Dorothy Colleen

writing prompt

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here is a little writing prompt: Two police entered the bus station. One seemed too young, an impression mostly given by the fact his uniform is too large for him. The other had grey hair and wrinkles, but carried himself with confidence and strength. The younger officer opens a locker, and strains to pull out a duffel bag. The older officer unzips the bag, revealing it is stuffed with cash. The younger man swallows, and says, "We're gonna get killed for this, arent we?" The older man replies, "Probably."

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not in a good place

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I am facing a group of issues, any one of which would put serious strain on my spoon count.

The first is my bipolar cycle, which seems to be accelerating, somehow. I've had three crippling depressions inside of two weeks, each only lasting hours. This is far faster than anything I've dealt with before, and I dont know why its happening.

The second involves my PTSD. I seem to be in a state of hyper-awareness, the total opposite of my usual disassociation. And just like the bipolar cycle, i have no clue why.

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The case of the Grimwood girl's school

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The case of Grimwood Girl’s School

There are several cases involving Mr. Sherlock Holmes that for one reason or another, I was not able to release near the time that they happened.

Usually, this was because of the sensitive or possibly embarrassing nature of the case, especially when it involved a person of higher standing.

This is true of the case I’m about to relate, but the person who was most affected by it was myself.


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This story is 78 words long.

a big thank you

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just wanted to give a big public "thank you" to everyone who sent me revisions/corrections o my story. I'm working my way through them now, and I believe the story will be better for it.

Again, thanks, and huggles to commentator, Eric, Xtrim, and Patricia Marie Allen for their assistance, and Qmodo who also volunteered.

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putting on my own mask first

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Today I wanted to go swimming. This became difficult when Sharon phoned just as I was leaving asking me to take Sam to West Edmonton mall, but I told her I had made my plans for the day. At first, I felt like I was being selfish, but then I remembered someone posing about how airlines tell parents to put on their own oxygen masks first, because if you pass out, you cant help your kid anyway. So today, I put on my own mask first.

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so sorry for a lack of new stuff

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Just wanted anybody who has been hoping for something new from me to know; its gonna be a while. Depression and PTSD have drained my spoons, and in any case I seem to be seriously stuck on my Sherlock Holmes story.

So sorry.

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afraid to write?

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One thing I've learned is that when I start acting in an uncharacteristic manner, something's wrong. And right now, I'm having problem writing my Sherlock story. At first, my brain tried to distract me by sending me a couple of small pieces (Toddy Notrope and The Last Race), as well as a new pathfinder character (Bobby Biglips, a drag queen/wizard), but now that those are finished, I'm finding a strange reluctance to go back to working on the Sherlock story, and I dont really know why.

Maybe if you guys sent my muse some encouragement and/or huggles, she would respond?

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The Last Race

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The Last Race

Nearly the entire crew had gathered in the crew lounge to hear who would be the lucky one, the last Starter for the very last Race.

As chance would have it, the task fell to Horatio Smalls, who was known by the crew for his love of obscure trivia about the Race, so there was little grumbling but much congratulations.

Once he had graciously accepted his crewmates’ salutes, he bustled to the Starter’s booth to begin the last preparations for the Race.


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This story is 86 words long.

a positive response

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I apparently forgot to tell everybody that I went to my writing group Thursday, and shared "Under the stars" (which you can read here: https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/44433/under-stars ) and they absolutely loved it.

I really needed the positive reinforcement, you know?

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Lego Dotty

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okay so dream time again:

I dreamed I was the star of an animated TV show where I played a Lego version of myself.

In the dream my Lego self got into a hockey game with Lego versions of Disney villains and ended up getting slightly singed, to the laughter of my Lego friends and people saying "That's Dotty all over" as the credits ran.

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too many ideas?

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I am currently writing: a tribute fan fic of Sherlock Holmes, a story about being kidnapped by aliens who are doing tag and release, a story about a race around the solar system, a story about a young girl with healing powers, a story about a school for mermaids, unicorns, witches, and vampires, and a story about finding a bracelet that summons a portal to alternate realities. Not to mention another Jaci/Dottie story.

Who else has too many ideas at once?

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a sad-angry moment

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i had a really angry-sad moment today.

See, we're in a provincial election, and the guy everybody expects to win is very anti-LGBT. This was made abundantly clear today when he announced he would scrap the law that protects LGBT kids from being outed by their teachers.

I spent a long time in prayer asking for help to find grace for this man, so my anger wouldnt kill me ...

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okay, so this happened today

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I went shopping with Sam and Sharon today, and while in a store Sharon was approached by someone who asked her if she knew the strange individual who was following her daughter, and Sharon said "That's Sam's dad."

So she went and told me, and then I shared it with the cashier as we were checking out, and Sharon said, "He cross-dresses but he is a good guy anyway."

So ... that happened today.

Make of it what you will.

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how I became the queen of comments

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when I first arrived at this site I was a little shy about giving comments. (Its true!) But I always treasured it whenever someone left a comment on any of my stories, so one day I realized that if I felt that way, other authors might too, and so set out to try send out as much encouragement I could. I just hope I havent become annoying ...

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transition - the video game!

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just had the idea for a video game that would show through metaphor what transition is like - like you have to navigate the health care system maze, you can collect estrogen (or testosterone) as power ups, and so on,

What do you guys think?

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Toddy Notrope

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Toddy Notrope

Little Toddy Notrope looked like any other little boy.

