9/11

I wrote this on 9/11 but am just now posting it as I wasn't sure we all needed one more 9/11 Blog Post...but, after some thought...I've decided to post it. Here it is:

Drawing by Don East. For more of his art go to his BLOG.

On Facebook today I said this:

"I think today is best used for reflection...no need to overthink it. Reflect, appreciate, remember, love, pray....but no hate. And don't let the crazy media make it a circus. My TV is off for the day."

And it is. No TV for me. This whole 10th Anniversary crap is for the media & tourists. To a New Yorker it's like it was yesterday. Especially to those who lost someone. I was lucky and did not. I had a friend who worked in the mall there. In fact, I was on the phone with him the night before. It was 11pm and he whinned at me that if he didn't get some sleep he'd be late for work. I remember chiding him, saying something like, "You don't even need to be there at 8am! Why are you going in so early? Besides, I hardly ever get to talk to you!"

I kept him on the phone past midnight.

He overslept.

When the planes hit, instead of being there he was in bed.

Thank God.

I met a woman over the phone at my first collections (insurance) job who had escaped Tower Two alive. She and a friend had been working there during the bombing years previous so when Tower 2 swayed from Tower 1's explosion she and her friend, though told to stay calm and go back to their desk, grabbed their purses and said, "We're outta here."

They took the stairs down and halfway down felt the building rock. The lights went out and they waited. The emergency lights came on and they continued down the stairs.

Legs feeling like jelly they exited Tower Two and got across the courtyard when Tower Two fell.

For stories like that, and many more, I do not see why NYC hasn't made it a city holiday. When it falls on a weekday it's my opinion it should be a paid holiday for anyone working in the any of the 5 boroughs of the city.

It wasn't 10 years ago in our hearts. It was yesterday. And we hurt just thinking about it. We feel a sense of unity. We appreciate those who died to save others. We pray for those who lost loved ones. We remember what that day felt like with just a photo...it takes our breath away. We love our fellow New Yorkers for being supportive...understanding...and giving.

I directed a short one act in the Chester Horn Short Play Festival called "Going Up." It was about these 6 people trapped on an elevator. 3/4 of the way through the play it is revealed that it is the morning of 9/11 and they're in the World Trade Center and as the play comes to a conclusion, they all take hands and go up into the light...as the elevator wasn't stuck, just their souls were waiting to move on...to accept their fate.

I asked the actors what it felt like on stage when the big reveal happened. As audiences effect your performance very often just by their energy (or lack there of). Each had similar versions of the same story. I specifically remember Suzanne and Rachel's answers, not word for word...but the gist. Suzanne stated how you could hear the whole audience (around 60 people) take a quick intake of air...followed by it catching in their throats. Rachel said that the energy, the empathy, that rushed off the audience in waves was so powerful it was hard to not burst into tears on stage, to stay focused as an actor.

So all this hoopla about "It's been ten years...blah blah blah..." No love, when New Yorkers really think on it, it was ten minutes ago.

So when 9/11 pops into your head...no matter the day...pray for all the survivors who lost loved ones that day. Pray for those who were so close to the devistation (not just in New York, but in DC and on Flight 93 In PA) that it effected them emotionally and/or physically (some are still sick). Pray that people will someday learn to love vs. hate...see no color...see no religion...see no sexual preference...

We are all God's children and that makes us equal in the only eyes that matter. His.

Tamsin

Shoes Challenge!

<---Did you see that? Is that the spider I keep dreaming about?

Naw, too small.

Don't ask. **shudders**

Anyhoo...

On to our blog entry...about SHOES!

I have this thing for stupid shoes. I like to take pictures of them. Its a sickness, I know. But really. How can I not? They wear them IN PUBLIC and I have a camera on my phone...they're just BEGGING for exposure!

Anyway, last week I was kidnapped by a shoe store and forced to buy two pair of shoes (Squeee!..uh...I mean, Damn them!...yeah...*clears throat*) and I saw these on display and about lost...my...shit.

Laughing, that is.



