Because I’m still formulating, editing and generally unfucking the thoughts that were to be posted today, let’s do something quick and dirty instead. Due to a twitter I wanted to respond to this weekend, I revisited the HorrorWench, because there was a pertinent post there once upon a time. And as I was looking for it, I saw that the persona was looser, a touch more insane, and sadly, funnier. I lost my funny?!! Or so I question…

A lot has happened in the last few years, more so in the last six months, and my voice is changing because of it. I feared it for a while, now I’m getting comfortable with the idea of it [although this YA Fantasy building steam in my brain kinda worries me!]. But my blog voice doesn’t have to leave the silly behind, does it?

So here’s a question for my 7-1/2 loyal readers… should I include the silly? The short snark and quick quips? Should I let that slightly insane part of me back out in public or keep this serious? Do I stick to thought out posts of turtles and roadtrips and metaphor laden apples, or do I splash in the everyday stupid? Do you really care if that commercial irritated me, or do you just want to hear what I’m working on [1 novella, 2 novels, 3 shorts, contracts for 2 new things, and edits for 2 other people]?

I’ve changed. My life has changed. My blog has changed. They say change is good… but does change necessarily mean stopping one thing completely and going a different direction, or can it be a strange melding of personalities?

Speak up! I can’t hear you…

Originally published at kellidunlap.com. You can comment here or there.

I’ve expected a lot of things over the years. No, scratch that, I’ve hoped for a lot of things, and only in hindsight did I realize I had expected them. I had hoped that my marriage wouldn’t fail if I only did this, or that, or whatever. Wrong. I had hoped that the divorce would be amicable if I was overly nice and swallowed my pain and anger and let him spew his hurtful words. Wrong [though it's gotten much better since the finale]. I had hoped to find a job quickly in PA. I had hoped to get several things published that were bounced back at me. Way back when, I had hoped to… well, there’s a lifetime. I’m sure anyone could easily fill a page worth of lifetime hopes that just didn’t make the final cut, so let’s move on.

Let’s look at hope and expectations, and break it down. Because they really are different. Hope is that final twinkle, that glimmer that something will work out. When you’ve done everything possible, and you sit back and cross your fingers—that’s hope. If you really boil it down, it’s weak and relies on outside influences, which is never a good thing. But at the same time, hope comes with work. You put your effort in and now you’re waiting on others, or outcome, or whatever. Expectations are similar, but based on something strong enough to upgrade it from hope. There’s a touch of belief and some aggression involved. But unlike hope, expectations don’t necessarily come with the work. They’re hope for others, rather than self. And as such, they rely on outside influences far too much, and can be crushing when not realized. Other than painful, unrealized expectations can be damaging—to your chi, to friendships, etc.

A wise man once said, “The greatest disappointment in life is expecting others to act/react like you would.” Those words have stuck with me. They’ve been there in times of contemplation, they’ve been there in times of disappointment. They are good words. But disappointment sucks, so what do you do about it? Do you stop expecting others to do/act/behave a certain way? How? Or do you lower your standards so that they’ll fit and your disappointment will be muted? Ugh, no, that won’t do.

A lot of layer peeling and digging deep in the past few months has garnered a different me. Yeah, yeah, I’m happier, but on a different note, I get myself more. I know what I want, what I like, what I’ll put up with. And I noticed that I also find myself with new expectations and new disappointments—a whole new cookie jar of hope. I don’t plan on lowering my standards. I don’t plan to stop hoping for the best reaction. I am, however, chanting that wise saying like a mantra and getting it through my thick skull that you can’t control others, their behavior, their actions, and can only deal with the aftermath if what they think or do or say touches you. Afterall, there’s likely a reason they did what they did that fits their own logic—their hopes and expectations.

Here’s to hoping my expectations work out… [oh yeah, that's totally setting me up for some good blog material disappointment, but hey, what's a writer if not tortured?!!]

[Cheating this week: Wednesday blog instead of Monday and no coffee talk... we'll return to our regular schedule next week.]

Originally published at kellidunlap.com. You can comment here or there.

Ah, Salaam and good evening to you worthy friend. Please, please, come closer…  Welcome to Agrabah, city of mystery, of enchantment, and the finest merchandise this side of the river Jordan—on sale today, come on down! Heh, heh. Look at this! Yes! Combination hookah and coffee maker… Oh wait, this isn’t Agrabah. It’s still the internet, it’s still a blog, and even though there’s a genie of sorts involved and java in Aladdin, this is not a Disney film, this is coffee talk!

