Rant

One Of Those Months

Have you ever had one of ‘those’ months? You know what I mean, a terrible, no good, crappy, problems piling up months. Well I’m enjoying one of those now. It started with physical therapy finishing up and my back problems not any better and shortly graduated to those problems getting worse. I am the biggest wimp I know when it comes to pain so this super sucks.

Then my monitor went out. It was only a few years old and has effectively ended my love affair with LG electronics (although I still swear by their appliances). My husband’s computer started making strange sounds and my phone went a little crazy. Don’t even get me started on the damn laptop issues! Moving on…

A couple of days ago my car started making a clicking noise. It only happened as I was accelerating and between 20 and 30 mph. I know just enough about cars to know this was weird. My ‘oh shit’ meter was maxed out at this point because I have horrid luck when it comes to car problems. I’ve never owned a vehicle that didn’t have something unusual (and expensive) go wrong with it.

My husband and a coworker figured out what was wrong (see picture below). They got a new part and started really working on it, only to find out the part they got didn’t fit, which was the part’s guy’s fault. They went back to the parts place and were told they would have to buy a different part, a $1200 part to be precise. FFS!! I was in no way surprised since this is my kind of luck but holy crap! This car has been so much trouble. (Did I mention I only have it because my last car was totaled when some a-hole crashed into it in the middle of the night and then took off. Great thing to wake up to.) Hopefully we can actually find that part tomorrow, since the auto place didn’t have it, and get the car fixed. I really don’t want to take it to a shop.

Anyway, the point is this month sucks. A lot. But here is where it gets odd. It seems like the more that goes wrong in my life, the better my Nanowrimo prep gets. Pardon me tooting my own horn but this story idea is good! If I do it right then the novel will be great. I’ve been having breakthroughs left and right and for the first time in ages I know exactly where I want my story to go. I’m positive my plan will fall apart by lunch time on November 1st but I don’t care because I can either get back on track or rearrange my handy little note cards and get back to work. I feel like I have just enough planning. It’s like everything belonging to baby bear. Not too hot, not too cold, etc. I really think I can make it work and I’m super excited about it.

Since I’m stressed out, pissed off, worried and all around frazzled I might just say screw Nanowrimo and start writing all the angry, scary, freaky and sad scenes today. Or perhaps some flash fiction that will creep me out.

I go see the pain doctor on Monday so we’ll see how the pain issue goes. If he orders the test I think he will the end of the month will be awful, horrible and almost unbearable since the test is designed to reproduce my specific disk pain. However, if said test goes the way I hope then I’ll be a step closer to surgery, which at this point is what I want to happen.

I’ll keep you all updated. Wish me luck!


20151022_151950  Obviously it shouldn’t look this way.

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?

The Great Vacation Disaster of 2015

Well I survived my hellish vacation. When we pulled into the driveway at home yesterday afternoon I was so happy I almost cried. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all bad. It great to spend time with my husband’s family and the beach wasn’t as awful as I thought it would be (pale skin and beach don’t mix well).

The drive halfway across the country to get there wasn’t fun since I’m still dealing with back problems but it could have been worse. The beach house we stayed in with Justin’s family was so awful it became comical after a while but it had comfortable beds so that was fine.

I had four days of hot sand, cold water and relaxation before it all went downhill. It started with a trip to the boardwalk. I had specific goals since walking for long periods of time was painful. I wanted to go to the large surf shop to buy my youngest daughter a hoodie to replace the one she got there last year (and wore every day – including in the summer), a place that has awesome caramel corn, a Christmas ornament store (always looking for dragons) and Shriver’s to get fudge and taffy. We managed to get to all the above and I found a little shop with dragon goodies. I bought a cute little box that looked like two books stacked and a dragon ripping itself out of the one on top.

A few minutes before finishing up my shopping the pain started. Every part of my abdomen and my back felt like it had been smashed together. Not something one feels everyday but I assumed it was really my back with pain radiating out because of all the walking. We parked a few blocks away and by the time I got to the car I was hurting more than I ever had and I was becoming aware that I was feeling two different kinds of pain. One was my back, which was bad, but the other felt like it was my stomach. I remember thinking maybe I had food poisoning from dinner or something. We made it home and went to bed soon after.

