The StoryFest Edition: Second Serving Sunday

A weekly peek backwards and a look ahead, from my little corner of the blogosphere…are you ready?

It’s been rather a big week, for me, in small and deep ways…

I know. That’s not very descriptive, is it? Best I can do, though, so there it is. Small, and deep. Like a trickle of lava, or water running beneath the desert…vital and powerful, but as yet unseen…

I get this way, when some epiphany, or a multitude of them, is about to break over me. It’s especially potent when the children and I are on disynchopated schedules…right now, I’m going to bed at 5am or so, and they’re staying up past noon. I don’t need as much sleep as either of these swiftly growing young people, so I’ve had a few hours each afternoon and evening to lose myself in my own projects, my own interior life…

Something’s brewing…and that’s all I can say about that.

Life Stuff:

Last Week’s Edition: Sorta Spring 

  • Click the link for my recent posting history!

Last Week’s Features:

ROW80: The Writing Challenge That Knows You Have A Life.

  • Shoots and Sprouts: I plant many seeds, but what comes up is not always just what I expected.
  • Fresh Seedlings:  Growth, mostly still beneath the surface, but starting to poke up new life and new ideas…in writing and in life.

#8Sunday: A Weekend Writing Warriors Blog Hop.

  • “You Were Awake?!” Trip confronts a rather  shocking reality, and an extremely matter-of-fact Vulcan bearing medicines.

Mindful Monday: A journey of self discovery….

WIPpet Wednesday: A date-related snippet to tempt and delight…

  • Tea on the Patio: Howard comes home late, from a secret location, and finds his grandmother and stepdaughter enjoying tea al fresco…why does this bother him?

Coffee and Conversation: I share from my life, in the hopes that you’ll share yours, too!

SoCS (Stream of Consciousness Saturday): A weekly prompt begins the stream-of-consciousness exploration!

  • “Zip, Zap, Whoosh, ZOOM!”:  While working on the engines, Trip and T’Pol also work out the differences in their languages…today, it’s onomatopoeia – a particularly human invention.

Story a Day May: My StoryFest 2015 entry:

  • Letters Unsent: After a huge shift in their relationship, a series of letters, recorded but never received, chart the course Trip and T’Pol take toward a different kind of connection.

And something new: Ready. Set. Write! (updates on Mondays, from 6/15 on)!

  • Something Different: A summer intensive provides a weekly goal-setting opportunity, and I’m diving in!

What’s Next:

June Focuses:

This Week, On The Blog:

  • ROW80 Updates: My progress on current and/or long term goals for A Round of Words in 80 Days, posted on or near Sunday and Wednesday.
  • #8sunday: Ten new sentences from my Kifo Island Chronicles novel, Generations, just a bit further on from last Wednesday’s post…
  • Next week’s Second Serving!
  • Ready. Set. Write!: My Week One Update!
  • Mindful Monday: We explore Parenting with Intention, Part 3: We Could Get Here From There!
  • WIPpet Wednesday: New stuff for April – July. I’ll be sharing whatever I’m writing, when I get to planning Wednesday’s posts. This week….a snippet from Generations, the darkest novel I’ve written to date, in Gladys’ POV.

In the Wilds of Writer-Centric Internet-Land:

So, what’s up with you? Yes, I’m a little nosy. Writer thing.

So, if you want to satisfy my perhaps inappropriate curiosity,

drop me a line or a few in the box below!

Mission Accomplished!: A Coffee and Conversation/#STaD Wrap-Up Post

When I was six, my family was driving on a highway late at night. Streaks of headlights and taillights painted the dark. For the first time, I realized that each car held people living lives as important to them as mine was to me. I wanted to know what those lives were, and to share my own.

It’s been almost two weeks since the Story A Day May Challenge ended. I’ve had time to breathe, reread some of my stories, and prepared “Unsent Letters” for StoryFest, a weekend long blitz of fictional goodness – uh, I mean good fiction, because, while the stories might not be true anywhere but in the imaginations of their authors, the goodness of the experience is anything but fictitious.

This was my fourth #STaD challenge, but the first time I’m joining the story share. I’m really looking forward to it, because my characters and life filled up my time. I didn’t interact with other participants, nearly as often as I intended. That’s a recurring theme for me during any intensely creative challenge. I intend well, and start strong – then I vanish completely immersing myself in the meat of the challenge.

So I’ll be traveling around this weekend, visiting as many fine folks as I can, and reading, reading, readingmy support will be real, if belated. 

Now, on to my personal assessment of the challenge…

Like last year, I opted to write Star Trek: Enterprise fan fiction for my ongoing series-or-something-like-it, The IDIC Romance, exploring the inter-species relationship between T’Pol, a Vulcan scientist, and Charles “Trip” Tucker III, the Chief Engineer of Enterprise. Why these two?

  • I love them, and they keep showing me pieces of their lives, and insisting that I tell their stories…Trip’s usually a laid-back guy, but T’Pol has a temper. Not something most people would expect from a member of her species, but when that temper is roused -well, she’s expert in an impressive array of martial arts, and Vulcans are stronger than humans…Ergo, the lady with the ears wins by a sandslide….

  • Enterprise offered these two complex, textured characters, and a relationship that grew bit by bit, in fits and starts – but it didn’t delve deeply into their inner realities – and that’s exactly where I most love to play. So many story ideas come to me, filling in the gaps between scenes and episodes; backstory; some that dig into what’s beneath the surface of a televised scene; some just stuff that Trip and/or T’Pol show me, and insist is true, even if it never made it to the screen…I can’t resist them and their stories. I don’t want to.
  • Because the characters are established, I have to operate within the parameters of the systems I’ve been presented. I can’t just make things happen just I want them to. And, even though the last episode was epically disappointing (I consider myself a diplomat, so I won’t say more), I can’t make things – even wrong things that make no sense – unhappen.
  • Playing in fandom means playing the hand you’re dealt. I have to respect the integrity of the characters and the canon, to play fair. More than that, I need to be true to the spirit and nuance of every scene I use or reference…I’ve been known to watch a two minute segment twenty times in a row, attending not only to dialogue and plot, but body language, intonations, positions, movements, and background. I don’t want to cheat on my characters -whether I created them, or someone else did. If I’m not going to enhance their stories, I shouldn’t play with them publicly (uh, wait, that didn’t quite sound right, did it?). It’s one thing to take all the liberties I want in private – but, for sharing, they deserve better than for me to use them for my own gratification where anyone might see them compromised.
  • All that practice noticing and protecting their integrity – it transfers to the rest of my life – my writing life, and beyond. Studying them gives me the practice and the instinct for studying others – as fodder for my writing, and as a means to more fulfilling interactions with people of the non-fictional variety.

