When I talk to people about writing, or ask them questions, I always try to avoid talking about what I'm actually writing about. I admit, I feel a little ashamed.

I am writing a werewolf story.  Yes, werewolves.

Perhaps you don't see the issue. Perhaps you are one who instinctively grits their teeth.  Perhaps you are a concerned sort.  "But Dae!" you cry, "Werewolves and vampires are being done to DEATH. Why would you do this?"

Well, for starters this is no Twilight book full of vegetarian monsters.  The plot started years ago.  I actually remember checking out the book Blood and Chocolate by Annette Curtis Klause when I was in Junior high, 5 years ago.  I read the book and thought to myself, why do werewolves and vampires always have to fall in love with a human or want to become human?  Don't get me wrong, I loved the book (refuse to watch the movie) but yes, this started as an anti-Blood and Chocolate plot.  I wanted to completely turn it on its head.

I started building my characters and plot about 4 years ago.  It was simpler then. Or not so much.  I worked out the entire family of werewolves meticulously - their names, their origins, history, personalities, relationships, desires, physiology, strengths and downfalls.  I wanted my FMC to be strong, thoughtful, deep, intelligent, disconnected from the human world, anti-social, fiercely loyal to her family, and with an urge to go run free.  She was born in Russia -- she spoke French.  Yes, that was absurd and it got dropped quickly.

My secondary character started as just a girl labeled as a "slut".  The girl with the bad reputation, and she hated it so much she embraced it.  I didn't know what else to say about her.  Here was this girl who would wreck my FMC's world. I didn't know what her parents were like, or her home life.  I didn't know what her goals in life were. I still sort of don't.  But I guess that's okay - when I was her age I wasn't sure if I'd ever see a future. I couldn't imagine one for myself.

Then I realized I wanted to make this story about BOTH of them.  Somehow shove them both into the single spot of Main Character. Leave them each morally ambiguous and deeply flawed. Let the readers decide which one was the hero, and which one the villain.  I kept feeling like my human MC was the villain... and then that she wasn't, and so on back and forth. But how would I ever balance both?

A friend of mine helped me come up with a subplot. While the book would continue to deal with my human becoming infected, there would be another issue - one of the wolf FMC's brothers (who had never had a big feature) hated himself and his family. He considered them monsters. He wanted to forcibly stop the spread of disease.

I had these two amazing plots to twist together.  Now how to write?  Nothing worked. I've been through a dozen different rewrites of the opening scene.  How will the human MC and wolf MC meet?  How will the infection happen?

It took me a while and I realized that my human girl needed a dad.  She'd previously had a bitter mother who was divorced.  Now I gave her a dad.  A police officer - the only one in their small town - and she loved him. Her parents were still estranged, and seemingly about to fall into a divorce.  The dad solved how I would introduce the two characters.  But a new problem arose.  With a dad, my character became a whole new person.  She loves her dad, I realize.  She went from the sexual, aggressive character I needed to becoming a shy, reasonable person. She was lovely.  I needed ugly.

I had to kill her dad.

Not just take him away again.  I realized I had to introduce him... and then kill him.  It was what I needed to make her snap.  I also realized that my human girl and wolf girl shouldn't be enemies from the start.  They had to be friends.  Perfect friends.  In fact, I think that they need to fall in love.

My ultimate revelation thus far was this:  my human MC is the main character.  IS.  No sharing lime light.  No huge subplot.  Her story needs to be told, from begining to end.  And this shocked me.  She started as such a minor character, and a stereotype.  She was nothing more than an addition to the story of a family of werewolves.  But no.  This actually wasn't about them at all.  Which made me cringe in fear -- if I wanted the other plot to ever be printed, I'd have to go for a series, or at least a sequel.  If the first fails, the second will likely never be told. The story of the werewolves I labored for years to create will be nothing but background noise for a character who came out of nowhere.  And I suppose I would be okay with that. I'm not upset - I'm amazed.

My book is strange.  The characters are in the YA age group, yet I'm not sure if the book will be suited for it.  Maybe I'm wrong - I haven't read many dark YA books for a while.  The entire book is mired in blood, death, insanity, murder, blackmail, betrayal. 