After sleeping for about an hour I woke up thinking I was going to be sick but I didn’t actually throw up. This started a once an hour, sometimes more, pattern for the night. I never really went back to sleep because the pain. In the morning my ‘stomach’ hurt so much I could hardly stand it but I was convinced I’d eaten something bad. I told my husband to walk down to the beach and enjoy spending time with his parents. He didn’t want to go but I finally convinced him. I figured once I actually threw up everything would be fine. HA!

I stayed in bed but couldn’t get comfortable. I was unable to play on my phone or computer. I couldn’t sleep. Hell I couldn’t even read. Finally I got nervous and went to webmd. It wasn’t helpful because my symptoms pointed to too many problems, however, after answering three questions in a row that made a red alert message telling me to go to the ER I got really scared. I called a nurseline from back home and told the woman who answered my symptoms. She asked me several questions and then in the calmest voice I’ve ever heard told me that everything she seeing on her computer is saying I should go to the hospital. She added: “You should go now.” I sent a text to my husband and started looking for clothes because I didn’t want to go in with pajamas on. When I realized how stupid it was to even think about that I noticed my husband hadn’t answered so I called him. I don’t remember what I said but I heard from my mother-in-law that Justin dropped everything and ran. He was definitely out of breath when he got to me.

We had a hard time finding a real hospital but managed to get to one within a half an hour or so. A doctor came in and poked my belly, which caused a dramatic reaction. Until that point I hadn’t considered appendix really, or at least I had refused to believe it. I had noticed that I didn’t feel any stomach pain by that point; I never really had, only rebound pain. I was in the emergency room for eight hours. They took lots of blood, gave me an IV (ouch) and did a CAT scan. A different doctor came in afterwards to tell me I had to have surgery and he was calling the surgeon immediately. Around 10:00 pm they took me into the operating room and I woke up maybe an hour later.

I only had to stay overnight. I was in a shared room, which was a totally new experience that I don’t want to repeat. After leaving the hospital we went back to the beach house for one night then drove three hours to my in-laws’ house. That part wasn’t fun but at least most of my recovery time was spent in more comfortable surroundings.

That week was awful. I was on two very strong antibiotics that made me nauseated constantly. Also Percocet made me feel horrid so I only took two half doses before stopping it entirely and relying on naproxen. Eating had the same effect so it was a vicious cycle. I barely ate at all and when I did I would spend thirty minutes trying not to get sick. I could only sit up for twenty minutes at a time and that didn’t happen often. Luckily I had to go upstairs to sleep and shower so I was forced to move around, which is good for recovery. If not for that I would have gladly spent every second on the couch.

We finally left for home on Wednesday. I was glad to spend the time with my in-laws but I was thrilled to go home. Having surgery so far from home and being forced to recover there was so hard. It doesn’t matter how much you love your family, when you’re hurt you want to be home and have your own stuff and your own bed.

The drive wasn’t too bad. I finished the antibiotics by the second day so nausea wasn’t too much of an issue. It was extremely difficult to get comfortable because I was contending with three incisions and the ever-present back pain but I was able to eat more or less normally. The first day I ate three-quarters of a six-inch sub and felt like I had won a marathon!

I slept better than I had for two weeks and I managed to keep my dogs from hurting me in their excitement to see us. The kids were happy too but they didn’t really know what to do so each one hugged me very gingerly and left me alone. We ordered pizza so we didn’t have to cook and I overdid it so I also had pizza for dinner last night (yay to no cooking).

I feel better now although I’m not completely recovered yet. I can’t press anything against my abdomen at all and have to be careful when lying down or getting up from the bed.

Hopefully I can get back to writing soon. I did have a few ideas on the way home. I got no work done during vacation so anything I write for now will be welcome. I managed to take a few photos, if they turned out decent I’ll post some soon.


Sidenote: Hearing my husband laugh out loud (which is rare) when I spotted some brown cows during the drive and yelled “HOW NOW?” was the best thing that happened on the whole trip! It’s a good thing it didn’t startle him too much. 😉


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.

