D. F. Krieger

Thursday, March 24, 2011

The Last Straw

I try to be a patient person. I try to be understanding, forgiving, thoughtful. I really do. But even I have my limits. My neighbors are now suffering the consequence.

For those of you that didn't know, my husband is in the Navy. We live in base housing, which is actually a housing community off base owned by the military. It's a beautiful area, and pretty quiet. Other than the vagrants who keep spray painting the park, things are calm and clean.

The houses range from duplexes to town houses. When we moved here, I was lucky enough to get a duplex. It's pretty big, it doesn't have any stairs (because navigating stairs with my knee is more of a chore then I can handle some days), and it has a large backyard. Well, large compared to what the town houses have. Anyhoo, my neighbors seem nice enough. They are always on the go, but them not being home means things are quiet next door.

Except for the fact that every time my neighbors pull out to leave they do so like this: Pull infront of my car, through my yard, out the back end of my side of the driveway, and out onto the street. When they come home they pull in behind my car, circle through my yard, turn infront of my car, pull nearly up to my front door, reverse into their own driveway...and park. I've tried desperately to keep my cool about it. Where I come from, driving through people's yards isn't kosher. I've tried to ignore that their headlights blaring into my bedroom window at odd hours (sometimes as late as 1 a.m.). I've tried to ignore the fact that if the military housing decides to get pissy about ruts in the yards, they are going to give ME a citation because it's on my side of the yard.

I've kept my mouth shut...and even calmed myself with the knowledge that now that I'm pregnant I'll be moving soon. One more kid means we'll qualify for a bigger house.

But then my neighbor had to be a total asshole last week...And I've had it!

With the military, it's common to have friends on different ships/units. We had a friend who needed to park his car here for two weeks while he left for a work-up (a mini deployment that gets the ship ready for the real thing). No big deal. We put his car in our driveway, the nose overhanging on the grass a little towards our front door, then park our PT Cruisers in a row behind it and ShaZoom! We have the cars all on our side of the driveway, with nothing parked on the street. Go us and being good friends.

All good, right? Ha! The day our friend comes to pick his car up he finds out it has a flat tire. No big deal, his tire tends to leak. But once he gets the tire aired up, his key literally snaps in half when he goes to start up his car. And it's one of those microchip keys. He ends up having to call a tow truck and have it towed to a storage unit. Now, enter nosey neighbor, watching it being loaded on the tow truck.

"I'm glad to see that car gone. It was making it difficult for us to get in and out."

What?! Really? I bristle on the inside, but I do my best to be nice. I'm moving soon, I'm moving soon, I'm moving soon. Trying desperately to think of anything to fill the silence, I latch on to the gathering clouds and ask if he's heard if it's going to rain? To which he promptly asks (in a snide voice) if I have a TV.

Oh, it's on!

I spent about two days plotting what I was going to do. I thought about putting solar lights on either side of our sidewalk, but realized they would probably drive over the top of them and smash them. I thought about planters, but realized if they didn't see me put them there during the daylight, they'd probably zoom over my sidewalk and smash those in the middle of the night too. So I decided I needed something big. Something that said, "I dare you to squeeze your van's butt through here." I pulled my hulking purple PT Cruiser up so far that it's back half is on the driveway and it's front half is in the grass. Actually a quarter is in the grass and the other quarter is on my front side walk.

It's only been three days since I've done it, but I'll admit that EVERY time they go to leave, I stand by the kitchen window, sipping tea while I watch them pull forward, back up, pull forward, back up as they try to widgie into their own yard and out onto the street. They could solve this if they'd just park vehicle number two on the side of the street when they know they are leaving. You know, like everyone else in American freaking does (including myself and my husband). But...Not my problem. ~ D. F. Krieger

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Six Sentence Sunday

Welcome back, once again, to Six Sentence Sunday. As usual, I highly appreciate everyone's comments and I wish a happy week ahead of you. I shall leave you with another snippet from my current WIP, Sail My Oceans.