I have it plotted from beginning to end and back again.  But what have I written?

5 words.  My title.  I'm afraid. But I feel that inevitably, it will happen.  I have a fully written novel in my head, and not a lick has yet come out of my finger tips.  I'm carrying a werewolf novel around that doesn't exist. I'm ashamed. But also so astonished.

Yesterday I took a long trip to the coast of Maine.  Destination: Castine

The goal was to find my college, and have some fun while doing so.  It turns out that Castine is a pretty rural place, although my previous rural town didn't have a golf course!  The school only has 800 or so students.

The trip began with a stop at our local Cumby's for drinks, and on a whimsy, a $2 scratch ticket, with lucky number 13.  Well, it was lucky indeed... I won 4 times off that number, raking in a $20 prize. Big money!  Mom decided that this was a good omen.

My mother and I started out following the school's directions to the interstate... and then realized that we'd gone 40 miles out of our way to begin with.  What a waste!  But we picked up the right interstates and continued onwards.  Of course, my mother is beginning to have some legendary bladder issues, so our first scenic stop was in Palermo, next to a lake.

Just look at this lush greenery.  It was pretty nice, except for the fact that letting the truck sit still meant that getting back in was HOT later on.

As a side note, I went to a graduation party the day before, which turned out to be lakeside.  My friend and I planned on taking a nice dry paddle boat out into the lake to have some fun.  Well, the sea-doo skipping around the lake decided that we wouldn't stay dry!  Good thing I left my cellphone on shore.

And back to the trip...


So next, our directions became confusing again, naturally.  We went a little too far and decided to go into Belfast and stop to look around.

 This is the coast at Belfast.  The residential houses and businesses were very nice to look at... very colonial architecture and lots of costal motifs.


We stayed just for a few moments to stretch our legs and think about the directions some more. 

We knew we needed to get to Bucksport, and from there we'd make it to Castine.  Fortunately I wasn't going alone because I would need a GPS and a trained guide to get me there.

We hit the road again... and I found myself being dragged into a shop by my very excited mother.

Behold, Perry's Nut House!  What is it, you may ask?  Well they sell foods like candies and assorted -- you guessed it -- nuts.  They also have a safari assortment of toy animals, keychains, t-shirts, and so many things to do with lobsters or moose that your brain would pop.

And delicious fudge, which I am currently eating.  Mmm.

Among the animals they had, there were a few choices of unicorns.  Another good omen for this trip! I brought home a wild-eyed little uni on a keychain, along with a few other good-luck knick knacks.  Little did I know how much I'd end up needing them!

After Perry's, and a lunch stop where I ate my desert out of a plastic children's bucket, we cut through Searsport towards Bucksport.  It was 1:30pm, and our trip had begun at 9am. We were back to business.

Then my mother saw this beautiful monstrosity of a bridge (which promptly made her lose some bladder control, I believe).  She hates big bridges, and this one was quite large for us.  Exciting for me, terrifying for her.

We ended up stopping at a little scenic look-out spot before conquering the beast.  It was nice, but not much to look at.  A little history plaque told me that this was the scene of a big loss for the Americans back when we were fighting the British.  We stumbled across a lot of these flashbacks to the Revolutionary War era.

 

The Penobscot River.  Scene of a great American loss against the British.  Big, beautiful, and proud.  Hopefully less polluted than the Kennebec.

 Then we drove across the bridge, my mother letting out a continuous scream until we finally rolled onto land.

We'd finally made it to Bucksport, which brought up the question - where was the witch's tombstone?
Are you not familiar with that question?  Well, in Maine there is a legend about a witch whose foot appears on a gravestone at some cemetery.  But we passed many cemeteries and were unable to find it the first time through.  I ended up texting my very helpful brother for an address, which we realized was already behind us. To be continued!

From there on, the roads became very rural.  The houses were small and lovely, and many were for sale. The salt water peeked at us every time we crested a hill, or rounded a shady waterfront road.  We went through Verona Island, Orland, the town of Penobscot, and finally made it down to Castine, and found my school.



