Another from the Asylum Makes Her Entrance.

Hello,

I guess, that’s how this should go. I know the others have had their say, but, me, I feel that…maybe…possibly, I should do something else.

Cubist is psychotic, Jack is prude and B, well, he’s the ringmaster or the Director of the Asylum that is us.

As for me, I’m Shae. I’ll just leave it as that one word. I think things are about life, death and possibly getting through adolescence, but that’s another story for another day.

I won’t keep you waiting, or write a lot like Cubist, he does that. I’ll just say,

Adieu,

Shae

Gates Swinging and There’s Still More Coming.

We see the world, its many colors, shades and flowers unlike any we’ve seen through varied glasses throughout our life.

Our sight is often changed by instances of pain, reward and grief.

The change continues until we see the figurative light, which comes when we’re least expecting something to happen.

I saw it the other day, not the way I was expecting, but, still, it was something I’d been hoping to see. He’d never let me through the gate, or control the wheel, and this is, as I write it, is the first time.

You’ve met the deviant, Cubist, now it’s my turn. I’m a bit more sophisticated than that hack, and because of that the words are different.

I am Jackson Thomas Hunter, a name that is different than I planned, but still in a sense what he wanted and then we’ll discuss the other things you may see from me.

These things will be prettier, not because of anything other than the way I feel about the world and its beauty.

I hope you’ll come along and visit, there’s more of us, but I’ll always come when needed.

Regards,

Jack

Navigating the Waters of Who We Want to Be.

The more we fight who we are, the harder it becomes to resist the temptation to become that person.

Each new day comes and goes, but within those days the struggle within, the struggle to fight and move on and become the person we should be, that fight becomes more difficult.

The difficulty lies in having the time to digest the new person, peruse who they are and navigate through their mind.

Our digestion of this person is fought on all sides from outside sources. Family and friends are afraid of this person, they don’t know them and their discovery of who we want to be and what we truly want frightens them.

Our perusal of this person and what they represent to our lives is oftentimes destroyed by our glance within. We’ve fought hard to become that person, and the destruction of they’ve wrought leads us to a place we’re unfamiliar with and this scares the hell out of us, and it should, change should scare us.

Like Magellan, we move around the places we don’t want to be, dodging the Horn of Hate, ignoring the Straight of Lost Dreams, until we reach the place we’re supposed to be, sure there will be lost sailors along the way, there may even be lost ships, but reaching the new shore of who we are is worth traveling for.

Self Discovery, Las Vegas and New Adventures.

  

It’s only after we’ve discovered who we are that we’re able to understand the trials and triumphs that led us to our current position.

When I arrived in Las Vegas nearly 17 years ago, I had no money, I’d recently been kicked out of the house by my father and stepmother and I didn’t have a job.

My big sister and her family took me in, something I can never thank them enough for. If not for them I would have been living on the street, which is something I considered when my father kicked me out of the house.

Vegas, at that time, was booming and skeletons of future hotels lined the strip. 

Jobs were abundant, but only to those who had experience in a casino related field, which I didn’t.

It was before the corporate takeover of Las Vegas, when employees were treated well and they were looked at as people and not a number on a spreadsheet.

Each year I’ve been in Vegas has brought something new.

The first year I married my wife, the second we bought our house, but children, it took us five years until we were blessed with children, but that didn’t come easily either, much like finding work now.

Our first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage, but nearly a year later our son was born.

His life has been filled with all the things he could want, and possibly we’ve been too liberal with buying things, but when our daughter arrived 6 years later we learned how hard parenting could be.

Born 6 weeks early and weighing 3lbs 10 oz, she lived in an incubator for the first month of her life, but unlike some preemies, she’s been healthy otherwise.

Around the time our daughter was born, our life was in shambles. The economy crashed, we lost the house we’d loved, but everything has a silver lining, or so I’m told.

The house we’ve lived in since our daughter’s birth is bigger, but with that there were other things we were unable to do.

Somewhere along the way of being a good father and husband I forget to take care of myself and stopped caring about who I was and worried more about what others thought of me. This became evident last year when I suffered a breakdown and nearly took my own life.

For the past year I’ve been working on me and because of that I’ve tried to be better as a dad and husband.

When we leave Las Vegas I know I’ve made mistakes in the last 17 years, but for the last 16 months I’ve been trying to make up for those.

My journey of discovering who I am has been ongoing  for longer than I can say, but for little over a year I’ve come to grips with where I’ve screwed up and where I’ve prospered.

I’m looking forward to discovering more about who I am and who I’ll never be again. 

I’ll miss parts of our life in Las Vegas, but it’s time to start a new journey, a new life and see where the next adventure goes. 

Brian

How Fear Drove Me From “Finishing” a Novel

  
Creating a world from nothing means eventually we have to show it to someone.

How we deal with their comments and whether we understand how they’re trying to help us is all on us.

One year ago, I had my cousin go over one of my stories. It’s a novel and I love the story, but having someone critique it, well, I guess I wasn’t ready for it.

I’ve thought about that story more recently.

The red sand, dancing pictures and who each character is have come to mean something to me and after a year of stops and starts on other stories, it’s time.

Each story is different for every writer, this one left me wanting to write more. I wanted to walk with them, discuss what they were doing and hear them ask, “Why’d you abandon us?”

My only answer, “Fear, I feared going back. Putting you on a table and cutting bits and pieces from who I thought you were and the thought of changing you, well, it scared the shit out of me.”

“But, we were supposed to go places, see things?”

“It’s only temporary. I’m ready to do the work, now that the writing is done it’s time to cut in, take things away and create something worthy of how I see you.”

“Okay, if that’s what you need to do. We’re ready too.”

This conversation may or may not have happened, the point is that a story we create, characters we live with for months and people we learn to love, sometimes we have to kill our darlings.

Killing them, gutting them and distributing who they are around the story, to make it better, that’s why I write.

The hardest part of writing is the killing, gutting and making the story into a cohesive piece of work, rather than an amalgam of what we think it should be.

The story, its characters, what their role is and how each puzzle piece fits into the story, that’s the important stuff, that is what makes us finish something and send it off.

I forgot that and now that I’ve had my discussion with the story, I’m ready to do the work, clean it up and send it off.