Category: self introspection

Not writing, Relaying

I call myself a writer…Still in truth for many of my stories…that title is inadequate. The stories and the characters within take on a life of their own.  They are telling me the story, which I then relay to my readers. I know it is often how writers see their work, But last night it was driven home to me. I have a premise for a story. I have written at least the bare bones of it’s beginning. Enough to where the story and it’s characters are ready to really talk to me. I gave it a temporary title, one I knew would change before it was said and done. I have to title my work so I can tell it from the poetry I write on just file level. So my stories will sometimes have a bland descriptive title to just start with. Well last night, coffee in hand and music on, I opened the document to write. I drew a blank. The only thing that my mind kept focusing on was that the title was wrong. I really tried pushing the story and to my frustration only typed gibberish. So I have a wonderful story idea. Rich with Sci-fi goodness. A strong Heroine with a rich descriptive history. A plot that is strong and a monster that will be interesting…and I am not able to tell it for the fact that the temporary title isn’t the right one. *Headdesk* Yes I am insane….

Of course then i was trying to explain my frustration on my author page on Facebook, with my head pounding from the frustration, and I believe managed to condense what can be a really good story to like five sentences of garbage. In general I hate writing the synopsis anyway. I honestly have a hard time condensing a full story into a “Blurb”. Especially without spoiling the whole thing. So, note to self….no explaining your story when the story itself is refusing to talk to you.   You end up reinforcing the perception that you are insane and only causing your frustration to increase.

Stress and its cause

I ended up blocking someone on Facebook yesterday. My reasons were simple. Them being in my life was causing me issues. Stress headaches are counterproductive for me. (probably for everyone). Normally this is no big deal and a no brainer. However this one was a big deal, this one hurt. She is the mother of my grandson. She has a habit of moving him around and keeping my son from knowing where he is. Now don’t get me wrong my son is not blameless in the whole mess. He has been lax in sending in support (because he was unemployed and looking for a job). Still my grandson is autistic. And in his three years of life she has moved ten times. So I worry because she is making it worse for the baby, and then instead of allowing his family at least contact, she uses him to play mind games. I cannot handle them anymore.  So I finally had enough and blocked her. It was painful and not an easy decision. Unfortunately because my son is still involved in it I know she is still playing the mind games, claiming that my son is trying to take her child away simply because he is worried about his son. I really hope she eventually realizes how badly she is hurting her son. I hope she realizes before doing any permanent harm to her son. I wish her luck in life, But I am done. I refuse to play her games and be the mom in the middle. Instead I will live my life and do what makes my life work. Under stress I can’t write. Under stress I can’t be a good mom to my youngest. So for the sake of my world, I have to accept that I can’t help my Grandson. That saddens me.  I hope she straightens up her act up before she ruins his life.

My block list is small. Less than ten in all. I only block if I need to for my own sanity. When I do it is because I can’t deal with the person at all. Why do you block? Or do you?

I am

I have always had issues with self image.

I am a poet.

I am a writer, published and paid.

I am a jewelry artist, who has made money.

I am an artist, for my own pleasure.

I am an attractive woman.

I am a mother. Of a full grown son and a preteen girl.

I am Momo (aka grandmother)

I am a computer geek who can program in C#

i am a game master who has been running games for nearly twenty years and has taught many to play.

I am a decent cook and a better baker Most of the time.

I am an intelligent and seeking mind.

I am a blogger.

I am occasionally funny.

I am a voracious reader.

I am a good listener, A fair friend, and a devoted girlfriend.

I am Loyal to a fault.

I am usually kind.

i am usually honest.

I try to be generous, i try to be understanding and i try to be a good friend.

Yet i fight the feeling of failure and fight feeling a lack of worth…

because even though i am all of those things…

some days it feels like all that i am is worthless in the grand scheme of life.

And the worst part is I know I am not alone in how I feel….

