Archive for Woman


Posted in Blog, Fiction with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 24, 2016 by Rathan Krueger

I’ve been pretty busy lately, and I wanted to show you a few pages of a script I finished recently. It’s about Emily, a woman guitarist who’s trying to start a Heavy Metal band with a handicap she won’t allow to get in her way. I had a lot of fun writing it, she’s a lot of fun, and I hope you have a lot of fun reading her.

An old alarm clock goes off, glass absent from its face,
ringing its bells like a caffeinated woodpecker. The woman
it’s trying its best to win the attention of currently has
her head buried under a pillow. A feeble attempt to stop the
day. She eventually gives up and tosses the pillow at the
clamor. Or rather, tries to. She overestimates how far the
clock is by a few feet. She then lets out a defeated sigh
and sits up.
EMILY VERDA’S hair sticks up at all sorts of angles,
compliments of sleep. She sits on the edge of her bed, hands
on thighs, wearing a simple spaghetti-string top and pajama
pants. After slapping her legs rhythmically, she almost
immediately switches from being exhausted to being wide
awake, then turns off the alarm.

You’re gonna get them today.


EMILY brushes her teeth while humming the same four notes
over and over. Faster, slower, higher, lower. The fingers on
her free hand, black nail polish chipped, rap upon the
mirror at the same tempo changes. Her eyes in the mirror are
unfocused, yet there’s still thought behind them.
She locks onto a particular tempo, repeating it twice, then
smirks before she spits into the sink.


A proper view of the BEDROOM shows amazing organization
skills. Apart from the pillow slumped in the corner and the
messy bed, everything is exceptionally neat and tidy. Three
other stand-out features are the lack of closet doors, of an
entrance door, and of any mirror. Just outside the doorway
is an astroturf rug.

At the closet and in a terrycloth robe, EMILY chooses
something to wear for the day. Her hair is now combed flat,
and her lips are painted black. She quickly flicks through
hung shirts, pants, t-shirts, skirts, and dresses, giving
some a stroke or two before passing them up.

She goes to a window and opens it. She then licks a palm and
sticks into the world…

Pants and a button-up.

…then gets what she needs while wiping her hand on her


EMILY sits on the counter, twixt the sink and toaster, as
she tosses the last bit of one waffle in her mouth. A laptop
sits on the table. She then snatches another waffle from the
toaster. She tears off pieces and eats them, avoiding her
lipstick. While this is going on, she hums the melody she
came up with in the BATHROOM while tapping her bootheels on
the cabinet.

Until she almost chokes on a waffle bit.

She tosses what’s left of the breakfast pastry in the
garbage, in a fit of betrayal, then briskly washes her hands
in the sink. Her boots make the plastic mat on the floor
click and pop.


Sliding on her armor, a well-loved frock coat, EMILY
prepares to leave her apartment. Next, she tucks a pocket
recorder and a flipphone inside the coat. By the door is a
beaten-up guitar case ready to be slung over her shoulder
like a sword. On a short bookcase is her helmet by way of a
top hat and sunglasses. Both are vertically-striped black
and white, with the hat having a bit more business. The
black stripes are felt, the white are like silk, and a ring
dangles from the brim. A finger can easily fit through it,
which she does as she positions the hat so that the ring
hangs over her left ear.

Ready to face the day, she grabs one last thing: her folding


EMILY walks with a little pep in her step as her cane goes
TAK-TAK-TAK-TAK, making sure that she doesn’t bump into
anyone (while not really caring if she does).

She points a twirling finger in the camera’s general
direction as she taks and trots along.

‘Ello, dear viewer. Emily’s my name
and I was put on this planet for
two reasons: shredding guitars and
bumping into furniture. If the cane
didn’t give the game away, I’m a
bit blind. Don’t feel sorry for me,
though. You’re the ones who have to
see the state the world’s in.

She takes her finger away and continues walking to…


The bell over the door DINGS as EMILY enters. After folding
her cane, she approaches the register while getting her credit card.
At the counter, a clerk waits with a mug full
of the hot stuff.

Ms. Verda! We ran out of white
chocolate last night, but we have a

EMILY stops in her tracks, flicks straight her cane, and
doffs her hat.

I bid thee good day.

Just kidding, just kidding!

Don’t toy with my heart today.

EMILY folds her cane and continues her morning routine
towards her white chocolate mocha topped with whipped cream
and coconut sprinkles.

