A New Year Ahead

Remember when 'new year, new me' used to be the battle call of self-motivation? No longer! Now, it's become the hipster thing to often bitterly express the idea that you're about to get the same old assholes or that motivation doesn't start here for THIS wonder child! And the latter? Is exactly the same sentiment just with the one-upmanship of 'I'm already doing it, slackers!'

I get it. Popularity almost always brings out the purposeful rebels. The devil's advocate, despite the dark implication, isn't the bad thing to be when you're on a shaky fence and the grass is burnt on both sides... But let's not pretend that people who DO make New Year's Resolutions, whether they make good on them or not, are tacky or inferior.

I, myself, am often a Monday starter. During the week, I do the best I can but by the weekend, if I need to cheat on a diet or play hooky from writing, I always make the compromise that day one begins again on Monday. It's one of the reasons I don't hate Mondays. Mondays might be a self-imposed challenge but I'm truly motivated, not just to reflect on where the past week could have been improved in terms of habits, but also on re-focusing on what I want in the present and short-term future. It's not a time to beat myself up for failure on some ground.

It's a point of contention between my father and I, who often likes to dwell on a mistake, almost to the point of demotivating any reparations or compromise to move forward. Perhaps he thinks I don't care enough, but stoicism is how I survive. Being already hypersensitive past a precarious point in tense moments, I've learned that humbling myself to a mistake but focusing on the solution keeps me out of the dramatic hysterics zone.

While it's true that the appeal of Resolutions disappeared for me long ago, and namely because of the last paragraph's hard-won status of largely stoic responses, it's more because the time just comes. My start and finish lines aren't neatly marked and I'd be hard-pressed to remember how I'd gone from overdramatic to level headed more often. It wasn't ever a decision. In my youth, I never once thought to compromise the healthy display of emotions-- yet time showed me that it wasn't that healthy for me OR those I cared about, that I was rather adept at being the problem-solver when I carried the demeanor of someone who had some clue of what they were doing. Even revelations like that weren't ones neatly recorded in a diary because by the time I reflected on it, could name it, it was already in my arsenal.

Epiphanies, while instant, aren't resolutions either. The sudden thrill of discovery is, again, more about naming or forming an idea in a way that you can utilize it again or share it with others, the subconscience knocking on the conscience. While all epiphanies don't bear fruit, those moments are stars in the constellation of progress.

Resolutions are vilifed for one particular reason-- when we announce such lofty goals but don't follow through, it can become a spotlight for ridicule, those damned 'I told you so' and the smug population of other failures welcoming you back to the bottom of the tank.

As long as you don't get conned into that mental shithole, resolution yourself at leisure. While I don't announce it with such aplomb, I do use a new year as a time to take inventory, to ask myself if I want the same things or if I could be doing more (or less) to go after what I really want.

Don't be bullied out of your ways by pseudo or serial rebels. It's not really that cheesy. If you fall off the lofty tops of overambitious goals, don't give up. Change tact, make them more reasonable, push the deadline. Resolutions are guidelines. If they're really important to your well-being, enlist a great friend, your doctor, your cat-- whatever it takes, remember that your goals don't have to fall squarely on what you can do alone.

Have a Happy New Year! May it be a year of growth and empowerment!

A Dream Deferred

I still remember in first grade, that time of the year when we were asked to pick a famous figure to do a report on. This wasn't for Black History Month; just a regular requirement. There was the usual list of names to choose from, but this time, I saw a name on the list I'd never seen before and it was a name that called to me: Langston Hughes.

I'd never heard of the poet before, but at the age of seven, education was still focused just on learning how words were sounded out, not on the merits of literary greats. I wasn't even that concerned by the fact that no women made the list. Back then, there was no internet, and books were still lacking that were available to shine some light, more than a flimsy paragraph or two, on them.

It wasn't even a surprise that Langston Hughes was a black man. This soft-spoken boy raised by his grandmother was a great lover of escaping into books, a sentiment that married me to the project, if not the man, more. I didn't just look for the biography, I followed the work-- the famous, the obscure.

While it was clear that his life, the circumstances of birth, were an obstacle somehow, I saw a man that never minded them. Or rather, if he did, his circumstances didn't dull his desire to speak through thoughtfully chosen words. I've seen it in many people since-- Judge Judy Scheinlin, for one. When people speak about them in terms of their gender or race, they are quick to shut it down, to remind people even that it was a selfish desire to nurture their talent, that how they succeeded and consequently became role models was out of their hands.

Without knowing that Langston Hughes was a name engraved in my inspirational log, my nephew Marcus chose him for his own Black History Month project in first grade. I felt the welling of tears, the warm spread of a nostalgic grin, and the eagerness to revive anew what I'd learned and share it with my nephew.

History, literature, art-- it belongs to all of us. In the back of my mind, I wonder if my name will sneak in there. Yet, under it all, is just the spark of a little girl who wouldn't dare to give up a dream because anyone else believed the shoes were too big to fill.

I have big feet and bigger dreams and I intend to leave a few footprints behind.

Not a Binary, Myers-Briggs

But thanks for playing.

I'm not one of those people that tests all over the map. I've always landed in INFJ/INTJ. I've said before that introvert is my most recuperative stance but I'm undeniably a sort of ambivert that is outgoing or reserved without much reason beyond personal moods or situations.

Yet that 'I' is something a lot of artists cling to, if only for that archetype attached to it. It doesn't really fit a great deal of artists I know, the ones that paint in public at sidewalk art sales, the sort that absolutely bask in creation far from solitude. Even someone as 'I' as me doesn't lose all hope when interrupted by a visit from my nephews. I've learned how to write and talk and listen so as not to lock out the potential of shared moments I can't get back.

So, although Jung and Myers-Briggs efforts aren't wasted, I've also met those assignations with rightful skepticism. Like with astrology, I know it's a pseudoscience, not without use, but not one to cling to tightly when it comes to take personal growth (or destiny) into your own hands.

I don't really think Mercury in retrograde is really all that concerned with our actions. If anything, these tests are excuses that have none of the weight of even a menstrual cycle. Which I can say for certain, especially at the age of 37, absolutely affects my moods and ability to be around people. Even that is something I can see for what it is. I'm not always capable of stopping an impulsive outburst, but I'm versed in correcting and apologizing in the retrospect.

Perhaps I could say that the biology of a woman already makes a binary result impossible but impulsivity and moods are absolutely not the sole domain of women. Growth and change are necessary for all humans (unless your aspiration is to be a guest on a garbage talk show like Jerry Springer, where no one has mentally surpassed 12 and not through any valid mental disability-- just refusal to grow at all).

If you like to use these tests, maybe just to entertain yourself with facets you hadn't considered, it's not a bad idea. Just don't be so locked into being the 'Entertainer' or 'Mastermind' that you neglect to take risks and operate 'out of character'.

Out of character is for cookie cutter novels. In reality, there are many instances where a turning point can flip the switch on who we are. Trauma, actually being faced with those terrifying what-ifs and acting in earnest (not just how we think we will)---these are the things that don't fit neatly into astrology or personality tests. Most of us are not one of twelve neat binaries. Certainly, even those strictly developed characters aligning with them usually suffer from lack of dimension sometimes too.

Take the tests. Have fun with them. Measure yourself by entertaining means but don't adhere to anything at the expense of your unique growth. Just like you can choose to perpetuate victimhood, you can choose to break out of an archetype. Some facets you'll retreat to for comfort and that's okay to an extent. Just never stop trying to strive for what is good for you and those you care about. It's not going to be so neatly defined.

It's Not Really a New Year's Resolution, But...

I guess the next round qualifies, doesn't it? I work this last weekend of WinterFest before the UpShift list grows bleak for a while, at least for someone with my timeframe. I'd already planned to devote January to UnSung's 2019 release, as well as that dentist appointment falling smack dab on the first of the year. This will also be the same month I devote myself to sloughing off the winter weight, looking into a doctor who can help me uncover the mystery of why exercise usually means more muscle gain than weight loss for me.

So while it's not a proper resolution, it certainly falls under a timeframe liberated from the crunch of gift making and temp work, a time when I can get geared up for ComicCon and future goals.

I feel the near-sighted trepidation of a busy weekend and the healing of these ornery teeth. Yet in the middle of that, I'm looking forward to going to WinterFest with my family as guests and our sit-in New Year celebration involving wine (the delightfully non-alcoholic sparkling sort for the kiddies) and a slew of board games. So it's not all crunch time, just activities that will require energy I'll really have to reach for.

