The Travelers and the Oyster

This is modified from Aesop’s Fables, Barners & Noble Signature Edition. 

Two travelers were walking along the shore at low tide when they saw an oyster lying there. They both reached for it at the same time, the first pushed away the other, and the two raised their staves and began to fight. An old man came along and asked why they were fighting, and when they told him, all three decided that he would listen to their arguments and act as judge.

While each traveler was arguing their case, the old man slowly picked up the oyster and opened it with his knife. When the travelers were finished, the old man solemnly took out and ate the oyster meat. He then handed each traveler a shell. “This judge,” he began, “Awards you each a shell. The oyster will cover the court fee.


Never Again is Now

Speaking as a Jew, one that spent his childhood growing up around Holocaust survivors, one that has seen many a serial number tattooed on a forearm, one that currently lives in a county with one of the highest jewish population per capita in the world: NEVER TRUST A LAW THAT DEFINES US AS AN “OTHER”


I saw mommy what?

I’ve been thinking about “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.”  What exactly would Daddy have done if he saw that? It’s an old song, so would he have gone all toxic and tried to punch Santa? Santa would have kicked his ass. The North Pole is a harsh place, and it breeds harsh folk. Santa probably fights polar bears for exercise (gotta work off those cookies)

Or would Daddy have laughed the whole thing off? Maybe Santa is on the exceptions list, like Keanu Reeves.

Or would Daddy have joined in? I mean, it’s Santa! Who can resist? He has the charisma of Frank N Furter, plus toys! Merry Christmas indeed.

I obviously have too much time to think about stuff.

doge in space card redux


The Cog

Yesterday one of my bosses called me her most efficient worker (in regards to getting reports in on time). At first I beamed. I love praise, and my job is about helping others, so it feels good to know that I’m making a difference in lives.

But today I just feel like the smoothest cog. Yes, it’s a great cause I believe in, but it’s still a business and I’m on the low end.

On the bright side, I got to share Chicken Attack with someone. And also you 😉

New Thing

So I’m going to try something new. I haven’t been blogging. I don’t understand why. I have theories, lack of computer use seems to be the top one. But I need to write. I miss it like a dog in my lap or a lover’s snarky comeback.

I’m going to write everyday on my phone. I’ll keep it going all day and then post at night. We’ll see where this shitstorm of random thought takes us.

Who knows, maybe it’ll get me back on the computer.
Work is a big issue. I don’t know how to set boundaries because I care about my individuals (I job coach for people that need special support). I answer their texts constantly and help them with stuff that is outside of my range. And I don’t get paid for the extra stuff. But how can I say no? They don’t understand boundaries, but they understand rejection.

I’m exhausted. Maybe it’s work. Maybe it’s age. Maybe I’m born with it (it’s not Maybelline)

So that’s it for today. Hopefully I’ll be back tomorrow.  I love you.


Maribell of the Needles: A Watchmage Story

I decided to rewrite “Maribell of the Needles,” this time with two endings.


I’m working on a bunch of fairy tales and short stories that take place in the world of The Watchmage Chronicles. I’ll release them in an anthology after the 3rd Watchmage novel comes out (since some of the stories take place after that book). Here’s a variation of the White Lady myth called “Maribell of the Needles.”

I decided to have two endings: A sad one and a happy one. Let me know which one you like better in the comments section.

Watchmage black

Maribell of the Needles

By C.A. Sanders

Once upon a time, though it happens every day, there lived a young seamstress named Maribell. Still apprenticed, she was at that tender age between the pins and the needles, where love takes hold and never lets go. It was a dangerous age indeed.

On a bright Spring morning, a knight and his squire came to her village and visited…

View original post 1,865 more words

Sometimes there’s so much that you need to say that you can’t even say it. Like, it’s so overwhelmingly that to expel it will take your heart, your lungs, and organs that you can’t even pronounce. The purge will destroy you. Keeping it inside will destroy you. No matter what, it will destroy you.

I am waiting to destroy myself or be destroyed. It’s in me, waiting. I cannot purge it. It’s attached to too many VERY IMPORTANT THINGS and I’m afraid of the blood and guts that will pour out.

So I will ignore it. It will go away. Or not. Neither way is better. I just wish that it wasn’t necessary.

Cold Iron, Feverish Writer

Sooo, now that the chaos of Cold Iron’s book release is over, my body decided “hey, wouldn’t this be a super awesome happy jolly fun time to get sick?” Of course, it didn’t tell me this until I was mid-date with Katie, so she’s probably sick too.

At least my summer position in the job coaching program is over. I have 2 weeks of summer before school starts once again.

I hope that the cold doesn’t last that long. Despite being the size of a small bear, I am in poor health and many of my colds turn into bronchitis or pneumonia. Just something to be concerned with.


Oh, i should make a graphics ad for Cold Iron. This book is really freakin good, and I usually hate the things that I write 😛

guinea pig card