Let’s play an old game… three wishes, and ixnay on wishing for more wishes! I’m not a high maintenance girl. I don’t really care about name brands and shiny things. Lately, I’ve been chanting my wishes like a mantra in hopes the universe would notice little ol’ me among the throngs. I knew my three wishes: Find a job, find a house, be happy. Unfortunately, much like my to-do lists, wishes are often crossed off when obtained, only to make room for whatever the next thing might be—cross off one, add two. I got the house, I got the job, and I’ll be damned… I’m happy. So what do I wish for now? hmmm… I’ve got some ideas.

What about you? What are your three wishes, right now. Not next week, not next year, but right now. What three things would make your world a shinier place if the universe provided? And remember… be careful what you wish for!

Originally published at kellidunlap.com. You can comment here or there.

Last November I blogged about sitting on a new porch drinking coffee from an old cup. I find myself thinking about that post a lot lately. Or rather, thinking of everything I didn’t put it in. Instead of talking about my emotions, I spoke of neighbors. Rather than poking the pain that came before the move, I talked about unpacking boxes. I didn’t talk about the fear of starting over, I watched the world wake up. There were no metaphors, just avoidance. I thought about doing a sister post, as I am currently sitting on a new porch—again. But my frame mind is different, the boxes are already unpacked and this neighborhood isn’t about avoidance, it’s about growth and acceptance. Last time I was running away. This time I wasn’t running. I was actively searching out happiness, and hoping to avoid that moment when you wake up at 60 and start to think of the could haves and should haves.

I’ve been visiting friends in PA for long enough and decided it was time to just do it—just move. I told my parents and asked them to tell me why I shouldn’t… they offered to help pack. I asked my friends and they replied with “Why not?” and one “Take me with you.” So I took the plunge. I moved across country. I did it. I packed my life into a Uhaul with a mastadon/NYC museum side image and trekked across five states in the dead of night like some fugitive. It was exciting and felt adventurous. It was nerve wracking and scary. We stopped in Plainfield [Ed Gein's territory] and I watched my last Wisconsin sunset… and then left the state behind. Left family, left friends, and left a job I loved.

And while trying to remember which cupboard in the hew house held the strainer, it hit me. I did this. Followed by, What the hell was I thinking?! I felt tears threaten that I didn’t understand. My stomach flipped a few times. And then a little voice in the back of my head whispered, “Breathe.”

Yes it was scary, yes it was a big adjustment, but as much as fear tries to wiggle in on occasion, that little voice reminds me that I’m happy. No, let me clarify that. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. Ever. I got a great job, a nice house to rent, a boy that gets me and treats me the way I want and should be treated, and have several of my favorite people within spitting range. Yes, it’s scary, but nothing worth having isn’t worth a little fear and risk. I knew I did the right thing while sitting at the picnic table with my friends, because I could be there, they could be there, it was a possibility now. I knew I did the right thing when I had to dig and find my anger to write a section that required it, because it was no longer hovering there on the surface. I knew I did the right thing when I had to drive all the way back to Wisconsin to drop the kids at their dad’s for the summer and then said, “All right, let’s go home.” Home.

I’m home now. And the stress of the past few years is done. I survived the medical and mental bullshit. It’s time to stop hiding and start living life. It’s time to get back on the band wagon, reinvent myself, reintroduce myself to the internet and kick the genre’s ass. I’m home, and I’m back. Now then… where were we? Oh yeah, I have a novel and several shorts and two novellas to finish, polish, submit. Pass the coffee, there’s work to be done!

Originally published at kellidunlap.com. You can comment here or there.

Now that I have your attention… The new Shroud Magazine magazine is out… #6… Spring Issue… It hit stands last week (by now it should even be at Barnes & Nobel in BFE)! Why should you care? Several reasons:

1. Shroud is a great genre mag.

2. This issue features Rick Hautala and also includes the likes of Bev Vincent, Kevin Lucia and Weston Ochse.

3. I have a story in it! (ok, so 1 & 2 were just build up for 3… so sue me.) “The Man Who Slept Through Tomorrow” is this issue’s ProgKNOSTications with Michael Knost.

Of course, if Barnes & Noble isn’t a local pleasantry for you, there’s always the option of ordering it direct from Shroud. Hey, while you’re there you could just get a subscription if you don’t have one… why not?! Either way, grab your wallet and snag a magazine, after all, it’s only $6.99.

