gipsys musings

musings on writing and pop culture

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The Special Man

Many folks have already posted their memories, mourning for David Bowie. I’ve purposefully kept my distance from most, focusing on work instead. It seemed far too hard for me to acknowledge that he’s gone – a man who gave me a template for living by not fitting into any template at all, and yet fitting into every one perfectly. Under the weight of your wings You are a god and whatever I

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Checking In

So many things going on lately – I just realized that I hadn’t posted any updates for #write365. I’ve been going back through and revising piecemeal on the Romantic Suspense, but it’s been quite minimal. Still better than the alternative, right? Work has been… well, work. I did start a Google Drive to throw the random prompts that I come across into… while I’ve got my long-form Nanowrimo idea doc

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The Parting Glass

I lost a friend today. CindieLee Hendon, who saw me through some of my extreme lows and highs as I left teen years and headed into adulthood, died today. I’m still trying to wrap my head around that. So close to the first anniversary of my mother’s death, I just don’t think a part of me will allow for me to start processing this just yet. Instead, it swirls memories

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Two Fourteen p.m.

I may not always remember all of the details of today. Most days, I hope that I don’t. At 2:14pm ET on February 6, 2013, my mother died. I’ve been sitting, staring at that last sentence for over an hour. What else is there to say? A year ago my mother died. The rational part of my brain knows that this is just part of the cycle, but that doesn’t

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Three Months

When the new year came around, I was trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up and promising to write here every week this year. Then I lost my job. Then I lost my mother. It’s been three months today since myself, my stepfather, my grandmother and all of her siblings gathered around her hospital bed as she breathed her last. Three months since I

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Sing Out, Rose!

While some might think it’s a little weird to get a hotel room for a local con, I’ve found that it’s a necessity, especially when it’s a con for something like filk. Which is why you’ll find me near the airport this weekend for GAFilk, singing and hanging out on the smoking patio.

Taking Back the Blog (and possibly my life)

I’ve said this before, and I’ll probably say it again, but sometimes it comes down to starting back up something once forgotten. Like this blog. I have been occasionally posting flash fictions here, in hopes that by posting them I’d actually start using this blog again. So far, not really. But as I was working on a quick print advertisement for the Filk Track (where I’m not only the resident

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