Introducing Aristotle


I’m a Mac girl at heart. I always have been. After my Sweet Baby Mac gave up on me a couple of years ago, I bought a little ASUS that works fine, but it’s really tiny and I just never loved it. Not as a laptop. It’s currently sitting on my desk at home, plugged into a monitor, and I use a full-size wireless keyboard to work on it. So it’s not even a laptop anymore. It’s a desktop. Continue reading

the dry well


I can’t really pinpoint the moment my inspiration well dried up and left me living with a blinking cursor and a blank screen.

But it happened. Somehow, this thing I loved doing, just stopped being a thing I loved doing.

I don’t know why. I don’t know how. But I went from being excited about writing everyday, to avoiding it like it was exercise.

The worst part of not writing was that I’d also stopped daydreaming.

It was like losing a friend. But no matter how much I wanted to repair that friendship, it was too arduous a task. It was overwhelming. It was hard fucking work. And even though I missed it, I didn’t really miss it enough to work at it.

There was a time that writing didn’t feel like work; it felt like an escape–a mini-vacation. At one point, I had convinced myself that I had nothing to escape anymore…the bad marriage had ended. I didn’t need my daydreams to get me through life. But that wasn’t really true. When I first started writing, I was happily married. I wasn’t escaping anything. I had always been a daydreamer, I started writing to give my dreams a plot. To expand their worlds. And to give me a creative outlet. I loved creating.

And then, just like that, the feeling was gone. The love was gone. The daydreams were gone.



My last book was published in 2010. That’s six years ago, y’all. That’s a long damn time in the world of writing. I had tried over the years to ignite a spark. I’d have a story idea, a niggle of a character, and I’d sit down and hammer out a couple of pages. And then I’d never look back. The niggles never grew into nudges. The ideas never seemed to stick with me. And I never went back to them.

Recently, I had the opportunity to ghost write a series. It was one of the most challenging things I’ve done because mentally, I wasn’t ready. I began to hate it. But not because I didn’t like the story or what I was working on. I hated it because it wasn’t mine. Because I had no control over the story.

Suddenly, after 3 months of writing something for someone else, I felt the desire to CREATE again.

A tiny drop of inspiration fell into my well and the echo it created was magnificent.

An idea formed. One that I couldn’t stop thinking about. And now, after 6 years…I am working on another book–with ideas pouring in for follow up books.

This feeling, is an addiction and I never want to kick this habit again.



zzzzzzzzz *snore* zzzzzzz *drool*

sleepy1-300x193I cannot seem to wake up this week. I don’t get it! I’m sleeping well at night. I even refused to take Benadryl last night (which is like taking Ambien for me) so that I wouldn’t have the drugged haze this morning.

And still…here I am, on my 4th cup of coffee…fighting the Sandman to the death.

The Sandman is a wily booger, btw. And he fights dirty. I think the only reason I can’t keep my eyes open is because he somehow managed to slip in weighted ball-bearings into my eyelids. They just keep closing on their own.

Did someone switch the coffee to decaf??? Does someone need to die?

In writing related news…

*record scratch*

Que dramatics.


Did Mel just say “In writing related news? As in WRITING-writing? As in BOOKS?”

Yes, Mel did just say writing news…but don’t get too excited yet…

I am revamping my very first completed manuscript. Updating it (since it was written in 2003…and has references to “flip” phones and “surveillance TAPES”) and I’m cutting it down a bit and tightening up the writing. (I have grown as a writer since this book. THANKFULLY.) and then…once I think it’s ready, I’ll probably self-pub it for y’all to enjoy.

And you will enjoy it, if I do my job correctly.

So there’s your breaking news, bitches. I’m writing again. Getting back in the saddle. Officially. And I’m ready to rock out with my cock out.

Peace, love, and happy Wednesday! Everyone find a leg and get to humpin’!

#RWA13 I miss y’all!

Here are some pics of the Ghosts of RWA Conferences Past. Me and Maria Geraci in order: Dallas 04, Atlanta 06, Dallas 07

Mel_Maria Dallas

Mel_Maria.ATL 06


Then here’s a pic of us in Orlando: 09 (this is actually the RT convention.)

