Honoring All Hollows Eve with Story

october-reading-fb-eventIt’s that time of year to snuggle into a charming cafe and be read to of those who frequent the other side…

And what do we mean by the other side? Fictional characters thrusted and entrusted to the drama by three local writers!

Randi Janelle is celebrating the first birthday of her novel The Story: Deviation. Lauren Devora is releasing her novel Children of Lilith in print. Jennifer Fulford runs a micropress Black Bomb Books with two books out in her Muskateer Series and will be sharing from her novella in progress. Check out links to their work below.

There will be a reading by each author, poetry, and a game and trivia challenge for those who are already followers of these authors. There will be books and other word-centric goodies for sale. And of course…coffee and other treats on offer from Eric and the incredible team at Allgood Coffee!


WHEN: October 29th, 2016 1:30-3:00pm

WHERE: Allgood Coffee, 10 S.Main Street, Weaverville, NC

More details and updates if you’re on Facebook here.

Randi Janelle:
Lauren Devora:
Jennifer Fulford:


My Origin Story with Zalsider

Dear Infinity,

Randi here.  I’m specifying myself, because I am now able to speak for many that are connecting with us in our now to offer guidance in this delicious time of transition.  This is the introductory post on Zalsider.

I often ask couples to tell me their origin story.  I like knowing how things began.  But with Zalsider, I feel very much like the chicken-or-the-egg situation applies.  I understand in my bone marrow that Source Energy is infinite, and that we are all manifestations of All That Is.  So it was no surprise to me that I began speaking with energies who in time revealed to be from MANY points of reference in the universe.  If we are made of the same stuff, it makes perfect sense that I can access a “distant” extension of this stuff.  But lemme get off my High Horse of Esoteric Eloquence and start at the beginning:

A beginning?  Well, I believe it to be before birth.  But perhaps for sake of clarity, probably my first indication that I was to channel for star beings came around the 4th grade.  I’ve written before about my first “novel” that sprang from Free Friday journal time.  It was about a girl and the alien that landed in her backyard.  Perhaps even at ten years old, I intuitively understood that there were aliens out there who were my homies.  Plus, my mother was born in Roswell, NM, and her extra-terrestrial roots is a long-running joke.  All kidding aside, it has always seemed both plausible and certain to me that life exists outside our wee planet.  How could God-energy be so limited?


Facebook post at the time of Mind Blowing!

Skip ahead some twenty years and I got high in Las Vegas on Halloween of 2014.  This high “blew my mind” in the sense that I could feel time dissected as infinite possibility.  The underlying sensation was that of abundance and expansion, and having influence on a mainstream scale; I compared myself to Oprah, that’s how huge it felt.  The experience inspired a blog called Wondering Mystic, as I felt very surely that I was meant to come out of the closet in a sense, and share more often with the world my spirituality and views on the nature of the universe.  In my recent confessions that I have begun channeling for extra-terrestrials, my loved ones say, “What?  Where did this come from?”  I invite them and you to peruse my thoughts a year ago as I had inuited something like Zalsider would come into being.

The other concern from those who view channeling star beings as wacko was for my mental health.  The thing is, I feel healthier than ever!  It is a wonderful thing to be at the prime of my moment!  In many of the usual markers, I am tip-top: my physical health (yoga 4 days a week and teaching it!); I’ve written and published my first book, which is a realization of a goal that harkens back to the 4th-grader Randi; and I feel firmly established in that I know who I am.  I think this latter point is important, as Zalsider is unable to sway my destiny towards something I don’t desire, and it’s important that I understand my desires and what works with me and my worldview.  I had a friend mention the Jonestown incident where hundreds of people died in following their guru, and he urged me never to “drink the Kool-Aid.”  To that, I respond that I plan to live this physical incarnation for many, many years (pushing 113, at least), and I treat all information that Zalsider offers in accordance to their motto: Hold what resonates, respect what doesn’t.  And perhaps this sounds wacko, but I respect those who followed Jim Jones in that they were living a reality vastly different to many of ours, and I try to release judgement on any existence, as I don’t believe in right and wrong.

Let’s return to the start of Zalsider’s most recent chapter: How I Began Channeling Star Beings.  It started with a pendulum, a New Zealand jade stone necklace that I named for a few days “The Great & Powerful Ponamu Pendulum.” I have rarely worked with a pendulum, but around Christmas of 2015, my friends and I were studying our astrological charts, and I wanted very badly to know my exact time of birth.  I was away from home and the convenience of looking at my birth certificate, so a friend suggested I use a pendulum, as my body knows when I came into this world.  Sure enough, the pendulum clarified to the minute and I was enthused and satisfied.

A gift from my friends in New Zealand...

A gift from my friends in New Zealand…

Closer to New Years, in a fit of boredom, I was inspired to pick up a pendulum, in this case my stone necklace and ask some more yes or no questions.  I asked for a couple hours on the typical topics of who will marry who, how many kids will they have, how much money I’ll make this year (very MASHy–the game I played as a girl that determined these things along with the type of housing we would end up in Mansion, Apartment, Shack, or House).  I was hooked and over the course of the next four days, I hung out with my Powerful Ponamu Pendulum, until one day I asked if my intuitive guides had a name.  Yes.  They spelled it out. Z-A-L-S-I-D-E-R.  At this point, I was also beginning to get information before the stone could swing, as the questions and answers came exponentially quick.

Over the past six weeks, Zalsider and I have “talked” nearly every morning, journaling, and I’ve spoken as them to trusted friends.  Most of the information thus far as been in assisting me to Trust & Enjoy, as it is imperative that I subscribe to the process in order for me to be the clearest channel I can.  Just before writing this post, Zalsider assured me that I will look back on these early days and think how “amateur” I was at channeling, but as they said, “such is the nature of evolution. How do we know progress if there is no beginning marker?”

