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Close your eyes and make a wish

I don’t know why I titled my post this way.

Mostly because I was too busy trying to dictate “hm what should I write, what would look best to any agents that may peruse my blog in order to determine my worthiness”

Eh, how about honesty.

So I said to myself “just close your eyes and… make a wish!” I meant to say “write” but oh well.

Ok, I’ll do that. No I won’t. I’m done wishing. I’m here to DO, now, and what I do is write, and massage, and live, and try to love others the best I can, and I act, and I do improvisational comedy, and what is one of the number one rules of improv?

Just jump out there and fucking do it. Just fucking SAY it. What are you doing? Fucking SAY it! Tell the audience where you are, what you’re doing, who you and your partner are to each other. Don’t leave us guessing, don’t make us wonder. Just fucking SAY IT. (In the words of our artistic director).

That’s a wonderful approach to life itself, and all the relationship paradigms within our realities. Just fucking say it. I took that approach recently with someone I am very close with and felt myself losing them. Time will tell. But it feels good to just fucking SAY IT.

We’ve been ruined by sitcom-culture. Short attention spans, unwitty humor, only follow small plot lines, won’t get to the point, pussyfoot around the tough parts, always expect a pleasant outcome but never make the effort to get there, and if it lasts more than 22 minutes we’re done with it.

It ruins relationships, because it gives us unrealistic expectations. Boy always gets the girl, siblings always fight, best friends always stay best friends (unless the plot makes them better enemies), parents always argue, lovers never argue or always get over their argument quickly (within 22 minutes, in fact).

It gives people unrealistic expectations of their fellow humans here on earth. It makes people lump together “good advice” as to how things “Are” or “should be” and pass it around social media like a fucking virus. None more so than in the relationship category.

“If things are meant to be, they’ll find a way”

“If someone really wants to spend time with you, they’ll make time, no matter how busy they are”

“A real man/woman will never break your heart”

There are so many more, but the fact is, all this good-intentioned “advice” is PURELY EGOTISTICAL.

It is the advice of one person who lost out on what they thought something SHOULD BE, and decided to tell others that if theirs WASN’T what it SHOULD BE, it wasn’t meant to be at all.

So if he doesn’t spend a lot of time with me and he’s very busy and his awkward self sometimes says things he doesn’t realize hurts my feelings and rarely texts back means, according to typical relationship advice (that I avoid at all costs) that he doesn’t love me, doesn’t care about me, nothing is real, it won’t grow, it’s not meant to be. Because if it was, he wouldn’t say hurtful things, he wouldn’t work, he’d spend all his time and money on me, and it’ll happen magically with little to no effort on anyone’s parts.

Get out of that fantasy.

Real relationships of ANY paradigm take some work. Mostly they take honesty and compromise, that I’ve noticed. Be honest with how you feel. You may think “he doesn’t spend enough time with me, he must not like me” but have you actually SAID IT? “I don’t feel like we spend enough time together, it makes me insecure about how you feel about me.” Guess what is possible, even though we rarely see it anywhere BUT a sitcom (which doesn’t do the talking for us, you know.) IT’S POSSIBLE TO TALK THINGS OUT. And even come to an even more satisfying conclusion than if the conclusion you were looking for was storybook perfection. Because the downfalls in all relationships always build depth, so that the good sides can have much more meaning than if the bad had never happened.

And sometimes there are deeper issues causing problems that typical relationship advice does not take into consideration (because relationships can never be uncomfortable, and deeper issues are uncomfortable).

All anyone WANTS to hear is, “if it doesn’t feel perfect, it’s not meant to be”

So we search all our lives looking for the one that makes us feel “perfect”, and since there IS NO SUCH THING in the reality of our human egos, to feel “perfection” it gives us the perfect excuse to avoid working out actual problems.

And when we do find what we perceive to be “perfection” quickly falls apart when our idealizations of one another give way to imperfection and we can’t handle it.

You know what a real relationship is?

Two entirely flawed people making it work.

You put in the effort you wish to receive from the relationship, and you make it work. Sometimes, especially in the beginning or the beginning of a necessary change, this effort is one-sided. If it’s meant to be… You’ll keep on trying.

