Happy October my pulsing platelets,

    Do you want to know what success is or shall I tease you with more blathering? Okay, okay! In the four months since I've created this website I have received over 5,000 hits, and I didn't even have to post any pictures of myself on line to do it: let alone take anything off or compromise my veil of modesty. Nice huh? 
    Thank you all sooo much for visiting with me! To my mind, writing and knowing that others have enjoyed my work IS success; be it in blogs, short stories, or the few who have read my currently unpublished vampire novels. (If you missed my other blogs, I'm working my way toward publication, but with a strategy for efficiency and expedition.)
    To those faithful vampires in my "inner Kiss", I sincerely apologize for missing my September blog. So let me donate the remedy and tell you why. I have been a most industrious writer! I have acquired four major fangs, powers, head stones, in furthering my success.
    
 Fang one: I joined a wonderful writer's group here in Podunk, Virginia. The fabulous thing about having relative strangers critique your work is that they are honest, brutally! I am unsure why, but throughout my life about 97% of people with whom I have and/or do interact with always seem afraid of hurting my feelings. It's okay with me that everyone wants to be nice to me, until I want honesty!!! If you met me you would get that same look on your face that everyone who meets me for the first time gets. It is an odd look of awe or intrigue, like...look at the cute, fluffy Panda slowly gnawing at the pretty bamboo. Oh, let me pet the softy fur. And then when the animal, which I assure you is more bear than Teddy, bites your arm off and rips out your heart with three inch long, razor sharp incisors, you are shocked! Why? That is what we do! 
    Change the tides, the color of the sky, the rising of the sun, and then come and talk to me about why we are all the way we are. After a brief and very unsavory honeymoon, I have become very fond of my Podunk writer's group and grown elated with critiques of my work!!! Even the unfavorable ones, honest.
    Fang two: I completed a wonderful short story called The Serial Killer's Off Time. It provides the reader a rare opportunity to experience a day in the mind of a successful psychopath. He's kind of a regular guy, on the exterior, but that is the game for sociopaths. Isn't it? He tempts fate as usual during a strange day, even for him, where his timing is slightly off. 
    Fang three: I polished the short fiction story, as much as I could, given that I am no editor; and then presented it to the writing group over three readings (we get an allotment of time each meeting). The group is diverse in background and very well educated, well read and well written. I love hearing other people's work. Hearing the author read their own writing is a very special experience. 
    The first time I attended the writer's group I brought an old vampire poem to read for all to enjoy. I wrote it during a time when I thought I was a fantastic writer because I was drinking Tullamore Dew, Irish Whiskey, and Pepsi to gain incentive. Hey, don't laugh, it worked for Hemingway and I was living in Florida at the time. Just as a side bar, and so you will not worry, for years I did my best to be a "drinker". It looked like so much fun. Fortunately or not, and I am in no position to judge, but I found I have no tolerance for the stuff. I only managed to get a nastier hangover than everyone else who drank twice, or more, than me. Now, I drink about 6 times a year and make it the good stuff, because more than one portion and a hangover is a sure thing. My Irish ancestors, well half of them anyway, are doing bed-spins in their graves. I'll just have to be proud of the genetic predisposition for a fiery temper. Anyway, I read the poor members of my writer's group all five pages of my bad poetry. And they hated it! 
    I went home and actually cried. I am pretty tough and only cry maybe once a year. I am lucky to have never been one of those pathetic, emotionally driven human beings. Actually, unwarranted drama kills my Chi, weakens my Chakra, and curdles my blood to the consistency of roofing tar. Use your own analogy, but I strive for harmony and achievement. Both the journey and the success make Anne a happy girl. 
    So, why did I cry after my first writer's group? I am a little shy when meeting people for the first time, so I felt like the a cat facing baptism during the whole hour anyway. Then we all go out to eat, which I have come to greatly enjoy, but did not expect after my first meeting. I would have preferred to read-and-run that first time.
    I  love talking to people about them and am happily willing to talk about myself endlessly...obviously. Every single one of us really does have our own story. But having to meet people initially and then discuss the usual platitudes is hard for me. I blurt because I am nervous and it comes off being brash and insensitive. I don't mean it, but I'm a Panda. 
    When I meet someone for the first time it usually seems to go something like this: Married? Yes. Kids? No. How come? A life preference, and then cancer and it was too late. Then, I get the awe and intrigue look again, Panda-Panda-Panda. People invariably apologize, even though I'm pretty sure they didn't cause the cancer, and then they change the subject to the weather or isn't this iced tea really good. My awkwardness, my shyness, and the general consensus of the group not liking my epic (read marathon) vampire poem was a little overwhelming for a first meeting, even for super Anne. 
    Well, my goodness Pauline how did you ever survive the peril of it all? Well, two of the women in the group cringed when I said I was aching to write a story about a serial killer. So because they didn't care for my crappy poem, whose corrections I now totally agree with and am revising per said suggestions, I went home and wrote my 5,500 word creepy serial killer short fiction just to wig them all out! So naturally they freaking loved it! Grasshoppah has learned her lesson. Write what you must, what you love, what is fun for you, and then let lots of other people read it. Listen to everyone's opinion and appreciate any interest in you and your work!
    Fang four: I entered the serial killer fiction in a writing contest. I purchased a literary aid called The Writer's Market. It was $50.00 at the book store. It was the first book since college, like a billion years ago, in which I dropped that kinda dough!!! After rechecking my sanity, my priorities and my bank card, I read through the book in earnest. It was well worth the money, and no...I'm not getting a kickback for mentioning it, nor am I doing the publisher(s) on the side. That was another joke?! Hey, ya win some and crash and burn on others, but count on me to try to be humorous. Oh, the contest, yes. I entered the Zoetrope:All Story Short Fiction Contest for a mere $15.00 fee. It's a neat idea for a publication, sponsored and actually published by Francis Ford Coppola. Cash prizes for first through third places and then seven sort of honorable mention stories also receive a possible option for literary representation by some really fancy agencies. I agree with the judges regarding the stories they selected as winners from last year's contest. The winning story from last year I found oddly written. I never claimed to be an authority on writing construction. That aside, the story wrought so much emotion out of me in the reading that it made me want to cry; in the best way ever!!! It's a good thing I've already had my cry for the year or I would have had to actually purchase a box of tissues! Any-so-matter, it's a kinda a win-win for writer's who enter because it is exposure. I find out on line on Dec. 1 if anyone was interested. If not, I have the most nefarious plans for my pre-e-ecious-s-s little story.

