Beckah-Rah

Updates and such

2012-02-10T13:51:00.001-06:00

Has it really been over two weeks since I blogged? My apologies; I neglect you all shockingly. Although, in my defense, I was totally oinking on self-hatred and cake, as Goblin's Humiliator so aptly suggests. But, at long last, I have dragged myself out of the trench of disappointment, self-hatred, and cake I'd immersed myself in since my heartbreaking rejection letter, and I am now back on that querying horse.

So, updates. It’s been a crazy few weeks, that’s for true. Our old roommates moved back in (huzzah!), I got a raise (DOUBLE HUZZAH!), my father-in-law popped in for a surprise visit, and I found out that I have PCOS, which has bestowed upon me both acne and insulin resistance (frowny face). Which, in a way, is good. I knew I didn't eat enough to be as overweight as I am, but you can't say that, because no one ever believes you. But now I can, because a doctor told me so. I was not overeating, at least not to the degree that my waistline would suggest. It was my ovaries all along. My poor, cyst-ridden, hateful ovaries, sending out their dirty little hormonal signals for my body to produce copious amounts of insulin and facial oils.

My doctor suggested I go on a low-carb diet, which I started last week and I LOOOOVE. The last time I went on it, I lost 60 pounds in 3 months and felt better than I had in years. Let me say that again. 60 pounds in 3 months. You read that right. The only reason I quit the diet last time was because it’s expensive. But, thankfully, now that I’ve gotten a raise, we can afford for me to do it again. I’ve been on it for about a week now, and I’ve already lost 5 pounds. It would be more, but I had to take that stupid glucose tolerance test earlier in the week, which threw my diet off for a couple of days. Ah, well.

Before you even ask: It raises GOOD cholesterol, not bad, because without carbohydrates your body can’t hold on to saturated fats (in most cases; in a few instances it slightly raises bad cholesterol, but it’s completely overridden by how much it boosts good cholesterol). It’s also good for your triglycerides and lowers blood pressure, not to mention the staggering weight loss and, in some cases, the fact that it can almost eradicate Type 2 diabetes.

Yes, I do eat bacon and steak and eggs and cheese, but I also eat chicken and turkey and tons of vegetables. I eat broccoli, salad, cucumbers, mushrooms, green beans, asparagus, and/or black olives every day. I never eat so many veggies as I when I’m on the Atkins diet. The best part, though, is that I don’t have to starve myself or exercise like a demon in order to slowly (if I’m lucky) lose a piddling 1-2 pounds per week. I’m never hungry and even if I don’t work out, I still lose weight. Although I should work out. And I will. When it gets warmer outside.

As for cravings…I never much cared for bread and I can live without pasta, though I did enjoy potatoes. The one thing I REALLY miss is sugar, because I LOVE me some sweets. But at least there are some awesome sugar-free candies etc. out there to help satisfy my sweet tooth.

And, last but certainly not least, I got a partial request from an agent for Eyes of Stone! WOO-HOO and TRIPLE HUZZAH!! I also sent a query to a publisher, although it was with my previous, less-awesome query letter. That older one was was ok, but I think the new one better represents the feel of the book. I haven't hear back yet, of course, but we'll see. Also, I learned that not everyone in QLH knows what the duck they’re talking about.

Alright. I didn’t mean for this post to degenerate into a post about dieting, but it happened anyway. I’m going to go eat some more meat and wait for my pants to get looser.

Have a great weekend!! :D

Rejected, Again.

2012-01-25T09:47:00.001-06:00

I awoke this morning to the typical shriek of my alarm clock, groped for my phone (naturally), and…yep, there it was, at long last. My rejection letter from Angry Robot Books. Something to the effect of “the writing was good, characters were good, but it just didn’t quite have that AR feel, and yes, it really is just that vague, but please feel free to query any future works with us,” blah, blah, blah. It took all my strength just to get out of bed.

I knew it was coming. When the editor posted on the main AR thread over at AW that anyone from Open Door Month who hadn’t heard back should email him, I knew it didn’t bode well for me. When he sent out mass emails saying we'd hear back in a few days, I figured that was pretty much it. I doubted I was going to get an email that read, “We loved it so much we completely forgot about it.” Yeah…no. But that didn’t keep my heart from plummeting when I read the actual rejection email.

I carefully avoided the subject with my husband when I got up, because I’m a grouch and a half anyway in the mornings and bursting into tears or somehow blaming it all on him was surely not going to help things. He still doesn’t know, and I’m sorry about that, David. I love you! So I got into my car, put “Someone Like You” on repeat, and damned to Hell every car I saw all the way to work.

I suck, you suck, everybody sucks but me, %$#&$ ^#$@*$ EVERYBODY!!!!

So I’m blogging about my pain and my (for the moment) utter conviction that I’m a hack and I’ll never write again, and trying to refrain from deleting everything I’ve ever written, including that biology paper I’ve been working on.

You see, real-life Becky is an even-keeled, dispassionate automaton, but virtual Becky has extreme emotional knee-jerk reactions all over the internet that she regrets ten minutes later. Real-life Becky sits very still and keeps her trap shut when she’s upset. Virtual Becky goes on rampages and killing sprees and makes bad decisions. So real-life Becky is trying very hard to keep her foul-mouthed and impulsive alter-ego under control until she calms down.

I don’t suck. I know that. Except, you know, I TOTALLY DO SUCK and I should stop submitting anything to anyone ever again. I can’t even get a short story published. I mean…I have, but not for months, and not for pay. But the version AR rejected was almost a year old, and it’s been through several betas and revisions since then, including some by the other Anxious Appliances, who are all literary geniuses. Heck, when I change a minor spelling error I look back in disgust on the previous version and hate myself for ever sending it out. I gave EoS to my coworker to read yesterday, as she is a fantasy reader. She put it on her Nook, opened it up, and didn’t move for twenty minutes. So it can’t be THAT bad, right? RIGHT?

WRONG! It SUCKS and you KNOW IT! It’s cliché and stupid and tropic and everybody hates it except non-writer people who don’t know any better. AAH! Give me that hard drive, I’m going to KILL IT IN THE FACE!!

Now I have to decide whether I want to rework EoS into a YA or submit it again as is. I don’t know yet, and as I mentioned before, virtual Becky makes very hasty and often very bad decisions when she's upset. So I’m going to give myself a couple of days to be sad and hate myself, and then I’ll do…I don’t know, something.

I wish I drank.