Fate or destiny or whatever, may be what gives us the opportunity. But we need to take that opportunity and utilize it, fate won’t do the hard work for us. This isn’t sitcom, this isn’t movies. Things CAN “just happen” but then it’s up to you to keep it going, determine whether it is good for you, whether you are ready to put in that work or the time isn’t right, just keep on moving, or go for it. Relationships don’t come with instructions. The simple thing to remember is, all you can do is what’s best for you. And sometimes what’s best, is putting forth the work in order not to lose the best thing that ever happened to you. Because even though every moment may not be perfect, and in fact, as of late, most moments have been worse than the last, you still recognize its purpose in your life. It just opens another opportunity in healing.

If it feels entirely wrong, then walk away.

The fact that neither has, to me, says something big.

The bigger truth is, sometimes it just takes faith. Effort and faith. I like that. Then you’ll find things starting to get easier and flow more smoothly.

Don’t be afraid to look or sound like an idiot and just fucking say what you mean.

Nobody’s perfect. I sound like an idiot all the time.

Now I do it with complete honesty.

I FUCKING HATE NEGATIVE EMOTION

There, I’ve had my say.

Even I didn’t know this was so bottled up inside of me until I started writing this post. Dude.

Awesome.

Have a beautiful day,

Stacey

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The Cricket That Could

Once there was a cricket that fell down a hole in our sink

Holy cow we said, and started to think

It wasn’t just a sink down there, it wasn’t just a hole

That side was the one with the garbage disposal

Drama. Everyone was instructed not to use that side and a wooden spoon was left inserted in the hole in the hopes the little guy would figure out how to crawl back out, not able to fathom the idea of his losing his little life in such a horrid way.

It worked! Once we waited long enough and left it alone, he crawled up and escaped on his own.

The moral of this story?

fldcrckt

Don’t jump in sinks.

Goodnight my friends!!

Stacey

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“To survive, you must tell stories.”

-Umberto Eco

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cover    For more information on my published novels, click here!

thevillagepoetpress  Visit The Village Poet Press (My publishing company)

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Life Lessons Learned Hard

You know those moments. The times where something presents itself to you that seems so right. Where you know it is the perfect opportunity. Yes, it’s perhaps a little askew from your original plans, but the opportunities are potential to be endless!

Who cares that you’ve got a little internal debate going inside of you the very moment that opportunity came knocking at your door. Is it right for me? YES! Is it truly right for me? N-… YES!

Only GOOD can come of it.

I’ve been entirely fucked over by this phenomena before. Even now, as I am in the process of personal growth, learning to listen to my intuition and meeting myself from the inside out, even now I am amazingly vulnerable to it. Why? That person seemed so sincere.

I caught myself this time. My conscious still does not yet understand exactly why I said no, and I shall not give it the pleasure of trying. Some things just are. And others aren’t. I recieved the same feeling from this opportunity as the one that got me hanged at the salon. Whether it is because it’s not in my original plans (the ones that are going so well and need not be messed with) or a forewarning to something unpleasant- I listened this time.

My very best advice to you right now. If it seems wrong, even in the most minute miniscule little way, it IS. The closer it came to that meeting, the sicker I began to feel. The moment I nicely called to cancel, I began to feel better. I’m not 100% yet, but that’s probably because I’ve been having this internal debate over the entire weekend.

I feel fortunate that I caught it in time, rather than being screwed over again. This is a type of situation that has presented itself multiple times in my life, it is now time to learn the lesson it was presenting me with. Just because something looks good on paper (so to say) doesn’t mean it is. And shove my ego aside just long enough to let me see the bigger picture, to give me the opportunity to say “this sounds wonderful, but I think I’ll pass.”

Ah, yes, so there we go. Time to go make some dinner, take it easy, and congratulate myself on one more lesson learned in this life. Even if it is a little hard.

Stacey

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“A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit.”

-Richard Bach

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cover    For more information on my published novels, click here!

thevillagepoetpress  Visit The Village Poet Press (My publishing company)

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Random Googling

In the face of boredom, that small time in which you’re EXHAUSTED yet not-quite-tired-enough-to-sleep, which may actually be a sorry case of too-tired-to-sleep in which my body both craves a coma and strong cup of coffee (or 1,126), I decided to combat my pre-sleep boredom by…. Random Googling!

How does it work?