Zalsider’s origins along with my own are in a time and space where we agreed to share knowledge of the cosmos with those who are aligning with it.  I believe we made a contract before I was born, in which I agreed to co-create with them; and I don’t believe it was a signing with blood, but with spirit.  Zalsider is from many walks of life, out there where energy is defined from Source, but their cohesive message and collective cooperation in sending a single stream of communication reminds me that the diversity of people, culture, and belief systems can share on this Earth as we evolve; and that our individual realities can be respected, if not resonated with one’s own spirit.  Zalsider and I hope to share in what makes us universality similar, from the mustard seed to the Magellanic Clouds.

I am so super-elated that another dream is realized.  I hope this and more for you!

With Some Serious Love,




Meet the Characters: Rochelle

Rochelle Haunting SigmaRemember Dan’s speed dating interview?  Well this is:

Rochelle Martinez, 29. Journalist.

ROCHELLE: I don’t mean to be rude, but I am not interested in a relationship.  My friend Toby set this up, I’m sure.


CREATOR: Okay.  Is that why you’re on a Chastity Challenge?


ROCHELLE: Did he tell you that?  (Looking around) Mierda, Tobias Tyrrell…


CREATOR: Can you explain the Chastity Challenge, please?


ROCHELLE: (Sighs) It’s a personal pact to stay celibate for a year.  I’ve got too much to do to focus on men right now.


CREATOR: How’s that going?


ROCHELLE: Well, thank you.


CREATOR: You miss your family?


ROCHELLE: (Leaning forward) Do you mind if I see that note card?  What all is on there?


CREATOR: Just that you lost your family in Hurricane Katrina.  You’re from New Orleans?


ROCHELLE: Yes.  My parents and grandmother drowned in the flood.  I was living in Georgetown and finishing my masters at the time…


CREATOR: You keep rubbing your temples.  Are you feeling okay?

ROCHELLE: Actually, I have a terrible headache.

CREATOR: I’m sorry to hear that.  You haven’t been sleeping very well?


ROCHELLE: No.  Did he really put that on the card?  (Crossing arms)  I’ve been having intense dreams.  About a slave girl on a plantation in Louisiana, outside New Orleans somewhere.  She’s…it’s as if she’s haunting me…


CREATOR: Have you been haunted by dreams like this before?


ROCHELLE: Huh, I knew I shouldn’t have shared this with Toby.  Yes, yes, I have.  I call them “Medium Migraines.”  It used to happen to me as a teenager, back in New Orleans.  It’s hard to describe, but it’s as if some spirit is trying to get my attention through my dreams.  But now I’m living in D.C. and I have no idea how this girl might be connected to present day…


CREATOR:  Did you have help before?


ROCHELLE:  My grandmother, Mémère. She and the Voodoo priests helped before.  But like I said, she died…


CREATOR: So you have some connections with voodoo?


ROCHELLEMémère raised me in the Voodoo tradition.  Sometimes it paired well with the biblical stories and saints from my Catholic father, who immigrated from Mexico.  My brothers and I, we all grew up in a small shotgun house on Flood Street in the Ninth Ward.  But it’s different here in D.C.  I think most would find me insane if they heard about what went down with me as a teenager.  Anyway, I fear I’ve got to figure out how these dreams are related to… to a potentially distressing situation happening now.  If these are like previous Medium Migraines, someone could be in danger. 

CREATOR: Sounds heavy.  Maybe a group of high school students trapped on a school bus?


CREATOR: Nevermind.  You’re dreaming of slaves.  Does it make you think about how you might be enslaved?

ROCHELLE: Me?  (Laughs)  I enjoy considerable freedoms compared to this slave girl, named Kehinde.  If anything positive is coming rom this, it’s that I feel fortunate to be living in this time.  My Creole ancestors could’ve very well been slaves, and if that’s true, I suppose I owe a lot to them and their will to survive.


CREATOR: Could it be that you’re enslaved by your grief over the death of your family?


ROCHELLE: What?  Okay, I insist you show me this card.  Now, please.



(Thanks for playing! 😉

*Fine Print: I have interviewed these characters in random space-time dimensions that even I can’t quite figure out.  Some are being interviewed after the onset of The Story: The Beginning’ s plot, and some before.  Who is when?  You’ll have to read the book to find out…;)

Some Fun Things!

Ever wish you could read the journal of a writer? Now you can! (Warning–LONG!  Those writers can just be soooo wordy sometimes, eh?)


The only image outside my imagination that quite captures the magic of this tale is a CD I made from an image I did circa early 2000s to win Bele Chere’s sidewalk chalk drawing contest. The fact that this artifact still exists is magic in and of itself!

I believe in magic.

I recently finished a Terry Goodkind novel.  In it, his characters argue–the magical woman from the parallel world tries to convince the rational man from this one: it’s like technology…can you tell me how your phone works to the inth detail?  No, you can’t.  But you trust it.  (Paraphrasing).

I found the multiple chapters of “is magic really real” to be a little tedious and unnecessary.  But I’ve believed in magic for a long time now.  Magic is creation.  The wah…and wonder of manifestation.

I’ve been retracing my journey in preparation for a prologue–or a foreword, authors note, a hey-checkity-how-cool! note–something to artistically render The Story’s inception.  Of course, the idea denotes time; the more I study dreams and feel the magic of my existence, the more I dismiss time as anything more than a human-and-earth agreed upon construct. But I get ahead of myself, so…

Some fun things:

Last Tuesday I went to Terra Nova.  What’s that?  It’s a place with faeries.  You can heh? or har!, be annoyed or enthused by my total appreciation for the hippy-dippity, but it’s true.  If other personal accounts of this place float your booties, check out this one (make sure to click on the right for the next “part.”)