New Addition to my Writing Pantheon

2012-01-19T16:15:00.006-06:00

We welcome and beg mercy from Titivillus, the lord of typographical errors, delinquent letters, and superfluous language!

Legends say he lurks in monasteries, whispering into scribes' ears and filling his sack with the errors they make. No doubt we've all had run-ins with this mischievous "patron demon of writing errors," but perhaps by including him in my list of patron saints, gods, and spirits of writing, he will be appeased and leave us in peace?

He is known by other names throughout the world as well:

Chochlik Drukarski - Poland;
Tryckfelsnisse - Sweden;
Trykkleif - Norway;
Sætternissen - Denmark;
Painovirhepaholainen - Finland;
Gazapos - Spain;
A Nyomda ördöge - Hungary;
and Druckfehlerteufelchen - Germany.

No wonder, with crazy, unpronounceable words like those!!

Check out my whole list HERE, and, as always, feel free to contact me if you know of a writing-related patron, deity, etc. that I've left out.

Or read more about Titivillus at these sites:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Titivillus

http://www.waywarde.com/titivillus/titivillus.html

Boycott Game of Thrones??

2012-01-13T15:54:00.000-06:00

Boycott Game of Thrones!?

Did that get your attention? It sure grabbed mine.

I don’t believe I’ve ever been so impressed. As I read this incredible article—and there’s simply no other word for it—I couldn’t help but answer some of the outstanding questions it posed.

Yes, the article is on a satirical website. But I’ve heard too many arguments just like this, and once I got going, I couldn’t shut myself off. And—frankly—I’d already written it.

It’s not that far off the mark from what so many crazies out there really do believe, so I decided to put it up anyway, with the disclaimer that this is a satire of a satire. I got a whole “Inception” thing going on.

Enjoy.

(Read the whole article here: www.Christwire.com - 12 Reasons to Boycott Game of Thrones in 2010)

12 Reasons to Boycott Game of Thrones in 2012

“1. Sexual abnormality, including incest and lesbianism, appears in graphic detail.
From casual rape to group orgies, each episode of Game of Thrones has something astonishing for viewers. For many children, this will be the first time they are introduced to wanton fornication. Will they choose to experiment like this in real life?”

You just ignore that MA rating on a premium cable channel. Turn off those parental controls so the children don’t miss out on this early morning preschool adventure. Because even though Mom & Dad encourage the kids to watch any old HBO original series, this is surely the first time they’ve been exposed to “wanton fornication.” And kids never experiment without gratuitous and explicit prompting. And if HBO is going to market this show as a sexier "Dora the Explorer," who am I to prevent the children from watching it?

Also, I never knew that the words “appear” and “glorify” were synonyms. Thanks for clearing this up.

“2. Witchcraft is presented as empowering while Christian values are utterly insulted.
Deadly potions and menacing spirits dominate the storyline, but there is no mention of Jesus despite the fact that His love was the backbone of wisdom in the Middle Ages.”

At first I, too, thought this show was set in Europe. I can suspend my disbelief and accept that zombies, dragons, giant wolves, decade-long-summers/winters, fictional countries, and even the thousand-foot-tall wall of ice were (and are) a part of everyday European life. But the idea that any overland travel through one country in Europe could take a month? Please. I wasn’t born yesterday.

“3. There is far too much violence and this prevents the overall plot from ever becoming compelling. Do we really need to see all these bloody close-ups of beheadings and elaborate jousts? It just doesn’t contribute anything educational to the viewing experience.”

If you’re watching HBO for educational reasons, you’re doing it wrong. Although I’ve always found jousting obscene. If the Lord wanted us to ride horses, why did He invent spaceships?

“4. Emilia Clarke is such an untalented actress that her only role in the show is to be eye candy for pedophiles. This pretty young girl unfortunately lacks the intellect or the sophistication to appear on prime time television. The producers seem to know this and require her to disrobe in every scene. Her gentle, undeveloped teenage body does not evoke womanhood, but the innocence of a lost child, alone on the side of a highway and ripe for the picking.”

Daenarys? An innocent child ripe for the picking? Ridiculous. Every legal-age young woman longs for the day when her abusive older brother will force her to marry a foreign warlord in exchange for a chance to reclaim the home she cares nothing about. And those two or three scenes where she was topless totally turned me into a lesbian for a full three weeks. I was halfway through the divorce proceedings before its demonic effects wore off.

“5. By depicting the traditional heterosexual family unit as dysfunctional and a socialistic revolutionary army as an ideal alternative, the show reveals its underlying communist bias.
Should it come as any surprise that author George R. R. Martin, a power broker in liberal Hollywood, named the dominating spirit of these soldiers “The Red God”?”

Yes, all those homosexual families were WAY too happy and loving—TOTALLY unbelievable—and those Starks were absolute monsters. I mean, come on…what cheated-on wife HASN’T welcomed her husband’s bastard into her home with open arms? And are we really supposed to believe that heterosexual marriages—especially politically-arranged ones—don’t result in deliriously happy families every single time?

“6. Actor Peter Dinklage, who plays a dwarf on the show, has become the poster child for sodomy amongst America’s youths. Children identify with Dinklage because of his small size and comical accent, but his obsession with anal penetration crosses the boundaries into pure propaganda. How many children will watch the little man and want to try his grunty thrusts at home?”

This poses an interesting argument about whether he really is a dwarf, or if he just plays one on TV. And I, too, share these concerns that several seconds of iffy, soft-core, maybe-sodomy-but-probably-just-doggy-style dwarf lovin’ will transform an entire generation of America’s youth into orgy-starved catamites.

“7. At times, the series appears to be little more than an excuse to display illicit homosexual scenarios. Flamboyant costumes, effeminate longhaired men, boys shaving each other’s armpits… Add to this the voluptuous, swarmy acting style of gay porn star Kit Harington (who plays sycophant Jon Snow) and you’ll feel like you’ve been transported to a San Francisco bathhouse full of the apes from Star Trek.”

From dictionary.com: Syc·o·phant: noun: a self-seeking, servile flatterer; fawning parasite.

I didn’t know that “sycophant” describes someone who forswears ever having a family so he can commit himself to a lifetime of service defending his country. Although I’m sure no one in Middle Age Europe (where this story totally takes place) ever had long hair or flamboyant costumes. Codpieces, shimmering suits of armor, lacy cravats, and jester’s motley were only invented to humiliate the red man. I’m pretty sure that’s right.