I sign into google images and look up (one word at a time) the first word that pops in my head. then I save the first picture that pops up, and post it here. And since I just began, Lord knows what I’m going to find!

Word: PRETTY

RandomImage1

She is pretty, but I was hoping for something a little more exciting. Let’s see what the next word brings us.

Word: INTRIGUING

RandomImage1Intriging

I think “Intriguing” suits this picture…. As does “creepy”….

Word: NAUGHTY

Santa Edward??

Santa Edward??

(Note: This was a dangerous word to google, I know, but I had to see what it came up with. This wasn’t the FIRST picture that came up, as the first was a little too “naughty” for my blog, but this was definitely my first pick!)

Word: DANGEROUS

RandomImageBear

I’ll say.

(Not the first pic, again I have to break my rule a little. The first picture that came up was an image of the album cover for Michael Jackson’s “Dangerous”. Boring. So I chose the most awesome pic instead.)

Word: BORING

RandomImageBoring

Word: TRIUMPHANT

RandomImageTriumphant

This man makes ME feel triumphant!

Word: EXTRAVAGANT

"Extravagant" doesn't even begin to cover it.

“Extravagant” doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Word: BODACIOUS

RandomBodacious

??

I was hoping for something more like this;

RandomBillandTedOr;

I got this by googling "Bodacious Babe".

I got this by googling “Bodacious Babe”.

This one too.

This one too.

Last one!

Word: EPIC

(No cheating, I actually chose the FIRST one that came up, not the one I wanted)

RandomEPIC

 

That concludes this evening’s version of “Random Googling” Until Next Time!!

Stacey

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“I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity”

-Edgar Allan Poe

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cover    For more information on my published novels, click here!

thevillagepoetpress  Visit The Village Poet Press (My publishing company)

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The Best “Wrong Job” Ever Done!

moneytunnel

So this is what my brain looked like last night, when I realized I had ONE day to get my finances finished and sales taxes figured out, as it was due in full TODAY. Yikes. I couldn’t remember how he told me to fill out the form! I blanked on everything! Context: My state’s sales tax is 6%. The form wanted me to write down the figures for 4%. Why?? (Answer: State tax) It wanted a city code, for which city I made money in. It said 1%! Why?? (Answer: I had the wrong code) And where the hell does the other 2% come in that makes up that 6%?? (Answer: City tax)

So, here is what I did. I did the math for 4%, the math for 5% (in case the 1% city tax code was the right one) and 6% since I knew state tax was 6% (That’s what I pay when I shop in this city, anyway). I will wholeheartedly admit to not being a mathematician. But I managed it. Then I took the form, since the tax man had VERY enthusiastically pointed out to me last time that I HAVE to put the city code down for each transaction (I thought he meant to put down each transaction, not just if the transaction took place in different cities) and I wanted to be prepared, I itemized everything on the form, and brought precise money to pay for either 4%, 5% or 6%). Very precise. Very accurate. Very wrong.

I approached the lady at the front desk by showing her the form and telling her, “I’m pretty sure this is wrong, but I did my best.” She laughed and took it, looking it over and said, “I’m pretty sure it’s wrong too, but it’s very precise.” She called the tax man to let him know I was there and needed to go over the form with him.

While I waited, we joked around, the nice lady and I, about the weather, about taxes, so on and so forth. I explained an abridged version of how I came to do the form the way I did, and she laughed and told me, “If it helps, it’s the best “wrong job” I’ve ever seen!” LOL. I cracked up. Because in fact, it did help. If I was going to do it wrongly, at least I did it thoroughly. She said she sees people throw stuff together, get their figures wrong, hope they won’t notice, do sloppy work. This was the most precise way to do it wrong she’d ever seen, hahaha. I am actually proud for that. Even the tax man was impressed by it, lol. (And not in a mean way). Plus, I got to meet a really nice lady today and I got a nice thorough explanation for exactly how to fill out the form and the accurate code for the city (I was a digit off. It was a 2% code I needed but the only one I found was a 1% code that is added on top of the 6% in certain cases, such as if I worked in restaurant, sold alcohol, or did business on an “Indian” reservation.) So it wasn’t that bad of a situation. I learned a good lesson, and was very grateful the man took the time to help me fill out a new form box by box instead of just running through it and telling me to bring it back later. Next time, I know what to do, lol.

