People

Writers Are Mean…

All writers are mean. We are abusive, bullying, nasty, horrible people. We are overly critical, judgy, and our standards are too high. We cause crying, anger, yelling, sadness, depression, anxiety, and sleeping problems. Writers do and are all these things, to ourselves, often.

Therefore, why on earth should we allow other writers to do the same to us? Too many times I’ve seen a writer trying to bring another one down. In most cases the perpetrator is doing so to make themselves feel better – superior. You know what makes me feel good when reading another writer’s work? Telling them the good things I see.

I’m more than happy to critique something when requested but generally most writers when they put themselves out for the world to see, i.e. a short story on their blog, or a Facebook post, etc, need encouragement.

Personally, I know sometimes I need the motivational push or someone to tell me it’s not terrible, or something else positive. So I have to assume other writers need the same.

Why can’t we hold each other up and be supportive instead of mean and judgemental? There are a few people I know who like to tear others down and it is clearly based on a lack of confidence on their part. Maybe no one helped them or encouraged them early in their career. I know that even when I or other writers in my community try now, these people don’t notice.

What if they were told the good stuff when they first started out? Would they feel the need to be crappy to other writers today? Maybe so, but also, maybe not.

Think about this. If you’re only surrounded by harsh comments, negativity, unwarranted criticism, and unfavorable comparisons for years, you’re probably going to be a pretty miserable human right? Since, as a writer, you’re going to do this to yourself and be unable to escape it, wouldn’t it be great if someone, preferably many someones, was there telling you what you did right? Saying how you are great with dialog or description, or how your writing voice is so clear. Maybe just telling you they love your stories.

Now what if it were other writers telling you the good stuff? As writers we can’t help it, we value what other writers say over everyone else. I mean, sure, your mom, or spouse, or best friend can say every word you write is perfection but you know they love you and that makes their credibility a little shaky (even if they are correct). When someone else who practices your craft gives you positive feedback, WHAM, it hits you in the ego in the best sort of way. Little tendrils of goodness invade your subconscious…maybe I’m not the worst writer on the planet…yeah, that is a damn good sentence…perhaps I can do this, etc.

I believe, as a writer, I have several jobs to do.

1: Write, as often as I can.

1.5: Finish what I start writing.

2: Always try to improve my craft.

3. Help other writers as much as possible.

The third one is very important to me. When I first started writing I was alone in it. One person encouraged me but only as a hobby. I was a stay at home mom with a husband who thought I should never do anything for me. My job was to be a mom and nothing else. Throughout the years I was actively discouraged and ignored when it came to writing. Everything from being told my writing sucked to being accused of being irresponsible for even trying. Once I was divorced and then married again I was the victim of subtle undermining. My confidence was shot and my desire to write was nil.

Then one day I realized something. My exes were A-holes who played on my real issue with writing: fear. I always worried I wasn’t good enough at it, that I was wasting time only to fail. I feared succeeding as much as failing. I was afraid of what others though or might think.

So I took the first steps toward writing regularly. Eventually I married a man who actually wants me to write. I found other writers in my community, most of which were encouraging and welcoming. The ones who aren’t, well, they can’t touch me after the stuff I heard from the exes.

Being around others like me changed everything. Now I write all the time. I have more confidence in what I do and I’m constantly improving.

When I meet new writers, or people trying to get back into it, with fear in their eyes, everything I went through comes back to me. So I step up and try to make them feel welcome. I share my story when needed and always have something positive to say about their work. I do the same for people who are actively writing. All I want is to be as supportive as I can. No one should have to feel bad about writing.

There will always be the negative writers around so I hope my attitude and others who think the same help to balance out the bad things we all have to hear. It takes so little effort to do these little things to help others and everyone benefits.

I’ll save my mean writer side for myself. Speaking of, after rereading this I spotted tons of complicated or shaky sentences and am fighting the urge to fix them. See? I don’t need anyone else to tell me I suck. Maybe someday I’ll even stop listening to myself.

So, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to encourage at least one writer this week. I hope this message doesn’t self destruct!


Photo by Ryan McGuire

Bad Day? Maybe, Probably, Okay Yes.

Well, I just compared a specific human to a tapeworm so I’m thinking yes, I’m having a bad day. Have you ever had one of those days where anger, or irritation, crept up on you?