Speaking of cheap… did you grab Fresh Blood yet? “Left for Dead” is part of the first annual, tri-author anthology from Burning Effigy Press. And it’s only $8.00—go… grab one of those, too! I mean, because really, for less than $20.00 you can get both of my new stories, plus of plethora of chewy goodness from other authors. Hell, that’s cheaper than a date and you don’t even have to leave your house!

Shroud #6… available here.  Fresh Blood… available here.

Originally published at kellidunlap.com. You can comment here or there.

Now that I’m back home, I apologize for my quiet. I’ve been busy. Doing what, you ask? Ah well…Grab a coffee and let me tell you the first of many stories to come!

My parents should be ashamed. Ashamed I tell you! They raised a responsible adult that pays her bills on time and has no debt. What the hell were they thinking? Did they not understand how this was going to complicate my life down the road?!!  oy…

So, in the latest installment of Customer *cough cough* Service [because I don't believe I've done one since way back in the days of HorrorWench on LJ] I offer, “How to rent a car as a responsible adult.”

The time for the move is getting closer. I’ve given notice at work. I’ve given notice on my rental property. I’ve scoured school districts and talked to principals, councilors and real estate agents about areas for my kids. I’ve gathered medical records and birth certificates and everything else I may need from this state before I leave it. And I’ve applied at 972 jobs… but haven’t found one. Crunch time and panic has set in. Some brief discussion with the aforementioned parents and we all believe that it’s going to be difficult to find a job from four states away [after all, how do they know I'm really moving? And why pick me if they've got candidates standing right there in front of them?], and that I need to get my butt out to PA and hoof those streets until I find one. Okay then. That’s what I’ll do.

Get the plane ticket, make a packing list, let the schools know that their father is the primary emergency contact for a few weeks, call friends and secure temporary lodging, and rent a car. Stop there. Actually, rather than just stopping, how about we come to a screeching halt in front of a lovely brick wall and bang our heads on it… Repeatedly?

Check prices online and find the best rates. Reserve the car. NOT. I don’t have a credit card—I believe plastic is evil and the reason that most of the country is in debt is because of credit. It’s a bad thing. I spend money I have [interesting concept, isn't it?!] and pay my bills on time. And for this, I can’t reserve online. So I call the place and see if I can use the debit card for payment, you know, real money that you can touch and everything. Sure I can, no problem, all I have to do is provide my insurance information, my driver’s license, my last pay stub and a current electric bill.

Ummm… Remember up above when I said I pay my bills on time? Yeah, not only are they paid on time, I’ve paid ahead this month because I’m going to be gone. So I have no current bills. I have nothing due at all—electric or otherwise. Of course, they don’t care if it’s paid, they just need to see the bill itself, but I’m moving, so I’m not saving anything. I’m not hauling anything across country that I don’t need to, so I paid and threw the bills away. My cell phone is paid online, how about that? Nope. Must be a landline for phone. How about my cable bill? Nope. That can be secondary, but it’s gotta be an electric or heat bill—which are together in my world. Crap! Ok, let me call them and see what I can do…

After several hours on the phone with Rachel at “BFE Electric”, who by the way was very nice and wins big points for that, I find that they can print any number of reports and email them to me, none of which have the information the rental place needs [let's just call them e-cars]. They can reprint my last bill and mail it, rather than email it, but then it won’t get here until after I’m gone. Argh… Finally, Rachel decides if I set up the online account I could print it myself from there. Cool! So we set it all up and she says wait 24 hours for it to be in the system. She apologizes for everything and we hang up. And wait…

24 hours later, I gleefully log into my account online to find that I have less identity than a new born baby. Oh I have an account, and I’ll have bills on there in the future, but there is no history. Nothing to print. Nothing that will help. CRAP! Ok, call e-cars back.

I’m sure it sounded like my house was on fire from the panic in my voice, and I half expected them to tell me in a robotic voice, “if this is an emergency, please hang up and dial 911.” However, on this day, I got a new person on the phone: Jessica. Sweet thing. Very helpful. And bonus, recently relocated herself and had some tips for me. Of course, all of that aside, I still didn’t have an electric bill. I need a car to get to interviews, learn the roads, find a house—you know, everything I need to do to actually relocate. She understands and we start a game of cat and mouse. She suggests something, I concur, she asks a supervisor. No. I suggest something, she gets hopeful and runs to ask a supervisor. No. We go back and forth for a while and then she asks about a cable bill.  “Wait… the man I spoke to yesterday said I couldn’t use that.” Pish-posh, and off to beg a supervisor. She comes back and says it’s a go. I log into my account, tell her what’s on screen, she cheers, I hit print—e-cars here I come!