And I’m pretty sure I gave them both a funny story to tell, too.

Anyway, now I know how to do it in the future, and in the future I will do it as I go along instead of waiting for the last moment. And hope that next time, I’ll have more to not have to itemize, hehe.

Stacey

*******************************************************************************

“I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity”

-Edgar Allan Poe

*******************************************************************************

cover    For more information on my published novels, click here!

thevillagepoetpress  Visit The Village Poet Press (My publishing company)

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My fancy Italian journal and sleek English pen

(First of all, I want to say thank you to Jay, my best friend and editor, for sending me these items,  because I know she reads my blog and is probably going to hate that I’m mentioning her in my post 🙂 )

So here I am writing in my beautiful new blank journal (made in Italy) that my friend Jay just sent me, along with the beautiful new silver pen (Made in England), and think, “Wow, this would be a perfect writing tool to carry around with me.” See, I’ve been needing to carry something with me to make notes in, write down what people say, make lists of stuff I have to do, so on, so forth. Especially now that I am networking more, I can’t remember everything everyone says all the time.

And then, then the curse of productivity hits, and I blame the blank pages and fancy pen in my hand. I realize with these new tools, it’s going to make it a lot less easy to be unproductive and procrastinate. In half an hour I just went from debating to myself “Aw, this would be helpful if I did this….” (Usually a weeks long procrastination- I mean, project.) Now, in less than half an hour after writing down my ideas, I’m about to actually get started on the project itself. Not in “oh wouldn’t it be nice” form, but “this is how I’m going to do it” the pre-step to something ACTUALLY HAPPENING.

So, in retrospect, I must realize this book and this pen are not the enemies here. They are simply… magic. Magic that forces me to actually DO things instead of just think about them.

Now my mind is blown.

And I must get on with my project, because stopping in the middle to write this blog is bordering magic blasphemy, and I hate to think that happens when I go against something magical (Isn’t it, in books, that when something magical gets thwarted, something bad usually happens?) I don’t want to prove the magic book and pen wrong. I’ll keep a healthy fearful respect of them, and clear off my shelves.

Your crazy blogger,

Stacey

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Finances, Chocolate Chips and Sake

Here we go. It’s all about the Benjamins, baby. (Hah, wait, I don’t see any bens in these files…) I’m doing my finances. Especially, most importantly, my business finances. Creating expenditure and profit lists, client information lists, that sort of thing. That was last night, I stayed up until five AM doing this.

Tonight, it’s time to catch up on my SOAP notes (Subjective, Objective, Action, Plan) that is legally required following massage.

OMG, this post is so boring I just about fell asleep. Or it could be the Sake. Yum. I came home from my last massage of the day to find an open bottle of Sake sitting out. So, naturally, I helped myself to some. I’m also making dinner. The problem is, I worry that some nice gentle rice wine and curry (do those two often go together? Never mind, I’m going to be done with the Sake far before dinner’s done cooking) will make me drowsy.

And the original title of this blog was not-so-destined to be “Hands Off The Kindle” Why? Because it’s been my go-to device whenever I need a break from life, and it’s become somewhat of a crutch as of late. And guess what, I’ve needed that quite often lately. Sick nieces and sick grandmothers and major life changes and jackass boyfriends aside, whew, I’m a little worried I may be getting overwhelmed.

Then, comes flush that warming feeling deep inside that alcohol tends to provide during times like these, along with the slightly increased amount of erase-and-retypes.

Everyone has a favorite book. Everyone has a book that they read and say, “God I wish I was there.” That speaks to them on so many levels, in so many ways, that you find a piece of yourself in every character, you can relate to the way this person speak, that person acts, even the side characters- hell, sometimes even the enemies- provide you with that little feeling inside of belonging and hope. And that, my friends, is the whole point of stories.

Excuse me, while I ensure my curry is not burning, and add the tomatoes.

Wait, I just answered my own question. Sake DOES go with curry, because I’m serving my curry dish with rice, and Sake is rice wine (the only wine I can stand, by the way)

And in what universe does “My grandmother is sick in the hospital and I may have to go there in the morning and then I work all day tomorrow and I’m busy in the evening, so I will call you on Saturday” equates to “Yes I will drop everything and have dinner with you tomorrow” ? Sorry to say, not MY universe, whether certain people expect it or not. I honestly do not feel that text deserves a reply, so it is not getting one.