Yet I see it there, just past that-- the closing of another book, which will be my eleventh. I see the gratifying hard work as I brush up the cover and format it for print and ebook. I see the excitement of returning to UnHeard, my NaNoNovel, to make it into an epic third entry to the world I never named. Only the continents, some of the cities and the smaller elements grow in increasing revelation, an homage to how blurry the world can get on the broad and distant edges. Even my most well-traveled characters are subject to how the world moves behind their backs.

I love how writing is so full of these little treasures of the writer. It's not just full of what we know, but what we reach for, what we want to know, yet still never quite get. Like sand art, we endeavor to create these rainbow layers, but no matter how much we try to pack it tight so the gap doesn't disrupt the sands, disturbances and time always break it down further when it's bumped around.

Rather than try so carefully not to disturb the balance, there is a moment when we must accept that stories are subject to forces that even care cannot preserve. Instead of trying to make the sands cooperate, we must appreciate the beauty of not only what it was but what it becomes.

I truly anticipate going back to that uncertainty. I've never been held back by doubt when it comes to creativity, at least not in this stage of my life. In truth, all through my life, what I've done even leisurely is somehow always magnified by people in wonder of what I sometimes took for granted. From the comics I threw onto lined notebooks in grade school to the fluorescent fairies I hid around the flower shop I worked in, there was always unexpected joy in having what I created for myself spied over my shoulder, the unchecked sounds of admiration for ways I filled my time and calmed my mind.

So why wouldn't I want to find the guts to share it? Truly, the response was worth it, but I was undoubtedly fragile. It took many years to forge myself into a creature that understood how criticism should be taken, to improve myself or ignore it altogether.

Let's be real here (as if I'm ever not) and observe that the 'suck it up, buttercup' sentiment is bullshit. It worked for older generations, for a time when opportunities were abundant, but even in cutthroat competitive areas nowadays, it does you little good. Sticking it out nowadays means it's not healthy to suck up all that poisonous tripe. Those generations didn't have the ruthlessness of keyboard warriors and doxxing that could make or break who you are. We don't need to suck that garbage up. We need to turn it into something useful and send it out. We need to strategize, to build armies, to be the arbiters of our own fate because letting others define us is dangerous.

And, really, I don't know anyone who says that who isn't sitting comfortably in a niche that is working for them. 

Closing on a light note, I love squirrels. Not just watching the silly bastards, but how much their constant bustling seems completely carefree even with such purpose to it. How, once they make it to the top of a tree, they don't just puff up in pride. They look for the next great adventure with no hint of complacency. It's no wonder so many writers consider them a fitting mascot.

Merry Christmas!

Didn't know if I'd find time away from the unboxing of gifts and general excitement, but here I am, ready to write.

It's not the same as hitting up my stories, but I'll take it!

I got plenty of cozy PJs from my family, or what I like to call my writer's work uniforms. All the more a treat since I do put on other work clothes to earn money my newbie writing career isn't cutting... Yet. I did get a spiffy new pair of Skechers from my sis for all the walking I do.

Being an UpShifter is a blessing too. You'd think showing up new to a job would be stressful, but it's actually quite the opposite. Insofar, these places are so used to us and the learning curve and grateful for the help as well. It's always in the back of my mind that even if it's not a job I want to do again, I easily don't have to sign up for it again. Sure, I'd rather write all day, every day, but because it's always a choice, I don't have to pine for the next day off on a schedule that was chosen for me-- if I want a week of starving artistry, I can take it. Or I can work all week because money is great too.

I was upset to hear that some UpShifters don't take it seriously. Some walk off the minute they get an assignment or do a poor job. I hope that this is a rare occurrence since I'd hate for programs like this to fade because clients can't trust us. Luckily, UpShift doesn't give us a bunch of chances for that kind of nonsense. Don't take the privilege seriously and they boot you for good. All three parties-- the client, UpShift and employees-- are protected well from shady practices. This means if the client tries to screw us over, it is investigated as well. No one is immediately guilty but offenders are not given a slap on the wrist.

Still, back to the good because it's too good a day to ruin! I know this doesn't sound so joyous but I have a dentist appointment coming up to get these janky teeth fixed. First day of the new year and I'm looking forward to getting rid of this persistent tooth pain. I'd like to focus on health and happiness again this year. See if I can revive my metabolism, put better fuel in my body, so I can be my best as an artist and worker. 2019 has a lot of lofty plans I hope to tick off so let's get it on!

Christmas Magic

Comparison is often a gauge for how we rank a day. Christmas is one such popular holiday where people have some bias as to what constitutes a good or bad Christmas. Never mind the starving kids for a moment and allow yourself to just go on a personal bias. It's way too easy to ruin your day by virtue of sweeping comparison. In order to enjoy any day, it often comes down to your expectations for it.

And yes, it's often a damning milestone holiday but it doesn't have to be. I've gleefully worked Christmases when my family didn't have anything planned. My childless, single self was able to remove expectations and at least be grateful I was healthy enough, free enough, to work for those double or triple rate wages. We're not all disgruntled workers ripped from the arms of our sobbing family. Work on Christmas is a great way to validate goals on a day where most businesses are closed and most people have someone to celebrate with.

That's not to down on my family. It's often through grief that holidays were just too hard to put on a happy face for. Sometimes you know you're just going to be a wet blanket. Lonely days are great days to find a new hobby. Instead, I'll see those posts about lamenting being single or without family or broke etc.

So why don't he choose joyous times to announce it? Misery loves company? I wish I could say it was that simple. I think I was just being plain stupid (yes, I've been one of those people that does it). Was it some subtle ploy to be included or spoiled? That's likely. However, if you really feel you don't want to be alone on the holidays, start talking earnestly to your friends about plans. If someone has room in their day, ask to pay them a visit. Find a group or an event-- if you're depressed, there are low-key options like concerts or performances. If you're down on your life you may not want a highly social event, especially with the usual round of high school reunion questions where people ask questions they want to brag about themselves.

I get it. The established live-in partner, the steady job, the family-- the less effort the better. However, when you don't have the luxury, don't waste it on the lamenting. 

It's okay to have a shitty holiday. Don't get so low you want to die, but understand that it's okay to not have a social media worthy day to share. Over time, I've even become very private with the quality of my days. I don't want to notice patterns or lock in moods that don't really represent what I'm about. Really-- be at peace with highs and lows but don't get stuck there. It may be a good time to reassess your expectations.

By the way, and just my opinion, it's extremely creepy when people lament being single. Not only is it unattractive, it also tells people you have expectations for a person you think you deserve. People aren't prizes for good behavior. Finding someone is often a side effect of self love and sheer dumb luck. 

Come on-- if you're my age, you damn well heard Jasmine on Aladdin throw it down. She is NOT a prize to be won!

I'm going to have a great Christmas this year. Not only because of gifts but because my family is getting along, we have food to eat, and I wanna see their faces when we finally do get to see them open our thoughtful gifts. No-- this ain't no Charlie Brown Christmas. We busted our asses to buy or make gifts and managed not to stress out or lose sight of holidays being fun.

Make your own magic. It doesn't have to be the best nor does it have to be the worst. I lost my Grandma two Christmases ago (to the day) and my mom two months later on her birthday. I've had hard holidays. It doesn't mean the world stops. If you can't have the best ever, then it may take effort.

Or none at all. Fuck it. Make it another day. A day of rest and reflection. A day of food and sleep. A day of great wages. Treat yourself.

From my family to yours, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Enjoy all the other holidays of your choice at leisure.

Too Much of a Good Thing

Complacency is a common pitfall. You think you want a job where you can where pajamas all day until you realize that freedom often comes with a sense of isolation and your routines, even basic hygiene, just don't fall under such high standards when you really have no reason to be inoffensive. You think a life where you can eat anything you like and not work out sounds terrific until you start getting out of breath just walking up a short flight of stairs and you just don't appreciate food like you did on those rare cheat days.

I remember my dad and aunt both fancied the idea of retirement and it drove them crazy in a few short months. When you find your work fulfilling, you try to 'enjoy' these gobs of free time that you just didn't realize were at least partially fulfilled by that job you couldn't wait to leave. My dad has always loved construction. There are few buildings we can pass in the city of Cincinnati that he didn't help build or renovate. 

