All the Goals

Apparently, whilst I was in my indie-publishing slumber, there’s been a development of serialized fiction…and it’s popular. What is serialized fiction? Well, instead of paying for the entire book, you pay for each “episode” or chapter, so if you like it, you keep going. If not, you don’t pay for what you don’t want to read. It kind of makes sense. I even remember having this idea a few years ago and thinking, (besides it being an *amazing* idea) that it would be a great thing to do, but there was no platform that offered this (at the time) so I didn’t think of it again.

Guess it’s time to revisit because duuude, are there a lot of platforms. And what’s worse, some of these teenybopper author wannabes are on there making dough. I only call them teenybopper author wannabes because I’ve read some of their stuff and it’s…it’s…it’s not ready. It’s where I was when I was their age, dreaming of figuring out the whole writing thing because WHEN I WAS READY, I’d submit to an agent or try to have it published or whatever. And I still have doubts that I’m not ready, but…but…at least I have some experience under my belt. I’ve written a lot of garbage to get to the less-garbagy stage. I’m not putting out things I thought were great when I was in middle school, like some of these folks are. And THEY’RE MAKING MONEY FROM IT.


I’m not jealous. I’m annoyed. Mostly at myself for being asleep this whole time and not jumping on the passive income bandwagon, because I’ve been on the lookout for that SOB for years.

Can I be honest? I’m still a little scared. I’m on my third draft of TCATC (woot!) and I still think my stuff sounds like crap. But, I’m giving myself some slack. I’ve been working on this story since early last year and it has changed drastically (4 rewrites now?) so in this time frame, I haven’t gone over this version the normal ten times like I would’ve by now. I like this story. I like it so much, but I’m still looking at with goggles from the original draft from last May. Is it good? Is it bad? I can’t tell.

I have at least one beta reader on standby (S- you know who you are) but could use a few more if anyone is interested. If not, totally fine too. I’ve published most of my books with very few eyes on them (other than the editor…obviously) and I think they turned out alright. But I know this is going to be a three-book series of contemporary romance featuring superheroes with the first due next year. Possibly the second as well, but, need to actually write that one first…

I’ve got all the goals. (Hopefully) make some passive income on these serialized fiction apps while focusing on releasing one or *possibly* two books next year. And keeping my confidence through the whole thing. That’s a big one.

Hope everyone has a happy, delicious, and safe week. I wish that for you every week, but especially this one as well. Try not to overload on the turkey or mash potatoes. But if you do, you’ll be the first one asleep and you’ll get out of helping with the dishes.


~ Lady Caitlin

It Did Not Go Well

So, Batman and I went out to a fancy, expensive dinner to celebrate our one-year anniversary. It did not go well.

I’m normally a pretty chill person. I don’t like confrontation, and I don’t like to cause a scene, which is probably why I didn’t respond the way I should’ve when the shift manager came to our table (after being requested) for the second time…since the entire restaurant seemed to have forgotten that we existed.

First, we were sat at the bitch table. You know which one I’m talking about—the “last minute/forgotten/need to squeeze them in” table, even though a reservation was made a week in advance. It was along the wall (where a table shouldn’t be) sandwiched between two larger tables, already making me feel like we weren’t as important. But fine, a table is a table. As long as I’m getting served the same delicious food as everyone else—it’s all good. Except, it wasn’t.

After our (initial?) server came to our table to welcome us, I thought everything would be fine. I explained we were there on our first anniversary, having come a year before on our honeymoon, and she advised we’d be getting a free dessert since we were celebrating something. Very nice. Still very excited. And then she floated away like a petal in the breeze never to be seen from again.


Some guy in Glasses asked if we’d like any drinks (never introduced himself). I ordered one glass of red wine, and Batman ordered himself a drink. Glasses left, and we went to the cold salad bar to get some sides and—my personal favorite—the candied bacon station. When we got back to our bitch table, my glass of wine was waiting for me, and we started to eat. Still all good.

Then the clock started ticking. Where was Batman’s drink? And the free little cheese breads? They were good and we were running low, so I wanted more. (This is a fancy place, so if I’m okay asking for more bread at LongHorn, I don’t mind asking for more bread there either. We’re paying for it). Except…there was no one to ask. No one to follow up on Batman’s drink order. No one ever came to our table.

