It would be great to have words on the fifteenth anniversary of my father’s death, but all I’ve got is anger. Anger, frustration, zero tolerance for bullshit, and absolutely no patience, empathy, or compassion for humanity at large right now. Facts are facts; why sugar coat it?!
While this year held many incredible and beautiful moments for me, it was also a stark reminder of isolation, the absolute fragility of life, and opened my eyes even further to the behavior of those who claim to love me. I have come to the decision that this fake love needs to be eliminated from my life, along with fake friendships which, while they may have been good for many years, no longer hold any meaning or value. There is no need to hold on to people who do not wish to put forth any effort. You do not need permission to let go of people who sicken you; whoever they may be.
The past few months have taken an epic toll on me. I have tried speaking about it here and there, but I have not been met with much support. This left me feeling like I couldn’t share it with anyone because no one care enough to hear my thoughts. This sort of explains my need to eliminate that which does not fit, and perhaps have room to embrace new people along the way, or not. The choice ultimately lies with me.
I wish I had more to offer today, but I don’t, and my honesty on the matter will have to be enough.
“You were born, and with you endless possibilities―very few ever to be realized. It’s okay. Life was never about what you could do, but what you would do. ” ―Richelle E. Goodrich
This year, I blinked and it was my birthday. What happened to March?! When did June end? What’s that saying about how time flies when you’re having fun? It’s a lie; time fucking flies when you’re working on yourself. Period.
I look forward to this time of year all year, but this birthday has left me with so many life-changing feelings and decisions to make. I’m on the precipice of huge things, and the impact of this has hit me hard. I’ve had to stop myself today from multiple breakdowns in public, because the emotion of it all is SO heavy. The goal is to make sure you’re surrounded by the right people. Those who most love you. Those who respect and admire you. Those who will always choose you and have your back. For lack of a better expression, the people who are your team. As someone who is anything BUT a team player, this has been a struggle for me, but I love my team more than they will ever possibly know.
Moving into another year of life is a gift most people will not see today or tomorrow, or the day after that. It’s my responsibility to honor my very existence with gratitude. I’m quite lucky. I know what/who my blessings are. I’m grounded in my strength. I feel like a new person. I feel like the person I used to be, before life went in shitty directions, and took me down to the depths of hell. I disengaged from that fall, but I fell into a different trap along the way. That’s all about to change.It’s already changing, because I’ve recovered my former self.
I am a firm believer in finding your bliss. Finding where you belong. Finding who you belong with. Finding HAPPINESS, LOVE, JOY, CALM, COMFORT, and the purity of being certain. That’s my goal for the coming year. New beginnings. More privacy. More downtime. More calm. More joy. And every other good thing I could ever possibly hope for; not just for myself, but for those I love. These are goals I’ve set for myself. They aren’t what I was thinking about when I blew out my lone candle, but I’m the only one who knows precisely what I wished for, and I tend to keep it that way.
Thank you to my friends who were so supportive of me today. Three, above all else. I would like to thank other people, as well, but I am maintaining my privacy and everyone knows who they are. I love some of you far more than others. 😉
My birthday fundraiser for To Write Love On Her Arms ends in early January (Link is attached to my Instagram page.). It’s a worthy cause, and I am happy to support them for the second year in a row.
I will be back with other views another day. For now, thank you to everyone who worked to make my birthday special. Besos.
Despite having a handful of incredibly talented friends who are also writers, I don’t share my process or progress with any of them. It simply doesn’t come up in conversation, and I won’t bring it up, except to maybe say I’m working on something new in passing. Several are maybe privately producing and not talking about it, and others haven’t brought it up to me in eight or nine years, if not longer. I can’t force conversation out of people, so I let it be. If someone wants more support from me, I’m honestly not sure how much more I can give seeing as how I already do all the right thing.
I have supported any and all new projects they have taken on. To the point where it’s almost ridiculous how blindly I have shown my support, plugged projects and novels, but recently someone asked me, “Who supports you? Who cheers you on? You’re not getting what you give to others.” This came from someone who I trust to occasionally push me, but it also made me think deeply about the lack of support I receive in both my personal and professional lives. I paused. I’m not talking about readers, but my family and friends? That’s a whole other ballgame.