I didn’t know it was happening. It started with wanting some information. Before too long I came to the conclusion the info should have been forthcoming long ago. A vague grumpiness at the situation developed, then the universe produced a figurative air pump it became full-blown irritation before I had really analyzed what was bugging me.

Some attempts were made to defuse the situation but when my direct question was answered with words that equaled nothing, it got worse. Finally I realized I’d been irritated for quite some time about this junk.

The problem is I despise negativity. I can’t handle it for very long and as a result I either try to resolve issues quickly (too quickly some would say) or I push them away (mostly this one). So I quietly and unknowingly let it all build up for weeks into a just as quiet explosion.

I’m sitting here pissed off and besides some lengthy text complaining to a friend, I’m not really doing anything about it. Pretending a tapeworm doesn’t exist only helps the tapeworm though. Unfortunately I’ll probably just walk away from the situation.

This post sounds passive-aggressive in its vagueness right? I’m not trying to be, I’m simply trying to not call people out.

The point is I let something negative grow until I’m miserable and it’s affecting everything. For example, this morning I decided to work on a quick timeline for my novel. Well, it didn’t end up being anything resembling fast but it was helpful. I found some holes that need to be filled in my plot and I changed the order of a few events. I planned on doing actual writing after lunch but haven’t because I got pissy.

At this point I’m not sure how to turn the day around. I don’t want to wallow in self-pity. My plan is to make some new plot cards and take a look at the story as a whole on a story board and from there I hope I’ll write.

If you want some free advice, don’t bottle up emotions or you might also find yourself comparing people to parasites and trust me, it feels as ridiculous and petty (if a tiny bit satisfying) as it sounds.

 

Apparently I’m Unattractive, Unless I Buy This Product…

The world is changing and some people are having trouble keeping up and/or changing with it. I don’t get offended very often by sexism, stupid comments or ignorance. I just shake my head and move on. Today however I actually reacted. I wasn’t exactly pissed off, it was more like “seriously?”

There was a suggested post on my Facebook for some product that will make you grow/regrow long luxurious hair quickly.  I was a little confused why I was targeted for such an ad since I cut my hair off this year (probably asked and answered). I haven’t looked up anything to do with long hair or hair products of any type, plus I don’t experience hair loss (the ad does not really target this, it barely mentions hair loss). Normally I ignore ads on FB unless they are writing related but this one grabbed my attention.

BS

Really? I had an irritated moment. I immediately thought “I don’t give a shit what 93% of men prefer.” Then I laughed. I clicked on the ad and it got even more ridiculous. Besides the misspellings there was only bold unsubstantiated claims and ego wrenching statements. The first line of the ‘article’ said that a woman’s hair is her livleyhood. Yes spelled that way. Then added:

According to a recent survery 93% of men agreed that a women’s hair is the most important attribute over all others.

Again, yes with the spelling. The reader is called girlfriend, which implies it’s written by a woman (for shame) and apparently researchers were stunned by the results. FFS people. It’s offensive that they are saying most men won’t find me attractive unless I use their product and grow my hair long. It’s more offensive that they think I would be swayed by this.

Do they think every woman with short hair is going to read their ad and say ‘Guess I better get to growing it out or I’m gross?’ Oh and I better tell my daughter to cut her long hair off since she doesn’t like men. That way she only has to fend off 7% male attention. The ad stated women with longer hair are more confident. GIRLFRIEND, do you know how much confidence it takes to pull off a pixie cut?

I don’t care what anyone else thinks I should look like/be/think. Ads don’t manipulate me. Not even Jif commercials work on me (choosy moms…). It’s a dumb way to market a product. It’s like saying “93% of women prefer men who don’t wear skinny jeans.” Wait, maybe that’s just me…Ignore that last part and Justin if you’re reading this, PLEASE don’t buy skinny jeans just because I was being hypocritical!

Now I’m not going to lie, I believe it’s probably true that the majority of men like long hair. I hope most women don’t care. My husband likes my hair long or short but even if he wanted it long I wouldn’t grow it out again. I prefer it short so short it stays. I can’t be short hair shamed. Even if it affected my ego I remember what it’s like to have tangles and I’m never going back! How I look shouldn’t be determined by the wishes of anyone but me.