Really? SEQUIN UGGS!? ARE YOU F'N KIDDING ME?! Uggs in general are ugly boots (hence their name). *shakes finger at protester* Ah ah ah...YES they are! I don't give a flying pa-toot if they're warm. They. Are. Ugly. Seeing women pair them with skirts makes me want to call the Fashion Police, no mater how "in" they are. I can understand they're warm. I can. But they have no arch support or cushion to them either. So...ugly and painful. Then why are they so "in"? *sigh* But now...we have SEQUIN UGGS! I just can't even...I mean, really? Please God please stop the insanity!

Anyhoo, it got me to thinking of the stupid shoes I've taken pictures of and I decided to share a few with you today AND make it a contest. You ready?

OK...

We'll start with what was on the train with me this morning. Pic first. Then the ramble. Here you go:



These "loverly" sandals are...you got it, gold with rinestones...but it gets better! That top item is a skull w/crossbones and the bottom is a...fly? Maybe its a bee...but I think it looks like a fly. EITHER WAY...neither makes sense! And what are those gold things hanging off the side of the skull? Oiy. So...you've got tacky, ugly AND flat! Is this tourist REALLY gonna wander NYC today in these? God help her! Honey, might I introduce you to Fit-Flops? They're not "stylish"...but neither are what you're wearing and you'd at least be comfortable. Just sayin'.

Moving on!

We'll stick with sandals. This was my first shoe pic, ever. I just...couldn't...help...myself...



WTF?

Grapes sandals? Really? I just don't get it. Am I missing something here? I don't think I am. They're ridiculous and unattractive. They make her already small feet look dwarfed. :( At least the sole is thicker than mis gold lamé rinestone skull's are...but that's not saying much. And no, this wasn't part of a costume. Thoughts on these? Anyone? Anyone?.....I didn't think so.

On to our last victim.

I wish you could've seen the whole outfit on this cute little Asian chick. She was in her 20's I'd guess. On a date, I think. She wore ALL purple...in the same shade so kudos to her as that's hard to do. Purple in her hair, purple jaket, purple spandex mini skirt, purple tights and...*drum roll*...



With winter right around the bend I thought we'd end with these...but wow. I can't tell if I want a pair (in black of course) or if I think she stole Barney's feet! I hope they're warm cause...wow. I have not the words.

So...here's the challenge! Take your own CRAZY/STUPID/UGLY footwear pics about town (on either someone you know...or better yet, on someone you don't) and submit them to me at tamsinlsilver@gmail.com. The winner will get a free e-copy of the first book in the Living Dead Girl Series, "The Betrayal".

DO NOT SUBMIT PICS FOUND ON THE INTERNET. For EXAMPLE. They can be shoes you own but DO put them on! They can be shoes you see in a store, too. As long as its a non-pro snap-shot it'll count.

You have until the end of Release Weekend (10/16)! Winner and runner up will be posted on the blog!

Good luck!

xo

Tamsin :)

P.S. We start with sequins...we should end with sequins...

I leave you with a pair of shoes I totally want but CANNOT justify. Red, sequin (not glitter) Ruby Slippers (they're on my feet...I wear a size 6 btw..you know, if you have a pair you just don't know what to do with...*hint hint*). They are wicked uncomfortable and only good for dressing up as Dorothy (which I did as a kid a lot btw) so I'll never buy them but...if I did, I'd probably find another chance to wear them other than Halloween. Then I too would end up in one of these "stupid shoes" photos! LMAO!

Cheers!

Editing 102

No, you didn't miss Editing 101...it was just so long ago I don't think I could blog about it now.

So, what is Editing 102? Maybe a better title would be "You Never Stop Learning" or "You Never Stop Realizing Where Your Writing SUCKS" OR "Holy Jeebus I Spent 5 Days and 65 Hours Editing and SURVIVED" OR HEY...HOW ABOUT..."I NEVER WANT TO READ MY OWN BOOK AGAIN AS LONG AS I LIVE"...

*sigh*

Let's back up...

