As often happens, it’s hard to figure where to start tonight, as I have several things to write about -- my wolf nature being one of them, so I’ll start there.
The more I’ve been delving into my novel again, the more my wolf side has been coming to the forefront of my psyche.
Last Wednesday I had the strongest mental shift into my wolf mindset that I’ve had in a very long time. It was almost overwhelmingly powerful, and when it occurred, I had trouble thinking straight for a long time.
It took place while I was with my kids at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science. They have two wolf exhibits there, both very realistically done. One has a mated pair of arctic wolves looking at a nearby herd of musk oxen, who are backed into a defensive position. The other has a pack of about a half dozen wolves all together looking into the distance at a herd of caribou. I kneeled next to both dioramas and let my mind flow into them, seeing the wolves and the prey and feeling as if I was there. The one with the pack affected me the strongest. I felt as if I was truly there, like I had left my human existence and become the wolf that I am at heart.
My kids were very understanding, as both of them sometimes experience similar things.
The next night, I had a dream in which I was human, but I was with a pack of thin, half-starved wolves who looked like cartoon representations. At one point I saw a hawk flying overhead and I called to it, and it came down and almost lighted on my outstretched arm, making me sure that it knew me.
A few days ago, I spent several hours before bed talking with my novel’s editor about how the last two chapters should potentially play out. We met online years ago back when the novel was just a short story, and he offered to critique it. He’s also a wolf therianthrope, and over time we fell in love and planned to get married. That never happened for a variety of reasons. For one, I’m more than 20 years older than he is (which would make me a cougar. Rowl! *grins*). Also, he’s devoutly Christian, and I’m very Pagan (although we both do shamanic work – and yes, he’s integrated Christianity and working with spirit guides, and I greatly admire him for that). Both of those could have been handled with love, however. The problem that killed the marriage plans in the end was the fact he needs to stay in Kentucky managing his parents’ business, and I won’t move away from the Denver area because of my children. He and I still love each other very dearly, however, both as humans and as wolves.
He’s my wolf mate, by the way. And I mean that in the truest sense. We’ve shared dreams in which we’re both wolves, and we discussed them the next day, having shared the same experiences. And we’ve repeatedly shared shamanic trances during the years, during which we’ve been together as wolves, and we’ve not only mated but raised several litters of cubs. The experience of giving birth to my first litter was detailed in one of the chapters of my novel, but I have the protagonist experiencing it. We had two litters during the springs since then as well. We’ve explored together as a pack, hunted together, played together, slept together and killed together. The memories of that life goes beyond human words.
Human.
*sighs*
That’s what I’ve largely been in my mind the last two years. In early 2008, I returned to SecondLife after a long absence. I soon became hooked, and it took over my mind, to the detriment of both my wolf nature and my novel writing.
But now my novel is coming alive again. And so is my wolf mindset.
I kept getting hit by hard mental shifts into lupine thought patterns during the morning after my long talk with my editor/mate. My Master noticed after awhile and asked if something was wrong, and I told him what I was experiencing, and he patted me on the head and said, “Nice doggy.”
Master understands having spirit guides. He has several, and he takes them very seriously. He also have very distinct past-life memories.
But I don’t think he really understands the idea of species dysphoria. Of the idea that my spirit isn’t fully human. And so I think he doesn’t quite know how to treat me when I bring the matter up.
I’ve been finding that confusing situations are becoming more and more troublesome for me. Places with too many lights and noises. Situations that require my human mind to handle a lot of input. Saturday night was extremely busy at the Sanctuary BDSM club, and I was a crying wreck by the time we left. This morning, Master sat me down to explain a lot of things related to computers and the daily schedule and using a note-saving device on my computer and arranging the monthly calendar and deciding the week’s menu and … I overloaded. By the end of the conversation, I could barely think straight, and I wound up bawling in his arms. Master told me to drink some tea and take some time off. He was very understanding. But then I messed up something while preparing tonight’s meal (it needed two red peppers and I had only gotten one), and I started crying because I was afraid that Master wouldn’t trust my abilities, and he had told me this morning how valuable it was that he could rely on me to get things done right. Master saw me and comforted me again, and eventually things settled down, but all in all today I wasn’t exactly the most emotionally stable person around.