Unfortunately since curiosity got the better of me and I clicked the ad, I will be getting more and more ads like it. They will fit right in with all the other unusual things popping up after doing research for stories. I’m writing about a war with ghosts so you can imagine the kinds of stuff I’ve looked up.

***NSA I am a writer, I only want to know how to make homemade weapons with salt ammunition and how long it takes to drown a possessed person for my book!***

If nothing else good came of this the ad got me writing when I didn’t feel like it. So thanks dumb sexist ad.

Sidenote: If you are wanting longer, thicker, fuller hair and want to try a product like this, go for it. You do you.

Let’s Talk About Social Media

How important do you think social media is to an author? I think it’s a crucial element of self promotion for any author, whether it be one who goes the traditional publishing route or indie publishing. Without a social presence people won’t know about your writing. I’ve read many articles expounding on this, including the need to start your social game well before publishing a first novel.

I agree 100% will all that, but what about the downside? Can social media hurt an author? I think it can. Anything and everything you say on the internet is out there forever. All the time trolls comb through various outlets to bring back unwisely posted items when they want to attack someone. It seems like you have to keep all your opinions to yourself forever if you don’t want to have them thrown in your face somewhere down the road.

On the flip side of that, what about those people who post mean comments or attack people and defend their actions by saying it’s their own personal Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/etc, they can say what they want. Can they? Yes. Should they? I guess that depends on that down the road issue. I had a writer friend who attacked someone on Facebook. I’ll call her Writer One. Most of the others in our writing group were very unhappy about it and an online battle occurred. It began with another writer (Writer Two) telling her that he thought she was being unprofessional and that it could come back and bite Writer One in the butt later. She said it was her personal Facebook and she could do what she wanted. Writer Two pointed out she used is professionally too. After a lengthy ‘battle’ and some name calling Writer One stated if someone didn’t want to read her work because of what she said on her on account then she didn’t want them as her readers.

I don’t mind telling you, I’m floored by this attitude. While I wouldn’t necessary beg someone who dislikes me to review my work online, I certainly want them to read it. Why? Because I want everyone to be my reader! Obviously not every person out there will like what I write but why alienate ANY potential reader?

I know it sucks to feel like you have to censor yourself all the time but as an author who posts online you are representing yourself and if people don’t like you, they won’t want to read what you write. Even if only for selfish reasons it seems like a good idea to keep it professional.

I feel sorry for Writer One, even while disagreeing with her. Hopefully her online actions won’t come back and smack her later but they can. She could be in a position to have to defend herself rigorously for what might have been a single moment of anger and a couple of bad decisions.

For me it serves as a reminder of the double-edged sword that is social media. What do you all think? I’m choosing to be in the public eye so I will also choose to try my best not to tick people off. Pardon any previous rants, except the one about consent, I’ll never apologize for that one.

That said, I still have a lot to learn about the various social outlets. Facebook is pretty easy but can be time-consuming. Twitter is a bit odd to me but I’m learning. Google plus is completely foreign territory but has a lot of potential. I’ve never been to the LinkedIn website. I have an Instagram but nothing on it yet. Reddit, well, I’m not sure I’ll ever really have that one down but I’m trying.

Any favorites out there? Any you feel are unnecessary or you just don’t like? How do you feel about needing to do self promotion?

That’s So Offensive…

Remember when you use to be able to state your opinion online (or off) and not offend anyone? Me neither, because there were never any good old days when you could say what you want and there not be consequences. If you’re going to say something offensive then someone will be insulted. Hell, these days, someone can and probably will find pretty much anything you say offensive. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be able to state your opinion, you certainly can and if you want to, go for it. However, you should be prepared for the outcome.

One thing I’ve noticed, especially on Facebook is the shock and indignation when someone disagrees with another. If you stand on a sidewalk and shout out how much you hate a particular group you’re going to see a reaction right? Why would it be different online?

Logically we all know that not everyone will agree with us one hundred percent of the time. So why then are there so many FB fights with the person instigating it getting upset or confused? How many times have you seen someone do this and say they weren’t trying to start drama?

These people are full of it. If you post something polarizing you will get a fight. People who do this want to argue. They want to share their glorious opinion with the world, but especially with those who disagree. If you start a status with: “I know this is going to upset some people but I don’t care,” or pop in an: “If you don’t like it (or agree) you can unfriend me,” then you know what the outcome will be. Doing this is like adding on: “Bless her heart,” to the end of a nasty statement so you can say something whatever you want about another person without sounding mean. Besides, there are easier ways to make sure you’re only surrounded by people who agree with you.