Editing 101 was a crash course slapped onto me by Ms. Grames a year ago, which was a HUGE "Ah-Ha" moment for me....(Jeebus, that woman reeeally taught me a lot)...I would then consider what I put myself through for 5 days this past weekend Editing 102...with notes from my current Editor, Mrs. Becraft.

It FINALLY clicked for me on Day 4. I'm slow, what can I say? I suddenly saw the horrible redundancy areas of my book. Sadly, I was 1/2 way through the book upon realization so I'm glad I'll have one more pass at the PIMA (Pain In My Ass...aka My LDG Novel) before it goes to the E-gods for public distrabution & consumption.

I spent 65 hours in my desk chair (aka torture device from hell) in 5 days. I basically ate, slept, edited, ate, edited...then repeat for 5 days. I refused to open Twitter, FB, or my blog for fear of being "sucked in" and losing valuable time. I had a deadline...and only one hand to edit with. I think I used up my 40 hrs of free Pandora and I only took breaks to walk the dog, grocery shop, hug on my dog, stretch or get food from kitchen. I think I took one phone call from a writer pal in MI and texted a bit with Lauren. That was it in 5 days. I was FOCUSED.

And I think my brain bled because of it.

Women, by nature are multi-taskers. Right now I have 12 things open on my desktop. Normal. It's a normal, happy place. The only things I had open were my Word doc, a verbs spreadsheet, iTunes & Pandora...it felt like a foreign universe.

But, I made a breakthrough in seeing the smaller errors this weekend. Big errors (Editing 101) were hard but yet once pointed out I was like, "I totally see that!" With Editing 102...it took a bit to really see. But when my mind went, "Holy shit! I get it!" It was a big break through. On this pass I cut the word count by almost 3000 words. NO JOKE. I added some too...which tends to happen when you're re-writing sections that need help. But in the end, I'd still cut about 2300 words.

Maybe, just maybe, I'm learning. :)

One more pass to go on it...after that, I swear on a stack of Bibles, I'll never read that full thing again (unless paid to).

XO

Tamsin :)

Postcards!

FRONT OF CARD





















BACK OF CARD

















Artwork on Front by Buffi Becraft
Layout of Card (both sides) by FMS Digital (my mom's company)
Headshot by Vince Lingner

Lauren and I will be handing these out at NYC Comic Con. If you're there, come find us! Ok, text me and I'll let you know where we are. Or send me a message on Twitter!

If you find us, you'll get to enter the give away! More on that later! So stay tuned!

xo

Tamsin :)

Come on Irene

Oh yes, there were many a Tweet on Twitter on Friday, Saturday & Sunday with the #ComeOnIrene hashtag. It put the 80's song (Come On Eileen) in your head, no?

Anyhoo, I thought I'd take you non-New Yorkers on my Irene Journey. Why? Why the hell not? It's a funny story!

All through this story one MUST remember I have only one good hand. It's a must. It makes it all the funnier. Truuust me.

OK...here we go...

Friday, August 26, 2011
As previously stated in the last blog entry, I braved the grocery store near my office for items I knew would be gone gone gone at my home store. I packed them up in a big re-useable bag and draaages that heavy bitch home with me.

On my way home I'm thinking of all the things I remember from living in the Carolina's for 10 years...on hurricane prep that is. Not that I was ever IN a bloody hurricane THERE...oooh noooo...but now that I'm up in NYC? Now I'm in one. (What about this seems wrong?) I make mental notes: Get water, buy batteries for radio, find flashlight, get batteries for it too, check candle supply, charge electronics (especially extra cell battery), fill tub with water.....you get the picture.

I'm also fretting about walking my dog in blowing rain. Remember? CAST. It's not supposed to get wet. *sigh* Wonderful. Well...at least I have my roommate (we'll call her Amy) to help me...........................