My family, for the most part, does not understand anyone who is not an immediate billionaire doing what they love; what they are truly talented at. This is borne out of ignorance, competitiveness, and their own superficial, borderline narcissistic issues. However, it is their issue; not mine. I am not saying all of my family is like this, but the numbers are too high for me to pretend there’s a majority of support when there most certainly is not. I know the truth. I know how they treat me, and the bullshit that is discussed behind my back. Why would I want support from such creatures?!
Other family members cannot wrap their minds around what I do because they consider it a, “hobby” and think it’s something you do in your free time. 🙄 “It must be nice to have that kind of free time to just write.” Yes, this has been said to me several times. The rest choose to ignore what I do so they can build themselves up. After all, no one could possibly be greater than them. 🙄 They can pontificate for hours on how incredibly brilliant they are, yet you’ve heard not a solid, intelligent word spoken the entire time. It’s not dissimilar listening to a drunk person spouting prophecies on the train or at the train station (Anyone who lives in a major city knows what I’m talking about.).
In the words of the great Tom Hardy who I am loosely quoting, “People ask what you do in order to decide how much respect they should pay you.” There’s an additional part of the quote, but he sums it up nicely, and accurately.
I’m a full-time writer. I don’t get off-days; I have to schedule my life around my writing. I don’t get paid vacation time. I have health insurance. I can pay my bills, and I am beyond grateful for all of that. I win awards. I am invited to some amazing events which provide once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. I am not a newbie. Ten years in, or less, and you had to take classes to explain basic principles? Newbie. Those are facts, and yeah, I’m wary of people who try to force themselves into something, and then the way they try to shove themselves down your throat in a competitive fashion. It is NOT a cute look for anyone. You can gain support and community by being a good person who listens, and doesn’t just talk at others. Consider your life relationships for a hot minute, because we all know someone, or many people, who do this to us. The difference is that you might perceive it differently than I do, or have more patience. I received many chips, but the patience chip is reserved almost exclusively for babies, small animals, and my favorite SoCal Maple Tree (If you know, you know.).
No one had to teach me how to be a writer. It’s honesty, ink, and paper. Every ounce of experience I possess is crucial to how I operate and navigate the business side of being a writer, as well as the creative side. Having a background in Public and Fan Relations, understanding so many different business aspects, and knowing how to nail things correctly the first time are probably a few of the best things I can rely on, off the top of my head. You have to be a natural at it; some skill sets really can’t be taught. I’m not saying that to be mean, I’m speaking from personal experience. I cannot teach someone with no imagination how to magically be creative. There are no magic wands here, I’m afraid.
Roughly five or six weeks ago, an extremely close friend was really proud and excited about how much I have accomplished on my current manuscript. I am getting closer to two and a half months in, and I’m almost at one hundred and six thousand words. That’s not easy. I did a quick draft initially, redrafted, and have continued to polish as I go. What has helped me the most is our constant contact during the process. She has allowed me to share regular screenshots of my daily progress and major milestones. With zero jealousy on her part; only pride and excitement. This must be what it’s like to receive completely unselfish support. <Gasp>
There are days I’m writing between three and five thousand words, and days where I’ve forced myself to write a thousand, and I do mean forced. There are also days where a few hundred words is my limit, and I have to make myself go the fuck to bed since I start writing most days by ten a.m. and don’t always stop until after three in the morning. That is, clearly, a lot of time spent on specific subject matter, and character development. Tonight, I allowed myself to take a break so I could watch playoff baseball. Balance is helpful.
Being able to share progress with a friend who is invested in me, as opposed to when she gets to read the finished product, is one of the most helpful things I have experienced. It encouraged another person to check in with me every few days and discuss my progress, as well. Everyone’s schedule is different, but my gratitude for people who truly care about me, and who choose to make themselves available is proving invaluable. They don’t need a daily synopsis, it’s more like a, “How did you do? How is everything coming along? Do you feel good about what you wrote today?” It is true support. When you know the difference, it’s easy to spot someone who is merely trying to compete with you. For me, there is never going to be any competition. I prefer to be a safe space for knowledge and support. That’s my choice, a choice not to be negative or toxic. Regardless of the path you choose, I hope it is something you can live with.
Enjoy what you do, or there’s no point. And if, like me, you are watching baseball for the next month, let me know who you’re cheering for.