The thing is, when it was all over but I was still tense, I went to my room to rest, and I realized exactly what I wanted.
To run. Fast and free. Through fields and forests.
As a wolf.
*sighs*
I have no doubt my feeling of being a wolf today was heightened by the fact that I spent hours last night reading books related to the “Werewolf: the Apocalypse” roleplaying game. The books are often written as if they’re real, and they bring out a very strong emotional response in me. In particular, I identify with a werewolf tribe known as the Red Talons, who are all wolf-born werewolves who despise the fact that humans have taken over the world. I sought out roleplaying groups to play the game several years ago. Not everybody feels comfortable with somebody playing a Red Talon and taking it seriously, like I did.
“Werewolf: the Apocalypse,” by the way, was a roleplaying game about various tribes of werewolves who were fighting against the coming destruction of the world by an insane deity bent on corrupting life through pollution and evil. It had quite a bit of shamanism alongside very strong environmental issues, and I loved it.
The thing is, I truly identify with the Red Talons. I see humanity as a disease. I loathe my human body.
The Red Talons supplement had me laughing in places and crying in others. The place where I cried was the description of a character who experienced her first change into a werewolf after a tragic event in her life. I’m crying now as I write this. Entitled “Autumn Wolf,” here’s the description: “Born in a splendid forest, you remember hunting rabbits in the woods with your brothers and sisters as a pup. You remember watching leaves fall during your first autumn and the smell of the forest change as the air grew c older. You remember the hunger as snow covered the land and howling mournfully because you thought you’d never eat again, and then the joy as spring returned and the prey emerged to feed you. But most of all, you remember the machines. They came as the leaves fell during your second autumn. You never actually saw them move, but you wandered from a copse of trees and saw what was left of the forest. It was bare as a meadow – worse, because meadows house mice and rabbits to eat. This housed nothing, just the burned stumps of trees and the bodies of any creature left in the way … and fallen leaves. And looking in horror over the shattered remains of your home, you howled in anguish. As the howl wound down, you found yourself screaming with a human throat.”
I can understand the idea of that wolf very, very deeply.
The place where I laughed might be disturbing to some people. It was the description of a particular character with a taste for human flesh, and what it was like for them to experience their first change from a wolf into a werewolf. It was only a brief laugh, I have to say, and it didn’t affect me nearly as deeply as the description of the other wolf, but it’s possibly worth mentioning: “Born on the outskirts of a city, you and your meager pack foraged for food in human garbage. You ate what and when you could, avoided the humans, and lived your life. It wasn’t much, but it was all you knew, even if something inside you yearned for more. And then one night, a pack of humans came for your pack with thunder and fire, and slew all of them except you. You ran, but then a bullet sheared one of your paws away. As the humans approached, you wished that you could have eaten that day. Another crack of thunder and bite of pain, and all thoughts of food were gone. You erupted into a whirlwind of blood and fury, and tore the humans to pieces. When your fury was spent, you remembered how hungry you were. You don’t hate humans in the same way as many Talons do. You understand that they need to be destroyed, but would prefer to corral them into herds somehow so they don’t go to waste. After all , they’ve made such a mess of the land, they should have a hand in cleaning it up, even if it’s just by donating their screams.”
Yeah. I’m a bit twisted in ways. Such is life, and me, and being a wolf in a human body.
On a final note, there was a little bit of silliness … and not so silliness … at dinner tonight.
Master was talking about cheese, and I mentioned head cheese (which is made from the residue of the boiled remains of a pig’s head), and Master said it disgusted him and he’d make me eat some if I brought it up again, and I told him I’d probably enjoy it because I’ve eaten three mice before, heads and all and … Master stopped, cocked his head and wanted to know what I was talking about.