I'm glad to be out of retail jobs, for sure, but I really enjoy working around people. Which is an odd thing because I'm not highly social. I do get asked a lot if I'm okay when I end up working alone-- washing dishes, prepping tables--it always makes me laugh because, like one girl said who understood, it gives me time to enjoy my own head-space. I often enjoy conversation, even when it doesn't make much sense or isn't directed at me. I find that jobs where people are around energize me just as much as a solitary work environment.

I'm certainly not alone. Once people are willing to shed old perceptions like Type A or B personalities, or Myers-Briggs analyses, a lot of us find we're more accurately adaptive ambiverts and able to take on different levels of social challenges. It's not weird. It's not quirky. It's not even that confusing. It's 'not tonight, honey, I have a headache'-- same sentiment, different application.

Excess is just as bad when things seem too good. We need certain amounts of good and bad stress to appreciate most what we think we'd rather be doing. Some of us can't even manage to stay away from work even when we go on vacation. True, some people just don't know how to relax, but it's just as true that our work is sometimes our zen. Away from traditional environments like a formal workspace or cubicle, etc., it's possible we're even more curious as to what we might come up with in less formal settings.

Of course, some jobs, especially those that offer no mental stimulation (some factory jobs and so on), we're more than happy not to take home. I haven't always had the greatest jobs, so I can certainly say I know what it's like to be happy to forget. Yet I've also discovered there are some jobs that you take home with you, if only because you truly thrive and grow with it. I loved being a florist. It was what finally pushed me to go to school for graphic design. It was what filled my head with stories and art once more.

I've worked with plenty of people who were suspicious of why I loved my job. Show it too much and some of my bosses suspected I was just slacking off. However, it was because it kept me so busy, because of its unique challenges, that I made it look fun. In fact, I would often have periods of frustration when I encountered problems or messed up, but they just never compared to the joy I found in my work.

Sometimes people perceive a cheerful attitude as too much of a good thing, but I didn't think it applies at all. It's nonsense usually sparked by their own envy rather than actually being bad for you. No, when I say 'too much of a good thing', it's something that comes from telling ourselves an easier life is more fulfilling.

If you have any ambition in your soul, that spark never goes out. I've often repeated the adage that artists never retire, but it's not just limited to creatives. Many of us find happiness is embedded in the challenge of our skills. Even if we believe we have nothing more to learn, we still want to keep showing off those skills, perhaps even enjoying a little praise or awe for our efforts.

I don't know about you, but the satisfaction of wearing pajamas is all the more awesome for the hours you spend pining for them.

Jobs Suck, But We Like Money

My cousin's mom, Lisa, repeated this sentiment last weekend as we were getting off of our shift at King's Island's Winter Fest.

It couldn't be more true. It's why I could never quite trick myself into believing things would get better, that getting to know the same people year after year, people that constantly want to talk about hating their jobs-- I wasn't about that life. So I'd taken a lot of jobs I was overqualified for, just to avoid sticking to some stagnant, joyless existence. It sucked too, never making money to reflect my experience, corporations putting citizens in a position where they are underpaid for their skills, under the guise that they are new and have to always work their way up. Let's face it, after a probationary period, salaries need to be no less than living wage. But capitalism... I'm not saying all of its concepts are bad, but corporations get away with too much shit and it's keeping our economy from recovering. It's keeping struggling adults struggling.

UpShift is a godsend for a dreamer like me. I get the impression that I weird people out a bit. I don't try to talk to anyone, but I'm polite when spoken to. I don't make a lot of eye contact, I stumble on simple words, but I work hard. While, yes, I'm overqualified, I do get to make the wages I'm qualified for even if the job is anything but suitable to my skills. My pain levels have been higher and resting doesn't make me feel rested, but I can work as much as I want then just as easily take as much downtime as I need. I can fill it with writing and drawing and dreaming of a life where my skills are exactly what people want.

It's a wonderful service that gives me hope again. It doesn't tell me I need to follow society's darling model to be worthwhile. I can save for what I need to bring attention to my creative pursuits. I can take vacations when I damn well want. I can work on my writing when I'm on vacation (hello, writer's retreat). 

Baby boomers don't really get it. They think they have to worry about me. Too little, too late, since their excess put my generation here. But no. I found a way to finish college and I found a job service tailored to my life goals. Sure, I'm hopelessly in debt because we still have a long way to go to compete with the happiest countries on Earth (the ones that might tax the hell out of you but make sure that money means never paying for medical care or education)... But I make do. Sometimes I even take a bullet to catch a criminal, which means I took on more debt than I could handle to expose a broken system.

Lol one time, I even purposely made a bogus purchase, just so I could have my bank investigate what I suspected were phishers. I got the money back and they got shut down. Okay, I actually did that a few times, but I knew my bank protected my money and I would get it back. Going through safer channels like police reports usually never gets investigated before phishers can hit thousands of people. You'd be surprised how fast banks can expedite this.

So I'm clearly no stranger to risks. They may not be the smartest, but that's the point of risks--that they may make you look stupid. You still have to believe that some good will come out of them-- a lesson or a blessing, as the saying goes, but acting with integrity and an openness to accepting the consequences is as important as the risk itself. It didn't matter that I might put my own security at risk sometimes. I had a hard life from a young age and that taught me that security is as much as illusion as anything.

Our work is never done. We have this perception of coasting on a victory, but I know that the hustle is for life. Most of my generation doesn't even get to consider retirement so we are pioneers of a life no one can really advise us on. We worry more about our health because it's a very real possibility we'll die of some stupidly preventable disease. Not to mention, our bodies, if they reach old age, will still need to be viable for work.

So, yes, my generation needs dreams. Our Great Depression might be laughed at but our reality is that we can't afford to let people tell us how to live. We have to be the arbiters of our own fortune and luck because the odds are against us. To stay viable and optimistic, we have to be willing to shut out the noise and find our own paths. And maybe somewhere down the line a future generations can dig us out. I hope my nephews' get to live a much better life.

Although, what is 'better'? I don't consider my life a failure. I don't suck at life. I wasn't dealt the best hand, but I have amazing friends and family that came from those struggles. I have people in my life that enhance my optimism and I have these abundant inner reserves that don't let me give up. I am able to be a wonderful role model and deliver my perspective with the power of comfort in solitude yet an ability to adapt and contribute in team situations. I'm comfortable with letting people teach me and generous when it's in my power to teach.

What I feel is better may be a life that doesn't challenge them enough. I want them to know what it's like to be graceful when you need others but empowered to handle being needed. We all want a world where there aren't gates put up that future generations are locked out of, where they at least have the opportunity to climb and overcome. Yet that generation, they will probably be better equipped to handle what left us bewildered.

Jobs will suck, but we'll keep being pioneers of our own destiny.

Christmas Comes

Things crocheted yet another weekend of working awaits. Yet as the work is done, the dream only strengthens. I feel my worlds beckon and it's almost time to absorb myself in those places they offer once more.

I think fondly of my flagship series. I wonder what it can become once I find it a wider audience. It's been the crux of a massive change in my life. Like becoming a college graduate, becoming a published author is something I carry with me always. It's one of those titles I kind of want to blurt out every time I meet someone. I had the courage to turn a long time dream into a medium I could share. I was able to become more than just another person who is writing a book. Not that I'm not always writing a book-- even when I finish one, there are five more in various stages of completion.

Right now, I'm anxious to let everyone see the gifts I made them. Crocheting is tough on hands, time and delicate fingers, not to mention posture. Yet the time I put into it makes me proud to suffer and sacrifice to make these things, to make people happy through what makes me happy.

The creation process is just as much frustration as it is joy. I can't tell you exactly what makes self abuse through creation so irresistible but I'm always looking a few steps ahead, anxious to make it something tangible. There are these tiny moments in there where I perfectly understand the insane magnetism and it must be those moments that make the hundreds of hours worth it. Yet when people use words to say they can't do what I do, I still don't quite understand why they consider it focused or disciplined or that they're too restless. Creation is chaos, turbulence, always transforming. I'd understand it more if they said that taming it is like trying to scoop dry sand with a fishnet. You can eventually pile it up with what you've got, but you'd get there quicker if you think of what needs to happen to make it work better. Wet the sand and the castles fall into place (although honey or glue are a few tricks of the trade too).

Anyways, look forward to a relaxing Christmas and then the return to writing and editing. Castles to build, after all!

Sooooon...