I’m a wage slave, I have to get as
much harmless fun as I can to pass
the 9-5.

And normally, I’d understand. Nay,
I’d encourage. But I need all my
strength for later.

EMILY swipes her card and enters her PIN as the CLERK
extends the mug.

Oh? Why? Oh yeah, you’re still
doing those auditions. How long
have you been holding them?

Doesn’t matter.

EMILY takes the mug and her receipt.

I’m gonna get them today.

How many are you meeting?

Two, but two’s all I need. Thanks
for letting me post my ad here.
That’s how they found me.

Ah, no problem.

Kayley and Leslie. Gonna have a
chick band.

You just be sure to play your
second gig here.


Who’s ever great their first time

Har har har. I was gonna leave a
tip, but now…

You can’t tip plastic. Besides, you
already swiped your card.

Maybe I was gonna get a few

Were you?

EMILY starts to step away as she sips her coffee, then turns
back to the CLERK.

Do you know Kayley and Leslie? All
I have are texts that my phone
reads aloud.

I only know you because you’re a
creature of habit and this place is
lucky enough to be within sniffing
distance of your apartment.

Heh, too true, too true.

EMILY continues to an empty booth, but not before…

Good luck today, Emily. Really.

She gestures a salute with her mug, then sits. She then
takes a big gulp, points a circling finger towards the
camera, and sets her mug down with a big whipped cream
moustache on her face.

I know what you’re thinking, but
chick bands rock. No, you’re
thinking that other thing and, yes,
I know it’s there. No, no, you’re
thinking that OTHER other thing,
and we’ll never know if Neo
would’ve knocked over that vase.
It’s best to just let it go, I’ve
lost far too much hair over that.
Roy Orbison and José Feliciano.
Drawing blanks? I’m drawing
circles. They’re two of the best
guitarists to have ever lived. They
also found that blindness didn’t
take away frets and chords. Herman
Li is a beast with a guitar THAT HE
like Hendrix! So my heritage has
that covered because we all come
from the same womb. Joan Jett,
Bonnie Raitt, Joni Mitchell, Nancy

She brushes the dairy facial hair off with her finger, then
eats it with a grin.



Rearview Woman

Posted in Fiction, Poem with tags , , , , , , , , , , on May 20, 2015 by Rathan Krueger

In your shell of industry, I see you
Fresh scars of sadness running down your face
Despite your blight, the sun makes you gorgeous
While the crimson ray holds us, I wonder
Obvious that pain has you… but why?
Torment, maybe, from a lover?
Cruelty twisting your heart
Or, perhaps, a sickness?
How I want to know…
But it’s too late
Red turns green
We part

Daily Dialogue: My Nightingale, Part III

Posted in Dialogue, Fiction with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 26, 2015 by Rathan Krueger

From whence it began. Looks like the gals are starting to get along. Well, I HAVE to do something about that… And the next step

An ulcer? How’d you get one of those?

They tend to come from stress.

Not everyone’s a layman. I had an aunt who bled to death from an ulcer one night. Her husband thought she was being a drama queen about stomach aches or period cramps or whatever. Just another reason why marriage is a sham.

Wives aren’t that sympathetic, either.

You’re not helping marriages out, you know.

I didn’t say I wanted to. I’m just saying that wives are as bad as husbands.

What, you’re married?


You WERE married? So, wait, you’re gay and have seen me nude? TOUCHED me nude?

I don’t get off on unconscious women.

Not even when they’re Sarah Mitchell?

Not even when they’re her.

I thought this town was a desert for people.

It is.

And women with sapphic tendencies don’t exactly brag about it in small towns.

“Sapphic tendencies?”

Gay women are called lesbians because of the myth of Sappho. Essentially, the world’s greatest dyke. I can say dyke, right?

You get two uses before I get offended, and you used them up.

Oh. Well, anyway, you’d think that gay women would’ve wanted to name themselves after a goddess. But noooo. They name themselves after the island where Sappho did her deeds.

There’s and island called Lesbian?

Lesbos. The island inhabitants are called Lesbians, and they’re not happy about sharing the name with Sappho’s followers.

That place must be amazing.

Not really. But what’re you gonna do? At least places like Salem, Massachusetts and Hell, Michigan accept their plight.

There’s a Hell in America?

Fox News had to get something right. So, back to your wife. How’d you meet her? Internet?