So I come to #STaD to stretch my boundaries and to challenge my imagination. And I come back to Enterprise, to Trip and T’Pol, again and again – because they have stories to share, and because they fascinate, intrigue and compel me – and, through giving myself to them whole-heartedly, I learn more about the craft and art and discipline of writing, and about life, too.

Want to read my Story A Day 2015 stories? This link will work, for now, and I have this new blog page under construction; eventually, it will have links and useful information for every IDIC Romance story. For now, it’s got links for this year’s challenge stories, in rough, sketchily-edited form, with a rating and a brief summary. I’ve organized the stories into categories, and chronological order within the series. As stories are revised and/or submitted to fan fiction sites, I’ll update their entries.

It should, hopefully, allow visitors to select stories that will please them! And, as always, these stories are free, offered with love, as a gift to pay forward the delight that I’ve gotten from these two! =D

Do you have favorite characters? Have you ever played ‘what-if’ with their lives? Joined a challenge?

Are you looking for something fun to read this weekend? You can find many stories, in many genres, by up-and-coming authors, right here at StoryFest – including, of course, “Letters Unsent”.

So what are you waiting for? Come on in, the reading’s fine! =D

Letters Unsent: The IDIC Romance for StoryFest 2015

  Are you all ready to party?!?!?

Are you ready for more TnT fun?  

Well, then you’re definitely in the right place!

Why?

Because StoryFest is Coming!

How To Celebrate StoryFest:

  • Come to the site June 13-14, follow a link to a story, read it and comment on it.
  • If you wrote even one story in this (or any previous) StoryADay, submit one to be featured on the site’s front page June 13-14.
  • Nominate someone else’s story to be featured.
  • Spread the word: from Jun 1-14, tell everyone you know on every social network (especially the ones with readers in them) about StoryFest. Tell them to come to the site June 13-14 to read new and exciting work by up-and-coming future stars of the literary world!
  • Post the graphic on your blog, your Facebook timeline, tattoo it on your leg, whatever! (Get your graphics here)

Because so many of my readers responded so passionately to my inter-species foray into fan fiction romance, and because more than one of you have mentioned that you’re missing Trip and T’Pol, and because I totally am, too…

I offer you Letters Unsent, in its somewhat revised epistolary glory!


(click the links to see the rough draft version, and to view the prompt that inspired this story!)

Disclaimers:

This story is rated R for language, adult content, and sexual situations.

Letters Unsent

T’Pol –

I can’t believe that you used me that way! Bad enough that you went ahead and married a man we both know you don’t love – I can kinda understand that; you did it for your mom, and I can respect that, even if –

Awww hell -even if I hate it more than I can think of words for –

But what you did – you seduced me when I was too drunk to know what the hell I was doing – thought it was all some beautiful dream, until I woke up and found out it was all a nightmare…

I love you woman, you know that?! Love you

And, damn, I hate you right now.

Hate you for taking advantage of me, for dragging me back into your bed, into you

What the hell was that all about, anyway? You used me to – to commit adultery, T’Pol. Told you and told you – I’m a gentleman, or I’m supposed to be, anyway.

Gentlemen on Earth don’t jump into bed with women who just married someone else, even if it isn’t exactly a love match. You made me an adulterer, pepper- no, not callin’ you that, not anymore – T’Pol – you took something from me that I can never ever get back. You took my integrity, and yours – I can’t see you the same way, now, and I hate you for that.

Oh, damn – I hate you, and I love you, and I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do with that, how the hell I’m gonna be able to work with you after this –

Don’t come back. Call the Cap’n, have him ship your damned things to you. Stay the hell on your own world – off my ship, and outta my life –

Hope you have exactly as soulless and emotionless a life as you deserve –

No, I don’t. I want you to be happy. I want you to have more than you ever dreamed of. Passels of little pointy-eared Vulcan babies, if you want them – do you? You didn’t want babies with me – was my DNA not good enough for you? I’ll damned well bet his is, though….

You know what? The hell with you. The hell with you and your damned cryptic ways, your fucking logic, your goddamned control – ha, what a laugh that is – when you – you broke my heart and stomped all over it, T’Pol, and then you leave me the damned booze, knowing what I’d do with it, and you got good and high, didn’t you, and came and – damned near raped me –

The hell with you, T’Pol. If I never see your damned beautiful face again, it’ll be way too soon for me!

Awww, hell, I can’t send this – not to you. Not knowing your expression won’t even change when you hear it – forget the whole damned thing – I’m just done with it, and you….computer, delete it.”

**

Trip –

I – I don’t know how to begin this letter. As you know, apologies are a human convention, and not a Vulcan one. Perhaps, if I were human, I would be better able to make an apology that could in some way compensate for – for the harm I’ve caused you. Harm I know I’ve inflicted upon you, but which I don’t fully understand.

Your emotions – they are alien to me.

And they aren’t. Perhaps it is a gift, and, at the same time, a curse, that I have lived among your people, worked alongside you, learned something more of you than what my people normally believe of you.

Most Vulcans can remain unaware of the depth and complexity of human relationships. I cannot, not anymore.

Although it is illogical, I feel your pain. In the way you left, and in your silence.

I’ve hurt you, in ways I don’t fully understand, any more than I understand my own motivations in returning to my mother’s house, in engaging in sexual relations with you, when I know that your understanding of what makes a marriage differs strongly from the contract I entered into with Koss.

In my own defense, I can say only that I – I needed you-

No.

I need you.

It’s not logical.

That makes it no less true.

I need you. My life, without you, is – empty. Hollow. Desolate.

These are emotions that have no translation in my language. Vulcans aren’t meant to define and label our emotions; we are meant to suppress them, when we can’t repress them. We are meant to separate emotion from thought and action, and behave logically.

I didn’t do this, as regards my feelings for you.

I don’t know how. What I – what I feel for you, Trip – I have no words by which to define the emotions, and I won’t use human words I don’t fully comprehend the implications of – but these emotions are more powerful than I am.

Perhaps I should remain here, but – but I know that I will not.

I can’t.

I need you.

I want you.

There is a human expression that once seemed more illogical and inaccurate than most. I didn’t understand it then – but I believe I do, now.

My heart is broken. You entered my life, Awakened me, made me something other than what I might have been – something that isn’t human, precisely, but that is no longer wholly Vulcan.

You’ve made me feel, and I can’t stop.

But my emotions aren’t the purpose of this missive.

I’m not certain what is.

