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Thursday, March 28, 2013

Moving...

I'm in the process of moving. No, not physically, though that's on the schedule for this summer, but this blog.

I have had so many problems trying to get in to actually put up posts, much less see my stats, that I'm moving to another platform. You can check it out here and watch it for future posts.

I'm going to try and get posts that I was trying to get posted here posted there on the correct dates but, quite honestly, I don't hold out much hope for being able to figure that out. This weeks flash fiction friday will be there, however, and all posts going forward.

See you at the new digs!

Monday, March 4, 2013

The Health Journey: A Mental Health Moment

As some of you may have gathered, February was a rough month for me. Mostly you'll know this because I've been largely absent save for a few stories. I won't go into most of it except to say that I very nearly quit my job and, as punishment I suppose, I'm down to very few hours a week. Yes, I'm looking for another job but that's not really here nor there. I've actually been grateful for the reduced hours because I haven't had to call in sick. I'm narrowing down the list of foods I can eat again because something keeps making me ill and I'm having trouble figuring out what it is. My weight and my emotions are all over the map and that is never good. Coupled with some other disappointing news (it's going to be a year of blood tests again) and I've been pretty down in the dumps lately.

On the plus, side, though, I've had a serious jump in the quality of my writing. They say practice makes perfect and, while the words may come harder some days than others, I've been practicing a lot. With all the things I've been working on, I feel like a rubber band that's being stretched and stretched and stretched. There is going to be an explosion of stuff from me soon and the building potential occasionally makes me jump up and down and dance in the kitchen.

Copper Visions is going to be AWESOME!

I plan to have at least one flash fiction out every Friday for the rest of the year and a PRINTED volume of all of them that should be ready to buy around Christmas.

I've sent one of my flash fictions off to somebody to see if it could work as a script. Heh. Heh heh. Heh.

I'm learning website and design things.

I'm getting back on the yoga horse and I'm going to be doing it even if it hurts. That's what midol is for. I'm getting to my goal weight, dammit, and nothing is going to stop me. Even if downward dog does occasionally make me vomit.

So, there we go. A mental health moment from me. I'm not going to pretend that everything is going to be okay and peachy perfect from here out but oh, there are parts that are looking rosy!


I have a "Donate" button on the side of the blog that I'm considering calling the "Make writing my day job" button. If you've enjoyed the stories I've put up or gotten anything useful from what I've written, please consider dropping some money in the tip jar. If you can't, please share the things you've enjoyed with others so they can enjoy them, too.

Sunday, March 3, 2013

Steampunk Sunday: Ghostbusters

Ok, I've gotta be honest about this. I had no idea this was a thing. None. Nada. Zilch.

I'm so happy when I learn new things!

For your Sunday pleasure, I present Steampunk Ghostbusters!

This League of S.T.E.A.M "rare footage" film will be strikingly familiar for anybody who watched the original 1984 Ghostbusters. And the music is pretty awesome, too. There are a bunch of videos for the League of S.T.E.A.M on youtube, and you should be able to get to more of them through the video. There definitely worth a watch!


Showing off the energy packs. Picture found here.
A more cartoon-y version
I love fan-art, and Janine was my favorite


And a lego version? That's awesome!
I've included links to where I found the pictures in the captions. As always, if you have more information about any of the pictures I've shared, please let me know in the comments.

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Bonus Post! Steampunk Saturday: Guns of Icarus Online


 Due to issues with Blogger, I couldn't reschedule this Sunday's post to replace it with this post. So, you get a post on Saturday! 

I know most of you don't remember this post from last year talking about the Kickstarter for Guns of Icarus Online. Well, I have an update! They made their goal! Yay! Guns of Icarus Online is live and ready to play.

Right, if you contributed to the Kickstarter you probably already know that but if you didn’t get a chance to donate to the Kickstarter, you have another chance!