We headed straight to the coast and snapped some photos of the ships before trying to figure out where to go on the campus.  On the right is a picture of a tug boat.  It was pretty large, but the training ship the school uses is at least 3-4 times larger, and was unfortunately not docked that day.

This is the football field at my school.  They also have indoor courts for tennis and raquetball, an indoor swimming pool (woo!), a rock wall and more.  There were some frightening pull-up bars by the NROTC office.  My ass is going to be kicked at this school.

We found the bookstore next and purchased a couple items - a very official-looking MMA shirt for me and one for my mother which even had "MOM" written on it.  She was thrilled.

Most of the campus was locked down, so we went around with a map for a little while, looking at buildings, and then decided to leave.  For such a long time, we didn't stay for even half an hour.

Goodbye for now, Castine!

Back on the road again.

We hit a long road and headed back to Bucksport.  I wanted to find the gravestone with the witch's foot.

Imagine my surprise when the truck started drifting into the opposite lane of traffic.  No, imagine my fright!  I felt myself about to literally pee my pants at the sight of oncoming traffic heading towards us.  A truck on the opposite side had to go into the ditch to go around us.

I yelled at my mom, "What the hell are you doing?"

Her response, "I felt like off roading. He needed to get out of my lane."

Thoroughly terrified, and my mom laughing at me to cover her mistake (sigh), we made it into Bucksport safe and sound, and located the cemetery (across from Hannafords).  They have a specially built ramp and guard rail that leads directly to the tombstone.

Two plaques next to the gravestone told us the story behind the gravestone.  This monument was erected for Colonel Jonathan Buck, the founder of Bucksport and all-around considered a great guy.

The legend is that he had a woman condemned as a witch, and burned at the stake for her witchery.  She supposedly cursed him, saying that her mark would appear on his headstone.  While she burned, one of her legs fell off and rolled out.  Her deformed son grabbed the leg, cursed Buck, and then ran off into the wilderness.

Sixty years later, the town erected this monument for Buck, and the leg-shaped mark appeared.  They attempted to sand it off, but it continued to re-appear.  The plaque also states that it is not uncommon for granite to have a flaw that doesn't show up until it's been cut and polished.  There is also a mark on the upper part of the monument in the shape of a sideways heart.

The legend of the witch's curse only showed up after the monument was erected sixty years later. Also, there is no record of anyone being executed for witchcraft there.  Still an interesting legend.

When we hit the bridge later on, I made sure to describe our lofty journey in detail to get back at my mom for nearly killing me.  My favorite was, "Whoa, can you feel the bridge moving back and forth?"  Heh heh.

We had a great trip overall, and we hope to hit some more destinations this summer. 

Next I want to check out the Desert of Maine.

Dear freshman girl,

I had the pleasure of helping you in pep band for a short time. In that time, I grew fond of you, because of your affiliation of being a fellow percussionist, and out of sympathy and fascination for your personal life - namely, your "friendships".

I've heard from elementary teachers before that when you go into high school, even the strongest friendships are often ripped apart. For you, I hope that is true. This may seem awful to you, but in my own opinion, losing your friends could possibly be the best thing to happen for you personally, and anyone else in your position. I know they may seem so important now, but frankly to the rest of us, your friends are batshiat insane. They constantly upset you, and one has so many tantrums and emotional breakdowns it is a wonder that she has any friends at all (and honestly, she reminds me of myself at her age).

There's a sort of magical quality to high school, even one as small as ours. You can see someone every day for a year, but then their schedule changes, and suddenly you never see them at school. Never.

This is the death sentence to friendships, though it doesn't have to be. I had 2 best friends when I started elementary school. I was a horrible little girl back then, like your overly emotional friend. But things change, and personalities smooth out. I went from loving them to hating them to loving them again. And we are still friends now, coming out of high school. We stayed in touch through clubs, after school activities, and social networks.

But this magical disappearing act can be wonderful - and I know this sounds mean - to get rid of old friends. Sometimes you would have to put in extra effort to ever see someone. This means that a bad friendship can grow apart, and you can each go your own way. Perhaps you will become friends again someday. If they aren't good for you, let them go. And I beg you, bass drummer girl, let your two friends drift away. Let them grow with experience and let their minds and emotions settle.