I found  the journal entry I wrote after waking from the dream that inspired The Story, and I was giggletastically-tickled to learn that the dream had come to me the night after I went to see the faeries six years ago:

Terra Nova is a gorgeous little haven.  It is a manifestation of trust and harmony.  We didn’t pay any money, and we had access to bathrooms, to a sloping lawn ending at a lake, several gardens, and all the water toys we could want.  There was no supervision, and except for some ground rules which they trusted us to follow, we did what we wanted.  And that was to paddle around the lake, to talk in a circle of lawn chairs as the sun set, and a freaking adorable grown puppy came to visit.  We talked about walking the labyrinth, of seeing the Peace Tower, and then we felt the energy of a vortex in the Friendship garden.  My hands tingled.  We prepared for the Angel garden just as the colors were fading to black, and we each said a little prayer before walking through the entrance.  And then we sat.  I chose a mosaicked bench with a faery on it, just discernable in the faded light.

And then they came.  It was another suspension of time.  How long did we really sit there? How long was so long between lights?  I thought that this was such an incredible lesson in patience–to be sitting there, completely quiet, and watching the darkness for a creature to appear (that I was sure was humoring us with its pure benevolence).  I saw several faeries, and yes, I do believe they were faeries.  I was almost stunned when the first one appeared.  Yes!  I did see it!  We all saw it.  Easy as pie.  Of course, I was a raging current of energy, feeling such excitement, and sending out torrents of love to the creatures…  We all saw them.  We all shared this experience of something magical, something other-worldly, a conglomeration of new friends and spirits.

And there was the sound of wings, strong at first, like a dragonfly was chilling out in the bushes beside me.  And the sound of frogs and the waterfall behind me.  And the full moon!  Ah, it was round and vintage yellow when we saw it between the trees for the first time.  And as we walked to our cars, talking about the wonder and impossibility of what we saw, we noticed the light, blinking above a horizontal tree limb that suggested the exit to the world we just witnessed.  First it was red, and started slowly, and a friend said she saw two of them. Then it was the bright blue light, hovering just above the limb.  Ah…it was pure magic.

Magic of getting to know our new friend more, without feeling awkward.  Why?  Why should I ever feel awkward?  I was a bit nervous that she would think we were cooks.  But no, of course not.  She was speaking to the faeries as well, discounting the notion that they could be some kind of bug.  Why that one spot?  Why only between Mother’s and Father’s day?  Why do they seem larger, a vertical spill of light, and then so small and muted when they get closer?  And why the erratic blinking, sometimes a regular pattern, sometimes stronger? …It was bliss.

Last Tuesday, I sat looking for faeries again, welling with pure contentment from spending my days writing, creating—completely gob-smack in love with my job.   And now to learn things have come full circle!

Here’s part of that same journal entry after having the dream that inspired it all:

Holy shit.  This is an indescribable feeling.  But I’ll attempt it anyway.  It’s 5:56a.m.  I’ve been up for an hour and a half, and yet, that seems impossible.  Has it really been that long?  Have I been trapped in this world for that long, and still I feel the effects?  I got up, didn’t think twice and went to tell Momma that I had a dream.  And that I need to write it down, pronto.  That this isn’t one of the scenarios where I dream something, and in the dreamscape, I’m certain that it will be THE BEST story.  This time it really was.  I could see it instantly as a movie, as a pop-culture horror hit.*  And as I sat at my sweet Lola** and wrote, I started to wonder, is this how my mega-millions*** are coming?  Maybe.  Regardless, I feel that the Universe**** has given me a gift.  Several.  Always, she is giving.

Author’s Commentary (AC): *I wouldn’t characterize the current books as horror. The dream must’ve been more frightening.

**Lola is the name of my old Dell computer that is finally enjoying retirement under my bed.

***I was also very focused on making big bucks back then.  I laugh at that now.  Why was I so focused on money?  Better to be focused on doing what makes me happy.

****I say Universe.  Maybe you say God or Allah or Olofi or Science or Hard Work or Unicorns.  It’s all peaches and cream with me.

I continue my perusal down memory-magic lane.  I had left The Story as simple-dream-status described in my morning pages for five months, and then I started to put ink to notebook, keystroke to digi-characters, during November, a.k.a National Novel Writing Month.  The challenge is to write 50,000 words in thirty days.  That means writing 1667 words a day to be safe.  I had been working on my first novel on and off for roughly six years.  I am delighted by my optimism that this story would be done and published lickity split!

Here are some enthusiastic journal excerpts from that time:

Okay!  1667 words!  Here we go!

Yes!  This feels like the day.  My organized tendencies have finally won the battle over my spontaneous self and I want to start a routine for this month.  More so than I have been doing.  I’m writing morning pages, and then I will hop in the shower.  Breakfast might just be spent at Lolacita, as I have plenty to do on her.  I feel ready and willing to work all day and to make some big checks off my list.  I’m gonna add that laundry to Mom’s pile.  I’m going to add yet another pile on the floor to a better spot so that I can start vacuuming in here and make it feel more lived in.  I’m going to dive right into the novel and start…

I wrote close to 1600 words yesterday, just planning.  I thought I had a good enough idea of the STORY just to start writing, but I’m glad I took the time to plan and do a bit of research.  Now there’s more to it; there are more connections and I’m very excited.  I feel very confident to start.  Shit!  I’m writing another novel!  Woooo! … I love that when people ask me about this new novel, I can safely say that they can read it themselves in a few months.  I’m thinking I’ll use the time into January to clean it up, and then I’ll take advantage of the free printing.*  I like that this project has such an early expiration date.  Instant gratification.

AC: *NaNoWriMo was doing a deal with CreateSpace where you could print one copy of your book for free.

…I was dreaming that the right side of my neck really hurt…REALLY hurt, and now I can’t tell if it really does hurt or if the pain in the dream was so intense that I’m feeling it from that.  Hmmm.  Crazy though how real things are in dreams.  Dreams, imagination, “real life”–they are all essentially the same.  Reality comes in all shapes and sizes.  One day soon my characters will be having these conversations.  I swear, I’m only going to do one thing to my website today, then shift gears and let this creativity run through the STORY.

Yes!  Today is the day!  Today is the day that I start my second novel.  Wooo! 

