Hey I'm an aspiring writer struggling with motivation due to my depression and I keep hearing about various other writers, some of whom are famous still being able to keep up a decent work ethic despite of their disability. How do I become like them? Does anyone here got any advice?
OMFG I typed a shit ton and accidentally swiped the bluetooth mouse and the whole thing disappeared. So TECH SUCKS.
Surgeons suck, especially when they don't listen to me and do things and then accuse me of abusing narcotic painkillers. Seriously?! Rich asshole, listen up. Had morphine 3X in my life, all three in the hospital when I was in blinding ass pass-out level pain. I don't take painkillers on the whole because they don't fucking work on me anyway. Plus they have this dumbassed arrogant attitude that gives them the moxie to tell me, this is a complication free procedure, what you're describing can't be happening. Well tell that to the ER doc who took one look at my knee and calf and drained 200 cc of blood out of it and tells me its a fucking normal complication, rare, but it can happen. Surgeon ends up next day draining 120CC blood out of my knee that filled up again in seven hours—and yells at me because he gives me the smallest single hit of lidocaine [sIC] so I'm climbing up the damned walls in pain. I usually can't do locals because I can take like ten doses and still feel every goddamned thing they're doing. But he uses that as a basis to tell That Woman I Live With I'm a drug abuser. Awesome. Surgeons can really suck.
It took me four weeks to get the surgery— two weeks over the 100% rapid recovery outcome for a dude my age with that injury. All because some rich asshole on a medical group's insurance panel says, it's not medically necessary. Seriously dipshit?! I RUN for a living. It's my fucking JOB. So insurance people suck too.
Anyway, being injured for two months and another 4-6 weeks in PT & rehabbing the knee I should be able to go back to work just in time for league finals and HS season. Yay! An entire season without income also SUCKS! (more so when you suddenly have to hire a defense atty to protect your son).
So I had even more "free time" to work on the fiction author stuff. One of the four novels is a stretch piece. I've never written a Romance or Erotic Romance before. I did an initial round of queries to pubs, get the ole chestnut, 'love your work send us more... but this one we can't use right now.' yay. Whatevs. stock and trade. Not that big of a deal.
But I want this thing out there and off my shoulders. So I want to go the indie route but I need an indie editor. I need some beta readers too because I've been celibate against my will for 14 years so I have no fucking idea beyond my research (reading a shit ton of other people's EroRom work) what's "hot" to the median 39yo female reader and fan of EroRom.
I friend who's a copy editor some how decides after like a year of my going on about this friggin story asks me for the logline. I pitch it. She loved it. turns out she's a huge fan of EroRom. Her guilty pleasure YAY! progress, finally!
Chapter 3 is the big rip roaring floor furniture and chandelier chapter. and I have no idea if it's laughable or legit. She gets to the end of Chapter two and her life blows up. OFFS. So I get 8 beta readers. mostly not the demographic and only two admitted EroRom readers. One person stops at chap 1 and says, hate it. Awesome I figure I got 7 others and two I really need to listen to. Weeks, months go by. I send inquires of them. SILENCE.
So betas readers who say they want to read and don't and don't even have the moxie to say, I can't do it just totally SUCK too.
The other three novels and now five shorts over the summer I have regular betas for. Suddenly this week as I'm ready to send them stuff they've been asking for all summer as I worked text me and say, 'sorry, I'm out, my life blew up (divorce dead parent, etc.).' Aw fuck. What can you do, right?
So a friend at a Con says, hey I know this editor who's between things and she loves your work. Awesome. I contact her. She gets back to me and says, I'll do it, but right now I have three friends dying of cancer in MT, VA and PA. Hopefully by December but I definitely want to do it. YAY.... December. I have four novels, five stories I'll have completely editor ready by Oct 1st.
Sure I'll still be pounding out content in the meantime, I'm a workaholic and I work around the clock since I can't work games until my knee is 100%. But the shorts could be out there now if I had the editorial support that I lost. At least one of the novels could be out there too. The production plan was Oct 1st but everyone's lives blew up.
That totally fucking SUCKS.
Oh yeah, my website disappears on me, and the ISP domain host can't figure it out and when I tried to reupload it something weird happened and it's inaccessible. Awesome. I meet with a designer friend who said four months ago she could help with the platform tech. YAY. This week she says she's retiring "to follow her bliss."