Guns of Icarus Online is included in The Mash Bundle at Indie Royale right now! At the time of this posting, the bundle includes Strong Bad’s Cool Game for Attractive People, Guns of Icarus Online, Kung Fu Strike: The Warriors’s Rise, KRUNCH and Delve Deeper for the minimum price ($5.50 at the time of writing this). If you pay at least $8, you also get the Parallel Processing Album. You can download the games directly or you can redeem game keys on Steam or Desura. Most of the games are available on Windows, Mac and Linux (Kung Fu strike looks like it’s for PC only).

Why am I mentioning this? Well, I love stuff that supports independent artists, no matter what their chosen method of expression, and that includes video games. I also think it’s really cool that a game I was telling about around this time last year is doing one of these bundles. I also think there needs to be a bit more exposure for Steampunk games and the whole point of my Steampunk Sunday (and occasionally Saturday) posts is to draw attention to some of the incredible artistry involved in Steampunk.

The game I’m so excited about is Guns of Icarus Online and it looks like it’s just as much fun as the Kickstarter promised. (No, I haven’t had a chance to play it yet but I plan to change that this weekend.)

From the faq:
Guns of Icarus Online is a team-based multiplayer online airship combat game set in a steampunk/dieselpunk-inspired, post-apocalyptic world where lighter-than-air flight is the only means to cross the scarred wilderness that divides scattered pockets of civilization. Captain or serve as crew aboard an airship with your friends and fly into battle to win wealth and glory. With a good ship and the right crew, you can dominate the skies!
Guns of Icarus Online will have two gameplay modes: Skirmish, the team-based PvP combat mode, and Adventure, which will be released at a later date. Adventure mode will add in persistent world features such as player factions, an expansive world map of trade routes and dynamic towns, and an economic system with resource production, commerce, and crafting that will supplement the game’s core combat focus.

Doesn’t that sound exciting? The FAQ also mentions another game I haven’t heard of before that I will be checking out once I’m finished writing this blog.

This game, while online all the time is NOT an MMO (my bad, sorry guys) though it does share a few features with most multiplayer games. I think the most exciting thing about that fact is that there is no monthly subscription to play. It’s a one-time fee. There will be things available to buy within the game but they will be limited to cosmetic items. There will be gear you can unlock at higher levels but anything that will make you a more powerful character will have to be earned in game.

The whole thing is very cool and I’m including a video here that has an interview with the developers talking about how the game works and why you would choose different types of ships, the maps and equipment you can choose from. They play through a battle and talk about how things work and planned additions. 



All in all, I would seriously recommend getting the bundle before it expires or downloading it from Steam or Desura if you miss the bundle. You can get to the bundle here.

Friday, March 1, 2013

Friday Flash Fiction: Ashes in the Sword


Clang clang, clang clang.

The rhythmic beat of the hammer echoed through the smithy, the apprentice moving the sword slightly in anticipation of his masters next stroke. The orange glow of the fire illuminated the work space as the twilight fell outside. There was little of the town left outside the smith's walls and few people to appreciate the sunset.

Clang clang, clang clang.

The raiders had come through and burned most of the village. They'd taken nothing, leaving what few treasure the town had to burn with its buildings and it's people. Anybody who had tried to flee had been run down, shot with an arrow or run through with a sword. This, then, was to be the bloody vengeance the injured lord has sworn.

Clang clang, clang clang.

The people had known what was coming. They knew it the minute somebody had decided to throw a rock to emphasize the villagers refusal to comply with the lords latest demands. They were not his property, this land was not his, and they refused every demand he made for the first fruits of all their labor. Somebody had thrown a rock when he was red with rage at their refusal. Somebody else had seen who it was. All refused to give up the perpetrator.

Clang clang, clang clang.

They did not bury their dead and the funeral pyre's would be burning long into the night. The first heating of the metal to make the sword had been in the heat of the pyre of the smith's wife. The ashes from the wood had been mixed in with the sword in an ancient ritual forgotten by many outside the village. The survivors of the attack had all been there to witness it, pouring their hatred, their pain, into the glowing metal that would be destined to see vengeance done.

Clang clang, clang clang.