Not quite.

What do you mean?

I found her online and we sent each other letters.

With stamps? Why?

Her village didn’t have the best internet.

Village? Where was she from?

Somewhere between Romania and Ukraine.

Sounds like mail-order bride country.


You had a mail-order bride? What was her name?


How long did you two… write before you got married?

Almost two years.

Why so long? I thought you could snatch them up immediately.

I thought that people only got married once, so I wanted to make sure I got it right.

When did you see her? After two years?

I never saw her.


She… She… That bitch had the nerve to die on the plane coming here.

I don’t think it was her fault that she died.

It was! She said that she was happy to finally be able to see me and was gonna make me happy until the day I die. Me. Not her. And she died before I even got to touch her.

How did it happen? Terrorists?

Apparently, some people’s brains have a hard time adjusting to altitudes or whatever. She’s one of them, and she’s dead. Selfish bitch.

None of that was her fault, Alessandra. And I’m sure she wouldn’t want to carry her on forever in your mind with so much hate because of a thing she had no control whatsoever over.

The dead can’t want anything, ok?

Is that where your ulcer came from?

Ya think? What was your fight about?

I think I should get some rest. Yeah, I should sleep.

Don’t pull that with me. I told you something, now you tell me something.

I think we should leave it for now.

Do you want me to hit your leg?


Tell me why you got into the fight that made you leave or I’ll hit your fucking leg.

I think you need some pot

Tell me or I’ll smash your fucking leg!

But… You’re a nurse.

That’s right, I am. Which means I know how to heal, and I know how to hurt. I can break a bone so cleanly that although it’ll be AGONY for you, it’ll settle and set nicely. Unless I don’t want it to. Unless I get the idea to… wiggle it. Once in a while. Maybe every hour. Just enough so that all your body’s hard work to make you better is wasted. Do you wanna know how long I can make a broken leg take to heal?

A Drawing of Tilda Swinton

Posted in Drawing with tags , , , , , , , on December 15, 2014 by Rathan Krueger

I thought that I could keep drawing over the weekend, but it looks like picking up the pencil’s a weekday thing. I was worried with this drawing, at the start, because it looked more like a Muppet than a person to me. But then I added details and everything worked out. I did something that I haven’t done in years because I’m bored with the process, but the drawing needed it. Shading and eye details. Actually, I like detailing eyes, but part of that includes glare. Drawing that means there has to be a light source. Since there’s a light source, there has to be shading. I hate shading. But Ms. Swinton deserved it and the drawing didn’t look right without it. Well, enough talking.



Tracey’s Redesign

Posted in Drawing, Dreams and Things with tags , , , , on December 12, 2014 by Rathan Krueger

A simple one today. I mentioned earlier that I wasn’t quite satisfied with what I came up with for Tracey, and it boiled down to her hairstyle. I love the pixie cut, but it was too short for her. I also love Mary Stuart Masterson’s look in “Some Kind of Wonderful” and plan to abuse said love as often as possible. So I combined Old Tracey with one of my fetishes, and I’m pleased with the end result. Well, enough talking.


Artful Nude No. 1

Posted in Drawing, Nude with tags , , , , , on December 11, 2014 by Rathan Krueger

Back to women today. It’s been ages since I’ve drawn a nude and since I wanna show that I’m not a prude as soon as possible, here she is. A model from Chas Ray Krider’s “Motel Fetish”. It’s from Taschen, which essentially means I can buy it at a bookstore instead of a gas station. Anywho, I chose this model because she didn’t have a pose that’d make me quit halfway through. Dita Von Teese is in the book and I wanted to draw her, but see the previous sentence. I also chose her because of her hands. If you wanna see true negotiation skills, tell an artist to draw hands and watch the loops they’ll go through to talk you out of it. Since I’ll be making at least one comic and animated series, I felt it wise if I got over that hand hump as much as possible. The thing I liked about the model’s hands was that they were at rest, yet active. They weren’t the easy go-tos (clenched fists or in pockets). There’s a close-up because I wanted to show that I drew a nose. Well, enough talking.



Lenora Howe’s Character-Building Blog

Posted in Blog, Fiction, Making-Of with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 11, 2013 by Rathan Krueger

[Filled out a survey to help me find the other star of “Nostalgia Season”, Lenora Howe]


Lenora Howe.

What do people call you?

