therandomavenger

[therandomavenger]

5 Ways to Get in Touch with Your Creativity

               A lot of people consider those of us who are labeled as ‘creatives’ a mystery. They don’t get it. ‘I could never do what you do,’ they say, and I am here to tell you that is patently untrue. All of us are born creative. We are usually in touch with it as children, and then somewhere along the way, it gets programmed out of us. We learn not to trust it. To think it’s silly. Especially if we judge that we’re not good enough at whatever creative endeavor to pursue it as a career. A life of creativity is considered the purview of a privileged few. But I’m here to tell you, it’s not. Even if you’re not employed in a so-called ‘creative career,’ your vocation calls for creative thinking. Creativity solves problems and creates opportunities (It can also create problems but that’s a whole other topic). In addition, creativity is part of our heritage as humans. It may be part of what makes us human. We cannot be fully fulfilled unless we find some way to express that innate creativity, in whatever way it feels natural to do so.

               So, here are some ways to get in touch with your creative side, even, or especially, if you don’t feel that you are a ‘creative person.’ Creativity is a muscle. It grows when it is used, and it can be developed.

1. Get in touch with your ‘inner child.’

               I don’t mean this is a ‘touchy-feely’ or pop psychology way. Or at least I don’t JUST mean that. Think back to when you were a kid. I’m thinking between the ages of 8-12 or so, before we start getting society’s messages that our creativity could be somehow embarrassing. When your time was your own, what could you be found doing (when not engaging with media like television and video games). Were you out exploring the neighborhood? Were you drawing, or painting, or coloring, or building with Legos, or making elaborate architectural designs for the house you were one day going to live in? Maybe you were enlisting your siblings/friends in elaborate games of pretend? Did you create complex storylines for your action figures? I would be willing to bet that you were doing something creative.

               As for myself, I was usually reading, writing stories, or drawing. Those are still things I love to do today (though I gave up drawing for decades because I didn’t think I was good enough) and are in fact the things I’ve built my present life around. If you can take yourself back to that time, and talk to that younger version of you, you will find the part of yourself that is most in touch with your creativity. It’s not that you must do those things again (though that helps), but that it will help you remember who you were before other people started telling you who you had to be. That is a vital part of the process.

2. Give Yourself an Assignment

               Nothing will activate your creativity like having a problem to solve. This does not have to be a high-stakes, life-or-death problem. It’s probably best if it’s not. But give yourself an assignment to carry out. Or have an assignment given to you. Take a class, either in-person or online (many of these are free). Or use a prompt generator for whatever area you wish to apply our creativity within. There are idea engines for design problems and writing prompts and all other sorts of creative endeavors. And it is best if the assignment has some sort of structure or limits. ‘Write me a story about anything you want’ will not be as inspiring as someone saying, ‘Write me a story about two people having a disagreement on the moon.’ I mean, that’s just an example I’m sure you can find a better prompt than that.

               This is what classes are good for. The assignments have parameters. And parameters do not limit creativity, they unleash it. It would probably help also if the area you worked with was not one you already have mastery of. Learning something new opens up parts of the brain that have long lain dormant. It can make you feel like an entirely new person. Despite what a lot of people think, your brain remains plastic throughout your life. You can learn new things at any age. You are not too old, and it is not too late. Nor are you ever too young.

3. Surround Yourself with Inspiration

               This could be a lot of things. I could be papering your workspace with beautiful works of art, or reading books that move you. Listening to stirring music. Going to new places and absorbing what you find there. Many people find they are inspired by natural locations, and that is true for me as well. But I also tend to get really inspired in the middle of big cities. Something about the energy of life going on around me, of humanity in close proximity, really gets to me and I end up having a thousand ideas. This could also be listening to online or in-person lectures with people who you find inspiring, or who have accomplished the things that you want to accomplish. Podcasts can also be a source of this.

               There is no one thing I can suggest. Everyone finds different things inspiring. I am moved by a lot of different types of art and nature. And what works for you can depend on the day. Also, while it is great to be comforted by things that are familiar, seeking out new experiences will activate your creativity like nothing else can. See a movie you’d never have considered before. Go to a play you’ve never heard of. Listen to a band outside your usual genre. Talk to someone interesting you’d usually never approach and listen to their life story (they would probably love to tell you). Figure out what really charges you up and take that creative energy into your everyday life.

4.   Get out of your head and into your body

               If you’re struggling with a creative problem, or just wanting to be inspired, and it’s not happening, the worst thing you can do is dwell on that situation. You will not have ideas by sitting down and trying to have ideas. Ideas usually sneak up on you when you’re doing something else. So, it can be good to get out of your own head and do something physical, leaving your brain to work on whatever it needs to work on in the backburner. This can be big things like running or hiking or exercise. But that is not an option for a lot of people, especially the chronically ill or physically disabled. But it can be anything that you do with your body, even things like knitting or crocheting, playing a board game, or building Lego sets (my fiancé swears by this). And while it’s not as physical as some other things, if you’re a gamer video games can serve that purpose here. Anything that distracts you and engages you while your brain works on the problem in the background.

5. Meditate

               Guys, I resisted this one for a long time. I didn’t think I had the executive function to meditate. But I found some guided meditations that worked for me free on YouTube and they’ve been a godsend. And by meditate, I do not mean to meditate on a specific problem, though that can sometimes help you break through. I mean develop a meditation practice, something that attaches you to your awareness and what you’re actually thinking and feeling. It’s a way to check in with yourself and understand what is really going on inside your head. You’d be surprised at how many of us have no idea about things like that. We just move from one stormy impulse to another and never seek clarity. Mediation is a way of seeking clarity and connecting with your inmost self. I’m definitely a believer these days. Before every writing session, I do a ten-minute guided mediation and it really clears out the distractions as well as the cobwebs.

               These are five ways to get in touch with your creativity. I won’t describe them as foolproof, but they are a place to start. Like I said, creativity is a muscle. It gets stronger when you use it.    

#creativity #blog post

[therandomavenger]

Liminal Space

I’m going to be honest here, people, it’s been a rough couple of weeks. I thought I had everything worked out with regards to my housing situation, but in the middle of march it became apparent that my fiancé and I were not going to be approved for a mortgage on my house, and my parents desperately needed to sell it, so the hammer fell. My fiancé moved back to his house and started working to get it out of the state that it was in. So, I had to move out of my house and in with my parents, which really makes you feel great about yourself when you are my age.

It is what it is. In six months, or so, my fiancé will be ready for me to move into his house, and that will happen. For now, I have taken over One and a half rooms in my parents’ house. I’m grateful they’re giving me a place to stay for a while, and we get along, in general, but it still has been a rough transition.

When bad things happen to me, such as when I suffer a loss, my general strategy is to pivot to whatever is next and focus on things that I can actually control. Now, as strategies go, that is not the worst one, but it usually means that I never deal with the big feelings the loss as brought up, sometimes never. I’ve been working through a lot of this in therapy, finally grieving things that happened years and years ago. And it’s allowed me to accept my role in some of what happened and speak honestly about for the first time.

So, when this happened, and it kind of happened out of the blue, for a lot of reasons I won’t go into here, I did what I usually did. I focused on moving my stuff and Jimmy’s stuff, deciding what was going where, renting a storage unit for the stuff I didn’t have room for but didn’t want to give away, then moving into my parents’ house and getting things set up in a way that suited me. None of those were bad things. They needed to be done. No actual mistakes were made in this stage. That was all the first week of April, which coincided with spring break.

Then, week two hit. I’d done all the stuff I was excited about, the stuff I’d pivoted towards. Now came the work of removing everything else from the house and doing the clean-up. It was a big job, and I started the process and then … I just kind of unraveled.

I didn’t sleep for four days, even though I felt extremely tired. I couldn’t face anything. I had fantasies about driving my car off a bridge (no serious ones, but still). My parents and my daughter and son and law were helping me in this stage. I got everything out that I wanted, and then just collapsed for a couple of days. Still not sleeping for more than an hour or two at a time once or twice a day. School had started again. I skipped all of my classes for a week. I did no work.  I don’t even remember exactly what it was I was actually doing. Nothing helpful, that’s for sure.

It just so happened that, on the Wednesday of that week, I had an appointment with my therapist. I was honest with her about what I was feeling, and said, “I don’t know why I’m like this right now. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” I think if she’d had a rolled-up newspaper she would have smacked me with it. She was like, “I know exactly why this happened. You just lost your home. This is grief. And also, probably a dysphoric mania episode. You did okay last week because you had something interesting to do and did not think about what was happening. Now … here you go …”

And she was right. That night, I took a larger than usual dose of my anxiety medication (which I’m allowed to do occasionally) and I finally slept through the night for the first time in a week. In the morning, I helped Dad with a dump run and then I went to my afternoon class. I emailed my professors and said basically, “Hi. I just moved and had kind of a mental breakdown, which is why I disappeared, and everything is late. But I’ back now and will catch up.” They were understanding. Turns out, I’m not the first student to take an unscheduled vacay in the middle of a semester.

