Every time I think I don't have to post for at least one day...

...something comes up and I feel the absolute complete compulsion to post something!

This time it's Evil Editor's anniversary party, and QUITE the party it is! This is the 5th anniversary for Evil Editor, and I think that's cool! There are fun times to be had, and more importantly, prizes to be won! So go on over and check it out. And read the fun messages people have left already for Evil Editor on the Toasts & Roasts page. I know they entertained me. ;)

But not nearly as much as EE's blog does.

A-Z blogging challenge "C" - Charcoal (art)

Today I've decided to focus on Charcoal art, because in high school charcoal was my favourite medium to draw in, and I've never lost that love. Here are some of my drawings:

I really love the shading you can do with charcoal. Then again, you can do that with pretty much any other medium too. So maybe I can't explain why I have such a love of charcoal.

Also, I'm sneakily adding some stuff to this post under the guise of a Check this out! section (hey, starts with a C!!), so here you go:

Check This Out:

• I keep forgetting to mention that I won NaNoEdMo. I only got credited for 51 odd hours, but did a bit more than that. So that's another Goal ticked off 2011's list. Even if I edited something completely different to what I'd thought I would
• Read my 11th book for the year - I'm 44% done with my goal, according to GoodReads' widget thingy (which you can keep track of at the bottom of my my Goals page!)
• This is my 95th blog entry! That's a fair bit of writing I've done here considering I only began in early December last year
• Evil Editor has featured yet another of my queries, so if you want to check it out click here!

So there you go. Another day, another letter!

When I Actually Write A Book, You Will Be Acknowledged Blogfest

Before I get onto the actual Blogfest, I want to mention that I have another query, this time for SQUEAKY, featured on Evil Editor right now. Check it out.

Now...onto the business at hand!

Oh my GOSH. The last blogfest of the month is here! It's been a completely crazy month, and I'm sort of relieved it's over. But it's been heaps of fun participating in all these cool blogfests and meeting new people along the way. And maybe it'll make A-Z seem like peanuts! :D

By March 30 (which is in 12) days, write an acknowledgement blurb for 12 people, with 12 reasons. But not just ANY twelve people:

• 3 people you know IRL.
• 3 people you know online.
• 1 person who has died.
• 1 person you never met.
• 1 person you met once.
• 1 couple (so, 2 people).
• 1 author.

The Blue Lipstick Samurai

So, here is my acknowledgement (for all the writing I've done so far):

I wish to acknowledge...

• My mother, Leigh, who is totally awesome and has always encouraged me in all of my creative endeavours
• My father, Lester, whose quirky creativity has inspired me in my life, and whose individuality makes him the most interesting person in my life
• My former colleague Julia who helped me come up with more and more ridiculous ideas for Squeaky, and was in fact present when Squeaky first came to life
• My dear friend Kelly, who enthusiastically read my rock star romance and, like a good and biased friend would, told me all the things I wanted to hear
• My critiquing partners Jenn and Winter for their enthusiasm and their help with making my works better
• My mother's mother, who I never met, but who has my name - Patricia - and helped to make my mother the amazing person she is, and therefore had an indirect influence on me too
• That Dutch guy I met while backpacking - man he was sexy! He gave me great quotes to use in my travel memoirs, and made me laugh at the time too
• Bill and Joni, my dear friends who always give me a place to stay when I'm in L.A., and are highly encouraging of all my creative endeavours
• And finally, author Ian Livingstone (and is co-author Carl Sargent, and their little Zagor series) for inspiring me to start my first ever fantasy novel, which grew into a huge monster and is still not finished.

Okay, all done. :D

Now I am going to run around screaming in excitement that March is over. Heh.

P.S. Prompt #13 is up on Chrysalis, and we have two new members!! I plan on doing a shoutout post for all our participants here sometime soon. :) Maybe for C in the A-Z!

Race to 200 Blogfest!

Before I get onto the actual blogfest, I want to mention that my query for NAUSICAA was featured in Evil Editor's blog, HERE...and by "featured", I of course mean put through the Evil Editor and cronies blender. ;)

I also want to mention this great recap of the latest WriteOnCon chat, written up by L.J. Boldyrev at Sisters in Scribe!

Okay, now onto the actual point of this entry!

It's time for the Race to 200 Blogfest (click on the image to find out more), and here is what's required:

"Write a story/excerpt (no more than 750 words long) about a race of some sort. It could be an actual race. Or a race for survival. Even a race against time. Be creative!" - J.C. Martin

And without further ado, here is my entry! :D According to Word, it's 649 words!

Pansy

Brendan was a dick. Everybody knew it, but it seemed he wasn't satisfied with everybody knowing—he wanted to show them.

Not that he hadn’t done so plenty of times before. But this time was different.

John was sitting in his car in the left lane, staring fixedly at the glowing red traffic light. It cast its warm light across the intersection. He saw the faint hue of the green light for the crossing street, but he saw no more than that. It didn’t have much impact on the red. Beyond the lights was a t-junction.

He was trying his best to ignore Brendan and his absolutely dicky friends in the next lane, their lime green Ford Falcon chugging away like a race car. But it was hard to ignore their booming voices. And their stinking exhaust. They’d turned their music down, presumably so they could hear themselves better. Or maybe so John could hear them. How considerate. Usually John would have turned his music way up, to drown it all out. But his speakers were messed up and silence was preferable to the painful buzz-crackle they emitted.

Usually, it was preferable.

He was wondering if time to embrace it, just so he could drown in noise and pretend Brendan didn’t exist. It was always nice when he could pretend that.

“Oy, pansy, what’s it gonna be?!”

Brendan’s voice rang through the night. John clenched his jaw and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, willing that red traffic light to turn eerie green. The red seemed to mock him, saying, Nah, we’re gonna sit on this a while, see how much you can take.

“I think he’s deaf, ay!” Brendan’s cousin Larry hooted. “Or wait, I know what it is—he’s got a crush on you mate!” And the laughter was deafening.

John swore to himself he was getting his stereo fixed first thing in the morning. He’d been putting it off, saving for a new car, but he wouldn’t be ready for that for months—and he couldn’t stand another night like this. The kind of night you couldn’t drown out in music.

“PANSY, PANSY, PANSY...!” The chant wore on, and John daydreamed of running the red light.

And then that red light was green. Both cars sat in their lanes, not moving.

John had been here before. It was better to let Brendan tear off, so you weren’t in danger of getting in his way. Getting in his way could mean being run off the road. John had been here before. But Brendan wasn’t moving.

“What, you don’t wanna race me?!”

John gave no answer.

“Hey dude,” Brendan said to somebody else in his car, “why don’t you get out and hop in the pansy’s car? He can show you a good time!”

Much more hooting laughter, and John imagined that maybe Brendan’s car was rocking with it. Then one of the doors opened, and John knew it was time to act. The light was still green, but it could turn amber at any moment. He pressed his foot down on the accelerator, hearing a door slam and a bunch of dicks shouting. He was rounding the corner, resisting the urge to start speeding. Then he heard squealing tyres and the lime green beast flashed past, cutting in front of him.

He leaped on the brakes and his car shuddered to a stop, giving himself mini-whiplash. Then he looked up, through the windscreen, and saw Brendan’s car half stuck into the embankment of the t-junction. Steam rose from the bonnet, hissing in the night.

With zombie-like motions John took out his mobile phone and dialled triple zero.

“Emergency, how may I direct your call?”

“Um... Yeah. Some dicks just had a car crash.”

“All right then. What is your location?”