Yes, he had blond hair, but it wasnt long. Nobody ever mistook him for a girl, or called him pretty.

Maybe he giggled sometimes, but so do a lot of little boys, and he also loved to follow behind his older brother or sit and watch wrestling, just like any other little boy would.

Besides imitating his brother, little Toddy Notrope loved to read, and loved to talk.

Boy, did he ever like to talk.

“Gonna be a lawyer one day” His grandfather said.


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This story is 95 words long.

a question about my bookmarked pieces

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I was looking at my bookmark page, and I noticed I have some blog entries along with the stories. but when I go to those blog pages there is nowhere on them to indicate they are bookmarked, and therefore no way for me to unbookmark them if I wanted to. I'm probably missing something obvious can anybody help me?

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Sympathetic magic

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Sympathetic Magic

Mardi Gras isn’t my thing, but there I was, in New Orleans.

Because James asked.

Not too many people stuck with me when I came out as a trans man, stopped being Barbra and became Benjamin, but James did.

So when he asks for help, I come.

He’s hung out a shingle as a P.I., getting a rep as the guy for the forgotten people, the ones the police ignore.


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This story is 75 words long.

last day for contest kudos

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Just a reminder today is the last day for kudos on stories in the reader retention contest.

No matter where my story places, my thanks to all the people who kudoed it, all the authors who contributed, Melanie for creating the contest, and Erin for this fantastic site.

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I may have bitten off more than I can chew

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I've talked here about how my stories have a life of their own, and in the case of one story I'm working on, it may be a Frankenstein's monster.

See, it started with me tossing around some ideas for my anniversary, and one was to do a little series of tributes to my favorite (non-Big Closet) authors, starting with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and his best know creation, Sherlock Holmes.

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writing update

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Just giving you guys a quick update on my writing:

I've almost got one story finished, its called "sympathetic magic", and I'm shooting for having it published by next weekend. I also have a mystery story underway, so stay tuned on that one.

Other than those two, I've been mulling over some ideas for my upcoming anniversary, not making a lot of progress.

Sorry, but a bout of PTSD plus being tired from Real Life (TM) has eaten away most of my writing spoons, so that I've had any writing done at all is a bit of a miracle, honestly.

Huggles to all who want one.

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8 more days to leave a kudo

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If you have been meaning to read a story from the reader's retention contest (and maybe even leave a kudo), the deadline is fast approaching.

My entry starts here: https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/77316/solomons-test-p... .

And thank you, to everyone for how well this story has been received

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adventures in name changing

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I wanted to share the story of my name change.

It all began not long after I began my transition, and discovered that if I wanted surgery, I would have to change my name. Which would have been difficult, because I was deep in debt, and didnt have the money it would take.

That changed when Walmart outsourced my department, and paid me out, giving me a about four thousand dollars.

With the money issue solved, I sent away to New Brunswick for a copy of my birth certificate, which I would need to start the ball rolling.

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a D & D poem

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A D & D poem:

with apologies to Larry Niven and Steven Barnes

Oh, I once had a sword, or a sword had me,

turned my cowardliness into bravery

We had many battles, the sword in the lead

I always hated it, I dont like to bleed

one day I got lucky, could leave the sword behind

deep in a dungeon for some sucker to find

Dont worry now, I still do some good.

I carry a club. No-ego wood!


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This story is 80 words long.

upcoming anniversary

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I was looking at my account info the other day, and realized that in about 3 months, I will be celebrating my 10th anniversary of being a member here.

And so I've been thinking about how I might knowledge this milestone with a story.

Right now, I'm not sure what I might do. I've got one small piece almost finished that might help me avoid not having anything to share for the next three months, but beyond that ...

I could do something like Randalynn's "Convergence: when stories collide", but I'm not sure what stories would make the cut.

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read a piece for a writing group, they loved it

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So I went to a writing group meeting tonight, and read a piece called "voiceless" (which you can read here: https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/47484/voiceless ) and the group was very moved by it, and couldn't praise me enough.

Always nice to get positive feedback, you know?

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Pathfinder: The Siege of Fiddler's Vale

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Pathfinder: The Siege of Fiddler’s Vale.

In loving memory of crazypagangurl, aka Tiffani, who was a great help in getting this one started.

Prologue

Sometimes, bad things just come out of nowhere.

But sometimes, there is a warning.

And riding hard towards the town of Fiddler’s Vale, a warning is coming ...


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This story is 53 words long.

I dreamed I could fly

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last night, I dreamed I could fly.

Well, I say, "fly" but what in the dream I was walking, rather uncertainty, a couple of inches above the ground.

That wasnt the strange part of the dream.

The strange part was I went on a date with a woman and as part of the date we rode a bus together. I apologized for the non-romantic transportation, saying that I sucked at dating because I was in my 50's, and broke.

The woman seemed happy enough anyway, so there is that.

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life is so fragile.

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Life is so fragile, and so brief.

In late November Tiffany (aka crazypagangurl) passed away suddenly. Then, about a week ago, I got a phone call from a friend saying her wife had barely survived a health scare, and she was shaken to the core. Then one of my cousins tripped and fell and broke her shoulder, and was told a few inches difference she might have broken her neck instead. Now, Drea's wife has been taken from her.

What I'm saying is, tell the people you love that you love them. You never know when it will be the last time you speak to somebody.

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