I don’t know how to apologize to you, Trip. I can’t see anything I can say or do which will offer you any healing whatsoever.

I suspect this letter has been more for me, than for you – and it isn’t serving to clarify or purge my emotional chaos as regards you –

**

My T’Pol –

Daughter, I’ve meditated on this communication, and still I find that I don’t know how to begin, or how to assist you as you heal. I’m uncertain whether you can heal.

I’ve encouraged you to make choices that I thought would be logical and beneficial. However, I was lacking crucial information, and it’s now evident that my advice wasn’t best suited to your circumstances,that the logic I employed neglected the realities of your life.

I watched you with your human lover, daughter. Yes, I know that you were intimately and romantically linked, prior to the incident following your marriage. Perhaps you’re unaware, but the connection between you was palpable.

When you brought Commander Tucker here, to my home, I considered it a dishonor. That was an illogical and prejudicial determination. He is the first human I’ve met, and he has shown me that there is much I assumed about his species that is not true.

Daughter, he loves you. Perhaps it will surprise you, that I speak of love. Such things aren’t relevant in Vulcan marriages. But this human, this man, loves you enough to sacrifice his desire to be with you, to belong to you and claim you for his own, rather than cause you any more pain and confusion.

I urged you to Koss. I believe now that I was wrong. You’ve changed, T’Pol, in many ways. You are no longer only of this world, nor should you be. You are more, now. You belong not only to Vulcan, but to the humans with whom you’ve made your life, the humans who accepted you when your duty with them damaged you.

Humans are clearly more open, more accepting, than our species. This man loves you, honors you in every choice he makes. Against this, what can a Vulcan marriage offer you? Children? Perhaps, I was wrong about this, as well. If you had children with Commander Tucker, they would have two parents to care for them and tend their needs. Would it matter, if others didn’t understand? If I didn’t?

I thought these were vital matters. Now, I’m uncertain. Perhaps it’s too late- Commander Tucker seems to view marriage, as all things, far more emotionally than we do. Perhaps that is at the root of human nature. I know that he’s deeply troubled, daughter, as you are. He’s concerned for your welfare. He didn’t betray your confidence, but he demanded, most passionately, that I ‘take good care’ of you.

I’ve perhaps failed in doing so. There are things, my T’Pol, that I haven’t shared with you. Perhaps I should have, before you married Koss. Maybe you would have chosen differently, rather than putting my career ahead of your needs and desires, or your chosen mate’s. I thought to give you security against the questionable and controversial changes that contributed to my dismissal, and I allowed you to believe that you were the sole cause of my recent difficulties.

There is more to this situation than you know, and more than I will tell you now. You’re ill, and need time and space to recover – physically and otherwise.

I see now that this communication is ill-advised. I’ll allow you the space and freedom I didn’t, while you were with me, and, perhaps, if you return to Enterprise and your human colleagues, you’ll find a path that is beneficial for you, and also for Commander Tucker.

I know you’ve gone to Mount Seleya. I’ll save this letter to give to you at a time when you are more prepared to receive it.

**

Cap’n –

Not sure how to say this – hell, I haven’t been sober since – well, since it happened.

Since what happened? Yeah, I can hear you askin’.

Since she ripped my heart out, shredded it, and let my red human blood spill all over those damned sands of hers.

You know me an’ desert worlds. Shoulda never let you talk me into goin’ with her. Thought it was about perfect – you wantin’ me to go, take care of her, help her – the perfect excuse to be alone together.

Well, I took care of her, all right- neither one of us wore a damned stitch of clothing, once I got my tour of engineering. She said we’d been on the damned planet for six hours before we came up for air enough to get dressed and disembark – she’d know, I guess, with that damned computer brain of hers. Probably assessed and rated my performance every time we ‘had sexual relations’ – yeah, that’s exactly how she puts it. Makes it sound real damned romantic, doesn’t it? Like we’re two computer systems interfacin’, or something, with no passion at all….

But it’s not like that, Cap’n. You might not believe it, but she’s the most passionate woman I’ve ever met, let alone made love with. She turned my life and my opinion of what Vulcans are right on its ear- she walked right into my soul and set up camp there.

Thing is, I love her. Not just a little – with everything I am. Know how I took you to that jazz club you hated, told you I met the most beautiful woman in the universe there, only I didn’t exactly meet her?

Well – surprise, surprise – it was her. Betcha didn’t see that one comin’ did ya? Yup – me an’ T’Pol – we shared something that night, somethin’ I don’t even pretend to understand – but there’s no mistakin’ what it did to me.

How the hell stupid am I, to think it did somethin’ to her, too? Shoulda listened when she told me that she was just ‘exploring human sexuality’. Shoulda known it was too good, and a helluva lot too illogical, to last. She got what she wanted, whatever the hell that was, and now – well, now she’s married to him – and where the hell does that leave me?

On Kov’s transport, that’s where, in this bunk – you wouldn’t believe how comfortable Vulcan bunks are, Cap’n! – all alone, wishin’ I could scratch her itchy back – did you know her back itches, like, constantly, that she sits there on the Bridge all day, repressin’ it – that and bein’ chilly, cause we keep things about 25 degrees cooler than what’s room temperature, to her? No, betcha she never said a word – doesn’t want anyone to know she’s uncomfortable

Can almost feel her fingers on me – oh damn, those fingers. There’s another one you wouldn’t believe. Helluva sexy woman, and I’ve seen you lookin’ – you, and Malcolm, and even Travis – god knows, I love gettin’ all tangled up with that body, in that body- but you’re all missing the sexiest part of her, right there in the open on the ends of her hands. Do you have any idea how sensitive those fingers are? How much she feels through them? What I can do to her – aww, hell – just by touching them? What she can do to me with them?

Do ya know why Vulcans don’t wanna shake hands with us, Cap’n? Why they use a numbing agent on their fingertips if they think they might have to touch us?

Well, I do. And I understand….damn, if only her fingers were here now –

Oh, hell. Sorry about that – guess you can tell by the noises I kinda forgot what I was doin’ here- well, I’m not sending anyone this letter- gonna try ta either sleep it off or get drunk all over again…

**

Koss –

I request a formal meeting to renegotiate and clarify the terms of our legal responsibilities to one another. Recent events in both our lives suggest that a logical re-evaluation of our arrangement, now that we have complied with the parental and cultural edicts to marry as we were Promised, is not only essential to the strength of our alliance, but may also prove personally agreeable to us both, according each of us the greatest ability to conduct our personal affairs in a manner in keeping with our disparate natures.