     When his hands began to pull his pants down, she found her gaze riveted on his crotch. He didn't cock tease her, didn't give her a show like he had with his shirt. Instead he let them drop to his ankles then stepped out of them. Lucy stared at him with disappointment. His legs were sexy enough, but what she wanted to see was still tucked safely away in the boxers he wore. She could see his need, but none of the details.

For more fantastic writers and their six, please return to Six Sentence Sunday. ~ D. F. Krieger

Friday, March 18, 2011

Musical Inspiration

If you ever follow me on Twitter, you'll notice I often ask what others listen to if they are writing, or even reading. I find music is a major inspiration to keep me writing.  I don't write stories for the songs, I listen to songs that seem to echo my stories. Well I've been editing, Sail My Ocean's, all week. I have two songs that I listen to on repeat, but one of them doesn't have a video.  There is this song though.



I love this because it really reflects the world I see when I write about Lucy Verr and her starship, Tartarus. And I love, love, love the vials on the violin!

Steam Punk, FTW! Feel free to post what you've been listening to like crazy in your comment. ~ D. F. Krieger

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Unexpectedly Expecting

Yes, it's true. On Monday I found out I'm unexpectedly expecting. Oh, it's not like we weren't trying, but after eight months you kind of hit a slump where you think, "It'll never happen." But it did, oh it did.

All of this got me to thinking about writing. Yeah, there is a connection here. Jump with me!

I have to wonder how many writers out there are going through the motions of sending out their manuscript, but not even really thinking about the possibility of getting accepted anymore? How many, when they did receive that reply saying the publisher wanted it, blinked and had to wrap their mind around it?

I'd once compared become published to the process of giving birth to a baby in Submission Sickness. I never really thought about the comparison that conception can be as difficult as gaining acceptance from a publisher.

If you are published: Had you reached that level of dull motion when you received the big "Yes"?
If you aren't published: Have you reached that level of dull motion?
~ D. F. Krieger

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Six Sentence Sunday

Warning: Before you read any further, I must warn you the below snippet is X-rated. So don't act like you're surprised when you realize it's about sex. If you are okay with this, you may continue. As always, I thank you in advance for your comments and wish you all the best of weekends!


The dark haired man, whose name she had yet to learn, was far more brooding and silent. His chocolate eyes stared at her with a defiance that had her growing wet as she imagined forcing him to bend to her will. He was taller, his shoulders broad, and his muscles clearly defined. He worked out, and often. She imagined his body stretched out on her bed as she rode that stoic stare right off his face.

Sail My Oceans ~ D. F. Krieger

To visit the other awesome writers, please click: Six Sentence Sunday

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Necessary Evil

Our eyes locked over the baby, our faces betraying our emotions. We knew it had to be done, knew the baby would struggle, scream, cry. His resolve came quicker than mine, though I could still see an echo of sadness in his gaze as he let it slide over our son. It was time to teach our little one a valuable lesson, "Life is pain". Deep down I hated myself.

Our son finally got his first shots.

They were long overdue. I know I have mentioned this past year has been hectic. It has played emotional hell on me, but it has also put a hold up on certain activities that are normal in a kids life. We've been busily trying to smooth everything out, and today it was time to introduce our child who is almost a year and a half old to his shots. It played hell on us as parents.

If you've never met my kids, let me first inform you that though our 5 year old is a ricochet-off-the-walls, whine-over-everything hellion, our one year old is the epitome of a perfect child. He rarely cries, he always has a laugh or smile ready, he eats pretty well anything you set in front of him at the table, but doesn't put everything he finds in his mouth... We've gotten more compliments on his behavior then I could ever tally up. Now granted, our 5 year old isn't (by far) the worse kid in the world. We often get compliments on him too. Usually over his usage of 'please' and 'thank you'.

