Had a few pieces I'd gotten commissioned that I hadn't posted yet, so voila!

I think I'm getting addicted to furry art of my sona.

You'll let me know if it's a problem, right?

Right?

I get the feeling when I take years to write a journal, people tend to think I'm dead or left the site.

Neither so far. Just busy with trying to exist as an adult in this crazy world.

I've been trying to come up with some projects to work on now that I have a more consistent schedule. I'll try to post about those here.

Until then, thanks for following me or being lazy enough to not pull me from your watch list! :D

I noticed my last journal was more than a little bit of a downer and decided I should do an update after a year.

My corgi passed away and after a few weeks of coming to terms with it, I had a dog sized hole in my life and had to fill it with a puppy. We found one at a local shelter, a border collie/blue heeler mix and named him Indiana Jones. He's been a major handful but still a joy to have around. He just turned one year old last month.

I also had to move out of my country home since the landlord suddenly decided he wanted to sell it. After a frustrating time finding a new place, we managed to land one that's a little bit more in the city but still has a good back yard.

And, in the middle of all that, I also got a new job offer with a bigger paycheck and more options! So it's been kinda crazy getting everything settled.

I'm now working on a fursuit head, thinking about maybe heading to a convention in the future and trying to get back into writing. The move and divesting myself of a bunch of junk has cleared up some headspace and the new job is not nearly as stressful. I'm still overwhelming myself with projects but I'm trying to focus on one at a time so that I can actually get them done. Hence, I'm posing my progress on my fursuit at the moment. Not always as interesting as writing smut but I'm trying to stick with something until it's done. Baby steps and all that.

Hope everything's good with you all!

Einstein, my corgi, was feeling lethargic so I took him into the vet. After blood tests and an X-ray, they found a mass on his spleen. It was bleeding regularly and giving him anemia. If it's not removed, the problems will only get worse. He's in surgery now, but the vet bills are going to be close to $3000. I'm desperate at this point. Anything you can do, even if it's just a signal boost would be appreciated. I don't want to lose my best friend.

gofundme.com/9r3h72ag is the gofundme for his surgery.

tazolizard@gmail is my PayPal account.

I know it's a lot to ask, but I need a much help as I can.

Well, with all the other books showing up in my general news feed, I decided to dip my toe into some self-publishing. I've started with grabbing some of my poor, neglected stories and giving them a good editing, scrubdown and reformat to publish on Kindle. With each story I publish, I'll be running free days for previously published works, so check me out and you can grab some stories you may not have known I wrote to stash in your Kindle for those long bus rides home!

My author name is Tazo Ling (because you kinda need a last name or it looks weird).

I also have started a Tumblr at http://tazolizard.tumblr.com where I'll be mentioning giveaways for books, posting the occasional bits of other info, likely reposting silly things that amuse me and generally trying to be more conversational. Journals tend to get overlooked, so I figured why not make a bigger ass of myself in a more public locale! Yay!

Further updates as events warrant!

Anyone who tells you that writing is a lark, a whim, just some bit of creative fluff that anyone can do with a few spare moments ....

CAN SUCK MY DICK.

And not in the happy fun way.

My back hurts, my work is done for the moment and I have a burning desire to tell damn kids to get off my lawn.

Now, I'm going to grab some sleep and quietly wonder why I do this to myself. :D

Okay. So I'm going to try to write one story per day off. This may be a single month only thing but, lets face it, I'm not the most productive member of this particular society. That said, I need to get the work done if I ever want to seriously be a writer and I'm finding that with each passing day at my job, I really would rather be writing.

Now, I'm going to try to keep the quality up. At least, as much as I have been able to. That said, input is appreciated and I've managed to build up a thick enough set of scales to not take it personally.

Along similar lines, if you're inclined, suggest something. I can't swear it'll get used but expanding horizons does help with the writing. That said, I don't tend to do much extreme stuff.

There it is. We'll find out how much of a pass/fail thing this is. Feel free to boo me out if I don't make it past this week (or today). I will more than deserve it. Until then, I'll keep cranking out the stories and trying to stay in a productive groove.

... no sexual innuendo intended.

Erf. I'm slowly becoming one of those contributors who spends more time journaling than actually submitting stories. Well, it's still writing after a fashion so I'm glad for that.

I recently reread one of my earlier works, Mod Todd's Bod, and it got me to thinking again on why I like transformation so much; also what about it is so interesting. Sure, the end product is usually pretty appealing but there's still something to be said for the process. Mod Todd's Bod was more than a little self-indulgent and I was honestly a little embarrassed to put my kink out there so brazenly because, as it is natural to assume, our kinks are our own and incapable of being shared because we (by which I mean me) are the only freaks in existence; no one else shares our particular freak wavelength.