Discipline and creativity

I am struggling to finish what i start. I keep finding new ideas….which is awesome. Then I have none that are getting finished because there is me working on new stuff. So i have been making myself work on all of my projects that are in progress. trying to build discipline and actually finish one. If i finish all of these then I will be a hugely published chick…lol.  I am afraid I am led by my creativity too often. I avoid the writing prompts so as not to add to the growing list of W.I.P.’s  but I still end up with a story idea now and then that smacks me. The newest one came from a discussion with another writer about how I hate to title my stories.  She sent me to a random generator for titles. (Thank you) However instead of helping me to title what I already have, It gave me a new avenue to explore. I ended up doing research (yes i have a scary search history….I am a writer. I must explore the random crap that pops into my head.) And writing the first hundred or so words on the story. The only thing I am sure on with that story so far is the Title…

so far my titles for my Wip’s are:

Journeys (A story about a lost individual fighting to survive…with amnesia and while injured)

Elizabeth ( A story about a noblewoman and her ancestors mostly told in journal  format)

Last Forever ( a love story about a young girl raising her siblings and struggling to find her way in life)

The Incubus and Ysobel ( a half demon hunting her father and finding herself along the way) * btw this is the new one.

Jhai’s Tale ( a drow assassin and a kobold thief form a unlikely partnership while trying to avoid the temple of Lloth and find her siblings.)

Beyond Focus ( a young girl of fae decent finds herself in the land of the fae and has to adjust to the change that happens in her)

Broken Wastelands ( a post apocalyptic steampunk tale of a girl and her mutant)

Builder’s University ( a scifi story about creatures that eat intellegence…and the university they hide in. And the student who is out to stop them)

 

And I will eventually do one more (at least) children’s story in the bedtime tales line. (that line are stories I told my daughter and she asked me to write them and publish…)

That story will be Bedtime tales: The princess lost

I have trouble titling my poetry as well, so often in my poetry volumes I list them only by the first line. What about you? Is it hard to title your stories or poems? And what is your inspirations?

Sanity

A conversation with a friend earlier has all sorts of interesting thoughts going through my head. I am a survivor. My idiosyncrasies all have solid reasons. Yes I am extremely claustrophobic. I was once locked in the trunk of a car and told I would die there. So I earned that fear. Sanity really is dependant on how you view things. I am for all I can be sane….However I have lived through enough to make me wary of somethings. So there are people who would question my mental states. Not all who are insane are such truly, most have been made that way by living a difficult life. Before you judge the behaviours another displays, ask yourself if you know their entire story. Sometimes instead of judging, offer a kind word. You might make a difference.   In today’s society I fear many are less than sane. It is because so many end up suffering.

If you are suffering and feeling alone…please reach out for help.

1 (800) 273-8255

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

Hours: 24 hours, 7 days a week
Languages: English, Spanish

 

Fear

fear /fir/
noun
plural noun: fears
1. an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.
  1. “drivers are threatening to quit their jobs in fear after a cabby’s murder”
    synonyms: terror, fright, fearfulness, horror, alarm, panic, agitation, trepidation,dread, consternation, dismay, distress;

    anxiety, worry, angst, unease,uneasiness, apprehension, apprehensiveness, nervousness, nerves,perturbation, foreboding;
    informalthe creeps, the shivers, the willies,the heebie-jeebies, jitteriness, twitchiness, butterflies (in the stomach)
    “he felt fear at entering the house”
    informal hang-up
    “she overcame her fears”
verb
3rd person present: fears
  1. be afraid of (someone or something) as likely to be dangerous, painful, or threatening.
    “he said he didn’t care about life so why should he fear death?”
    synonyms: be afraid of, be fearful of, be scared of, be apprehensive of, dread, live in fear of, be terrified of;

    be anxious about, worry about, feel apprehensive about
    “she feared her husband”
    have a phobia about, have a horror of, take fright at
    “he fears heights”

    We all have them. Some are more prominent than others. I am doing some research on fears as one of my stories are dealing with fear currently. I also researched it for personal reasons.  My fears have a logical reasons behind them. I logically understand that I have nothing to be afraid of. Still my fears exist, and on occasion they take control of my life. It means no closing myself into little rooms. No getting locked in someplace I cannot get out of. For all the logic of knowing why, I cannot seem to overcome it with logic. So I am curious…what are your fears? And what do you do to overcome?