About five years ago, when I was new to the realization that my therianthropy was real, and I was letting my wolf nature come out with full force, I’d often find myself craving to eat rodents and other small animals I’d encounter on woodland hikes. Of course I couldn’t catch them, and even if I could, I knew my human body wouldn’t be able to handle their diseases and such. So I meditated about it, and I felt Coyote encourage me to try a different approach – using “feeder” mice from a pet shop (mice bred to be used as live food for boa constrictors and other large snakes). And I did it three times. I had my own office, and I would get a mouse, let it loose in my office, then, about lunchtime I would stalk the mouse as it scurried around the room. Then, with a pounce, I would clamp my jaws around its back and neck, squeeze tight and break its body, shake it in my teeth until it was dead, and then swallow it whole. It was an incredible experience that felt so wonderfully natural and normal. I stopped only because I eventually found out that there’s a high rate of salmonella in feeder mice.
Master thought that was rather strange, of course, but the conversation moved to other things.
After dinner, however, while I was eating some leftovers in the kitchen, M’Lady asked me why I often take my food there alone instead of sitting next to her to eat, and after thinking about it I told her that I think it's my canine instincts to take my kill and eat it away from the rest of the pack. M'Lady (who knows that I believe I have a spiritual connection to wolves) responded that maybe I could take it under the dining room table for that, and I smiled and said I didn't because I was afraid I'd get the food on the rug, and Master said he could put a tarp down for that, and I asked very happily if that means he might start feeding me from a bowl on the floor, and he said he hadn't given it a lot of thought but now that he realizes how seriously I'd enjoy that, he'll consider it.
Later I asked him again about it, and he again said he’d never thought about the idea of puppy play, although he knew I was seriously into the idea of ponyplay. I’m thinking he wouldn’t be too keen to the idea because, to be honest, it doesn’t exactly fit into the idea of a Victorian household. Oh well. We’ll see.
Well, tonight’s post turned out to be primarily about one topic – my wolf nature. To be honest, I could have talked about that for a long, long time. It’s who I am, and who I have been since childhood. And who I’ll be the rest of my life.
La kajira.
Showing posts with label werewolf. Show all posts
Showing posts with label werewolf. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Day 108 -- On Having Made a Six-Figure Salary as a Computer Programmer Before Becoming a Slave, On Writing the Final Chapters of My Werewolf Novel, and On Having Fun with My Former Mistress
Mmmm ….
It’s been a heck of a few days. So many things on my mind at the moment.
I didn’t mention in my last post, but I had a fantastic time with Mistress last Tuesday. I went over and packed up my car with the last of my stuff from her place, and then I cleaned up a bit. And then we fucked like girly bunnies and I came really hard, and so did she, and we cuddled and kissed and … mmmm … And then, for her birthday, I made catfish jambalaya and honey-basil salmon steaks, and I have to say the salmon came out PERFECT in a very heavenly way, and she agreed very nicely. It was a wonderful day, and it reminded me of just how much I miss her and still love her.
Then after I came home that night, I finished up with the first draft of another chapter in my novel, and soon afterward I got all of the previous chapters together in one spot. I’ve only got two chapters and an epilogue left, and I want to make sure it’s done right. So, with that in mind, I’m going to read through all of the 112,000 words I’ve written in all the chapters so far, fix all the little things I’ve taken notes for but never done, and, with all I’ve written in my head, pounce on the last bit of the novel.
“Err … what novel?” you’re probably asking. Okay, I guess I’ve never mentioned it, but I’ve been working on a novel for about three and a half years. I was hot and heavy into it for almost two years, then I entered into my year of hell (in which I was clinically depressed) and lost myself into SecondLife for awhile. Finally, about a month ago, I picked it up again, and to my shock and happy surprise, I’m writing just as fluidly as ever. Everything I had planned with the characters is coming back, and it looks like I’ll be done with the first draft in less than three months.
The novel is about a female wolf-born werewolf who is volunteers for a suicide mission to interact with the local vampires and … what I’m hoping sets it apart is that the main character is by nature a wolf, not a human, and so the perspective and satire on society is quite different than other female-werewolf novels. Of which there are a ton. There weren’t that many when I started writing it, but my delay due to my depression caused me to miss the crest of the wave.