You will all change over time, some more than others. They may come back to you, or you may realize you are so glad to never see them again. You may not even remember them. The thing is, we are not the same person we used to be years ago. I would not be friends today with many people I used to play with. I am friends today with many people I never would have gone near as a kid.

Lastly, one thing I wildly endorse is to be yourself. Dance even if there is no music. Sing when everyone is paralyzed with fear to speak. Do what you want to do, not what everyone else is doing. The result is that you will love life more, enjoy your days, love yourself. Those who make friends with you will truly like you for YOU, as opposed to a mannequin version of yourself who only knows how to follow the trends and listen to the popular music.

I care deeply for you, drummer girl, because I see so much of my troubled former self in you. Know that I don't have the answers to everything, but I have found personal happiness, and that is what I wish for you.

Sincerely,
A drummer girl

Graduation is truly an amazing experience. After years of hardship, frustration, and tedium, things begin to clarify and wind down. I've heard many things about graduating and preparing for what's next, and I'd like to put out my own experiences.

Mostly, I'd like to negate a lot of phrases that students will hear in their lifetime.

1. "These are the best years of your life."
Lord, I hope not. Academically, high school sucks. But I will admit, I had so much fun in high school, but here's why - it's because I learned to let myself have fun and laugh at the fashionable shoes of "cool" and "normal". I started as a little dorky freshman who had such low self esteem, she wouldn't look anyone in the eye. I was afraid to speak in class because I thought that I'd fail the course or something if I answered a question wrong. Then I dated, and though I wasn't ready for a relationship, that gave me such a confidence boost. And then I cut my hair. Long brown hair down to my butt - shaved off and dyed into a red mohawk. I had never been happier in my life! From then on I realized more and more that I should do what I want. I still had tons of friends, and better yet I knew those friends liked me for who I was, not because I was buying X brand of clothes. I fell madly in love with unicorns, I wore sombreros and giant sunglasses to class, I sang love ballads in busy hallways. I did have a great time, but it was full of a lot of suck, including a mental breakdown in junior year, when I realized I had to stop being a perfectionist.

2. "It's easy to get involved in __."
Can I just say how hard this can be? Sports, for one, are next to impossible to get into unless you've always been in them. The Fall sports start before school even begins, and you will not get the memo if you're new. Seek it out immediately and join. It's hard, but it's worth it.

In the same vein, music - join early and stick with it. I wish I had even known about music programs back in the day. There are awards that people get in things like marching band or sports teams for being in it for 4 years. Which means if you join a year late, you don't even get a chance. I love shiny awards at the end of the year.

Clubs - stick with them, but especially in senior year. I didn't really have time in my senior year for clubs, but I should have made time. Mainly it was laziness on my part. The trouble is, you could be the go-to person for your club one year, but if you're not in it senior year, no one cares. I joined the school's Honor Society in my senior year. Best choice, because I get all of the nice awards and none of the mandatory meetings.

Senior year is the time to jump through hoops to get your awards, and also volunteer because...

3. "Go to college."
No. College isn't for everyone. Think about it. If you only want to go to college to study some sort of liberal arts philosophy basket weaving thing, you're wasting your time and money. Sure, it might be a good experience, but college is damn expensive and in this day do you really think you're going to get a job as a philosopher? To be honest, I would rather go to a community college and learn how to work on cars for a living than go off to college for women's studies or something whose job market is an abstract concept.

4. "You can afford to go to any college you want."
Yeah, right. I've been told I'll get all the financial aid I need to go to school. My family has no income, I have no income, and I have no college fund. Currently I'm hoping like hell that the last scholarship that hasn't come back yet will come through for me. It's a big one, but there's still a risk that I'll be short 6,000 or more. That'll have to come out my pocket. And by that, I mean I'll have to take out a loan now (and assuming I get the loan at all) and then hope like hell I get a job when I graduate so I can pay off my student loans for years to come. I was literally told by my financial guide that choosing between schools meant "deciding how much debt you want to have." I want no debt at all! But someone like me is screwed because we need help and don't get it. Choosing college wasn't even a thing when I realized there was a 20k difference between my options.