Yes Thinking IS Writing!

I came across a blog yesterday that stated thinking isn’t writing. I have to respectfully disagree! First and foremost, everything is writing for a writer. Every experience you have, each thing you witness. Anything you learn from (or don’t if you’re stubborn). It all lends itself to your writing so all of it is writing.

When you are thinking about what to write, that is pre-writing. If you’re researching for a story, that is part of the writing process, therefore it too is writing. Writing isn’t simply putting pen to paper or your hands on the keyboard. If you didn’t do any thinking about your story, there would be nothing to writer. Now I know it’s possible to sit down with no plan in mind and write but whatever comes out of your head in that moment comes from something you saw, did, read or heard about, or maybe wish you did.

Imagine you were getting paid by the hour to write several stories/articles. Wouldn’t you charge for the time you were researching, editing, outlining etc? Of course you would, because it’s all part of writing!

Thinking may not be doing the physical act of writing, but without the thinking there would be no writing. That said, there comes a point when you have to put pen to paper or start typing what’s in your head.

To the girl who wrote the blog post about thinking, go ahead and write it out with a pen. It won’t waste as much time as you think and it might even help you to write in a way you’re unaccustomed to. Good luck!

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

Writing Update

Sadly, for me, I don’t have much writing to update you on. I somehow managed to hurt my back. I didn’t do anything spectacular or fun to cause this. Over the last two weeks the pain I’ve had on and off for several months has gradually gotten worse. I can’t stay in any one position for longer than a couple of minutes. Bending forward, even a little, is awful and I’m a slumper so sitting at the computer for very long is out of the question. As my mother would say: I have to pain tolerance of a piss ant.

It’s gotten bad enough that I am going to go to the doctor tomorrow. That’s a pretty big deal for me. I never go to the doctor unless I find there is no other course of action. To give you an idea of my dislike for being seen by medical personnel: A couple of years ago I think I broke my tailbone (for the second time). I never went to the doctor because I had the first time and there was nothing they could do for me besides give me pain pills. I can’t take narcotic pain relievers so basically I paid a bunch of money to be told I would heal in time. Why go back just to be told the same thing?

I’m learning this decision was probably a mistake because I’m pretty sure all the things I do to keep my tailbone from hurting have contributed to whatever is happening with my back. I only hope that they don’t say “Here, have some pain meds.” But I’d love to hear the doctor tell me all I need is a little recuperation time. My mother has had many back surgeries due to pinched nerves and various vertebrae issues. I’m crossing my fingers this isn’t some ‘run in the family’ thing. I know I’m scaring myself unnecessarily but I’d rather be prepared for the worst than surprised by it.

On the bright side, all this pain has greatly influenced some horrible things I’m going to do to one of my main characters. I’ve been taking notes and running scenes through my head constantly even though I haven’t written them yet. This poor guy will be in almost constant pain for a good portion of the first book. That was always the plan, but now I have more detailed plans and I certainly know how to describe it better. One friend told me when he reads a book he wants the protagonist to suffer. Another said “Everything is writing.” I’m taking both of these things to heart. If I can’t sit and type it, I can always imagine it for later writing. It sounds odd but I hope I can hold onto the negative emotions swirling around long enough to write some of these planned scenes.

The big class I’m taking is temporarily on hold but there is a smaller course that I work on periodically I can concentrate on for a while. It’s mostly reading and I can do that whether I’m sitting up, laying down, pacing, etc.

I may or may not be able to do my regular Wednesday and Saturday posts. If I don’t and you would like a prompt, I went back and numbered all the Saturday challenge posts and the Wednesday ones are dated so you can use older prompts if you’re so inclined.

Hopefully my next update will be less complaining and more writing!

Trusting Someone Enough To Fall Asleep In Their Presence Is Not Consent

Warning: This is a rant and is sure to contain foul language and strong opinions. Also, I changed the names to protect some young people’s privacy.

My fourteen year old daughter, who is an eighth grader got in the car today after school and immediate informed me “There is major drama going on in the school today.”

