Kat Walker

Secondhand Life - Part 8

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Monterrey was relaxing. I started making a habit of running on the beach and into town. It wasn't too long before people stopped treating me like a sasquatch sighting and actually started waving and saying hello as I'd run by.

Secondhand Life - Part 7

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This gave me a wicked, wicked idea. I mentioned it to Eoin and he was all for it. But getting it by Dez was a trickier manouver.

Ma'am, step away from the muse.....

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I can't let my muse listen to the radio.....

There was a piece on public radio's "The World" today, about a woman who was hired to chauffeur some Saudi royal princesses around on their visit to L.A.

It was a fascinating story of cultural gulfs, economic gulfs, and how in so many ways, their world was so different from the 'little people' they interact with every day, they may as well have been from another planet.

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Secondhand Life - Part 6

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Hasta la vista Hollywood. Ahoy, America!

Post production on 'Birds was buttoned up and it was finally time for our press blitz road tour.

Summer of Love - Part 9

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“Well, since you're here, let's get a look at you” I smiled and playfully shook the skin around Kesey's neck. He cocked his head and leaned into my hands and his stubby tail began to wag.

Colin regarded me while I gave Kesey the once over.

“He's usually extremely shy, I'd even say ...skittish... around strangers. I've never seen him take to anyone the way he's taken to you....”

I smiled and regarded him for a moment. “What about you?”

He shrugged sheepishly.

Must..... stifle... muse....

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I finally closed the book on one of the three ongoing stories I'm juggling.

And I breathed a sigh of relief that I only had two tales to attend to...

(Apologies. I embrace alliteration when exhausted)

...but this clean space on my virtual desk is now becoming the itch that must not be scratched....

I've been dying to write a sci-fi (ish) first-contact story for a while now.

Of course it has a TG element, or I wouldn't be mentioning it here. ;-)

The longer I resist, the stronger the urge to start becomes.

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All rung out

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Why is it so much easier to start than to finish?

I guess it's also easier to just stop than to "finish" as well.

I knew I had to finish what I started with Dead Ringer because it seemed to be getting away from me and turning into more of an action thriller than the tale of survival and triumph of the trandgender protagonist that I originally intended.

I also really had to get out of the bad guy's head. It was giving me nightmares.

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Dead Ringer - Part 15

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Bill Lynch saw the plain white van turn into the alley so he stepped out from behind the dumpster and flagged them down.

“Jesus. TOOK you long....”

“ON YOUR KNEES” the commando bellowed.

Secondhand Life - Part 4

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It seemed I had the rest of the day free. I wandered into Katherine's 'office'. I guess it was a tax thing or somesuch, but this was the room with all the Katherine Keller memorabilia.... her framed first Vogue cover.... a number of other framed glossy magazines and photos, including one with a very perplexed looking Dalai Lama which made me smile. There was her Golden Globe, her people's choice award, a number of teen spirit awards going back to the time she first started modeling. I hadn't realized how long she had been doing this. How long since she had been a part of the 'real world'.

Dead Ringer - Part 14

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The game was on. And the one who started it all was beginning to question who was the hunter and who was the prey?

Secondhand Life - Part 3

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I was accompanying my cousin on his contest winning trip to a lavish Hollywood premiere. I was merely his 'plus one' and chaperone. The last thing I had intended was to become the center of attention - as the stand-in for the reclusive, troubled starlet.

Secondhand Life - Part 2

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I simply joined my cousin as his plus one on a contest winning trip to Hollywood.
I had hoped for a break from my rather miserable home life, but never imagined I'd get swept into the center of a scheme that belonged IN a Hollywood movie.

Summer of Love - Part 8

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A big part of my mood swings – at least to my mind, was Rain's dilemma. Part of my brain kept telling me that it wasn't my life and it wasn't my problem. Rain would sort things out and choose her own path. But most of my brain – and all of my heart – kept trying to imagine the anguish she must be going through. A new life, growing inside her, and she was wondering if she was grown up enough for the responsibility that would take.... and remembering her own past, suddenly seeing her childhood from the perspective of the young girl who was her own mother.

Secondhand Life - Part 1

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Call me Elsie. Everyone else does. Actually, it used to be L.C. And that was only because I never let anyone call me by my proper name.... never let anyone even know it if I could help it. What kind of parent names their kid Lorenzo Carlton? I used to half joke that I should be able to bring them up on charges, for naming your child something guaranteed to get them picked on at school surely counts as child cruelty.

OK. Updates.

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Hope I'm not TOO treading water here

Moving 'Dead Ringer' and Summer of Love along ever-so-slightly.

It feels more like a tease .... an appetizer without a meal.

....The meal's still on the stove...

I'm confident that it will still be a meal, but (much like the traditional Thanksgiving Dinner) it's more an aroma and a promise than the eventual fulfillment.

Still, I promise a fulfillment.

I just haven't worked out how to get from the bag-full-of-groceries to the inevitable food-coma yet, ;-)

But, I have no doubt that I WILL....

K@

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Gah! Stupid muse.... ;-)

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Hah./Grrrr....

Just burned off a chapter for 'Summer of Love' that I'm really happy with, but it's too far into the story.... I haven't gotten nearly close to the plot/character development to use this... but, wow.... I wrote it, slept on it and revisited it a couple of days later, and it still has the emotional ...punch... I felt when I wrote it. Or maybe transcribed it is a better word, because I only half-joke about the muse. Sometimes I read stuff and think. 'I was only the typist. I'm not capable of stuff like this.'

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To quote Jack Parr....

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"...As I was saying...." (Google it if you're under a certain age or not a fan of ancient television)

I'm mortified that my last fiction updates were nearly 3 months ago.

Yes, I've been having 'muse troubles' (she vanished without a trace, leaving me to slog along on my own), but I managed to eke out a bit more of both Dead Ringer and Summer of Love.

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Dead Ringer (Part 11)

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Chapter Twenty Eight

The pieces, methodically and patiently placed over the preceding three years, were all falling into place, and having laid dormant, were apparently still undetected. The end game was ready to begin.

Over the months Aaron and I had spent many long nights discussing the situation, and I was beginning to truly feel like the partner and co-collaborator that everyone always presumed the fictitious Lade 3V3 to be.

Summer of Love - Part 6

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On the ride to L.A. I reflected on how ...natural and comfortable I was being Jodie, ...or Olive ...or even Juanita. Many names, same girl..... same ….me. It was now Jody... or Joseph Junior... or Cadet O'Donnell that seemed like the fiction... or a biography I'd read. I remembered events from his life, but not viscerally. All the recollections were in my head... but none of them any longer lived in my heart.

Ack! My muse has ADD.

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Gah! I know (and curse myself everyday) that I have 2 open stories - Dead Ringer & Summer of Love - that I have seemingly abandoned.
Not entirely true.
Due to life distractions, I seem to have scared away the muse that was fueling both stories, and I continue struggling to advance them on my own... initially, offline.
Trust me - muse-less story continuation is not publishable. But I am determined to finish what I started,.. with or without my muse.. however long it takes to do it right,

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Dead Ringer (Part 2)

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Chapter Three

It didn't take long for the darknet to buzz with news that the goons had grabbed 3V3.

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