I don't think I've ever pined for writing more in my entire life. It's an odd thing, to be sitting around crocheting last-minute gifts when I start voicing aloud a dialogue between two characters, often going from anger to outright crying. No, I don't mean I'm dissociating and being taken over by angry characters begging me to write them or some other quirky shit young writers think they're being original about. I mean that I want to tap into the story so much that I'm talking to my yarn and wishing it was a keyboard.

The crocheted gifts are almost made and I'm excited about making their new recipients happy too. Yet, my memory, my moods-- they seem to be deteriorating under the wistfulness I feel for my stories. I left UnHeard's main character stranded in her upside down life. I left my UnNamed mercenary as a hot blooded teenager eager to prove himself. I left a saucy erotic and psychologically tortuous tale drafted but unedited. 

This is one of the reasons I've advised before not to panic if you can't write your stories every day. Those burning marks on your soul don't fade that easily. I truly do enjoy crocheting but only the need to make gifts for the holidays made it a priority at this time. My head is just aching to get back to crafting my stories.

Christmas is right around the corner so it won't be long before I dive into my stories' waiting arms and nuzzle the ever-loving shit out of them. I only have a few things left to finish, the holidays to enjoy, then comes the elevating orgy of words I've too long abstained from.

And if I sound overly poetic, then you aren't wrong. I feel like a Moody Blues song. Letters unwritten, never meaning to send. I've been pleading for my brain to accept these changes, both with working weekends to save for advertizing myself and crocheting these gifts. I've been emptying my characters and plots into physical expression but, like reading a list out loud, hearing and feeling it only cements itself into some form of being.

Back to the other things, fueled by the knowledge that soon will come the writing again. And it will be magnificent.

G-G-G-Goals!

Goals.

When people wonder what motivates the super-productive, it can be a tricky one to answer. Sometimes, it's not about the creating so much. I've sat down to write just to stay awake so I could be sure I hear the Fed-Ex guy delivering something because gods forbid they ever knock. Other times, it's just a great excuse to drink coffee and move my hands for a while. Or it's a break from crochet or drawing because my hands are itching to go but the threat of RSIs mean it's time to change up.

Sometimes, it's just a choice I make.

Goals (still here) help. I mentioned before the advertising and wanting to do ComicCon are big to-do's even though I haven't been making much money. At writing. I do take odd jobs here and there that means my fish don't starve, gifts are made, etc.

In some ways, I have too many, but I try not to look at the pile-up. There's the UnQuadrilogy I'm still working on. I have several books started with rough outlines for possible outcomes (one of which actually became a short story instead). I have two comic ideas I've been fiddling with treatments for. These aren't just maybes. These are ones I constantly think about, jot down notes for, all while writing up drafts and editing and the other life-ish things.

I'd love to bottle it and sell it. I'd be filthy rich and could afford a studio and employees and just pump shit out like a factory. However, it's a matter of whatever magic formula appealed to me. Like losing weight, it's not just something you can do for a week and, boom, you're done. To build good habits takes a lot of work and it's always easier to just not do it. Like losing weight. I really need to get back to that, but 'tis not the season when I have much else to do. The fish tank and long walks and running up and down the stairs because every truck sounds like a Fed-Ex truck maintains me for the time-being. The tough part is resisting the temptation to bundle up and eat. When you've got the genetic make-up of a she-bear, this body stores everything like it doesn't trust me not to eat for a while. It's not wrong. I forget. But bingeing is a big no.

It's a mental thing. Yeah, I'm mental, but I mostly mean discipline, fortitude, motivation. It takes patience and introspection. If you think sitting to think is wasting time when you could be doing something, then that's likely part of the problem. Thinking is the powerhouse for action. I can't tell you how often planning and brainstorming for an hour had led to typing 2k/hr for 5 hours of work. I managed a 10K sprint in part-time hours. My usual average is a modest 1k/hr so that's a HUGE time-cruncher. The same thing can be apply to your creative pursuits.

If you have an inner critic, you need some sort of ritual to drown them out. For drafting, it's absolutely pointless. When you are building up an idea, your ego, goals, criticism--they all have to GTFO. They'll have their place, but ideally, you need to stop worrying about everything within 10-15 minutes of steady work. If you have the sort of focus to try for longer, then go ahead and stumble for 30 minutes, an hour, but if you really can't get the creative juices in their own arena and your head keeps getting in the way, time to abandon it and try something else.

If you're stubborn (and I am that too), then it's not necessary to completely throw out your plans, but you will want to change tact. I've posted quite a few helpful ways to dabble in writing-related planning, including map-making, character sheets, blogging, updating social media or websites, mind-mapping, brain-storming, Venn Diagrams, eating, drinking, sleeping...

A common area that writers can forget. If you're a busy person, it's even easy to miss how important those things are to how useful your brain and body are. Eat, drink, sleep. Lots of water and, yes, it will make you pee a lot. There's a rule that I broke for years; you know, the thing video game warnings used to print out? You need a 10 minute break from sedentary work every hour. Having to get up to pee is a great excuse. If you find it too distracting, take a notebook with you (or keep it in the bathroom) and jot things down. I've similarly done yoga stretches or made food to eat while attacking a notepad. You think your art suffers for interruptions, wait until your body slows down after prolonged abuse. You could be looking at months, even years where just sitting up in bed is a chore. It's not just an old people problem-- it's a danger in an era of technological convenience.

It's really not necessary to keep lists like I do, but it doesn't hurt. If you just tend to forget, then setting alarms and making lists are good habits to start. 

Sure, it's tough. All of it. Typing fast, pounding out ideas, those are very hard won advantages to working efficiently, trial and error. It's messy. It's less messy once you build up your arsenal, but if what you want is to actually work on those ideas you're wistful to put to work, then you need goals. You need to devote time, however small. You need to plan what resources will make you more efficient. You need to have actual things to look forward to (like getting a booth and ComicCon, planning giveaways, paying for advertising).

Speaking of which, I'm hearing a lot of writers downing on paid advertising, yet some of my more successful writer friends are always drumming up interest in promotional materials, giveaways and... paid ads. I would, however, warn everyone not to dump hundreds into ad-campaigns, no matter how much of a 'deal' it's advertised to be. Start at the lowest priced packages and if they build success, then move up through the amounts. Ending up in the negatives because you think more is better is a common pitfall. Stick with something budget-friendly when starting out. This is advice I see consistently and something to definitely consider if you're on a low budget.

I'm Not Colorless

Isms are one of those things I don't like to fixate on in any detail. I look at the arguments and mostly see them crumble into confusion, frustration, and nothing is resolved. Mainly because it involves that stupid human trick of lumping people together based on generic traits.

Learning that "white people" were documented historically as oppressors is something we're taught young in American schools. There was never a time when it wasn't presented as shameful and, essentially, that sort of white guilt was inescapable. Yet learning about any of it didn't teach any of us to be proud or ashamed nor did we suddenly change our moral integrity just based on those lessons. Even learning about history doesn't mean we stop it from repeating. However the indoctrination of perpetual victims does leave a negative impact and if we fall into the habit of taking everything out of context to prove oppression, that is a real problem.

Present day, it seems everyone is just conditioning themselves to be victims of incidents and experiences they've never lived. That isn't to say that slavery didn't exist or that human progress isn't marked by widespread hysteria, but I've seen people widely oversimplify their experience to compare it to a time before laws were made to protect human rights. I also often see people who have no actual friendships with people of other races simply cite articles as if to say "see? I'm not the only one who thinks these people can't be trusted." None of these things actually justify the modern behaviors. We live in a time where people are equally affected by common ailments, yet we're always going to suffer them in unique ways individually. There may be some shared experiences labeled by race, gender, etc. but to assume everyone that can claim a similar trait MUST share another is harmful. We have to learn by meeting new people. They don't have to be your friends, or even acquaintances, but you can't shut yourself into safe groups and expect growth and understanding.

The idea that we just walk up to someone generically different to prove a point isn't what I'm getting at. Friendships are usually come by organically. You usually meet people in environments where you work or go for fun or relax, but do you tend to avoid people? If so, why? Some people are put off when a stranger doesn't smile, but do you try to say hello if they're looking in your direction? I'm not even saying to force it. If you're in a bad mood, you chance injecting the wrong tone or just being scary. There are moments where I'm out walking to think and I'll deliberately pretend to not notice people (or seriously, just be that in my own head that I really don't).