Actually, if I had finished the novel late last year (when I had planned), it still might not be published. First I’d have to find an agent (which could take months or more than a year), then the agent would have to find a publisher (which could take months or more than a year), and with all that I might never be published.
I told Master about it, and he said he’ll guarantee I’ll get published. On Kindle. Master said it’s the way to self-publish in style these days. What I would do is, after the novel is edited to its final draft and ready to go, I upload it to Amazon.com for sale to readers of their Kindle e-book device. I’ll set the price relatively low (probably $2.99 or even $1.99) to get impulse buyers, and with any luck I’ll get a decent amount of cash back. I’m not expecting six figures, but twenty grand would be rather swell.
The market’s still good for female werewolf novels, and I do know how to write, as I was a journalist for a decade. And the book is written in journalistic style, and I do have a wolf spirit, and …
Well, I’ve got my dewclaws crossed it won’t flop.
I’ve got a sequel lined up as well, in case I get an audience.
And I’ve got a third book ready to go, completely outlined and set to write. It’s inspired by what happened to me during the year I was lost in SecondLIfe. I’m determined to make all the time I wasted in there … not be wasted, but instead become useful for my writing career.
Anyway, more on the novel as it progresses.
Speaking of making six figures … well … I used to, by the way.
Yep. A year and a half ago, I was pulling in more than $100,000 a year.
Now I’m a slave, making only room and board and whatever else my Master generously provides for me. Master has set it up that each month he’ll pay for my health insurance, the child support I’m paying my ex, and about $150 allowance for me to save toward unexpected expenses (such as taking my kids to the zoo). Yes, I did say “child support”. Yeah, I was the breadwinner of the family at one point in my life. Did I mention I had been making six figures?
In case anybody’s wondering, the way I was making so much money is that I had somehow lucked into a high-level software programming position for a major company.
And the reason I don’t have it any more is because of two things – the recession, and the fact that, to be honest, I was never a programmer at heart.
Years ago I got into computer science because I wanted to do computer animation, and I didn’t realize that the jobs in that field went to people with art degrees. I hated being a programmer, and I failed at it miserably, and eventually I left it and got a second degree doing what I loved – writing. I became a professional journalist for a decade, and it was a wonderful, stressful, incredible (and quite low-salary) time in my life.
Then children entered our life, and suddenly having a low-paying job I loved didn’t cut it anymore.
My ex didn’t have a marketable degree, and I thought my old computer science certification was useless. But then the tech boom happened, and companies were hiring techies left and right, male and female, it didn’t matter. And so I went to work while my ex stayed home with the kids.
I went from job to job over the next eight years, eventually winding up in a position making more than $100K.
My ex and I were spoiled, thinking it would last forever. So although we paid off all our bills, and we had the brains to pay off our mortgage, we didn’t save much of anything.
But that was then, and this is now. My ex is surviving on Medicare, food stamps, credit cards and the child support I send.
And I’m a slave.
Life is weird, y’know?
On that note, I’m behind in my postings for various reasons, so even though I have more to write about, I’m going to go ahead and get this out for now.
As always, la kajira!
p.s. In a post on the "Slave Registry" message board, somebody asked what everybody's daily chore routines were. I put my my list there, and I'm putting it here as well, in case anybody's curious regarding what my daily life's like workwise. This list, by the way, was reviewed and formally approved by my Master:
Rotating schedule:
• Clean M’Lady’s bathroom top to bottom
• Clean Master’s bathroom top to bottom
• Clean entry and basement bathroom top to bottom
• Clean mudroom counters, shelves, washer and drier and floor
• Vacuum main-floor rugs
• Vacuum upstairs rugs
• Vacuum and mop kitchen floor
• Wipe kitchen counters, cabinets and refrigerator surfaces
• Vacuum and mop main-floor wood floor
• Clean light switches, door knobs and other commonly handled areas around the house
• Wipe office chairs, desks and other often used surfaces
• Look for area where dust has built up and clean thoroughly
• Dust areas of house not often touched (such as glass cabinets)
• Inspect garage and porch, then clean if needed
• At end of cycle, inspect house thoroughly to see if anything was missed
Daily:
• Make Master’s bed
• Discuss evening meal with Master if needed, then prepare, shopping if necessary
• Pick up mail at external dropoff
• Get mail from outside
• Tidy my room
• Empty trash and recycling around the house if full
• Check laundry and do if needed
• Check bathrooms to see if they are out of toilet paper and paper towels
• Check around house and clean up where any dirt or spilled liquids found
• Ensure house is locked up at night
• Microwave sponges on plate for 30 seconds
• Check if dishes need to be done. If so, also wash sponges in dishwasher.
