Category Archives: Kabobbles on Kabobbles

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Writing Is Grieving

Writing has long been my preferred coping mechanism. People who wonder at my output shouldn’t necessarily do so. I have a long standing habit of using writing to cope with life or escape it, and while I’m told it’s not really normal to write when one is grieving, that it should be impossible, I’m not that way.

I’ve been writing. I need to try and write again. I won’t speak to the quality of it, and I’m not sure I’d share it, yet I find myself needing to do something to that effect. That is… I’ve lost my way again, and I don’t know how to keep the writing going.

Arthur is gone. That hurts so much I swear I would just shut down and cease to function myself (he was my symbiote, my other half, I am NOT okay with him gone) and the only way I know of coping with this sort of emotional duress is writing.

I may need help with that, though. My ideal thing would be to send fic bits to someone and have them tell me what they thought, but even just having some direction would be okay. Prompts, suggestions, stories someone wants to see more of, anything. Make me finish a challenge or do a bingo card. Something. Maybe I can do it for someone else because doing it just for myself isn’t working.

Arthur would be here, now, snuggling next to me and trying to block my keyboard, trying to make me feel better. He’s not here. I need something else, something that helps fill the gaping hole where he was… or just something to make me forget it’s there for a few minutes.

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About Arthur

Right now, I’m not capable of much more than saying what happened.

Eventually, I’ll get a proper tribute together, something worthy of the unique and wonderful cat that Arthur was. As it is, I can barely cope with the knowledge that he is gone.

He made it several months past the dire diagnosis of kidney disease, but in the end, not even his strong will and determination to be there for me could overcome the physical toll of age and sickness.

We said goodbye to Arthur yesterday.

Nothing feels right and nothing is the same, but it shouldn’t be. He was too great a cat not to make this much difference in my life.

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State of the Kabobble

I wouldn’t normally do this. It does seem rather wrong to do, given that Arthur is such a dignified cat, and he would not like his medical status to be public knowledge, but I fear it is necessary to do so.

Yesterday morning, I was able to take him to the vet after a few days (and a very long weekend) of worrying, and she confirmed a bit of my fears regarding his lack of appetite.

According to his blood work, Arthur is in the early stage of kidney disease. He is not so sick that he is dying immediately, and the vet did say that he was active and that the lack of phosphorus was a good sign. She thought we could buy him more time, perhaps a year.

Right now, he is getting fluids, anti-nausea medication, antibiotics for a couple infections, and has special food. All of this cost me a lot more than I’d hoped, and it puts back resolving the legal issues I am dealing with again, but Arthur is too important to me to lose, and I honestly don’t know what will happen if I can’t buy him that year.

He is the namesake of this publishing company, my closest companion, my symbiote, and I love him. I don’t know how I will do without him, and I don’t want to know. I am hoping this buys more than just a year, but in case it doesn’t, I thought I’d say something, do something, as much as I can, before anything does happen to him.

I am going to try and take a video of him if he is up to walking outside again. He was adorable when we did it the other day, and while he’s skinny and a bit sickly and it’s not him in all his dignified glory, it’ll be something to show of him.

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Blue

I had a hard time writing anything for this song. I love it, but it hits too close to home.

You sit and stare out at the rain
Or bury yourself in your books
Don’t look at no strangers
No, don’t give them any looks

I’ve always had a problem with eye contact and dealing with other people. So I wouldn’t want to look at strangers and used to hide in books all the time.

Why you ask yourself, why you’re so afraid
Why you hesitate when someone asks your name
They’ll come too close if you tell them the truth

I have had and shed many pen names over the years and I have also found myself thinking that my name didn’t fit me. I never liked my middle name, but more recently I was signing things at work and found myself tripping over the name I was using because it wasn’t me. I didn’t know how to explain that to anyone, though. I tried, I considered renaming myself, but I didn’t find anything I liked or that felt like it fit (well, I did get a new pen name, but that I will discuss later.)

And the only man you ever loved
You thought was gonna marry you
Died in a car accident when he was only 22
Then you just decided, love wasn’t for you
And every year since then
Has proved it to be true

No, there was no car accident and no man I loved that died, but I have mostly come to accept that I will be single for the rest of my life. I don’t enjoy doing the things it takes to meet people (not even sure I like people when I’m honest about it) and I don’t consider myself a good prospect. Plus, my idea of an ideal marriage mate seems impossible when I think about it.

Now you’re just a shell of
Your former you
That stranger in the mirror
Oh, that’s you
Why’d you look so blue?

