Monthly Archives: October 2013

A Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

DSC05282In searching for an old drawing someone from my college days drew for me, I looked first in an old folder I’ve kept since my earliest days of writing. As you might guess, I started “In a Wolf’s Eyes” back then. I might’ve named this blog post “The Story That Wouldn’t Die”, since all through these years I kept the novel alive in my mind and in my heart. It wasn’t named “In a Wolf’s Eyes” then, of course, and it was written on notebook paper and in pencil. Pencil can be erased, you see.

Over the course of the years, I finished the book using a word processor (remember them?), then finally my first laptop computer. I’m now glad I never published my first attempt at writing. Seriously, it sucked rocks. As a writer, as a person, I needed time to develop my style, my voice and above all my maturity. Because I’m a sentimental sap, I kept my precious folder all these years, even if I never looked inside.

But that’s not all I want to say in this post. In going through this tattered and stained folder containing my first real writing, I came across the notes I made to myself. I even wrote an outline. I never do now – as I’m a renegade seat of the pants writer. It’s funny how I’d long forgotten how I made notes to myself – just as I do this day. ‘Change this name’, made notes about medieval clothing, or armor. Did you know the long steel protrusion from a warhorse’s head armor was called a “chanfron”? I did – then. I’d forgotten it until now. Yes, I still make notes on pieces of paper. Then I transfer to my computer and my notes program. Yet, that may change since I lost my laptop’s motherboard to its excessive party habits, and thus all my notes are on my old hard drive and inaccessible right now. Grrrr.

I felt truly stunned when I reread a list I never remember writing. I don’t remember why I wrote it, or what prompted writing it in the first place. I’d written five down, while I had a numeral six with nothing beside it, I’m guessing I never finished this list. I will copy it here verbatim:

            If you picked up this book in the bookstore, would you buy it?

            Can you see this book in a store?

            Can you relate to the characters?

            Do you laugh when it’s funny, feel sad at sad parts (does it invoke emotion in you)?

            Do you see imagery in your mind’s eye?

I feel like the past me, like a spooky ghost, reached forward in time and planted this in my head while I wrote the current “In a Wolf’s Eyes”, and its subsequent sequels.  That’s because the answer to every question is YES. Yes, I did all that. You folks reading this will, hopefully, pick up “In a Wolf’s Eyes” see for yourself how I created my own self-fulfilling prophecy. That it is indeed in bookstores (albeit online stores), I invoke the gamut of emotions in my readers, and see imagery in my mind’s eye? Yes, indeed. Every time I sit down to write, I visualize what’s happening and then write it. Weird, eh?

I might have to take a second look in that school-days folder with the picture of a winged unicorn on it. Some of those ideas from it are still valid, even from years past. I might even have a use for that bloody chanfron.

Categories: My Writing | Leave a comment

Friendship vs Employer

I got into a Facebook argument tonight: can one be a friend to one’s employer. The consensus was no. I disagreed. I’m friends with my current boss and yet consider him a friend. I’ve been friends with past managers and am friends with them to this day. I can respect my leader, do what I’m told, and still be his friend.


Because I can be both. As can he. We can talk to each other, confide in one another, and rely on one another. He tells me what I have to do. I do it. I love him as my friend, yet respect his authority. I make him money, he pays me well, and what I post on Facebook I never have to worry that he’ll see it. The argumentor (if that’s a proper word) of this discussion said that his employee called in sick, needed a day off despite his boss’s dire needs – and posted his party habits on Facebook. Call in sick, party till the cows come home, and wonder why he’s been fired.


In my years at this career, not just this job, I’ve called in sick twice. In almost thirteen years of working this job, I called in sick that much. I went to work after a root canal when my boss (my friend) called and said he really needed me. I’m ok, I replied. I went to work that afternoon. I called in sick on a day I couldn’t work anyhow – it rained puppies and kittens. Can’t work in that pouring rain, anyway. I called in sick a few years ago when I ran a fever so high I shook under a blanket and three cats. How chilled does a body have to be when a blanket and three cats can’t warm you? That was the last time I called in sick, by the by.

I’ve left work early due to migraines, allergy illness, or just feeling unwell. But I did get most of my work done before I left. What I didn’t do I finished up the next day. Ask my employer if he wishes he hadn’t hired me – sight unseen, based on someone else’s recommendation. Go ahead. Ask him. You can find him easily at He knows I’ll always be straight with him, as I know he’ll always be straight with me. But why do I have to discuss this? Why should such a subject be needed at all?

Because some folks have no honor. No code. No loyalty. They lie, call in sick, and party like the world ends tomorrow. Are they stupid? Do they think their employers are? Come on, people! Let’s get real. You aren’t hiding anything. People know. People talk. Word spreads like a wildfire in a pine-beetle killed forest. Your boss knows exactly what you’re doing whether you post it on Facebook or not. Someone out there in the land called reality knows what you’re doing. As does that man that pays you.

This might apply in my own Katie-world. No, I hide nothing from my liege lord. But someone out there is keeping tabs on those who do wrong. Those who spread rumors from spite and insecurity. Eyes watch. Notes kept. Answers demanded. Maybe not now. Perhaps not even tomorrow. But one day that account with be called. And who will answer?

Those that don’t fear the call.

Categories: My Rants | Leave a comment

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