So, I’ve taken the last few days to kind of embrace the grief and really feel the feelings, which is super uncomfortable. I’d much rather pivot, but that will only kick further mental breakdowns further down the road. So, yeah. I moved. I lost my home. The place I raised my children, the place I first became myself. The first place I lived with my fiance. And it wasn’t my choice. I don’t really know exactly what is coming next.

My fiancé and I are committed to living mostly apart for at least the next six months. Our relationship is fine. We are still planning on getting married (probably next summer), but a lot of stuff has come up for both of us and we both have some work to do. I won’t be discussing the nature of that work because it’s very personal, but we are still in love and committed to each other. Last year for a lot of reasons we sped-run through a lot of relationship milestones and it’s probably a good idea to pull back a bit and then move forward together from a stronger place. 

What’s going to happen in six months? I have some ideas, but I don’t really know. None of us really knows anything about the future, no matter how much planning and preparation we do.

So, I find myself in a sort of liminal space. The past is gone. The future is only in dim view. I find myself in the doorway between one place and another. I can’t stay in the doorway forever. But I can stay here for a while and enjoy what I can of my present circumstances. I have a roof over my head. I brought most of the stuff I loved about my house into my new space, so it feels like home.

I have a place to sleep and a place to work and even a place to relax. I spend at least one night a week at my fiance’s place. I am good for now, and as I write this, I realize that we are all of us in a liminal space, no matter our circumstances. The Past is gone. Any certainty we have about the future is an illusion. We live in an eternal now. But here’s the good news: present you has solved every problem you’ve ever had. It will continue to do so.

Of course, I’ve done no writing this month. But the house is finally sold and out of my area of concern. I left it for the last time this past Friday. I can finally move on to what’s next. And writing will begin again this week. The truth is, I have everything I need to be happy. I am thankful for the time I spent in my home, and the safe space it provided me to become myself fully and express myself in my environment, but I do not actually need it to live or feel safe. So, I thanked it for its service and said goodbye. And then cried in my car. Lol. Shut up.

This entire post is probably an overshare, but I don’t regret it. That’s the state of things. You can think you have things figured out, but sometimes life is waiting to ambush you. It’s a feature, not a bug. I will be okay. You will be ok if it happens to you.

#blog post #productivity #life lessons #starting over

[therandomavenger]

Preview of Curse of the Onyx Heart

Tilii Eldarion rarely ventured into the human district, but this morning he had a reason. One of the library’s patrons, a certain Mister Edgerton Sharpe, had a rare book he wanted to donate to the collection. He was house-bound due to an injury to his legs, and Librarian Silverthorn hadn’t wanted to trust this errand to a messenger, so Tilii, her trusted assistant, had been dispatched. Tilii didn’t mind. If he kept his hood up, no one would notice he was an elf. Not that it would be a problem in a city like Bright Harbor, but tensions in the human district were running high—something about a murdered councilor.

He’d taken the book from the old man, who had wanted to talk, and was making his way toward the university district — which operated independently, but technically belonged to the elves — when he found himself stopped by a crowd of people who were blocking the main thoroughfare, spilling out from the plaza. A man was standing on a box in the middle of the plaza, shouting into the crowd.

“We cannot let those who would be our overlords select our leadership! The Council should not be allowed to choose a replacement. We must demand a new election now! To preserve our own hegemony!”

There were some shouts in support, then a couple of people began to chant, “Maitland! Maitland!”

So, that’s why the man had looked familiar. Edrick Maitland was the printer Librarian Silverthorn had worked with over the course of the last few years, replacing much of the library’s collection with new, press-printed books, letting the old hand-printed ones go into storage where they could be better preserved.

Since he couldn’t move, Tilii watched the speech for a while. He couldn’t hear much of it over the murmuring of the crowd, but the implication was clear. Councilor Antares had been murdered by persons unknown because he was about to stand up to the elven members of the council, who had long ruled capriciously. And now, they wanted to appoint his replacement, when the human way was to hold an election and let the people decide.

Tilii almost laughed out loud. Let the people decide. People like this mob?

He knew, intellectually, that was how humans had selected their members of Bright Harbor’s grand council for hundreds of years. But it had never made much sense to him. Crowds of commoners given the power to make important decisions for themselves without training or even proper information. It made no sense.

Their elven leaders had been trained since birth to serve the people and could be counted upon to make good decisions. The elven elders, led by the great houses, appointed their leaders, who were usually bonded to lives of service. Like his father, who was an elder of Endurion, on the other side of the continent of Amalgra. The dwarves had a competition of skilled craftsman, their works judged for complexity and innovation. That made less sense than the elven way, but at least you were getting someone you knew was smart. For the halflings, their leaders were chosen after several days of competitions, both physical and mental. And the Orcs selected theirs through trial by combat. All of those methods made more sense than the humans, who let people make impassioned speeches, and then let other people vote on who gave the best speech. That was insane.

But that was, apparently, what Edrick Maitland was calling for. Tilii had thought him a more sensible man than that. Eventually, Maitland concluded his speech, and the crowd started to disperse, allowing Tilii to pass through into the university district. There, near the entrance plaza, was a building with the sigil of The Mages’ Guild etched into the glass of its window. Someday, Tilii hoped, he would be a member of that guild. Maybe that would make up for all his failures back in Endurion.

The streets were thick with pedestrians here as well, though most of the traffic was moving in the direction he wanted to go, so he made quick progress. He walked into the heart of the university plaza, to a large building made of stone, its windows covered in real glass. He pushed his way through the door and into the library proper. He stopped for a moment, removed his cloak, and hung it up on the hook that had been placed there for just such a purpose.

“You’re late. I thought perhaps I was working alone today.”

Tilii’s face colored as he recognized the voice. He tried to calm himself before facing her. Lydara. She was in the blue robes of a junior librarian, her short dark hair pushed skillfully back behind her ears. She was giving him that smile that made him want to come unglued, but he schooled his reaction and replied calmly, “Master Silverthorn wished for me to pick up a rare book in the human district. A donation.”

He held the book up and walked back toward the librarian’s office, hoping he looked official and impressive. The stacks were about shoulder-height, filled with books on the main floor. There were other floors, and hidden archives, but the main collection was here. Tilii had nearly reached the librarian’s door when he heard a loud thudding noise that sounded like a book being dropped on the floor. Who would do such a thing? He had to put a stop to it. He followed the noise to the middle of the room, where a young man was pulling books off the shelves and making a pile of them on the floor. Tilii got ready to yell at him. You don’t treat books that way, you just don’t!

“What are you doing?” Tilii asked, his voice almost a snarl. The young man pulled back, holding a large volume in his hand. These were all, fortunately, the newer printed books, which were not as susceptible to damage as the hand-copied tomes, not to mention more easily replaceable.

“Do you work here?” The young man asked. He was about a head taller than Tilii, about average height for a human, but as Tilii got a look at him, he realized he was not human—at least not entirely.

“Let’s see, blue robes, library seal on the chest. Of course I work here.”

The man scanned him, then smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. Sorry. I’m just … I’m looking for something and having trouble finding it.”

Tilii sighed. “And you’re authorized to use the library? Are you a student?” He scanned his clothes for the first time. He was wearing a martial tunic and pants. The tunic was white, with a flaming eye stitched in the center. The uniform of a paladin of the Order of the Burning Eye. So, not a student. Also, probably not authorized.

The young man shook his head. “I do have permission. My commanding officer sent me.”

“Do you have a note?”

“A note?”

“A note from your superior, preferably signed by our librarian. You can’t just come in here and throw books around.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just having a hard time sorting through everything.”

He had the height and slightly broader features of a human, but his ears were pointed like an elf’s. A half-elf then? Did that make any difference?

“Can you even read?” Tilii asked him.

The young man took in a breath, then seemed to count before letting it out. “Of course I can read,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Well, why are you throwing books on the floor?” Tilii went to the books and started picking them up. “What’s your name, anyway, so I know who to report.”

“My name is Ethan Brade,” the young man said. “Are books on the floor really such a big problem?”

“Are you joking?” Tilii gasped, incredulous. “Do you know what dust does to books?”

“I’m sorry?” Ethan said. “I just needed a place to put them.”