Day 7 woooo!  Funny, I was so pumped about writing more than 5000 words, but I’m still another 5000 behind!  Haha.  Still, if I can have another day like I had yesterday, I will be quite fine.  And yesterday I spent a lot of time researching, possibly more than writing.  I can get so lost in it.

So what’s the plan?  WRITE!  And then what else?  Write some more!

…I had dedicated the night to writing.  I passed 10,000 words, which means that I’m still around 3000 behind for the quota for today, but hey, I’m patting myself on the back for catching up so quickly.  It’s interesting, this whole Nanowrimo thing.  It is very good practice for writing drafts quickly, and not worrying about the quality of the words.  Yet, mine is good, surprisingly good.  I’m always amazed at how a story just comes.  I might have a general idea for where the scene might go, and the characters fill in the rest of the details.  It’s magic, I tell you.

So TODAY is the half way point.  Well, then I’m a couple days ahead.  But that’s not going to stop me from writing.  I took a day off yesterday; it felt like a recuperative measure, and now I feel fresh and well rested and ready to get some words down on this fine Sunday.  The sun is coming out and clearing the mist in the valley, and if it’s as warm as it was yesterday, you better believe I’ll be out on those porches soaking up some sun, maybe finishing some Sookie.*

It’s a very good time write now.**  I got a very good fortune cookie yesterday.  It read: “Happiness is enjoying what you got.  Never from what you want.”  Wow.  Well, how perfect is that?  And I was lying in bed, about to turn on visions of my book selling, and dancing in my apartment***, and in addition to that I admired the light in this room.  I love the cat perched on the end of the bed.  I am enjoying it.  Very much so.

AC: *At the time, I was reading The Southern Vampire Mysteries books, by Charlaine Harris.  Her main character is Sookie Stackhouse.  Also found in the show True Blood.

**I caught the homonym “write” when I meant “right” in my third read-through edit of this email.  I’m not correcting it.  Sometimes mistakes are perfectly destined to be.

***Like I said, I was mildly obsessed with getting a lot of money.  I had a condo/apartment picked out in Downtown Asheville where I wanted to live.  I would fantasize about dancing in it.

Now, I’m very grateful for those years crashing with my friends and my Mommy.  Condos can happen anytime.  Friends and family are forever

Wowzers Mom.  I am all about my story.  The STORY.  I woke up late, and I wanted to skip morning pages, skip yoga, but of course I went down to cuddle with Mom instead because it’s a rainy morning and I haven’t done that in a long time.  And the dogs.  God I love these animals.  I love treating them like babies and cuddling with them.

And I feel like I should sit here and write and talk about the AMAZING Regina Spektor concert, and the lovely meal at Doc Chey’s with Margaret.  And the little stop in at the French Broad Chocolate Lounge to pick up a minty chocolate brownie and say “Right on!  Write on!” to the ladies working away at Nanowrimo.

I talked to Margaret about how much I love Asheville.  And I don’t get the urges to move anymore, because I just love where I’m at.  Still, I’d like to travel, but I think it’s only fitting that she parked across from my condo.

AC: Or I might travel and live overseas for four years?

Yikes I slept a while!  I went to bed prolly around 10…that’s a solid nine hours.  I can feel it in my tight neck and the slight daze of my head.  And I dreamed a lot, and I remember them.  I started 
The Glass Eater of the Dream Books.  So far, so good.  In fact, I was sure I would write more than I did yesterday, but the book was my weapon of choice.  But I’m at 45,630, so no worries there.  It’s amazing what a couple hours sitting down and writing will give me.  Another scene.  Another chapter.  I feel like it’s going to be a busy day today, but probably not too much.

Yesterday I was going to go get Thai for an early dinner.  But they were closed, so I went to the Brew n View.  I sat in the booth next to the window, and when the very tall, big man came to take my order (Louis, is that his name?) he offered to shut the blinds.  No way, I said, I wanted to sit in the sunshine.  I read while I waited to order, then for my food, and there was a guy sitting with another guy (I’m pretty sure they were conducting a business meeting)…

I figured the one guy was attracted to me.  While his associate went to the bathroom, he came over and asked me about the book I was reading.  We chatted for a minute; his friend came back and he sat down.  But after that I was very much aware of him catching glances of me while I scarfed down my quesadilla.  I went to the bathroom and left my book on the table, imagining that he would take the opportunity to slip a note into it.  “Hey, I’m gonna be honest and say that I think you’re cute.  If you are available to meet up later, let me know.  Todd 828-867-5309.”  Haha.  I’m pretty sure his name was more hippy than Todd.  He had long hair and dark green eyes.  Not drop dead, but nice.  Anyway, no such thing happened.  And I suppose it could’ve been the other way around.  If I was with someone and noticed a guy, alone…would I have the guts to chat with him?  Ah, but that’s what I’m trying to do.  That’s what I’m doing–opening up to people.  Trying to actually acknowledge and speak to them instead of it all being in my head.  It turns out I have a big one.

…Pretty cute because Phyffer dreams that Suki wants to kill Sookie.  Oh, it is all intertwined isn’t it?  I also remember writing the word “intertwined” twice last night.  I wrote two good sex scenes.  Or sexy at least.  Yeow!  With all the cursing and sex, it’s becoming less and less of a young adult novel.  Especially with Dan and Len and Rochelle’s story being so prominent.  And Marie’s story, even though she’s 18; it’s pretty heavy seeing as she’s a whore.*  Ah, yes, this is one of those times when I’m really pumped about what I’m writing.  I can see it as one solid piece, a gleaming thing that makes all the points that I want it to make.

I am in a very good place.  I know my novel is good.  It might be cross-genre, but it’s what I like.  I like to include all peoples, all ages, all philosophies and cultures.  Okay, maybe not all, but a few.  Like I said, I see this novel as gleaming.  And soon, very soon, it will be.  By the end of December?  If I keep this  up, writing every day…easy.  Perhaps split it up, research for a couple hours, work on website for a couple more, and then write, write, write!