I am functioning on less and less sleep these days, which screws with my day-to-day life, but seems to do wonders for my productivity. Yeah, I don’t understand it either.
My current WIP (work-in-progress) is at eight-four thousand words. I achieved those numbers in slightly over a full month. I put in a lot of hard work, and long hours, which I am proud of. Every day, it gets better.
Obviously, I’ve taken time to sleep so I come back refreshed, but I am looking at this material every single day. Even on days when I say I’ll take a break, I still put a few hours into it, or I do a quick read-through before bed to make sure I like how it flows. I allow myself to cut what doesn’t work.
I’ve written an insane amount of words this year for various manuscripts. People keep telling me how impressive this is, but honestly, it’s a job, like any other job. It’s important to me for anything with my name on it to feel like it’s work readers are familiar with, regardless of the topic at hand. This one in particular is not something I’d considered doing before, so as I write and catch myself enjoying it, I feel that translates to how a reader will catch my sense of humor or my snark within. Both of which would be incredibly hard to miss.
The majority of writers, if they are truly lucky, have a distinctive voice. I am constantly told it’s crystal clear when I’ve written or contributed to something. That is positive reinforcement to keep writing and making contributions. To keep creating. I’m not sure I know how to stop. I don’t like ignoring solid ideas. I don’t like putting things aside to work on what is selling and/or more relevant, but I’m only one person. There are only so many hours in a day, and I’ve been putting in an extraordinary amount of time on every detail. I’ve researched, studied my ass off, and I still do that several hours a day to make sure I’m in the right mind-set. We all need to source inspiration from something, someone, or somewhere. On occasion, all of the above.
What I’m writing is something I have actually lived. That is why I had not written it, until now. I have changed names and switched things around for obvious reasons (To protect the innocent, not the guilty.), but there’s extensive truth on every page.
There are genres I love to pieces, and there are genres which will always sell. That’s something all writers have to factor in. I’ve paid my dues. I’ve been at square one. I’m not starting over. I’m too experienced and too smart to try and diminish myself, and box myself into one aspect of what it means to be a writer. I refuse to go in the opposite direction.
I re-set everything this time around. Brand new playlist. New pre-writing routine. A whole different set of rituals. I want what’s on the page to feel fresh, because it is a story being told in real time. I dated it back a year, but everything else is current, and I like the way it flows from one chapter to the next. When I don’t like something, I go back into earlier portions and write a new chapter, or I build upon something I started, but needed to take a break from. We all have days when the material is never-ending, and days when it lags. I am trying to stay on schedule with the current portions, because some of that material is easier to write. The schedule is my own. I am looking at what I have for October and November, and this should be ready for submission in early to mid-2023, providing I remain on pace. The timetable includes several rounds of editing and rewrites. Right now, the manuscript is pretty clean. Most of mine are.
A genuine benefit of having an editing background is that I see errors in everything. Not only in my own work, but in a brand new novel that just came out, a restaurant menu, a street sign, or a glaring continuity issue in something written for television, etc. I am constantly correcting something, or someone. I am also highly aware I have a terrible habit of correcting people as they’re speaking. Sometimes I do it mentally, but other times, it slips out. It’s an occupational hazard, not an intentional dissection of others. That’s a whole other ball game.
It’s a damn good idea to write what you know, but it’s also important to be realistic about what you don’t, in case you do decide to break out of your comfort zone. The work I have done for the past few years has been, one hundred percent, me coming out of my comfort zone and making myself uncomfortable as hell. I needed a challenge, so I gave myself several. I found a weak spot and I lunged for it like a tiger. There’s nothing wrong with feeling strong enough in your body of work to say, “I can do this.”, and then follow through.
Coming off of a holiday weekend here in the United States, I have been diligent at keeping myself writing. I thought this week, I might miss a few days, so I was tripling my word count for days. For now, I’m okay-ish.