Of course, this is equally self-indulgent tripe so I decided to go back and clean up the story a bit. It also reminded me of another work that had been languishing on the back burner for a while that was in a similar vein. It's not up to the hard core bits yet, so it's probably not worth posting but it does make me think I should get back to it. Of course, I have three novels already vying for my attention and a burdensome desire to turn my writing hobby into a viable income source.

That said, I suppose the big question I'd ask is: am I the only freak out here in this regard? What do you guys think of transformation? Is it the most vanilla thing in the furry world or still kinky enough to raise an eyebrow?

I feel as though it is the true mark of my struggles as a writer in a world where the visual arts are valued so much more. Where the accolades of so many go to the faces on television and in movies without consideration of the people who give them those words to act from and through. My pages are consumed to stave off the Winter cold that stands as a metaphor for the monolithic nature of publication and how often our creativity is stifled because the textural medium is considered dead.

... Also I have a digital copy and it's really freaking cold out!

No, I'm not. Just seeing many, many, many of these journals. Followed by the journals of people not leaving but how the understand why other people are leaving.

I suppose, beyond not having any clue about any of the drama related, I honestly don't get it. This is a website, a resource. You should switch if the tools or resources aren't what you wanted or if the exposure you're getting isn't netting you the returns you want. All of this should of course, be tempered by your own output and talent. Like, me moving to another site would be pointless since I update so infrequently and remain an enigma rapped in a riddle wrapped in two feet of bullshit.

Drama or whatever you kids are calling it nowadays, should never be a motivator for anything. It's commonly little more than bluster. SO what if the admin changes and you don't like his/her hairstyle? Does the site still run? Can you do what you need/want to do? If yes, then accept that people who may not completely jib with can know what they are doing. If not, then do some research and find a better location. Notify the people you want to notify so they don't think you died in a car accident and do it with some maturity. Let them know you find that site Y offers free blowjobs and 12 terrabytes of storage and that's why your moving. Don't bemoan how you'd _like_ to stay if _only_ they would do X. Sites offer different things, they fill different niches and not everyone's niches are going to fill the same.

In short, or TL;DR for you youths, if you move, do it for solid, legitimate reasons and don't just do it because you think poorly of the administration. The fact that it took this long to decide to move suggests they were doing a pretty damn good job, you're only upset because you were uncomfortable for a moment in the long period of everything working fine.

Personally, I'm too lazy to bother moving. So if you see me anywhere other than here or SoFurry, it's probably someone pretending they are me. Pity them. I sure will. :D

I love the smell of snow in the morning, it smells like ... well, cold.

So I got 5" dumped on me overnight and I live out in the country so no one is bothering to plow the roads. That meant I couldn't make it into work. Which means "ya day off" and possible "boo, if this keeps up I'll no longer have a job". The latter's unlikely but a concern nonetheless.

Mostly just bored, hoping that the power doesn't vanish and I'm stuck in a house with only a fireplace for entertainment.

Yeah, I know, I should probably be writing smutty stuff. Such a slacker.

Hope things are going well for you all!

I'm pretty sure this is a new record for me, not just waiting 9 months before I post a sequel. Clearly the aliens have stolen my lazyness cortex and will be sending me a ransom note for it soon.

If I keep this up, people might think I'm actually a writer. :D

So apparently my hometown is making the news. The WBC decided this little college town nestled in the valley was a good place to stage another soldier funeral protest. It's weird because we barely exist in anyone's mind anyway and for WBC to decide our little burb was the place to be is strange to say the least. I suppose it also bothers me because this will wind up being all about the WBC and the anti-WBC groups and not about someone who died far too young. I feel a little responsible in some ways, since my rights are at the core of this debate. That me being considered a human being is hard enough but that someone else who died has to suffer in a battle they had no part in. It's disappointing.

So, provoked by something I can only assume was insanity, I was digging through my old stuff I'd been rolling over since back when I had a 486.

For you young people, that's something that your iPhone could run circles around.

Regardless, I found some of my SUPER old stories. Holy-sheeze, talk about your trips down memory lane. To think that some of these were written while many furs on here were still in first grade makes me twitch a little. Regardless, I figured I throw a couple up along with some of my super shitty art that I dabbled in so we can all have a good, hearty laugh about this so I don't start crying.

... okay, it's also an excuse to pad my gallery a little since I'm so bad at it. That said, I'm sure some of you haven't seen this stuff before so it's new to you!

