layla

Thank you

I was trying to post a new story, and found that the create a story page seems to have changed some and I can't figure out why it won't let me save what I put in. It keeps saying fill in the fields, but the boxes are already blue so what is there to fill in?

I haven't been around much, but then, over the course of the last year, I haven't really done much in the way of writing. Most day, I feel like as soon as I get started i'm too tired to keep going and when I read what I wrote it reads like gibberish to me. For awhile there, I started to think that I shouldn't bother anymore, but then story ideas started flowing on to storyboards around my office, and I decided to leave the cork boards up to see if anything got done. Ech, it's slow, but something is trying to emerge. its funny, because some days I will have all these ideas and inspiration, but the get up and go dies right out of the gate and meh, its easier to sit in my easy chair beside my dog and watch tv instead of create something. I probably need to get out more and most likely rambling here, but a few weeks back I remembered how much I used to look forward to popping in here, hanging out on the chat and in the forums and interacting with people, and kicked myself for letting time get so far away from me. This whole year has felt like it's slipped away, or maybe it was just the meds I've been on making things seem out of sorts, I don't know i'm still trying to figure that part out. anyway, I'm back, put up a new story, fingers crossed I finish it. If anyone wanted to read anything else I've done that's not here, you can find it under Layla Dorine, there's some novels and stories and stuff out there. Happy reading. Drop me a line and say hi if you'd like, I need to crawl back out of my shell again. The Places You Enter Tell me what you fear And I’ll tell you what I am What you are what is coming Prophesy My white eye sees death My green one the depth of your shriveled soul I walk paths of cobblestone Footsteps splashing puddles tracing echoes of memory Shattered by cawing crows Black wings tipped with red Fluttering Falling without souls to curry No words to carry on I ride nightmares in a distant holler Searching for a place to hide To change grow shifting Evolving You know you can’t destroy me Killing what I am Would be killing what you’ll be When it all crashes to an end Enter Hold the door what you gain may be less than what you leave behind

this one right here is what i'm currently writing to, its going to be the theme for my next book.

I have three piercings with plans to get at least two more. Right now I have my eyebrows and lebret pierced. I also have six tattoo, with plans to get several more. I've got a dragon on my ankle, an anarchy sign on my thigh, the green man with a woven celtic knot band of vines around my arm, a semi colon inside of a celtic know on my wrist, tigger on one shoulder and a Pegasus on the other.

Not new, but haven't been around for awhile. planning to drop in more frequently moving forward though.

In June, it will have been a year since the release of my first novel, Guitars and Cages, through Wayward Ink, something that I never would have ever imagined, but that I am immensely proud of. it meant the fulfilling of a dream, it meant that no matter what, i would be able to say that i was a published novelist and no one could ever take that away. Since then, Broken Prince Mismatched Eyes and Desolation Angel have been released and I am in the middle of edits for Roadhouse Reds, these four novels were born here on GA and its only fitting that they be my introductions to the publishing world. I know i've been fortunate, all of my experiences so far have been wonderful. This year i finally decided to start submitting to anthologies, first with Wayward Ink, but i also have one coming out that will be through MLRPress. That story was a particularly hard one to write as it deals with suicide and I found myself remembering a friendship from my young adulthood and a young man who choose to end his life shortly before he might have graduated. He was funny, kind, tough as nails, an amazing dancer, a wonderful listener, a deep thinker and a loyal friend, which always left me wondering how he could feel that was the answer. I don't know, but i know that when i write i carry a lot of the people i've known into my stories. Sometimes I hold back, I've been striving not to do that anymore. i feel like writing has allowed me to tap into the courage i had when i was younger, but started to hide as an adult, as if i was trying to be someone other than me just to fit someone else's mold. Breaking out of that is hard, but in the process, I've discovered that it feels good to be true to myself. it feels good not to have to hide what I write either. I love my pen name, but once my mother discovered it and read Guitars and Cages that was pretty much it. even if i don't tell people what i write, she does, and I'm starting to be okay with that. I'm wrapping up a new book, in the middle of two anthology submissions, it also means the next two weeks are going to be insanely busy since i'm heading on a roadtrip on may 11 that's set to last a month and I'm excited. just got back from BDSM Con too and wow did i learn a ton. Being sick though has slowed me down this week, but i;ve made progress on my photographs at the pioneer cemetaries too, something I'm handling for my local paper. Got a traveling computer so i could keep up on the road, and my daughter whose my youngest child is finally at an age where she's excited to see what i'll bring her, rather than crying and begging me not to go away. In truth that's whats kept me pinned closer to home these last few years. I wrote out a draft for a new novel on the bus ride to everett last month, won't have time to work on it for awhile, but it will likely be my next freebie friday story once this one is done. I've got more ideas than time at the moment ,which sometimes sucks. Or maybe i just need to focus better. its likely a mix between the two. Anyway, I'm going to get back to writing now. Hope everyone has a wonderful weakened.