You know what you’re doing, don’t pretend otherwise. Do you have the right to argue on your own personal Facebook or others’? Of course you do. Should you? That’s up to you to decide. Does it bother me? Actually no, unless you pretend like you weren’t trying to fight. Taking up the innocent person standard while waving a flag of war invalidates your argument for me. The point is, if you want to be confrontational and challenging, do so, but at least call it what it is.

Obviously this is MY opinion and I know a few people who would be offended by it. I’ll apologize now for provoking anyone. No, wait, I knew exactly what I was doing when I wrote it. Bless your heart.


Is anyone offended that I chose ‘me neither’ over ‘me either?”

A Sad Phone Call

I was sitting at my desk trying to find the motivation/inspiration to write when my cell phone rang. It was an old friend I hadn’t talked to in a while. Guilt set in instantly because the last time he called I was lying down and my phone was across the room. I was in too much pain to get up so I didn’t. Later I saw who called but I had to pick up my daughter from work so I put off returning the call.

Since being on all these medication and thanks to some weirdness with my thyroid, my short-term memory is awful. I kept forgetting to call back, for two weeks. I occasionally thought about it but was always too busy until it got to the point where it was completely forgotten, until the phone rang last night. This was bad because we only talk about once every six months or so. I felt awful!

When I answered I planned to tell my friend I was sorry and how he knows my memory is crap, etc, but I never got the chance. I said “hello” and he said “what are you doing”, I said “nothing much how about you” – which is how all our conversations begin. He said “I’m dying.”

I don’t know how long the silence from me lasted before I finally blurted out: “What are you talking about?” He calmly explained to me that he had a tumor and there were words like: ‘surgery’ and ‘chemo’ and phrases like: ‘moved into my lungs’ and ‘compromised immune system’. It felt like his words were bouncing around in my head and wouldn’t settle down enough for me to comprehend. Even now I don’t really know everything he said to me.

I was floored and hardly said anything at first. I eventually spouted out some standard crap, you know, the ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I hope they are wrong’ — junk people say when they don’t know what to say. Most of it I followed up with “I know it’s ridiculous for me to say that.”

I asked when he was having surgery and it turns out he’ll be in the hospital at the same time I go out of town for two weeks. I feel like the worst person ever. Right when he needs to be surrounded by friends I’ll be gone. When I get back I’ll going through the process of preparing for and having surgery myself and won’t be available much then either. It’s been so long since I’ve talked to him that he doesn’t know about any of that and I don’t know if I should tell him or not. He’ll worry but I want him to why I’ll be m.i.a. Lost time can never be found again. I’m completely at a loss about what to do.

I don’t know what I really wanted to say when I started typing this. Maybe I needed to get it off my chest. I do know that I wish I had answered the phone two weeks ago (when he got his diagnosis) or called back right away. I wish when we did finally talk that I had handled it better. By the end of the call I had him laughing, which is good because he sounded determined to stick with his out of character calm tone, but I feel like I should have done more. I guess all I can do now is be there for my friend as much as I can.

Pardon my long winded rambling.

The Making Of An Introvert

When I was young I was a show-off. I was almost a class clown but not quite. Being the baby of the family, I couldn’t really help myself. I loved attention and would go to ridiculous lengths to get it.

I have many examples. When I decided I was going to learn to play the trumpet I practiced all the time, in my driveway. My neighbors were probably extremely grateful when I finally got good at it. Once I dragged a milk crate full of very heavy petrified wood to school for show and tell because no one else even knew what it was. Talk about a terrible decision! My classmates were suitably impressed but I was exhausted by the time I got to school and even more worn out by the time I got home.

If I could have been any superhero ever, it would have been Storm. I spent many hours running up and down the block pretending to fly. Somehow I managed to do this loudly. Of course when my best friends and I decided to lip sync and dance for the talent show we practiced in the front yard for weeks to music that I now think is awful.