Jeebiz fuck me. Now that I've wasted an hour writing this rant, I better get back to work. When the dam finally breaks I don't want to be all, 'uh, i bailed out.' I just have no one to talk to so... yeah.
I'm young. I'm dumb. But I have potential. At least I think I do.
What do I mean by this?
I want, more than anything in the world, to become a famous writer.
Not for the money. Not for the connections.
For the validation.
I want to evoke emotion from people. I want to make them feel things.
This has been a struggle of mine for as long as I can remember.
There would be times in my life where I would get so upset with my parents that I would cut or burn to provide them with tangible proof that I was in distress, because I could fathom no other way to express my emotions other than by injuring myself. My intentions were to physically demonstrate the excruciating emotional anguish that I felt was inflicted upon me.
In short, I have always wished to dramatically convey ideas with the goal of eliciting a raw, guttural response.
Non MI related. I just want to post my short story.. which is actually based on real life events. I've been wanting to write a book for the longest time... but my attention is too damn short to write a goddam book!!! So I ended up writing stuff like this instead, so here you go if you care to read..
My nights are plagued with thoughts from twelve years ago. When I first saw the girl in the hallway of my school in college. I was a freshman and she was a junior. And I knew nothing of how relationships work within the walls of that school. But she captivated me. For a moment, our eyes met and there was this inexplicable connection. I didn't know what it was only that it stirred something in me that I had no name for. For how can a girl like me feel something so strange for another girl? I wasn't like that. I was barely eighteen and I never had a boyfriend. My last suitor broke my heart when I found out my friend was already his girlfriend while he was still courting me and the boy I had mutual understanding with had a girlfriend and he can never decide what I was to him. But there were no boys in my school. Still, I never thought any of it. I kept seeing her, that girl. For some reason, we kept bumping into each other and she kept looking at me strangely. Until I found myself looking forward to our next encounter and anticipating where I might see her next. I was surprised one day when I went out of the library and there was a box of candies there at the baggage counter waiting for me. It said they were from Layzie. That was her nickname. They were from her! I didn't know how I should feel but there were butterflies in my stomach. I couldn't keep from smiling and I thought what an idiot I must be, feeling that way toward a girl! I wondered how it should work... if two girls were to be together. I mean, I knew girls like that. I had a close friend from my previous school who had a girlfriend and it just didn't make sense to me. I knew it was wrong and my parents would never approve of it. But the way she made me feel made me forget about everything else. She sent me more gifts and cards, and I was really puzzled more than anything, why a girl would like me that way. She didn't look like a boy. She had deep eyes with light circles around them, her cheekbones looked cute when she pouts and she had dimples that took your breath away when she smiled. Her black hair went down to her shoulders and it was the softest and shiniest hair I ever saw. I can still remember the first time she called me on my cellphone. Her voice was husky and she didn't know what to say. It was so silly. I had nothing to say either so we ended up giggling and asking each other what we ate that day and said goodbye after a few more nonsense questions. I felt so stupid.
It was twelve years ago and I can hardly remember the other details but on January of next year, I decided I will say yes to her. She was so happy while I on the other hand was trying to understand what I've gotten myself into. The only thing I know, the one thing I remember the most is how I loved her. And I loved her very very much.
Layzie waited for me after class. I had World History and I couldn't wait to get out because I hated that professor. When I went out, I found her beside the door. I smiled at her and she took my hand, gave me a quick kiss on the lips and pulled me downstairs. We walked holding hands and when we reached the 3rd Street Gate where there were benches in the open area, I saw her friends. She introduced me to them one by one. They were so many and they were all smiling at me with such fondness and I guess a bit of curiosity. There, shaking my hands, hugging and kissing me were a bunch of third year students and they were all so kind to me. I thought, so this is how it feels to have friends from the higher batch. But Layzie pulled me away from them and said she would take me somewhere where we could be alone. I followed her to the grounds and up a staircase right after the chapel. Up there was a wide veranda that seemed unfinished. I never saw that part of the school before. It wasn't a romantic sight but we were alone alright. She walked me to the edge where we could see the other side of the street. Our school was in the middle of the main road and a high-end village. Up there, we could see the houses and lots of trees. She leaned on the baluster smiling while the soft breeze touched her hair. Her teeth were unbelievably white. We didn't kiss or make-out. We just stood silently through the hum of the houses that were cozily lit until it got dark.