Although that comment about being “transported to a San Francisco bathhouse full of the apes from Star Trek” is exquisite. And absolutely correct. The entire Game of Thrones series is, scene-for-scene, no different than watching gay orangutans in Star Trek costumes have drunken orgies in a San Francisco bathhouse.

“8. The Irish actors willfully glamorize severe alcoholism. The ignominy of Ireland has always been the weakness of its people when it comes to alcohol indulgence. Why must Games of Thrones attempt to find humor in such a national disgrace?”

First, I shouldn’t be surprised that someone who feels comfortable making fun of dwarves in a public forum would also be a racist. Second, I’m getting sick of saying that this show did not take place in Europe, so there are no Irish characters in Game of Thrones. Third, you’re right. Every alcoholic in the show was a paragon of morality and virtue. Drinking was never once portrayed as a vice, and it never EVER came back to bite them later. King Robert’s death could in no way be attributed to the fact that he was stumbling-down drunk during a boar hunt.

“9. Pet wolves and dragons mirror demonic spirit guides in pagan cosmology.
When you pair up children with conduits of divination, you are inviting them to experiment in spiritually reckless ways. Sadly, atheism and Satanism await them down this path.”

Look, you have to start teaching kids early on that pets are only to be used in Satanic rituals. How else will they become the world’s youngest and most powerful atheist warlocks? I can’t do this alone, people.

“10. The show is incredibly difficult for adults to understand. Most parents will find the thick European accents of the actors confusing. The story, vamped up from the original book, is frustrating for its leaps of logic and implausible romantic scenes. The producers of Games seem to understand this and have crafted the series so that it intentionally turns away older viewers. Should we be suspicious that they have worked so hard to have some private alone time with America’s children?”

It’s all so clear to me now. This show must be aimed at children, because it’s just too smart and challenging for adults. No adult wants to think. No adult believes in implausible romance (there’s nothing more realistic than a Harlequin novel or the first few minutes of a porno). And the British accent is harder to understand than ancient Egyptian calculus.

But you show me a child who says he doesn’t enjoy multiple convoluted plotlines, dozens of characters, hours of dialogue, and beautiful scenery, and I’ll show you a liar. Game of Thrones might as well be a Spongebob Christmas special.

“11. There are no positive role models. It may sound a bit old fashioned, but what ever happened to the strong male figures we had on shows like Little House on the Prairie and Touched by an Angel? Instead we have Littlefinger and androgynous Joffrey Baratheon prancing about as heroes for today’s confused young men who appear to be insanely obsessed with this outrageous series.”

And why isn’t watching “Dexter” more like grocery shopping? Why isn’t the song “Get Low” more like washing my hair? Why do twelve-year-old-boys look like twelve-year-old boys, instead of like Sean Connery? Why isn’t my child learning more life lessons from pizza boxes?

“12. The moody, dark cinematography will make teens depressed. Many youth subculture groups, including Goths and Skinheads, prefer to inhabit the world of the night. In darkness they find convenient cover to master their addiction to drugs and sexual violence. Does Games of Thrones actively promote marijuana usage and rape? Should parents really sit idly by as we await the answer to this important question?”

That’s right, because teenagers have to find excuses for being depressed and smoking weed. Most of them were super happy and not at all rebellious until this show came along—a show clearly better aimed at preteens than Twilight—and none of them knew what rape was until Game of Thrones made it look so darn fun. But you couldn’t swing a direwolf familiar at a gay family orgy/birthday party without hitting a Satanist who's sodomizing a pre-teen while toking up some Hawaii Skunk. They call it Hawaii Skunk, too, because this show is totally set in Europe.

For the record, I am a devout Christian and there are things on the show I could do without. I don’t enjoy looking at women’s breasts or watching simulated sex of any kind, gay or otherwise. And I would never let my children watch this show. But that’s the difference between being a child and being an adult, now isn’t it? Grown-ups can do things that kids can’t. You don’t want your kids to see you having sex with your spouse, but that doesn’t mean you should stop doing it. I can enjoy a movie, TV show, or book series without insisting they be Bible stories. And if I was going to talk about how horrible a television show is, I’d at least watch it first.

(Once again, I must reiterate that this is a satirical reply to a satirical article, but it’s so realistic that I couldn’t resist answering it as though it were real!)

Finally back!

2012-01-10T09:26:00.003-06:00

My apologies, everyone, for ignoring my blog (and all of you) so shockingly. You know how it goes; holidays, parties, work, watching reruns of Squidbillies and Dexter. Busy, busy, busy.

So here’s a quick recap of the last few weeks:

My mother-in-law bought us a shed! Huzzah! Then David and his brother put it together, which allowed us to move the lawnmower etc. out of the garage/bar/billiard room, so we could finally finish painting & hanging up bar/billiard room-related décor. Below is a picture of the shed, a glorious little resin bug/weatherproof number. Yes, I know the placement in the yard looks random, but it’s actually the flattest part of our backyard. When I’m feeling less lazy we’ll go buy some boards and cinder blocks and move it somewhere more appropriate.

Also, I decorated both our guest bedroom & bathroom. Until now, they’ve been unadorned and uninhabited, filled with mismatched towels and excess furniture. But then I got 2 weeks off work and a free bed & desk, and I got to work. So I painted and raided several Wal-Marts’s and Hobby Lobbys's clearance sections, and ta-da! Here they are now, all blue and inviting and pretty! They're not completely done yet (are they ever?), but that, of course, requires more money, which I do not have right now. I especially like the rhomboid flash of light on the wall from that mirror on the bed, which I still haven't hung yet.

Also, my Mom got me a Kindle Fire for Christmas! SQUEEEEEEEE! I put the full Office app on there, so now I can work on my books whenever and wherever I like. Tis awesome. J My husband spend a few days networking it to our home computer, too, so I can watch movies/listen to music etc. on my pretty little Kindle Fire anytime I like.

I got a little more work done on Book 2. I don’t even hate it as much as I thought I did, which is nice. I’ve also discovered that there may be 4 books in the series rather than 3. Now I’m even more annoyed at Book 2, because I have SO MANY IDEAS for Book 3, but I can’t think about them too much until Book 2 is at least halfway done.

No word yet from the Angry Robots (sigh). I’ve decided that if they do pass, I’m going to do some tweaking and rework it into a YA book. I don’t think it’ll take too much tinkering, as most people who’ve read say it has something of a YA voice as it is. I just need to make it a little less sexy and make my MC a little younger.

