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In the SCA, there’s this thing called “stardust.” It’s the fabric of the Dream that keeps the SCA alive, and it’s something I’ve been sorely lacking lately….until yesterday, that is.

It all started coming back to me when I finished the embroidery for my good friend’s Pelican mantle for her elevation. I’d go into details of what a Peerage is in the SCA and what an honor it is to be asked to do that embroidery, but suffice it to say that being given that honor was something that inspired me and pushed me to do the best I possibly could. Here’s the culmination of the better part of a week’s worth of work (minus day job time and sleeping):

Yes, that was all done by my own two hands. It was such a rewarding thing to do, and I was so happy to see my friend get elevated in the mantle that she trusted me to make beautiful for her.

That was a good start, but it didn’t quite refill my stardust all the way.

Yesterday, during morning Court, my husband and I were given our first Kingdom arts awards (in Arizona, a.k.a. the Kingdom of Atenveldt, the “Flower of the Desert” is the beginning-level arts award). The “scrolls”–which are burned into wood panels–are amazing, and it felt good to be recognized for the work that I do in the arts community in the SCA.

I also got a cool medallion.

But wait, there’s more!

As you can see, I’m in a bookstore in the above picture. I had a signing at a local bookstore for Independent Bookstore Day scheduled smack dab in the middle of the SCA event, so I ended up driving 45 minute to and fro to get to the bookstore and back.

When I returned, my husband handed me a small metal cup with a bunch of trinkets in it. Tchookies (pronounced CHOO-kees but probably not spelled the way I spelled it) are gifts that SCAdians give to artisans to show their appreciation of the artisan’s work. Most are little bits and baubles, like strung beads, cool stones (one was a nifty black arrowhead!), and small pieces of jewelry. I had put a hood that I made and embroidered for my husband in the arts showcase for the event, and several people left tchookies for me while I was gone. One tchookie in particular was not so small, and it blew me away.

Now, you may be thinking, “Wait, AJ, why is that ring–cool though it may be–the thing that filled your stardust to overflowing?” Well, I’ll tell you why: I was not the only person to wear that ring yesterday.

It’s the King’s ring. His personal ring, one that I’ve seen Him wear on many occasions.

I was blown away. I was shocked. I was a little verklempt. I took a picture and messaged the Queen, who was active on Facebook at the time, because seriously, there was no way the King had given me his actual own ring.

Except he had.

It was like the stresses and tribulations of the past several weeks were washed away with that one gift. Not to downplay the other tchookies–I’ll keep each and every one of them–but man.

Of course I showed off to everyone I thought might give a shit, plus a few extra. Some were happy for me, some were kind of annoyed by me (sorry, folks–I was just excited!), and even though I know I have shoved the ring in more than one too many faces, I still feel the need to share it here.

I feel so much better about…well, everything. It’s like the ring is a stardust-powered talisman or something. Bills? Angry patients? Deadlines? I can stand tall through it all.

Speaking of deadlines, I have at least two more projects to get finished before next weekend’s Coronation, where the current King and Queen will step down and the Prince and Princess will step up to rule for the next six months. Better get cracking! Who knows? Maybe one of those projects will help refuel someone else’s stardust.

I’m still here. Still hanging on.

Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. Life has been life, and the juggling act is a struggle.

I’m trying to get more active on Twitter. I’m trying to get my work done at the office. I’m trying to get my friend’s Pelican embroidered in the next seven days. I’m trying to keep my head above water, basically, and I’m not sure I’m being entirely successful.

I’ll get the embroidery done. I’m making great progress, actually. But there are still two other projects waiting for me to finish them, and one is due a week after the Pelican.

The social media is another story. I am having a hard time balancing all the things, and it’s starting to show. Take this blog, for example: I literally forgot I had it. Just too much else going on. And when I zero in on one media outlet, the others suffer. I’m not on Facebook as often… same with Instagram. It’s all some crazy numbers game, and I’m losing.

Then there’s Abnormal. I don’t ask my publisher what my numbers are like because, frankly, I’m afraid to know. I try, but I’m an idiot when it comes to marketing and promotion, and I’m sure it shows in my sales numbers. I don’t know how to generate interest in a book that’s been out for eight months. Getting people excited about a new release is easier. It doesn’t help that some of my fellow Askew authors are doing exceptionally well in their sales. One was on Amazon’s bestseller list in her genre for over a month and has now been picked up by Barnes and Noble. Another’s book just went on pre-order a day or two ago and he’s already apparently halfway to his pre-order sales goal. I didn’t even know I had a pre-order sales goal when Abnormal came out. I didn’t know anything, and I feel like I’m still very much in the dark on a lot of things.

