dragonyphoenix: Blackadder looking at scraps of paper, saying "It could use a beta" (Feminazi)
Last week a friend asked what I’m working on with my writing. Well, that answer’s not so interesting because that story isn’t gelling. What’s more interesting is the story I’ve already written. It’s for an anthology and explore the idea that we can choose how we react to situations. That’s what I meant the story to be about anyway. I’m not sure if that idea came through!

The story features a woman with dementia and what she remembers is WWII, when she was able to get work as a welder, and after, when working opportunities shut down for women. Her story was strongly influenced by a documentary, The Life and Times of Rosie the Riveter. I saw this way back in 1992 - shortly before A League of Their Own came out - and I can still see one of the woman plaintively saying, “All I wanted was to weld one little gate.”

This woman, my character, has felt cheated ever since she’s been turned out of her job and now, stuck in dementia, can’t get away her negative feelings. Some of what we see is how she limited her daughter, passing along the “women can’t do” message with “girls can’t study chemistry.” Her daughter, however, even though her choices were limited by what she heard from her mother, is happy with her life.

Both of these characters are me. The mother reflects how I felt at my last job. I was in a bad headspace and had no idea how to get past it. I’ve had therapy since then and I meditate regularly so I’m in a better headspace but, even so, I think the daughter represents whom I want to be. She knows her path. She’s learning new things. She’s happy. I don’t yet know what my path will be, but I hope I’ll be as contented as this daughter is with hers.
dragonyphoenix: Blackadder looking at scraps of paper, saying "It could use a beta" (drac)
You can see how well I follow directions. I shared more than a single line and what I did share sure as hell isn't random.

1.
  Giles didn’t bloody well give a rat’s arse, and yet here he was, stuck listening to Flutie ramble on about the school mascot. “So I was thinking we could get a razorback.”
  “I’m sorry,” Giles interrupted. “A what?”
  Miss Calendar, who looked as happy to be there as Giles felt, graced the table with a sarcastic grin. “A feral pig. Razorback is an American colloquialism.”
  “That’s the Sunnydale school mascot? A boar that was once domesticated and has since run wild? Surely that’s backwards. I thought the point of school was to civilize the little monsters.”
  “A razorback is mean, ready for action.” Flutie actually gave a mock growl.
  “I stand corrected,” Giles replied. “Mean and ready for action is definitely what we should be instilling into the students.” - In a Corner of My Soul

2.
  “There are polar bears in the Potomac.”
  In an old fairytale, when the evil sister speaks, toads fall from her lips. “Don’t be an idiot.” Those words fell from my lips. I would have preferred toads. Christie, golden girl, queen bee of Langley high, paused just a moment as her cohorts, the three bitchiest girls on the cheerleading squad after Christie herself, turned to gawk at the sacrificial lamb, which would be me. Marcia, taking advantage of her chance to move up the totem pole, gasped at my faux pas. - Spring Fling

3.
  The big guy looked up and a slow grin rose across his face. “Is it you? Finally?”
  “Is it me what?”
  He rose to his feet. He was so bit it was like seeing a mountain move. “What do you want boy?”
  I wasn’t even eighteen then but I’d become what I’d thought of as a man years earlier. I’d killed, well, never mind. “I want to know if you’re crazy, sitting out in the open like that.”
  He laughed a giant belly roll of a laugh. “That’s one way to look at it.”
  “What’re you doing?”
  “Meditating.”
  Meditating? What the fuck?
  “The world’s dead. What else should I be doing?”
  Nobody had put it so clear to me before. The world’s dead. Just like my brothers were dead. Just like my cousins were dead. Stone cold and not coming back.” - this one’s untitled
dragonyphoenix: Blackadder looking at scraps of paper, saying "It could use a beta" (Francine angel)
Title: She Eats Brains
Rating: PG because sort of gross?
Note:
Note: I'd started to write a demon. I'm not sure I succeeded but I did come up with a very creepy image.

Concrit: Please, in Comments
Disclaimer: They aren’t mine, not yet, but they will be… once I’ve taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha!




She'll tell you, long before you're bound in her kitchen, that zombies, in the folklore, do not eat brains. Yes, zombies are depicted as mindless creatures but that doesn't mean they are inclined to feast on the thoughts of others. The story came out of Hollywood, based on a series of gruesome, unsolved murders.

Zombies don't even exist, not really. Yes, monsters exist but zombies, vampires, and werewolves are a far cry from what's really out there.

She's not a zombie, but she is a monster. She eats brains because she can cut open the skull and spoon out the brains while her victims still live. She eats brains to hear the screaming.

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