AC: *Marie refers to a character that exists, but her name is not Marie, and she’s not a whore anymore.  I guess it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Rabbit rabbit rabbi!*  May you hop through this month with as much gusto as you did in the previous!  I was thinking about how much I’ve accomplished in the past month…loads.  I’ve got two photographs in a show, I’ve got two photography jobs lined up, I’ve got a new website with a sweet slideshow on the homepage, I’ve gotten some nice dough from two housesitting jobs, and the biggest of all, almost a complete draft of another novel.  In 25 days!  If this feeling of exhilaration lasts, then you better believe I’ll have it nice and polished by the end of this month.  It’s not even 7a.m. and I’ve been awake to think of the wonder of my bed and my dreams and my life.  I’ve made my bed and stopped the bleeding from my chapped lip.  It’s going to be another full day babay!

I also dreamed a lot for an early morning, but I can’t remember them right now.  Perhaps because I’m too pumped to get back to my story, to finish it?  Part of me just wants to start from the beginning again, fill in all holes, but I say, no!  I will finish a draft, as I’ve got four total**, and I will finish this one.  I really think I’m nearing the end.  I can smell it.

Perhaps today?  I love that my room is in order.  No worries about that.  I could go straight to yoga, without having to vacuum or anything.  And I don’t have to worry about a dog being outside wanting in.  Just Zena and her ultra fluffiness.***  She’s exposing her belly.  Brb.

Okay, that was a nice love fest.  That’s how I feel lately, like I’m right smack dab in the middle of a love fest.  I wrote a lot yesterday, [REFERENCE TO SCENE OMITTED SO AS NOT TO BE A SPOILER!], a definite keeper.  I had a welling of emotion sit right on my chest while I was writing it.  During a rainy day with two dogs and a purring cat nearby.  I think I wrote around 8000 words yesterday. Woooo!  Can you imagine?  If I spent that long on my story, for a good amount of days per week?  Baby, I would have this draft nice and shiny polished in no time.  I think the Universe is wheeling and dealing with me.  And since I’m saying, hey, I want my condo, she is saying, hey, write your book.

Sure thing.  I can do that.

Mamacitas with Momma was great.  And then the Chocolate Lounge before and after that.  Downtown in general is magical.  I was peering into the hallway of my building, and then noticed all the condos in the building beside the Chocolate Lounge.  I’ve never seen them before, but there are several condos up there.  For a cool 1.3 million.  I don’t care, as long as there’s room to dance…;)

The dark and Indian kulfi hot chocolates were like a dream.  God I live such a good life.  And here I am, back at home; it’s just now 7:07 in the morning and I am back to being regular!  Wooo baby!  I got too much momentum to sit here another moment.  This fire engine’s ready to blow!****

AC: *My childhood best friend told me that if I say “rabbit rabbit rabbit” before speaking when you wake up in the first day of the year, you’ll have good luck.  I took the liberty to bring myself magic more frequently.

**I think my reference to four drafts is from my first novel.  The Story has now gone through so many, I’ve lost count.  I’ve disregarded my original advice and have gone back so many times to fill in holes that I’ve created more holes and filled them…holes, fill, holes, fill…(Woowee, is it becoming clear how amazing it will be to have The Story finished and in your hands come October??)

***Zena is a cat.  In case you were wondering.

****Yes, yes, I was referring to an impending bowel movement.  And metaphor for the magic of my life, of course.

Last Tuesday, I did see faeries.  Before the first one appeared, I had a vision.  The Faery Queen solidified from the black trees in swaths of silver.  Long hair, long gown–ya know, typical Faery Queen stuff.  She came over and pet me (just as I have and always will cuddle dogs and cats and Mommy) and she lit the bright blue orb in my center.  Then a message from the Faery Queen: You don’t have to come out here and look for magic.  You have it in yourself.

Of course, she’s right.  The Story is magic.  I feel it everyday as it comes closer and closer to this time/space-flux-capacitated dimension.  It is the joy of story, tapping into worlds, creating them, relating them to ours.  F!!!ING AWESOME.

I hope you appreciate the magic in what you’re creating.

(And if you really have read all this, then woo hoo!  You are awarded a million magic bonus points!  Thanks for playing!)


P.S.  I  never before considered myself a cat lady.  But I journal, and pet, and photograph, and love on a lot of cats.  Sometimes, you simply must admit to being a stereotype.

Yes, The Story has Romance

And I’m swooning.  You creating anything swooneriffic?

My Radiant Readers,

Writing books is romantic.

I always thought so, anyway.  It’s like that in the movies, with the man in the French cottage with his hot Portuguese housekeeper… (oh, that’s the one movie, one of my faves–Love Actually 😉.  The Story and I have had plenty a romantic moment, when I’ve found a particularly nice place to write: housesitting and nestled against landscaped hillsides in North Asheville, with new dog and cat friends for company; in a café on the luminously lit Circular Quay in Sydney, Australia–the Opera House lights shifting primary-colored pearly out past my laptop; beside the spaciously-lit window framing the library fountain, splashing less than the wind-lapped surface of the harbour in Wellington, New Zealand; and where it all began–baby-blue walls and dark rich cocoa smells of chocolate love at the French Broad Chocolate Lounge in downtown Asheville, NC.  Totes romantic, right?  Still, the majority of The Story has been created eyes-glued-to-a-screen, wheeling and dealing typed words, scouring the interwebs in research–a singular focus of getting what comes to me to you.

11406763_708320165962783_2738027904865408643_oIn the weeks of constant writing, preparing Book I for your readership, I’ve been confined to computer screen.  Granted, I oscillate from Allgood Café in Weaverville to home, so The Story gets some fresh air, but for the most part it’s me, sitting in my bedroom/office, plugging away.