We waited. And waited and waited to the point where we’d finished our sides and already had some of the delicious meat (it’s a Brazilian Steakhouse so people with meat walk around cutting off slices of its amazingness). Like, the meal was more than halfway done and Batman STILL hadn’t gotten his drink while I was working my way toward a second glass of wine. At this point, I decided to flag down the water girl.

After asking if she could send someone to our table, Glasses showed up ANNOYED that we were bothering him since he was clearly working the giant ten-top table behind us. He made me feel like I shouldn’t have bothered him for asking for my second glass of wine and finding out where Batman’s drink was. He disappeared and we NEVER SAW HIM AGAIN.

We waited. And waited and waited to the point where I flagged down the Shift manager (first time) to check on our drinks. I was also wondering where our sides were since our meal included sides (not the cold salad bar) and I completely forgot to ask because by this point, I was extremely disappointed. After cheering myself up with some more candied bacon, I came back to our table and the shift manager brought me my second glass of wine and Batman’s drink. Still no sides.

The giant ten-top table behind us got up, and a team of four employees cleaned the table, reset it, and then sat another table of ten (a bachelor party), Glasses got their drink orders and within that time, NO ONE CAME TO CHECK ON US.

We’d planned on getting dessert (in addition to the complimentary one) and Batman was going to get a second drink. Nope. Not anymore. We wanted to leave. Glasses walked past us like a million times, other parties of two were checked on, some in t-shirts and jeans (Batman and I were dressed up) but no one bothered to come to our table to see how we were doing, if we wanted another drink, dessert, a check, anything.

So, we sat again. Waiting. Batman said we should just leave. Just get up and walk out on the bill because it’s not like they knew were we there anyway. They’d clearly disregarded us, even after telling them we were there for a special occasion. So, after STILL WAITING for ANYONE to come to our table, I ended up flagging down another water girl. Asked to send over the shift manager for the second time—we were ready to leave.

I could’ve gotten ugly. Maybe I should’ve? But when he came over, I told him what happened, how NO ONE ever came to our table and how disappointed we were since we were there celebrating an occasion. He reminded us of our free dessert which we declined because, would we even get it? I said we wanted the check and wanted to go. We didn’t want to spend any more time there. Again, I probably could’ve gotten a little more aggressive with how poorly we were treated but at that point, we just wanted to leave the damn restaurant.

To make up for their poor service, the shift manager comped our meal TEN DOLLARS – the free dessert we would’ve gotten regardless. Oh, and 20% off our next visit. Yeah, like we’ll be returning.

I think about it and I literally don’t have words. I’m truly appalled at our experience, which is sad since it was our first anniversary. We just wanted one night where we could brush off the Poor, but thanks FDC – you made sure that wasn’t the case.

Guess we have to be fancy like Applebee’s going forward. At least they’ll check on us.

~Lady Caitlin


There’s a line in Dave Chappelle’s newest special about poor white people shopping at Walmart and I can’t get it out of my head. Not because it’s mean, but because it’s true. It’s unabashedly, unapologetically a true statement. A FACT. I am joined by other poor white people shopping for our cheap, mediocre goods and wares, and yes, if Dave Chapelle ever ended up in a Walmart, his dreams did not work out at planned.

It probably still sounds mean, but I can take a joke. I know where I am in this world, and even though I don’t think of myself as poor, I do shop for mediocre goods and wares at a place where I can find them cheapest. (Side note: I am poor. But I have everything I need and want…so am I really? Existential question over here…) Since I frequent the mega chain on a regular basis, I’ve been thinking more about how much I make, how much it costs to live, and wondering when I’m going to start making some supplemental income with my books, which would be nice, but which also means I should probably up my game. Or start it. Probably should start the game to make the money to buy more mediocre goods.