I’m not sure if it’s the state of my sales (or lack thereof) or if it’s merely my innate mental state. I’ve been trying to get my new mood stabilizer from the pharmacy, but they say they need a prior authorization from my doctor, and it’s been nearly two weeks. I need to call his office, but when?? I’m always working. I guess I’ll have to try to call him before patients start checking in today… Otherwise, I’ll never get it done. The medicine helped so much when I was on the sample dose, and I want to feel better. I don’t want to be anxious all the time, or depressed, or all over the place mood-wise. I want to be stable and functional. That would be nice.

I’ll survive. It’s what I do. But I don’t want to just survive. I want to be active, I want to be successful, I want to thrive.

Maybe if I can get that medicine filled it will be a start.

Time is a funny thing. We only get so much of it, a mere drop in the ocean, but the quality of that time can be improved so much by the people you spend it with.

Six years ago today, I vowed to be with this man through all time and space, and I don’t regret a second of it.

Hopefully you can’t tell how excruciating those shoes were. Lol I’ll give them credit for making him stand up straight throughout the ceremony, though. (He has a tendency to slouch, but with an extra four inches of height on me he realized he needed to straighten that spine.)

The day was windy but otherwise beautiful. Gorgeous Arizona April skies all around.

See? A couple smudges on the camera lens, but all in all clear and crisp.

My dad was giving me a carefully-planned speech here.

My mind was on Cloud Nine, so I didn’t really hear it. Sorry, Dad. I was a little distracted.

He was bawling by the time I got to the altar. I had to hold back my tears for a while, because unlike him I was wearing makeup. Lol

Being the tech-savvy guy he is, he read his vows off of his phone. I almost lost it before it was my turn, because we had written our vows in secret, and his contained the words “for all time and space” as well.

I had a handmade card that I’d bought from Etsy to read off of. I think it said on the front “My love for you will last longer than Ned Stark.” I’m not sure, though, because the card got lost shortly after the wedding. It’s a shame I didn’t get a photo of it. It was cute. Like my husband, I referenced Doctor Who… and many of our friends assumed we had written our vows together. As one friend wrote in our guest book, “The vows prove, you were made for each other.”

Because of the wind, we had some, er, technical difficulties lighting the unity candle. The officiant saw an opportunity to use our fire failure as a metaphor for how much work a marriage takes.

We got it done, though.

This ^^ is my favorite photo out of the hundreds that were taken that day. This is the moment where I claimed what was mine.

The ceremony was non-denominational, semi-formal, and a touch geeky (quotes from Juno and Doctor Who were mixed in with touching words that flew in one ear and out the other).

I insisted on the cheeky photos of us signing our marriage certificate.

Both sets of parents were there, of course, but I think a part of me will always regret that I never got to meet my husband’s birth mother. I like to think she was there that day, watching her older son from the Great Beyond.

This is where we get back to time being a funny thing. Of the dozen people in our wedding party, only my brother, my sister, my boss, my BFF (who flew in from Alabama for the wedding), and our nephews are still in our lives. No, nobody died (that I know of), but time happened and we grew apart. It’s sad, but I’m glad these people helped us make the most important day of our lives that much better. I know one thing, though: no matter how the people in our lives come and go, I can always count on one person in particular to always be there … through all time and space. 😉

Now it’s been six years. Six years of changing apartments, medical diagnoses, new-to-us cars, a new life in the SCA, and our brand new house.

I don’t know what the next six years–or sixty, even–will bring, but I’m excited to find out.

This year we’re commemorating our anniversary by getting our names tattooed in Gallifreyan–the language of the Time Lords. It was my husband’s idea, and I’m pretty excited for it. The only problem is, I’m running out of room! The tattoo artist wants a flat surface to work on, and most of my available tattoo real estate is on the rounded parts of me. Lol I’ll find a good spot, though. I always do.

Here’s to six years of marriage, my love, and to many, many more.

It’s that time of the week again.

Laundry day.

I fucking hate laundry day.

First you have to sort all the crap that has been worn or used during the week. Then you have to lug each load from the bedroom to the garage. Stuff the stuff into the machine. Put in the detergent and fabric softener. Then you take it out once the cycle is done, put it in the dryer, and then it’s quite literally lather, rinse, repeat.

Then you have to put all that crap away. Folding, hanging, stuffing in drawers… Feels like it takes forever.

Then a week or so goes by, and you have to do it all over again. It’s not my favorite part of home ownership, as you may be able to tell.