In summary, the terms I seek to discuss are as follows:

Sexual fidelity, and retaining choice of the partners with whom we may each choose to engage in sexual relations is of particular interest to me. Honor compels me to inform you that, although our marriage bond will not be consummated until, and not other than, the occurrence of pon farr, I have chosen, and may again choose, to engage in sexual relations with another. I’ll bear him no child; as per our current arrangement, any progeny I bear will carry your genetic inheritance.

I have no objection whatever with you engaging in any form of sexual relations with any partner you desire, so long as matters of health and discretion are respected.

I hereby request the same freedoms.

No – this is too formal, too accepting. It grants too much power over what is and should be my own life – and that’s what I have come to Seleya for – to reclaim what is, and shall be, none other’s but my own!

**

T’Pol –

Sorry I ran out on you like that. I should’ve stayed. Should’ve made damned sure you were all right before I left you all alone on that planet.

Only, you’re not all alone, are you? It’s just me who is. You’ve got a fine upstanding Vulcan husband. Notice he’s got blue eyes – does that make it easier for you to fool yourself, or is one set just the same as another, to you? Does it even matter?

When you look into his eyes, will he see what I see when I look at you? Will you show him how funny you can be? How scared and vulnerable? How adorable? How stubborn and wrongheaded and unexpectedly kind? Will you be as jealous with him? Damn, will you be as sensual and irresistible to him as you are to me?

I remember when you were first telling me about this whole marriage thing. You said it was expected that you would eventually ‘develop an affection’ for one another. Will you? Is that what you did with me? ‘Developed an affection’?

What the hell were we, there, at the end, T’Pol? Were we going where I thought we were, or was it all in my head, or my heart?

Why do I feel like you love me the way I love you – well, not the same, but the same, or at least with the same intent and intensity? Why do I feel like you’re hurting as much as I am? Or maybe more? Like maybe I was wrong before, and your trellium was the same as the Andorian ale was for me – only more necessary, because it’s you and trellium?

Have you told Koss about your addiction? About how trapped you are? What it does to you? Are you going to? Pepperpot, I hate that I’m not there with you. That I left you like that, all alone, hurt, high and confused- needing me….the way I need you.

Do you need me, t’hy’la? Am I still that, to you? Can I be, with you married to him?

Did you want this, all along? A neat and tidy Vulcan life? No damned chaotic human messing everything up?

No, I can’t think you did. Maybe once, before you came to Enterprise. Before Fusion – but then, why would you even have gone there if you wanted the complete Vulcan package? But if you ever did, I’m sure you don’t now. I’ve watched you – this last year’s been seven kinds of hell and more, for all of us – but you were really coming into yourself. Not turning human – just – just giving yourself permission to be exactly who you are. I know all these emotions you can’t control anymore scare you, make you real nervous – ‘agitated’, as you used to say.

I hope you come home. Even if all we are is friends, now. Even if we can’t even figure out a way to be that much.

Because I think you need us, T’Pol. I think you fit us now, and we fit you, better than Vulcan can. We were there when you broke. We all broke, too, and we won’t hold it against you. We know your strengths – and damn, pepperpot, you’ve the strongest person I’ve ever met. But we also know that you’re vulnerable, and how. We can protect you from yourself, and you can do that for us, too.

But only if you’re here, T’Pol. We can only support each other if you don’t disappear into the sands.

I don’t know how I’m goin’ to handle you being here, and married to him – but I know I’ll do my damndest to be OK with it. Might not be easy, but this is your home, and mine, and – well, I’ll figure something out.

I don’t know whether I should send this letter or not. Can’t remember if I sent you anything before this- I’ve been – well, I haven’t exactly stopped drinkin’ yet, and, without you to pick me up off the deck plating – things are all kinda blurry…

Maybe I’d better just get rid of this –

**

Captain Archer –

I wish to speak with you on matters of professional – and personal – significance. However, attempts to contact you at your residence of record have failed. I hope that you’re well, and recovering.

I have, after due consideration, decided to accept Starfleet’s offer of a commissioned position. I’m certain that you will be contacted by both the High Command and Admiral Forrest regarding the specifics of the – negotiations. I’ll comply with all requirements agreed upon by these agencies, to the best of my abilities. I’ve revealed my addiction to trellium-D, and the measures we have thus far devised to deal with its impact upon my life, and my duty. It may provide enough of a concern to negate my service aboard Enterprise in any capacity; if so, I’ll leave your crew with regret.

I’ve been changed by my service with you, in ways that are difficult to explain, and have proven impossible, thus far, to reconcile into a strictly Vulcan life. However, I am Vulcan, and, as such, there are certain societal expectations. It has become necessary, for reasons I’m not at liberty to divulge, to attend to one of these expectations, and formalize my marriage contract.

Generally, Vulcans don’t speak of such things- however, the duties of a spousal arrangement on this world differ significantly from what I’ve been able to surmise of comparable human pairbonding arrangements. My husband has agreed to allow me to pursue my career, although it will mean a variance from tradition. However, there will come a time, likely within the next three years, when I must return to Vulcan and to Koss, for an as-yet indeterminate length of time. The reasons for this, I’m unable to discuss with you. However, there can be no delay, when the time comes, regardless of the mission we are currently embarked upon, and there may be little warning.

I thought it best that you know that, at the outset.

That concludes the professional portion of this communication. What follows is – intensely personal, and of far greater import.

Captain, I consider you my friend. You’ve proven you can be trusted, and, in many ways, you’ve overcome your mistrust of my species. The term ‘friend’ is a human concept, not a Vulcan one, but, as I understand it, we are friends.

That’s beneficial, because I’ve never needed the counsel of a friend more than I do, now.

I didn’t need your friendship as much when I confided in you regarding my addiction, nor when I was sent to apprehend Menos, and remembered Jossen. I didn’t need it as much when Tolaris inflicted the mind-meld upon me.

Before I explain further, I must inform you that I’ve been – much affected – by trellium, in the last weeks, to the detriment of my own reason and control. I’m not employing it now- but, Captain – Jonathan – I am in great pain, and I know no way to ease it.

Worse, I’ve harmed Trip, hurt him in a way I’m uncertain he can recover from.

As I consider you my friend, Trip is certainly my t’hy’la. There’s no direct human translation for the term, as it encompasses Vulcan concepts and realities that have no analog among your species.

There are, however, human words that hint at the shape of this connection. Friend. Brother. Companion. Mate. Beloved. Soulmate. Kindred. Lover. Partner. Cherished.

Does it surprise you, that I see him so? That I can?

That, feeling as I do for him, I would choose to willingly marry another?