My migraines have reached a critical point where the nausea, dizziness, and vertigo are out of control. A few weeks ago, I called to make an appointment with a specialist who is focused on migraine-related vertigo. I didn’t have to wait very long to get in, which was quite shocking. The first appointment was hearing and vision tests. No hearing issues; I can pretty much hear every pitch imaginable. The vision tests were nauseating, and I have not been the same since hot air was forced into my ears. Initially, there was some dizziness, but I’m less than forty-eight hours out of the tests and have fallen multiple times, injuring myself. The doctor was amazing and very kind and empathetic. We talked about how, if it’s not my ears, then it could be my nose, throat, or a deeper inner ear issue closer to the brain. Clearly, it’s something and not a simple connection. I’ve already been told I will likely be sent an order for a brain MRI. I’ve been begging my headache specialist to order one for far too long, so to have someone run tests and not waste my time is so crucial. I meet the actual specialist at the end of the month, and as long as he has all the tests in front of him, I will potentially start a treatment plan at the end of September, and that’s more than reasonable. I do expect to be sent to a regular ENT specialist, as well, but I am grateful that when I called, there was no real wait time to get started. That’s extremely rare, and coming across someone who specializes in this is equally as rare. I just have to see how it plays out these next few weeks/months, and hope there’s help around the corner. Basically, getting an accurate diagnosis so I don’t end up with broken bones would help tremendously.
What else is going on that I can share? Oh, that’s right; it’s private AF and I might never talk about it. I know some of my friends have caught on, but for the most part; I’m writing. I juggle it differently these days, but I get it done EVERY.SINGLE.DAY. In case no one has mentioned it before, that’s the job.
Let’s roll into Fall, everyone. September 23rd will be here before you know it! Special thanks to all the new readers; I see you. 😉
Hello, everyone! Despite being under the weather, I wanted to take a break from the manuscript I am working on and see what I could bring to all of you fine individuals today. 🙂
Writing is going incredibly well, knock on wood. 110,000 words in approximately six weeks, minus things I ended up cutting. That isn’t a normal or common word count in that amount of time, but immersing the story in so much truth is possibly part of why it’s been smooth. This is the truest piece of fiction I’ve ever written (or read), and I’m sure I’ve said this multiple times. I try not to repeat myself, but life happens.
I am in the process of fine-tuning certain scenes and adding things I intentionally skipped at the start because, for certain things, I need to be fully in the correct head space to write it. Some scenes require more anger, more emotion, more sarcasm (Someone I know is reading this and thinking, “Lisa is NEVER without a sarcastic, witty, acerbic, biting comeback. EVER.” It’s true. That’s part of my personality which 99% of the people I know love about me. Only one person has no respect or appreciation for it, and often interprets the most banal comments AS sarcasm or some form of self-imagined cruelty, when it’s generally just dry delivery. To know me is to know that my sense of humor is a combination of all the different personalities which reside in my head, in a non-schizophrenic/dissociative identity disorder kind of way. I have always been a keen observer of anyone who was dark, funny, interesting, or compelling sense of humor. Ultimately, the core of my humor is dark, and I inherited that from my father, who would be pleased to see this project, and others, going well for me.), more love, more passion, just, something more. We’ve all been there. A writer who instinctively knows when more is needed, or less, is one who knows their craft and knows themselves.
I don’t usually write a project from start to finish. Usually I put scenes together as I visualize them. Creative visualization is especially crucial for fight sequences, which I genuinely love writing. This has been a process of A to Z, and then I read through it and add a few things here and there, as needed. Part II of this project is nearing 10,000 words, and the final part of it is at about 5,000, so it’s clear I took this seriously from day one. You might write 20,000 words to challenge yourself and see what you can do, but you don’t write a full-length, highly detailed novel as a challenge. This story came to me out of nowhere and I ran with it. For me, it’s so incredibly different from what I’d normally write, and that’s part of the love for me. I enjoy the lead characters so much. Their story is an easy one to tell, and at times, an emotionally charged adventure. There is so much honesty in it, so on some level, it’s probably easier for me, someone who has a background in nonfiction, to be able to write an honest story, even though it is fictional.
Some scenes I am working on require a certain level of research so that I get them right the first time. Minor details are big details at times, and it’s always important to be accurate, as opposed to attempting to be imaginative. That’s my process, but it isn’t the same for everyone, and I am well aware of that.
I have another large project in the works and was able to get some work done on that this past week, as well. Basically, I am running on physical, mental, and emotional fumes. My eyes have suffered major strain from 16+ hour days doing nothing but writing. However, it is a privilege to do it, and I look forward to everyone’s response.