We all have reasons why we avoid people. I tend to avoid men who give a flirty look and mainly because I've been followed or badgered for my number. Yet I have flirty male friends. The difference being I got to know them in an atmosphere I trusted (among friends in public) and determined they weren't predators. Many of us tend to do that these days or we just avoid making new friends because we're content where we are. All the same, I do try to say hi to strangers. I'm socially awkward and eye contact makes me uncomfortable but I don't like to show fear or give people reason to fear me.

Personally I have lived in an area as both a racial majority and a racial minority in my life. Yet it's a bubble that travels only as far as your own senses, no matter how far the whispers try to promise you it stretches. We're all spoiled by the false sense of worldliness the internet can give us. I'm not just being fanciful here. There are many factors like cognitive bias, gullibility, even dishonesty that only supports a selfish need to monetize suffering, that play into why people feed isms. They often have jack shit to do with the truth, the present, or human progress.

What we neglect these days in all this so-called reflection is actually talking to the people we're claiming to know or have all figured out. We're using historical and cultural models are warnings, as broken models, yet we're doing very little to feed modern culture, or practice acceptance, to blur the lines that create these stupid divides. We don't need to preserve 'culture': we keep books, museums, arts, histories, clothing to treasure or mourn human progress. Yet the sorts of 'culture' we need to throw away: ones that practice FGM, secularism, sanctioned oppression aren't being discussed because...

Fuck, this one is so prevalent and easy in writing circles. We get people spotting racism and sexism in compliments. Someone keeps humoring this micro-transgression bullshit and the gripe that when people offend us, we don't feel safe enough to talk back. (For fuck's sake, no one remembers they can just walk away or find help or report people who won't leave you alone.) And it gets into the territory of superimposing bias on abstract situations. I mean flat out assuming someone is racist because you look similar to someone else. Despite the fact that POC constantly try to get my attention by calling me white girl or mistaking me for someone who basically only has the same hair color as me, I have never fucking called this racism, even when I could tell they decided not to like me right away. I abhor that we're watering down a word as cautionary (and dangerous) as racial superiority and outright hate because someone trying to be nice didn't do it the way you think they should have. It can get pretty annoying when you're mistaken for the only other (insert race here) person in the area, but it's not outright dangerous to have made an assumption because you don't know their face that well. Especially when the mistaken identity comes with a misplaced compliment (like congratulating you for what that person did).

Is it at all possible that it's just a mistake? I'm not saying not to be cautious, because people in general can be pretty unhinged. But without evidence of racism, with nothing but a victim complex, can we at least consider that behaviors aren't always that fucking simplistic? Is it really okay to perpetuate a bad mood that you will then take out on others rather than having the maturity to admit you might be taking shit out of context?

I realize that I'm never going to escape the annoyances of ignorance, but I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. If you haven't already, I suggest you watch Trevor Noah's Son of Patricia comedy special. The way his mother taught him how to deal with racism is absolutely priceless. Now, I'm an atheist so I don't "shake things up with the love of Jesus" but the sentiment that you don't internalize it, that you get creative and confuse them with kindness, is absolutely universal.

These 'each race is special' arguments are also negating an entire set of people who are bi/multi-racial. We do live in a time where it's simply time to get rid of all the damn boxes. Don't 'think outside the box', throw the shit away. It's one thing to maintain the knowledge, but much of it is just too broken to keep around. Keep your preferences, your beliefs, those individual aspects of yourself. However, the identity most important to you comes from your actions, your integrity and your ability to adapt and grow.

As the title says, I'm not colorless. I'm cool with you saying I'm the white girl when I'm the only one in the room and I'm not offended by being called white otherwise. What I do take umbrage to are the idiotic blanket statements, the biases, the untested and unknown assumptions used by people who actually seem to be using words like 'racist' 'sexist' and 'homophobe' to cover up their own prejudice and hatred.

I've lived with a psychopath before, friends. People who try to beat you to the punch are often the ones guilty of it.

Or as some genius said "he who smelt it, dealt it."

The Reason for the Season

I'm positive that not a damn person likes being told how to celebrate a holiday, less so that we have to at all. Yet we're always going to hear dipshit phrases like "War on Christmas" and "It's Murrry CHRISTMAS, not X-Mas or Happy Holidays!" herpy derpy durrr and flippy dee derp. Even though the number of Christians is out-numbered by atheist and 'other', as a nation, the rest of us have always humored all of the Christian holiday traditions usually superimposed rather deliberately over the original pagan traditions they stole from.

I love Christmas. I even enjoy the nativity scenes and Jesus songs, even though I was brought up on the Santa side of things, a fact that didn't change even when I'd fancied myself a Christian through this little gap of my life (from around 8 years old to around 15 or 16, but don't hold me to accuracy because my memory of how old I was for anything is not the best). I have no idea why, but I even found something I wrote when I was younger still, maybe 4 or 5, that said "I love God and Jesus." I was probably told to because Christianity was always the predatory norm. I vaguely remember my mom seeing it and me asking who God and Jesus were after the fact and her laughing. Like most kids, I was pretty trusting, especially if it came from an adult.

So the idea that Christian values are threatened has always been laughable. Despite the fact that religion was indeed where morality saw the first written history, nothing actually skewed my morality quite like religion. I actually have a 'friend' or two on FB that often posts some of the most appalling, hateful shit then, in the same breath, justifies it because they're strong in faith and God's love. In fact, my own experience often meant full-grown adults left me crying in bed at night after telling me to witness to my parents or they'd go to hell. This wasn't Jehovah's Witness crap either, but both Lutheran and Methodist branches of plain ole Christianity. 

Any values outside of Christianity are the ones in real danger. You might get the over-reactive Christian pretending there's actually some chance the whole feeding-Christians-to-lions thing is going to make a comeback but aside from singular psychos blowing themselves up in churches (usually more racially motivated than religious), there are far more incidents of Christians endangered or even murdering atheists and 'other' with the justification of God on their side. But of course, these nutcases are rightfully penalized under the law because, thankfully, justice doesn't have a creed and doesn't care who you worship when you harm another human being. Still, Muslims and Jews and atheists statistically have far more cause to fear a world without separation of church and state and it's not because they're wrong, but because the default is always the Christian way of doing things.

While I don't intend to run through my beliefs here, it does need to be said that I've often said 'bless you too' in response because I know when I see crazy and I'm not willing to die to assert my lack of belief in any god. While that may also be an over-reactive example, I've certainly been physically assaulted by someone (rather, someones) who doesn't much like my atheism in their Christian bubble, so I do exercise caution. Much like I try not to offend strangers I run into on the street because you never know which psychos have a conceal-and-carry and are looking for a stranger to take out their bad day on.

These days, even the most reckless and honest among us are picking their battles. My go-to response for the victim complex when it comes to someone celebrating differently or not at all is the reactionary eye-roll. It's well and good to vent on the internet (although I choose that carefully too), but it's never worth it to make an ego-driven argument on the subject face-to-face. For one, I hate violent confrontation. Yelling not only hurts my ears but it sends my blood pressure soaring with the anxiety. For two, I'm not so invested on people appeasing my ego. That's really all it is. I know I'm not going to change a mind made up so the only thing left to fuel it is the need to show off my supposed knowledge until one of us is too worn out to bother.

No one wins these arguments. Or at least no one really ever walks out of a shitty argument feeling good aside from a deluded narcissist who has the superpower of immediately twisting the facts to create a mental victory.

The reason for the season isn't that important. It's a dumb argument no matter how intelligently made. People who keep trying to enforce this shit are battling some sort of insecurity and want to share the misery and that's that. They're probably even upper-middle class people in most cases, with a surface-level enviable life. They probably did exactly as they were told with their entire belief system and questioning it is something they were traumatized against so they panic at the first hint of anything else. I can't say for certain and if it's that bad, they won't dare to look very closely at it anyway. I'm not trying to judge why they find it acceptable behavior, but it doesn't change the fact that the rest of us just aren't that tolerant of it at some point.

The rest of us, we've been pretty damn tolerant. Above and beyond even. Just don't play the victim when you're screaming about Jesus being the reason for the season and someone disagreeing. It's not a war on Christmas. Christmas itself is notoriously salved over many pagan traditions. Pagans managed to take it in stride, secure in their own beliefs. They were flattered, even. Cultural appropriation screechers could take a page from this as well. Personally, I'm flattered when someone tries to copy me. If they do better, then I learn from that too. Really it all comes down to insecurity. Do we sulk or do we exercise some pride that people are inspired by a good idea?

