, Kid Nitro, who blurred a second before holding out a cup of fresh, steaming tea. The British superhero sipped his tea delicately, gracing the boy with an approving smile before turning back to the rest of the group. “Until he acknowledges them, whether with approval or censure, they are just going to continue killing and causing trouble. And his popularity with the masses means that their group numbers will continue to grow. So we need to do something about them before the situation gets too out of hand.”

“How much more ‘out of hand’ can it get?” the Flame Burst demanded, slapping his hand down on the table. “They’re killing people! I mean, once you’re murdering in the name of, what else can you do that’s worse?”

“Their body count can only get larger,” Lightspeed said. “They went from four victims, to fifteen, and the treatment of their victims has become ever more violent and sadistic. And with the way they’re spread out across the globe, there’s no way that the normal authorities will be able to track them all down. My suggestion is that we talk to the super groups of the other countries and come to an agreement that these Darkster fools be handled.”

“That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?” Witch Fire sneered. “No matter who it is, you always think they need to be ‘handled.’ You probably have a bigger body count than the worst supervillain out there.”

“Now is not the time for your personal disputes,” Captain Victorious interrupted before Lightspeed could respond. The two of them had been at each other’s throats from the minute they first met. If there had ever been an instance of hate at first sight, Witch Fire and Lightspeed were the embodiment of the sentiment.