What else is going on? I’m thinking more about my mental health advocacy in light of specific events. I have a lot on my mind, really. As so much as I can when I am devoted to a project headed for completion. It’s getting all of my attention and mental energy to the exclusion of much, but those things can wait. When I am not writing, I am focused on my health. There clearly aren’t enough hours in the day.
If you’re wondering what I’m up to in my silence, I am putting a lot of ink to paper. I will talk to you all soon.
I would love to sit down and write hearts and flowers nonsensical prose, but right now, it isn’t where I am. Also, if I ever DO write anything remotely like that, please send men in white coats to do a psych eval.
Life is crazy at the moment. My primary care doctor is leaving, so even though I will be handed off to another physician during the remainder of Covid (Someone to authorize three of my prescriptions a month and handle a few referrals.), I will still need to find a new doctor for post-Covid care. 😦 This sounds like no big deal, but could take 6-18 months in total. I’m talking from experience. It will be my fourth primary care doctor, too. If you’ve been lucky enough to never have to change doctors, kudos to you, but I have lived in many different places and in each place, I’ve needed a new doctor. In Massachusetts, primary care physicians aren’t very good, so this should explain why I am extremely nauseated at the idea of a fourth one since moving here.
I’ve been dealing with self-induced stress, because I am always in fight or flight mode. It’s not a good place to be, but it’s how you survive, sometimes with (or without) lasting damage. I am doing my best to pull myself out of the quick sand. I’ve asked no one for help, nor have I discussed this with anyone. My independent streak about many things is taller than I am, but at the end of the day, no one else can credit themselves for digging me out of my own pain and suffering.
I’ve made some important decisions over the past six months. “Invest in yourself” is the best advice I can offer up to anyone, at any stage of their life, and I am proud of myself for following through on this, and continuing to make investments as I move forward. A few more steps and I’ll be sharing a whole new venture with all of you. One I know will be better at maintaining connection. 🙂
In the past year, I’ve realized connection, in all forms, is quite important to me. I can’t express enough disgust at those who’ve not even bothered to check in or ask if I’m okay. That’s doing less than the bare minimum in a friendship, and I don’t need friends like that. I am not a surface level friend in any way, shape, or form. I like depth, partly because I can talk about anything, but have no patience for small talk. I catch myself tuning out the second the subject matter isn’t of a higher level. It’s sad, really, because far too many people prefer to stay surface level. It’s boring.
When all of this craziness began last year, I reached out to everyone I consider a close friend or family member, and I included a few people I’m not the least bit close with anymore, because it doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring. It was disheartening to watch, as the year came and went, very few people remain connected. It must be nice to live in your own bubble and not care about anyone else (Yes, that’s sarcasm.). I can’t relate to that kind of behavior because, as a writer, I live inside my head, but I do come out to check on those in my world. I don’t pretend I’m too busy or that a text or a few lines of an e-mail is too much work for me to fit into my day. That would be bullshit. I can track how much time I spend promoting on social media, and I can always reduce that time, or multitask.
I am learning that it’s perfectly okay to move on without closure. I am learning how to do this because I don’t aim to come off as a bitch. It isn’t who I am, but am I ending friendships which, if you follow the Marie Kondo philosophy, aren’t bringing me joy? HELL YES. Especially if there’s nothing to hold onto.
Friendship, and all relationships, are built on a foundation. If both of the people involved aren’t doing the work, why should one person alone carry all the weight? They shouldn’t. I will not allow myself to feel guilty for cutting people off. Clearly, no one cares enough to even realize they’ve been cut off, so it goes.
I have to thank all of the new subscribers. It is such a joy to reach out to you and realize I AM connecting with a broader audience. I appreciate all of you. Every time I log in and see new subscribers, I feel proud of what I’ve been doing with this site. Many readers have been with me for YEARS, and I feel blessed knowing I still keep you reading. I’m never 100% sure why, but I do feel that people relate, and therefore, they connect to the things I talk about.
Of late, my time has been spent in rewrites. I am trying to complete a novel for sale. Not because I have to, but because I want to establish growth. I read plenty of fiction (The darker, the better.), but writing it is different. My entire career has been based on truth, and I feel confident in the things I have written which have made an impact on others. I’m not good when boxed into one category, because I know I can do more than that.