Eventually I stopped wanting all eyes on me, especially after the last time I consciously tried to show off. I was riding my semi-new bike practicing the no hands method of steering. I was actually really good at it. I noticed all the neighborhood kids were outside and since I was the best at the trick I decided to subtly educate everyone else. Finishing up, I had almost reached my house when several kids and their parents started yelling at me. I was confused because I was already looking at them. I would have asked what they were screaming about but at that moment I connected with the side mirror of my next door neighbor’s extremely large truck, with my face.

You know, the kind that are about a foot tall and stick out really far from the vehicle. I was knocked back really far and my bike kept going, straight as could be past at least three houses. Man that was painful! It even hurt my pride. Imagine the scene, most of my neighbors crowding around me while I lay in the street dazed and embarrassed. I let someone help me up and I staggered to my house and shut the door. Someone put my bike on the porch and everyone left me alone. I was pretty beat up and it sucked to have to tell my two older brothers what happened. And for the curious, yes they bring it up every few years at family gatherings.

I’m pretty sure I started down the road to becoming an introvert that day. I also kept my hands firmly on the handles when riding my back forever after.

It didn’t take me long to start withdrawing into myself. I quit band and track and basketball within a year. I became reserved and bordered on shy for a while. I got over the shy and stayed reserved. I avoided anything and everything that would put me in the spotlight. Anything to keep from getting embarrassed. I don’t know why one dumb move as child affected me so profoundly but it did.

Deep down inside I was an attention whore for years. How else can I possibly explain all the black clothes and weird hair I sported in high school? I call it my passive aggressive showing off years. Yes, I was one of those kids. The weird ones who dress up to get your attention but get mad when they catch you staring.

I eventually outgrew all that. I’m still reserved, until I get to know someone. Now I see myself as somewhere between an extrovert and introvert.

The biggest issue I’ve carried over from that time in my life is the fear of being embarrassed by my own actions. The fear of trying something new and failing can be incapacitating. It almost stopped me from becoming a writer, but I’ll cover that issue in another post.

I will say when I write something and share it with anyone I am anticipating an oversized side mirror knocking me off my bike.

On the plus side, I’m really good at doing scenes where my characters make fools of themselves. Show-offs are easy to write and creating protagonists and antagonists who suffer due to their arrogance is a breeze.

So was I born an introvert? No way. Am I one now? Yes, although I’m a social introvert. Would I have become one if I hadn’t shown off that day? I’ll never know. Many other things contributed to this but that day all those years ago was the beginning.

Flash Fiction – What Lives Under The Bridge?

Sam planned carefully. He would say the most intelligent things ever said. He would show them all his opinion carried more weight than the idiot on center stage. His comments were more important. The sword of his words would impale the other jerk and leave her bleeding.

With each new sentence he would bully the bully who had dared to contradict him. How dare her call him immature for stating his opinion. He stamped down the guilt that reared its ugly head. It didn’t matter who started it! Sam would flay her with carefully thought out vitriol. She would walk away crying. Such thoughts reigned as he pounded out the words, patting himself on the back for his cleverness.

Wait, did she just laugh at me? Bitch. Her comment shattered his argument. This could not be allowed. Quickly he changed the focus, accusing the woman of being the real drama queen. He threw out as many of her transgressions as he could remember. That would put her in her place and stop Sam from losing the argument.

He waited patiently for the response, for the detractor to slink away, tail between her legs, firmly beaten. The notification popped up. Sam nervously clicked on it and read the comment: “rolls eyes.”

With an inarticulate gargle he threw his laptop across the room. He had been out-trolled.


This story is as dumb as the internet fights that inspired it. Now I’m going to go write something about ‘real’ troll who lives under a bridge.


Photo by Ryan McGuire

Writers Are Weird

I was working a lesson in the writing class I’m taking and I had a moment. You know, one of those breakthrough moments. I was making a mind map about why I want to write. I came up with many things that surprised me but one in particular struck me.

I wanted to be able to justify my weird. I’ve been odd my entire life. I’ve always seen things just a little differently than the people around me. I over-analyze everything (I don’t advise this). I add theme songs to daydreams. I bring up books constantly as examples of…well everything.

I often came across as distant. I wasn’t really, but when you’re in the middle of making up a cool fight scene it’s a little difficult to give others your full attention. I’ve lived more in my head a good portion of the time.

I was/am one of those types I like to call fringe people. You know, the kind that like to be in a group but stay on the edges. I’m not anti-social but I’m too busy watching everything to truly participate. I enjoyed this a lot but everyone else tried, unsuccessfully, to get me more involved. Every time someone came to the realization that I was content where I was, they thought I was weird as hell.