Ok, that's all I can think of to say for the time being. Have a great week! :D

Christmas vacation and pseudo-scorpions

2011-12-16T10:12:00.001-06:00

Last night, as I executed a I swan-dive into my bed, I spotted a dark oblong shape on my sheets. In that fraction of a second while I hung suspended above my bed, helpless to change my trajectory or even slow down, I was utterly convinced that it was yet another scorpion. I was going to land square on it, and that there was nothing I could do to stop myself. I was doomed. As I descended, a moment of concentrated terror surged through me, both pure and devastating. I was going to die.

I landed and flung myself onto the floor—to the everlasting confusion/amusement of my dogs—only to find that it was not a scorpion in my bed after all, but the trailing end of my earbuds. I narrowed my eyes at the deceitful little electronic listening device, threw a stuffed animal at the dogs to distract them from my humiliation, and sheepishly slithered back into bed.

If I could kill that scorpion again for forever ruining the peace of my own bedroom, I would. I should have let my husband set it on fire. But NOOOOOO, I had to be all, “No, don’t burn it alive, that’s meeeeeean!!” Well, scorpions, beware. Next time I shan’t be so merciful. Not when I’ve developed a complex where I have to shake out the mattress and every sheet, blanket, pillow, and puppy dog before I get into bed. My fragile sanity has been shattered beyond repair, and somewhere in my backyard there’s an arachnid that’s going to pay for it.

On a happier note…

Today is my last day of work this year!

HUZZAH!!

I’m coupling a week of vacation with the normal week off for the Holidays from the university, creating one massive hybrid SUPER-CHRISTMAS!! It’s the only thing that got me out of bed this morning, when I woke up to find it 40 degrees inside my house.

It took a lot to get me out from my warm, currently-scorpion-free bed, covered in blankets and with two adorable puppies snuggled up beside me. But then I thought, “Oh, yeah…today’s my last day of work this year,” and I was able to skip merrily through the freezing house and get ready for work.

Ok, so maybe I wasn’t skipping through the house. It was more like slogging. The point is, I did it.

So what shall I do with my two glorious weeks of freedom, you ask? Sleep in. Every. Day. Like a boss. Maybe I'll get some work done on book 2, maybe (probably) I'll fret some more about the fact that I still haven’t heard back from the Angry Robots (sigh). Mostly I'll just eat, though. I have plans in the works to make a ham and cookies and pies and stuff, because being fat means never having to curtail your Christmas calorie intake.

In case I don't blog again this year, everyone have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! And a happy anything else you celebrate. :)

Top 10 Reasons why I've not blogged so much lately...

2011-12-07T11:33:00.000-06:00

Aside from the usual excuses of Thanksgiving, birthdays, work, etc., here are the top 10 reasons why I’m not blogging as much lately:

10. I can’t think of anything to say.

9. When I do think of something to say, I can’t imagine you’d be interested in. My goddaughter turned 7, my tummy hurts, and I discovered Words with Friends. Are you titillated? I thought not.

8. Constantly checking/reading/updating emails/Facebook/Twitter/AW/AR website etc. leaves precious little time for blogging shenanigans.

7. I’m re-watching Night Court and wondering how anyone ever got anything done before computers.

6. Free time spent blogging probably ought to be spent working on Book 2.

5. Goblin’s motivator frightens me. In more ways than one.

4. I’m compulsively checking for scorpions.

3. The Walking Dead has convinced me that my time might be better used preparing myself to kill my loved ones, should the upcoming Zombie Apocalypse claim them.

2. I’m on a re-reading kick, so I haven’t been making much of a dent in my ever-growing pile of new books, and hence haven’t been writing reviews of them yet. But you should all go read Game of Thrones. Just saying.

1. I’m afraid that if I bore you, you won’t think I’m pretty anymore.

RIP, Anne McCaffrey

2011-11-22T23:29:00.003-06:00

I can't believe it. I gasped so loud when I first read the news that my dogs thought someone was breaking into the house. I'm so sad! My very favorite author, of my very favorite book series, has passed away. Anne McCaffrey, whose Pern series first sparked my love of fantasy and dragons. A fantasy powerhouse, the author of nearly 100 books over a staggering 50+ year-long career, Anne McCaffrey will be mourned for years, and the literary world is poorer for having lost her, but her legacy will live on for generations.

Goodbye, Anne, and thank you so much. We'll miss you!

RIP, Dragonlady.

Random Things

2011-11-21T14:53:00.001-06:00

It’s only a few days until Thanksgiving! Yaaay! What is everyone doing for Turkey Day this year?

Well, the nightly scorpion checks (plural) have turned up no further scorpions as of yet. I pray this trend continues.

No news yet regarding Eyes of Stone from Angry Robot Books (sigh), but they did sign 2 authors so far from their Open Door Month experiment, and they have hinted that there might be more. They will also hold another Open Door Month next year, so if you’re a sci-fi/fantasy/horror author, get those manuscripts ready!! Also, they have announced their new imprint, Strange Chemistry Books, which will feature YA books. It will be edited by Ms. Amanda Rutter, who read a great many of the Open Door Months submissions. You can read more about all of that at AngryRobotBooks.com

And, should the Angry Robot Overlords happen to land on my blog, the Anxious Appliances have a message for them:

01001111011010000010000001100111011100100110010101100001011101000010000001100001011011100110010000100000011100000110111101110111011001010111001001100110011101010110110000100000011011110111011001100101011100100110110001101111011100100110010001110011001011000010000001110111011001010010000001101000011101010110110101100010011011000111100100100000011000100110010101110011011001010110010101100011011010000010000001111001011011110111010100100000011101000110111100100000011100000111010101110100001000000110000101110011011010010110010001100101001000000111100101101111011101010111001000100000011011010110100101100111011010000111010001111001001000000110000101101110011001110110010101110010001000000110000101101110011001000010000001100101011011100110010000100000011011110111010101110010001000000110110101101001011100110110010101110010011110010010111000100000010101000110010101101100011011000010000001110101011100110010110000100000011001000110010101101111011100110010000001101001011100100110000101110100011011110010000001101101011000010110001101101000011010010110111001100001011001010010110000100000011101110110100001100001011101000010000001100110011000010111010001100101001000000110100001100001011101100110010100100000011110010110111101110101001000000110001101101000011011110111001101100101011011100010000001100110011011110111001000100000011101010111001100111111

I hope I got the syntax right. :P

One last announcement: My husband David & I have decided to try to have a baby! We’ve been together for 11 years (married for 8 of those), and we’re both turning 30 next month. So we figured if we’re going to do it, we’d best do it soon.