Vulcans, Captain, are not human. Marriage is a separate issue, a contract entered into for the continued security and stability of my culture, for reasons I can’t discuss with you.

But human marriages are different. And I believe that’s what Trip wanted – perhaps still wants. It’s what I wanted – what I want.

I’m a Vulcan. What I chose willingly, I did for reasons other than any desire to marry Koss, or hurt Trip.

To hurt myself, in hurting him.

I did what I felt I must; I explained to Trip as well as I was able. He- accepted my reasons, and my decision. I can’t say he was either calm or happy about it, initially. I suspect that you’d find this story even more unbelievable if I attempted to convince you of that. You’ll perhaps have less difficulty believing that Trip stood for me at my wedding, wearing my father’s robes. That he supported me, through his anger and pain. That he longed to make a grand gesture in keeping with his idealistic and impetuous nature, but that he restrained himself, because he is, as he says, a gentleman, at least as I have come to understand the word.

He is also, however imperfectly, a diplomat. He supported me, and, in doing so, honored my world and my culture. No other human has ever attended a Vulcan marriage ceremony, and he comported himself far more properly than I myself did.

Perhaps he might have recovered from the fact of my marriage, particularly if I had had the opportunity, once the ceremony was complete, to detail for him the manner in which this contract differs from what he may believe it to be.

However – Jonathan, I was weak. I don’t have words to explain to you what it means, to have surrendered my t’hy’la, for whatever reason, no matter how valid. I am – bereft, desolate, empty, hollow – and I know that he is the same – and more.

I – injected a – a great deal of trellium. I can’t say how much; I kept no records. I used my supply, and manufactured more. I returned to my mother’s home, knowing Trip was there, knowing too that he would drink the Andorian ale that I left for him.

Jonathan – I’m unclear on precisely what happened next, beyond that it involved a considerable amount of sexual activity, over several days. For me, there was solace and beauty in our connection, although I hadn’t meant to do it- or don’t think that I did – it’s difficult to know, now, what I thought then.

But Trip helped me because I needed him, because he feels that thing known as – as love, among your people – for me. And because I am stronger, and, being Vulcan, I was – persistent. He helped me, mated with me, because that’s what I needed of him. For days I kept him for my own, claimed him –

No. I won’t think of that, not now. I can’t, and remain rational. I need him, Jonathan. I want him.

I fear the intensity of my emotions, my desires.

I fear my return, and what I might do, if I can’t control myself.

I’ve hurt Trip, who is a gentleman, and sees our – our sexual relations conducted after my marriage as a breach of my marriage contract. He’s angry at me, and himself. When he left me, I wasn’t in a condition to alleviate his pain. I believe that he is or was drinking heavily.

I’m returning to Enterprise. I know now that it’s my home, as much as yours, or Trip’s, and that I belong nowhere else. I’m returning because I need to be near Trip, for reasons I don’t understand myself. He is my t’hy’la, and I’m certain to cause him, and myself, further pain. My pain I accept; it’s a logical consequence of my decision to marry another.

His, though – Captain – Jonathan, please believe me when I say that I never intended to cause Trip any pain. I wished to live my life with him, perhaps to be his wife, one day, to be the mother of his children, as I was, in another reality. I wished – so many things. Illogical things. Things that are perhaps not possible, in a human life. Or a Vulcan one.

Perhaps only on Enterprise could they have happened.

I ask you to – to support him. To offer him what I can’t – simple human friendship. Comfort. Solace. Understanding that he is in pain.

I didn’t intend to cry- or to say so much. I don’t know that this will help. I suspect I should take time to consider whether it will.

**

T’Pol –

I’ve tried before to record a letter to you – at least, I think I did. I seem to remember at least a couple – but never quite got around to it, or I deleted them. Might’ve just been talking to myself, or having a hallucination – yeah, it’s been a wild ride, this last couple of weeks – who knows, might just delete this one, too…

At first, I thought it would help to just stay the hell drunk – so drunk I could barely remember my own name, or why the hell I was drinking. Remember when I puked on your boots, and you took me home, showered me, put m in your bed, let me – well, you know what you let me do, that next morning- and hid me out till I sobered up enough not to be a danger to myself or anybody else ?

Well, this was a helluva lot worse than that. A real, first-rate bender. I’m pretty sure a hard-core alcoholic couldn’t have done better. I’ve never in my life been so damned drunk for so damned long. I’m not sure my liver’s ever gonna forgive me for this one.

I’m sober now.

Maybe that should make this easier. I don’t know. It hasn’t so far.

What we did together, after your wedding – I can’t pretend I understand what drove you that way. But I think I can – well, I don’t want to say ‘forgive you’ – not for being honest and doing what you wanted, or what you needed. In a weird kind of way, I guess- well, I’m honored that it’s me you wanted then, and not him. The way you said you were honored when I – no, not going to think about that anymore.

I’ve tormented myself about those days, T’Pol, and that’s why I stayed so drunk for so long – but then, I think of how you were –

I’m pretty damned sure that was your first bender, ever, pepperpot. And that you had no idea in hell how to handle yourself, or how to get through it.

How much trellium was there, and for how long? Do you even know? Can you?

How the hell could I put your fidelity to a marriage you damned sure didn’t want to be in, not then, whether or not you do now, ahead of your feelings, what you needed?

I don’t understand exactly why you married him, pepperpot, and I don’t think I ever really will. I’m not Vulcan. But I know that they cowed you, broke you, made you do something you didn’t want to do.

Because of what happened next, I know that you still want me – or you did, anyway. I shouldn’t have left you, that way. I shouldn’t have left you at all. It was a helluvan ungentlemanly thing to do.

I should’ve waited until you could tell me what you needed – besides the obvious, falling-all-over-each-other-in-bed stuff. I get the idea that there’s a helluva lot more to this than what I know, and that I tucked my tail between my legs and ran off just when you needed me the most – before you were anywhere near sober enough or stable enough to know what that was, yourself.

I know I hurt you by leaving you that way. I hope I didn’t make it worse. I hope you’re able to catch hold of some happiness with that Koss fellow- he seems likable enough, and friendlier than most of the Vulcans I’ve met. I know he’ll be good to you; I could see it in his eyes, that he won’t hurt you.

But all that’s not the biggest reason I’m recording this letter, now.

I got back to work yesterday. It feels good to be back with my engines – to be sober enough to trust myself here, in my Engine Room. Place is still empty, till you get here tomorrow- Cap’n and I are the only ones on the ship, right now. I’m glad – I’m not ready to deal with anyone yet. Cap’n’s busy – and I’m glad for that, too.