I remember, quite vividly, shredding years and years of fiction before I moved away from home. If I think back to those days, I remember trying to develop compelling characters. It was, quite frankly, a never-ending story that I eventually saw for what it was. Thus, the shredding. Coming out of that experience shuddering, and embarrassed, I knew any fictional work I might do in the future would have to grab the attention of the reader immediately. I’ve already got editors breathing down my neck for this novel, so I’ve thrown myself head first into rewriting and developing the characters into multifaceted jewels.
I am confident in how the process is going. Instinctively, I know when something is working and when it is not. I trust my own judgment. Someone recently told me that because I trust my judgment, I don’t seek approval from others. They were accurate in this assessment. I will only ask questions if I’m unsure about something, and this rarely pertains to what I write. I write specific material, but I know a lot of my personality shines through. Sarcasm, humor, and wit, can all be involved in serious subjects. If you lose those things, you lose the individual voice.
Other things are happening, too. I am looking at almost all of it as positive. Sometimes, things occur and I am reminded of my strengths and how much I can achieve. Those are good moments, but we all have to take a step back at times and remind ourselves to achieve without feeding the ego, the superego, or the Id. I have watched people, over the past few years, truly feed their superego and it is such an immense turnoff. I choose not to say anything to them because you can’t talk someone down from that level. It slowly becomes a disease and I’m not trained to deal with everyone’s disease-feeding. Factor in that we all know someone who has reached this level of narcissistic behavior, and they now feel free to share their hideousness with the world. Over time, it is shown for the cancer on society it truly is. Add in closet racists and it’s very easy to see why many people choose to fully back away from society at large.
Wishing you all a wonderful week ahead. Mine involves some stress. I am meeting a new doctor this week (a specialist) and have had the appointment for five months. Before I got an appointment, I waited eight months just to get the phone call! Here’s hoping it goes off without a hitch. Fingers crossed.
Is it really Thursday? AGAIN? My best friend and I say this every week, especially if we don’t get a few hours to chat about what’s going on in our lives. Factor in a seven hour time difference. I won’t lie; there are many moments when I have almost crawled into bed and stayed up because she was messaging me as I was about to turn my phone off for the night. What’s a little lost sleep between the bonds of friendship?
This week took its toll on me. Neurologically, I’m not looking forward to having, “the serious talk” with my doctor next week. But I have to, because everything I’m experiencing is indicative of a stress related breakdown or a possible stroke. When I’ve brought these issues up to both my primary care physician and my neurologist, both of them refused to order tests, deeming them, “unnecessary”, and proceeded to ignore my suffering. I’m putting my foot down and demanding an fMRI of my brain to rule out specific issues.
My mother had half a dozen strokes, and because they don’t always show correctly in women with precise indicators, we didn’t know about them until after tests were run and doctors were shocked that none of them had been serious. I remember the first one quite clearly, because she nearly hit a newly planted tree and I was with her. We both thought she’d had an anxiety attack. I talked her down, got her cold water and a tiny dose of anti-anxiety meds. She said the medication helped immensely, so she believed it was anxiety. Fast forward two hours later when the police showed up to ask her where she’d been and if she’d hit a tree, because some asshole called it in, but didn’t bother to come out and make sure either of us was all right. I have to wonder about the priorities of a person like that. Ultimately, nothing came of it; there was no damage to her car and no damage to the tree, unless you count some earth getting moved around (I thoroughly checked it all before we left.), but as I have thought about that day many times, I am experiencing some of the same brain related issues and it’s scary. Language issues, where I type not in English, but in another language entirely, or where my brain scrambles the words I use in my daily vernacular, is difficult for someone like me, who prides herself on her memory and her skill set. Generally, I type with zero typos or spelling errors, but now, I am having to retrace my steps through everything because I find the most basic mistakes. One has to be concerned about their brain when they are experiencing such troubling symptoms.
A close friend is trying to help me navigate this mess, from another state, and while I appreciate the bits of guidance and encouragement, I also get annoyed at times because I don’t want to be anyone’s pet project. I should not have to fight this hard for proper medical care. No one should have to endure this.
Add in a month long migraine, vertigo attacks, balance issues, and a lot of neck and shoulder pain, and I’m basically a husk. One day, I will have better news.