If you listen reeeeeally close, you can hear the future Grandmas squealing in joy. It’ll be the first grandchild all around, so it’ll be spoiled rotten, I’m sure.

That is all for today. :)

Scorpion on my pillow

2011-11-14T13:46:00.000-06:00

So this was an eventful weekend. First, I woke up Saturday morning with an ear infection. Fun. We had people over that night for drinks and to watch some big fight or other on TV, which apparently lasted 64 seconds. Sunday I made a great big turkey dinner, kind of a pre-Thanksgiving thing, complete with mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, dressing, gravy, cranberry sauce, and pecan pie. My little sister and Mother-in-law joined us, and we watched Elf and then put up (most) of our Christmas decorations. When they left my husband & I watched another movie and ate some more food, and then when I went to bed, I noticed a little dust bunny on my pillow. I started to brush it away when I noticed that it looked like a very odd little dust bunny.

Because it was a SCORPION!! There was a #$%&ing SCORPION on my #$%&ing PILLOW!! UUUUUGH!! I'd never seen one before in my life, outside of a zoo or something. I was like HOW THE #$%& did a scorpion get in my house, let alone onto my pillow on top of my bed? Are there MORE of them? Is my mattress brimming with scorpions now? Why isn't the dog more upset about this?? My husband put the little bastard into a plastic container and we doused it in bug spray until it died, then we flushed it.

But my skin is still crawling!!! I can still see it shaking its pincers at us in rage, trying to sting our fingers through the plastic container. I had to check all the pillows and blankets and under the bed, and it still took me hours to fall asleep. Every time the dog brushed up against my leg I thought it was the scorpion army come to avenge their murdered comrade.

*shivers*

Creativity Exercise

2011-11-11T13:44:00.000-06:00

It's been awhile since I did one of these. Enjoy! And happy 11-11-11!!!

1. How can someone tell if you’re lying?
They run and tattle like a little girl

2. What was the last thing you stole?
A man’s heart. See? It’s right here, in a jar on my desk.

3. How many kids do you want?
I don’t like goats

4. What is something you CANNOT wait to do?
Breathe

5. Do you believe everything happens for a reason?
No. Nothing is ever caused by anything.

6. Where is the person who stole your heart?
In prison. Organ trafficking is illegal, yo. And it stings.

7. It’s 4 AM and your phone rings who is it?
A dead person. They just don’t know it yet.

8. Anything good happening tomorrow?
What did I say about my psychic abilities? I said they only work from 7:00-7:02AM every third Tuesday, and only during leap years that end in odd numbers. You don’t listen.

9. Relationships or one night stands?
I keep my nightstands for one night and one night only. Disposable furniture is the wave of the future, people. Be there or be square.

10. What are you sitting on right now?
My fat @$

11. What is the last non-alcoholic beverage you had?
Blood. Unfermented, of course. See? I pay attention to the questions.

12. What is one thing you need more than anything?
My internal organs, neatly arranged and functioning properly.

13. Who was the last person to wear your clothes, other than you?
Don’t be creepy.

14. What were you doing at 4AM?
Performing Macbeth in its entirety with the pink & blue unicorns who stole Charlie’s kidney and the other Charlie, who bit his brother’s finger. Disastrous, by the way.

15. Tell me about the shirt you’re wearing.
It’s simply encrusted with gemstones, pencil shavings, and gemstones fashioned to look like pencil shavings. Its name is James Mortimer Gerard Susan Mortimer Mortimer Mortimer, and cost me two hams and one of my outdated cell phones.

16. What’s the last thing you put in your mouth?
Me shiv, since it’s too hard to board a ship one-handed.

17. I bet you miss someone today?
I’m Ron Burgundy?

18. Chicken or steak?
It depends on who has the gun.

19. Are you an alcoholic?
There’s no good way to answer that question.

20. Are you an aunt/uncle?
I know it’s “in” to be transgender these days, but, sadly, I don’t feel compelled to have my genitalia altered, surgically or otherwise. So no. Not an aunt/uncle.

Halloween Flash Fiction winner #3 - John Di Rosa

2011-11-10T09:31:00.000-06:00

Once more I want to thank everyone who participated. Here is the work of the last, but certainly not least, winner of my Halloween Horror flash fiction contest, John Di Rosa:

I have a problem saying I love you.

The last time I said these words the recipient was less than over joyed. The gleefully ecstatic acceptance of this term was far from forthcoming. Instead of mulling glee and an expected response of I love you too the receiver of such good will suffered terrible trauma.

Her hair line started to pull backward which erased the lines of stress on her forehead built up waiting for such great news. As the skin pulled back the eyebrows burst into subtle flame. I don't know how burst and subtle work in this description but none the less if you had been witness you would have to agree.

As the skin continued to pull back it released itself from the eye sockets leaving a shadow on the once stately brown iris. Upon further observance of the eyes, they drained of all color and became white globules which in turn burst, spraying jellied blood fibers onto the collar of my tennis shirt.

As the face pulled from the bone structure of the nose a wet tearing sound started to build. A few small blackhead pimples sprayed the caked oils and actually made the stretched skin look younger for a time. Mercifully the skin broke at the line of the ears which leaves one less horror to describe.

As the lips started to thin out and pull away from the gums small snapping sounds emanated from the once beautiful (if only to me) face and some stray facial hairs blackened the pink gums.

This hideous mask suspended itself for a few dripping seconds then instantly dried and fell to the floor like cheap parchment.

While I stared in disbelief at the uncovered skull I was consumed with conscious terror. Never again would I verbalize such an uncommon yet welcomed emotion.

Turkeys!

2011-11-09T15:27:00.003-06:00

It's a little early for turkeystuffs, but hey, I'm putting my Christmas decorations up this weekend. Frankly, you ought to be proud of my restraint. So before the Christmas music spills out of my windows into the neighbor's ears and my several dozen Christmas trees dazzle their eyes, I'm celebrating the delicious creature that almost became our national bird.

The above picture is of the turkey I made from discarded book covers for the break room at work. I love arts & crafts. This one is a little over a foot tall and it makes me happy. :D

I can't wait for payday. I'm gonna go buy a couple of those $8 turkeys Wal-Mart's been throwing up in my face for the last 18 hours or so and roast the $%#! out of 'em. YAY, TURKEY!!! YAY, CHEAP MEALS FOR A WEEK!!

