For my mother, with love and affection vid

Different types of writing-- and an epiphany

               I do different types of writing, depending on my mood. There's writing for my stepsons, writing for my family, friends...

               There's writing I do for public viewing...

               ...and then there's the writing I do for myself.

               Sometimes, those lines cross.

               The most prevalent form of this occurrence actually involves a project that began as a simple "this is for me" story that I began when I was in my late teens/early twenties.

               It was a story I started with no intention of ever making it public, just a way to pass the time and dabble around in my head, to see what came of it.

               Over the course of the last ten years (give or take), that short story/idea drabble stuck at the back of my mind, waiting for its time to come around again.

               Earlier this year, I had an epiphany, while I was working on another story (supposedly having nothing to do with the first). This was a story I'd been working on (off and on) for about five years, and like the first, it was a "just for me" story-- one of those I write and fall into and read over and over again for my own enjoyment (I've always thought of it as my personal version of a housewife novel).

               The wheels in my head began to turn as I took a step back to look at the parallels underlying those two stories, and as I began to connect the dots, more possible ideas began to unfold.

               The nights that followed that epiphany were a blur as I fell headlong into the brainstorm that came up as the ideas collided, and out of it came an idea for a new story-- not just the first story I began all those years ago, not the one I've been tinkering on for five years-- but something altogether new, transformed by the colliding and merging of one story with another.

               The lead in both, of course, is a strong female sort, a reluctant participant in the unfolding events of her life. And I won't drop spoilers here, because I'm having way too much fun brainstorming and working out all of the details and putting the events down onto paper to cheapen them by dropping spoilers.

               What I can tell you is that it is a fantasy story, one with epic battle scenes, epic character development, and yes, unfortunately there may be some epic deaths.

               I can tell you that it will involve science fiction, fantasy, romance, angst, heartbreak, love, hate, and betrayal. That it will span not just one lifetime, on one world, but a few lifetimes in a few worlds, and that there will be one central link between each of the lives shown, and each of the worlds.

               I can tell you that the story may turn out to involve even more than a few lifetimes, or a few worlds-- that this may be just the tip of a very large iceberg.

               I can tell you that I make my characters as human as possible-- they make mistakes, they screw up, they have obvious flaws. I set out to make them as real as I can possibly make them, because I want you to feel not just for them, but with them-- I want you to see their world through their eyes. If I haven't done that, then I haven't done enough.

               As I work on these stories-- poring through piles of notes and word documents of notes and ideas and try to make sense of it all, to transform it into the story that's dying to come out, I hope more than anything that the love I've come to feel for these stories, that the passion I have for the lives and the people and the events I put onto paper comes through in the work, and I hope I do it enough justice that when it's finished, you, my readers, will come to love the stories and the characters as much as I do.

Taking the Fall

Taking the fall

I'm not looking for perfection,
I'm not looking for scripted lines.
I can't be swayed by ego, or riches.
I only want your time.

So remove for me your mask,
Your lies, your misconceptions.
Leave your judgment at the door,
Your biased preconceptions.

My soul is honest, open.
And I ask from you the same.
Because that's the way it should be,
The heart is not a game.

If you're not afraid, you should be.
But I need you to be brave.
It takes a brave soul to risk so much,
and it's that honesty I crave.

If you're not willing to risk exposure,
If you're not willing to risk at all.
Then you can take this goodbye as closure.
Because you win only if you risk the fall.

Alone

Alone

I can hear the wind howling
Over the snow.
Where sheer cliffs drop off
Into caverns below.
A lone soul lost bends against the wind,
And wonders if he'll ever see home again.

One set of prints lost in the deepening snow,
If he stumbles and falls
Will they ever know?
Drops to his knees beneath silent trees,
How he misses his loved ones
In moments like these.

But he's alone out there now, beneath the moon and the pines,
It's been weeks since he left it all behind.
Alone with the snow, with the wind, and the cold,
If he stumbles, if he falls,
Will they ever know?

I Stand

I Stand
By Jennifer K.

              

              

I stand feeling nothing

Yet everything at once.

I know not what I'm thinking,

I am hidden from the sun.

He holds me close, yet moves away.

The dawn has marked a brand new day.

I live in the dark, and I'm craving the light,

Embracing the morning, dismissing the night.

He stands before me, many miles away.

I walk down the street underneath a sky-- gray.

I stand, feeling nothing,

Yet everything at once.

I know not what I'm seeing,

I'm blinded by the sun.

He stands in the sun, I'm lost in the dark.

Consider your feelings and with them depart.

I go, feeling nothing

Yet everything at once.

I know not where I'm going.

I stand.

written 8/14/1998 at age 15.

To hell with your age

               I've never really understood society's obsession with age. I just started my online blog back in May, and wanting to make sure I get my writing out there to as many potential readers as possible, I linked it with various social medias, including posting my vlogs on my Youtube channel.

               Part of the idea behind all of this was to help me come out of my shell a bit-- to help me get over being so shy and nervous and afraid of the thought of sharing my work with others and putting myself out there for people to see and point at and possibly mock and ridicule-- to show me that maybe the world isn't as scary a place as I've built it up to be in my head.

               Needless to say, I share links on my Facebook and across all of my social media, learning how to network on my own and trying to learn as much as I can as I go along, and I've been getting various response whenever the people in my life find out about what I'm doing.

               My mom, of course, is thrilled, but then again she's always been supportive of my writing and to be fair? I was on the phone with her the day I posted my first video blog on Youtube, and to be honest? She was the one on the other end of the line going "do it do it do it doooooo iiiiiit!"