Tilii sighed. “Well, Evan, there is a table just over there you can stack them on.” He pointed toward the end of the aisle.

“Fine,” Ethan said. “Is there somebody who can help me find something? Someone besides you, since I seem to have offended you so badly.”

“First, I need to make sure you belong here,” Tilii said. “Come with me to see the librarian.”

Tilii did not miss the way Ethan rolled his eyes when he said, “Fine.”

GET THE BOOK HERE!

#Sword and Sorcery #fantasy books #book previews #curse of the onyx heart #Litrpg

[therandomavenger]

This is great!

Important rules/tips I've learned as an adult that helped with anxiety

If people are mad at you, it's their responsibility to tell you, not your responsibility to guess

If they're mad at you in secret anyways, they're the ones in the wrong, not you

If people don't like what you're doing, it's their responsibility to tell you

If they say it's fine when it's really not, they're the ones in the wrong, not you

People are allowed to be wrong about you

If they are wrong about you, wait for them to bring it up, because if you try to, you will inevitably overcorrect

Some people are committed to misunderstanding you. You will not win arguments against them. Yes, even if you explain your point of view. They do not care. Drop it

The worst thing that will happen from a first-time offense is being told not to do it again. Maybe with a replacement if you broke something

You can improve relationships and gauge willingness to talk to you by giving compliments. It's like a daily log-in bonus and nobody thinks twice about it

Most things are better after you sleep on them

Most things are better after you have a meal

Most things are better after you shower

Your brain makes up consequences that are irrational. If the worst DOES come to pass and someone acts like they do in your head, they are overreacting, and you are entitled to say "what the fuck"

If your chest hurts after you feel like you've made a social error, that's called rejection-sensitive dysphoria. It means your anxiety is so bad that it's causing you physical pain, which is a good indicator that you're overreacting. Tense yourself, hold it for 20 seconds, let it go, then find a distraction

If you're suddenly angry at someone after you feel like you made a social error, that's also rejection-sensitive dysphoria. You are going to feel annoyed about it for awhile, but being genuinely pissed off is your anxiety trying to find something to blame to take the responsibility off your shoulders, and getting scared because it can't justify itself. Deep breaths, ask yourself how much you ACTUALLY want to be angry at that person, then find a distraction

"Sour grapes" is more healthy for you than stewing. Deciding you don't like someone who's perpetually annoyed with you, won't talk to you, etc. makes letting go of anxiety over them easier

If people don't like you, they will find reasons to be annoyed with you when they otherwise wouldn't. If people do like you, they will find reasons NOT to be annoyed with you when they otherwise would. People do not ping-pong between the two

You DO have to make a conscious choice not to think about something. If you're having trouble circling back to it, say out loud that you're done thinking about it and why. Then find a distraction

When you're upset, part of you is going to want to make false bids for attention (suddenly texting differently, heavy sighs, etc. but when someone asks you about it, you tell them it's nothing). Do not listen to it. You gain nothing from it except more misery

People like to help people they care about. It makes them feel good about themselves

If you think you're insufferable for needing help, see above. Yes, really. They get a serotonin kick from it

If you think you're insufferable for mannerisms you have, you either have to consciously choose not to do them, or accept that they're part of the package that comes with you. Being apologetic about existing does nothing except make you more miserable

If you do things you don't like when you feel meh about it, it makes it easier to do them when you hate it

If you avoid things you don't like when you feel meh about it, it reinforces and magnifies how bad it feels when you hate it

Seriously. Read those last two points again. If you can make yourself make a phone call when you've got nothing to lose, you will slowly lose that panic you get when you have to make a phone call you haven't prepared for. You do have to CONSCIOUSLY take that step

Hobbies that make you care for something get rid of that nagging feeling that you're not doing enough. Go grow some rosemary

If you don't engage with your hobbies regularly, you will feel miserable, and anxiety will spike

Hobbies are things that give you a bit of happiness. They do not have to be organized or named to do that. Go be creative in something. Play with coins. Make up lists. Start a new WIP

No one cares what you look like

If people point out things they don't like about how you look unprompted, they are being rude. You are entitled to say "what the fuck"

People who like you will find you pretty to some degree. Minor things about your appearance go completely unnoticed. Literally, scars and dots and blemishes do not register to someone who likes your company

You looking at yourself in the mirror is 10x more closely than anyone is going to look at you

If you're anxious about your body type, and you're creatively inclined, make/write an oc with that same shape. Give them nice things and make other characters love them. Put them on adventures. You'll start to see yourself in the mirror more kindly

You care about wording and perfect lines/colors way more than anyone who views your work ever will

Sometimes when you're upset, you're going to feel like not eating. Do not do that. Not eating makes you more miserable

Same with things you normally enjoy. Denying yourself helps no one. You are punishing yourself for being sad. Stop it

Both of these will take conscious decision to break the habit of. Make yourself do it anyways, and it will slowly get easier

And again, to reiterate: If someone is mad at you, it is THEIR responsibility to tell you, not your responsibility to guess

#anxiety #mental health

[therandomavenger]

The F Word

I want to talk about a difficult subject, and to do so I’m going to have to use a word that a lot of people don’t like. It’s an F-word.

Not that one.

No, not that one either.

The word that makes people so uncomfortable is Failure (which means my grandma can read this and not get mad at me).

It turns out, I know a lot about this word, because I have failed many, many times.

I failed in my teaching career. Twice. I failed to get my A+ Technical support certification. All of these were humiliating. I’ve failed to secure many, many jobs I’ve interviewed for. I failed as a husband. I failed as a father (maybe not ultimately but there were hundreds of failures along the way). I failed and failed at online dating, getting ghosted more times than I can count. I guess I was just not that interesting.  Before starting to write seriously again in 2019, I failed at writing about four different novels. And one of the novels I did finish after 2019 I trunked and have started stripping for parts.

I’ve failed to sell about a dozen stories to paying markets. The only reason I didn’t fail at finding an agent and going the traditional publishing route was that I didn’t try. I have failed to sell a large number of books. I’ve failed to get positive attention on social media. I’ve failed to make the most of opportunities that were given to me. I failed to maintain friendships. I failed to miss the deer that ran in front of my new car a couple of years ago.

Wow. This is depressing. I promise the parade of suck is almost over.

The point is, I know what I’m talking about here. By any definition, I am a failure.

Brene Brown says that the biggest shame trigger people have is the assignment of unwanted identities. Failure is certainly one of those. We use another word, for ourselves and other people who have failed. Loser. Harsh, right? But it’s the truth.

Here’s the thing, though. Failure happens to everyone. There are thousands of stories of people who finally made it big who failed in a major way before they ever succeeded. I’m not going to recount all of those stories here, but failure has a pristine pedigree. The only people who have never failed are people who’ve never tried to do anything. There’s honor in that, at reaching for a goal, falling short, and taking your lumps. It can make us kinder, more compassionate people, and also make us strong enough to withstand the pressure when success finally comes.

And yeah, when you fail, people make comments. The people who make the meanest comments are people who’ve never really dared trying to accomplish anything major. These are people who ‘stay in their lane,’ and don’t put themselves out there. Most of the people who matter will watch you fall, wince at your pain, and offer you a hand up while they tell you their own story. Those are the people you need to pay attention to, not the ones who are making fun of you.

And for the love of God do not turn your attention to the randos on social media. Especially the anonymous ones. They don’t really know your story, and their experience is not relevant.

But here’s the biggest thing I learned about failure. When it happens, you have to take a minute. You have to feel it. Process it. Let it suck for a couple of days or a couple of months and cry about it to your best friend and/or your cousin’s wife (Hi, Lisa). I know I personally, the various times I have failed, have immediately launched myself at the next thing (which I probably also failed at, eventually), and that was a mistake. It’s true that action is good, and that doing something feels better than stewing in those awful, awful feelings. That led me to a pretty serious breakdown a couple of years ago, because I had all this unprocessed trauma from the times I had failed that had stayed lodged in my mind, and were resulting in some pretty toxic self-talk. So, yeah. Take some time. Make considered decisions. Decide if the next thing you think of is something you really want, or if it’s just a new target to aim yourself at to escape from your feelings.

Everybody hates failure, but I’ve found it’s always led to something that makes up for it. Failing as a teacher led me to a new set of circumstances that resulted in a lot more freedom. Failing as a certified technician kept me from getting into situations where I would have been in over my head doing real damage. Failing as a husband liberated both me and my wife from a life that was serving neither of us. My failures as a parent, when I acknowledged and apologized for them, led me to a deeper relationship with my adult children. Failing at online dating made me remember this guy I’d met a couple of years before, and who I’d been thinking about, prompting me to search him out again. Now I’m in the happiest relationship of my life and we’re getting married October 12th (This was definitely the best outcome for that story).