The clutter of memories

Some days writing is easier, because my mind is loose and free of all the clutter that are memory.  I do mental exercises, and meditation to clear my mind. Sometimes it works, other times it intensifies the clutter. Add to that the anxiety I often feel over whether my writing will be good enough, and you have a recipe for a hot mess. I know I shouldn’t feel anxious. Whether my writing is good enough or not, It really does not matter. Only that I continue writing. Continue improving. It’s not just my writing, it is everything I do. I have the same anxieties with my art and with my crafts. Even though I can see improvements in the drawings I am doing.  I do not believe myself alone in my anxieties about what i create, as I have seen many creative types express similar feelings.

Getting things done

Trying to juggle so many hats means occasionally dropping a few. One merely tries not to drop the important ones. Mom, Maid, Writer, Artist, Poet, Dreamer, Momo (Happy third birthday Lennon!), Woman, Girlfriend, Sister, Daughter, Business Owner…Blogger, Person,  Feminist….so many titles….And somehow I do okay at juggling them, most of the time. Today I did ok. I felt good about it. Even managed a couple of people giving me ego candy.  Which believe me was sweet.  I uploaded things for sale in my scott’s marketplace shop…I made new items, I handled a sick daughter. I cleaned, I overcame my social anxiety to talk to a person not online. I ate. (for me sometimes that really is award worthy….lol)

So today there were some hats dropped. I  wasn’t able to write today…until now…and so this blog is all the writing I am getting done. Even that is something though. Perhaps  I should be thankful the hats I dropped in the busy day, were not the most important ones.  Which hats do you wear, and how adept are you at juggling them?

Ego Candy

It often amazes me how easy it is to feel that special boost of ego.  A small compliment or a happy customer. Today, I received a boost. I have been feeling lately a lot down on myself, my art, my crafts and my writing.  Its hard to feel good about stuff when one’s own family doesn’t seem to feel pride with what you have done.  Now in the last two days, I have had two amazing compliments. The first was from my twelve year old. I ordered the proofs for my novella, and my children’s book.  I gave them to my daughter. Well the other night as I tucked her in (cause yes i will still tuck her in every night so i can get that lovely hug and kiss each night),  she told me she had read the children’s book. She said it was kinda good. Which is for her major praise.  Then I had a day of good writing, followed by a day of productive crafting.

So today I had a visitor. who provided ego boost number two.  I had laid out the pendants I made to  try to plan a display. and she saw them. She was so enthralled by them that she kept telling me how beautiful the pendants are. It made me feel so good. I think in general we forget how small compliments and acts of kindness can affect the day of a person.  So I think i will try to hand out a piece of ego candy (Compliments that is) every day. I recommend everyone do this.

Looking for Inspiration

This year has been better than last, Emotionally and physically I am in a good place. Still after the hell that was 2015, I find myself in more of a hold than normal. I normally write at least 70 poems in a year and at least a story of some sort.  Even if I end up destroying the stories, I do write them. Yet this year has been an inspirational void. I have them…after major life changes.  It makes sense if you think about it. How does one appreciate the poetry of life, when the mind is still adjusting to chaos that comes from being truly a hot mess. I still see the poetry, still feel the story.  Surrealism clouds a busy mind.

For me March is one I almost always have a distracted mind during. This month is my birthday month. I am not a single bit worried about my age, however that doesn’t mean I don’t contemplate what growing older means. I expected that I would be so much more and yet I am farther than I thought I would be. So many of life’s choices have led me down a path that led me in both dark and light places that i could have never imagined. Today I am forty. I have made choices, both good and bad.  In Eleven days, I will be forty and one . It always strikes me as strange.  Perhaps that is why March sets me on my ear.