Nothing now.




I’m 5’5″.

Eye color?

They’re hazel.

Hair color?

Black as pitch.

Righty or lefty?

You really know how to be boring. I’m right-handed.

Do you believe in God?


Do you have a religion?

If I don’t believe in God, I can’t have a religion, can I? Jedi. How about that?

Do you speak another language?

Some French and Japanese.

Do you consider yourself tolerant of others?

Yeah, I’m a regular good neighbor. Want your tires washed?

Are you confident?

I’m a fucking lion, alright?

Are you a daredevil?

Yeah, I play in traffic nightly.

What’s the complement you get from most people?

“Nice tits.”

What do you like the most about your body?

My uneven tits.

Do you think you’re good-looking?

Yeah, I’m Vanessa Williams’ twin sister.

Do you have any bad habits?

I like people too fucking much.

What’s your biggest fear?

That you’re not gonna ask any better fucking questions. My crystal ball tells me I just might be right.

Do you play an instrument?

Yeah, heart strings. Drop-tuned to B-Flat.

Can you sing?

Only when I’m paranoid.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

That I didn’t waste my time with you. Or with Maylea.

What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned in life?

That women are as useless as men in relationships.

Do you think life has been good so far?

Yeah, me and Bruce Wayne and Sandy Hook share happy stories all the time.

Is there anything you regret doing/not doing in life?

Living with Maylea.

Do you believe in love at first sight?

Not anymore!

Do you kiss on the first date?

No, we hold hands ’til fucking dawn.

Do you have sex on the first date?

Are you fucking serious?

Do you have a favorite color?


Do you have a favorite number?


Do you have a favorite food?


Do you have a favorite drink?

C’mon, try harder!

Do you have a favorite alcoholic drink?

Four Horsemen with a Long Island chaser. Guessing you don’t have that with you.

Do you have a favorite country?


Do you have a favorite animal?

My cat.

Do you have a favorite season?

Winter of discontent.

Do you have a favorite day of the week?

Gosh, I really like Day-day!

Do you have a favorite name?


Have you ever been arrested?

A few times. Thanks, Maylea.

Have you ever kissed someone of the same sex?

I’m fucking bi!

Have you ever done something you regret?

Maylea. Ugh. I’m sorry. I realize I’m being a bitch. I’m going through some shit right now, because of who… you can guess. I’m normally half a bitch and even then, I have some charm. Lemme try to show you.

Have you ever smiled for no reason?

I used to, but life goes on. With or without Corky.

Have you ever laughed so hard you cried?

Yeah, when Bjork fell off the couch and into her bowl. Bjork’s my cat.

Have you ever sang to someone for no reason?

Nobody but nobody would want me to sing to them. Not every girl’s a little mermaid.

Have you ever talked to someone you don’t know?

I don’t even know what you look like.

Have you ever been in love?

Yes. A few times. And it always hurts the same when it stops. Guy or girl. Animal, vegetable, or mineral.

Have you ever broken the law?

I almost got married to a woman but she… changed her mind. Like Chev Chelios changes heart conditions.

Have you ever been in a car accident?

Almost, when a guy was driving and I had a mouthful.

Have you ever run into a wall?

After every break-up. Do I mean literally?

Have you ever made yourself cry to get out of trouble?

I’m not that clever. Maylea was, though. She used to make herself throw up to get a few tears out. Fucking psycho.

Have you ever cried over a movie?

Yeah, “Gremlins 2”. I can’t stand whenever something bad happens to Gizmo.

Have you ever been so drunk that you can’t remember?

Once. Never again.

Have you ever stayed home from school?

I was home-schooled, so yes and no.

What do you–

I’m sorry. I gotta cut you off. I thought I was but I’m not ready to talk to anyone. I’m gonna go and… and watch something with Bjork. Something violent. Bye.

[What I knew about Lenora beforehand (besides her name) was that she had a cat named Bjork, what her eyes and hair colors were, that she was a heathen, that she was a geek, that her breasts were uneven (there’s a point to that one, trust me), that her lover left her, that she was bi, and that I didn’t want her to be like Sadie]

Give an earlier work of mine a read. It’s titled “Lie”, it’s about four women who go on vacation to help one of their own through a life-changing decision, and its first four chapters are waiting for you. If you like what you read, you can buy it for only $1.99 wherever eBooks are sold. Thanks for reading.