The sword was taking shape, the metal more pliable than it normally would have been, being drawn into shape by the smith's anger and rage and grief. His daughter had been one of the ones who ran. His son had tried to protect her. She had died. He stood next to the forge, one arm bandaged to his side, intent on his mission, his goal. There would be little time after this night for his apprenticeship.

Clang clang, clang clang.

They forged on into the night, the metal being worked and molded, glowing with magic as well as heat every time it met the fire. The songs of lament lifted outside in the village, the people sending their loved ones up to the gods, with promises of peace and love and vengeance. As midnight neared, the apprentice began to instruct his son on what was to be done. He would have to gain more skill at sword-fighting, learn subterfuge and the ways of the people of the world.

Clang clang, clang clang.

Things would be hard, his father told him. But he would be there for him, always there for him, throughout the whole ordeal. He instructed him to build a pyre after the  whole thing was done and burn the sword. It would survive anything but being placed on a funeral pyre for all the souls it would release would render it down into the ash from the first pyre it was heated in.

Clang clang, clang clang.

The boy nodded, his tears running down his face and splashing on the anvil as he moved the sword slightly, anticipating his father's blow. The sword glowed as midnight approached, becoming brighter than the fire. You know how to finish it, his father said. How to put on the handle, give it an edge. Make it a good one, serviceable, don't let it call attention to itself.

Clang clang, clang clang.

"Bear witness, my boy," the smith said as midnight struck. "Avenge your mother and sister."

Hissssssssss.

The boy watched as the sword they had forged in hate and anger and grief was cooled in his father's heart's blood. A great explosion rent the air and, when he could see again, his father's body had turned to a pile of ash. He took up the sword and finished his fathers work.

Then, he began his own.

Monday, February 25, 2013

Bonus Flash Fiction: The Detective and the Archaeologist


Eliza Carlisle had never given much thought to the ancient Babylonians. So, it’s no surprise that when she first appeared in the middle of a crowded marketplace, she was confused and more than a little pissed off about being there.

A strange man, not wearing near enough clothes, had grabbed her and started babbling at her on the street. Assuming the man was one of the crazy homeless who occasionally inhabit every large city, she did her best to extricate herself from his grasp without setting him off further. The man was strong and began shoving something into her hand that she later recognized as a pocket watch and mumbled “Baker, Baker, help.” When she closed her hand around the object, the man let go of her and stumbled off through the crowd.

It took her a moment to realize she was the one who was wearing the wrong clothes.


“Oy! Come back here!” She called after the man then started shoving her way through the crowd after him. He ducked into an alleyway and she followed quickly after him. She followed him through the maze of the unfamiliar city, rudely shoving people so she could keep following the bouncing head that she couldn’t quite catch up with. When he ducked into a fabric covered doorway, she saw her chance and ducked in behind him.

Going from the hot desert sun into the dark house blinded her long enough for the man to get away from her. By the time her eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting, the only person she could see was a man who looked as out of place as she did.

“Oh good, he found you,” the man said, standing up and handing her a cup.

“Who are you?” Eliza said, taking the cup from him.

“I do realize I’m dressed a bit differently from the last time I saw you, but I should think you’d recognize the person you punched in the middle of a busy London street.”

Her mind raced but, try as she might, she couldn’t recall punching anybody the last time she was in London. “I never punched anybody in London,” she told him. “I haven’t been there since I was 7, anyway, so I’m certain you have the wrong person.”

“Oh,” the man looked at her, his face guilt stricken. “Oh dear. I deserved it then.”

“I’m sure you did, if a strange woman just walked up to you and punched you in the middle of the street.”

“It was you, my dear, just not yet. I know, because you told me to not bother asking for your help when I found the pocket watch.”

“This pocket watch?” She opened her hand to show him the pocket watch the Babylonian had given her.

“That’s the one,” he said, sitting back down on a cushion and taking a sip from his drink. “Please, sit, have some tea. It’s actually quite good.”

Something had been nagging her about him and it suddenly clicked. “You’re British.”