However, the past twelve hours have been a highlight of romance for The Story series and I.  I’ve been plotting Book III in the past week, making sure all the whirly swirly tendrils of character and plot connection are staked throughout the series.  (Can you tell I’ve got to plant supports for the garden tomatoes during my break today?)  Plotting’s been a thrill!  (In case you’re concerned, Book II is mostly written; the idea to separate the one giant book into three was firmed up within the past couple months, leaving room to play and extend “The End.”)  In the years of editing, the creation and fleshing out of ideas for Book III has been an exhilarating part of the The Story’s process.

Let’s transform that exhilaration into the imagery of a few nature-based symbols.  As I’ve mentioned, I’ve spent the past four years living overseas and traveling.  I did an improv-spoken word piece in a show in New Zealand about how growing an avocado is a metaphor for home and putting down roots (you can check it out on my website).  Now that I’m settled in Asheville, I’ve had my avocado plant sprouting and expanding along with my writing.  My housemates mentioned the need for another avocado plant to grow alongside, to encourage pollination and the fruit, so I plucked the other seed (wrapped in paper towel, placed in a ziplock bag, and ignored in a dark cabinet during the winter months…is that how a partner is to be found? ;), which had indeed germinated.  Now, I have a pair of avocado plants.  I am home, at last.


The night before last, my housemate was giddy in the morning before she went to work.  She explained that she had seen lightning bugs illuminating the big oak tree in our backyard, around 2:30a.m.  Now, I saw my first American lightning bug last week, and that was a delight in and of itself!  Another symbol for my roots, of a childhood in hot southeastern Virginia summers, playing outside until your arms and legs are still and tired, along with the last light of day.  (I must give a shout out to the glowworms in New Zealand, and the stars in the Aussie Outback—pricks of inspiring lights in their own right!).

I went to bed exhausted last night, but woke an hour later.  Quiet, dark.  Sounds of crickets after a day of nourishing rain.  I got up and did more work to the outline of Book III.  Thrill!  Then the hour ticked past 2:37a.m., and I decided to go back to sleep.  My mind ticked with character connections, storylines…imagine a giant party line of people speaking, all wanting to tell you their stories, and you having to be patient and work on a much slower physical pace of linear capture.  Not to mention I have to wait to really write it; my focus now is Book I!  I lie in bed, my screen saver bubbling color and then fading to sleep, and my eyes adjusting to the darkness after making a few more notes on my phone (I know, it’s crazy how techie I’ve become!)  Finally, when the dark wrapped her arms around the room, I got up and watched the oak tree outside my window.  Electric yellow and blue-white beacons flashed on and off, whirly swirling in the tree.  At the base, at the top–covering foundation and space before sky.  I breathed, and the tree blinked…another, and another.  My heart swelled.  This is it.  The magic: The Story expanding, one point of light at a time, in the metaphorical idea of a tree, a network of life; starting as a dream and materializing like the lush of summer growth.  I finally went to sleep, after smiles relaxed into snoring, and my total adoration of being a Creator relaxed into more dreams.

One thought was persistent in the above transition: those fireflies are also a symbol for the books’ readership.  It’s starting slowly, growing over time, until the handful of readers grow beyond the tree…perhaps one day as cavernous and dimensional as the stars against the black Outback night.  But it begins, here, now.  At home.

Thank you for being one of those points of light—your own magnificent and complex story.

…and for playing.  :)


0613151222a P.S.  My housemate also announced this morning it’s National Outdoors Day.  And so I was inspired to move my writing station to the backyard.  So very, very romantic!! :)   I hope this inspires you to create, or at least take credit for the ooey gooey romantic goodness in your world.  If you don’t see it at first, keep an eye out.  It’ll come.


(originally written June 2015)

More Story of Mine!

Hello!  Yellow!

Wanna know how I got from sluggin’ around on the couch to publishing books and Creator Supreme status?
1111151330Pop the popcorn – this is a good one.  The setting – fourth grade classroom at Carrsville Elementary School.  Little Randi has a daily journal topic.  But on Fridays, oooo, that’s free day!  So on Fridays my imagination runs liberated and giddy great to a girl’s backyard where an alien creature has landed and becomes her pet and bestie.  It’s not too long before my teacher, Mrs. Folden, cottons on to the depths and endurance of my creativity and allows me to write my “book” every day during journal time.  “I’m going to dedicate this book to you, Mrs. Folden,” I say.
Fast-forward ten years and I wake up with the idea for another story.  I’m on summer break from college.  I write with verve and renewed resolve to finish this puppy and publish it.  I don’t tell anyone what it’s about, because I don’t want to spoil it for them!  I’m high off knowing I can do anything, so I’m certain the book will be on the bookstore shelves in no time.  “No time” becomes six years.   I write and work and finally decide to take a break from the book; I’ll just do a short piece to flex the imagination muscle.  I start drafting what is now The Story series.  (To read the complete origin story of our relationship, click here – more popcorn is recommended!)  The Story comes to me in the form of a dream, from which I wake with the absolute knowledge it will be a bestseller .
I now understand that premonition was the incredible energy of Story Creates and now. I had the same desires then to finish it quickly and publish, allowing the great wealth and attention of a bestseller come over me like a pro-surfer dream wave.  Instead, I move overseas and live there four years, working, traveling, and poetizing.  I leave a choice life in New Zealand, and at the end of 2014 I land in Asheville, NC to finish and finally publish my fiction.
You might say, “If you think you can do anything, then why didn’t you do it?  Why didn’t you publish those first books?”  Because I lived the refining of manifestion, learning the subtlties of creation.  Was that really what I wanted when I was ten, to be a published author?  No, I wanted to have a unicorn and play with my friends.  I would not have been able to manage my agent, editor, publicist and my imagination.  In college?  Maybe I could’ve handled it a bit better, but I also learned priceless lessons in confidence, cultivating my other talents and relationships.  The Story has become a book series and Story Creates, something I hadn’t seen on the horizon when I penned those first drafts.  I have realized my desires to play with others in this creation-station of a life, and that is infinitely more satisfying then the quick bucks of a bestseller and moving on to the next thing.  I see now how it has all unraveled quite perfectly.
What if we got what we wanted insta-quick?  Celebrity status?  Revenge?  A pet puma?  Would we really be ready for the pro-surfer dream wave?  We as Creators have this delicious buffer of time to refine what we truly want, and wade through the warm waters of where those desires originate.  That way we ride the wave with a salt-twinkling grin rather than crashing to broken bones.
From the inception of my aspiration to be a writer to now – those years have taught me patience and creation.  Let life define the delight and surprise in which things come.  Focus on the goal, the feeling of its result – what your experience will be like when it happens.  Design a desire not to fill a hole, not to fix something seemingly broken.  In order to align yourself with the groovy energy of your desire, find the grooviness in your now.  For me, that was camper-vanning New Zealand, appreciating insights from daily conversations, reading my book and saying, “Wowie, Ran, you are a talented writer.  I like what you have to say.  You are a worthy human, all right!!”  Never skip over that important and 100% solid fact: You matter.  All the time.  Every second – yes, now!  Woo!  Now, too!  And yep, RIGHT THIS MOMENT!
Get into that ten-year-old spirit.  Write your alien dialect in square font if it thrills you.  Go out and play! (Thanks for playing!)  Snack on popcorn when you get tired.  And as always, stay fabulous and stay tuned!
Love and Hot Pink,

