So close I can taste it!

The final stages of my novel being complete is coming to an end. The interior design is nearly complete and even now I am shaking. It’s unnerving not from the idea that my first novel may not succeed but rather I still am blown away that I was capable of creating something like this.

I guess you could say I never actually thought I would make any of my dreams come true. This started out as a hobby and I wish, I wish I could actually make a career out of this but I know that for a novelist to gain that kind of following and money it will take years upon years of hard work and with any luck I’ll be able to provide that hard work for everyone who may enjoy my books.

I want to thank everyone who actually believed in me and also those that kind of didn’t. I mentioned in another post that motivation is a tricky thing. I wrote this book for myself more than anything and when it comes down to it some people are motivated by the negative things in life. Taking negative comments from others, while most of the time should be ignored, can be a catalyst to ignite something amazing. Those negative comments didn’t necessarily spur me, as writing this book was not one based on negative thoughts, but I’d like to think that everyone feels good proving others wrong.

So to that I say cheers! Drinks will be on me very, very soon.

First poll!

In anticipation for my soon to be released novel I am going to throw it out to all of you out there and I want to know what your favorite SIN is. This can be one that describes you to a T or something that you’ve always thought was the best or even the worst out there. Feel free to add a comment down at the bottom explaining why you chose that particular SIN.


That’s it. Priorities be damned!

Alright I’ve sat down and I’ve thought about it. It probably isn’t the best thing for me to do but sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants. While I currently am working on my second novel at this point in time the itch to write something else is just too overpowering. The ideas for my next book are there, but fitting them together right now might be harder than just taking a break from the current trend of what I am writing.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned before but during high school I started work on a fantasy novel. Not so much in the sense of “Lord of the Rings” or “Star Wars” but almost a mix of the two. I had it in my mind that I could create a world that had advanced technology but did not rely on it as much as they would like due to a force that cannot be reckoned with.

The irony is while I respect any writer of any genre I just can’t get into fantasy books and my biggest fear is that if I do a fantasy/futuristic novel that it will suffer because most fantasy novels I have tried to read are at a much slower pace than what I typically enjoy.

But . . . nothing ventured nothing gained. So I think I’ll dive headfirst into it and see where it goes.

Two Sides of the Same Coin.

I suppose I got bit by the inspiration bug yesterday and that was the reason between two blog posts. They could be considered short stories in their own right but it really began with me thinking about what I am actually afraid of in life and how that fear, for most of my life, overtook most of the decisions I have made.

In an earlier blog post I mentioned how I was kind of cut off from society as a child. Sure I went to public school like most of us but from when I was around eight years old to twelve I lived out in what some would consider the “country”. There were no other kids for miles and on top of that I was forced to go to a different school even though, technically, the house I lived in was closer to the school where I made my initial friendships.

It was a fateful mixture of never being taught to stand up for myself, never knowing what the word “confidence” was, and being the new kid in school. That was my first meeting of what fear was. I didn’t have any idea what courage was and the first few years of my new childhood was a mixture of teasing words and the occasional sock to the stomach. Looking back now it wasn’t even the fear of not being accepted, but the fear of being a failure in my mother’s eyes. I did my best to keep the truth from her and my grandparents but every now and then a call would go out to other mother’s and father’s and the next day a new barrage of taunts of being a “tattle” would come upon me.

This continued through most of my adolescent life. I got the thoughts in my head I shouldn’t have but somehow I persevered. I took everything in stride. The fear was still there and pounding in the back of my mind. It caused me to lose a few people that meant the world to me but at the same time with how they did treat me back then I think it actually took courage to cut them out of my life.

Throughout my adult life so far I could be described as a recluse in some aspects. I do not mind going out and interacting with society yet at the same time I take a look at what is in front of me right now and I can only feel apathetic about it all. It isn’t fear that is holding me back. The fear is still there, of course, but I don’t let it dictate my life any longer. I simply grew tired of never taking chances. I won’t be bungee jumping anytime soon but as I said I feel apathetic about where I live.

Courage and fear can actually be very misunderstood things. Some may think that I am fearful of putting myself out there to the world but at the same time I have taken nothing but pride in how . . . eccentric . . I am. I’m not a typical person. I am not shy, I am not proper. I have learned that only a select few people can handle who I really am and it is those people who know that no matter what the situation is or how afraid they will be my own fears will never stand in my way to help them.

So in a lot of ways those last two blog entries were a thank you to those who have been able to see me find my courage again and that I will always be there if they need me.

Hello Again, Old Friend.

