Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Complicated Joys

I finally set up my Author Website today. It took some doing just for the simplest of sites. As of lately I have been caught up in taking care of my little ducks (aka my kiddos), writing fairy tales for Fiction Vortex. If you haven't visited their sight you should, it has free reads of various genres, and I've been baking. Yup, making rolls. Super yum. At least my daughter thinks so. I made nine rolls last night and she ate seven of them. This is crazy for my daughter who rarely eats that much.
My book Apocalypse: Usifrim is up on Amazon. I guess I was expecting a big to do about it, but somehow it hasn't gotten the attention it deserves. I will say it is hard to promote your work while shaping the future of the human race. I'm not complaining, just talking. I know I am a mother and that is a HUGE job full of micro-jobs that I am certainly not qualified for, and sometimes being a mother is daunting to say the least, but it is extremely rewarding. Not so much with the amount of #2 I am dealing with as my son is potty training, but still rewarding. I love my crazies. They give my life meaning and bring me the most complex forms of joy. Like sending them off to their first day of school and thinking to yourself, "I'm so old. They are growing too fast." Yes I am glad my kids are alive and growing and going to learn. Though the pain of them leaving me is heart rending.
Okay, before I go I would like to share a little tidbit of fun to come... my story for fiction vortex is nearly ready for all your reads.


It had been days since Sylvia ran out of the Bounty Feast Ball. Her hurt feelings an obvious testament to her lack of control. She hated the dark haired, strangely alluring man who pitched her worst fears in her face. Even now Sylvia seethed about his arrogant judgement of her. She was the future High Queen.
With a fatal snip one of her beloved red rose blooms fell to the ground. “Oh.” Sylvia whimpered as she picked up the flower. “Forgive me.” She spoke softly to her plants, “I am out of sorts. Despite the time passed that fellow’s words ring in my head. I know it is no excuse. I should be more careful of your fragile state.” Gently she raised the blossom to her lips and kissed it softly.
“Why do you morn a loss that need not be?” The High Queen came up behind her granddaughter, taking the flower carefully she placed it back on the stem. With a whisper of words and a soft breath blown over the petals, the rose was restored. “Sylvia, I worry about your devotion to trivial things.”
“They are only trivial to others.”
“Your appreciation of life is admirable. If only I could get that trait to extend past the boundaries of this little haven you’ve created.” The High Queen looked out upon the autumn landscape. “It may not look pleasant or appealing to you now, but there is life outside the castle that is worth every bit of your devotion.”
“You didn’t just come here to talk of slumbering life. What is your true purpose?”
“The Elders and I have decided on your first challenge to determine your worthiness for the throne.” The Queen waited for a response. Her granddaughter continued to prune and water her wild roses. “Are you not interested?”
“I only assumed you would continue to speak of my task.”
Sighing the Queen picked up a watering container. She sprinkled a healthy bush of white roses as she spoke. “As you know, the High Queen is Queen to all the Fairy realms. She is all powerful in magic and wisdom. With the Elders as her counsel, the Queen must be able to make life altering decisions for all in her care. Such as you have the power to care for or destroy this garden.” The High Queen indicated the surrounding foliage. Her granddaughter remained stoic and indifferent, clearing her throat the Queen continued. “Such is the unending duty of the High Queen. Therefore the Elders and I believe you must prove your worthy of the position with a rather small test.” The Queen whispered and waved her hands, her granddaughter oblivious to her antics until it was too late. With a final whoosh of magic Sylvia began to shrink. She struggled to counter the spell, but it was too strong. In a last attempt to save herself she cried out to her grandmother. Her voice was shrill. The words she said were nothing more than tiny squeaks. The High Queen had transformed her into a mouse.

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