Right, yes. The books. The stories. They’re escapes, are they not? To be someone else for just a little while, to live their lives, to follow their stories, their adventures and share with them their emotions and life. I can very easily see how reading can become anyone’s escape, unfortunately, I fear that not enough people nowadays use it as such. More people need to read, is my opinion. Nowadays, people turn to Sake and other alcoholic beverages. The only issue is that I cannot do finances and read and blog and catch up with my SOAP notes and work on story boards and decide whether or not to turn my Legends franchise into an actual publishing company (purely for the sake of easier taxes, perhaps) or not, if I am reading. Which is why I have been reading so much. (You know, doing what you don’t really feel like doing being impossible while reading… Definitely an appeal there…) But it occurs to me simply that I am avoiding a lot of things right now. SOAP notes being the least of them.

Oh dear, yes I know I’m not the only one with issues. But see, my favorite characters’ issues I can share in and not have to take actual responsibility for. But I can live it, and feel how they are resolved, and feel good at the end of the book. Life just isn’t like that.

I am making a dire mistake. I am taking an emotional day and topping it off with Sake and the song “The End of The Innocence” By Don Henley. The last genuine year of my childhood, 1996. After that it was nothing but taking care of the sick and injured and sacrificing my own needs to ensure things and people stuck together. This is the first year I’ve focused solely on me. And even then, I’m not solely focusing on me.

But I remember the sunshine, riding my bike in the bright sunlight and gentle Oregon winds minutely scented with a touch of comforting sea air, the tall grass swaying, the summer evenings of my childhood dipping into soft dusk, then night time, where I would read and assure myself that the sun would rise again the next day. And it always did. As it always does.

What is a one sided relationship anyway? In short, exhausting. Bringing up my favorite (one of) sayings;

“Trying to understand the behavior of others is like trying to smell the color 9”

It brings me great comfort when I find myself stressing and trying to figure out exactly how someone’s mind can take someone else’s tragedy and somehow make it about themselves. And no matter what I do and say, it will always be about them.

No, sorry honey, that’s not how my universe works. And never will it, I don’t have the patience, energy or lack of self-respect to be the minority in a relationship. My world is equal grounds, or my grounds are off limits. The end.

I wonder if I may regret this post come time for me to be less warm inside. Probably not. I’m on the warm side, not yet tipsy, and not desperate enough to become so. Just taking the edge off the planet, is all.

Off comes the edge, in comes the realization that I need to take care of myself. With that comes the brutal point I MUST concede that sleep, right now, is more important than SOAP notes, more important than math and finances, more important than story boards and indecisive decision making. So here is my plan. Put leftovers away. Drink a ton of water. Go to bed.

Hopefully the nightmares will hold off for a night, and I can get restful sleep, and maybe feel prepared for my day this time.

But probably not. Not with everything going on.

At least this is my second to last day at the store. That’s going to help A LOT.

Good night, my dear friends.

Stacey

 

 

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Is This Supposed To Be Saint Patty’s Day Themed?

starting-drunken-brawl-first-st-patricks-day-ecard-someecards

Have you ever had one of those nights that so many thoughts are going through your head you can’t keep track of them all? They rush by so fast you can’t grip a’one of them greased pigs to hold them still long enough to figure them out.

Of course you have, we all have!

Well that’s the night I’m having. That’s the night I’ve been having for the past week. It’s put a damper on my ability to sleep and function like a normal person might (whatever normal is, and whatever my ‘normal’ happens to be.)

As I think to myself, “What do my precious followers want to read from me tonight?” A number of things go through my mind. The ones that slow down enough to glimpse? My penchant for being a Grammar Nazi? NAH. Music? MAYBE. Probably not. WRITING. Maybe! Maybe? Um, the new book I bought (called “The Well-Spoken Thesaurus” by Tom Heehler) but that may just lead me into Grammar Nazi mode and nobody wants me to go there.

We’ll go with writing. It has the least amount of “hell no’s” attached.

First, I must say, “You Can Do It” By Ice Cube (which just started playing on my new Ipod) is not the appropriate music to read literary quotes with.  There we go. Bach.