Hey there. Can you hear me? I might not be as loud as some but I hope you can still make out what I have to say to you. I know your chest is tight and the edges of your eyes are moistened but I am telling you it is okay. You can relax. You’re stronger than this. Clear your throat and stand up. You’re not done yet and it’s because you’ve never been done. You are still alive and still breathing and if you have even an ounce of breath left in your body you are stronger than you could ever realize.

You can feel it now can’t you? I’m right here with you. I’ve always been with you. Your heart is slowing down and your legs feel a bit stronger now don’t they? They are wrong. Everyone has been introduced to that pain at some point in their life but they have had to been introduced to you. I have always been here. I have been here since the day your heart started to beat and I remember every single moment since then even if you can’t. When you scraped your knee and felt that pain for the very first time we were there together. We got through it together because I helped you back to your feet. I take that back. You got back on your feet by your own.

I know how much it hurt to have someone laugh in your face, to ignore you, and to feel like you were nothing. I was with you that day they walked away but we both knew that wasn’t the end. That was on them, not on you. They lost out. You gained. The fact of the matter is for them to cast you away like that wasn’t them throwing you away, that was them losing the opportunity for something special. Something that was right in front of them that they could have needed in their life but perhaps their own darkness had control. Perhaps they were the ones too afraid to take you on. To have some happiness in their own life. The other side is powerful, there is no doubting that, but it is not all encompassing. You choked that day but eventually you were able to swallow it down, to move on.

You carried it with you but you still lived your life. That new kind of pain was terrible but in the end you are still alive. Still breathing. Still laughing. Still crying. That is what matters. I was with you and you didn’t even know it. I lent myself to you not because you needed me, but because that is what you are. You survive.

Everyone is struggling just the same as you are but take comfort in that. Take comfort in the fact that you are not alone. You have never been alone. You care. They care. Everyone cares. We just believe sometimes we are strong enough to shoulder the burden on our own. I am telling you it is okay to rely on others. It is okay to cry on a shoulder every now and then and let everything wash away. That isn’t giving up, that is fighting back and there are others who will help you fight back.

I know things only get harder in life. As you get older those insecurities of your childhood and of your adolescence echo in your ear like a taunting jester who has its royal highness strapped into their very own throne. Every now and then a bad choice is made and terrible feelings are felt. You may feel like you are wasted and that no one would or should ever love you but they do. People do love you. Even if you can’t see it at the time and drive yourself deeper and deeper there are still those out there that want nothing more than to take your hand and pull you back to the surface and they will feel honored for doing so.

Even if you cannot see the hands that wish to raise you from the darkness you’ve descended into that is fine. Those hands are never judging and always forgiving regardless of whether or not you take them. Though you don’t really need to take those hands do you? You’ve been here before. You’ve skinned your knees, you’ve fallen down, and you cannot imagine anything worse than what it is you’re going through. You’ve been here before. How did that turn out?

You rose. You pushed yourself up from that pain and pressed on. You’ve done it thousands of times in the past and you’ll do it a thousand times before. You’ll finally see that you can be happy. That you deserve to be happy. You’ll finally understand that it takes something special to allow yourself to be happy. With anyone or anything. You will shine brighter than ever before and you’ll shine someday soon.

I can say this because we’ve been a team ever since your heart first beat. It’s always been you and me.


It’s So Nice to Meet You.

Hush. Do you hear that? The little knocking in the back of your head? That gripping tightness around your heart? That bile that rises just enough in the back of your throat that you can taste it but never expel it? That’s me.

I’m what causes your arms to seize up. I’m what causes that rubbery feeling in your knees whenever you stand toe-to-toe with me. I find it amusing how much control I have over your life now that you’re an adult. I never thought I’d have any control when you were a child, no, you were much too stubborn for that.

But that was until you scraped your knee one day. You could have fallen from a bike. You could have got it by tripping over yourself as you ran, laughed, and played with other kids. They didn’t know me either. You do now. That pain is what introduced us. It made us best friends. Sure as a child you shrugged me off after a good cry but I was always there. I watched you grow and develop and with it I grew stronger.

I was with you that day you stood in front of that special someone, the person that causes your chest to tighten whenever you see them. I was there as you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came. They laugh at your cheeks turning red. That’s when you knew that I was there for keeps. That paralyzing force that turns a once wet mouth into ash. That feeling of needing to swallow but that lump just chokes and chokes and chokes any hope out of you. What makes it even worse is that somewhere along the lines of the skinned knees and elbows someone put a thought into your head. A hurtful thought that just allowed me to grow exponentially up until this point.