“And you’re American, as evidenced by your appalling manners. Do sit down, time, while fluid, is currently not on our side.”

“Well, excuse me for asking,” she snapped and sat on the cushion opposite him. “You’re not modern British, are you?”

“Strictly speaking, there is no ‘modern British’ right now.” He smiled at her. “But I understand your question and the answer is no, my understanding is that I am from approximately 100 years earlier than you.”

Questions dragged through her head, each not wanting to be asked. “How…” she started than trailed off. He smirked at her and she shook her head. “That’s not important. No, it is important but not particularly relevant to this discussion right now. Why am I here, why are you here and how do we get out of here?”

“You are here because you punched me in the face and mentioned a pocket watch I hadn’t found yet. I’m here because I was shocked to find a working pocket watch when I was on an expedition to find the ancient city of Babylon. As you can see, I found it.” He gestured to the city around him.

“Yes, very good, well done. Now, how do we get out of here?”

“I wonder if you think I brought you here for revenge. If I knew how to get out of here, I would not be here. You seemed to know how to work the watch when last we met.”

“We haven’t met yet.” Eliza sniffed at the tea in her hand.

“And I accused you of bad manners. My name is Sir Richard Baker, archeologist. And you are?”

“You’re a sir?” She laughed. “I am Ms. Eliza Carlisle, private investigator.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Carlisle. Now, if you could, I’d like to go home.”

“Sucks to be you because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

They look at each other in expectation. “Damn,” he says. “I was hoping to not have to live through an ancient battle. There’s an army on the way and the walls aren’t finished. Won’t be for quite some time, I’m afraid.”

Eliza suddenly figured out why she had punched him in the middle of a street in London. She was hard pressed not to punch him right there. “How did you send the guy to me to bring me here?”

“I could tell you a very long, convoluted story but it comes down to, I don’t know. The man who came from you was one of the few people I know here. I mentioned I was lonely, that if I was going to be stuck here, I’d prefer to be stuck here with somebody I had more in common with. He had the watch in his hand and said he would bring me a companion if he could. Then, he disappeared.”

“What were you talking about the first time you held the watch?”

“My desire to see Babylon as it was being built.”

“Did you think to ask it to take you home?”

He opened his mouth and she could see the sharp retort forming on his face then his expression changed to one of chagrin.  

“Didn’t think of that, did you?” She laughed at him.

“Well, now that you have, I’ll have the watch back, thank you.” He put his hand out expectantly.
Eliza smiled and looked down at the watch in her hand. “Maybe I’ll make a wish, then. Since my life was so rudely interrupted because you were an idiot.”

“I do apologize for the inconvenience. Now, if I could just have the watch back, I’ll see to it we get where we need to be.”

“I’ll wish for us to get where we need to be, thank you very much.” The world around her changed abruptly and Eliza Carlisle found herself in the middle of a street in Victorian London. She scrambled out of the road as quickly as she could and very nearly ran into a man who looked very familiar.

“I beg your pardon, miss,” the man said. “Are you all right?”

Eliza cocked her arm back and punched him across the jaw, knocking him to the ground. “You jackass! Leave me alone! And don’t you even think about coming to me for help with that damned pocket watch! I want to go home!”

She found herself back in her apartment, the pocket watch making itself felt in her hand. The urge to check what time it was, what day it was, was overwhelming. It was only the man coming out of her kitchen, dressed in modern clothes and bearing two cups of tea that stopped her.

“It’s about time you got home,” he said, handing her a cup. “We need to start planning the wedding.”

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Flash Fiction Friday: At Ease

Author's Note: This is a work of fiction, inspired by some of the stories I heard from friends and on the news about happenings during and after the Waldo Canyon Wildfire. Thank you to all the firefighters and support who saved so many homes and lives. I apologize for any inaccuracies in the few details I used for my characters.