Our subject being Poetry, I propose to speak not only of the art in general but also of its species and their respective capacities; of the structure of plot required for a good poem…” -Aristotle, The Poetics.

Along with wonderful suggestions on how to word things not so commonplace, which is helping my writing tremendously, this book also has some damn fine quotes.

Anyway, that’s right… writing.

I wish us writers were still referred to as “poets”, regardless of whether we write poetry or not. Once upon a time, anyone who took up a pen and parchment was referred to as “the poet” and I believe that term had a certain sort of (pardon the pun) poetical aspects to it. Also, a respectable aspect as well.  We may be seen as flighty, or scruffy, artistic and maybe a little odd- but it was well respected. Nowadays, I tell someone I’m a writer, and they say a noncommittal “oh, how nice” and move on. Has it now eluded the common man that writing, no matter what it is that is being written, is no more simple or commonplace than it is to paint a masterpiece of art?  After all, writing is nothing but a painting of words, a mural pieced together by those of us who see words for all the fine color and beauty they are.  I am both an artist and a poet (in the modern literal and past respective meaning of the word) and I tell you, it feels exactly the same to paint as it does to write. The same places in my body, mind and soul are active- and what, besides these two functions (and music) can you say awakens all three parts of the complete human?

Out of many who shrug it off as more-or-less an “eccentricity” or “laziness” to be overlooked or “tolerated” from me when I say I am a writer, are the ones who assume I am in it for the money. This bunch I like to refer to politely as “ignorant”. Everyone has heard of the term “starving artist” Well then, “starving poet” quite applies in most scenarios as well. Furthermore, even if I was somehow “getting rich” from my writing, I’m appalled at the inference that money is the only reason I do it.

The Utopians wonder how any man should be so much taken with the glaring doubtful luster of a jewel or stone, that can look up to a star, or to the sun himself.” Sir Thomas More, Utopia

It is because of these attitudes that I consistently fight the urge to feel lazy and unfit during the times I am writing, or sitting down to write. As we all know, writing takes time, and trying to figure out what to write takes longer. To sit here and do nothing but think, and wonder, and come up with ideas to discard and reexamine, then discard again, looks to others as a waste of time (trust me, I wish I had great amount more time in which to devote to my writing).  They say I should just write the whole time I set aside to write, if I should set aside any at all. To me, that’s like trying to paint a rainbow without mixing your colors. You can’t make a truly believable rainbow with the only three prime colors Red, Yellow and Blue. If I don’t contemplate my words thoroughly, then one of two things happens: 1. It comes out poorly and fake. And 2. It doesn’t come out at all. Everyone knows that writers can “suffer” from writer’s block on a fairly regular basis- I don’t need to feel lazy on top of it. It just distracts me from all the magnificent writing I COULD be creating.

It was only that, having written down the first few fine paragraphs, I could not produce any others- or, to approximate Gertrude Stein’s remark about a lesser writer of The Lost Generation- I had the syrup, but it wouldn’t pour.” William Styron, Sophie’s Choice.

I realize times have changed quite phenomenally, even from when I was a little girl, curled up in bed with a book begging my mother to let me finish “just one more chapter” before bed (then trying to see how many chapters I could get in before she came back to “remind” me that I was allotted just “one” more chapter- I can’t tell you how many books I finished this way. “I’m almost done with the chapter, I promise!”) to nowadays, when the most reading I do on days I don’t write includes the horrendous forced short-hand of texts with the even more horrendous awareness that current education is failing this new generation- It’s appalling. I’m not saying one has to know how to spell to magnificent proportions, or that short-hand is a bad thing (with 160 word limits on my texts, I am a sad-to-say habitual user of texting short-hand myself) but the attitude looked upon (and down) the written word, the lack of effort put into its productivity and completion, the lack of caring one has pertaining to the way they “sound” when they write is… how should I put this delicately? Borderline stupidity? Ignorance not to be ignored? Ignorance of the worst kind, indeed. Regardless of the technological era and the fact that our children nowadays can name hundreds more video games than they possibly could species of flower or animal or even book titles, people still fail to realize that more than half of communication we do (ESPECIALLY during this technological age, with the internet readily available and texting now easier than dialing a call) is WRITTEN. Why can we not find it in ourselves to learn to use our words properly?

