Joining Friends on the Other Side

            Unlike a lot of people, I actually like Friday the 13^th. Maybe it’s just because I’ve always been one of those kids who preferred to go against the grain. I’m not particularly superstitious either. Mostly, I just like to think of this day as something where odd magic takes place. Not bad, just weird.

            In my area of the Carolinas, it started out as a gloomy day, which just seems absolutely perfect for making an entire pot of coffee, mixing it with Bailey’s coffee creamer cup by cup, and sitting at my desk, writing the day away. My desk is situated against the window that faces the backyard which, since we live in town, faces someone else’s backyard. But it’s a quiet neighborhood, lots of space and grass between us and them. It invites a writer to just sit and gaze out the window.

            I originally intended to post this on Friday the 13^th, not in the wee hours of June 14^th, but life got in the way of writing. When I got off work Bear and I grabbed a pizza and hit Wal-Mart to pick up some essentials for the house, which I assembled for once! Watching Smackdown and then finishing off the second season of Orange is the New Black (I made it last a week, I’m quite proud of myself), the evening got away from me. But it’s okay. There’ll always be writing to be done and time to do it.

            I’ve decided to make today the last day that I post to Blogger. Officially switching over to WordPress for the Kelswitch, with the first post coming Monday. Remember, that’s www.carolinakel.wordpress.com. Basically, the same url I always have, with a different website listed behind my name. See? This is why I use Carolina Kel across platforms. Makes it easy to find me, especially since it’s a name I’ve been using a long time.

            I sincerely hope you follow me as I expand and move forward on this writing and blogging journey. Thanks for the memories, blogspot.

K is for Kaia

            I decided to do this as a peace offering for the ones who read Shadows Rising and are waiting patiently for the rest. Sort of character profile, sort of sneak peek. But with me, storyline and plot are always subject to change. However, I don’t think what I give you today will.

            K is for Kaia. She’s a character you won’t meet for a while yet, but I’ve been writing her since 9^th grade. I turn 23 on Monday, you do the math. She was basically the most badass character I could think to write. She still is, in some ways.

            Without further ado, I give you Kaia.

            For thousands of years, the races have torn each other apart for scraps, when they were all given their fair share in the beginning. In the beginning, they were all equal.

            The gods were furious in a way they hadn’t been since before the races were created and put in their own worlds. They were tired of their children shedding each others’ blood, for more than their fair share. And dragons on Earth were the final straw.        Dragons did not belong on Earth. They belonged in Genesis, same as the demons and vampires. That realm was designed to suit the predators. But of course it wasn’t good enough. When is it ever?

            Black wings shuffled and an ancient mind stirred for the first time since the God Wars, thousands of years before the birth of the first human. For long moments, she lay still, wondering why she was awake. Then she felt it. The perfect storm of God Fury building and building. Fury like that did only one thing.

            It destroyed worlds.

            She sent out a signal, her mind snapping out like a whip against the minds of her sleeping sisters. When they responded with the barest of stirs, she knew it wouldn’t be long. Pushing limbs that were still limber and ready to move after centuries upon centuries of dormancy, she rose up from her resting place and stepped outside. Frigid air enveloped her and distant suns twinkled a greeting. The cosmos hadn’t changed much since she went into her resting place.

            Her wings stretched out, ice forming around the edges only to be snapped off by the heat of her own power.

            Born of fury, desperation, and desire, she and her sisters had stopped the gods from destroying the universe once before. They had known the day might come again when they were called upon.

            What this winged creature of ancient legend wanted to know now was one thing and one thing only.

            Were the races birthed by the gods even worth saving?

Kaia. I do not own this picture. It's purely an inspiration.

C is for Crochet

I've always admired people who are crafty. They make things. The Frog Queen is one of them. She picked up knitting our senior year of high school and she is really good at it. She also bakes and does other crafty things that tell you she's the one you want to pawn your kids off on for the afternoon, she'll think of some way to keep them occupied, and they'll come home with a cute new craft.
I think of myself as a creative person, because of my writing and how I can manage to rearrange my bookshelves to make more stuff fit. That so counts! But I don't produce anything that people would look at and say "That is so cool, can you make me one?" So, when my mother decided to pick up a crochet hook again back in January, I picked one up too, uncertain of whether or not I'd actually learn how to use it.
In the months since, I've made a cover for my journal with green and purple yarn. I am working on a huge blanket to go over my bed that if I'm lucky, I might have finished by next winter. In the process of making these things, I realized that crocheting is a lot like writing, for me anyway. It's a little at a time, and though you aren't quite sure what the finished product will look like, the progress you've made so far makes you beam just to look at it, even if other people roll their eyes just a bit.

My blanket, about a month into working on it.

My blanket in progress is fondly being called a mutt blanket. It's leftovers from my mom's projects and a couple of full skeins that I picked out myself. It's a mish-mash of color and I adore it! Since I started my new job, my time to sit and crochet has diminished drastically and it has surprised me how much I sit at work and think about how I'd like to be crocheting right then. I come home at night and my free time is a toss up between crocheting, reading, or writing. It's nice to have those kind of choices and it makes me want to go on a severe social media diet, just so I can have more time for these things.

The most recent picture I have of it, but it's gotten bigger since this one was taken.

Kelswitch on a Mission

            The Kelswitch has not always existed as such. It began about three years ago, in the month of April, when I got a wild idea to blog about being Pagan in the south. At the time, I wasn’t blogging regularly but I also had two other blogs going too. One was for music, another for life and random things.