“Just bring in your insurance, the bill and your driver’s license. And make sure all the information matches.”

Matches? Ahh crap! See, I got divorced and moved to an apartment. Everything has the right address on it except my driver’s license, which I didn’t change because I’m moving to PA and would have to change it out there. Grrrr… Ok, call the DMV and find out how fast I can get a new license. Except it’s the DMV and around these parts they have reduced their hours to “every third tuesday when the moon is full and you hop up and down on one leg”… CRAP! Ok, I’m leaving in 2 days, what can I do? Call the mom, get her DMV information. Are you kidding me? Mine is “supposedly” open tomorrow. If it’s not, I’ll drive an hour to mom’s and hit hers, but I have to do it right away in the morning because their friday hours are from 8 to 8:15am, ok, it was really to 3pm but still, if I wait for the kids to get home from school and go, they’ll be closed. So I will have to drive over, get license, drive back, get kids, drive over again for the weekend and Airport Bed & Breakfast. I heart murphy, really I do. Bright and early the next morning I hit the DMV, and lo ‘n behold they’re really open. Cool! Go in, fill out the form, wait my turn. While I’m waiting… nah, this blog is long enough, we’ll save that tidbit for another time! Get license, get home, pack, grab kids and head to mom’s. Off to PA I go…

You’d think the story would be over, wouldn’t you? Hmmm… not so much. That was just the flirting, now we’re going on the actual date and I have spaghetti and red wine with a white dress. So I physically get to e-cars and apparently my reservation has been flagged, because when the nice 14-year-old looking boy types me into the system, he immediately looks at me like I’m a wanted fugitive, excuses himself and retrieves the manager. Is your head hanging yet? Rolling your eyes yet? Because yes, feel my pain!

Going over the entire saga again, I have to re-explain why I need a car, why I don’t live in PA, how long I’ll have it, where I’ll be staying, where I used to work, where I hope to work, my shoe size and what I had for breakfast. Holy shit, really? Just because I’m a responsible adult and don’t have plastic? Are you kidding me? Seriously, do I look like someone that rents cars and then never brings them back? I have to list local contacts. I list who I’m staying with and who brought me to e-cars. Crap, don’t remember the first one’s address, so I call and explain and get the address. The second is still in the parking lot, waiting to make sure I get the car. And the manager of e-cars then tells me they have to check to make sure I know these people. Really? I just called the one and you can wave to the other one… right there, outside your window. Nope, not good enough. So they call the first and ask if he knows me, if I’m staying with them, where he works, how old his daughter is, what color his wife’s eyes are, and whether or not their puppy has ever chewed on a neighborhood cat. Ok, not that bad, but you get it. Then they call the other one… in the parking lot. I’m listening to the manager talk and watching the eye-rolling and wide “are you kidding?” smile through the window. And then I finally get handed keys… to a car that is NOT what I reserved. At this point, I don’t care if they’d have given me an out of commission mail truck. I smile, grab the keys, try not to be snarky and leave.

No debt, good credit, avoid plastic—these are things that should be good. These are things that my parents instilled in me at an early age. These are things that the modern world does not comprehend. Thank god today’s society has hair dye available to cover my new gray!

Originally published at kellidunlap.com. You can comment here or there.

Have you been paying attention? Did you notice the cover for Fresh Blood? Did you see the teaser with story blurbs? Did you catch that Burning Effigy is releasing this May 30, 2009?

Do you know what today is?!

That’s right… Fresh Blood, the new annual tri-author anthology from Burning Effigy, is now available! For a tiny donation [that your spouse won't even beat you for... yes, I'm talking to those of you with that book-buying addiction] of only $8.00, you can get the latest stories from me, Bob Freeman and Dave Alexander. Go… go now… you know you want this!

Fresh Blood, available from Horror Mall or directly from Burning Effigy Press…

Note to male readers, relatives and friends: I apologize in advance for what you’re about to read. Don’t worry, I’m really a very sweet person and would never do any of these things to any of you… unless you had it coming =)

Originally published at kellidunlap.com. You can comment here or there.

Cover for Fresh Blood… available May 29!!