He told me, though, that you’re coming home. That you’re a full Commander now, with shiny new jewelry on your sweet catsuits – not sure how I feel about you not dressin’ like us. I mean, it wouldn’t be the same, with you in a jumpsuit, and I know you’d probably be too cold without your extra insulation- but, damn – how am I gonna see you, day after day after day, in those clothes, knowing what’s underneath, remembering you in just your skin, arching back, displaying for me and only me…?

Aww, hell, T’Pol. This is gonna be so hard.

I think I’m glad you’re coming home, pepperpot – but I might not act like it, when you get here tomorrow. I might not have anything to say to you- this hurts, so, so bad. More because I know I cheated us out of whatever chance we had to resolve those last crazy days, and I left you there and hurting, on a world that doesn’t have any patience for that. I hope you went back to Koss, and he helped you –

And I hope that you didn’t- that I’m still your only lover, your t’hy’la….

Because I love you, T’Pol, and I want you. So much that I don’t know what to do with everything I feel about you- about us. Why do I feel like this marriage of yours is a farce, that it’s you and I who really belong together?

Why do I feel like I’m a huge part of why you’re coming home, coming back to us?

Why do I want to grab you, take you to bed, and stay there until neither of us can take any more? Why do I want to hide from you, pretend I don’t care one way or another that you’re here?

How the hell am I gonna see you, work with you – awww, hell, smell you?!

Am I supposed to pretend we don’t mean anything to one another? That we never did, and never will?

I sure as hell hope you’ve got this figured out like you do everything else, pep- hang on, Cap’n headed this way, so I gotta go –

**

Trip-

I’m approaching Spacedock, and Enterprise. I don’t know if you’ll be waiting at the airlock with the Captain – I don’t know if you have any desire to see me. I know I’ve wounded you, with my actions. Despite having attempted to compose a letter to you, I’ve failed to have any contact with you. I’m uncertain contact would have been wise, in any event, or if I wish to see you, where others might observe. My control, where you are concerned, too often fails, as you know perhaps far too well.

I’m still Awakened to you, and you alone, t’hy’la. I still desire you, and I don’t know if my control will be sufficient to suppress my impulse to seize you, to claim you for my own, to offer myself to you. I don’t know if the Captain’s presence, or anyone’s, will be enough to deter me, if you are there. Perhaps this is a permanent affect of the trellium; I haven’t used it since the day you left Vulcan, and yet I still –

I’ll do what I’m able to repress the emotions – but I want you, Trip. I suspect that that is a reality that will not change, regardless of circumstance.

I can’t defend or explain my actions in the days following my marriage. I was – deeply altered, and I offer no excuse. I would offer an apology, in the manner of your people, but, as I understand the custom, it’s meant to include some remediation of the offense, and I can provide none for the wrong I’ve done to you.

Would it help to explain to you the nature of the contract I have entered into with Koss? That it is a contract? That he’s not attracted to me, or in fact to any woman? Would you find solace, or rage, if you knew how we will use one another, when pon farr comes? That is uncertain he will desire me then, but, if he needs me, or I him, that we are duty-bound to serve one another in that fashion? That the consequence of denying that duty is death? That I may bear children only to him, and no other?

Perhaps you wouldn’t have wished it, but I want to have your children, Trip. Before Lorian, I was uncertain we could reproduce, but Phlox has said he doesn’t feel it would be difficult to combine human and Vulcan DNA. We might perhaps have been able to conceive naturally –

But enough. The transport is preparing to dock; there’s no further time for this. On my world, we have a phrase which, in rough terms, translates to ‘What is, is’. I use it now, as I surrender myself to whatever will be, between us.

Kaiidth.

If you liked what you read here, pop on over to StoryFest, and read another, and another, and…..c’mon, you know one’s never enough! =D I’ll b sharing my favorite reads on my social media venues all  weekend, so check out my Facebook page or Twitter (over there on  the right!), and see what’s up!  Or just click the link or the icon below, which will take you to the party!

C’mon in! We have stories to tell!

“You Were Awake!?”: The IDIC Romance for #WeWriWa #8Sunday

Give Me a Quill Over a Sword, All Weekend Long!

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors’ Eight Sentence Sunday

the weekly hop for everyone who loves to write!

Sign up below with your name, blog and email and share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Your post needs to be live between 12:00 noon on Saturday 05/30/15 and 9:00 AM on Sunday 05/31/15. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their #8sunday posts.

For me it’s a second chance to share a small snippet of my current writing. Most weeks, I tie them back to my WIPpet Wednesday  post, so reading both can give a deeper peek…

Disclaimers:

  • Trip, T’Pol, and Star Trek: Enterprise belong to Paramount, even if Paramount has forgotten all about them. They insist they have more stories, and that I tell them…

  • This is an extrapolated “missing scene” story, detailing some of what might have happened during the months’ long and scarcely shown return to Earth in S2E26 “The Expanse”.  Spoilers for that episode.

This snippet is rated PG-13 for suggestiveness, allusions to alcohol use, and language.

This excerpt follows immediately after last week’s WIPpet Wednesday post, “So Sorry”. The Story A Day May prompt was a two-voice, dialogue-only story.

The first sober morning after days of being falling-down drunk is never easy – and it’s even trickier when you wake up naked, and in, shall we say, an extremely compromising position, in the Vulcan first officer’s bed… and she seems to have no clue why you’re apologizing to her…

I’m offering ten sentences today, because the new rules let me, and because it makes the passage so much better! =D

“You Were Awake?!”

“Commander -”

“Mind if I don’t look at you? My head feels like it’s about to fall off, and I – I just can’t, after I woke you up that way- hey, what the hell is that?”

“Inaprovaline, for the pain. Anti-nausea medication. A broad spectrum vitamin supplement designed to replenish what you’ve depleted, over the last few days. Commander – Trip – I wasn’t asleep.”

“You weren’t asleep?! You mean you were awake?! For – for that?!”

What will T’Pol answer? Will Trip understand, or make her understand why he’s so sorry? Will he be able to look at her, ever again? Will the medications help? Will Trip forgive himself? And maybe most importantly – where are his clothes, anyway?

For those who really want to know, here’s the “Stuck in Space” arc:

Beginning next week, I’m letting these two have some privacy to -ahem – work things out, if they can. I’ll be offering excerpts from Generations,  the second novel in my Kifo Island Chronicles near-future fantasy series.

If you’re a fan of Trip and T’Pol, though – don’t worry. They have plenty left to say, and neither one is known for being especially willing to take no for an answer, so I’m sure they’ll have more to share…eventually…after Trip finds his clothes…or decides they’re just not that important…

Want more #8Sunday?  The icon is your portal!