I get home to find Amy in a panic, packing her bags, and fleeing town. (Fucking wonderful.) I ask her where is she going to go. To a place out in the country on the CT/VT border, she tells me. I say, "Uh, the storm is heading there too, you know." To which she replies, "But there's less people there." O_o In her defense, she's from a small town, not been here long, her sister lives in Louisiana (can you say "Hurricane Katrina"?) and both her mom & sis have writhed her into a panic where she's going on about the sewer system backing up and no transportation (MTA shut down from Sat at noon till 5am this morning)and millions "trapped" in the city...etc. Panic. Mayhem. Trapped. She's on a roll...face white, pinched and body moving in a jerky fashion. Poor thing. They've pretty much convinced her she's dead if she stays.

So she goes.

Me? I go down to 170th street to buy Meade. (The difference btwn a city girl & a country girl I was told.)----for those who don't know...Meade is a high alcohol Honey Wine. You've possibly had it at a Ren Fair.

I get home and run to the grocery store in my neighborhood for the last things I need. I am still toting the 3 bottles of wine and have no rolly cart. I never said I was smart all the time.

So the place is a madhouse. Shocker. But everyone is patient, nice, and...confused. No one who wortks there is helping prople understand their shitty set up for lines. So...like any other Leo, as i get close enough and figure it out, I start answering questions and directing people. I know I know...typical.

By the time I hobble home with too many bags and put them away, I make dinner (God knows I have enough bloody food now) and read.

Saturday, August 27, 2011
I wake up at 8:15am.

Well hell.

I try to go back to sleep but my brain won't shut up....it's all, "You need to do laundry and go find batteries...which you won't find but you have to try and you need to get water...which will be wicked heavy...How are you going to get that up the stairs? You need to call your dad and do some editing and....are you still laying here? If you don't get to that laundramat before the rest of the womem in your neighborhood you could wait all day just to wash your stuff! What if they close early? Get your fat ass up!!!"

So I did.

With one hand on my cart and the other wrapped in plastic, holding an umbrella (or trying to) I head to do laundry. I call my dad as I sweat to death in that place. You see, I'm my dad's only child. He worries like an old lady. I know he's glued to the damn TV (if he's not, he wants to be) worrying and wondering if I'm in the evacuation area....but he won't call. Oh no. That'd show me he's worried and I'n an adult and blah blah blah. *sigh* I know him. I love him. So I call to quelch his fears.

Once laundry is done it's...you guessed it...it's POURING.

Fuck.

So here I go again with my plastic covered hand (a plastic grocery bag held on with rubber bands. Oooooh...stylish.) and I bumble along to get the damn cart into the gate and up the stairs. Ugh.

But I'm not done. Now it's "Find Batteries and Water" time. So I go to my remaining roommate to ask for help. She's sleepin (in her defense, she works LATE) and she's pretty much unresponsive...so, I'm on my own. I stop at 3 places. No C batteries. Shocker. *sigh* I do find some overly priced small candles in glass though. I buy three. I go to Rite Aid. LINES LINES LINES.

*Deep breath*
Find pack of many water bottles together.
Consider how to get in cart with one hand.
Man walks by. Sees my dilema.
Briskly escapes before I can ask for help.
Try to lift using bad hand. Stop as its not feeling like a wise idea.
A woman goes by, sees my dilemma, and she too runs before I can ask for help.
God give me patience!
Finally I use my one good hand and actually lift the buggering thing into my cart without dropping on myself.
It's a damn miracle.

Thankfully the guy working behind the counter comes around to ring it up and puts it back in my cart. I head home. Oh, did I mention its raining again?

I. Could. Scream.

I stop into a bodega and actally find batteries. MIRACLE! Drag my sweaty ass and my heavy cart home to stare at my stairs. I'm debating called roommate to put on some clothes and help me when a man comes along with his laundry. He sees me. Oh yes...he sees me. Does he offer to help me?

No.

But I corner the bastard and pittifully ask for help...convincing his hemming and hawing by saying "It's just one flight."

He helps. PRAISE GOD.

I get in and fall over onto my bed.

But no rest for the Hurricane weary folks! I need to get the apt ready!

Roommate still asleep.

So I take out the 3 things of garbage (in NYC we have to break up things into 3 bags; blue for glass/metal/plastic, clear for paper/cardboard, & black for other crap)...attempt to wash dishes with one hand (this is harder than you might think), put away laundry and shower.

