Hello Again...

wip novel part 3.2 !

Got the next part of my wip novel up in @bennuma-crossing !

I gotta say here, I really really really enjoy switching pov characters from time to time because I absolutely love exploring the ways that different characters will look at things differently from each other, see others in varying ways, and spend their time thinking about different things. If you like that sort of thing, too, please check out my story. :)

Also, as always, if anyone prefers blogspot format for reading long posts, it's also here:

(someday I might make my own website or put my writing in other places to make it more widely accessible, but for now it's just in those two places)

Because @haleywhaley2797 's response was amusing, and so are cosmic rainbow cats. :D

In response to @haleywhaley2797 's comment on the "Read the Fine Print (if you can) writing prompt posted in @voice-of-bennuma wherein it was suggested that when an artist drank an unknown potion and was about to be possessed.... it was a cat that was summoned who desired tuna, tuna art.

"The looming cosmic psychedelic hyperdimensional galactic space kitty has caught you spying. What will you do?"

...maybe someday I might draw a better looming space kitty... this quick doodle doesn't do justice to how it looks in my head, ha.

(mixed media; was pencil sketched and then drawn over with size S pitt artist pen and colored with metallic color permanent marker pens, colored sharpies, and colored pencils (crayola). Slight digital adjustments in color and contrast and cropped photo)

WIP novel progress

(see @bennuma-crossing for most recent and all previous sections of the story, skip pinned intro post if desired)

Starting chapter 3 of my WIP-titled story "The Crossing" ...about a camp of people who fled a bronze-age equivalent war zone in a magic-deprived portion of a fantasy world, who come across a traveler from a different (magic-rich) part of the world, who shows up and helps the people from the camp when they need it most, only asking to travel with them in return.

Who is this stranger, where did she come from, and what is her real objective? How will they find a new home where they can live in peace and safety, and what part will be played by the (arguably) most broken man in the camp?

(note: though originally intended to be an adventure story, future chapters may contain a love story, but rest assured I will be keeping it SFW)

also, if anyone happens to prefer blogspot format for reading long posts, you can find the same story on my blog here:

i wish

to be a small kitten in the pines 🌲

Read the Fine Print (if you can)

An obscure artist of some sort gains sudden attention and fame from creating a series of new art pieces entirely different from before, with each piece including cryptic markings or symbols of a sort that nobody can decipher and the artist mysteriously declines to comment on.

An old school friend of the artist visits, and the artist tells this friend something that no one else has been told: the artist does not know what the symbols are, because all of the new art pieces were made while under the influence of something the artist says is "like absinthe, but not" ...and the artist afterwards can never remember anything that happened for the entire night after drinking it.

The artist agrees to let the old friend stay over and do an experiment, wherein the idea is that the friend would keep out of the way until the artist got to the point of putting the cryptic symbols on a new art piece, and then come out and ask the artist what they mean. They are hoping that the artist will be able to give an answer at that time, and then the next day, the friend can tell back to the artist what the answer was.

So they go to a very strange shop in a remote area and buy a bottle of the drink that has no name and where the shopkeeper always acts like it's the first time the artist has been there, in spite of being a very regular customer by now. That night, the friend sits someplace hidden but with a view of the entire room, and prepares to watch and wait while the artist plans to drink the drink and spend the night making art...

...and is surprised to find that when the artist takes the first drink, it's actually a potion that summons someone or something, that plans to possess the artist. However, becoming aware that there's someone else hiding in a corner of the room, things take a different turn.

(post a reply if you have any fun ideas about what might happen... or if you play with making a short story of this, please do make a mention of it so I can read it)

Writing is Life

If writing is life to you, then you have a right to identify as a writer.

New Year's Declaration: I am a writer. I know this because I need to write, I am not ok when I can't write, or am otherwise prevented from writing. It doesn't matter whether anyone else likes my writing, but I do want to share it in case someone might like my stories. Likewise I don't care whether anyone says I can't call myself a writer if I haven't yet achieved official publication status or monetary compensation for my writing. Visual artists can call themselves artists because they create art, regardless of whether they have achieved a status of supporting themselves at it professionally. I believe in the same for writers. If you write and really care about your writing, then you are a writer if you want to be and believe you are, if writing is a part of you, in your soul.

New Year's Resolution: I resolve to no longer apologize to anyone for doing what I have to do in order to be able to keep writing, and commit to writing. If I don't keep in touch with people as much as they want, if I don't take care of my health as much as people think I should, if there is any other thing that I have to do or not do in order to keep writing, that is for me to decide, and no one else. It doesn't matter if people don't understand why I do the things I do; if it helps me to keep writing, then it is necessary for me, even at the expense of other things. I will not accept guilt based on anyone else wishing I were different. I have to be who I am.

Besides, there's not much else I can reasonably do anymore anyway. I have to write.

Writing is Life.

Testing things out...

Although an attempt to reblog from a side blog to here previously had not worked when I tried it on the computer (it had only reblogged it to the very same side blog the post was from originally, go figure)

...apparently I can reblog from a side blog to the main one from the phone app.

I am sure this is not news to most people, ha... just saying that's what I'm playing with

To everyone: please do not use my "asks" or any other way of messaging or mentioning me, in order to ask me to donate to you, or to help promote your donation requests.

1. If you genuinely need help and are not involved in a scam, I wish you all the best and pray that you can find real help, even if it isn't what you expect. HOWEVER...

2. I cannot reblog or otherwise promote any fundraising requests without first researching each and every single one, to determine not only whether the request is legitimate, but also whether or not a person requesting aid is using a legitimate site and not one that may be scamming them. I currently am mentally and emotionally unable to put in the time and effort required for such research, so therefore I can neither validate nor recommend any fundraising efforts from anyone.

3. I personally am unable to donate to anybody, because I simply do not have money. I myself am destitute and in need of funds. I cannot in good conscience attempt to compete with all the people who are simply asking for donations, but one day maybe if people wish to help support my writing, I hope to earn enough with it to get by.

Please don't anyone hold this against me; it doesn't mean that I don't care, and it does not mean that I think everyone is scamming, and it does not mean I am against people trying to raise funds for their families or other causes. I'm just stating what my limits currently are, and why it is wasted effort for anyone to ask me to donate or to help them promote their fundraising.

I've been thinking...

hypothetically... if I self-identify as reclusive, and actually start telling people that and own the fact that is part of who I am and suggest that people should accept it as 'normal' for me...

...then am I, in fact, going INTO a 'recluse' closet, rather than coming 'out' of one?

Basically, am I more of a "closet recluse" if I am 'in' the closet about it, or out of it?

(I'm really the same me either way, so I guess that's what matters most.)

Anyway, it just strikes me as funny, the way the semantics look to me in a visually-interpolated way. Wouldn't a closet recluse be someone who pretends not to be, and thus is not hiding in a closet? On the other hand, owning it can be like hiding in a closet, asking people not to open the door?

ok, bye bye (for now)

Rotisserie Chicken

Do you ever feel like one, when you are trying to sleep but constantly wake up and are feeling too warm and have to turn over every time?

Also: Have posted section 2.5 of my WIP novel in my own personal fantasy world of Bennuma, for which I have done extensive world-building. This currently-working-on WIP novel is working-titled as "The Crossing" and can be found @bennuma-crossing