One guy thought I was the strangest person he’d ever met because I really truly listen to lyrics in songs. It probably didn’t help that I said things like: “This song talks to me.” Another said only weirdos and the British drink tea!

I’ve been accused of being strange because I read science fiction and fantasy. Or even just for preferring reading to whatever it is that someone else wants to do. My coworkers at previous jobs never could understand that reading IS doing something and no I really didn’t want to stop to talk about nothing with them. The readers out there get that one. Ever heard this while reading: “Since you’re not busy….”

No matter what anyone thought or said, I stayed weird. It’s part of me. It is me. However, when you hear something in a negative light for years and years it eats away at you. I didn’t know that until this lesson. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered if being weird was good. There was some guilt insidiously hiding there. Sometimes it made me stupidly put down my pen. I got over that but there was still a need to prove myself.

If I was this weird then I damn well better be a writer or the weird was for nothing, unjustified. Well frack that! I am weird, and I will wear that title with pride. I will write because I want/have to, not just because I feel like I should just to prove something to someone.

It boils down to most people think you should be exactly like them and if you’re not then you are branded with these terms: weird, strange, odd or bizarre. I looked up the definitions and I fail to see how of these things are bad.

  • Weird — fantastic; bizarre
  • Strange — unusual, extraordinary, or curious
  • Odd — differing in nature from what is ordinary, usual, or expected
  • Bizarre — markedly unusual in appearance, style, or general character and often involving incongruous or unexpected elements; outrageously or whimsically strange; odd

I don’t need to justify my weird, I need to embrace it. I’m a writer and writers are weird. We have to be and if we weren’t then there wouldn’t be so many books out there to enjoy.

So I’ll keep reading and getting way too into music. I’ll continue writing and I’ll always be weird

If you’ve ever been saddled with these labels, well it’s probably true, and so what? What exactly is it that you have to prove? All you have to be is you. Be weird, embrace strange, believe in bizarre. Normal is just a setting on a washing machine anyway.


I’ll call this my six minutes of writing for the day, but it took much longer. Now I’m going to do some writing in 10 minute bursts for a while. I love productive days!

Sidenote: When I did a spell check, frack didn’t come up lol!

Teenager Discrimination

Not everyone believes that age discrimination is really a thing, at least not when applied to teenagers. I myself have practiced it when I worked retail. I might not have accused any young people of anything but I certainly kept an eye on any large group of them that came into my store and I’ve had to ask a few such groups to leave when they started damaging things. What I’m wondering today is, is that fair? Sure it’s fair to be thrown out of a store for behaving badly but what about the being prejudged part? No, probably not.

Today my fourteen year old daughter had a bad experience in a store at our local mall. It was a party supply store, yes a national chain. She went in with a large group of friends, that was the first check off the list against her. It was all girls, add another check. Ten teenage girls aren’t really capable of being quiet so I have no doubt they were being loud – check. In a group of people who large, the ones actually shopping are going to want different things but they wanted to stay together so they went down every aisle. It didn’t really take long for an employee to get so suspicious she had to say something.

Did she tell them they were being too loud or disruptive to other customers? Nope. The exact quote as repeated to me was:

“I hope you guys know this is not a playground, it’s a store and if you’re not going to buy anything we’re going to kick you out.”

A playground. Can you get any more insulting to a teenager? I think not. I know the employee had no way of knowing if these kids were paying customers or not, but isn’t that the point? As a matter of fact, five of them did make purchases, even after being humiliated.

Now as a parent of a well-behaved kid who has rarely done anything wrong in her life (she’s a people pleaser, poor thing), I’m furious with that lady. As a former retail employee I understand, to a point. I think she handled it badly and that perhaps she needs to not work weekends. I, for one, have never been into a party store on a weekend and Not seen teenagers in it.

My daughter also told me the store was actually FULL of teenagers, mostly in groups, so the party pooper in the party store probably has way less hair than she did this morning.

What would you have done in the employee’s place? For the parents out there, would you be angry?


Sidenote: I wrote for much longer than six minutes today and I’m very happy about it! What’s next for me? Why a story about a fictional grumpy, job hating, teenager loathing villain of course.