Category Archives: Life

The days grow

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There are moments in my writing where the days grow wider. The wind blows outside. There are times when I see things more clearly than others, and then, there are times like now.

It’s been a couple of months since I’ve written anything decent. Reading Tim Waggoner’s book lit some sort of fire, though it may have been a combination of several things.

I did a ghost hunt at Mercur Cemetery with the Utah Chapter of the HWA this past Friday. I got some great pictures of a sunset. That night has been with me since. I think about how old it is. The Town of Mercur went away in the early 1900s. After two fires and the closure of a mine, it fell apart. This happened to many towns around the same time.

The cemetery sits on a hill overlooking the valley below, but there was something about that night. Something about the sounds. The feelings, and then there was how I felt and my youngest felt. I’ve always been sensitive to places like that. It was their first time at a place like that. They did not enjoy it. It was overwhelming to them.

I’ve talked to them about it since. They’re getting better. But the atmosphere of that place is different. The air shifts when you walk up the hill to it. It’s subtle, but they and I noticed it.

I’ll be using that trip to work. It’s the least I can do. I may post pictures from it. I got some great ones. It was the uncomfortableness of it. It wasn’t the dark, but the sounds. The chittering in the dark. It has stuck with me.

Review for Let Me Tell You A Story, by Tim Waggoner

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I’ll start this with a few comments. I’ve read the other two books in this series. They’re two of the best “How To Write” books. The other books on that list are Stephen King’s On Writing, On Writing Horror By the HWA, and John Gardner’s On Becoming A Novelist. Some of these are not true “How To” books. King’s is more of a memoir, plainly stated on the cover. The others are How To Write books. Yes, King’s book has a section on “How To,” but the majority of the book is a memoir and a damn good one.

Tim’s books stick with horror, and while the first two, especially the first book, are great for beginners, the third book feels like it’s for those further along in their writing.

I loved this one as someone who has moved in a different direction with their writing. The first two helped me get started. This one is helping me move along in a number of ways.

I stopped writing for the last couple of months. But this is bringing me back.

This book is about Tim analyzing his own stories. Some of which were written a number of years ago. This feels like Tim talking to his younger self. Telling stories about the writer he was. Going through the stories is an analysis of the stories, but also a trip and memoir about the writer he was and is.

I’ve read my older stuff and see the progression from that writer to the one I am now. I see the elements repeating themselves, as they have for Tim.

Now, the part I can’t talk about. I did not do the exercises in this book. Doing them and reading the book for a review would take a bit longer. I will do them when the book comes out and share them here. I spent a few weeks doing the exercises in the other two books. I intend to do that with this book as well.

I’ll say that Tim gets better with each one of these. I’m sure he’ll be up for another Stoker for this one and probably win.

This series of books has helped me find my voice, fix writing issues, and improve my grasp of the craft. His idea in the first book of creating bags and pulling things from them gave me the idea for the novella I have coming out next month. It was woods, mental health, and cults. I ran with it from there. I got my copy through NetGalley, but as with the others in this series, I’ll purchase the physical copy. I need to get through each of the exercises. You all will be the first to know when I do.

Here is a link to Amazon for the Paperback, the Kindle, and Barnes & Noble for this book.

Moving ahead and through

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I’ve had this problem with who I am for a long time. Am I the kid whose parents divorced when he was eight and threw his world into shambles? Am I the 18 year old who was sent home from Marine boot camp?

I used to be really angry with my parents about their divorce. My mom left when I wasn’t home and nothing was explained to me. Her and two of my sisters just weren’t at our house anymore. We all went to therapy together, but it was a ruse, or at least felt like it to me. I knew something else was going one. I was eight. I had no idea the minds of adults.

Over time, I’ve grown to understand what they went through. That eight-year-old boy may not understand, but this 47 year old man does, and that’s good enough for me to move forward.