Failure gives you the opportunity to rethink what you’re doing, and figure out what you really want. It clarifies your values. It gives you the opportunity to recreate yourself as a new, more authentic version. In order to rise from the ashes, a Phoenix first needs to burn.

Failure doesn’t have to be permanent. Success certainly never is. And failing in one thing can lead to success in something more important later. I thank God I am not working some soul-sucking tech job right now, and have avoided the way teaching as a career has collapsed. Like I said before, if you’ve never failed, you’ve never really tried to do anything important.

And these days … I would not consider myself a professional success. You could even say I’ve failed as a novelist, and if making money was my goal, that’s certainly true. Here’s the thing, though. I am proud of the work I am putting out, and more importantly, I have loved the process of creating it. I get to spend my days being creative, and though I am no means a financial success, I know there are many people who would kill for my life. I am also pursuing an art degree, which is a brand new area for me. Will I fail at this? Possibly! Maybe even likely. But if I do, I will take a minute, cry for a couple of days, then thank the universe for the experience, and think deeply about what it is that I want to do next.

There’s always something new coming up. That is the universe’s greatest gift.   

#blog post #failure #mental health #life lessons

[therandomavenger]

This is classic

we have adhd 💬

#adhd problems #adhd #mental health

[therandomavenger]

The 5 Stages of an Author's Career

The other day my writing group was discussing a post by Dean Wesley Smith, about five levels in a writer’s life. It was focused on their skill level, and while I found it valid, it also didn’t speak much to me. I started thinking about the various levels there are to a writer’s actual career (and I use the term loosely). There are five distinct stages to this, with a couple of bonus stages on either side.

Stage One – you’re still figuring out your process and not finishing things regularly. This is a very frustrating stage, because you know how these things should be turning out, but you don’t have the ability to bring them in for a landing. It’s usually because you haven’t figured out what works for you yet. Maybe you’re trying to pants but you’re actually a plotter. Maybe you’re trying to plot but you’re actually a pantser. You may need to go up several skill levels through formal classes or informal training. Or maybe you just need more practice. They say you must write one million words of crap before you’re producing anything worthwhile, and I’m not sure about that exact number, I do know it’s exceedingly rare that the first several things you write will be even adequate, let alone professional quality. This is frustrating, but it is a feature not a bug. This stage is over when you consistently finish things, and are, in general, happy with them. I was in this stage until I was 46 years old.

Stage Two – you’re putting finished pieces out there and getting feedback. This might be sending work out to actual editors at publishing houses and magazines, or you just send it to a critique group, or find another type of professional willing to look at your work. I feel like the feedback needs to be from professional or professional-adjacent people, not your best friend, spouse, or great aunt Mabel. People who, through training or experience, know how to get your work to the next level.

Stage Three – You’re at stage three when you’ve either sold something to an editor, or you self-publish something, and people who don’t even know you buy it. You’re getting some sort of renumeration, even if the work is a long way off from paying for itself. You are starting to build an audience. I feel like this is the stage at which it’s reasonable to start calling yourself a professional writer, but that’s just my opinion. This stage can last a long time, and some people never get past it, and depending on their goals, that can be okay. This is the stage at which I currently find myself.

Stage Four – The work is paying for itself. If you sold a book, you’ve earned back your advance and are starting to get royalties. Publishers are willing to publish more from you. If you’re self-publishing, your royalties are covering your expenses. Your business might not be making much of a profit, but you are solidly in the black. You may not be able to quit your day job, but at least this is not costing you money. A lot of even immensely popular writers end up here. There’s no shame in it. I mean, I would kill to be in this stage.

Stage Five – You’ve made it! Your work is paying you enough that you can quit your day job. It’s providing a comfortable, or at least adequate, living that supports you and maybe even some dependents. You may be rich, you may not be, but you’re definitely not starving. This is the promised land, and a very small percentage of writers ever make it here. But it is doable, if you level up your skill enough and make smart moves with your career.

In addition to these five stages, there are two bonus stages at either end.

Stage Zero – you talk a lot about your characters, worlds, and ideas for stories, but you never actually write anything. The biggest leap in all these levels is the leap between level zero and level one. Just getting words on the page regularly is half the battle. I think if you’re at this stage, you probably shouldn’t be calling yourself an actual writer, but that’s just me.

And then there’s Stage 5+ — you’re popular and successful enough that normies know your name, and your work regularly appears on bestseller list. You might even have been on Oprah or won some prestigious awards. There’s a wide range here, but this is the level of success above everyone else. Think Stephen King, Neil Gaiman, Colleen Hoover, Sarah J. Maas, Toni Morrison, John Scalzi. Everyone wants to be here, and it’s possible to achieve this, but it’s kind of hard to make it happen on your own. It generally happens when you write the right book for the right audience at the right time. You can’t really plan for that, but you can be constantly levelling up your skills and growing your audience, so that you can take advantage of it when it does happen.

So, that’s my take on the stages of a writer’s career. Maybe they resonated with you, maybe they didn’t, but it’s an interesting topic to think about.

#writing #book business stuff #career #blog posts

[therandomavenger]

The State of Things

It’s been a busy couple of months here at stately Grayson-Coats manor. A lot going on. Like, a lot a lot.

Jimmy and I spent a few weeks furiously planning the wedding. We have a tentative date (Oct 12th), and we pretty much have our colors (grey and purple) and the overall flow of the ceremony, as well as our attendants selected. Our priest has agreed to marry us (which I something I never thought would be possible, but that’s the Episcopal Church for you), and we’ve decided to get married at the actual church, which will be amazing. The next step is to call the church and schedule an appointment with the priest and also whomever we need to talk to to actually book the church and that has been on my to-do list for like six weeks now and I … just keep forgetting to do it? This is not a ‘he has mixed feelings so he’s dragging his feet’ thing, which I can forgive you for thinking. It’s a ‘the church office is only open until noon every day and by the time I remember I should call they are closed’ thing. I did put it on my LifeUp! To-do list so it should happen soon, hopefully tomorrow. I hear you. Get your shit together, Chad.

We both started school January 16th, and that has been an adjustment for both of us. I love my classes. I love the process of doing art the same way I love the process of writing, which is a good sign for my longevity in this pursuit. Originally, I was just going to get a certificate in Digital Art and Design, but now I’ve decided to get a whole-ass AA in Art. Specializing in Digital stuff, but also pursuing drawing and painting.

I am finding myself having to forgive myself for being a beginner in this. It took me 46 (at least) years to get somewhat good at writing. I’ve been doing art for a month. Less than, actually. I know how I want things to look, but my skills have not developed to the point where they come out like that. This is as it should be! If things were feeling too easy, I wouldn’t be learning. I’m getting good grades on all my assignments. I am exactly where I should be. But there’s a part of me that is like ‘I need to demonstrate immediate mastery of every new skill I try, or I am a loser. I am the only one this applies to.’ I need someone to sit next to me and spray me with water every time I say something self-deprecating. (Yes, I have been working on this in therapy). I will probably start sharing some of my art soon, probably on my Instagram account.

But I love being in school again. I like being on campus and sitting in class and working on a new set of skills. I’m into the whole thing. (Could academia be my kink?) I’ve started to make friends with my fellow students, many of whom are my age or older. Also, maybe this is news to you, but art seems to attract a lot of queer people? Who knew? Anyway, I love every part of this except getting up for 8:00 classes. Like, who invented 8:00 classes? They need to be punished.

And while I have turned my attention to art school, I have not neglected my writing. It is still my first love, and my primary vocation. I scheduled myself three days a week for writing. I write 2500 words every writing day, which gives me 7500 words a week or 30,000 words a month (at least). In January, I met this goal, even though I took a week off because I got sick (influenza can die in a fire), and I am on track for February too. I was a little afraid that my mental energy would fail me, but art and writing, while both creative, don’t use the same parts of my brain, so doing a lot of one doesn’t exhaust my capacity for the other. I have six days a week I work at either school, or writing both, and I take Sundays mostly off. I’m extremely glad I quit working at the library because that would not have fit into this schedule, despite the fact that I don’t have class the day I usually worked.