• Check personal e-mail and Fetlife and respond as necessary
Weekly:
• Sunday night: Put out trash (and recycling every other week)
• Wash M’Lady’s bed sheets
• Wash Master’s bed sheets
• File receipts
• Check BDSM community calendar for upcoming events
When time allows:
• Study massage
• Study Perl to assist Master in the future
• Study recipe books to assist Master in the future
It’s been a heck of a few days. So many things on my mind at the moment.
I didn’t mention in my last post, but I had a fantastic time with Mistress last Tuesday. I went over and packed up my car with the last of my stuff from her place, and then I cleaned up a bit. And then we fucked like girly bunnies and I came really hard, and so did she, and we cuddled and kissed and … mmmm … And then, for her birthday, I made catfish jambalaya and honey-basil salmon steaks, and I have to say the salmon came out PERFECT in a very heavenly way, and she agreed very nicely. It was a wonderful day, and it reminded me of just how much I miss her and still love her.
Then after I came home that night, I finished up with the first draft of another chapter in my novel, and soon afterward I got all of the previous chapters together in one spot. I’ve only got two chapters and an epilogue left, and I want to make sure it’s done right. So, with that in mind, I’m going to read through all of the 112,000 words I’ve written in all the chapters so far, fix all the little things I’ve taken notes for but never done, and, with all I’ve written in my head, pounce on the last bit of the novel.
“Err … what novel?” you’re probably asking. Okay, I guess I’ve never mentioned it, but I’ve been working on a novel for about three and a half years. I was hot and heavy into it for almost two years, then I entered into my year of hell (in which I was clinically depressed) and lost myself into SecondLife for awhile. Finally, about a month ago, I picked it up again, and to my shock and happy surprise, I’m writing just as fluidly as ever. Everything I had planned with the characters is coming back, and it looks like I’ll be done with the first draft in less than three months.
The novel is about a female wolf-born werewolf who is volunteers for a suicide mission to interact with the local vampires and … what I’m hoping sets it apart is that the main character is by nature a wolf, not a human, and so the perspective and satire on society is quite different than other female-werewolf novels. Of which there are a ton. There weren’t that many when I started writing it, but my delay due to my depression caused me to miss the crest of the wave.
Actually, if I had finished the novel late last year (when I had planned), it still might not be published. First I’d have to find an agent (which could take months or more than a year), then the agent would have to find a publisher (which could take months or more than a year), and with all that I might never be published.
I told Master about it, and he said he’ll guarantee I’ll get published. On Kindle. Master said it’s the way to self-publish in style these days. What I would do is, after the novel is edited to its final draft and ready to go, I upload it to Amazon.com for sale to readers of their Kindle e-book device. I’ll set the price relatively low (probably $2.99 or even $1.99) to get impulse buyers, and with any luck I’ll get a decent amount of cash back. I’m not expecting six figures, but twenty grand would be rather swell.
The market’s still good for female werewolf novels, and I do know how to write, as I was a journalist for a decade. And the book is written in journalistic style, and I do have a wolf spirit, and …
Well, I’ve got my dewclaws crossed it won’t flop.
I’ve got a sequel lined up as well, in case I get an audience.
