Originally posted on Infinitefreetime.com:
I’m home by now, or at least I’d better be. One more guest blog anyway, because there’s a REAL good chance I want to sleep in this morning. In fact, hopefully I’m still in bed. Regular programming resumes tomorrow. Today’s guest blogger: Rose Fischer!
I lurk in a lot of writing groups and forums. I participate now and then, but mostly I lurk. It’s the online equivalent of people watching. I get lots of ideas that way. So, if you see me listed as a member of any group that you belong to, be advised. I’m watching you!
One way I do like to participate is to answer questions. Over the summer I noticed that the same questions would come up over and over. Answers were a mixed bag. Some were awesome. Others were clearly composed while the author was smoking a big chunk of her living room carpet. Eventually…
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This is a brain dump about Star Wars fanfiction.
There are two parts, one posting today and the other tomorrow. I’m writing a brain dump because I’ve been trying to put an outline together for a new blog series for a couple of weeks now, and I just can’t get the swirling mass of my thoughts into any kind of a coherent structure. This is stream of consciousness, so if you don’t like those, I suggest you move on.
If we were having coffee I would tell you about this dream I had last night.
It started off with me on Tatooine, looking for She-Ra. I found her, but the planet was going to blow up for some reason (Death Star?) We barely managed to get off the surface and then crash landed on another planet called Tatooine Ghost (Which is actually a book, set on Tatooine.)
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Yesterday, I wrote an essay about my lifelong battle with incontinence. It includes two incidents of physical abuse by my mom. I fully intended to post the essay as part of an ongoing series I’ve been doing here. I went to bed last night, and I began to think, “oh, shit, I can’t post that. People will think my mother is a horrible human being and she would be hurt if she read it.” I thought of all the things that she’s been through in her life. Several miscarriages, spousal abuse, the loss of a child. Does she really need to have this exposed? I’m not using her name, nor mine, but that guilt remains. I wonder why.