By profession he is, or has been, a scholar, and scholarship still engages, intermittently, the core of him.” J.M Coetzee, Disgrace

I’ll admit now, I am little less than screwed if I did not have my computer’s spell check (from a publication standpoint, where professionally published novels and their readers are unforgiving of more than a couple spelling errors). But I do not turn it off and I do not choose to ignore it- I learn from it. Every red underlined word I find I MUST understand WHY it is “wrong” (if indeed it is). This creates new learning every time I write. Whether it be that I mistyped a word I know, and how to train myself from making the same mistake again, learning to spell a new word or even an old word I can’t for the life of me remember how to spell- it isn’t a cheat. It’s a learning tool. Did anyone ever refer to a dictionary as a cheat? I use dictionaries, thesauruses and the internet to define words for me all the time, and often learn better ones to use in their stead. In conclusion: Words just fascinate me. Maybe I’m being too harsh on the rest of the world to say they should learn to spell correctly. Maybe I’m sounding pompous. Or maybe, just maybe…

This new “trend” of short-hand texting coupled with the deplorable education system of this nation is driving me crazy. “What” is not “Wut”, “Brother” is not “Bruther”, “Psycho” is not “Syco” I mean, I realize many schools start out their kindergarteners and first-graders with their words using phonetics and sounds- but then they seem to forget to teach them the rest. English is not a sound-based language, sad to say. The WORST advice I got BY FAR in school was this: “Just sound it out.”

Oh boy, I think I’ve trailed into Grammar Nazi land again. I realize I’ve dedicated my life to the written word (among other things) but it is not my place to correct others, I realize that. If the urge to correct others drives me this insane, perhaps I should have pursued being a teacher instead (I’ll pass).

No, us poets were meant to learn our words and utilize them to the best of our abilities. Not everybody is meant to be a poet. Just like not everyone is meant to be a mathematician. As I am sitting here complaining of the atrocious spelling I find all around me, somewhere out there is a Math Nazi blogging “Why can’t they just learn simple division??” Or “She” in my case. There’s my own piece of humble pie, served straight from Humbledoore to my ego’s mouth-watering appetite.

Chomp Chomp. Nom Nom.

… And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief…” T. S. Eliot, The Waste Land

There is something to be said for the technological age. The fact that I can cart around 1000 (more or less) books in something the size of a paperback novel and read it wherever I want. That I can listen to Bach and Beethoven with headphones as I write and not madden the others in my vicinity. THAT I HAVE THE ABILITY TO WRITE AT ALL. This computer, a modern-day poet’s savior. I have written well over 3,000,000 words in my 19 years as a writer (my first published writing was a well-worded book review at the age of nine) I could not even get half that down (or anywhere close) if all I had was an ink pen and parchment. Everything I’ve written by hand, I’ve altered and added upon transferring to an electronic device.

But, in my stubbornness, my penchant for the old fashioned, and in yearning for respect as a writer, I still maintain it would be fantastic if us writers were once again referred to as the “poets” of our society.

Of Life immense in passion, pulse, and power, Cheerful, for the freest action form’d under the laws divine, The Modern Man I sing.” Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, Book 1 “Inscriptions”

I am by no means laying claim to the theory that my writing is in any way shape or form better or worse than my fellow poets. But I write from the heart, always. Leaving me to leave you with this one last quote, taken from the book but with no explained source:

If his performance was not electrifying, at least it was believable.

Thank you, and Happy Saint Patrick’s day.

Stacey

myownstory

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Big News

Big news in both career departments.

Let’s start with the biggest.

I AM NOW A LICENSED MASSAGE THERAPIST!! (Throwing pretend confetti and drinking fake celebratory booze and dancing with myself as if there’s no tomorrow) Yay! I have so many things to say about this but…. The words elude me. I think I need to let a few happiness tears fall first. I want to thank everyone for their support. I had so many people online and off that supported me through all of this, it was amazing.

The other news.

I am almost done with book 3. I am about one week away from finishing the first half to the satisfaction of the internet, which coincides perfectly with the time I will begin posting snippets 🙂 Publication date is set for March 13th, so be on the lookout for wordpress snippets coming soon!