Creator Statement

The Bible

I was sixteen and whining to my mother.  “I don’t know what to do!”  Lolling around on the couch like a slug under salt. “Ugh, I’m supposed to pick a college…I don’t even know what I want…life is so hard!  Ugh!”

My mom barely paused from whatever she was doing.  She threw a book at me.  It was titled Excuse Me, Your Life is Waiting (which I lovingly covered with my teenage-funky-design and keep to this day).  That was my introduction to creating with intention.  It was less than a year later that I wrote an essay for my senior high school  English class about how the ideas in that book had changed my life.  I feel so blessed to have learned about this mighty mumbo jumbo at such a young age!

I’ve spent more than half my life aware.  Understanding that what happens to me is not up to chance or luck or the grand design of an external authority.  I understand my life is my own; I am the Creator of it – any grand designs will come from my imagination-sharpened pencil.  There is much responsibility that comes with this ideology, and many people fear holding that power.  It’s easier to have something or someone to blame.  But like anything, practice, play, and support from my own teachers and role models have lined this life silver.  I truly live in abundance, excitement, wonder, and many days are easy peas with cherries on top.  But I’ve learned the deliciousness of manifestations that differ from what I planned.  These are never disasters or divergence from design.  What might appear a hardship is a lesson; my life evolves in sublime form.  My toes wiggle in excitement for the next adventure, but they are strong as a ballerina’s, because I am here to grow and change.

In these years I have come to respect each person’s belief system.  We are all creating in accordance with our acceptance of laws of the universe, whether those are based on religion or science or poetry.  When I teach, I honor those systems in the way they have uniquely designed you, as mine has done for me.  If you are comfortable and happy in your universe, excellent.  If you are seeking to supplement with ideas that realize more of your own power, then I have much to say!  I regard most highly our right to be free and live this life as enigmatically and naturally singular as we were created into it.

So what would I tell that sixteen-year-old in turmoil?  Relax.  First step is to dream. Figuring out what you want is the hardest part, but also the most creative.  Explore as if you were five and given an infinite supply of crayons and paper and time to imprint the fascination of your inner worlds on this one.  Relax some more.  When those dreams come true, loll around in appreciation like a slug on watermelon smiles before sunrise.  Because they will come true.

They have, they do, they will be.

Thanks, Mom.

And thanks to you for playing!

With toes wiggling in excitement for my journey and yours…


The Intimacy of Fame


Dearest Readers,

I feel a calling.  I’ve always felt my future, large, prosperous, being an influence to many, but especially now that I am publishing my book and making a living as a performer, I am leveling with that monster called Fame.

(For a backstory peek, check out my performance poem “Fame Monster.”)

I’ve referred to this feeling of impending fame as Oprahtastic (reaching millions…billions!).  Now, maybe this is my ego fluffing her peacock feathers, or maybe this is time dissolving and my present self sensing the impact of my future self.  I like to think the latter.  I want to help others feel fulfilled, inspired and happy.  I want to extend the joy in which I live my life to as many who seek it.  I’m good at it.  This is my calling.

I experienced the wild rush of being on stage to a packed out venue a few times while in New Zealand and Australia last year.  It’s addictive as good coffee, and satisfying as dessert.  Since moving back to Asheville, I’ve experienced a decent congregation of friends, family, and some newbies who have come to support me in poetry and readings.  I appreciate their presence from the top and bottom of my heart.  I know logically, that it takes time to make a name for yourself.  Much of my time the past few months have been spent in solitude, writing, getting the book done so it can be released to the world.  Still, in the meantime my prestigious future nags at me like an epically stellar dream that I’ve forgotten after waking.  I remember only the impression of it being epic and stellar.

And yet fame is scary.  The Fame Monster has driven people crazy, to drug/alcohol additions, to suicide.  My heart frowns at the gossip mags in the grocery aisles, at our tendencies to share a scandalous story.  Still, I’m not scared.  I am so deeply rooted in who I am, and care far more about my personal relationships than a persona created by fame.  So when the Fame Monster tugs with a claw at the tail of my comfy writing top, I remind myself it’s the positive motivation I want to provide people that drives my desire to be known.  And dolla-dollas from book/perfomance ticket sales don’t hurt.

Before I am inundated with sales (because I will be), now’s the most excellent time to center.  It always is, really.

I spend a few hours each Tuesday and Thursday on the yoga mat.  I do Yoga Nidra in Weaverville Yoga, which I highly recommend as a time to focus on intentions in order to realize them.  Last week, my intention, something we call sankalpa, was “I am enjoying the intimacy of my fame.”  If Oprahtastic times are to come, these may be the last days of my relationships nurtured mostly face-to-face, conversation-to-conversation.