            Obviously, all three ideas got the boot. But the blog you are currently reading is the platform the Pagan one existed on, I just deleted all the old content prior to December of 2011. In 2012 I began blogging regularly, once a week. From there, with a little tweaking and adjusting here and there, it eventually became the Kelswitch we know today.

            My following may not have grown that much, but I’d like to believe as a blogger, I’ve grown tremendously since that first post, three years ago. I actually use tags in my posts, I share to social media, participate in #MondayBlogs on Twitter. But there is no overall theme to draw people seeking answers or comrades to the Kelswitch. I’m just a southern scribbler, wordsmith, writer, reader, music addict writing about whatever comes to mind that demands to flow from my fingertips onto the keyboard. Sometimes it’s a rant, sometimes an observation, and sometimes it’s just commentary on my own life as things happen to me.

            Blogging happened to me as a lot of other things were changing in my life. When I first started, I had just embraced a new major and a determination to follow my lifelong dream of writing. The Kelswitch has followed me through ups and downs, triumphs and utter failures. It will follow me into the future as I seek to add on to what Shadows Rising started. It will follow me as I move forward as a “young professional” and freelance writer. I just hope that nothing I have written or will write will ever get me in trouble, because I write without malice, or I try to.

            I’ve had to stop myself from getting too personal here, when it can feel like my own personal soap box. When people in my life drove me up the wall and made me want to curse and scream, I had to restrain myself and write out my anger in other ways, that wouldn’t end up on here for the public to consume. It’s a fine line that I walk every day, being a writer with access to such a public forum, being Pagan in a mostly Christian world, and being human in a world that sometimes seeks to tear apart everything I am. But I like it. I wouldn’t still be here if I didn’t.

            So, it is with excitement and no small amount of anxiety that I take on the A-Z Blogging Challenge. For the first time ever, the Kelswitch shall be updated every single day for the entire month of April, following the theme of letters of the alphabet. If you follow my blog, read Shadows Rising, or support my other writing forums, I want to express my sincere thanks.

            And now, I invite you to follow this every day challenge for the Kelswitch. See you tomorrow, folks.

Write on Demand

            When I was in seventh grade, I had a teacher from Africa. She was from Kenya, if memory serves. I am not sure if it was because she was stricter than our other teachers, but not many people liked her. One girl in particular loved to butt heads with her, and I can remember one time when it involved me.

            My composition notebook habit began in middle school. I’d carry it around in my purse, from class to class, writing when I could or when I was bored. Sometimes, I’d try to write when I was supposed to be listening, or taking notes. This teacher from Kenya caught me and the girl who loved to butt heads with her defended me, arguing that maybe that was what I wanted to do with my life. Looking back on it now, I can’t help but roll my eyes at the whole thing.

            What made me think of this episode was lying in the floor of my bedroom, just now, trying to write and thinking that I hate everything I’m working on right now. I think that’s normal, but it drives me crazy. When I was the nerdy girl carrying a book and notebook in her purse at all times, I wrote when I could, as often as I could. There was no question, no hesitation. I could think past whether or not I hated what I was working on, I just wrote because I wanted to.

            Some people avoid making what they love a career because there’s always the danger that one day, it will become a chore. I don’t want writing to become a chore, but I’ve set a deadline for myself in April and it is ever looming in my mind and making the fact that I hate what I’m writing stare me down. Plus, there’s the argument that if you don’t like it, what’s to say your audience will?

            Where that leaves me on March 3^rd with an order of 50,000 words to do in the next month, I am not sure. I think I’ll figure something out because the fact of the matter is, I love this way too much to just stop.

Fanfic ain't no passing craze

            As a reader, it is always fun to discover other family members that read too. It’s like validation that you’re not alone, that there are other little freaks in the bloodline too. I’ve found the same thing applies to writing.

            Fanfiction is a highly contested thing among writers, with varying degrees of love, toleration, and outright hate. Personally, I feel fanfiction has its place. I enjoy reading it on the side and there are some amazing writers in those circles. Then again, there are also some horrible ones too. So horrible you ask yourself while reading, why did this person ever think putting pen to paper was a good idea? But writers can grow, and many do while writing fanfiction. They test the waters, learn what works for them and what doesn’t, and can eventually work up to writing original stories.

            Unfortunately, to my knowledge, the other little freak in my family tree didn’t make it past fanfiction. My dad has made a comment here and there about one of his aunts being a writer, but the only one I have proof of is from my mom’s side, a cousin of hers who is sadly no longer with us. I just consider myself lucky enough to have a piece of her writing, and it is wrestling fanfiction.

            The irony here is that I began reading wrestling fanfiction, based on current superstars, a couple of years ago. Most of it is a smut-fest, but some actually contain amazing storylines that I wish, just for a minute, were real.

            This cousin was clearly very young when she wrote the story, and it is in an aged blue folder, on yellowed paper in fading pencil. It’s a tentative connection to a kindred spirit that I never got to meet. It came up on the fly this past week while talking to Bear and it occurred to me that I should type this story up and save it, so that piece of her is never lost.

            Her name would have been great on the spine of a book. It was a very author-ish name.

            Is writing a gene to be passed down through the generations? I don’t think so, but it’s a special inclination that not everyone feels, giving those who do a connection that wouldn’t have otherwise existed. When that is with actual family, even family moved on to the next world, it’s special.

            Here’s to you, TVD. We never met, but we shared words. Blessed be.

            Have a good week. Kelswitch, over and out.

I do not own this photo.