For now, I thought I’d check in. It’s the equivalent of sticking my head into a room and then ducking out gracefully. 😉
Amid all this craziness, I am doing the final revision on a novel. I cracked 150,000 words, and realize this is an achievement all by itself, but I’m still polishing the diamond (because it needs polishing, and a few more facets.). The character development has far exceeded my expectations and I’m pleased with the new material I’ve written, and what I’ll continue to write as I head toward the finish line. I’ve also done some writing on the psychological thriller, which I feel good about. I chose to do it to challenge myself, and I’m so glad I listened to that voice that told me, “You have a story to tell.” Those characters are developing at a slower pace, but they will get there. In between, I’ve been focused on a lengthy piece about racism and then, I began writing about a few incidents which occurred earlier this week. When I get mad, I make sure I am doing something constructive to get it out of my system, and help others think or look at it from a different point of view. I don’t write anything I don’t feel is valuable to others, so hopefully, upon completion, these pieces will make an impact on someone. Both will be submitted to magazines. I have an additional creative idea for my followers, so stay tuned. I am determined to make major changes this year, and I’ve been doing a lot behind the scenes. 🙂
Someone had the audacity to make it sound like writers don’t actually do any, “real work”, and they, quite stupidly, said it to me, as if that kind of thing is acceptable. Not understanding something does not mean you get to insult it. It’s a good thing we’re still social distancing, or someone would be missing their face.
If this person knew how hard I worked (sometimes for 16+ hours with no real break), with no guaranteed salary, they would be in a psychiatric wing, because what I do is not simple, easy, or lesser. Writing is a high form of art. It’s not black and white. It is full of grey area, and I tend to drown myself in the grey most of the time. I am a writer because I have talent, a voice, and I know how important it is to use that voice on the right platforms, at the right time. I’m not trying to be funny or force humor, which is usually when people find me hilarious. When I’m serious, sometimes people think I’m kidding and they laugh even harder. Other times, I’m genuinely kidding and people think I’m serious. <shrugs> This person doesn’t seem to grasp that if you insult me, I will work harder and, eventually, make you cry for your disrespect. What’s worse? The fact that they don’t grasp that it is an insult to begin with.
As such, I will now return to work. Then I’ll catch some sleep. Wish me luck!
Welcome to all the new readers, and those who’ve been with me for years or months. 🙂 I’m happy to greet you all.
I’ve been working on a piece about racism and my personal experiences with different forms of it, but mostly, I have started to notice just how worn out I am, which lends to me feeling completely useless. I am not sleeping well; and I am trying not to rely on prescription sleep medication because it either doesn’t work or it leaves me with sleep paralysis. I am burnt out, stressed about life and the future, thinking about all of my relationships, etc. I’ve been trying to allow myself the honesty of all of my feelings privately, which hasn’t been helpful, though perhaps I am too close to say if it’s helping or not. I do know there are abysmal highs and lows these days.
I will be taking some brief breaks for the next month or so. I don’t know if they will be obvious or not, but I think it’s necessary and needed. I think it’s time to get my head into some sense of normalcy and keep pushing for betterment. I hope you will all understand the reasoning. I will still be present, but there will be days when I’m not. I hope it’ll be fine, no matter what.
For the month of March, I will be focusing on a few charities in support of Colorectal Cancer and Women’s History Month. I also have my Goddaughter’s tenth birthday approaching. People always say, “You’re way too young to be a Godmother.” I don’t think they understand what an honor it is to be asked to be a part of a child’s life in such a deeply personal way. There is no age requirement or limit involved. It’s an honor and a privilege, and yes, it is also a responsibility. It says something about me, as a person, that people fully trust me with their child.
I will do my best not to be too “out of it” here, but will also do my best to rally. For now, though, this picture near a local trail says it all. I’m walking towards the color, because everything else feels too harming and bleak.
Wishing you all a peaceful week. Bright Blessings.
I intended to write something specific today, but my mood is bringing me deep down. That’s when I know I need a break, a distraction, and perhaps a six month long vacation away from daily stressors and triggers. Alas, I settled for a stack of good books.
When you’re writing about certain topics, it is often good to stay away from reading books on said topics. Instead, I find stepping back, and reading the topic for a while, is far more encouraging regarding how you will finish it, and what the quality of the writing will be.