One of these days I’ll get a head start on it. I’ll get to where I don’t dread it. I don’t see that happening any time soon though. I’ll probably hate it just as much a few months/years from now. Blah.

It’s been a rough week at work, but yesterday gave me the misfortune of having enough time to myself to think. I started thinking about my weight, about my lack of motivation for exercise or fencing or, well, anything. I have to force myself to do the things I used to like to do.

Last night, between acid reflux and Rory, I got very little sleep. When you have insomnia, as many of you may know, you tend to think. A lot. And what came to my mind last night/early this morning? I’m fat.

Yeah, yeah, try to make me feel better. “You’re not fat.” “It’s okay, you’re tall.” “Oh, stop being hard on yourself.” I am fat. Morbidly obese, from a clinical standpoint. I am 5’10” tall, yes, but I carry nearly 300 lbs on that 5’10”, and it’s not getting any better. My psychiatrist says I need to not worry as much about exercise and focus more on going on a diet (which always makes me more depressed). My primary care provider says that with the meds my psychiatrist has me on there’s pretty much zero chance of losing any weight. My brain? My brain says mean, terrible things.

I’ve mentioned before that I should be going to exercise with my friends, but they work out at a gym now–a large, popular gym. There will be people there. People I don’t know. Strangers. Watching the fat woman work out. I have trouble breathing just thinking about it. My anxiety just skyrockets, and last night made it even worse.

You see, today’s an SCA event for a local college branch. There’s going to be a rapier tournament, and my friend and fencing teacher wants me to participate. But I can’t stop thinking that I’m too fat to fence. I’m fucking huge–how am I supposed to be graceful and quick on my feet? I can barely get in and out of a car. Hell, my husband and I went to a restaurant last night, and the booth seats were so close to the table that there was no point in putting the napkin on my considerable lap; my belly butted right up against the table. Nothing was going to land in that lap of mine.

Too fat to fence. Too fat to fence. Too fat to fence. That’s been my uncontrollable mantra all night. I don’t think my chain shirt will fit at the moment. Gained too much weight since I got it. Besides, I’m out of practice. Why? Because I don’t feel like going to practice because I’m so damn fat and clunky.

Whoa. Dozed off mid-thought, had a weird dream. Still feel fat and gross, but I’ve taken my pills now. Hopefully I won’t fall asleep again before we leave, and hopefully I’ll feel better mentally once the pills kick in.

It’s cold in the house. And quiet. Too quiet. I’m still thinking about how fat I am, how I’m not good enough, how I’m out of practice and out of shape.

Thinking–it’ll be the end of me one of these days.

I finally hit a minor Twitter milestone today: over 2k followers. It’s not huge, but it’s a start. Most of my followers are writers and authors, but it’s good to network. That, and I have a wealth of creativity to harvest when it comes to a little naming issue.

There’s a character in Book 3 whose name I’m not satisfied with. Usually I pick a name and that’s that, but with his name it’s like eh, not feeling it. So I’m asking my 2k+ followers to help me pick a name. Their clues to the character’s identity? “Disabled evil telepathic superbaby.” Oh, and I mentioned that it’s a male. I’m interested to see what they come up with–if anyone responds. It’s only been maybe a half hour since I posted the request for names, but I’m impatient. I wanna see that perfect name come across the screen.

Edit: I wrote this early in the morning, and forgot to finish the post. I’ve since asked both Facebook and Instagram for name ideas as well and have found what I think is the perfect name. It’s simple yet meaningful, and it adds a little something to the story that I hadn’t considered. What’s the name?

Guess you’ll have to wait for Book 3’s release to find out 😉

So I’ve gone two days now with the new med from my psychiatrist on board (which sounds like an alien species–Vraylar), and either I have had a relaxing, less-than-stressful couple of days or it works fast. I find myself not overly concerned with things that lately have been sending my stress levels skyrocketing. Long day at work? Okay. Surgeries running behind? Fine. Everything’s fine.

I wonder, though, if that’s necessarily a good thing. Yeah, I am feeling much less stressed, but will I end up like this:

I mean, I don’t want to be chilling when the building’s on fire, but I don’t want to be screaming when it’s not. Overall, though, the numbness is kind of refreshing. It’s like okay, I’m not in overdrive, I’m not burning the high-octane fuel, I’m surviving and even feeling a bit better. Okay, so I did have a blank stare several times yesterday that concerned a nurse friend of mine. Kinda was zoning a bit. But I was not overly stressed, and that was my key motivation for going to the doctor the other day, so there’s that.