OMG, I can't wait for Christmas.

Tomorrow I'll post the final Halloween flash fiction contest winner. I was gonna do it today, but the turkeys distracted me. And now I have that song "Super Turkey" stuck in my head. Thanks, internet.

Halloween Flash Fiction winner #2, Hammond House by Mary Vettel

2011-11-08T13:16:00.003-06:00

Here is winner #2! Congrats to Mary Vettel!

Hammond House by Mary Vettel

It was not The Summer of ’42. It was not The Summer of Love. It was the summer my parents took us to Hammond House. My sister and I were teenagers and had no interest in this Revolutionary War museum. It was comprised of three separate houses –from the 1600s, 1700s, and 1800s - that were brought together. The curator lived in the Civil War era portion and gave us free reign to walk about giving ourselves the tour. My sister and mother remained downstairs in the 1600s house while my father and I went upstairs where a lot of farm equipment and hand tools were on display. They were desperately in need of repair, rusty, the leather torn, and the wood rotten with what looked to be termite holes. Not exactly something you’d ooh and ahh over.

Dad and I entered another room that was empty and in mid-July I saw my breath. We quickly exited and headed for the door to go downstairs. Near the door stood a dress dummy that appeared to be at least a hundred years old. I bent to feel the material at the hem and the dummy rolled up a ramp toward me; up a ramp that had been put there to keep it from rolling around. My father and I raced down the stairs, erupting into the room where my mother and sister were admiring a spinning wheel.

My mother said, “You two look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

Not quite, but close. Dad and I stood at an antique writing desk explaining about the dress dummy when a small bouquet of dried flowers rose up from a pewter vase, hovered, then fell to the floor.

Mom asked my father how he did that. As though he’d arrived ahead of us and rigged the joint. Dad disavowed any knowledge and studied the pewter vase, determining there were no springs or strings involved. I had a real good case of the creeps at that point and wanted to leave.

As a group we moved along to the 1700s section of the house. I stood near the large fireplace when a candle in a pewter holder rose up off the mantle, hovered, then fell to the floor. My mother again asked my dad how he did that and told him to knock it off before he scared us. Too late. Dad examined the candleholder, most likely looking for springs or strings. I heard them suggest the summer heat had something to do with the expansion or shrinkage of the wax, etc. My sister and I weren’t buying any of it.

We moved on to the curator’s section of the house and sat in his living room as he spoke about the curator’s duties. We heard footsteps above and my mom asked to speak with his wife. He said his wife and kids were out and he was alone in the house. My sister and I thought this was odd and excused ourselves to wait out in the sweltering car.

My parents joined us about a half hour later and, as we made the drive home, they sprung the news on us that we were going to be moving into Hammond House as the next curators. It was a done deal. We had no recourse, no amount of complaining, protesting, or reasoning would change their minds. They’d already found a buyer for our Bronx home. Contracts were signed. My mother tried to soften the blow by saying my sister and I would finally have our own bedrooms. My father told her about the frigid room that was to have been mine and thought it best if my sister and I remained roomies.

We moved in a few weeks later. The footsteps continued. The cold room remained cold even in August. The feelings of being constantly watched never ceased. The sensation that someone was right behind you on the stairs. My sister and I took turns as lookout while the other showered. Things disappeared and turned up elsewhere. My teachers didn’t want to hear, ‘My ghost ate my homework.’

One of my jobs was to hang the flag in the morning and take it down in the evening and I always heard a small boy’s laughter though we were miles from anyone. Negative energy permeated the place and arguments grew out of nothing. We lasted that one school year and were back in the Bronx by the end of June.

Halloween Flash Fiction Winner - Sentinels by Kevin Bufton

2011-11-07T12:38:00.002-06:00

Over the next few days, I'm going to post the winners' flash fiction entries from my Halloween contest up for everyone to enjoy, since Blogger didn't approve of the 750-word limit (ok'd by the authors, of course!).

Thank you, Kevin, for your hard work and for allowing me to post your story up on my blog.

SENTINELS by KEVIN G. BUFTON

Copyright Kevin G. Bufton 2011

Lehman walked awkwardly down the corridor, the soles of his shoes squeaking on the ornate marble floor as he struggled to support the girl's weight. She had been gratifyingly mute since leaving the limousine – a potent cocktail of champagne and sedatives had seen to that – which was all to the good. After all, he had not purchased her for her conversation.

He stopped before the boy's private quarters and rapped sharply on the door with his free hand. He entered without waiting for an answer and was not surprised to find Michael sat up in bed, reams of computer printout spread before him. He did not look up from the work and Lehman was not entirely convinced that he had even noticed him coming in.

“Good morning, Michael,” Lehman said.

“Mr. Lehman,” the boy replied, his eyes not leaving the pages before him.

“How are you this morning?”

Michael ignored the question. “We should get out of United Steel,” he said. “Their stock will spike on Thursday morning, but it will crash by the time the market closes.”

Lehman did not bother asking him how he knew. “Then we should wait until it spikes?” he asked.

“No, before that,” Michael replied. “We need to sink that money into Denton Holdings before the drop.”

“Denton?”

“Of course,” Michael said. “Their value will skyrocket within hours of United going under. We stand to make a small fortune.”

Lehman nodded to himself and half-dragged the girl towards a low chair at the side of the bed. As he threw her roughly into it, Michael looked up from his paperwork, his eyes suddenly alight.

“You brought me one,” he said, breathlessly.

“First of the month, Michael,” Lehman said. “Have I ever let you down?”

“No,” the young man replied. “No, indeed not.” He moistened his dry lips with his tongue, swinging his legs out from the bed and dropping to his knees before the woman. He waved his hand in a serpentine motion before her face and smiled as her glazed eyes followed its every movement. He covered her eyes with his hand.

“Name,” he said.

“Sarah,” the woman replied, tonelessly.

Michael took her head in his hands and, leaning forward, gently kissed her forehead. Lehman found this display of affection sickening, considering what was to come. He left the boy to his charade and stepped over to the mahogany bureau. When he returned, he saw that the girl was now compliant with his every command, all in a matter of seconds. Whether hypnosis or witchcraft, the effect was unnerving, even after all these times.

“Sarah,” he cooed. The woman raised her head a looked at him with glassy eyes. “Do you love me Sarah?”

“Yes, Michael,” she replied.

“How much do you love me, Sarah?”

“I love you with all my heart, Michael.”

“How much do you love me, Sarah?” Michael persisted, a distinct edge to his voice.