Politely, because that is what I strive to be, I must state that I hold no ill will against such journals or their attached artists/writers/costumers/legal advisers/crazed lunatic rantings. You've got a talent, you want people to appreciate/covet/give you ideas for it's use and that is swell.

That said, I also have to admit to crushing disappointment when every journal says "REF SHEET REQUIRED". I'll own up, it's a little childish and it's free art. They can do whatever they want. It just feels like you're an 8 year old outside an ice cream shop in the summer and you could have a scoop your favorite flavor FOR FREE if you could just produce a piece of government issued ID.

Also, this journal is NOT a raffle free arts extravaganza but if you're reading it, you probably already assumed that. Though feel free to post references if your character in the comments. I don't mind.

... well it's my birthday too!

Eh, I write these so rarely I figured I could get away with some cheese.

Last one was overly somber. This time I'm 35 which feels like it actually is supposed to mean something. That said, it's just an age and eventually they all start to blur together. Feelin' pretty good otherwise. I've got a CPAP machine which is probably way too expensive for me but I'm happy to be sleeping like a normal(ish) person. Talked to insurance and there may be a way to get a cheaper option but we'll see. Otherwise, just trying to find some spare scratch to cover medical costs. Planning a party on Saturday to have a few friends over, though looking at the budget I'm doubtful it's gonna be much more than a few hours of conversation and whatever I can whip up from the fridge. Don't think I can swing my usual French Chocolate Cake but I might be able to find a reasonable alternative. Sadly, there is no Cookiepuss or Fudgy the Whale options out here in the boondocks of the Western Coast.

Got back into writing. I might post a chunk of my current story, though it doesn't have any saucy bits yet. Trying to be more prolific so people might want to pay me or at least not wonder if I'm dead in a ditch by the side of the road. Kinda have an itch to try painting, though I think I'd have to stick to abstract since my drawing skills are less than stellar. Still want a picture of my fursona for some inconceivable reason. Probably just a lingering desire for fame. Ahh, my all too human weaknesses for adulation and to be desired.

How's things with you ladies and/or gents?

I've always been a loud snorer and I've always had trouble getting a restful night's sleep. Turns out I likely have Sleep Apnea. I'm scheduled for a sleep study to confirm this and to find the proper treatment option for me. Problem is, I've got crappy health insurance and I'm looking at some $2000 in medical bills I'll need to pay. In addition, my job's cutting back my hours but not enough where I could easily pick up a second one. We're already getting by on the skin of our teeth as it were and while it may be more responsible to wait for the study until we can pay off a few bills, I find myself staring down the barrel of three or more months of shitty coffee, nearly passing out at work and sleeping 4+ hours of tossing and turning on my days off to just get close to normal and honestly, I want to cry. It's stupid just how much an effect sleep can have on someone and how much genetics can screw you over. The treatment's out there but it's expensive and requires a prescription, just like my asthma medicine. I want desperately to get this dealt with. I want to feel like I can get a full nights sleep. I'm tired of being tired all the time.

I didn't just come here to vent though. I'd like to ask your help. I've got no right to it considering I post about as frequently as a geological epoch but when you're out of options, you do what you can. I'm offering pay what you will stories. I'll take pocket lint, old arcade tokens, cursed amulets or just your frequent posting about how you got this awesome story from some lizard guy over the internet. I'd rather be writing something than sitting here and dwelling on what may be a few more months of existing somewhere between comatose and drugged-up. Any money will go towards bills, even if it's only tree fiddy. This is your chance to abuse my one major salable talent for pennies on the dollar.*

Drop me a note, I'll get back to you ASAP.

---

*Some restrictions apply. I'm not writing 75000 word novels for pocket change. I also reserve the right to decline fetishes I deem outside my comfort zone, though I promise to do so politely considering I've got some wacky ones of my own. All stories will be written in the order they are taken and I'll keep the turnaround time short. All stories commissioned are yours to fold, spindle or mutilate as long as you don't say you wrote it yourself and use it to springboard your literary career. Or, if you do, I'm going to need a decent amount of hush money to keep things on the DL.

After six years of editing, rewriting, fretting, swearing and likely some crying, I decided that if I really loved my manuscript, I had to set it free. So, I did a last run of cleanup and tossed it up as an e-book on Amazon.