Originally published at kellidunlap.com. You can comment here or there.

For those paying attention, yes, I got divorced. Life has been icky for a while, between that and medical bullshit, and because that’s not enough, stress has been tossed at me like eggs from a teen’s beat up truck lately. BUT, for the record, I am happier than I’ve been in a long, long…ever! I know who I am and what I want and how to get it, and I’m enjoying life again. I whistle and hum and smile, oh my. So with that in mind, the irony of my con schedule just makes me giggle! My job at this year’s Mo’Con was to be the voice of reason, er, negative energy on the panels.

First up: Love and Horror, with happy couples [Tom & Michelle [Scalise-]Piccirilli and Gerald Houarner & Linda Addison] talking about writing and loving each other… and me, telling you how being married to a writer is not always fun, doesn’t always work out, and ok, so I may have had a momentary tangent or two where I spewed some spousal hate regarding support and understanding and jealousy of the muse, but remember, that was my job. Alethea Kontis joined me on the darker side of the love fence, because yes, girls and boys, you don’t have to be married to the writer to make their life hell!

Second panel: Maurice vs. Wrath, aka Christianity hasn’t got a chance. Yeah, if you know me, you know exactly which side of the fence I’m on here. I joked and said I was just going to sit by Wrath and occasionally say, “yah!”–instead, well, let’s just say I’ve been known to have opinions… and again, to that sweet girl in the audience, sorry for the snark, sometimes my outside voice just has a life of its own.

General con report stuff? Goofy con report you were expecting or looking for…well, it’s a new me since the divorce. Layers have been peeled—some thrown away and others tie-dyed to match my mood. It was a new way to con [and yes, I smell a blog that details that further]. There was no notebook, although Maurice made a great comment regarding that: “Twitter is the new con notebook… and everyone’s got one!” I left the picture taking to others for the most part, sat back and enjoyed the con. I pimped my novel [In The Shadow of Darkness, coming 2009/2010 from Bloodletting Press's new imprint Morning Star], my upcoming chap inclusion [Fresh Blood coming May 29,2009, yearly triple-header chap from Burning Effigy Press], and my story/interview [Upcoming Shroud Magazine issue]. I spoke mysteriously of a secret writing project that I hope to announce soon. I got invited to an antho [over a dare, a giggle and warmed up chicken---and without the aid of Doritos!] and have 3 weeks to fulfill my promise. The “war committee” titled and talked about another antho. I made plans to hit Brooklyn after the move for some much needed and long overdue hang time with Linda [this every-few-years-at-a-con crap is for the birds!] I laughed until I cried, I lost my voice, I got a new nick name, I hung with friends, I kissed babies and shook hands. It was a good con. Then again, Mo’Con being more of a family reunion than a convention is generally like that…

If you were there this year, it was GREAT to see you [please share your pics!!], hang with you, discuss whatever with you and get threatened by you [my thighs are not for biting, you know who you are!]. If you weren’t, you should really rectify that next year. Why? Because if you go through history and read all the Mo’Con reports over the years, you’ll see that you’re missing a great weekend. And not for nothing, but next year is Kelli-Con [as Maurice is referring to it]. I will be a GOH and am being allowed to help mold the discussions, panels and events. I’ve already cemented “Sex and Fiction” which promises to be hysterical, informative and probably quite embarrassing for some—good times! [We've actually got a full outline with some fun new things, but I'll let Mo announce that stuff] It’s also going to be Maurice’s 40th birthday, which means that this little town and his little church had probably brace themselves… you however, will be just fine, so clear your calendar and come along for the ride!!

Originally published at kellidunlap.com. You can comment here or there.

If you weren’t lucky enough to get a copy of “New Dawn” don’t worry there’s more where that came from! [Although, a side note is required here: why didn't you get one?! Not a member of Brian Keene's message board? Why not?! Shame on you!! You missed a lovely little Christmas present: short stories from Nate Southard, Maurice Broaddus, Bob Ford, and me, with an intro and uber short from Keene... *tsk tsk*] But as I was saying…

Looking for a Dunlap fix? Burning Effigy is extremely thrilled to announce the launch of a new offshoot to our horror chapbook line. The series, titled FRESH BLOOD, features three terrifying tales by talented trio of up-and-coming horror scribes. We hope to make FRESH BLOOD a new yearly tradition. Here’s what the inaugural edition will be offering up:

Originally published at kellidunlap.com. You can comment here or there.