I have so, so many things to blog about, my mind is racing (Oh dear, when isn’t it) but this time, it’s racing with so many things…. things that I find genuine inspiration in…. and want to share with you all so much. But I have work in a few minutes, and unfortunately, I wounded my wrist a little and it’s not keeping up with the pace in which I want to write. Does that ever happen to other writers? I wonder. How, if you are unable to keep up the pace of typing to match your mind, you lose your flow. Hm. I know that happens all the time to me, lol.

Well…. Yup, time to work. Hopefully once this wrist heals and I can begin working on my massage career, I can do less work at the store and retain some sanity. I love the store, I love the people there, but I’m eager to begin this new facet of my life.

Have a wonderful day everyone!!!

Stacey

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Going Out On A Limb (I’ll pick out the splinters later)

OK, so I don’t know how productive it is to my career as an author to admit that I am dyslexic and have a photographic memory (most dyslexics do) so this is a somewhat awkward topic for me to decide to write about (the possible splinters I may need to pull from the flesh of my career later) but I am writing a blog about it because it is a situation that has caused many grievous moments for me, and as the sole author, main editor and the person in charge of the sixteen hundred different jobs that go into the book publishing process, from first draft to publishing and beyond… It can very well get in the way.

First off, I’m going to tell you what spawned my breakdown and sudden urge to write this blog, ignoring the six other topics I was originally going to choose from for tonight’s post. I am working on a somewhat interactive website for The Legends of Sangue (my series) (Check it out, so far it’s freakin awesome)  I say somewhat because there’s links to push to get to different character or book bios, not necessarily little animated- anything, lol. But it’s fun, its simple, it’s a riot and a half to write.

I am in the middle of pasting a disclaimer on each page (my original topic for tonight’s post, it’ll have to wait) and I decide to reread the synopsis for Blood of Darkness. Now giving you a bit of insight into me, I reread my writing, EVERYTHING (from novels, to emails to a note on a white board at work) at least six times, each time I see it for the next few hours to days, and occasionally from then on out (Yup, you guessed it, mild OCD).  This, in regards to novel writing and editing, is a godsend. This obsessive habit has saved my dyslexic ass I don’t know how many times.

This being my favorite synopsis of any I’ve written for this book over the years, or any I’ve written for ANY book period, I do rather enjoy rereading it occasionally. It contains the word “spilt” (No that’s not the reason I love it. Ok, so not ONLY the reason I love it. It’s such a dramatic variation of “spilled”, it sends tingles down my spine) BUT… Every single time I see the word, I read “split” It’s just how I see this word. I must go over the word three times before I see it correctly. Now, I know exactly what it says so I don’t bother forcing my brain to register it anymore in my synopsis, because I know what it says and I’ve already got the mental imagine in my mind.

You probably think I’m going to say I really did spell it “split” and didn’t notice for the longest time. If there is anything I am in ANY aspect of my life, it’s diligent.

But just a few words away, is a mistake I have overlooked for nearly a year now, since the synopsis was written. I was so busy focusing on ensuring “spilt” wasn’t “split”, that I wrote “breaths” where “breathes” should be, and NEVER noticed. Until now. I was rereading it, and somehow the mental images just didn’t click right (this, by the way, happens to be how I am able to edit my work. If what I read doesn’t flow together in my mind like a movie, as each word has a picture to it, I know to stop and search out the wrong word.) So I looked into it. BAM. There it was.

The worst part? I copy and pasted this synopsis from something. And I can’t remember what. So somewhere, in some public domain that I have my book description posted, is a typo. (I already checked the book description on Amazon. Nope.) Is this the end of the world? No, of course not. Does it ruin my night? No. Is it frustrating beyond hell? Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?

I can’t let this get to me, because one little typo, honestly, isn’t worth the frustration. I think I’m doing pretty damn good all things considered. And for anyone else in the same or similar boat, don’t let your frustrations get to you either. The best thing to do is correct it, smile, and move on. Let it go. It happens. Write a blog about it.

I’ll have more later, but for now, it’s dinner time 😉

Stacey ( I just spelled my own name Stacye, haha… perfect timing)

P.S. Really, check out my site for my series. It’s pretty nifty if I do say so myself. Tell me what you think! The Legends of Sangue

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