The next day, she said that she would take me home and I decided to introduce her to my family. We took the jeep and rode the tricycle to our house. We lived in a compound with my grandmother and other cousins and our house was in the second floor up the wooden staircase.
“This is my best friend, Layzie.” I told my mom.
“Hello, Layzie!” my mom said. “It's so nice to see Jack's best friend.”
Of course, I couldn't tell them that she was my girlfriend. I heard their comments about girls like that when they went to my school and she said that it was disgusting.
We giggled our way into my room at the thought of introducing her as my best friend.
“I love you, Jack.” Layzie said and started kissing me on the lips. It was the first time I've really been kissed. The feel of her rough lips on mine was strange because it was cold and warm at the same time. Then she started sticking out her tongue inside my mouth and rolling it around and around, and I felt an unfamiliar sensation between my legs. It was like she was kissing me there. I was so young and inexperienced, I didn't know how to kiss her back. But she led me and showed me patiently by kissing me more. Her kiss was intense and so passionate that there is nothing I wouldn't give just for her to kiss me like that again one last time.
The school became such a wonderful and happy place. We wrote to each other and she'd give me cards with poems on them even though we saw each other everyday. We celebrated every month on the day that I said yes to her. But on March, when summer vacation came, she told me that she had a problem with the school. She may not be returning on June when school resumes because she still had a balance on her tuition fee and her father still couldn't pay it. I became very distraught at the thought of not having her there. I cried and sometimes, we cried together. On our fifth month together, her sister told her that she wanted to run away from home because of the same problem. I couldn't remember exactly what their problem at home was only that the two of them couldn't go to school that year. She was going away with her sister and applied for work at a food chain and because I couldn't bear to be away from her, I suggested that she stay with me at home. I talked to my mom and told her that Layzie needed to work while studying and her workplace was near our house so she would be staying with us for a while. She agreed and Layzie slept with me in my room but it only lasted a short while.
One time, while Layzie was taking a shower downstairs, my mother talked to me and told me that she knew that something was going on between us and that she must go. We were fighting and shouting when I noticed Layzie was at the door and she must have heard it all because when she left, she said that she was going for good. I was so furious with my mother for calling her a tomboy and so mad at myself for letting her hear it. I asked her where she was going and she said she would stay with her sister who went to her boyfriend's house. As an act of rebellion, I went with her. I told my parents I was sleeping over at my friends'. But soon, their aunt talked them into going back home. So I went back home and they went back home, and that's when we started drifting apart. She was now so busy at work while I waited at home for her texts and calls. School was soon starting and she grew more distant from me. Until I found out that there were people at work who were interested in her and somehow I had a feeling that her attention had shifted to them. She didn't cheat on me. But I knew that I had lost her. June came and I started going to school again... without her. She came to my house and I asked her if she still wanted to be with me and she said that it had been hard for both of us and that it would be best for me if we weren't together. I was shattered. I couldn't bear the thought of losing her. She didn't breakup with me that day. But eventually, she did. She said that she loved me so much and that I will always have a place in her heart.
The days droned on but I can never perform well in school. My friends became worried about me when they saw me crying at the bench alone, in the washroom and sometimes, in the middle of class. It took a while for me to pay attention to class again but I was never the same until the day came, after a year, that she returned to school but she already had a boyfriend. I didn't talk to her. I was still mad at her for leaving me and I still loved her. Only, I didn't admit it. And after two years, before my classmates graduated, it was my time to leave the school for the same reasons she did. Only, I never came back.
I ran as far away as I can from St. Paul QC. I never looked back and focused on my work. It took me at least four years to recover until I met Bob.
It's been three years since Bob and I broke up but my thoughts are filled with her... only her.
I decided to fill my time a bit by entering an online art competition. Because I am very private about recent work, I dug out a series that is not old, but not part of what I am doing currently.
All the works will be used together as one big piece. They will tell a fairytale. The competition requires voting, so I don't know how far I will get, to be honest, but it's something to do that is not hugely stressful.
Anyway, I have around 18 works to get through that will be made into a larger whole. I have scanned them all, but they all require individual tweaking in photoshop to match up the colour and tones with the originals. There is also re-sizing and such. It's going to be a good week or so to finish everything, perhaps more.
Here are a few I finished working on today. They have been matched to the original works colour and tone wise. Enjoy