They walk off. Tears brim your eyes. I just only grow stronger. Oh but I overestimated you. Yes I did. No longer are you the child that would sometimes avoid the jungle gym with memories of those skinned knees haunting you . . . no . . . You don’t care about the skinned knees anymore. You’ve learned that emotional pain is much greater than a broken arm or even a dreaded paper-cut. Those heal. The pain fades. The memories remain but that pain is fleeting.

You’ll carry this pain with you. All because I get to take in the pleasure of knocking at the back of your skull. I get to twist and dig my fingernails into your chest whenever you feel anything for anyone. You’re never good enough. I own you. People don’t notice though. People don’t care. They never care. It’s a strange thing from my perspective because I am in every one of them as well. Knocking and knocking and gripping and tearing. They are all just like you. Too stubborn to know any better. Too stubborn to admit they have no control over their lives. Too proud to admit they are a slave.

By the time you’re old enough to make your own life choices I am strapped in. I twist you in every terrible direction I can because I know I can. What does it do to you? Do you feel worthless now? Do you drift through life just praying and hoping someone comes along to save you? Never going to happen. I won’t allow it to happen. I. Always. Win.

I like to see you suffer though. I like it when you have hope. Every day you smile and enjoy your life I relish in it because I know it will only be a matter of time before that hope and that joy you feel will be crushed by me when you least expect it.

Though you’re special. You can’t really get rid of me. You can try but I will never fully go away. Your hope. Your salvation could be a few feet in front of you reaching out for you to grab its hand and you will pull away because you have grown so used to me being in the back of your mind like some ichorous cancer that cannot be cut out. You pull away from that hope because you think in the long run I will just destroy it like I have so many other things. That’s how I feed and you taste so very, very good.

That’s when you finally shut down. Physical pain and emotional pain are one in the same. You grow numb. You don’t even need me anymore to ruin everything that was good or ever will be good in your life. I win. You drift and that is all you ever do. You partake in fleeting pleasures that mean absolutely nothing and that just feeds my gluttonous ego even more. You give into your anger. You give into your jealousy. You give into your laziness. You give into lust. You topple.

You can’t understand what anyone will ever see in you. You’re as far as you can go and trying is no longer an option. You’re too weak. You start asking “what if?” like it even matters. There are so many things in the past you wish you could have changed and it all started with that one shitty day you scraped your pitiful little knee and felt that pain for the very first time.

The day you met me.


Giant Confessions

I have to admit when it comes to being a fictional writer you have to have a least a little bit of an inner “geek”. Whether it is the supernatural, a strong fantasy world, or some distant galaxy light years away, there is something inside of us all that we just go “fanboy” or “fangirl” over. Anyone who denies this is not only lying straight to your face but is lying to themselves as well. I feel bad for those people.

In any case for me my go to source of being a geek is none other than the King of Monsters himself: Godzilla.


You don't fuck with this guy

You don’t fuck with this guy

I can’t remember the exact year I was introduced to the G-man but when I was I was instantly hooked. To my knowledge Godzilla has the most movies under his belt, rivaling James Bond for the number of movies made. Off the top of my head I think there are well over thirty full feature-length movies to date and, of course, the upcoming one that inspired this post.

Despite having over thirty movies I can probably understand how a lot of people have no idea who Godzilla is or why he had such an impact. This is understandable as most of those thirty movies made were filmed in Japan with only I believe three Godzilla movies having a theatrical release in America. Those who remember the first American version was released back in 1998 and while I thought it was a decent representation of Godzilla I can understand why the majority of people hated that movie. The second was Godzilla 2000, another Japanese made film and finally, after fourteen long years we have Godzilla coming to us the way he was meant to be on May 16th of this year.

So I guess the question remains other than childhood nostalgia why all the excitement? The truth is I think it has to do with scale. The phrase “bigger is always better” and in terms of action and excitement you cannot get much bigger than Godzilla himself. Though I have to admit I am a sucker for giant monster movies and I always will be. “Cloverfield”, “Pacific Rim”, and even the very underrated “Eight Legged Freaks” just make me sit in awe.

It might also have something to do with uniting the human race. Think about it for a second . . . it seems to be that in movies that threaten the human species or just a populace we put our differences aside in order to preserve ourselves. When humans experience something that is far greater than what we are, whether it be in physicality or intelligence, all the hate, all the anger, and all the animosity we have towards one another goes right out the window. That’s right folks I’m saying it right here and right now: in order to achieve world peace we need to be threatened by a 350 foot tall radioactive lizard. That is the only way it will happen. And even then it’ll be a short lived peace.

Disclaimer: Godzilla and the images used are all copyrighted by Toho and Legendary Pictures.