It’s all about balance. I’ll be fine. Just have to adjust to the new med and keep on trucking.

It’s a little after 0500 here in Arizona, and all I can think of to write here is a slew of complaints about my stressful job and my equally stressful life. But nobody wants to hear about that…or at least, I assume nobody wants to hear that.

What to talk about then? Well, I am patiently awaiting the first round of edits on Escape the Light. I’m eager to see how it turns out, especially since I tried to be aware of my writing weaknesses when I was drafting and revising it, so my hope is there’s less work for my editors this book. Be wary of adverbs. Don’t use gerunds. Watch the telling and staging. I don’t know how well I did on the last bit, but at least on the adverbs and gerunds I tried my damnedest to limit or eliminate them. Gotta learn from the first time.

I want to say that I’ve made progress on my assignment to book podcasts, but I’m still exhausted from Estrella War and haven’t had the energy to go searching for new ones to contact. Just now my eyes are crossing from being so sleepy, and I have to force them to both focus on the same target in the same direction.

I’m getting back into the embroidery commission after getting stalled at Estrella with all the rain and damp and ick. I didn’t want the fabric to get ruined, so the projects basically stayed in their little Ziplock baggies the whole time. It sucks that I’ve had to push it back again, but what can I do? Better to turn in a quality product than to rush or ruin it. Also halted by the rains was my embroidery class that I planned on teaching at Estrella. It turned out there were people actually interested in it, so I agreed to teach it at an upcoming event in another Barony.

My dad’s birthday is Friday, and I have zero ideas on what to give him. Not even Mom has any ideas. He’s been mum about what he wants/needs. Maybe a finger splint after the dog bite? I have no idea. What do you get for a retiree who returned to the work force who has all the hiking/camping gear he needs, all the work equipment he needs, and all the yard work stuff he needs?

My aches and pains from Estrella’s grueling weather are almost gone. I guess that’s one less thing to bitch about. I still ache, but it’s more on a tolerable level. Basically, I’m back to baseline (for me) in that it’s roughly equivalent to my normal rheumatoid aches and pains. There’s still that one pesky muscle in my back that’s bugging me, but it’s trivial at this point.

Speaking of the War, the Laurel friend I’ve been talking to the past year has agreed to take me on as her apprentice here soon, so that’s another embroidery thing to do…I have to have a green belt (as is the SCA standard for apprentices), which my husband is going to weave for me, but the ends have to be embroidered with her device. It should be quick and simple to do, but it’s the doing that needs to be done.

Aaaand I sat on the heating pad button and didn’t realize it until my back suddenly got really hot. I better coffee up if I’m going to function at work today!

So in addition to snow in Arizona, it also rains. A lot. Especially at inconvenient times.

Take yesterday, for instance. It rained yesterday. And it rained. And it rained some more. It rained until our tent was flooded on the inside and outside was a muddy, sloggy, sludgy, mucky mess. The “roads” are inches deep in water, with an inch or two (minimum) of soggy mud beneath. You sink in so deep that, if you’re not careful, you could lose a boot in the mud.

We have cots. Most of our clean garb is dry. And we’re warm enough at night when the heater is running… though at this rate, we’ll run out of propane before War ends.

Some lessons have been learned. Next time, we need to bring our stuff in plastic tubs rather than bags. Next time, I need to belt my floor-length coat in such a way that it doesn’t drag through the mud. Same for my dresses. I need to bring more socks, and warmer ones. Possibly bring another propane tank in case we get too cold and use the heater more.

There are more lessons, but my brain is too frozen and damp to think about what they are. I just dropped the bottle of acetaminophen in a puddle, and my arthritis is making my knees ache.

The sun has made occasional appearances since I started writing this, so that’s promising. Hopefully it warms up enough that we’re not driving three hours home in a mud-filled car full of damp clothing, rugs, blankets, and tent. We will most likely have to dry everything out once we get home.

Where it has been snowing, I hear….

I’ve not had nearly enough sleep today, and that means that four lucky SCAdians will receive a free copy of Abnormal!

What’s that? Free book? Sounds too good to be true, right? Well, there are catches, of course. Rules and what have you.

1.) Go to my Facebook author page and “Like” the page:
https://bit.ly/2AyIQ5L

2.) Read the pinned post.

3.) Follow the instructions!

It’s that simple, and that hard 😉 C’mon, I can’t just give the books away….I have to make you work for it!

There you have it! I’ll be at Estrella from tomorrow (Wednesday, February 20th) through Sunday, but the game’s over after the last winner on Saturday!