My roommate THEN gets up and informs me she too is leaving.

Honest to goodness thought at the time: "You have got to be fucking kidding me!"

In her defense, her family lives not far from us and have been bugging her for 24 hrs to come over.

So she goes.

Alas, there I am. Alone. Broken hand. Hurricane coming. Dog to handle on my own. And then icing on the cake....TORNADO WARNING.

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE F'N KIDDING MEEEEEEEEE!

*Deeep breath*

Pack a go-bag. Pack dog stuff. Pack computer. Put the stuff in the hall at safest spot for tornado.

Watch the news. Told the worst will be from midnight to 3pm. Doze off. Wake up just after 11pm.

Look at dog.
Look at the clock.
Look outside at seriously blowing rain.
Remember its only gonna get worse.
Look at dog.
Look at the clock.
Look outside.
Cuss.
Put on plastic arm wrap.
Put on swim cap. (I didn't want to sleep with wet hair so stop laughing! Besides, it holds my glasses on. So there? )
Step into outdoor vestibule with dog.
We get to the gate...its REALLY BLOWING...and it'll be worse once I leave the protection of the side of the building. My dog pees briefly and we head to the gate. He looks at the gate but doesn't try to go to it. Instead he turns and looks at me. His eyes say, "Lady, you have GOT to be fucking crazy." I ask him, "Wanna go back in then?" He bolts back for the door to the apartment building.

Gooood boy. Thank you thank you thank you!

The barometric pressure has my injured hand swollen (it couldn't be that I did too much that day...oh no...blame it on the rain...) so I take 2 Motrin PM and pass slap the fuck out.

Sunday, August 28, 2011
Wake up at oh-dark-thirty (possibly 4am?) suuuper groggy from the meds and look outside. Not much wind, not heavy rain. I tell myself it must not be "here" yet. Pass out till 6am. Same view. Same thought. Sleep till 9:30am when my phone buzzes. Neighbor says its stopped raining but she can help with my dog. I scramble up at thr word "help", as I've had NONE till now, and it sprinkles the minute we're out...but she is helping so its easy.

She tells me Irene hit Jersey and then moved east...which means the worst is over. WOOT! We walk the dog and my neighborhood looks like nothing worse than a thunderstorm went through. Not a tree down, no flooding...not even a puddle!

So I busted my behind yestyerday for WHAT exactly.

Sometimes God's humor escapes me.

I leave you with the Come On Irene song someone did.......it's...well...you'll see.

Tamsin :)

P.S. I'd like to give kudos to NYC officials though. They were on the ball with preparations for the worst. Thankfully they weren't needed everywhere, but to those being wise asses about it? Shut up. They did their job well. If Irene hadn't hit South Jersey and run away to the east, you wouldn't be being so flippant. And to those who did lose power or their homes to flooding. Our prayers are with you.

****Funny Side Note: Where Amy ran to...got hit worse than we did at our apartment. Oh the irony. Makes me smile. :) ****

IRENE OVER NEW YORK:

NYC Hurricane To-Do List

Designed by Simon Fletcher. Link to Original on tumblr.

ENOUGH SAID.

xo

Tamsin :)

P.S. I am off to go buy hurricane supplies; Milk, bread, cereal, flashlight, wine, cheese, and snacks. That sounds right...right? Already got stuff to cook (gas stove is a plus when you realize power could go out) and a huuuge bag of dog food. Will buy some water at home. Not carrying the damn gallon or two of THAT from the office to home. Hells to the no.

Good luck all you New Yorkers! Watch...we'll get a sprinkle of rain and be done with it. Ha! Wouldn't that just be how it goes?

Prayers for those Irene's bawdy self does visit this weekend. Stay home or at least stay safe.

Black Sunshine

I got this idea. Its been swimming about in my head for the past few days. The thought or question(s) I've had was what would the world I created in the LDG Series be like in a hundred or more years if the human's didn't listen to and do something about the global warming and air polution. What would happen if the sky went dark? Would the vampires thrive? Die out? What about the human race?