I’m almost finished with the rough draft of ‘World Enough and Time,’ my sci-fi romance that started with a silly idea and has gotten surprisingly deep. I have my next few projects lined up. Actually, I made a list of all the books I have solid ideas for, and it was, I shit you not, 37 books! So, because I am a planner, I scheduled out a potential work and release schedule and this will take me thirteen years. And part of me wants to post that list of deadlines and hold myself to it, and part of me is like, no, just write the books and don’t worry about deadlines. Clearly, I need my muse to take a vacation because I don’t need any more book ideas. But it was nice to get a realistic idea of what was possible. In 13 years, I will only be 64 (I can’t believe I used only in that sentence) and that isn’t really that old by any means. There are a lot of people in my writing group who are older than that, and still going strong.

Overall, I’m grateful for the way my 50’s seem to be shaping up. I’m not as young as I used to be, but physically, I’m just as capable as I was when I was 30. I’ve finally figured out how my brain works and created ways to be productive. I am wholly myself with everyone in my life, no longer trapped in the closet. I have great relationships with my close family and my kids and grandkids. In October, I will marry the love of my life, and there were many times over the years I despaired of that ever happening.

I would love to get away from financial stress, and really see my career take off, but I’m not really in control of whether or not that happens. The best thing I can do is put out the best work that I can, work that I am proud of, and I have been doing that. I’m looking into ways to not go as deeply in the hole as I have been (the art degree is part of that).

I have four books lined up to publish this year, including a short story collection that will be an exclusive for newsletter subscribers. Also, Curse of the Onyx Heart, the first book in The Circle and the Shadow, and epic fantasy series. In August, I plan to release Beneath the Silent Stars, which is Broken Stars book 5. Also this summer, I’ll be sending out the short story collection, which is titled Ghosts of Exile and other Stories. And then I hope to release World Enough and Time in December. That will bring my published works up to 10.   

I feel good about how things are going right now, even if things are not perfect. This is the life I have built for myself, and if I’d known it was coming during those long, dark, years, I would have realized that all the pain would one day be worth it.

#blog post #gay stuff #book business stuff #writing life

[therandomavenger]

Flight of Ideas

A lot of people like to ask writers, and other creative types, ‘Where do you get your ideas?’ And that is, in many ways, the wrong question. I, like many other writers, have a thousand ideas before breakfast (to plagiarize Lewis Carroll). Coming up with ideas is not the problem.

At least, it’s not the problem the way the people who are asking about it mean it. Ideas kind of follow me around like a swarm of butterflies, and it can be an effort to catch one or two of them and put them in my pocket without completely destroying their wings.

Actually, that sounds like a terrible thing to do to butterflies. I regret this metaphor (yes, I know it was technically a simile).

What I mean is the problem has always been too many ideas, not a lack of ideas.

And yes, I know there are some writers who struggle with idea generation. We’ll get to that later. I know I am not speaking for all writers here.

I described this whole ‘butterfly swarm of ideas’ thing to my psychiatrist and one point and he looked at me, really concerned, and adjusted his glasses before dropping this bomb on me: ‘Chad, that sounds like a symptom of mania.’

Oh.

Shit.

He went on to explain, and I did some research on my own, and … welp, he’s right.

Flight of ideas: A rapid speech or mental pattern with abrupt topic changes characterized by loosely connected or unrelated thoughts. Flight of Ideas is commonly observed in manic episodes of bipolar disorder, reflecting a manifestation of disorganized thinking and elevated mood.

–Austin Rausch, MS, LPCC, LICDC

Welp, there’s me told.

And I do tend to have a lot of ideas when I’m entering a manic episode. It’s one of the signs. If I plot out three seven-book fantasy series in one evening, you know a storm’s-a-comin.’ In those cases, I will also throw in a couple of life-changing career or education goals, as well as start focusing on about five home improvement projects. Also, I might decide to launch a podcast? I’ll definitely order all the equipment for it! These things all seem to happen at once.

But I kind of don’t want to see the ideas themselves as the problem. In a manic state, it’s hard to decide which ideas are worth pursuing and which are hot—but entertaining—garbage. But there are always some gems in there, and I wouldn’t want them to go away. I kind of see this is not so much a symptom of mania, but as a gift of mania.

And really, it’s a gift that keeps giving even when my mental state is closer to a healthy baseline. I tend to have a lot of ideas for stories. When I was reading only novels and series, it was novel and series ideas, now it’s just as likely to be shorter ideas, and now that I am in Art school, ideas for visual projects. There’s a lot of them. I’m writing them down in my spare moments. I refuse to see this as a problem.

I sat down one day and wrote down a list of books I wanted to write. These are somewhat developed ideas that I thought were strong enough to be viable. I stopped writing the list when I got to 27.

Now, this isn’t really a problem. Will I write all 27+ of these books? Maybe, maybe not. I mean, time might have a vote in this, but I’m not that old. If I write 3 books a year, which I’ve been doing for the past couple of years (and some of these are novellas) it would only take me 9 years. I’ll barely be 60.

What I’ve decided to do is write some basics outlines for these books and do what I do best: put them on a schedule! Now, my schedule doesn’t have dates on it because that makes me put way too much pressure on myself. My schedule is basically a list. And I have solid plans for the next 7 projects.

               Finish World Enough and Time (current WIP, standalone sci-fi romance novella)

               Write Blood of the Saints (post-apocalyptic standalone fantasy short story/novella)

               Write The Lion and the Sparrow (standalone fantasy novella)

               Write Valley of Storms (Ascension Apocalypse book 2)

               Write Seeds of Hope (standalone sci fi novella)

               Write The Glittering Tomb (The Circle and the Shadow book 2)

               Write Stars Without End (Broken Stars finale)

3 of those projects short. I hope. These are all ideas that I’ve developed to the point that I am ready to start writing them. I have many others in more nascent stages. And clearly, I have not taken the advice that says, ‘Finish 1 series and the move on to the next.’ I know that’s good advice. But my muse has adhd (obviously) so here we are. Also, no traditional publisher in their right mind is going to let me do things in this order, Ursula Vernon/T. Kingfisher’s career notwithstanding. So, thank God that self-publishing is an option.

And this is just the writing. I have Curse of the Onyx Heart (The Circle and the Shadow book 1) basically ready to go as soon as I order the cover. And Beneath the Silent Stars (Broken Stars book 5) will go to the editor in March. I’m hoping World Enough and Time will be ready to publish by November.

So … I have a lot of ideas. I’ve learned how to snag hold of them and develop them to the point that they work as complete stories. I’m learning how to do that with art as well. I refuse to see this as a symptom of mental illness, or if it is, thank God there’s no cure.

As for the people who tell me they struggle to come up with ideas, I don’t have much advice, except to say you need to be absorbing all sorts of stories in various media, and figuring out which ones speak to you and why. That will help you find your own unique voice. You also need to be going out into the world and having Experiences. Work some crappy (but not abusive) jobs. Take a trip that scares you. Fall in love and get your heart broken. There are many experiences that are out there waiting for you and many of them don’t even cost any money. You have some sort of internal antenna that needs to be out, collecting signals, or, if you like this metaphor better, you need to be looking for the butterflies and carrying a net to catch them with. You find what you’re looking for (thanks, reticular activating system!), so if you’re looking for ideas, they will come to you. That may mean you need to change from being a passive observer of what is happening to someone who is always trying to figure things out, and maybe even putting themselves in the middle of the action. Or develop bipolar disorder. That’s what worked for me!

A Flight of ideas might be a symptom, but it is also a gift. And I’m glad that I’ve been given treatments for my mental illness that have not taken this away from me. I would miss it. It feels like a vital part of myself. I don’t know who I would be without it.

#creativity #neurodivergence #writing #adhd #bipolar disorder #mental health #productivity

[therandomavenger]

New Beginnings

               This is a big week for me. On Tuesday, the Spring Semester starts, and I will find myself a full-time student again for the first time in 13 years. This will not be my first experience as a ‘non-traditional’ student. In 2009, at the age of thirty-six, I went back to school to get a CIS degree. But that was while I was raising young children full time and trying to materially and emotionally support a spouse with a full-time teaching career. It was a lot. But I did well, even if I ran out of steam and fell about three credits shy of getting my AA.

               I think this experience will be different. I don’t have kids at home anymore, and my current partner is also a student, so we will be able to support each other. We’re even taking an ASL class together. No, this should be a completely different experience, though I know it won’t be stress-free. Also, I’m no longer singularly responsible for planning and cooking all our meals, and doing all the housework, the way I was before. My current partnership is much more equal than my last one was.

               I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous, though. I’m older than I was, even if I’m just as healthy, I think. In the intervening years, I’ve done a deep dive into how my brain works, and I know how to be productive. Over the past couple of years, I’ve been getting a lot of stuff done, both housework and writing and reading and other stuff. So, I know I can do it. It’s going to be an adjustment, however, having someone else’s external schedule imposed over mine. I’m going to have to get up on time every day (which means breaking my addiction to the snooze alarm, which is already in progress). I’m taking sixteen units, which is kind of a lot. Only one of those classes is online.