               My husband is thrilled-- he's been pushing for years, telling me I should finish one of the various books I'm working on and send it in to various publishers to evaluate, and telling me that I'm too much of a perfectionist and that I shouldn't be quite so scared to share my writing with others (You know how it feels, don't you fellow writers? People find out you're a writer, and they ask to see your work and suddenly you hate every word you ever put to paper? I can't be the only one out there.)

               I'm like my mother in a number of ways (Yes I admit it, and with pride dammit, my mother's one hell of a strong and loving, compassionate and selfless woman, and I'm proud to be her daughter), one of which is the fact that neither one of us really pays attention to our age anymore. We both figure we're old enough to drink, drive (SEPARATELY), and vote, so why obsess over a number anymore?

               There's been people who hear I'm doing all of this and look at me like I've got a third eye. Which is fine. My life is supposed to be my life, not theirs. At the end of the day, how you live your life is your business, and how they live their life is theirs, and I've always believed everyone should live their life in whatever way makes them happy, as long as they're not encroaching on the happiness of others, or hurting others in order to make them happy.

               I don't understand why we're expected to dress and act and speak according to our ages all our lives. But then, I've never understood why people felt we should give up who we are in order to fit the cookie-cutter ideal laid out by whatever hats we happen to wear.

               I don't understand why people should feel like they have to change who they are just because they're getting older, or because they get married or have kids or even grandkids. How can you live a happy and emotionally fulfilling life if you're not even free to be who you really are? How can you be truly happy in your life if you have to spend all day every day pretending to be something and someone you're not?

               I'm in my early thirties now. And guess what? I still read comic books, just as I did ten years ago, and longer ago than that. I used to play dungeons and dragons when I was younger, and if my younger brother showed up at the front door with it today, damned if I wouldn't play it still.

               I rock out at guitar hero with my stepsons, and whenever the newest Marvel movie comes out, I geek out just as hard as they do, if not harder, and so does my husband.

               Oh yeah, family of Marvel nerds here, and DC, and every single person in our house is a gamer of one kind or another.

               I curl up on the couch with my stepsons and watch video-gamer commentaries on Youtube and crack up just as hard as the kids do, no differently than when we curl up for our movie marathon nights.

               My middle stepson calls me up out of the blue from his mother's house to talk to me about Minecraft (his latest obsession). He tells me about what he's building and sends me pictures, and we brainstorm about what he should build next. You wouldn't believe the incredible things he builds. I told him I was considering giving it a try, just to see what it was about, and he and his younger brother were both on board with the idea.

               My younger two stepsons and I get into lengthy discussions about how much of a badass Thorin was in Lord of the Rings (they've both read all the books), and get into playful arguments over who's the best Marvel superhero (The youngest would say Captain America, the middle one would say Wolverine, and I have my own opinions).

               The point I'm trying to make is that it shouldn't be up to your age or up to other people to tell you that you can't love the things you love, that you can't do the things you do that make you truly happy, that help you connect with the people you care about and make your life feel complete. Just because you're getting older or you get married or have kids, you shouldn't have to change who you are. I am who I was when I was younger, and I regret having to admit that I spent far too much time in my recent past stressing over what I was supposed to be and how I was supposed to act and what I was supposed say and wear and do now that I'm a wife, a stepmom, and a woman heading into my thirties.

               I became so caught up in everyone's expectations and bending and twisting and contorting and pretending so much to be something I wasn't for so long that one day I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and I didn't even recognize myself anymore.

               You can't do that, and be happy. And I wanted to be happy. Not "smile for the camera" happy. Honest to goodness "screw what everyone else thinks, I'm gonna be me and they'll either accept it or not" happy.

               Because you know what? You deserve to be happy in your life, and not just "smile for the camera" happy. Not "oh shit they're looking I have to fake it" happy. Honest to goodness "smiling when you go to bed at night, excited to wake up in the morning" happy.

               Screw their expectations, their guidelines for what is and isn't acceptable per your age and your status in life. Your life is yours to get out there and own, and if you don't get out there and own it, and live out every single glorious day of it to its fullest, at the end of the ride, you'll regret all the chances you didn't take, all the words you never had the guts to say, and all of the times you sacrificed who you were just because you let them tell you what you could or couldn't do, and who you could or couldn't be.

               I'm Jennifer. I'm a writer, a blogger, and a reluctant nervous-as-hell sometimes Youtuber. I'm a comic book reader, a gamer, a bookworm, and a life-long middle ages and horror and zombie movie addict. I'm a devoted wife and a proud stepmom and a proud member of the Lord of the Rings fandom among others, and I'm working my way steadily into the Doctor Who fandom as we speak. I love a good story anywhere I can find it, whether it's in movie, book, play, or video game form (To be honest, some of the best horror stories I've heard lately have been through video games), and I love meeting fellow readers and writers who love a good story just as much as I do.              

               And there are days I honestly forget how old I am because, at the end of the day, I refuse to let my age tell me who I am.

               And neither should you.

please be nice guys, I’m shy about my singing voice, and wanted to post it before I talked myself out of it

http://avsongbird.tumblr.com/post/121232748898/ive-always-loved-music-and-ive-always-loved-to


I hope you guys enjoy it. I recorded it on my cell phone standing in my hallway because it was the only quiet spot in my house. It’s always been one of my mother’s favorites and I really recorded it for her, but she asked me to post it so I did, before I could change my mind lol. I might be deleting it later.