The Christians in my life are all outwardly secure people. I have no problem when they want to say grace or observe rituals that are important to them. They don't insist I join in and I don't ridicule them. The real key to a better humanity doesn't come from assimilation but in being secure in yourself. I won't insult my readers with cookie-cutter simplifications, but it all comes down to being okay with being 'the only one'. In truth, there's no such thing. There is always someone else to share a belief with. But when you're in a situation where you are 'the only one' (and especially learning to embrace periods of actual solitude where you do have to look at yourself), it shouldn't terrify you or send you reaching to recruit someone. Until you are secure in your own reasons, you are the one that is dangerous to others.

Next Short Story: All-Seeing Eye

It's never a bad idea to use the momentum of an idea to propel you where your writing wants to be. After the last post's musings about the short stories built to enhance my published series, my muse played along and I started the next draft of a story that goes into my nameless mercenary's recovery after he'd nearly died as a teenager.

I've always felt that I might have omitted too many of the events that shaped his character yet it's also possible that I'm doing the thing I don't want to do: begging people to like a character. Even if that were the case, I shifted from his adult traits of dry humor and flatline deliveries to the rebooted amnesiac teenager who doesn't really know what to draw from. He's still a little shit and an inappropriate smart-ass but I'm hoping to display more of how his personality coincides with that ridiculous mix of resourcefulness and dumb luck.

I'd purposely made him a character a little hard for most people to relate to, but I found something charming about even his worst moments, reflexes that made him human, drawn from personal tragedy that even fewer people would want to survive. I didn't beg the reader to like him then, but in my doubting writer's mind, I may have avoided some important subtleties that I've later felt could be expanded on, bits that might have made him too unlikable at times. Yet setting out to make him neutral would be an impossible task.

It's not the sort of thing I believe even a content editor would catch. I always make sure plots tie up and I've said before that the story never finishes just because the book ends. Although I like to leave that option up to the reader, sometimes I feel like the ultimate textbook, the canon, since they're ultimately mine, are fine game to dabble with some short scenes that expand.

Perhaps that was another page I took from Stephen King. My first foray into the Dark Tower series actually began with The Sisters of Eluria and I still remember the thrill of knowing that a story was never just confined to novels or anthologies, never more the truth with the internet giving writers every opportunity to share formats they're passionate about.

This is also why I'm not beating myself up about UnNamed. It's a solid story, still using my unique voice and with so much potential to grow, but I'm going to boost their adventures when the whim strikes.

By way of confession, I'll admit now that the Rain Maidens are the most challenging for me. It's not easy to maneuver them when they all occupy same space in a way that doesn't make them improvisational puppets, so I'd like to do more personal windows for them. Brute has a little hook between the first three books. Dolly isn't just that dumb, pretty, naive arm-candy/yokel she lets on to be. I never intended them to be placeholders for a plot device. Even as a woman, I have to admit I have difficulty writing them. Centuries of male-centered literature make it easier to get into the mind of a man but when I must write women, my personal experiences don't cover the more feminine spectrum so I do have to really mull over the creation of a believable woman that isn't me.

That's something I discussed with another writer friend of mine, Matt Roberts. He admitted that he felt lost when it came to writing women, a sentiment that I admitted I shared. One of the reasons why it's tough isn't because women are needlessly complex but because most women are really flexible by nature. We play the what-if game just like men, yet you still often get meek woman in reality that lift cars off of their children and strong women who crumble with the most confusing of triggers. Complex isn't true so much as we're often reactionary to the point that nothing is ever really out-of-character, part of the reason we're sometimes marked as hysterical or irrational when the true word is more along the lines of unpredictable-- the same you'd explain it in reactionary men, for that matter. Yet from an outside perspective, what is seen as 'uncharacteristic' for a man's reckless behavior is often labeled as 'hormonal' in women.

This isn't something just men erroneously do either. I've had plenty of female bosses that have sabotaged my reputation over one missed day of work. In fact, at my last job, I only missed one day, which I called into the general manager herself one hour before the shift. There was a freak snowstorm and my dad's car was buried. There was a foot of snow and it took me an hour and a half to walk there on a good day. It was also dark and still snowing so the roads, which included crossing a highway, were dangerous for pedestrians. Even though I never missed another day, covered people's shifts whenever asked and did all of my work, I was not only constantly reminded of the day I missed but she also intentionally shortened my hours so that I couldn't qualify for paid time off the following year.

Women can hold each other back. A lot. This certainly wasn't my only retail experience where I was belittled by a woman and the times women did it far outweigh the couple of times that men were the culprit. And yes, retail often just sucks by proxy anyway, but it was often prolonged and subtle harassment from women that also led to leaving a job. It's hardly just in retail. Even as a writer, I've experienced other women who are willing to trash a woman who writes about consensual sex or sexuality in any vein. They are the ones quickest to claim that men write more books that they like and that there's something 'off' about women's voices in literature. Women are more likely to defame new women writers or tell a woman what she needs to write to be taken seriously.

I'm not out to bash women, but this is often why it is tough for men who want to write believable women. There aren't many bold examples of honest women in literature. If men use female stereotypes (despite the fact that stereotypes exist because of an overwhelming majority of said group displaying them), then they are accused of molding a woman to some hive mind selection and not delving deep enough. However, women also tend to prioritize the feminine need to know what a character is thinking, which might not be a male writer's interest in how she fits into the story. This isn't to say he's trying to make her a token and perhaps he carefully considered what the minority of women portray in trying to fit in with males: keeping her feminine side and thoughts secretive and displaying more masculine traits.

This is often why women will be weirdly proud of being like 'one of the guys' or why male voices speak to them more. To dismiss traits considered weaker in favor of whatever elitist ideas they are groomed into, where their hobbies and careers are concerned, keeps them from ever being dismissed for having a weaker or, in reality, unique but unpopular opinion. They are more likely to support the sort of gatekeeper opinions that keep women from succeeding, with the excuse that strong women will find a way. Yet articles concerning the practices of male agents, producers, gatekeepers, often show that women who do not perform sometimes degrading acts are not giving a voice, even blacklisted against seeking representation or work elsewhere.

Not just for women, but this is yet another reason I'm for self-publishing. Taking the maneuvering of corrupt gatekeepers out of the equation so creators can get their work through could be the thing to revive integrity in art. I watched an interview with Frank Zappa where he was asked why the music industry was starting to die and, surprisingly, he argued that it had nothing to do with the old guys and their cigars that were putting up all the red tape. He said that those guys, even though they knew little about the industry, were more likely to throw out wads of cash on a whim to give something a try, whereas the hip, young sorts that were coming in were actually damaging the industry. Why? Because they were more likely to decide which audiences to target and what the in-crowd wanted. They were the ones creating elitist ideas that damaged more work from even being given a chance, creating a gateway where they could even shelter perversion and sexual favors from hopeful artists, not just threatening their current work but any future work as well if they thought to refuse.

I've admitted before that low-quality work will also trickle in. So be it. People are also able to post honest reviews concerning scams and cash grabs and vendors also reserve the rights to remove these from their marketplace, often because too many of these hurt their reputation as well.

lol Well, I've clearly rattled off the rails of that post header up there, but I do feel it's important for writers to have honest discussions about practices in the industry. There's also a reason that, even though I've made general statements, I haven't linked articles. I may be exercising a bias, but I've gathered my impressions not just from articles but from actual experiences in popular writing groups and life in general. Before I bring things up, I often think over whether there is a pattern, a frequent recurrence or whether I'm inserting a bias. Even if bringing it up initially was an impulse, the thought I've put into it over time is certainly not just an emotional reaction.

Back to the header topic though, I'm actually writing a great deal of these stories in the first person narrative, which isn't common for me. However, I do think short stories are better for this-- an entire book in first person, no, not for my stories, but I do find that the third person isn't what these stories need. For Drawn to Perfection, I even did a hers/his story so you can see where their experiences intersect yet the very different impressions they've gathered from them.

For All-Seeing Eye, I drop an f-bomb as the first word again. I decided that I like this way of warning people my guy is coming. Whereas I used third person for UnNamed, the first line is from his thoughts. Since the side story is entirely from his perspective, it only seemed like the perfect opportunity to jump right in.

I love being a writer. It's not more or less than anything else I do, but I really enjoy how these ideas form into what they become. I can't say I'm becoming more disciplined where time is concerned but my average typing speed is soaring and my prose comes much easier these days. I find that I'm more able to insert my voice without being too cheesy. I've never been a huge fan of dated pop-culture references to begin with, but that's also something I love my otherworldly fantasies for. When the same cliches and references don't exist, I have to try harder to create those styles and expand on them. No shortcuts, but I can draw some contextual parallels that are more fun anyway.