5. "Apply to Scholarships"
This one is not a lie. The lie comes from them not promoting scholarships enough. Apply like crazy. Stay on scholarships as soon as senior year starts, like an angry hornet. Tackle every single one you might be able to get, big or small.

Scholarships tend to look for these qualities:
Academic decency
Atheltic goodness
Community service **
Financial need
You are a woman

To be honest, academic seems to be the least important thing on the list. B students are usually in the clear (okay, well this is coming from an A student so I'm biased). There are many scholarships for athletes but most important of all is the community service part. Scholarships seem to go crazy over you being able to show that you spoon feed old ladies every weekend. DO VOLUNTEER WORK IF YOU PLAN TO GO TO COLLEGE.

6. "You may hate ___ now, but you're going to miss them when you graduate."
No. I'm really a bleeding heart over lots of things, and I'm certainly not a staunch "My class needs to die" person, though I've probably said it at least seven times. As class marshall, I get to stand up in front of the class and direct them. I get a sense of pride when my class marches in, left right left, and they all sit down at command. We clean up nice. But will I miss them?

First of all, I don't really get to pal around with every single person in my class. There are, amazingly enough, a few I've seen just now and I have no freaking clue who they are or where they came from. The nice thing about highschool is that it breaks you apart from your friends. You may have 3 classes with someone every day for a semester, and then your schedule changes and you never see them again. There are kids I haven't seen in so long I didn't even know if they dropped out or not.

So when I see these people graduating, they make look nice for a change but it doesn't make them nice people suddenly. The drug abusers will still be drug abusers. The bitchy assholes will still be that way. The annoying kids will still make my skin crawl. The mentally unstable will still be prone to screaming outbursts. They may change years later... but not in one day.

I'm participating in the August Blog chain at AbsoluteWrite. The prompt is: If you had to pick one color, and one color only, for an aspect of your writing, which one would it be and why?

The color I would pick is hazel, as it appears as in eye color.

Why? Hazel is something all its own, that is hard to describe in exact terms because different people have different opinions of it. Like my writing, it's hard to put into any one category. If hazel was green or brown, it would be called green or brown. But it can be both simultaneously, or neither. It has to have its own name. Hazel.


I also chose hazel because of the connection to eye color and eyes. Eyes, the window to the soul. Everything I write is a reflection of myself in some way. My characters all have a piece of me, good or bad, big or small, common or unique. Each plot and the way I write reflects who I am and life experiences, small truths twisted into metaphors or mostly fantastic scenarios. A blend of reality and the surreal. Like a blend of colors. Like hazel.


Other August Color Bloggers!
Aheïla: and direct link to her post
Ralph_Pines: and direct link to her post
AuburnAssassin: and direct link to her post
semmie: and direct link to her post
Anarchicq: and direct link to her post
CScottMorris: and direct link to his post
PASeasholtz: and direct link to his post
LadyMage: and direct link to her post
orion_mk3: and direct link to his post
DavidZahir: and direct link to his post
aimeelaine: and direct link to her post
FreshHell: and direct link to her post
sbclark: and direct link to her post
Bettedra: and direct link to her post
Guardian: and direct link to her post (YOU ARE HERE!)
M.R.J. Le Blanc: http://libraryofandunien.blogspot.com/
Alpha_Echo: http://writersramblings81.blogspot.com/
laffarsmith: http://www.craftingfiction.com/

Cast the circle thrice about, to keep unwelcomed spirits out.

I'm doing this analysis entirely apart from the book.

First of all, this sentence can be exactly what it means. Circles can be an important part of ritual magic practice. They are often recommended to be cast before a spell. I'm writing this entirely from memory so take it with a grain of salt or anything else you like. ;)

The purpose of a circle: Circles can create protection from negative energies or spirits, as stated in the line. Circles are also cleansed when they are cast to rid the spot of pre-existing negative vibes. This spiritually cleans the spot so that a spell starts with a fresh slate, or the same just for meditation, etc. While the circle is cast, the chosen spot, inside or outside, is sacred.