So, I guess I’m on a bit of a self-imposed break this week. Here’s hoping I’m inspired to do things on my own terms, because forcing it means you’re writing crap. At least from my perspective.
I blinked and it is January 31st. Another mindfuck.
I’ve had a lot to say, a lot to think about, and a lot I didn’t write this month. I’d start to say something and it would irk me, so I’d draft it and move on. In the meantime, I did manage to read over sixty books this month, so it’s not all bad. That’s a damn good achievement. Most of what I read was for research purposes and it will carry into February. The goal is to educate myself on specific topics, and get the information I am looking for while I read. I don’t do a lot of leisure reading these days. There’s a method to my madness.
I had an in-office medical procedure performed last Monday. I’m mostly used to it at this point, but man did it hit me hard. I was in so much pain after the fact, I actually fell asleep (In fairness, I nearly fell asleep multiple times in the waiting room before my doctor came out to see me. The medication I take should have had me wide awake and a little off-center, but instead, I was ready to nap.), whereas after this particular procedure, I often have trouble sleeping. I am still recovering from it (Recovery is approximately two full weeks, give or take. If I didn’t have an autoimmune disease, my body would respond differently.), and also dealing with some new (to me) aspects of Fibromyalgia pain. I get rib pain on my left side a few days before any type of storm hits (rain/snow). It feels like I’ve been stabbed in the back, but if cold air hits my lungs, it makes it so much worse. When I brought this up with my doctor, he blew it off completely and told me my lung x-ray was clear. That was many months ago, and I’m still in pain and still being ignored. I have also since had a really awful sinus infection which required two different antibiotics, so when I talk to him about coughing and associated pain, I hear him not taking my concerns seriously. As per usual.
One of the positive signs, once the state of emergency is lifted (And I have no idea when that will be, as Massachusetts cases are still quite high on the North Shore.), will be when I am able to safely make an appointment with someone new, and fire my current doctor. Believe me when I say my review of him will be honest, but fair, and it might come off a bit harsh, but since becoming my doctor a little over a year ago, he has been predominantly useless on every level. I don’t need any more useless physicians; and no one deserved to feel this way when they turn to a physician for help. More than once I’ve nearly suggested he go back to medical school. I have a Telehealth appointment scheduled with him for February. Since he’s gone back and forth with me, first saying, “We will find the source of your pain.” at my first appointment (and continuing to reassure me over time that this would be achieved.), to suddenly saying, “We may never find the source of your pain.”, I feel justified that he isn’t capable of handling my case. It isn’t my fault that I suffer from something he isn’t trained to handle; but it IS a failing of his medical education. The fact that he has other patients with almost the same medical history as mine is scary. I wonder if they’re content with his treatment or if they are being treated better, worse, or about the same. This is probably the first time I’ve questioned if we’re all getting the same treatment. I’ve noticed some people are being treated better based solely on their insurance. Mine covers damn near everything, so as a physician, if you’re changing up treatment methods based on insurance, you are failing your patients. I see so much lazy medicine, it drives me insane. I shouldn’t be doing work for a doctor. That isn’t right, or fair. I work hard enough without having to do extra work.
I will be making a small list of goals for the month of February. I will choose three, to keep it reasonable.
For starters, I will be supporting the American Heart Association for American Heart Month. You’ll notice the colors change monthly for whatever I am choosing to bring awareness to. Sometimes this will mean weekly color changes. Links are included in case the charity (or charities) I choose is something you would like to give a small donation to.
I chose AHA because genetic heart disease and heart attacks have affected more than 50% of my family members, starting with my paternal Grandfather, who died at age forty of a massive heart attack. My maternal Grandfather also passed away from a heart attack. 😦 I lost my mother the same way, and nearly lost my brother a few years ago to the same genetic disorder. I’ve been mildly assured I am not carrying the gene, but I am wary about it, and worry about passing it down. For all the good genes I have, heart issues are not at the top of the list. 😦 I am doing my level best to be healthier to avoid potential issues. I am determined to be my version of healthy, as opposed to an unhealthy mental version of what health should look like.
If there are any diseases you’d like to see me feature this month (or in general), please leave me a message here, or on any of my social media platforms. I will reply.
For now, I say goodbye to January and hope February will be kinder to us all.