“I love you more than life itself, Michael,” she replied.

Satisfied, the young man took the tools from Lehman's clammy hands and, placing the point of the metal stylus in the centre of Sarah's forehead, brought the hammer down with a single, decisive blow. A thin rivulet of blood trickled from the hole and Michael scooped it up on his forefinger, tracing a red oval around the wound.

“This is the all-seeing eye,” he explained. “You will watch over me Sarah. You will protect me from harm, because you love me.”

“I love you, Michael,” she said.

He took her head in his hands again, his thumbs covering her eyes. Lehman knew what would happen next and excused himself from the room. Every month he did this. Every month he brought someone who would not be missed to the house and every month, he buried them somewhere in the extensive grounds as they succumbed to shock or infection. The life of a whore didn't amount to much when he stood to make millions from the forthcoming deal, but that didn't mean he had to watch.

As far as Michael was concerned, she was an all-seeing guardian, perceiving the whole of creation thanks to his impromptu surgery.

It stood to reason that she would no longer need her eyes.

THE END

Contest Winners!

2011-11-05T12:44:00.000-05:00

You know, I couldn't decide. They were all so good! And so, I'm awarding pendants to everyone who entered! Yaaaaay!

So, Charles, Mary, and Kevin, shoot me an email with your contact info and I'll send you my templates.

Thank you all for your time and your creativity! :D

Quick update

2011-11-03T17:03:00.000-05:00

Thank you to everyone who entered my Halloween blog contest! I'm in the process of reading them, but they're all pretty great so far! I'll post the winners sometime this weekend...as soon as I finish up this midterm paper. Pinky swear!

Happy Halloween!!

2011-10-31T14:29:00.000-05:00

I hope everyone's got big exciting sugary plans for tonight!! Our office Halloween party was a blast, especially the part where Harry Potter fought with Darth Vader. Epiiiiiiiiiiiiiic.

Don't forget, you have until midnight to post/email your scary flash fiction for a chance to win swag!

Have fun, everybody!

Only 4 days left to enter my Halloween contest!

2011-10-28T13:34:00.000-05:00

Remember, your scariest flash fiction is due by midnight on Halloween. Post it as a comment on the original post, located HERE, or, if you'd prefer, you can email them to me directly at beckahrah @ gmail .com. Limit of 750 words, and the winner (or winners) receive a glass tile pendant/keychain, etc. as a prize. Huzzah!!

Halloween Flash Fiction Contest!!

2011-10-25T11:49:00.001-05:00

I don’t know if you know this about me, but I love horror. The scarier, the better. Freak me out, give me nightmares, and make me afraid to turn the light out at night, and you’ve won me over.

And, since it is almost the scariest time of year, I thought I’d host a scary little contest. Flash fiction-style. Time to channel your inner King, Lovecraft, Barker, Craven...whoever gets your juices flowing.

The rules are simple: You have until midnight on Halloween (OoooOoooO, spoooooooky!!) to post your scariest flash fiction (no more than 750 words) as a comment on this thread. The scariest stories win a free pendant! I’ll give away at least two pendants but perhaps more, if you’re all on your scariest writing behavior.

This can be about anything. Zombie teddy bears, angry robots (smiley face), cannibalistic Santa Claus, cybernetic ghost sharks in a blood ocean, alien Frankenstein-monsters…whatever. The sky’s not even the limit. It just has to be original and scary. Blood & gore are totally cool, but please limit the “adult situations” & language so I don’t have to put a warning label on my blog. :P

And this should go without saying but, NO sparkly/angsty vampires, please, or I’ll slap you on the hand and take away your Halloween candy.

As always, the pendant(s) can be of anything you like. I can also make it into a keychain, zipper pull, etc. for the menfolk out there who might not be especially interested in jewelry.

I specialize in writing gods (see the list HERE, and you can see examples HERE, at my Etsy shop). I have it on good authority that they bring good writerly luck. I also have a large template collection of liquor bottles and retro/rockabilly-style zombies, but I can make any image/pattern/photo, etc. into a pendant.

Good luck! I can’t wait to see what you guys come up with! :D

Random Noise...I mean, News...Day

2011-10-21T10:49:00.001-05:00

For those who don’t know, I’m still awaiting the results of UK publisher Angry Robot Books’ March 2011 Open Door Submission Month. Those of us who remain have formed a support group of sorts over at Absolute Write, in which to whinge and moan and gnash our teeth collectively. You can check it out here: The AW Waiting Club

So far, from what we can gather, there were around 22 manuscripts escalated to the editors’ desks. Of those, so far one has resulted in a book contract and at least 2 have been rejected. I think. The rest of us are following their every tweet, facebook status, website update, and Formspring answer while going slightly mad. We’ve also formed a private writing group that we’ve called “Anxious Appliances,” which seems to be slowly degenerating into a more private place to chew our hands off, lol.

Incidentally, Angry Robot Books have some of the coolest covers I’ve ever seen, and you should check them out: Angry Robot Books

In other news, I have acquired my first smartphone, and I love it and I’ll bite you in the face if you try to take it from me. I was so engrossed in Twittering and Facebooking and downloading games and such that I forgot it was a phone until I got a call last night, and for a second I actually thought, “Wow, it can do that TOO??”

And, lastly, I’m beginning to hate that Goblin Humiliator Badge. It taunts me, just hanging out there underneath the WIP word-counter that hasn’t changed in a month. “It’s not my fault!!” I scream at it. “I have a new job…and I’ve been sick…and I have homework to do…and Betas to critique…and dogs to feed and bills to pay and a husband to play with and bells to answer and eggs to fry and I HATE YOU!” I’ve been counting my schoolwork and blog posts as word counts just so I don’t get to Day 7 of no writing and have to explain myself to my mother.

I just need another 8-10 hours a day, that’s all. Just enough so that I can get some writing done and get a second job for Christmas money, and still have some “me” time. Or a clone. Or just a great big pile of cash. Yeah, that’d about do it.

Blog Award! Yay!

2011-10-20T09:30:00.000-05:00

I've been away for a bit due to some gastrointestinal distress. Sorry about that.

Anyway, I've returned now, weak-stomached but largely intact, and now I have another blog award! Yaaaaay!!

Much thanks to the lovely & talented Lisa Ann over at Kicked, Cornered, Bitten, and Chased for my shiny new blog award! According to Lisa, "The purpose of this award is to ask bloggers to identify their own blog posts in certain categories." So. Here we go:

1. Most Beautiful Post: Amarantian Palace - my sketch of the Amarantian Palace from my WIP, Eyes of Stone, which is (as you well know) still awaiting judgment from the editors over at Angry Robot Books.