How to cast a circle: There are probably a large variety of ways to do this, so I won't bother to specify things to say or even pretend that this IS the way to do it. I'm not saying it is, but again this is what I remember. :) Variety is the spice of life, so take from it what you will.

Circles are generally recommended to be 9 feet in diameter. The perimeter can be marked if you like, with stones, crystals, or herbs. Do whatever seems right. (Note that different herbs have different properties, so depending on the nature of what your circle is for, specific herbs can aid you. I recommend Scott Cunningham's Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs. For protection from spirits, salt is a catch-all.) At large, I've heard that casting a circle is largely a spiritual thing that can be done with an athame or your power finger/hand. Focus on drawing your energy and visualize it creating a circle drawn by your hand. Drawing this three times is recommended. You may also want to align yourself with the directions, North, East, South and West.
The next part, to be honest, I'm not sure if it comes before drawing the circle or after. This is the part of sweeping out any stray energies. You can use an actual broom to do this, and visualize the energies being swept away so that your circle is clean and blank, ready to be powered by your own energy and intentions. What you do with the circle afterward is up to you.

For more ideas about spell casting, check out my post "Spells That Rhyme".


The number Three.This is what I really want to analyze. Three is EVERYWHERE especially in religions. The Triple Goddess, either a trio of goddesses or one goddess that is recognized in phases: the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone. They represent a cycle of life. The waxing phase of the moon corresponds with the Maiden. When the moon is full, it is the Mother. When the moon is waning, it is the Crone.

Three is even important in Christianity. The Holy Trinity is the best example in my opinion: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Notice how similar this is to the Maiden, Mother, and Crone, but masculine?

The triangle, the three-pointed and three-sided geometric figure, is considered the strongest geometric shape for construction. Unlike a square, a triangle is very hard to distort. It's so simple, but so strong. I'm sure you can think of many other things that are related to three.

There is also the superstition that things, especially bad things, come in threes. (I hear this one very often. It was especially kicking around the internet when Ed McMahon, Michael Jackson, and Farrah Fawcett died within 3 days of each other in 2009.) There are many other superstitions that involve threes. Hearing three knocks can foretell death.

You don't have to take my word for it, though. You can look it up yourself. ;)

Well, I didn't want to update on my step-dad until I knew whether or not he has lung cancer. He's being tested for that on the 18th. He is home now, but barely got a few days in before new things came crashing down.

My brother's fiancee, Anna, took off to North Carolina with their two sons, ages 1 and 2. She said she was only going to take care of some sick family member for a week. The claim is still that she's coming back on Saturday, but we have a lot of reasons to believe that she isn't coming back. She left huge bills for my mother and brother to pay, and wasted all of her own money before taking most of my brother's money "for gas" before she left. She was starting to work whenever she felt like it (not like her), blew money on a tattoo, and left without giving her job any notice or quitting. My brother found messages to her ex-boyfriend about how she wanted to be with him. She told my brother she would call him when she got to NC. It's been about 5 days and my brother has called every phone number he can find but her friends and family who know where she is will not tell him anything or give him her number. I think that even qualifies as parental kidnapping, but I think my brother is just going to call social services and get them to remove his sons from her custody, and take her to court to get custody. We have no idea where she is, so that might be hard. I don't think we can really do anything until Saturday goes by.

My step dad has had an increasingly hard time walking. Right now he needs assistance or he will fall down. He has to drag his left foot when he walks. He described it like there was a pressure cuff cutting off his circulation. He went to the ER because of the pain and numbness a few days ago. The doctor said he didn't want to "deal with cramps" and only peeked at his leg and told him to go home. My mother took him back to a different ER the next day and THOSE doctors told her his leg didn't even look right. When they did tests they found that his arteries are blocked up very badly, so there is next to no blood flowing to his legs. They wanted surgery ASAP to put stents in, but then found that the blockage was worse than they thought so they didn't do anything but scheduled more tests. He was supposed to get those tests today but that was canceled because they found something wrong with his kidneys. Might have something to do with the drug they insisted he take that nearly caused kidney failure last time he was on it, but they insisted. '

My mother is pursuing legal action against the doctor who told Harry it was just cramps. We can't afford a lawyer so we can only do so much.

I wish I was making this all up. :(