Assuming she meant typical teenager stuff I got ready to half listen. No offense to her but sometimes hearing about who is dating who, which friends got in a fight, and who she’s mad at aren’t really the funnest things to talk about. I do however like that she Does talk to me so I got prepared.

“There’s a girl names Kate who…”

As her story unfolded I went through many emotions and I want to apologize now for anything offensive or irrational that I say from this point on. She explained that Kate had a bunch of friends, male and female, over recently and they all stayed really late. Kate fell asleep on the floor in her living room and everyone left. A few minutes later one of the boys, Jacob, came back to get his phone charger.

The story gets a little hazy here. Something happened. Exactly what is not clear. What is known is Kate was asleep. Jacob touched her. She didn’t respond. He left. Later he sent a text to her apologizing for touching her. Today at school he told one of his friends what he had done. The friend got really angry and told everyone he knew. When people asked Kate what happened she said “I don’t know, ask Jacob.” When they asked Jacob, he didn’t really say anything.

The “drama” is that half the school is on Kate’s side and the other is on Jacobs. Some say that there is no way Kate wouldn’t have woken up and if she woke up and didn’t want it, she could have stopped him.

My daughter seemed confused so I laid it out for her. If Kate was asleep and this kid was putting his hand up her shorts to touch her, that is sexual assault. It doesn’t matter if she woke up. The fact is, no matter how this girl responded to it, the guy knew she was asleep when he started this, that’s rape. If you’re asleep, you can’t say yes or no, so the no should be assumed.

If she felt it why wouldn’t she have stopped him? What the hell was she supposed to do? She was deep asleep when this happened. She might have thought she was dreaming, she might have been scared, probably confused.

My daughter says the ‘whole school’ doesn’t understand why she won’t talk about it. WHAT? First of off the ‘whole school’ can piss off. No one gets to tell Kate how she should be reacting. She could be embarrassed, hurt, terrified, confused, angry, any number of things and it’s not for anyone else to assign a feeling or attitude to her. She may not be handling it well, but SHE’S the one that has to deal with it.

This all became such a big deal today that someone finally told a teacher and my kid told me she saw Kate and her mother going into the school (a few minutes before I got there), and the mom looked really angry.

For clarity, Jacob has basically admitted to doing this on Twitter of all places, repeatedly. He’s gone on and on about how he thinks a devil is in him and how everyone makes mistakes and people should stop judging him. He’s bitched about all his friends deserting him and he’s threatened suicide. Now I don’t want this kid to kill himself but the little bastard needs to stop acting like he’s the victim.

I spent the entire car ride home explaining what sexual assault is. I told my daughter that just because Jacob stopped, that doesn’t mean an assault didn’t happen. Just because he now feels bad doesn’t mean it’s okay. Just because he lost all his friends doesn’t mean anyone should feel sorry for him. Just because he Twitter threatened suicide doesn’t mean Kate wasn’t violated. Just because some of the kids on the school don’t think it’s a big deal doesn’t mean they are right.

I’m pretty sure that my daughter felt sorry for Jacob, at least a little until the Twitter thing. That’s part of what’s got me so worked up. Obviously I’m concerned about the girl and I’m glad it wasn’t worse but for me personally, this is a huge thing I need to make my kid understand. She seemed to think it was just drama and a crazy situation. She didn’t take it as seriously as she should have. By the end of our drive she asked me if the boy could end up going to jail. It’s scary as hell to know that serious consequences never occurred to her. That this is a big deal, beyond school drama, never crossed her mind. I guess she didn’t truly believe the guy did something so bad. What if she was the one asleep on the floor? Would she have just let him do what he wanted because she didn’t know how to handle it? I guarantee you after our talk she knows what to do!

Now for anyone that wants to jump on my case, I know there is at least some small chance that Kate isn’t telling the whole truth. I advised my kid to reserve judgement until she knew the facts. I believed that was the best course of action until I saw Jacobs Twitter account, and his admissions.

All parents need to sit down with their kids and have a frank conversation about sex, sexual assault, sexual harassment, boundaries, limits, and what to do if they find themselves in a bad situation. Maybe don’t use as many curse words as I think I did in our talk.

I apologize again for the language, but not for the opinions.

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!