Tag Archives: Life

Sick, depression, and lack of focus.

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The story I’d been writing took a turn and I no longer feel I can finish it.

It may have to do with the cold I’ve been fighting for the last week.

It may also have to do with a bit of depression I’ve been dealing with because of not being able to write this story.

It took a turn sometime last week in a direction I don’t like and I thought I’d let it go, however, since then it’s become a boondoggle.

The boondoggle was exasperated when I started watching A Discovery of Witches this past week. It’s too much like my story and may toss it in the bin because of that.

Anyway, happy writing.

What fiction is to me.

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The thought of what fiction is to me and what it means to me has been on my mind this week.

It’s the little spaces in between paragraphs when I’m considering what to write next. The moments when I write something well and amaze my self.

Most of all it’s freedom.

Freedom from distractions. Freedom to find purpose in the lives of the characters I create and the ability to try and scare them.

I used to write to impress people. I thought it would but most people don’t care.

When I write it’s to scare myself and maybe my wife. She’s my first reader and if I can scare both of us, I feel accomplished.

I gave up writing for others. There’s no satisfaction in it. There’s no reward in it. They won’t come to you frightened. Most of them won’t read what you write anyway so what’s the use.

Fiction to me is being myself. Finding purpose within the words and trying to make something memorable.

I may not be published but writing for myself is rewarding as hell.

When you’re not ready for the story, try anyway.

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I haven’t traveled as much I would like. This has destroyed some of my writing.

When I write real world cities that I haven’t experienced I get a flustered and feel like faking it won’t work. When this happens I don’t want to continue with the story. I worry about people from those cities reading my stories and saying, “ah, its not like that.”

This has come into play with the recent story as parts are set in London, Glasgow, Edinburgh, and the Orkney Islands. These are places I intend to visit in the future. Today our finances don’t allow me to go gallivanting across the U.K.

This presents a quandary I’m trying to puzzle out.

I’ve written about Paris, Prague and other places in stories before, but this book is different from the others. It has more of my soul in it.

I have Scottish ancestry and its somewhere I’ve wanted to visit since I was a little kid, I’m 43.

I’m fighting with myself on this one and I don’t want to get things wrong.

My hope is that when I finish this, I would’ve been to those places.

Although I’m apprehensive about it, I’ll continue to write. Its one of those ideas that shouldn’t be tossed in the bin. It needs to be finished.

Being in love with the story helps with this one. I don’t want to give up on something I’m in love with, regardless of the issues my mind has with it.

Happy writing.

I’m tired of being unpublished.

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I’ve reached a point where I’m tired of being unpublished.

I’ve written eight books and haven’t published a single one.

There are many reasons for this. But they boil down to not editing and not giving as much time to editing as I do to the first draft.

This caused me, at times, to hate writing.

After trying to edit one book, I got tired of it and wrote a couple more short stories as well as a novella.

So with every screw up a plan is born.

This plan will allow me to write something new as well as edit. I tried editing at night. It took away from time with my wife.

I love time with my wife. Sure, most nights were sitting across the room from each other reading. In Las Vegas I was lucky to get that.

I have two novels I’ll be editing for the year. I want to make sure they’re as perfect as possible.

Last summer 13 agents said no to one of my books. After having my writing group go over it, they noticed glaring issues only a different set of eyes can give a story.

I’ll be giving my writing group one of these. The other I’ll post in various places.

I will publish this year.

Happy writing!

A ledge, a death, and finding myself.

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:TRIGGER WARNING: Talk of suicide.

Five years ago I stood on a ledge. I mean this literally.

I was in the parking garage of the hotel and casino I worked at in Las Vegas. It was the end of my shift and I didn’t want to live anymore.

Over the previous six months, my grandfather passed away, I stopped considering my biological father as my dad, and I contracted shingles.

All of this is related to why I stood on that ledge.

I remember standing, the dry Vegas air blowing through my clothes, and not caring what anyone would think about me not being here.

I was mostly just tired. I felt like I caused a lot of pain and I was tired of hurting.

Something happened that day that was nearly the deciding factor for my life. A co-worker told me, “No one cares what happens to you. No one wants to listen to you talk about your writing anymore.”

Those words, completely full of venom and hate, led me to standing on the ledge.

I stared down at the pavement. Feeling the wind brush back my hair and rippled my clothes. Then, I don’t know why, but I stepped down and called my wife. I don’t have an explanation as to why I stepped down.

I explained to my wife what happened.

No one, not even her knew how bad my depression was. I didn’t want anyone to know that I’d lost it. I’m not sure if its a guy thing, though I’ve come to believe it had something to do with it.

I talked to her through my Bluetooth on the way home. She had no idea. I know no one I worked with did.

Today, I turned 43. Life got better after we left Las Vegas almost four years ago. I see my kids more, love my wife more, and take care of myself. I enjoy life.

One of the reasons we left was the toxicity of casino work. When we left, I was getting migraines 2-3 times a week. Since we left, I’ve had eight of them.

One of my goals after moving was to write fiction daily. I do that now. I’ve written eight books and I’m planning on publishing a book this summer on Amazon.

If you have thoughts of suicide, please get help. Please tell someone and don’t let some asshole you work with drive you to end things.

I continue to suffer from depression, but after trying Transcendental Meditation after my breakdown, because that’s what it was.

TM has become a daily practice for my wife and I. It changed my life, as well as saving it.