Pregnancy and publishing go hand in hand this May

Maybe you haven't (but probably have) heard of it, that unexpected pregnancy tends to mess up peoples' lives. So, last November (in the middle of my first NaNoWriMo challenge) when I realized my husband and I were going to have a baby I experienced a minor panic attack. And, boy, it was the first of many. (I still won NaNoWriMo, though, just sayin'.) Don't get me wrong. I'm not afraid of kids. On the contrary, I'm great with them, always have been. The issue here was pregnancy itself. I was 24 (still am) and I wasn't prepared, not to mention I didn't have a clue of what was waiting for me. So, naturally, I turned to men's best friend, the world wide web. During my little research I completely forgot about writing. Suddenly, it didin't seem so important anymore.

After spending a few nights of reading about all the horrors, I realized having a baby is a little more complicated than F.R.I.E.N.D.S. (yes, the series) claimed it to be. I'm not going to go into details here, but believe me, these past seven months taught me to respect motherhood. And just when I got used to the whole thing, read about ten books on the subject and started to feel confident, shit hit the fan with a force so strong even master Yoda hadn't encountered. My doctor informed me that I was going to be bedridden for the remaining three months.

Doing nothing is boring, unpleasant even. But being unable to do anything simply drives you mad. I spent a couple of weeks lying in my bed and waiting for time to pass, literally. Of course, I would do anything if it was for the sake of my baby boy, but loosing my sanity surely wasn't going to win me the mom of the year trophy. As the days slid through my hands depression started to take over me. I felt like a helpless, useless fool, while my husband worked his ass off. And that wasn't good for either of us. So, I decided there had to be something even I could do. The answer was quite simple: I could still write. I found my way back to an old passion that I'd abandoned for the last few months.

Here's the deal: to re-evoke some sense of accomplishment I am going to publish the first short story I had ever written. I just need a couple of weeks to make it presentable and then I'm going down the self-pubbing slide. Wish me luck and see you in a few weeks.

This is the cover you'll want to look for to take a peek into a forgotten world. Follow Kurjak, the wolf to his last hunt and watch him unite with his long lost family. Stay tuned for more details and a decent blurb.


Oh, and one more thing, a wish that I truly mean: Happy Mother's Day to every mom!



What do you think of the cover? Share your thoughts in the comment section below!

Konayuki (see the picture below)

I like that word. It has a nice ring to it. Unfortunately, konayuki has little to do with my newest discovery, but it still deserves a pedestal. You'll see why, but before that there's this little something I want to share with you all.

Klout.

People at Klout aim for nothing less, but to show each and every person the social impact (s)he makes online. In other words they measure the influence one makes sharing, recommending or creating content. And here's the best part: Klout is actually good at it. They won't only throw some random numbers at you. Well, they will. But my point is, that with those you'll have a clearer picture of yourself as a social (network) being.

Back to an old point, here's why konayuki sticks out of the crowd:

<div class="sarcasm">Insert Your Text Here</div>

Oh yeah, I went there. I made fun of code. Bold, huh? And it wasn't that easy either. Anyway, this can come handy till the actual sarcasm font is invented.

This is going to be one of those posts where the title has nothing to do with the actual content. Today I am talking about something blue (as in my favorite color) that awakes the fake-ish feminist in me turning a nice girl into a walking rage comic (see the picture).

It is, of course, Smurfette and all the ignorant people who accuse her of being a slot (typo intended). I mean, come on! Why all the other Smurfs are happy males (excluding Grouchy Smurf)? Because blessed are the poor in spirit for not realizing our blue friends are all archetypes of everyday people, mere virtues that only together can add up to a complete personality. As in Papa Smurf is Wisdom, Brainy Smurf is Know-it-all-ness, their names pretty much speak for themselves. In this picture Smurfette is the Female.

To understand femininity as a trait we have to bring up our good ol' friend's name. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Yeah, it is Karl Marx. Some say that Smurfs are living the dream, the communist dream, that is. Smurf Village is the perfect realization of the Marxist utopia with Papa Smurf embodying Marx himself. There's no money, property belongs to everyone and labor divisions couldn't be cleaner (see Handy Smurf, Farmer Smurf etc.). However, apart from currency this paradise lacks one more ingredient: women.

Thank God, this is about to change. Which will hopefully silence at least a few ignorant individual and I can push back the little raging feminist where it belongs: a deep corner of my mind. With the new Smurf movie (supposedly the first of a trilogy) a new era has began. That not only will give a deep explanation of Gargamel's past, but will let femininity rock the Smurf world. Can't wait to see that happen. Bound to be smurftastic!

Sweet September

Finally, I can say it out loud: Summer is officially over. Which means the end of the unbearable heat and sunshine dust. I've always preferred cold and dark places. Once a teacher of mine suggested the cemetery as the ideal home for me. I felt a little offended then, but if I think about it, he really needed guts to say that to a pupil and I respect that.

I'm taking great risks as well. At this precise moment I should be studying for an exam, and yet not a single shiet is given. Instead, I turned off all the lights, opened the window and as I write I listen to the rain and other noises of the night. I live in a village, so there's not much of it. This is my way of celebrating the coming of my favorite season.

Autumn. Read it out loud: autumn. Even the sound of the word is beautiful. Autumn. The season that celebrates death with the promise of rebirth. If I die I'd like to do it with as much grace and beauty as the trees around me every year. (Note: Trees are perennial plants, they don't actually die, but rather hibernate during the winter.) If anything, autumn teaches me (personally, but there's always room for more students) that the end of a life is not something I should mourn, but celebrate. It all breaks down to this: it's not the finality of it that matters, but the fact that life happened. Maybe.

Now, as I reached the level of optimism my body and mind can handle for the day I leave you with George Elliot's words of wisdom:

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.

A speak out with your geek out moment

As part of something way bigger and much nobler cause than my attempt to entertain I am about to share an interesting story full of twists and unexpected turns.

I've never been called a geek. True story. Well, mostly because the word in my mother's tongue doesn't exist. Unfortunately, this doesn't mean that a few of my habits wasn't frowned upon with my parents leading the way.

My father and mother had a hard time accepting that their precious little daughter refuses to grow up by constantly watching animated movies of all sorts. They were convinced that as an older sister I set a bad example for my sister, Laura. Long story short, I got my fair share of criticism.

At this point I have to admit my scale was indeed wide. I could sit and watch everything from Two stupid dogs and Powerpuff girls to The Beauty and the Beast. But as I grew older and my taste sophisticated ever so slightly I discovered Hayao Miyazaki's work and realized nothing I did till that point was in vain. I won't go into details about the brilliance of the man and his animation studio (not to mention Madhouse). That's something everyone has to see for him/herself.

My point here is that one day Laputa: Castle in the Sky was airing on TV. By that time I was already familiar with Miyazaki's film and managed (using superhuman forces) to convince my parents to give it a chance. I mean it won an Oscar, for Pete's sake. They can't deny its worth.

Unsurprisingly neither of my parents was delighted with it and by mutual agreement we changed the channel. The moral of this two-sided disappointment (parents in the film, me in them) made me realize one thing: I'm not the weirdo here. On the contrary. My folks are nice people, but they are undeniably narrow minded. And for that they are missing out on many great things.

Since that day I embrace my geekiness. Calling someone a geek can only be interpreted as a compliment, because those are the people who understand the world to its fullest.

Which, in itself, is the single most adventurous journey one can dream to accomplish.

What do you think of my conclusion? Any pros or cons?