And I’ve got a third book ready to go, completely outlined and set to write. It’s inspired by what happened to me during the year I was lost in SecondLIfe. I’m determined to make all the time I wasted in there … not be wasted, but instead become useful for my writing career.
Anyway, more on the novel as it progresses.
Speaking of making six figures … well … I used to, by the way.
Yep. A year and a half ago, I was pulling in more than $100,000 a year.
Now I’m a slave, making only room and board and whatever else my Master generously provides for me. Master has set it up that each month he’ll pay for my health insurance, the child support I’m paying my ex, and about $150 allowance for me to save toward unexpected expenses (such as taking my kids to the zoo). Yes, I did say “child support”. Yeah, I was the breadwinner of the family at one point in my life. Did I mention I had been making six figures?
In case anybody’s wondering, the way I was making so much money is that I had somehow lucked into a high-level software programming position for a major company.
And the reason I don’t have it any more is because of two things – the recession, and the fact that, to be honest, I was never a programmer at heart.
Years ago I got into computer science because I wanted to do computer animation, and I didn’t realize that the jobs in that field went to people with art degrees. I hated being a programmer, and I failed at it miserably, and eventually I left it and got a second degree doing what I loved – writing. I became a professional journalist for a decade, and it was a wonderful, stressful, incredible (and quite low-salary) time in my life.
Then children entered our life, and suddenly having a low-paying job I loved didn’t cut it anymore.
My ex didn’t have a marketable degree, and I thought my old computer science certification was useless. But then the tech boom happened, and companies were hiring techies left and right, male and female, it didn’t matter. And so I went to work while my ex stayed home with the kids.
I went from job to job over the next eight years, eventually winding up in a position making more than $100K.
My ex and I were spoiled, thinking it would last forever. So although we paid off all our bills, and we had the brains to pay off our mortgage, we didn’t save much of anything.
But that was then, and this is now. My ex is surviving on Medicare, food stamps, credit cards and the child support I send.
And I’m a slave.
Life is weird, y’know?
On that note, I’m behind in my postings for various reasons, so even though I have more to write about, I’m going to go ahead and get this out for now.
As always, la kajira!
p.s. In a post on the "Slave Registry" message board, somebody asked what everybody's daily chore routines were. I put my my list there, and I'm putting it here as well, in case anybody's curious regarding what my daily life's like workwise. This list, by the way, was reviewed and formally approved by my Master:
Rotating schedule:
• Clean M’Lady’s bathroom top to bottom
• Clean Master’s bathroom top to bottom
• Clean entry and basement bathroom top to bottom
• Clean mudroom counters, shelves, washer and drier and floor
• Vacuum main-floor rugs
• Vacuum upstairs rugs
• Vacuum and mop kitchen floor
• Wipe kitchen counters, cabinets and refrigerator surfaces
• Vacuum and mop main-floor wood floor
• Clean light switches, door knobs and other commonly handled areas around the house
• Wipe office chairs, desks and other often used surfaces
• Look for area where dust has built up and clean thoroughly
• Dust areas of house not often touched (such as glass cabinets)
• Inspect garage and porch, then clean if needed
• At end of cycle, inspect house thoroughly to see if anything was missed
Daily:
• Make Master’s bed
• Discuss evening meal with Master if needed, then prepare, shopping if necessary
• Pick up mail at external dropoff
• Get mail from outside
• Tidy my room
• Empty trash and recycling around the house if full
• Check laundry and do if needed
• Check bathrooms to see if they are out of toilet paper and paper towels
• Check around house and clean up where any dirt or spilled liquids found
• Ensure house is locked up at night
• Microwave sponges on plate for 30 seconds
• Check if dishes need to be done. If so, also wash sponges in dishwasher.
• Check personal e-mail and Fetlife and respond as necessary
Weekly:
• Sunday night: Put out trash (and recycling every other week)
• Wash M’Lady’s bed sheets
• Wash Master’s bed sheets
• File receipts
• Check BDSM community calendar for upcoming events
When time allows:
• Study massage
• Study Perl to assist Master in the future
• Study recipe books to assist Master in the future
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