RT09RWA was in DC in 09 and I was there, too. Here’s a link to the most awesome night ever…. Drag Queen Karaoke

I can’t find a picture of me and Maria together in DC. I know there is one…but, this will have to do as a substitute:

DC 09I miss my people! I vow to attend next year, no matter what. (she says, hoping that her empty wallet and dry writing well will fill up soon…)

In Compound Bootcamp Bootyville news, I rested last night. Will be doing major lower body damage to myself this evening. It will be painful and tomorrow I will be using a walker. With hot pink tennis balls for feet.

To all my friends in Atlanta, I miss you. I’m thinking about you. And if you do Drag Queen Karaoke night…PLEASE SEND ME ALL THE PICTURES! Also, good luck to you, my dear friend Maria! Bring home that RITA and make momma proud!

will lightning strike twice?

Yesterday I had a writing breakthrough. It was really weird because I’ve tried to make myself write this story that’s been haunting me for more than a year, but the reality is, I haven’t been able to do it. I have barely written anything in almost 2 years (maybe more). I actually thought maybe I was done. Maybe I had accomplished what I was supposed to with BITE ME and LOVE SUCKS, and it was time to focus my creative energy elsewhere.

And then yesterday happened.

Is my writing drought over? I have no idea. But for the first time in a LONG DAMN TIME I am excited about a story…and I am excited about writing.

I’m so glad I haven’t lost that part of my life, after all.

weekend roundup

I’m not gonna lie to you folks, there was a lot of napping going on this weekend.

Also, I did some sitting outside, with my notebook and computer to work out some plot issues on my current WIP. Yeah, the work-in-progress that was showing no progress because I wasn’t working on it? That’s the one.

Well, I decided to work on it some. I love to write, I love to create, but sometimes it’s like exercising for me. If I don’t do it almost everyday, I start to dread it…I start to feel like I’m not good at it anymore, I totally psych myself out.

The good news is, I had LOTS of plotting help from the girls.

Like the old school pen and ink to paper plotting method I was using? That’s how I roll, baby.  Ruby and Trinity didn’t approve of my Luddite method, but they stuck around to assist me anyway.

Now I just have to keep it up on a daily basis. Y’all don’t let me get distracted by the sparkly things, the squirrels or the internetz…okay?

roses are red…

In fun news, my recap of last night’s douchetastic Bachelorette has been posted at Hey Don’t Judge Me. Go forth and enjoy the douchebaggery in all its glory.

In writing news (and you can just skip this if you’re not in the mood for some la la land confessional woo woo stuff), I’ve really been trying to find my way back to feeling creative with words. I’m journaling again, which feels a little weird to me. I haven’t done that in years, and in the past, the only reason I would write in my journal would be to sort out sad feelings. So when I started associating the journaling to sadness I stopped.

Anyway, I say all that because I am trying something new with this journal. I’m just using the notebook to jot down thoughts, random ideas, pictures…or just words. Sure I’m talking to myself, but it’s kinda weird…like word vomit.

The funniest thing happened to me though. I wrote a poem yesterday. I can’t remember the last time I wrote an actual poem. (I’m not talking about Limericks…haha) It’s not a very good one, but it was heartfelt and honest.

And then…to make sure that I was completely out of my comfort zone (as if journaling and writing poetry isn’t enough to make me feel uneasy) I actually gave the poem to the person I wrote it for…which means, I totally risked my vulnerability to rejection and humiliation. And as scary as it was, it was actually very empowering.

I risked rejection again. I don’t deal well with rejection of my feelings or my words–I’m awesome, why would anyone reject me, right? This has been a bit of a revelation for me, and I’ll just stop right there because this is not a couch and y’all aren’t my therapist. 🙂 I just wanted y’all to know, I’m working on it and I am going to write this book because I need to fill my creative well again.

And I need to enjoy writing fiction again.

*ding* I’m sorry, our time is up. See you next time…