               The subject matter is different from anything I’ve ever studied before. I’m going back to earn a certificate in Digital Art and Design, so I’ll be in a lot of Art classes. Starting with line drawing and beginning design, as well as intro to digital art. That’s just this semester. Halfway through, I’ll be adding an Adobe Suite online tutorial class. I’m hoping this will give me a new set of skills that I can use to support my writing career. But this is an entirely new area for me.

               I spent most of my teenage years obsessively drawing, and I loved doing it, even if the art I produced was terrible. I knew nothing about anatomy, or design principles. S put some nice pictures together but had no hope of making most of my projects match the image I had in my head. Through all those years, I never took an art class. So, getting back to this now, at 51, feels like a return to an old vision of myself that was never quite able to develop. Will I be any better with formal training? I’d almost have to be.

               Future classes will take me further into design skills, including graphic design, as well as digital photography, animation, and web design. I’m excited to learn about all of it. My goal is to be able to gain proficiency at formatting my own books and designing my own book covers, and maybe, if I get good enough, earning some extra money by doing that for other people.

               But even as I add this new challenge, I’m not abandoning my writing goals. I still plan to produce 30,000 words a month. I have been on my new writing schedule for the last two weeks, just to make sure it’s realistic. 2-4 on Wednesday and Fridays, 11-2 on Saturdays. I need to produce 7500 words in those three days, and I’ve met or exceeded that in the first two weeks. So, I know this is doable. I also need to work in time for editing and other publishing-related tasks. I want to release three books this year.

               I think it’s important, as we get older, not to settle into old patterns, but to stretch and grow and learn new things, and expand into new areas. It keeps you young, and studies show it can actually extend your life and help stave off dementia. I’m definitely doing that.

               Am I afraid I might suck at this? Absolutely! But really, if I try this, and fail, then I really haven’t lost much. I lose more by never trying, and always wondering if I could have been successful.

               So, this week is a new beginning. I’m really looking forward to it. I feel like I am at the cusp of an entire new life, and I welcome its unfolding.

#new beginnings #blog post #school year #life #writing life

[therandomavenger]

My 2023 in Sales

I hardly ever look at my sales dashboard on the kdp site. I maybe check in once a week (or less) It’s not that I don’t care, its that looking at it too often drives me to despair. But tonight, I took a look to see how 2023 went. I’m not going to use specific numbers but focus on comparing this year’s performance to previous years (no one needs to see these numbers. I am not a bestseller). This is a much more hopeful way of looking at things.

I released 2 books last year: The Soul Cages, which was a standalone paranormal romance novella, and Blade of Shadows, Wings of Light, the doorstopper first book in my Ascension Apocalypse Urban Fantasy series. I was nervous about this, because these were both queer books, and I would be trying to break into a completely new audience for myself. I had no idea how that would go.

Well, I sold three times the number of total books than I sold in any year before. I made almost four times the amount of money.

All the Promised Stars was still my bestselling book, but I think its numbers are inflated because I spent a week in July advertising it and giving it away for free. So, that’s probably skewing the numbers a bit. I did make money from that book, but probably a quarter of those ‘sales’ were free downloads. Which, I’d done that in years before and not found many takers, so this is absolutely a victory.

But right behind ATPS was The Soul Cages. I sold almost as many copies of that. I did run a bargain booksy promotion combined with a 99 cents sale, and that helped. But still. A lot of people (for certain values of a lot) bought this book.

Right behind TSC was Blade of Shadows, Wings of Light. There’s a little bit of a drop off here, but it’s not as large as it could have been considering that I basically released this book into the wild and asked it to fend for itself. I promoted it on my social media, but I didn’t run any ads or a bargain booksy for it. It was so long, no one in the usual groups I can count on even wanted to review it (which, fair). So, I’m really happy it seems to have found an audience.

A couple of takeaways for me here.

I should keep writing queer books. I don’t absolutely suck at it! I’m as surprised as anyone!

Also, there’s a huge drop-off between book 1 and the rest of the Broken Stars books. I think I know why that is. I’ve gotten pretty good feedback on book one, but I pretty much wrapped up the story. It was intentional. It was sold as a romance book and the romance threads were closed off. Also, when romance readers read an entire series, they usually want a new romance in each subsequent book. They want that series to stay like romance novels. The Broken Stars books change genres into the romantic sci-fi drama category. That is not necessarily the same audience. The romance readers who came in liked the romance book but weren’t interested in the thriller that was book one, or the dramas that were books 3 and 4. That is because of the way I sold them. Going forward, I can refocus my marketing efforts to attract readers who would be more interested in what the rest of the books were.

That said, if people bought book 2, Among the Captive Stars, it looks like they went on to buy books three and four. I’ve done no marketing at all for these three books (except a blog tour I did for book 4). Huge drop off from 1 to 2, not much of a drop off at all between the other three books. Which means, when the right readers found the books, they read the rest of the series (I hope they stick around for the next 2 books). If I refocus the marketing on book 1, maybe I can get more of those readers who will stay for the whole thing.

Also, my standalone romance did well. It was actually a romance. I was pulling no bait and switch series shenanigans here. People liked it. It got some complimentary reviews. Some people lamented that it was too short, but that just tells me they wanted more. I should absolutely release more standalone queer speculative romances. I’m working on one now, in fact! And it left Novella territory a long time ago.

I feel really good about all of that information.

I don’t focus a lot on sales because that is not why I do this. It does appear that, as small a number as the dollar amount is, I am slowly finding an audience. I just need to market correctly to find the people who will love my books. They are out there. I’ve never had a return (if that means anything)

Also, about 40% of my monetary earnings were from Kindle Unlimited Page Reads. As tempting as going wide seems, I’m probably staying in the KU program, for now. We’ll see if that dries up in the future.

So, that was my 2023 in sales. If people saw the actual numbers, they would laugh. But Every year my audience grows and that is what is most important to me.

#blog post #indie publishing #book sales #self publishing

[therandomavenger]

#blog post #Legend of Vox Machina #Fall of the House of Usher #Foundation #Cunk on Earth #Mrs. Davis #TV Shows #Year in review

[therandomavenger]

5 Lessons I Learned the Hard Way

               The end of the year always makes me reflective, as you can probably tell from my last few posts. Today the subject came up on a podcast: what truths did you learn the hard way? Which made me think about that issue for myself. I’ve learned most things the hard way. I think that’s just part of life for nearly everyone, and these five things are probably not revelatory to most people, but they were to me. Some of them are recent, some of them are lessons I keep being taught over and over.

               So here they are, Five Lessons I Learned the Hard Way.

1. Most Relationships are Situational

               This was a tough one, fam, and I keep learning it over and over. While there are people who are in our lives for the long haul, most of our relationships are products of the situations in which we find ourselves. Most people learn this in their 20’s, when they lose track of the people they once felt so close to in high school. I’ve had several people I worked with, who became what I thought were my best friends. And it’s not that they weren’t. The relationships were real, and close, but in almost every case, once I left that job, those people and I slowly drifted out of each other’s lives. We were no longer in daily contact, and also as our circumstances changed, we changed as people. No one did anything wrong here. This is regretful, yes, but it’s natural, and there’s nothing wrong with you or with your friends if this keeps happening to you. I’ve had several ‘ride or die besties’ that I am no longer in any kind of contact with. And it sucks. It hurts. But it’s just reality. Most of our relationships, no matter how deep they may feel at the time, are maintained as a matter of our circumstances. It’s possible that they might become forever friendships, but that takes some very hard work, and usually doesn’t happen, despite all parties’ best intentions.

               I was very close to the people I grew up with, especially my aunts and uncles and cousins. I am in close contact with very few of those people now. We exchange texts a couple of times a year if that. I still love them, but we are not close. Most of that is because I moved across the country. Some of it is because I came out of the closet and that was a bridge too far for several of them (their loss). The path behind me is littered with people I thought I’d be close to forever. But it didn’t turn out to be true. And you know what? That’s okay.

               There are people who I’ve stayed close to. My best friend from high school, Jennie, and I have lost contact for a while at times, but we maintain close contact today because it was important to both of us. We share the details of our lives, and our struggles, and we’re there for each other, even though we live 2000 miles apart. She was the first person I came out to, in 2019.