Captain Lacey Sterling, MD, walked into the mattress store that was blocks from her home, looking for the man she'd been assured would be there. Her sister and brother-in-law had just picked her up from the airport, she'd been awake for 22 hours, arriving home 2 weeks before most of her unit. There had been several other soldiers on the plane home with her, most of them looking at pictures of the damage from the wildfire that had swept through weeks earlier. Though many of the people in her unit were aware of what had happened, the people on that plane had been directly effected by the fire. Some of them were returning to see what could be salvaged from the smoke and water, others had nothing left to return to.

Veterinarian Tanner Sterling stood in the middle of the mattress store and stared at the bed in front of him. It looked good but he wasn't sure it was the right one. He remembered his wife had liked the mattresses that were firm but had a fluffy top. He should have taken a picture of the last bed but he couldn't bear to go near it. The whole thing smelled like smoke and mold and reminded him of the fire. He'd spent the last few weeks cleaning and painting like a mad man whenever he wasn't checking up on his patients who had been affected by the fire. So many ranches and farms had been burned, most of the livestock had managed to get away from the flames but not all of them. No, not all of them.

When Lacey appeared at his side, Tanner wasn't surprised. He hadn't been sleeping very well lately and he kept seeing her everywhere. When she held him and he realized it wasn't a dream, tears welled in his eyes, and panic set his heart racing. The house wasn't done yet. He'd worked so hard to make sure she would have a home to return to, one that would show no trace of the smoke that had billowed through their front windows and out the back, that he almost wanted to put her back on the plane until he could finish making it perfect. The only thing missing was the bed.

"They told us what happened," she said, not reading his mind but knowing him well enough to know where his thoughts were going. "There were videos about where the fire was going, what was going on. I saw the horses on the ridge."

He could still hear the horses screaming as the fire raced over the mountain.

"You were in a lot of the videos, baby. Helping the fire fighters, working with the animals."

"The house isn't ready, yet," he told her, still staring at the bed in front of him.

"I'm amazed it's still standing," she told him, wrapping her arm around his waist and cuddling into his chest. "You did the best anybody could have asked, and so much more. I'm so very proud of you."

He took a deep breath and turned his head to look at the top of hers. This tiny woman who was cuddling up to him was a doctor in the army, a tough cookie by anybody's definition, and it still amazed him that she had chosen him because he made her feel safe. She worked with some of the toughest men in the world but she cuddled with him.

"Barb told me you weren't sleeping well," Lacey said, stroking his arm.

"There isn't a bed, yet," he said.

"I'm sure they can send one up soon, we just have to tell the nice man behind the counter which one we want."

"I couldn't remember which one you liked last time. I thought it was this one but every time I tried to sit on it, it didn't feel quite right."

"There was something missing, I bet, because you were right, this is the one I prefer."

"You were missing. Nothing's quite right without you here."

"Well, I'm here now, so let me help you finish making the house back into a home." She turned and looked at the salesman who had been dancing around nervously, trying to find a way to help her husband. "I'm sure they can get the bed delivered today."

"I'll call and see if we can get it there within the hour, ma'am," the salesman said.

Still not certain that he wasn't just having a very vivid dream, Tanner paid for the bed and started to walk out toward his car. Lacey took his arm and steered him toward her sisters car. "Neither of us is really in a condition to drive, babe. Enjoy the driver and we'll come down and get the car later."

The drove to the house and the mattress truck pulled in behind them. The salesman had made good on his promise and the delivery drivers had put them to the front of the line.

Barb directed the delivery guys where to put the bed and went upstairs with them to make sure everything was where it was supposed to go. Tanner walked his wife through everything that had happened to the house and everything he had done to set it back to rights after the evacuation orders had been lifted.

Lacey waved to her sister as she left and gently led her husband upstairs to see the bed. She helped him undress and tucked him into the bed.

"Come to bed," he told her, as she went towards the door.

"I'm still wearing Afghanistan," she told him. "I was going to take a shower."

"Take off the uniform and come be my wife," he demanded, half-asleep.

"Yes, sir," she smiled at him. She undressed quickly and got under the covers with him.

"At ease, soldier," Tanner Sterling said, and drifted off to sleep, his wife following him quickly into slumber.