Bit of Bella

March 15, 2018, 5:24 pm
Filed under: journal

tammie brown skirt twirl

Since I completed a full year of accountability blogging (!?), this site is currently on hiatus while I work on

my playthrough of Witcher 3: Wild Hunt on YouTube,

my queer and feminist speculative fiction podcast Beauty and the Bitch,


You can contact me through the Beauty and the Bitch Facebook fan page or via email at!

Thanks for reading and supporting, friends! I’ll return to this blog once I’ve completed some of my other projects.



Last Week in Writing
January 1, 2018, 5:10 pm
Filed under: journal | Tags: , , , ,


January 1st is a time for resolutions. Resolutions are fun, but a resolution without accountability is just a dream. Yep, dreams are even more fun.

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Last Week in Writing

December is almost over (?). I’ve been attending parties, making important phone calls, printing out manuscripts. Because I’m an adult, duh (?).

There are a few important things I’d like to accomplish this week, but mostly I’m resting, editing and recording Let’s Play videos till Christmas.

Gah. My life is SO hard. 🙂
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Last Week in Writing
December 11, 2017, 4:18 am
Filed under: journal

Another week has flown by and all I’ve gotten is a half-finished LOTR map of Hobbit research. Oh: also more debt. Always more debt.

Well, at least it’s proof that I’m alive!
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Last Week in Writing
December 6, 2017, 4:00 pm
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After a week off in Arkansas for Thanksgiving, I got back home and made out with my bed for days.

I’ve been putting off this post because life has changed a bit and it’s time to refresh my goal list. That’s always scary. But I’m…a sensitive person. And if I’m trying to achieve goals that don’t actually make sense to my life, I’ll just drive myself into the ground worrying about why something isn’t working/isn’t fun/isn’t showing results.

Life is too short for that mess. Better to step back, take stock and reassess where we’re going.

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Last Week in Writing
November 19, 2017, 9:31 am
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I really do love writing. I’m at my most honest and most vulnerable on the page and the act of writing has saved my life at least once.

But I also think (know!) that writing is a scary, overwhelming slog.

My book and I, we’re…friendly right now. In a cool, strained kind of way.

Mostly because this novel is frightening mutable for something I’ve worked on for over five years. This picture is of the most recent draft – edits I made today. I have to send it off to grad schools next week…and every time I look at it, I want it to be different.

Which is not an insurmountable problem. Mostly they’re cosmetic edits. Except that this is like draft #12 or something?

As Kady says in The Magicians (on SyFy, duh):

I just want something to be fixed.  

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Last Week in Writing

For about four months in 2011, I worked on a video project that necessitated one hour of taping per day. It was a randomly selected hour – once I was commuting to work, once I was taking a bath. During that hour, the computer recorded unobtrusively from a corner and I attempted to do whatever I would do normally.

The kernel and the question, I think, of the project was about my own identity. I was hoping I would forget the camera eventually and get to watch myself outside myself. I worried I would catch weird tics or oddities that are so instinctual I don’t even consciously know that I’m doing them.

But after I went back and watched the footage, I found I couldn’t tell when I was performing and when I had truly forgotten I was being watched. Either the mask rarely slips or I’m not the raw bundle of nerves on the exterior that I am on the interior. Which is true two ways and therefore shouldn’t surprise me.

Anyway, I lost all that footage when my mac died (RIP MAC), but honestly it was so boring that even my own narcissism barely got me through it. I mean, granted, I’d much rather be boring than horrific, but I had hoped I’d see, maybe, a glimmer of genius or power or a pair of giant golden wings. Something special or unique.

Nope. Just a slightly chubby 23 year old reading books, sitting in the sun on a cot, playing with his hair.

High. Art.

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