Now I'm off! Plenty to do still!

Short Stories and Shorter Stories

Even though I originally posted the news a couple weeks ago on my FaceBook page, I'm keenly aware that not everyone (meaning all but maybe two people) follows ALL of my outlets so I like to sprinkle the news over sci-fi-like timelines of no particular order.

Ever since the anthology, that saw published my first marketed short story, came out, I've been wondering what I might do with it after its one-year run is up. More short stories based on it? I thought of maybe making it a three-part story, coming it at a sort of 50-60K novella length. Which I might still spin-off the idea in the future, but I've always had the niggling urge to do a sort of sampler of my two published series but with wholly original entries.

Well, one night a couple of weeks ago, I'd sat down to do a quick outline of one of those spin-offs and within a handful (I'm ableist trash so that's five) of hours, I'd ended up with an almost 10K word draft for a The Truth about Heroes spin-off story. Whether you're new to the series or you've actually read it already, the story follows my star-crossed Bryfolk characters, Dinsch and Seles, and their rather unconventional love affair before they parted ways. (Think Song of Solomon, written by an atheist, and with all the juicy parts uncensored. Also, they're not married and it's not a happy ending.) Because it's a sort of prequel to where the books' events take place, the spoilers are actually few and may give you a different sort of appreciation than the reader that read them in a different order.

Either way, it inspired a new idea-- to maybe write some other spin-off stories for my adult collection. There will be triggering themes, but the playground is still in made-up worlds so it won't be my intent to include any current events parallels, just some nice adult fun. While some of my stories can be romance-centric, it's never the entire reason for the plots, every generic piece revolving around sex. In the same vein, there's plenty of sex. Why? Because I find there are powerful psychological motivations in even the most seemingly casual encounters and it's another layer to our growth as people.

And this coming from an asexual, in case you missed me saying that ever. Despite my own disinterest in a physical partner, I don't have trouble understanding, appreciating, and enjoying the intimate human connections and how they drive people. In the same way that I understand why people embrace religion, even being an atheist, it doesn't mean I don't have parallel drives to balance morals, observations, and moods just like anyone else. In fact, if there's anything I have difficulty understanding, it's how people can enjoy lying. I've never liked the taste of one myself. If I can't be honest, I shut the hell up.

Despite the stick-up-your-ass wannabe gatekeepers throwing sex into the category of literary trash though? Eh, fuck 'em. And fuck the people who are swear-Nazis while we're at it. The idea that I'm somehow simpler or baser or unsophisticated for 'going there' is ignorance. I deal with enough of that when people treat me like I'm retarded when they find out I'm high-functioning. At least until I'm dropping that knowledge. Sure, if I was some kid flexing my rebellious right to swear and fuck, I'll even agree it's tacky. It doesn't change the fact that many adults are capable of using adult themes to a story's advantage. I like to think I'm one of them, but those people will find any reason to be right so I'll let them gnaw on their wheat crackers and call it a cookie.

Ahem, anyways, I've mentioned the idea of UnNamed spin-offs before and I may pick a couple for this teaser anthology in the future. Insofar, the prevailing theme is just adult fantasy, so anyone who appreciates my mix of adult romance and far-reaching fantasy themes will be right at home with this one. If I have to cite any influences in this work, think of it in the vein of writers like Karen Marie Moning and Laurell K. Hamilton, only not so much only urban-ish fantasy since insofar, only Gretel's Gift flirts with real-world parallels. All the same, I'm a woman who likes deep and sexy and supernatural/mystical themes, so that's the nearest comparison I could throw at you.

Personally, I'm a fan of Moning's Fever series (even though her other titles fell flat for me) and Hamilton's Anita Blake series, though that one fell off after the fifth book for me. All the same, they use a lot of investigative themes, who-dunnits if you will, that also appeal to what I like to write, so that's where you'll see my influences. Other than that, compare at your leisure.

The biggest challenge in maintaining a blog is that they're absolutely nothing like what I enjoy as a novelist and it's harder than I make it look to figure out how much to talk about myself, how much to claim any proficiency, how closely I should bother sticking to a topic. I like the organic flow and the rambling here and there, if only because it's a departure from weaving words I care to edit over and over and over again before slapping a price on it.

I do delight in what I'm learning about short stories. I like the way it challenges me to get right down to the point, to cut that beginning, middle and end down from my usual epic build into a complete story that might tempt the reader to imagine beyond it on their own.

So far, I have Gretel's Gift and Drawn to Perfection. Haven't thought about working titles for the other possible stories, but I'm thinking of calling the anthology Sword Romance. No, I'm not; I'm just fucking with you. I really haven't thought of a cohesive title and won't until I've gotten all of them drafted at the very least.

You're welcome to use Sword Romance as your title. But seriously, it's super lame. Probably don't do that. Even if your Sword Romance becomes an international best seller, I'm just going to make fun of the title. Promise.

'Tis the Season

I'm not really the sort of person that gets excited about holidays. That being said, I'm not the begrudging sort that will ever mumble things about them being commercialized, expensive, depressing, 'just another day' etc. either. I've had a few crappy holidays here and there, but I've never gotten to the point where I've ever felt like shaming people for enjoying them.

I do enjoy watching people open gifts I've gotten/made them. I love how excited kids get. Love doing the crafts. Ehhh, not a fan of Christmas music (I was a retail worker too long to get that excited about the month long 8-hour a day piping of the same 30 songs over and over).

What I enjoy now is the time I'm taking off writing and drawing to make Christmas presents. Of course, I'm daydreaming about going back to it and I still slip over to blog or edit a chapter here and there, doodle on the edge of a page--there really isn't a 'break' from that part of life, any more than I can avoid sleep when I really want to work.

There is also the daily workout of keeping an eye out for the packages coming and the possibility of porch pirates, the inevitable Grinches of the season. Fuck those guys in the ass with razor-sharp candy canes. Yet I'm on those notifications and the sound of every vehicle that comes down the street and, hey, it's only for the next week, so I got this.

No Christmas tree this year. Not a sacrifice, though, since having two rambunctious kittens instead is always better. We do have decorations up on shelves they can't get to. We've been doing Christmas crafts and chocolate advent calendars and hot chocolate, so it's plenty festive. Enjoyable, to say the least.

While I'm not the sort to find some inner pool of excitement for holidays, I find that I often enjoy them based on the moods of people around me. When the kids are excited and the sentiment is genuine, I definitely get into it more. The people who are genuinely grateful for the things I make them continuously end up on my list. Hats are usually the quickest make but we're still looking at AT LEAST 4-6 hours of my time on simple hats, with any kind of off-pattern make taking several days. There has to at least be an excited thank-you in the return or it's deflating to have spent the precious time in making it.

On that note, this is why I don't bother with the business side of it anymore. On occasion, I have a couple of regulars that are happy to pay me fair wages for that effort. On occasion, I even gift to them, free of charge, as a thank-you for supporting me as an artist. However, for most people, I do write patterns and encourage them to learn how to make them for themselves. I definitely do not tolerate being told I'm too expensive. Hop on over to Etsy and see where I'm getting my prices. Considering I usually run my estimates right in the middle of the ranges, my quotes were always generous. Why? Because I'm an expert. No, really. I can admit there are some Russian ladies that free-form most of us to shame, but my custom work is original and a work of art so I have always earned the right to charge for materials, time and labor.

Unfortunately, it is also mostly a hobby now. While my art and writing are always competing for my professional attention, crochet isn't something that takes a top spot in competing with that time. I still have yet to figure out how to squeeze in marketing, but make no mistake, I do seriously monetize my work because I take pride in it. I won't undercut or water down a market for a quick buck so I always deeply consider market value in my decisions.

Well, I didn't mean to stray in that direction, but you know, 'tis the season. All four of them. Because you have to know that the creative brain, while also focused, is a ride that jumps the tracks and flies where it will. I don't monetize my blog so you're definitely always going to get what you pay for.

And then some, because I'm a giver.

It Could Be Worse

Sometimes I do delve into the lower sides of emotions and states of mind like bitterness, distrust, and so on, but at the same time, I feel like I should make this clear: in most areas of my life, I am actually pretty content now.