The point is that when we watched our happy, smiling, clapping baby turn eyes full of pain and torment on us today, it nearly broke us. Even my military husband was ashen and shaken when it was over (maybe because he's the one that had to hold our baby while the nurse stuck four needles into his chubby little thighs?). Sometimes you have to be the bad guy to be the good parent.

It got me thinking today, about how I have a tendency to put that style of character in my books. There is usually at least one character who performs evil but it's for the greater good...Or at least they think they are. Often they are misunderstood, disliked, and shunned in my books. At times, they are even feared. But they are always interesting to write. ~ D. F. Krieger

Monday, March 7, 2011

Mad As Hell

I'm dead in the water. It's true and I might as well confess it now. I thought it was just a funk, thought I'd get over it after all the birthday antics were over with. I was so wrong. Other than a doctor appointment that only served to anger me more, I had plenty of time to try and write.

And yet, I haven't.

In a fairy tale world a writer's job is easy: Write a book, submit the book, hear book is accepted, become published, repeat.

I hear a lot of you out there rolling yours eyes and saying "I wish". Yeah, you and me both.

My family seems to have become lost in the wayside. I wrote a book. I wrote it back in January. I still am not published. This seems to automatically equate in their heads that my writing is now downgraded from "career choice" to "hobby". What does that mean? Chaos for me.

Two months ago, when dinner was over, if I stated to my family, "I'm going to go work on my writing now", they would nod respectfully and give me space. Hours of quiet. It was bliss. I wrote 21k in eight days. I sent it to one publishing company and it was rejected. I understand why it was. I've learned so much since then that I've been really trying to put in the edits on it. Except I can't. Because now, my family hears, "I'm going to -" and they zone me out. It now means, "Yeah, okay, you'll be in your room."

It's no longer sacred. My husband and my brother are the worst. Imagine this scenario if you will: I'm dutifully typing away, I've gotten two sentences out, and my brother comes barging in my room. "I'm writing," I protest. He replies, "I know." Then proceeds to tell me about this TV show he was watching that I don't even care about. This lasts an hour. I've tried several attempts to tell him I'll discuss it with him later, which he ignores. I finally sigh and remove myself from my computer because that sacred time I tried to steal away has now been wasted. Time to get the kids snacks and around for bed.

Here's another one: I'm at my computer trying to edit a sex scene. My husband flops on the bed and begins to play God of War III with the volume loud. He left the door wide open since that's his version of watching the kids. My five year old meanders in, remembers I have foster kittens in a carrier by my desk, flops under my chair and begins to giggle as he stirs the kittens up into a mewing mess.

What does this all mean? It means, dear reader, that my mind has gotten sick and tired and decided to take a vacation. Even when I do steal moments here and there, I find myself blankly looking at my notes or stories. A voice whispers in my head, "Why bother engrossing your self? Interruption count down in five, four, three..." And it's true.

And after I've gotten everyone around for bed? Yeah, I tried writing. I just became frustrated. Now I've found myself dedicated to White Knight Chronicles on the PS3. I teasingly told someone the other day, "I play video games so I don't kill my family." I realized this morning that it's true.

I read the blog of another writer who is going through the same thing write now. Tess MacKall gave me some advice today that rang true. I've got to learn to say no. I've got to realize it's not wrong of me to want a couple of hours here or there to dedicate to my work. If that means I need to have a blow-up, then I suppose I'd better. So, I'll leave you with a quote my mom taught me from the moment I could walk. She always tried to teach me to say it for myself; and now that she's gone, I finally understand it's value. ~ D. F. Krieger

"I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore!" Howard Beale (Peter Finch) from Network (1976)

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Til Death Do Us Part

Bear with me...All computer activity has temporarily been put on hold. The chance introduction between computer keyboard and glass of tea did not go well. There was fighting. Keyboard lost...horribly. Keyboard has been dutifully buried. Arrangements for a new keyboard are in the works. Tea is gloating. ~ D. F. Krieger