2. Most Popular Post: Books to Movies I'm Super-Excited About - I guess a lot of people around here read. ;)

3. Most Controversial Post: Not-So-Great Betas - There seemed to be a lot of mixed feelings about this one.

4. Most Helpful post: How to Change a Tire - It'll keep you from being raped, murdered, and left in a culvert. You're welcome.

5. Most Surprisingly Successful post: Dream Log #3 - Second-most hits of all my blog posts. Who knew people were so fascinated with Santa Claus kidnapping people from strip clubs?

6. Post that Didn't get the Attention it Deserved: Creativity Exercise #8 - I thought it was one of my funnier ones, but apparently Mr. internet didn't agree.

7. Post I am Most Proud of: Writing gods - Wasn't sure whether to cap that "gods," but oh well. This took me many moons to complete, and I'm still adding to it. All the old writing gods, patron saints, etc., from as many mythologies as I could locate. I turned them all into jewelry, and I have it on good authority that they bring good luck. :D

And now to pass it on to three other worthy bloggers:

1. Going From Nobody to Somebody

2. Rise of the Slush

3. Mary Ellen's Musings

Huzzahs all around! I hope to step up the blogging soon; it's just been hard to find the time lately between the new job and the sickness and the school and all. :P

Dream Log #3

2011-10-11T09:43:00.004-05:00

Last night, I dreamed that my sister talked me into going swimming with her at this strip club’s indoor pool, which turned out to have a chemical in it that dissolves your clothing. Then, of course, we saw the pervs watching from the underground pervert rooms. We got out and were promptly man-handled by creepy homeless-looking strip club patrons, and then we got kidnapped by Santa Claus.

No kidding.

Somehow in all this, my sister was kidnapped and held hostage by someone else. In order to save her life (and I don’t remember exactly how or why this would work), I had to go with the other strippers to put on a “water show” for Santa Claus at the North Pole. When we got there, the security guards said we had to be careful to avoid Mrs. Claus. She found us anyway and was really sweet and sad that her husband enjoyed sexy parties. I felt like a jerk, but hey, I had to save my sister’s life, right? Except we never got around to doing the nude water ballet thing (thank goodness), because someone (I suspect Mrs. Claus) set the North Pole on fire. Then we were magically transported back home, and then I woke up.

That dream sucked, by the way. I feel all skeezy just thinking about it, lol. I thought the creepy squirrel clip art was a good fit for that. ;)

Looking for a few good guest bloggers!

2011-10-04T09:58:00.001-05:00

Picture is unrelated; I just think it's pretty. :D Thank you, Windows Clip Art!

Whoo, this has been a crazy and very FULL couple of weeks! I’m finally settling into my new job (I think), and while it won’t be quite as all-encompassing as I initially feared, it does require more of my attention than my previous position. Which only makes sense, as I am now a supervisor. Squee!!

Anyway, my blogging may still be sporadic over the next few weeks as I get used to this new position. Frankly, it’s been a challenge just keeping Goblin’s motivator from getting too nasty.

This job is a much more physically demanding one than I’ve ever had, so it makes me very tired on those days when I have to haul dozens of boxes of magazines around campus. So, in the spirit of togetherness, variety, keeping the blog diverse, expanding new horizons, and keeping you lovely people interested (as well as easing the strain on my poor back and brain), I am looking for guest bloggers.

If you’d like to guest blog here, email me at beckahrah @ gmail.com (sans spaces, of course) and include the material you’d like to contribute. It can be something you’ve already posted on your own blog, as long as it’s yours and I won’t get sued or anything horrible like that.

Much thanks and karma and book contracts upon you all for your help!

White Chocolate Amaretto Custard Pie with Raspberries

2011-09-28T23:58:00.000-05:00

Trying something new today!

As you probably don't know, I really like to cook. Especially when it comes to baking. As the cold season approaches, I get to start flipping through my recipes for tasty treats that will fill my house with the warm smells of fattening, delicious goodies.

My coworkers also benefit from this. I bake an assortment of custard pies and fancy cakes, and every time I bring one in, my coworkers urge me to post pictures & recipes on my blog. So, here we go!

Above you see one of my very favorite recipes, my white chocolate amaretto custard pie with raspberries. And yes, it looks even prettier in person and yes, it tastes just as amazing as it sounds. I know that sounds a little vain, but trust me, it's pretty awesome.

Don't believe me? Well, then, try it out for yourself:

Ingredients:

* 1 Shortbread Pie crust (I abhor graham crackers, but change it out if you must)
* 1 pint (2 packs) fresh raspberries**
* 1 pint heavy whipping cream
* 1 small can sweetened condensed milk
* 3 egg yolks, well beaten
* 3 tbsp. cornstarch
* 1 box Bakers white chocolate squares
* 2 tbsp. butter
* 2-3 Tbsp. Amaretto extract (I like a LOT of amaretto flavor, but use as much or as little as you like. I do NOT recommend substituting amaretto liquor, as it doesn't have nearly as much flavor as the extract does)

Directions:

In a large saucepan, combine COLD heavy whipping cream and slowly add cornstarch, mixing constantly with a wire whisk. Turn heat to medium-low. Add condensed milk and egg yolks, still mixing constantly.

In a separate pan, add all white chocolate ingredients, amaretto extract to taste, and butter. Cook over LOW heat (or in a double boiler), mixing occasionally, until it's all melted together (so that it doesn't stick to the bottom) and bubbling.

Continue mixing the custard almost constantly over low to medium-low heat. When the custard becomes thick (so that the wire whisk leaves trails) and just starts to bubble--and this will take about 20 minutes, so bring your patience--turn off the heat and add the white chocolate mixture. Stir well with a spatula until bubbling again.

Pour the custard into the pie crust and let cool for at least an hour (NOT in the fridge).

Top with fresh raspberries** and chill at least 3 hours in the refrigerator. Overnight is best.

**You CAN use frozen raspberries, but make sure you thaw them and drain them VERY WELL. They will still turn the custard pink. It will taste fine, but it'll look a little funky, and I personally think that it tastes better with the fresh ones.**

As I make my other recipes, I'll post them up here as well as some pictures. You can look forward to things like Bananas Foster Custard pie, chocolate pecan custard pie, lemon-blueberry cake, and others. Yay, baking!!