Dorothy Colleen

okay, so this happened today

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I went shopping with Sam and Sharon today, and while in a store Sharon was approached by someone who asked her if she knew the strange individual who was following her daughter, and Sharon said "That's Sam's dad."

So she went and told me, and then I shared it with the cashier as we were checking out, and Sharon said, "He cross-dresses but he is a good guy anyway."

So ... that happened today.

Make of it what you will.

how I became the queen of comments

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when I first arrived at this site I was a little shy about giving comments. (Its true!) But I always treasured it whenever someone left a comment on any of my stories, so one day I realized that if I felt that way, other authors might too, and so set out to try send out as much encouragement I could. I just hope I havent become annoying ...

Toddy Notrope

Toddy Notrope

Little Toddy Notrope looked like any other little boy.

Yes, he had blond hair, but it wasnt long. Nobody ever mistook him for a girl, or called him pretty.

Maybe he giggled sometimes, but so do a lot of little boys, and he also loved to follow behind his older brother or sit and watch wrestling, just like any other little boy would.

Besides imitating his brother, little Toddy Notrope loved to read, and loved to talk.

Boy, did he ever like to talk.

“Gonna be a lawyer one day” His grandfather said.

a question about my bookmarked pieces

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I was looking at my bookmark page, and I noticed I have some blog entries along with the stories. but when I go to those blog pages there is nowhere on them to indicate they are bookmarked, and therefore no way for me to unbookmark them if I wanted to. I'm probably missing something obvious can anybody help me?

Sympathetic magic

Sympathetic Magic

Mardi Gras isn’t my thing, but there I was, in New Orleans.

Because James asked.

Not too many people stuck with me when I came out as a trans man, stopped being Barbra and became Benjamin, but James did.

So when he asks for help, I come.

He’s hung out a shingle as a P.I., getting a rep as the guy for the forgotten people, the ones the police ignore.

I may have bitten off more than I can chew

I've talked here about how my stories have a life of their own, and in the case of one story I'm working on, it may be a Frankenstein's monster.

See, it started with me tossing around some ideas for my anniversary, and one was to do a little series of tributes to my favorite (non-Big Closet) authors, starting with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and his best know creation, Sherlock Holmes.

writing update

Just giving you guys a quick update on my writing:

I've almost got one story finished, its called "sympathetic magic", and I'm shooting for having it published by next weekend. I also have a mystery story underway, so stay tuned on that one.

Other than those two, I've been mulling over some ideas for my upcoming anniversary, not making a lot of progress.

Sorry, but a bout of PTSD plus being tired from Real Life (TM) has eaten away most of my writing spoons, so that I've had any writing done at all is a bit of a miracle, honestly.

Huggles to all who want one.

8 more days to leave a kudo

If you have been meaning to read a story from the reader's retention contest (and maybe even leave a kudo), the deadline is fast approaching.

My entry starts here: .

And thank you, to everyone for how well this story has been received

adventures in name changing

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I wanted to share the story of my name change.

It all began not long after I began my transition, and discovered that if I wanted surgery, I would have to change my name. Which would have been difficult, because I was deep in debt, and didnt have the money it would take.

That changed when Walmart outsourced my department, and paid me out, giving me a about four thousand dollars.

With the money issue solved, I sent away to New Brunswick for a copy of my birth certificate, which I would need to start the ball rolling.

a D & D poem

A D & D poem:

with apologies to Larry Niven and Steven Barnes

Oh, I once had a sword, or a sword had me,

turned my cowardliness into bravery

We had many battles, the sword in the lead

I always hated it, I dont like to bleed

one day I got lucky, could leave the sword behind

deep in a dungeon for some sucker to find

Dont worry now, I still do some good.

I carry a club. No-ego wood!

upcoming anniversary

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I was looking at my account info the other day, and realized that in about 3 months, I will be celebrating my 10th anniversary of being a member here.

And so I've been thinking about how I might knowledge this milestone with a story.

Right now, I'm not sure what I might do. I've got one small piece almost finished that might help me avoid not having anything to share for the next three months, but beyond that ...

I could do something like Randalynn's "Convergence: when stories collide", but I'm not sure what stories would make the cut.

read a piece for a writing group, they loved it

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So I went to a writing group meeting tonight, and read a piece called "voiceless" (which you can read here: ) and the group was very moved by it, and couldn't praise me enough.

Always nice to get positive feedback, you know?

Pathfinder: The Siege of Fiddler's Vale

Pathfinder: The Siege of Fiddler’s Vale.

In loving memory of crazypagangurl, aka Tiffani, who was a great help in getting this one started.


Sometimes, bad things just come out of nowhere.

But sometimes, there is a warning.