    What else have I been up to? Oh, by the way if you are new to my blog, let me warn you now...I'm a Kamikaze blogger. "What," you say with your sharp tonal and remnant sarcastic internal monologue. I am not a habitual blogger. I'm a hit-and-run, a binge-blogger, a Kamikaze.     
    I visited one of my fav authors' blog sites. Sheesh!!! She is habitual blog-a-holic, no doubt a child of addiction, a run-away-blogger. She blogs every day, EVERY DAY! I don't want to share with the world what kinda tooth paste I use, if ya get my meaning. 
    My blog is for your entertainment first. Next, I honestly wish to help others by sharing my brutal journey toward publication as a benchmark for their success, and then later letting everyone roll around in the odoriferous deposits of happiness with me. My tertiary (I love that word, tertiary) motivation for my blog is my own catharsis. It's good practice writing, but you may not ever get to learn the name of my personal brand of tooth paste, thank you very much!!! The author, to whom I refer, is an acceptional writer. I envy the level of trust in her highly detailed daily blogs, but I question her discretion. Maybe she should write about a serial killer. In the research of the story she may learn to be more the voyeur rather than exhibitionist! Maybe not.
    I promise I will...I shall make every effort to...I think I will be able to Kamikaze blog again this month to make up for my lack of discipline in September. Commitment issues much? No, but my horoscope says that I have to be careful not to make promises that I am unable to fulfill. That much of it is true. No, I am not some astrological enthusiast nut ball. My theory is, who am I to argue with 4,000+ years of Asian wisdom. That, and I have the cool ascendant of being a dragon. Maybe I wouldn't be so quick to quote eastern astrology if I were a sheep or a boar. But being the dragon that I am, they both sound like BBQ lunch to me. Sorry...every one is unique and special, and if we were all alike the world would be a very boring place. My Mom would be so proud!

Thank you for your time. Please respond. I have even approved some of the blog responses from you all for you viewing pleasure. What-a-gal! Sincerely, thank very much for tuning in. Talk at ya soon and WBCT(Warmest Blood Curdling Thanks), Anne