The title is Scalebane: Willem's Tale. It's a silly story about a lizardman born to a normal family who is gifted a sword that hates all reptiles and the subsequent wacky adventures that follow. It's one of my first attempts at long fiction and my first NaNoWriMo winner. I'd love it if you picked up a copy, it's also available for free check out through the Kindle Lending Library with Prime. Let me know what you think, leave a review (hopefully not too scathing) and thanks for having a look. Self-publishing is a weird area for me. It feels a little like cheating but at the same time, it's liberating to not wind up getting sucked into the usual vanity press madness. I'd like to give this the good old college try and see where it takes me.

http://amzn.to/11RPw7q is the link to follow.

So, this isn't another of my crazy rants or belly button gazing.

It isn't a huge revelation that will make me leave FA foreverz.

I love gaming. Particularly old-school stuff. So I'm trying to create an event in my hometown to play a bunch of arcade games, have some food and generally revel in the good parts of the 80's and 90's.

The link is here for the project:

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects.....s-arcade-night

If you want a t-shirt with which to cover your nakedness with style, or you liked one or two of my stories or if you just like the idea of an Arcade Night, consider clicking and donating. I've only got about a day or so left on the project and it's come much further than I'd thought it would.

If you're broke, disinterested or upset at my blatant shilling, leave me a nasty note. I'll be sure to undergo any prescribed punishments.

So for all two of you that read these:

As I've likely mentioned in the past, I'm kinda weird about art.

See, I like the idea of greater reciprocation than just handing someone a wad of cash.

Don't get me wrong, artists deserve to get paid for their works. It's not anything like that. More so that I feel like money alone is just kinda, cheap? Tawdry? It's a difficult idea to express. Art's something that comes out of someone else. Goofy or sexy, simple or breathtaking. I don't want to get cheesy here and say that your breaking off a piece of their soul but you're asking something more profound from a person than a transaction. It differs greatly compared to buying a gallon of milk or a pair of shoes at the corner store.

Mostly this is coming up because, let's be honest, I suffer from bouts of vanity just like everyone else. I'd like to see my scaled hide rendered in something other than two page fics posted sporadically. That's never going to happen though, since I can't draw my way out of a paper bag even if you dumped it in an art class. Even if I could justify the cash to fuel my vanity, I have no reference art to work from and artists are rightly wary of eight page long, lovingly crafted descriptions of characters. I mean, don't get me started on a my level 15 paladin of Pelor ...

... but to be vaguely serious, it does leave me in a philosophical bind. Do I abuse the eyes of everyone I meet with an MSPaint monstrosity that I call a "character"? Do I quietly subsume my fickle desires in favor of some skewed sense of artistic integrity and my desire to eat pizza? Or do I quietly stew in a mix of conflicting emotions like just about every other Tom, Dick and Harry out there who always wanted to be/do X?

As always, simple answers with maximum value are always appreciated. Either that or somber headshakes and cuckoo gestures. I'm more used to the latter. :D

Or Hatchday if you swing that way.

I figured, I'm not using this journal for much else and I might as well write something.

So the not so big 34, still older than the vast majority of people on the website. No major milestones and no major speed bumps.

Still generally alive, wasting far too much time playing video games and not writing. Working on getting my novel edited. Designing a video game. Goin' to college.

It's always weird to think back on my birthday. To what has been done and what hasn't. They've never been big parties or hedonistic orgys, it's always just been another day that held some little promise of something that only I seemed aware of. I've also never been very vocal about them, which just makes it all the more difficult for people to get excited, after all I'm just shrugging my way through it nine times out of ten.

There's always a little twinge of disappointment but never a root. Never something I can point to and say, "I need to fix that next year."

Still, they keep coming. And I keep managing to keep my tail intact for the next one so that's definitely a win.

And for the other some 260 million who share the day of my birth, enjoy your times too. Only comes once a year.

(Shamelessly ripped off from a fantastic author  jeevestheroo )

So you may have noticed, I haven't posted much. Honest truth, I've been slacking in terms of writing. Jobs, bills and other stuff get in the way of hankering down and cranking out prose. However, I've found that two things tend to help me out when I'm writing: deadlines and rewards. Therefore, I propose the following ...

I'll do short stories, about 1000 words or so for a flat rate of $5. It's nice, it's round and I need the money. Said stories can be G to XXX and involve just about any situation you want. I say just about because I've got my limits. No scat/pee/diaper stuff, no gore/vore or those kind of things. You can get a inkling from what I've written previous as to my limits. I know, you've got that great slasher vore fic with necrophillia and a great plot that you just need someone to fill in the holes with, no pun intended. That person, sad to say, is not me. I can do some horror and certainly action, cheesy romance, comedy and drama. Not going to go for anything non-euclidean or squamous though.