Need to Know: The IDIC Romance for SoCS

Rowing merrily down my Stream of Consciousness, every Saturday! Badge by Doobster @Mindful Digressions.

This post is part of Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday meme -an unedited stream of consciousness piece that ties into the weekly prompt: the word “information.

I used the prompt word several times, in this post.

While I was getting ready to write something in FocusWriter, I happened upon my Story a Day May file for The IDIC Romance. I’m writing a darker novel, this month, and I miss my inter-species lovers, so I stopped for a bit to reread and reminisce…and I found the passage below, which contains the word ‘information’ completely coincidentally, since it was written last month.

Maybe more oddly, though, it fits the theme I was going to explore in today’s stream-of-consciousness passage – that information is power, power that is too often withheld from those who might use it to better their own circumstances by those who benefit from their ignorance and subjugation…

Governments do this. Schools do it.

So do parents, far too often.

Cultures can do it, too.

That’s what happens to T’Pol, here. It’s not so much that her culture intended to withhold information from her; it’s that there was no understanding that she would need to know these things, that her chosen mate wouldn’t be of her own species, that, in a culture where children are pairbonded at age seven to ensure the stability of society as a whole, that she would be in a position to choose her own mate, in the first place…

But, whatever the reasons, information was what she needed. Information gave her a certain power, even when it was too uncomfortable to take in except in extremely small, measured doses. The freedom to access the information she sought, and consider it, then share what she learned with the man she desires…that opens up a whole new level of sharing between them.

Sometimes, you just need to know, y’know?

Disclaimers:

Trip T’Pol, and all the rest of Star Trek: Enterprise belong to Paramount. I play with them strictly for my own amusement – and perhaps yours, too. And because T’Pol tells me to – and she’s rather formidable! =)

This is an extrapolated story, occuring a few hours after the events in S3E15Harbinger. Spoilers for that episode.

This story is rated R for adult content and sexual themes.

Proceed at your own risk!

Private Intercultural Research”

T’Pol had anticipated that he would ask, that he would want to know why she would keep a book she didn’t read. She had prepared a reply, but now it felt – insincere. If she intended to mate with him, didn’t she owe him her truth, or as much of it as she dared to give him?

“I haven’t read it in part because it is – unsettling to me. As I’ve said, Vulcans don’t discuss sexuality.”

“I guess I can understand that, but not why you’d buy it, in that case.”

“There was – something – I wanted to research. I asked the proprietor of the shop to mark the page in question, so that I could peruse it – somewhat more comfortably.”

“You must really have wanted that information. What was it?”

T’Pol was unable to say. All she could do was to reach for the book, and hand it to him, then rise, and walk the few steps to his window, so that she didn’t need to face him as he made the discovery. Would he remember? Would he be angry? Would he feel that her interest was intrusive?

Would he understand?

“You want me to look at this?” She nodded, watching his indistinct reflection in the glass. “Are you going to give me a clue, here, or do I need to guess at what page you wanted to see?”

She couldn’t answer, couldn’t speak the name she had memorized in those first days, although it was etched in flames in her soul.

“All right, then – time to put my detective hat on, I guess.” He set the book into the place she’d occupied, and ran a finger across the image embossed on the cover. “If all the art’s this lovely, I’m hoping you’ll let me borrow this, if you aren’t going to look at any more than the one page. But we can talk about that later, I guess.” He stood the book on its end, then allowed it to fall open.

Trip stared at the pages that were revealed. He drew in his breath sharply, and T’Pol’s stomach clenched tightly, as though it would reject the plomik broth she’d eaten at lunch. Trip got up, and walked away a step or two, and she could feel his gaze on her, even though she couldn’t see his face from this position. Then he came back, walking around and staring at the book, his tongue pouched in his cheek. Then he dragged a hand across his mouth, and said, “Congress of the Crow…T’Pol? Wanna talk about it? Can you? Because, I gotta say, this kind of raises more questions than it answers.”

“I – wished to – know how – how to – “She couldn’t turn to face him, or go on.

“How to do – this?”

“Yes.”

If you don’t know what was on the pages, you can look up the information easily enough – definitely a benefit of this remarkable time we live in. You might even find pictures as lovely as those in T’Pol’s book…And if you’d like to know what happens next for Trip and T’Pol, read the full version of “Private Intercultural Research.

Have you tried stream-of consciousness writing? Come join in – there’s just a few simple rules.

Get more SoCS right here!

Let this be your portal!

“So Sorry”: The IDIC Romance for WIPpet Wednesday

Welcome to WIPpet Wednesday, a weekly blog hop which encourages writers to move WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date. It’s hosted by the lovely K.L. Schwengel, maven of bad boys, stock dogs, and flying monkeys! She’s our fearless shepherd…or something like that, anyway.

I’ve got one last snippet from this year’s The IDIC Romance  Story a Day May challenge. This excerpt comes from “Pillow Talk?” the sequel to “Sticking Point”  and “My Flame, My Nectar”. The challenge was to write a two-character, dialogue-only piece. And of course I listened in while T’Pol and Trip had an extremely adorkable conversation, and of course Trip had to be hung over and embarrassed (umm, yeah, literally!)….and T’Pol, of course, was trying to be logical and practical, but not quite managing…and utterly missing what might be obvious, if she were only human…

These stories are Star Trek: Enterprise  fan fiction, dealing with the inter-species relationship between T’Pol, a Vulcan scientist, and Trip Tucker, the extremely human Chief Engineer…

 Explore any or all of this year’s The IDIC Romance stories, in rough drafts.

Disclaimers:

  • Trip, T’Pol, and Star Trek: Enterprise belong to Paramount, even if Paramount has forgotten all about them…I only want to allow them the chance to live the lives they keep insisting on living in my head…

  • This is an extrapolated “missing scene” story, detailing some of what might have happened during the months’ long and scarcely shown return to Earth in S2E26 “The Expanse”. Spoilers for – well, nothing. This is pure imaginary TnT fluff, and I make no apologies, no matter who else is sorry!  =)

We last saw Trip drunk in the Mess Hall, where he was sick on T’Pol’s boots, and fell down. T’Pol offered assistance, but wasn’t certain he’d accept – and she’s dealing with some rather potent emotional unrest of her own…

Trip let T’Pol help him. She brought him to her quarters, where no one would likely look for him, where there was no alcohol, and, although she didn’t say this to him, where she could be alone with him. She stripped him, showered him, and put him naked into her bed before putting on her pajamas. After a weak but gentlemanly protest, Trip surrendered to the simple human need for physical contact, and asked her to sleep with him. T’Pol had already decided that she’d allow any level of contact he wanted (she was, umm, more than a bit revved up, and not at all prepared for it), so she climbed in – and he fell asleep with her curled beside him, her ear against his chest as she listened to his human heart.