Healthier than I've been in a decade. Amazing friends and supportive family. Published author and diligent artist. Finding work when I need it and able to be resourceful enough to acquire what I need (without selling my body or soul).

All in all, what bothers me at any given time is little more than a past that tends to rise like bile and sometimes people tend to pick at some annoying scabs (as only people who have known you for years can do well).

As a writer, I channel those things to my advantage. When the wounds were fresh, I wrote about those things privately and ended up burning or shredding them. That writing was never about crafting a coherent masterpiece. It was what it took to turn internal screams into therapeutic dialogue. I would not be able to write about them with any success if they were fresh. I don't find raw wounds to be more honest. I find them to be messy and sometimes just childish rambling. In my favorite books, it wasn't the rawness of fresh wounds that made me admire the work; it was always the careful presence of the years they took to understand it after. In truth, even though our bodies and minds are eager to forget raw pain, we can actually conjure up those raw wounds more potently when we look, not just at the actions, but the motives, the aftermath and the way it changed us. We are better able to see it like a doctor might see a wound; rather than panicking with the emotion, we train ourselves to really look at the wound and what it takes to heal it.

So when I seem particularly morose or depressed, sometimes it really has little to do with how things are going. Sometimes it's even the aftermath of a rather potent tapping into a deeply painful writing session. In order to write powerful scenes sometimes I have to get uncomfortably deep while staying afloat. Emotions are messy so getting too deep can be detrimental to the writing. Yet the pull is irresistible so it takes immense mental fortitude to keep drawing the boundaries.

Oh, but you WANT to get deep. Blood on the paper and all! I'll have to disagree. Once more, what comes from spiraling into a mental breakdown or letting a character's pain drag me down, that shit is not even that usable or even great when I read it again. It paralyzes me sometimes, which isn't at all useful to my work. What is useful is how I can recall it fully yet know my place as the writer. To get pulled in deep enough to look at it clinically. To see everything that my characters are blind to. Because even if I'm writing for their perspective, my POV is often ultimately omniscient and I need to not just lock myself into one character's drama alone.

The closest I came to being in one of my series was the presence of a being only called She. It was a feminine presence that watched, but had no form, and couldn't interact with the world. In a sense, I was using her to create the sense of what a higher power would be that couldn't affect free will nor had anything to do with the creation of the world. Although unlike She, I was still more omnipotent in duty to the story and didn't favor her in particular. I really just used her to anchor in the theme of the unknown.

The UnQuadrilogy uses some similar themes, but I do use them to tackle once-painful topics. Doubt, faith, religion, belief, imbalance, the unknown sometimes remaining that way, but not outside of logic all the same.

Wherever I am as a person and a writer? It could be worse. I count myself as damn lucky that I am doing what makes me happy. That I'm not hurting those I love and as few other people as possible. That I get to pursue writing while surviving being an unfortunate generation that got slammed by a bad economy. I was also a teenager in the 90s with some of the best music of all time. I also grew up both in the technological boom and still played outside and rode bikes all the time. Everything is not perfect, but I am satisfied with how I handle life.

As a creative, you'll take a lot of hard blows. Yet, from one creative to another, it's really all about letting things roll off your shoulders as much as possible. Don't neg other writers/creatives. Don't be discouraged because your first book doesn't mean instant fame. Don't use your identity as a crutch or an excuse to give up. The best thing you can do for yourself is take the blows and be thankful when you can say it could be worse.

But don't belittle the pain either. You are allowed to see it as important or even necessary. Just don't ever let it hold you back.

Writing Is A Word Game

Well, derp; of course it is. Yet, with the same sort of irony that infects the concept of any game, some people take it way too seriously and forget how to enjoy it. A competitive nature can help a game, but it can just as easily ruin it for yourself or others when you can't be bothered to look like you're having fun or pitch a fit and place blame... All that not-good stuff.

It's trying enough for creatives to always put their best foot forward, to save their personal grievances for inspiration or private conversations, but there are aspects of writing that we often feel is a requirement to be a successful writer. We try to emulate famous writers, only the reason for the way they live comes down to the fact that their popularity is a necessity for their protection. For the new writers, the little guys, people whose every word isn't mainstream, we need to put more blood in the water. Emulating success without having it does not fool people into giving it to us. We more often have to earn it through displays of humility, confidence, honesty rather than ego, arrogance and overexposure...  It's no exact measure but it still has to be an organic process unique to our own journey. As I've addressed before, one of the worst things you can do is turn against people on your platforms, trying to shame them into supporting you. You're more likely to get unfollowed for that. I'm straying just a bit but ultimately, we put undue pressure on ourselves and forget to integrate the game, the joy, of writing.

No, it's not the Game of Thrones or some other be-all-end-all idea. I really want you, as a writer, to stop being so serious for a moment. It doesn't matter how serious you take your story. For now, consider it a comedy. One thing I find odd is that, despite how easy technology makes it to pop open documents and type and delete at the near-speed of your thoughts, that people get so married to their one big project. They'll insist they can't possibly focus on more than one story at a time.

Guess what? I'm not asking you to start anew. You can just as well take your current project for any exercise. In fact, I learned that the Young Writers prompts, while not a fit for my story, were unexpectedly inspirational. In fact, my stubborn ass went in, fully expecting to decide it was a lame way to procrastinate, but instead, I often found myself more intimately in a character's head, more aware of their nature and their motivation, even their fears over what could happen to knock those dearly held beliefs off axis. 

Don't throw away opportunities to procrastinate, play, or simply enjoy your work. As a writer, I know you very likely have an impressive work ethic and you've got your head in making it the best damn story you can. Of all the people who might ask you to prove that, I'm one less because I know you're likely very serious—sometimes to the detriment of all that impressive effort. I also know that you're going to be sure of a lot of things as an excuse not to try them, possibly because you have better things to do. While you're not wrong, you also know what the onset of a writer's block feels and tastes like and these are the moments where what you need to do is feed the muse, not force them into grueling labor.

I won't pretend to know your muse, but where mine is concerned, there's not a damn thing you can force her to do. Since, like the mythological counterpart, gods and muses and magical beings of all sorts tend to be fans of trickery and deception and too flawed to trust, the same could be said of our own inclinations and inspirations. We sometimes need to trick ourselves with treats and incentives. In fact, you've probably long ago made the connection that mythologies are largely just colorful representations of more modern psychological concepts like our own ego, id and superego, analogies for the intricacies of human nature. No, I don't REALLY entertain an actual muse, but she is a good analogy for what occurs in the throes of inspiration. Stephen King insists his muse is male (mythological muses are always female) but of course it is. The muse is an intimate reflection of your identity. If a woman told me her muse is male, I'd just as well think she is trying to tell me she is more comfortable with ideas largely considered masculine. Oh dear god, don't let this lead to some fucking off-the-wall transmusism... Gendered muses aren't really an important concept, any more than your family would be okay with you sending a cutout of yourself instead of showing up for a holiday dinner. Your muse is yours and not a substitute for showing up in life.

This is what I get for late night blogging. I'm playing games with my own topics again. Nevertheless, rather than go off the rails over and over, I'll just assert once more—if your discipline is a roadblock in your goals, you need to ease up on the way you're looking at it. I might think of some prompts to add to a later post, but for now, at least take away the possibility that whatever doubts attract you to posts like this are sign enough that you're likely looking for a break or different approach.

Treating writing like it's fun is a very short stage. There will be plenty about it where you do crack down to get it right. Don't think every part of it has to be hard edges. Writers are often people with lots of fun unfinished drafts, but that's where the writer differs from the author. The author does trudge through what it takes to publish, to take risks, to finish. But don't forget that your stories could really start to lack character if you're unable to give a shit about them.

Why not apply that to any job? I can't recall ever enjoying a job less through refinement, skill and promotion. Sure, some people get bitter, jaded and hateful, but in truth, it doesn't make you a better person to stick with jobs you hate. It rather denotes a lack of courage when you don't make time to find something else. Even in a shitty economy, there are actually sacrifices you can make for what you really want. Yes, it may mean that life will suck for a while, but if you're really determined to reach for a life that will make you happy, then it's certainly better than being endlessly uncomfortable in your bubble of fear.

We live in a time where you can hate your job but sneak onto your phone and look for other jobs. The only thing stopping you from looking is your own doubts.

Games may not all be fun, but the games worth playing always have higher stakes.They also yield better rewards if you break through.

Or as in the Game of Thrones, you either win or you die. Lucky for you, writing isn't quite that high stake.