I'll start with 5 slots. Drop me a note if you're interested and I'll contact you for details. Payment's required before I release the story and I ask that I get to post a copy over here. Once you've got the story, you can plaster your walls with it and post it freely on your account. I just like to show myself and others that I can be productive. After I've finished up the 5 slots, I'll open 5 more. We'll go this way for as long as there's interest and my wrists haven't seized up in agony. Any other questions, I can answer in the comments or to your note.

Currently, I'm set up to take PayPal payments at tazolizard at gmail.com. Should you feel the desire, you can also toss me a dollar in appreciation of any previous stories you've enjoyed. I can always use more ramen, after all.

Thanks!

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I originally could blame FA being slow or down for my lack of updates. It was a golden time of rejoicing and wallowing in procrastination. Ahh, for those halcyon days.

Well, my first attempt at actual publishing ended in a form rejection letter. It probably bothers me a bit more than I've let on but I'm still going to trudge ahead. Other than that, I've just been in a whirlwind of normal, mundane stuff. Bills needing to be paid, things needing replaced, back pain from work making me grumpy. I'm trying to get back into the writing groove but with NaNoWriMo looming on the horizon, the need for a costume for my hubby for Halloween and any number of other little things I dunno how successful I'll be.

I'm sure you're all shocked and appalled at my lack of submissions, all two of you who actually read this. ;)

Anyways, onward and upward, as they say. I hope to soon get a tablet and attempt to make a new avatar with my incredibly crappy drawing skills. I'll be sure to make it as eye-gouging as possible.

Having read SilverFenrir's journal recently, I'm back here to dump more of my own thoughts.

I've always felt like what I do here needs to be from me as much as possible. That's why I've still got a crappy avatar and why I haven't posted anything in a while, because if something comes of all this I want it to be because of my own two hands/paws/claws.

Of course, the tiny vain little lizard in the back of my skull wants raving fanbois and adulation. He's the type the wears a suit and slicks his ridges back with Turtle Wax. Some days I wish I could get rid of him. Others I feel like he's almost talking sense. Overall, it's just another of those multitudes we're all full of. I want to be popular and often read but I don't want to be buried under the unreasonable expectations of millions of others. I want people to enjoy my ideas, run with them and have fun but I also don't want people taking my work, filing off the serial numbers and saying how awesome they are. I want more views and favorites because it means I'm not just doing this for self-satisfaction but I'm more than a little afraid of the demands that might come with it.

I love writing for the sake of writing. Heck, you only need to look at my verbose seven other journals to see that. However, I also love writing for conveying thoughts. The back and forth you get from other people and the images you conjure in them. Mind you my current repertoire isn't exactly literary genius but I'm still new at this sharing bit and figured the more mundane stuff wasn't worth the electrons. After all, that stuff I can publish elsewhere.

In the end I guess it's just the same love/hate relationship we all wind up having with the idea of fame or popularity. I'm just better at tacking on more analogies. ;)

In four months, I'm going to be thirty years old.

Today, my soon to be husband is laying in bed fighting off a cold.

Today I realized I'm also an adult.

I've been working a steady job for four years now. No signs of being fired or laid off. I've got health insurance and vacation hours. I hate my job most days, like my co-workers and still manage to drag myself out of bed every morning at the same time.

I own a car. This was unheard of in my younger years. I actually, physically own a vehicle of transport. I am solely responsible for changing it's oil, washing it down and tinkering with it when things go wrong.

I live in a house. Okay, it's a duplex but it's got a basement. I have a washer and dryer. I repaired said washer when the belt flew loose. I take out the trash, run the dishwasher and do laundry with increasing regularity.

I have a budget and bills. These are paid regularly. I worry about my credit rating. I've been shopping around for houses in idle time.

I've got dreams and hopes that will, honestly, probably never see the light of day. Novels to be written, comics to be made, costumes to be sewn or cast.

To me, it's odd to have gotten to this place. I lived much of my younger years in and out of pointless depression, harassed by the same people I'm sure we've all run afoul of, wishing for something better without even thinking what that might be. Hell, I couldn't even shower in gym. No social skills, no serious friends and certainly no prospects. Yet I stumbled my way into the closest approximation of a white picket fence possible. I'm doing things my parents couldn't get me to do years ago as a regular part of my day. I suppose the biggest surprise is despite my quirks, neurosis and general weirdness I turned out all right. No big adventures to look back on but I'm no longer begging for meals or living hip deep in the detritus of my life. I stopped going through the motions and actually got somewhere.

All that's left, I suppose, is where to go from here.