That 18 year old boy didn’t know what the hell was happening. He said something about his lungs. He didn’t have any lung issues, but had a reaction when he was working one night. He took that as something worse. It’s something he, and I, have had to deal with for almost 30 years. Sometimes the consequences of honesty are not what you expect. Sometimes they change your life. I’ve been angry with what I said that day. It’s taken a long time to forgive that boy. He’d barely experienced anything in his life. He’d barely lost his virginity(Something that was a big deal then, but not as much now). I think that boy needs to be forgiven. He wanted that title worse than anything. He didn’t know the consequences of his actions. He was just a kid who wanted to get away from his family.

I never planned to come home after boot camp, except to see my grandmother. She passed away while I would have been at boot camp. It’s a nice thing to say that if I’d have made it through boot I’d never have talked to her again. She visits me often. I don’t believe in things happening for a reason. It’s bullshit.

I see where my life is. I see that boy I was, both at eight and 18. He would be amazed we’re married, have kids, and writes books. Neither of them would have believed it.

It’s time to do something now that I’ve let them go. There’s a force in me that rears its head on occasion. I call it the monster. It’s been leashed for too long.

Let’s take it for a ride.

What I’m Afraid Of.

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I’ve had this topic on my mind for the last couple of weeks. I think about it while I’m alone in my car, in the shower, and when I’m playing video games.

My parents divorced when I was in third grade. I’ve worried about this since the birth of my son. While we’ve had our ups and downs, our ups are strong right now.

I entered boot camp almost thirty years ago and when it got to it, I was scared. I was afraid of starting my life and doing all of the details of it. I got an honorable discharge for my bad eyes a few days after arriving at boot. I was thankful at the time, but also worried what my family would say. That is one thing in my life I would change. I’ve worked to overcome it but it’s always there.

The others are a relationship with my son and daughter. I don’t have one with my biological father and I don’t want that for my kids. I work hard to make amends with them for my past failings.

My other fear is that I’m wasting my time with my writing and that I should spend more time helping my wife financially. This is a bigger one since I haven’t worked an event in almost three months. If you know of a bar in Utah that’s hiring bartenders I have 24 years experience.

There is also the fear of spending too much time doing other things, gaming, reading…etc, and that is impacting my writing career. This is the one at forefront lately. I enjoy playing video games with my wife but I wonder if I spend more time doing that than I should.

The fear of falling off the wagon is big one too. I’ve worked hard for my sobriety. It’s one of my biggest accomplishments. I know it’s there waiting to take control. That’s the way it is as an alcoholic.

I’m sure other fears escape me, but these are on my mind daily. It’s one of the reasons I’m on antidepressant and anti-anxiety medication.

I come to this blog three days a week to talk about my issues. I’m sure it’s hard to read for some people but honesty has been at the forefront of my life for years. I attribute this to the reasons I no longer have a relationship with my biological father.

But enough of me. Have a good couple of days and I’ll see you back here on Friday, same bat time, same bat channel.

What’s going on?

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I’ve dealt with my stomach issues over the last few months, but that’s not what this post is about.

After I had my initial visit with my doctor, I asked to be put on anti-depressant/anxiety medication. If you’ve read this blog for a while you understand my reasons for that; now I’ve run into a problem.

I started taking the medicine in November and I haven’t written a word since. I don’t feel like writing, reading, or watching anything with my wife. A malaise settled in over my life. One that I’m not comfortable with. Writing and books are where I get the most enjoyment. They’ve always been my safe space. Not writing feels worse than depression.

I’m not cured of depression. That doesn’t happen. I understand that the medicine takes away the depression and the lows in causes. It’s also taking away my desire to work. I get to my desk every morning and stare at a blank screen. I may write something but I delete it later because I’m not interested in what I’ve put down.

I usually start exercising to help with my depression issues. I don’t want to do that either.

I’m going off the medication to see if that fixes this. I can’t live without writing. It’s causing me more mental issues than it’s solving.

I had wanted to publish this year. I don’t desire that either. It’s one of the reasons I haven’t posted here.

Anyway, I’ll let you know how it goes.