               Social media has complicated this, a little, and fooled people into thinking they’re still close when they really aren’t. Once you leave a situation, you probably still follow all of those friends on social media. That’s not a bad thing. It’s a way to stay in contact. Social media relationships are real relationships, but they are not the same thing as day-to-day friendships. People you only interact with on social media are not in the trenches with you, sharing in your daily struggles. A lot of people give up on maintaining friendships, thinking they’re ok because they interact with hundreds of people on social media. And it’s not the same thing. Especially the way things work these days, with platforms mainly showing you ads instead of the people you are following. You might go weeks without seeing posts from a friend and not even realize it.

               This makes real friendships precious, and worth maintaining. I recently left a job where I’d met my current bff, whom I used to work three shifts a week with. But we are maintaining our connection by hanging out weekly, and still playing D&D together. I’m not losing track of him, nor he of me. He’s going to be the best man in my wedding. Both of us are making an effort, and I am very grateful for that.

               So, most relationships are situational. There’s a cycle to friendships, and even family relationships. That is not a bad thing. If you remain open, as you enter new situations you will make new friends, not to replace the old ones, but to help fill the void.

2. If You Stand on a Hill, People Will Throw Rocks at You.

               This is a lesson that I learned this week, when I had my first experience of a social media post going somewhat viral (a very loose definition of viral, anyway). I posted a take I knew some people would find somewhat controversial, but I didn’t couch it in absolute terms, and I stand by what I said. A lot of people agreed with me. But more people than I expected showed up to tell me what a horrible person I was, an obvious corporate shill, and many questioned both my intelligence (fair) and my parentage (rude).

               Now, my neurodivergence comes with a side order of Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, which makes even the slightest bit of criticism feel like I’m taking a dagger to the heart. I had a lot of big feelings, seeing all of this. I had the impulse to delete the post and block all of the negative commenters. What I soon realized, though, was that most of the angry rude people were responding to their own issues, not anything I’d actually said. They’d taken my fairly innocuous statement, and filled in a lot of space around it, putting words in my mouth. Their reaction was more about them than it was about me. Reading comprehension is not great with the online crowd sometimes. So, as painful as it felt at first to see these comments, it was very good for me to go through this. It was kind of like exposure therapy for RSD.

               But I’m not just talking about social media. Any time you put yourself out there, whether it’s releasing creative work or taking a leadership position or even just walking down the street feeling confident, people will show up to tear you down. It’s just human nature. If you publish a book, someone is going to 1-star it. You cannot do your work well enough to avoid this. If you sing the national anthem at a football game, some people are going to critique how you sounded. It’s the nature of the beast. The first search result on google for popular books is probably a post stating ‘Why does [Name of Book] suck so bad!’ It’s a badge of honor, because you’re in the arena, taking swings, not sitting on the sideline yelling insults at the people actually fighting.

               You can deal with this in various ways. You can engage with the haters, and try to change their minds, but the risk is high that you will come off looking like an asshole who can’t take criticism. That way lies madness, so tread carefully. The best strategy is probably just to let people have their reactions and not to respond to them. (Unless people are spreading vicious harmful untruths about the work or threatening you, and even in that case you probably shouldn’t engage personally).

               So, getting criticism is just proof that you are working. Take your licks gracefully and scream into a pillow later. Rick Rubin says, of creative work, ‘If Everyone Likes it, you’re not pushing far enough.’

3. You are not your work, but your work won’t happen without you.  

               I’m not talking about your day job here, unless you also consider it your life’s work, and if that’s true, I’m happy for you. But even work that we are personally invested in cannot be our entire identity. You cannot define your worth as a person based on how successful you are at it. You are a valid person if you don’t do anything besides eat your breakfast and read a book on any given day. I myself struggle with this. I defined myself almost exclusively by my productivity for a couple of years, which led to a pretty major breakdown in November of 2022. These days, I feel good about my productivity, but I don’t put pressure on myself about it. I schedule my time in ways that provide my personal needs as well as my professional needs. Two hours of writing, yes, but also a couple of hours to read and/or catch up on TV shows with my fiancé. A daily hike. This is a harder task for some people than others.

               That said, your work is still important, so it’s okay to feel good about doing it, and make it a priority. You do have to schedule some time for it, eventually. Just realize that nothing is worth burning yourself out for. This is where my weekly schedule has saved me. I know when my work hours are and how much I can expect to accomplish during that time. So, I don’t get frustrated doing other things when it’s time for them. Also, I purposefully do not over-schedule myself, so I can get sleep and rest and just hanging out time.  

               I guess what I’m saying is set these goals for yourself in a way that works for you, and don’t compare yourself to what other people are doing. That can be instructive sometimes, and give you ideas, but they don’t have your life. If you can only write 500 words a couple of times a week, that’s fine. There are professional writers who work at that pace. Don’t try to keep up with someone who has a different set of circumstances. I can be highly productive because I don’t have kids at home or a day job, and I have a partner who is an equal participant in taking care of our dogs and home. If you don’t have that, you’re not a failure for not meeting some arbitrary goal.

               You are not your work, but your work is important. Both things can be true. It is a matter of balance, as many things are.

4. Your Needs are Valid, but it is not anyone else’s job to meet them

               This is a tough one. And phrased this way, it also kind of sounds mean? But I don’t mean it that way. What it means is that you have some basic needs as a person. We all do. Some of them are shared between us, and some of us are individual to ourselves. Needs are value-neutral. If you need more time and attention from other people, there’s nothing wrong with you. If you are a person who needs a lot of alone time, that’s fine. You’re not a bad person for needing your solitude. It is everyone’s job to unpack what their personal needs are and find healthy ways to make sure they are met.

               That said, it is no one else’s job to meet your needs. Not your partner’s, not your parents’ (beyond the responsibility of providing basic physical and emotional necessities for dependent children). The people in your life can help you, but you’re responsible for getting your needs met. If you need affection from your partner, you can ask for that and meet that need in healthy ways. Brianna Weist says that other people can’t meet our needs anyway. We meet them ourselves. Finding someone to love us just gives us permission to love ourselves, and that is how that need is met. I’m not sure that is true, exactly, but it’s something to think about.

               One of my most annoying habits is a constant need for validation. It’s like I’m still that 8-year-old who had an idea everyone was ignoring. This means I’m constantly asking for approval from my partner and other people, sharing ideas, and work, and projects, and wanting to be validated. Also, shitposting on social media (is there a Shitposter’s Anonymous? I think I may need to go to a meeting). Sometimes this works, but sometimes it doesn’t. But what I’ve realized, through a lot of reflection and a lot of therapy, is that this is a need I am capable of meeting myself. It’s healthier, even. I can reason things through and tell myself I’m doing a good job, or that I wrote an effective piece, or said something clever. I do not need validation from others. I’m not a parked car.

               That’s not to say I shouldn’t seek out feedback, but that is a different thing.

               So, yeah, other people can help you, but you are responsible for meeting your own needs. This sounds harsh, but it is true.

5. There is no destination. It’s journeys all the way down.

               This one. Wow. I’ve had the thought, in different stages of my life, that ‘When I finally [insert thing here] everything will finally be okay. For a while it was ‘when I can write full time,’ then, ‘when I finally publish a book.’ It’s also been at various times, ‘When I can get out of this marriage,’ and ‘when I can finally come out of the closet,’ then ‘when I finally am in a relationship.’ Right now, it’s ‘when we get this house purchased,’ and ‘when I am done with school,’ and ‘when we get married.’ It’s never ending. There’s always something we’re waiting for, something that will make everything right. But it doesn’t work. At every stage, there’s a new set of challenges. That doesn’t mean things don’t get better, and that some stages aren’t more comfortable than others, but there’s no real place of ‘I made it!’

               Every goal achieved launches you on a new journey, with its own set of obstacles. Finding a relationship means you have to do the work of maintaining it. Getting your dream job means finding ways to be successful in that role. Publishing a book means having to market it so people will find it (and writing the next one). There is no end point beyond which everything feels like it’s going to be perfect.

               You can find safety and comfort and success. But those things are not an end result, they are a byproduct of your journey. You must always do the work on maintaining them. If you’re thinking, ‘when I finally get there,” I have some news for you. There’s no There. When you meet your current goals, you might feel okay for a day or so, then a new set of challenges will present themselves and you’ll be, once more, at the beginning of a long upward path. This is okay. This is how it’s supposed to work. This is how we keep changing and growing until we reach the end of our lives, and who knows what kind of a journey death is. Maybe this will just keep going for eternity. I kind of hope it does.

               And that’s five things I learned the hard way. Some of this might seem obvious to you, but I wanted to share in case you yourself are still struggling with some of them. I find a lot of hope in these realizations. Everything is a process, and there are always good things around the corner.