But guys—I’m working on it. As I told a recent fellow author (hi, Joleene!) I feel like I’ve been asleep for the last 4-5 years because I have, like, no clue what’s going on with the indie publishing world. With my day jobs sucking out all creative and positive energy, and self-publishing being so completely overwhelming and confusing, I didn’t try. I took a nap and shut my eyes to everything, hence me selling a whopping few books each year. But I must change this! I want to buy more mediocre goods and wares at Walmart and I’ll need supplemental income to achieve this. And who knows? Maybe if my dreams really do work out as planned, I’ll end up shopping at Target with the bourgeois.


I’m almost finished with the second draft of the fourth rewrite of TCATC, and I’m already mapping out the second book. There will be three books total (I think?) so I feel like I’m already making up ground. The WIP doesn’t suck anymore, and I’m excited for what’s coming next. I’m tentatively planning to publish the first book next year, so if you’ve followed any of this journey, or are in any way curious about this story, just know I plan to release *TCATC – ARPIP in 2022. But if you simply CANNOT WAIT, let me know if you want to be a beta reader. Always looking for those. Currently working on the blurb so stay tuned…

That’s all I got for now. Go watch the special and contemplate your monetary place in life. Or don’t. It all works out regardless.

~Lady Caitlin

P.S. I may have been the one unloading items from the cart, but Batman paid the bill. He did not, however, pay for the Christmas garland I forgot to put on the belt, which makes him a thief. I might be a line-cutter but he stole a twelve dollar, mediocre good. That’s on him.

*The Coyote and the Claw – A Royal Pairing in Perish. In case you missed the post with the title. Now you and the handful of other people know. VIP status.

November Goals

Ever feel really shitty for doing something you didn’t mean to do, and you’re not even sure if you did it? Me too.

I could have SWORN there was no line when I went to my grocer’s self-check-out. We only had a few things, and I didn’t feel like waiting for the aisles with cashiers, so, I spotted an open register and flew toward it (because I have little legs and move quickly, otherwise, I get left behind.) I’m like…*fifty three* percent sure I didn’t notice anyone waiting when I started unloading and scanning. Batman grabbed us two beverages, and when I went to take them from him, I saw the line. The long line and the glares. All shooting at me. All hating me.

Did I…did I just skip a whole bunch of people?


Except, I’m not a *thousand* percent certain they were there before. There were a lot of people in the store and sometimes, magically, we all want to check out at the same time so…there is a possibility they all gathered right after me, and were sending glares of hatred over how impressively beautiful I am, and the very stylish clothes I wear. I can’t rule out these very likely options. But still…

Did I cut everyone? If so, does that make me a bad person? Or am I just an “okay” person because I’m not terribly observant when I’m hungry? Sheesh. First stealing seven dollars from a restaurant and now this. Thieving and line-cutting: that’s what I’ve become. That’s who I am. Sure, unbeknownst to me at the time, but I feel like the points are still deducted. ALTHOUGH I feel massive amounts of anxiety over these kinds of things, so maybe it evens out in the end?

I’m starting November fresh. Well, sort of fresh. It all depends on the garbage guys, who, apparently changed when they come in the morning. They used to come around eight, but God knows what time it is now since I put the trash on the curb at SEVEN, and it was still there when we got home. Awesome. But why didn’t I put it out the night before like most sane, logical people? Because Batman and I live in the murder house which is backed up right to the woods, so we get all the woodland creatures ravaging our trash. The neighbor’s cans are just *slightly* too far to mess with (we have lazy woodland creatures), so they all descend on ours, which means we can’t put it out the night before. But now the garbage guys want to get up at the ass crack of dawn and I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.

Maybe it’s my penance for stealing and line-cutting. But poor Batman. He didn’t do anything to deserve this. He only married me, but, serves him right. No take-backsies now.

Writing-wise, I’m closing in on the end of the second draft for the fourth (?) rewrite. So, that’s good. I read through the ending of the first draft (fourth rewrite) and yuck. Nope. Think I kind of gave up on it the last little bit there because it had the stink of an original draft all over it. Not good. But I’m working on it, and every time I do, it gets better. Perspective, people.

November goals: no inadvertently stealing or line-cutting, figure out when to take out the trash, and keep writing. Think I can handle it.

We’ll see.

~ Lady Caitlin