This is good.  Everyone wants their work to be known, their creative efforts to triumph with a satisfied audience, but I really do enjoy face-to-face, conversation-to-conversation.  This morning, I walked to work feeling the stress of my projects, deadlines with those snarky smiles, sarcastic in their demands for attention, “Are you really going to get this done?  Is anyone even going to see it?  Hear it?”  Yes.  I will.  They will.  The fear dissolves when I center at the secret to my happiness: enjoy the present.

I am enjoying my morning coffeeshop conversations, in the quiet, jazz-infused Allgood Coffee, in which I am a regular

I am enjoying the family-knitted relationship within Weaverville Yoga, the small classes, the witnessing of enthusiastic improvement within my students.

I am enjoying the burgeoning partnership between myself and The Battery Park Book Exchange.  I get to perform my work and those of literary greats.  I get to spread the words, words, words…

…and one day, the word about Randi Janelle and her inspirational art will start to roll of its own volition, like a bouncy-ball I’ve launched from the top of a Blue Ridge.  At that point, I will adjust my intention, my sankalpa, to something along the lines of “I am seeking more intimacy in my fame.”

Whether it’s ego, or a vision of my future, I know I will touch many with my words.  And with the same certainty, I know it’s the daily magic of interaction with those immediately around me that fuels my desire to work with people–to inspire, to create, to appreciate.

So many thanks for listening.  I hope your intentions are clear, and your conversations, intimately wonderful.



P.S.  Save this post, one day…I mean, TODAY it is worth something. 😉



Yoga Inbound Workshops!

Yoga Inbound FB Cover

I am thrilled to be creating workshops at my usual yogi haunt of Weaverville Yoga.  I am hoping to do these more frequently, and in a variety of themes, but the first will be on one of the incredible benefits of yoga: opening channels of communication between the body and the mind/spirit/ego/places in our lives we may limit our awareness.

I have been honing my intuition the past several years.  My body and I are now super tight (no, not with muscle tension, but like homies!).  I realized my knee injury acting up indicated my need for stability and be confident that that my profession (and purpose), living situation, and desire to expand/travel all at the same time would be realized.  Sure enough, after resting and turning my focus to the stability I had now, I was granted an opportunity to travel, make more money, and find stability/confidence in taking care of myself in other countries!

So now when my eyesight wanes, my face breaks out, or I have a few days of indigestion, I find quiet and ask my body what a reoccurring lapse of health might be indicating.  Sure we are used to finding the obvious culprits, ie. stress, overworking, physical strain…but often injuries or small bouts of pesky imbalance find their way back into our lives if we don’t pinpoint the underlying energies.

This workshop is of course not limited to those with imbalances (though we ALL have them!)  If you are feeling over the moon with health and vitality, you will still benefit from Yoga Inbound.  You’re then welcome to turn your intentions towards realizing something in your life which hasn’t yet arrived: an opportunity to travel, to find that golden piggy bank you always wanted, to be grace, to be more often fulfilled.  This workshop will help to manifest those wishes great and small that you’d like to bring to our space and time!

The first workshop will take place September 19, from 2-4pm at Weaverville Yoga (7 Florida Ave, Weaverville).  It’s only $15!

This workshop will include some journaling, exercise, and visualizations, so please come prepared with your favorite set of pages to capture your impressions, comfy clothes, and an open mind! (The studio has yoga mats and props; still, you’re welcome to bring your own. All levels of yoga experience are welcome!

Check our Weaverville Yoga’s website and/or the Facebook event.

See you then and namaste!

Meet the Characters of The Story! Speed Dating with Dan

The Story: Deviation is the first novel in The Story series.  It was released on Halloween, 2015.  Interested in knowing more/want the bookDan quote?  Subscribe at my Story Creates page.  Geewillakers!  Thanks!  Here is a character from the book, cornered speed dating style:

Dan Jones, 34.  High School Math Teacher

DAN: Hi, I’m Dan.  I’m not sure what I’m doing here, as I’m married.

CREATOR: Would you call yourself a creative person?

DAN: Not really.  I’m a high school math teacher.

CREATOR: But you like to write?

DAN: Well, yeah, I did some creative writing in college.  (Laughs)  That was fun.  I was going to  minor in it…but well, Susan got pregnant with our oldest, so I had to fast track my teaching degree to support the little guy.

CREATOR: And the story?

DAN: How did you know about that?

CREATOR: I have my sources.  Don’t worry, it’s safe to share.

DAN: Okay, so I’ve been working on something.  Kind of crazy actually how it came about.  I was inspired to write when I went down for my Aunt Regina’s funeral in New Orleans.

CREATOR: Would you say your recent creative habits have changed you?

DAN: Yeah, I guess.  I’m realizing writing is, well, an articulation of many interests I didn’t know I had.  I often feel that the story is not mine at all but the characters’, and they are teaching me things about the world.  I know that sounds silly.

CREATOR: Not at all.  Do you ever feel that you’re a character in someone else’s story?

DAN: You mean, am I fictional?  Ha, of course not.

CREATOR: You don’t believe you have a creator?

DAN: Are you asking if I believe in God?  What kind of speed dating question is that?

CREATOR: The most interesting kind.  Please answer the question.

DAN: I guess I believe in God.  I’ve been going to church all my life.  My physical attendance has been pretty good, but maybe I’ve only committed myself mentally to that religion 50%.  I go because my wife wants it for our family, and probably because of habit.

But now…Now I find myself interested in many different religions and belief systems–how they influence and evolve across cultures.  What they have in common…

CREATOR: What’s that?

DAN: Power, expression, and connection.  We often inherit our belief system, and it designates an authority figure or figures–who creates what, and how much power, duty, and freedom we possess within that framework.  We all want freedom and connection.

CREATOR: When do you most feel free, most connected, Dan?

DAN: I think it’s when I’m writing.

CREATOR: So creating is connection?  Freedom?

DAN: Hm, well…


Learn about the other ten characters and join the Story Creates adventure by subscribing from this page!  Thanks!  Awesome sauce!



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