Now, it’s the following morning, and there’s a rather rude awakening…because Reasons.

WIPpet Math:

  • Today is June 3, 2015.
  • 3 short dialogue paragraphs, plain and simple.

And now…. the snippet!

“Oh, hell. Oh, damn. Oh hell. I’m so sorry – ”

“Why?”

“Do you seriously need me to tell you? Are you going to make me say it? Ow, damn, my head hurts. I know I should be cursing myself out – and I promise I will later, and I’ll get the hell out of here and try like hell to find a way to make it up to you, though I sure as hell don’t know how I’m gonna do that – oh hell – ”

What just happened here? Why is Trip apologizing? Why does he need so many ‘hells’? Why doesn’t T’Pol know why he’s so sorry?

What will happen next?

Well, of course I’m not just going to come out and tell you! You can come back on Sunday, though, and learn a little more..or you can read the entire story arc here:

Next week, we go back to Kifo Island, for another snippet from Generations.

Looking for more WIPpet Snippets? Something less apologetic and confusing, perhaps? Well, hop along with the little blue froggy; assorted genres, styles, and lengths of WIPpetty lily-pads to choose from, and writers eager to hear from you! =D

 

Growing in a New Direction: May 31, 2015 (Well,OK, June 1….)

ROWin’ on to the end of Round Two!

Okay, I know that date up there is just a bit, shall we say, outdated. I went wandering in my mind, Sunday, as the weather shifted from hot to chilly and wet, and as I prepared to move from May and into June – and the day just kind of got away from me…

I seem to need that, when I transition from one major focus to another.

It’s exacerbated this time by the weather, and a full moon, a daughter still dealing with residual hormonal messiness, and…

I’m moving from a month of shameless reveling in something I loved writing – The IDIC Romance – to something Completely Different.  I’m no less passionate about the story I’m about to return to…

But it’s not for the faint of heart. It’s a story that’s grabbed me, demanded to be told…and it delves into some of the darker and uglier places the human soul can hold. It won’t be easy, or especially comfortable – but, for so many reasons, I know that this story I wish I didn’t have in my head and my soul is the one I need to write.

Growth is often uncomfortable, uncertain, and unsettling, like the weather tonight…but to refuse to grow when there’s a need is to stagnate.

But first, this slightly belated update. I’ll be posting my End of May Round Two Update and June goals on Wednesday; for now, here’s how my May goals ended up.

My final Story a Day tales:

  • Interspecies Medical Exchange:  Doctor Phlox observes and contemplates interspecies interaction in his Sickbay.
  • Not Jealousy:  Confronted with too much evidence of a relationship he doesn’t want to accept, Captain Archer chooses denial…
  • Artistry in the Aftermath:In the wake of tragedy, Trip learns that T’Pol has a previously-undiscovered artistic side.
  • Promises and Choices: An unseen witness to a private interlude contemplates its impact upon four lives.

And the long-awaited May 22 story (nearly 8K words!)

  • “A Watched Kettle”:T’Pol’s got a secret mission from the Vulcan High Command, and only Trip can see how ‘agitated’ it’s making her….

The Big Scoop on what I’ve been up to this week is at Second Serving Sunday.

Color-coding key:

  • Goal attained (for the session, or the round) = blue with overstrike.

  • Goal in progress (for the session or the round) = green.

  • Goal-in-waiting (for the round) = red.

Writing:

Continue Kifo Island Chronicles Series:

  • Sea Changes: (KIC#3): Complete all planning and plotting; ready to go for JuNoWriMo. Next up: Complete Rock Your Plot Premise Testing Exercises; set plot/pinch points for all.

The IDIC Romance:

  • Draft 31 Story a Day May Trip and T’Pol stories. Use prompts.31/31 stories drafted, and over 100,000K new words since the beginning of May! So much fun, and they aren’t done with me yet… =) Next up, compiling the current stories with the existing IDIC Romance stories, in chronological order; notes and explorations for future story as inspired….

Editing:

  • Complete revisions for “Slow Jazz Awakening” using Rock Your Revisions;  and submit. Rereading scenes and notes, compiling revision planning notes; nothing new this session: 2/16 scenes complete. Organic adaptations to general to-do list for next revision pass. Next up: Continue rereading scenes and notes; create revision pass plan, and carrying this goal into June.

  • Move “Peach Liqueur Love” through Step 3 of Sarah Selecky’s  Deep Revision exercises. Nothing new this session. Next up: Exercise #2; carrying into June.

Blogging:

  • Complete all sponsor visits on time; visit 3 other blog hop and challenge participants each day, on average. Not so much on the visiting; I got a little swept away by the stories, this session.
  • Clean up/update blog sidebar. Nothing new. Next up: Play with some widgets! =D
  • Beginning May 1, a post for each day’s #StaD story. Post stories,snippets, story sparks; or related essays on progress or process. Mostly stories and snippets. Next up: A wrap-up post.

Hometending:

  • Continue with hometending. At least 5 days weekly; include decluttering and yard projects minimum of 3 days. 4/5 days; 5/3 yard/declutter. Mellow to moderate activity level here, more outdoor stuff. “Off” week. Next up: Continue this trend, paying attention to my own needs for activity and rest.

Lifetending:

  • Continue one-on-one time with all beloveds; online and in-person writerly socialization; time with friends; social media. Blogs and comments; a bit of Facebook; write-ins; hangout time with each of my beloveds. Much, much time with a growing-up girl. Next up: More.
  • Expand and extend in ways that feel natural and challenging without forcing. Try two new things each week. 2/2regular night walks/chats with my daughter; planting new flowerbed. Next up….something new. Like JuNoWriMo….

Selftending:

  • Continue physical activity and exercise – 3 times/week at minimum. 5/3: Home and yardtending; t’ai chi, walks, a little dancing. Next up: More moving; more tending; more exercise; more t’ai chi.
  • Attend t’ai chi weekly. One at-home practice move per week. This week’s move: Cloud Hands. Not much practice here, this session. Next up: Possibly attend Thursday class. Practice. Because practice makes better.
  • Meditate/Intentions journal twice weekly. 3 /2: Breathing meditation, t’ai chi with standing meditation; 3 /2: Intentions Journal exploration and writing. Next up: Keep on with these; increase frequency.

Click the icon to enter the blog hop and ROW away!

Here’s your portal!