I can answer the last one easily enough: I have depression. I know this. And a lot of times, especially around a certain arbitrary date each year, I look back at my life and feel like I’ve accomplished nothing and all the things I thought I’d have and where I’d be by now never happened and seem impossible.

Kabobbles Sing Along is just what I think when I hear songs. I sometimes see images when I hear lyrics, pictures or movies in my head. Sometimes I relate it to stories. My interpretation of the songs and lyrics are probably nothing like their original intent.

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Alternate Universes, Nano, and the Loss of a Cat

Yesterday we lost a cat we’d had in the family for twelve years. He was fifteen. He was very sick, but that doesn’t make it easier. He was a sweetheart and a favorite and I used to spoil him almost as much as I do the namesake of Kabobbles. (I’ve been telling that cat he’s not allowed to die and better not even be thinking of it. He glares at me, but he’s gotten very skinny in his old age and he worries me.)

I flailed desperately for some kind of distraction. I was having a hard enough time before we came home from my sister’s, but when we were home, everything reminded me of Leo and it was worse.

Incidentally, crying with a chest cold is very painful.

So while we watched a movie, an old standby favorite that is one of our cheer up or “feel good” movies, it wasn’t enough. I didn’t have the ability to play computer games or read, couldn’t focus.

I wanted desperately to write. I started considering every possible angle I could after I failed to find any prompts online that I could use and annoyed a few friends asking for them. I thought of trying to create an alternate universe for some of my characters, only the ones that need it the most were ones I couldn’t bring myself to write for, much as I like them.

I would have done things with the original Effie Lincoln and Nick Tennant because their story is tragic and they should have a world where they have a happy ending, but I couldn’t get myself to do anything on it.

I almost went back to this project I had… a project I shouldn’t have started, in retrospect because I did it for all the wrong reasons (albeit subconsciously, my conscious mind didn’t think of them until much after the fact.) I’d just ended it the night before because I figured stopping myself was better, and I was only going to take away from it the basic satisfaction that if it had been my Nano project I’d have gotten 50,000 words on it. I don’t think I would have counted them, but I did have that. Only thing is… I did so much wrong with it that I couldn’t go back in even with the loose threads and the possible domestic cuteness it offered.

So then I went back to a few older pieces, not thinking I would do much of anything, but my brain actually came up with an explanation for the world in Even Better than Dreams that I liked and could run with. I talked it over some this morning, and I think I will try to resume my edits there. I really like Tolan, and I am looking forward to doing more with him, though it’s dangerous because he could end up taking over the story.

I owe Leo, I guess, because even in the darkness of that moment when I was missing him so much and needing a distraction… a bit of light came, and when I feel up to it, I’m putting him in a story to honor him. I don’t know when I’ll be able to do that as thinking of him still makes me cry, but I will.

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Nonfiction? No Thanks

I have to admit that I am terrible with nonfiction.

It has never been as compelling to me as fiction is.

I told myself and everyone that I was going to start posting in the other sections of the website, that I’d be updating a section every day. I had a whole plan for each of them. I had a start to the schedule, and Mondays were supposed to be “Mondays and Me,” the one day a week I was going to fill in something in the Kabobbles on Kabobbles section of the site.

That’s just the thing, though. I am a rather boring person outside of my writing. I had thoughts of sharing the parts of my vacation this year since it tied into Inheritance a little, and I also have a few pieces I meant do for the from a character’s closet/my closet articles, but I just couldn’t summon the enthusiasm to type it up.

This is not a new thing to me. I hated papers all through school, and this probably sums things up for me personally:

“My life doesn’t have a very good plot
Guess I’ll have to lie a lot.”

~ Janis Ian, “My Autobiography”

I remember in sixth grade we had two major writing assignments. One was fiction. Mine got read aloud to the class. My nonfiction? I didn’t turn it in.

I had decided to talk about an event in my life, but it lacked drama, so I added it in.

Then I felt guilty because it was a lie.

And I hated the story.

So I didn’t want to turn it in, and no one understood why I would fail the class, since I was almost a straight A student. I was honest enough not to want the lie to go through, which is admirable, I suppose, but I should never have written it in the first place.

There’s a reason I write fiction. I don’t know that it’s a good reason, but I’d rather not get trapped in another lie.

Then again… That’s what some people would say all fiction is.

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Antique Car Cufflinks

So I’ve got another “Character’s Closet” post.

Well, it’s mostly just so that I can show off the cufflinks, but they’re awesome, so that’s okay.

