Emerald beards of grass bladed sweet under apricot sky; cotton candy breeze, banana sun and warmth healing forlorn hearts–or tearing them apart. It was 6 AM. Too early for liquor, beer and millionaire golfers but I was the country club bartender. The gated community of Windance was stained with vicious rumors, ego-maniacal fools and blistering women. Mornings were nice–filling ice chests with Budweiser, Heineken and Coors–chatting with the early birds. The older ladies came in scented of coconut sunscreen wanting cups of water with lemon to perfume sulfured artesian.
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Archive for category life personal
Jennifer, author of Writing To Survive has featured me as her February Blog of the Month–please check out the article, it is wonderful. Go visit her and read her work. She is truly a great writer with a distinctive style overflowing in heart, tears and depth–something rare in the blogosphere.
As I told her, I’ve always felt like a black sheep blogger. I don’t feel like I fit in any where–in any cliques and so on. There are many different writing based communities and little groups of writers, but I don’t feel welcome in their inner circles. Many fiction writers are snobbish and pretentious, have stilted opinions of what good is and why some work is garbage. I’m more open–meaning I read all genres and can appreciate everything from romance, erotic noir to horror to sentimental stories of personal triumph and all between. The more fearless of ridicule a writer is, the more I like them. I say write unapologetically regardless of fallout–and your readers will gather.
In high school and college, my literature professors degraded me while bathing other writers in limelight–not because they were skilled, but because of what they wrote about. It really hurt. I was taught that a descriptive sex scene, extreme profanity, first person perspective of murder or cannibalism is both immoral and automatically brands it rubbish–makes it trashy and low class. I rebelled . . . did I ever rebel.
I became an extremist writer. I will never write to be popular.
I often write things other people are afraid to write or disgusted by . . . probably because society says it’s wrong in many respects. I’m really fortunate to have friends and fans who actually read my more questionable content–that appreciate my craft and how much care I place in each sentence, each individual word–even if the story is sickening or terrifying. I only know one thing: I love to write (and read).
Thank you Jennifer from the bottom of my heart for shining a little limelight on little ol’ me. It means a lot and I will never forget it.
Stranger In The Mirror
Jan 27
What do you do after a lifetime of harrowing depression and you feel healed? It’s been a while since I’ve written about me as I’ve been so into fiction writing. This is by far the longest period of time I haven’t felt like dying in over twenty years. This is almost worse than being depressed in many respects . . . like being trapped alone in a strange new world.
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I’m Still Alive
Jan 9
Just in case anyone was wondering, I am still alive. New years day, I looked at my computer and a sick feeling overcame me. I had been writing eight hours per day and warping my brain with plot ideas–I turned my computer off–I just couldn’t bear it another second . . . I needed a break. I’ve been using mind map programs to flesh out plot summaries; between that and just pure writing, I think my brain caught on fire and it took several days to put it out. I may write an upcoming post on how I use mind maps to develop stories and which ones I like best.
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Tacit Attraction
Dec 30
I first met Sabrina in the winter of 2003–accidentally and when I least expected. I spent a few afternoons per week in the International House of Pancakes for lunch, not because I loved it, but for convenience; close to campus and a pleasurable beach walk, becoming a quiet place of solace. I was emotionally shattered–the word lonely tattooed across my forehead . . . was it that obvious?
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I was thinking about how truly thankful I am to have the Internet and be a blogger today. We often get caught up in our lives as well as in blogging itself. We get burned out and we often forget just how great it is to have this incredible medium. Last year, I wrote a lot about this very subject and am purposefully reminding myself how great life is, even if it’s not going well – or even better, how great it is to be alive.
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My new friend Miragi asked me some questions about depression. She is the author of several blogs such as Stitch Witch and Read Between My Lines. I was pleasantly surprised and am more than happy to answer. I am an expert on being depressed and over time, have conquered it for the most part; although, I do occasionally fall in the abyss of misery.
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