And riding hard towards the town of Fiddler’s Vale, a warning is coming ...

I dreamed I could fly

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last night, I dreamed I could fly.

Well, I say, "fly" but what in the dream I was walking, rather uncertainty, a couple of inches above the ground.

That wasnt the strange part of the dream.

The strange part was I went on a date with a woman and as part of the date we rode a bus together. I apologized for the non-romantic transportation, saying that I sucked at dating because I was in my 50's, and broke.

The woman seemed happy enough anyway, so there is that.

life is so fragile.

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Life is so fragile, and so brief.

In late November Tiffany (aka crazypagangurl) passed away suddenly. Then, about a week ago, I got a phone call from a friend saying her wife had barely survived a health scare, and she was shaken to the core. Then one of my cousins tripped and fell and broke her shoulder, and was told a few inches difference she might have broken her neck instead. Now, Drea's wife has been taken from her.

What I'm saying is, tell the people you love that you love them. You never know when it will be the last time you speak to somebody.

Very bad news to share

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I've been authorized to share this: Yesterday, Andrea DiMaggio, one of our long time contributors here and a personal friend, suffered a terrible loss. Her wife, Tracy was struck by a car and died in hospital a short time later.

Please join me in sending Drea our hugs, prayers, and support at this most difficult time.

about writing stories

I would like to talk about writing for a moment, if you guys dont mind.

See, I have a theory about my stories.

I dont think that writing is like a carpenter making a table, but rather like a woman giving birth.

For I believe my stories have a life of their own.

And my latest story is a good example of what I mean.

Because when I first conceived the idea, it was going to be a horror story.

Perfectly reasonable

Perfectly Reasonable

I was just about to turn in when when I heard a knock on my bedroom door.

I slipped on my robe, and opened it to see my brother Arthur standing there in just a towel.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.

“I need your help, Gwen” he said.

Yes, I’m Guinevere, or just Gwen. Our parents thought that would be cute.

the history of Solomon's Test

I hope you guys don't mind, but I'd like to give a little background on my story, Solomon's test.

See, the story is actually the 2nd oldest story I have published here.

(The first, if you're curious is called "Six Forty-Five")

See, way back in my teens, I started fiddling with the idea of becoming a writer, and wrote down some story titles I felt I could expand into full stories. And, as I had recently become a fan of super hero comics, one of those ideas involved creating a hero of my own.

Solomon's Test part 5 - the conclusion

Solomon’s test part 5 - the conclusion

Chapter 9: Solomon’s Trial

Long afterward, when Lorraine tried to describe what had happened next, she found herself struggling to find words.

The place she found herself in at first seemed like a green grassy grove, with a range of mountains to the east. A bright and clear river flowed through, and flowers grew everywhere.

Solomon's Test part 4

Solomon’s test part 4

Chapter 7: Talia’s transformation and Renee’s renaissance

Talia’s changes were both subtle and dramatic.

She was still wearing her EMT uniform, but she filled it out in a much more feminine manner. But to Lorraine, the biggest change was to her stance and demeanor. When Lorraine had seen her at the support group, the girl had seemed shrunk, drawn into herself as if permanently waiting for some blow to strike, or as if the psychological burden of being trans was physically crushing her.

Solomon's Test part 3

Solomon’s Test Part 3

Chapter 5: Transformation

Michael cried out, breaking the silence, and ending the hug Lorraine had been sharing with him.

“What’s happening?” Lorraine cried out.

“My arms ...the hair, look at them” Michael responded.

Lorraine looked, and she would later describe what she saw as like watching a timelapse film of a plant sprouting from the ground, but in reverse.

Because the hairs on Michael’s arms were shrinking.

Solomon's Test part 1

Solomon’s Test


In a place that is not quite of our world two figures meet, and one begins to speak.

“Well, where have you been and what have you been up to?”

“Been here and there, poking around.”

“So what is it this time?”

“Been thinking. Once we did a wager that if you took everything away from a man, he’d be useless.”

“You lost that wager.”

Pink Boys

Pink boys

“Grandpa? Mom said ... mom said I need to hear the story about that picture of grandma and her baseball team.”

I looked at my grandson, and then said, “All right. Do you see that person standing beside her? That’s me.”

“You? You wore a pink dress to play baseball?”

“I did indeed, Alan. Let me tell you all about it ...:

Years ago ...

“Hey coach, why is there a girl trying out for the team?”

“Because she’s the best pitcher I’ve ever seen.”

“Come on, really?”

bad case of the nasties today

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I fight a lot of nasties.

Today's nasty is called "Dorothy, you're a burden - when you aren't an outright hazard - to those who care about you. Best thing you could do for them would be go away or lock yourself up"

So if you got anything nice to say to me, today might be a good day to say it.


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