After last year’s run, we stopped at antiques shops looking for hat pins (I will have to show off those someday, too) but I found these at the store and had to get them.

I did ask Grandpa what he thought they were, and he said Fords. He didn’t want them.

I bought them anyway. Maybe someday I’ll know someone who I can give them to like Mackenna does Carson in today’s section of the story.

cufflinks

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One of Mackenna’s Steampunk Costumes

So, in the latest part of Inheritance, Carson gets a good look at Mackenna’s “cheating” costume for the antique car run. That lead me to want to talk about my own undertaking to make said costume.

I have more than enough outfits to wear a different one every day and change several times a day when I’m doing the car runs, but I couldn’t resist making this one. It was way too awesome.

We’re bargain hunters in my family, so we picked up the pattern during one of JoAnn’s five for five sales on Simplicity patterns.

Before I show off the pattern, a quick look at my display and work table, which is very cool in of itself. A retro style table with chairs and Coca-cola on it, it is made of win, even if I don’t drink much pop after a kidney infection and my family’s attempts to eat more natural. It’s still win.

coca cola ftw

Okay, now for the pattern and the fabric:

pattern

I picked up the fabric a few weeks back, also through a sale, but I wasn’t organized enough to start on the project until more recently. Since the picture is not great (I live in the basement, and getting me out of it is not easy, so it’s a bit dark) I’ll link to the pattern on their site as well. It’s Simplicity 2172.

So when you open up the pattern, for those of you who have never seen these sorts of things before and perhaps to annoy those that have, you get instructions and pattern pieces. Like this:

pattern pieces and instructions

After you take them out, the fun of cutting apart the pattern pieces begins. I mean fun in a mostly mocking sense. It can be a pain to cut close without getting too close, and I did end up tearing three pieces (minor tears, but still) as I did it. That paper is very, very thin, and easy to rip, sadly.

When the cutting is done, you get a couple messes.

Scraps on the floor:

scraps 2

And the pattern:

pattern mess

Let me tell you what we learned in previous projects: the plastic bag is your friend. A quart size bag will fit the pattern nicely. Don’t believe me? I’ve got proof.

Front:

plastic bag friend

Back:

plastic bag back

Here is where I had to take a temporary break. Yeah, I know, not much of any kind of progress, you’re thinking, but not only was I doing this after a full work day, but I’ve got carpal tunnel. Cutting that much out made my hands hurt so much that I had to stop.

Next post I will talk about the joy that is pinning and cutting the fabric, show off some of that kind of work, and possibly about the actual sewing. We shall see. This is my first attempt to share a project like this, so I’m not sure how much to put at once, plus it’s still a work in progress.

I will share more when I have it, though.

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Don’t Forget the Answering Machine

It’s actually something I do for my other job. It’s supposed to go on at night because no one’s there. That way if someone needs to get a hold of the office, they can leave a message. So there’s a note. Turn on the answering machine when leaving for the day.

I don’t think I’ve forgotten to do that yet.

I did, however, forget that a long time ago, I decided to be funny with my voicemail message. It was something I saw somewhere else, didn’t make it up so I can’t take credit for it, but until someone new comments on it, I always forget that I have a somewhat unique message:

“We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile. But we’re not here right now, so leave a message and we’ll assimilate you later.”

I should probably change that… but I’ll just forget again.

Oops?

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Pen Names

It’s kind of overdue for me to talk about having pen names.

I dabble in a lot of different genres, and while I was reading up on things, I came across a recommendation for having a different pen name for the different genres. That way, people who enjoy mysteries won’t be confronted by a bunch of science fiction or fantasy, and my more satirical stuff can be separate from my normal writing, which tends to be a bit more dramatic. So, at present, based on my completed novels, all waiting for edits and covers, these are the current names I’m writing under:

Jocelyn Aitkin – mysteries, suspense, & historical mysteries
Allowyn Nyrti – science fiction
Bryawyn Tyrawood – fantasy
Atora Gainsborough – romantic drama (not sure if it qualifies as chick lit)
Jayna Addison – satire/comedy

So… while so far everything fiction on the site is all written by the same person (me,) there will be other names floating around, just for classification sake when they’re published.

Here’s some Kabobble’s Choice links to the different genre pieces:

An excerpt from the Nickel and Dime series for suspense/mystery: Early Morning Call
The start of Complete Consumption, a science fiction serial
The beginning of a story I ended up classifying as fantasy: Strange Place to Make New Friends
A bit of my one romantic drama: The First Stage of Grief: Denial
Comedy from The Not-So-Super Superhero.