I started seeing a story in my mind...using the grand daughter of Denika (our werewolf from "Moon Over Manhattan"). I can't really work on it yet as I...A) Can't really type well right now. B) I have edits for LDG to due.

But...I miss the creative process...all this editing isn't the same as writing/creating. So I took a little time today to play. See what you think. Pretty sure this isn't the first chapter...or if it is, there will be a prologue. It's rough...its short...its just a start.

Welcome to...

Black Sunshine

The city was dark, but that wasn’t anything new. It was always dark. Mia’s eyes were created to see better in it than the human’s who pushed past her, wearing their respiration masks. It still amazed her how determined they were as a race—the human’s that is. Surviving the wars, the pollution, and the death of the sun. Her brother called them cockroaches behind their parents’ back. Claimed it was because the scuttled from dwelling to dwelling in a protective shell.

Neither she nor her brother required protective gear or a RM (Respiration Mask). But that’s because they weren’t human. Never had been. Werewolves from birth, their lungs filtered the bad air automatically. In fact, two other of the four Clandestine factions could go without masks. The shape shifters and the vampires also wandered free of facial decoration, like her. The witches though? Too much human frailty in them as a species to go without one. This was why Beck wore a RM as he blathered on to her.

“I told you, I don’t know why your brother requested you. I just follow orders, Mia, that’s my job.”

Mia abruptly spun her tall form into his way, placing her hand on his chest, stopping his movement so fast his tall and lanky form stumbled. “I was busy.”

“I…I…I won’t tell him where I found you or what you were doing,” he stammered.

A human walked by, giving Mia an accusing stare.

“What? You got a problem?” She snapped and the human female scuttled off.

“They just think I’m human, that’s all,” Beck said, making excuses for the woman who’d gone by. “They don’t like it when our kind rough up theirs."

Mia removed her hand from Beck and continued to walk north on 8th Avenue. “What does Mabon want? Did he say?”

“No ma’am.”

She sighed. Her brother was always doing this. Ever since their father had gone missing he ordered her around like a puppy. It was driving her mad. She had work to do. Not that her family approved of her work, but she didn’t care.

She pushed her long bangs out of her face with an exasperated sigh. “If this is trivial, and you cost me my bounty for nothing, I’m taking it out of your ass, Beck.” When he didn’t say anything she turned her gaze on him, his floppy black hair bouncing with his steps.

Looking nervous, he swallowed and nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

“Come on, you’re draggin’ your ass.” Giving his arm a slight tug they changed direction as they walked through Columbus Circle.

They walked in silence, Beck almost at a trot to keep up as they passed many who stared at her. Mia knew she looked like a Barbie doll wandering through the streets of Hell—tall, curvy, blond with blue eyes and a flawless face. It’s why she chopped off her long hair the minute she was of age to do as she pleased with it. She hated the comparison. It helped a bit that she usually wore her black leather, bounty hunting gear. Yet, her Barbie looks weren't the only reason people stared at her as her knee high boots crunched mercilessly on garbage on Central Park West.

“Freak!” A voice yelled from the subway stairs. She paid it no mind. It was the daily norm.

The other reason they watched her was because they wondered which faction she was. Shortly after the human’s had ruined the sky and in turn, the atmosphere, they had learned of the Clandestine World. Not so much because they weren’t careful, they always had been, but now they stood out. When human’s had started dying off and they hadn’t, they hadn’t been a way to blend anymore.

Scientists attempted to throw some of them in cages, pull DNA to study so as to improve the human’s quality of life. But they weren’t successful, neither in creating the serum nor in keeping Clandestine held captive. It had only resulted in more dead humans. So they stopped. Now they just stared—like they were animals in cages at the zoo. Often Mia stared back.

“Do you ever wish they didn’t know about us?” She asked.

Beck cleared his throat inside his mask, his voice then coming out through the speakers with a slight squeak, “We run the world now, Mia. Why would we want to go back to that?”

To be normal. To blend in. To not be watched all the time.

“Never mind. We’re here.”

© Copyright Tamsin L. Silver