#blog post #life lessons #mental health

[therandomavenger]

5 lessons 2023 taught me

1. The way you feel about a place is not necessarily how they feel about you.

2. It's ok if the things I like are not objectively good.

3. Toddlers and puppies aren't faking it if they like being around you.

4. It feels amazing to be loved as the person you really are.

5. I am not too old and it is not too late.

#2023 in review #gay stuff

[therandomavenger]

Favorite Books of 2023

When this year started, I set myself a challenge on Goodreads to read 100 books. Currently, I have read 159 books, so I guess you could say I overperformed. Those are print books, eBooks, and audiobooks. I make no distinctions. There’s nothing on the list under 100 pages, either, so I didn’t really count individually published short stories, though I did count the collections.

I love books and I love talking about them, so I’m going write about my favorite books I read this year. A word about the list: This is a list of books that I read this year, not necessarily books that were published this year. And while I am numbering them (sort of), this is also not necessarily a list of the best books I read this year, merely my favorites. Most of the books I read tend to be science fiction and fantasy, though I do read a healthy amount of nonfiction as well, as well as some general fiction. I do not read horror, except in rare cases. This list is merely to give me a chance to talk about things I loved.

Also, I have combined entire series or multiple books in a series as one entry. I do not apologize for this.

So, because no one demanded it, here are my favorite books I read this year, in reverse order. The order changed several times while compiling the list so don’t get too hung up on the number assignments.

Honorable Mentions

The Creative Act by Rick Rubin (Nonfiction) This is a meditation on creativity in all its forms, though Rubin is primarily known as a music producer and his examples reflect that. It’s about how creative minds work. There’s a lot of talk about process, and how to get unstuck, but mostly it’s about how to live as a creative person.

The Undiscovered Country Vol 1-4 by Scott Snyder, Charles Soulle, and Giuseppe Camuncoli (Graphic Novel). This series takes place a number of years in the future, after the United States has sealed its borders and cut off all communication with the outside world. Thirty years later, a group is invited to return, and see what the US has become. What has it become? A bunch of independent regions who are all some flavor of fucked up. Also, time inside may be broken? This is a fantastic, thought-provoking adventure story. The characters are fascinating, the art is amazing.

How to be an Anti-Racist by Ibram X. Kendi (Nonfiction). This is a book about racism in all its forms, the effects it has had on society, and how to combat it within yourself and within the culture at large. Kendi lets no one off the hook for any of this. It really made me think about several things in new ways.

And now the top ten, in reverse order.

10. Winter’s Orbit/Ocean’s Echo by Everina Maxwell (Science Fiction). I told you I was combining books, though I’m really cheating here because while these are linked, they are essentially standalones. In Winter’s Orbit, an arranged marriage ends up overturning the political system of an entire star system. In Ocean’s Echo, Maxwell gives us a sci-fi spin on the fake dating trope. The world is Queer normative, which was refreshing. Both couples in each book were male/male. Exciting sci-fi concepts plus relationship drama. What’s not to love?

9. The End of Everything by Katie Mack (Nonfiction). I inhaled this book, I found it so fascinating. In it, Mack discusses, in an entertaining and surprisingly hopeful way, the current theories about how the universe might end, going into detail about when it might happen and what it might look like to the people (or beings) who are around for it. Some of these are distressingly plausible and could happen at any moment. She concentrates on the science, and how we know what we know, as well as what the implications are for our current world.

8. Far Sector by N.K. Jemison and Jamal Campbell (Graphic Novel). Rookie human Green Lantern Jo Mullen is assigned to the City Enduring, on the other side of the cosmos, and has to solve a series of murders and attempt to start a war from breaking out among the city’s thousands of factions. I usually don’t read stuff from the major superhero universes, but Jemison brought me in to this and it did not disappoint. It is also enough of a standalone that you can read it without caring about what else is going on in the wider universe. The art is gorgeous, which is a bonus.

7. The Engineer/The Gangster/The Doctor by CS Poe (Fantasy). A federal agent hunts down criminals in a steampunk world, while hiding from his own past as a war criminal, and along the way falling in love with an outlaw. I read the first book and immediately downloaded the rest that were available. The fantasy concepts and worldbuilding are original, and the love story is swoonworthy, which is all you can ask for with something like this.

6. Once and Future Vol 1-5 by Kieron Gillen, Dan Mora, and Tamra Bonvillan (Graphic Novel). As prophecy foretold, King Arthur has returned to reclaim his crown, accompanied by a motley assortment of creatures out of legend. This is not a good thing, because King Arthur is a powerful psychopath who does not have the people’s best interests at heart. An aging warrior, her grandson, and the grandson’s maybe girlfriend are all that can oppose the new order, as the British Isles are plunged into chaos. It’s a startling take on the legends, as well as a meditation on what heroism actually is. The story is complete in these five volumes.

5. Nettle and Bone by T. Kingfisher (Fantasy). This is not a story about a princess who wants to marry a prince. This is a story about a princess who wants to kill one. She has her reasons, and will assemble a collection of allies to help her. Also, a really sweet slow-burn love story. This won the HUGO, so it really doesn’t need me to recommend it, but I do.

4. An Echo in the Sorrow/A Veiled and Hallowed Eve by Hailey Turner (Fantasy). These are the final two volumes in Turner’s Soulbound Series, about a wounded battle mage illegally soul-bonded to his werewolf boyfriend. And this conclusion did not disappoint. A lot of amazing urban fantasy concepts, a veritable war of the gods, plus all the feels. I was eager to see Jono and Patrick find their happy ever after, and she made me sweat for it, but Turner delivered.

3. Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman (Nonfiction). This is more than a book about productivity. It is a book about our entire relationship with time itself, and our sense of progress. It made me think of these things in new ways, and was also an enjoyable, engaging read. A book about what we’re really looking for and how we might go about finding it.

2. Last Exit by Max Gladstone (Fantasy). Ten years ago, a group of college studentsembarked on an epic quest through many possible worlds, on a mission to save reality. They failed, and one of them fell. Now, the survivors must complete the quest even though they now have hard-fought-for lives they are leaving behind. Serious Dark Tower vibes here, and a twist I did not see coming, but made perfect sense. A book about what we owe to the past, and what we owe to each other. Also, hope.

1. The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune (Fantasy). An easy pick for one of my favorite books of all time. Linus is sent to investigate Arthur’s Home for Magical Youth, and ends up finding more than he bargained for. A book about finding your family and your true love at the same time, and the lengths you’ll go to to fight for them. Also, about discovering who you really are, and the strength waiting inside you. I bawled like a baby through the last fifty pages, not even kidding.

And that’s it, my favorite books of the year. What were your favorites?

#blog post #books of 2023

[therandomavenger]

Congratulations I'm Sorry

As the year ends, I find myself in a time of transition.

Some things are good. Great, even. On December 5th, which was the first anniversary of our first date, my boyfriend, Jimmy, and I had brunch at the same place we’d first met a year ago. He’d invited my mom and dad to join us. And after we’d eaten, he asked me to marry him. I said yes, of course. He was crying. I was crying. My mom was crying. It was a whole thing. So, now we’re planning a wedding, which we are thinking will be next fall.

It's been a long road to get here. Before a couple of years ago, I had never pictured myself in an actual relationship with a man, much less marrying one. It’s a complicated issue. I’ve been gay my entire life, but that was just physical, I thought. Also, I didn’t have a lot of examples either in media or my own life of happy gay couples. It never even occurred to me that it was possible. Over the course of the last couple of years, and especially since my previous marriage ended, I did imagine it. Dreamed of it, even. I spent four years on the dating apps, and let me tell you that was rough. I got ghosted so many times you wouldn’t even believe it. If not outright rejected. Also catfished, which was fun.

But I don’t regret any of that because it was how I ultimately found Jimmy. From the beginning, I knew that he was different. He texted back, for one thing. We took our relationship slow (although I did introduce him to my family after two weeks, which I have to admit was not slow). We got to know each other over time, neither of us pushing the other into anything we weren’t ready for. On March 3rd, I realized that I’d fallen in love with him. I didn’t tell him that for another couple of months because it was, frankly, none of his business. In April he moved in with me and we made plans to buy my house together. He gave me a promise ring in June. And we’ve been low-key planning our ‘hypothetical’ wedding ever since. So, when he asked me to marry him, I had only one response. ‘It would be the greatest honor of my life.’ And I mean that. I love him and I’m thrilled to be his, and that he is mine. I never thought I could have this. The fact that it’s happening at 50 is another surprise, but I’ll take it.

My parents and my kids love him, as do my grandkids, so that makes things easier. We’re not young, by any means, but we have a lot of good years in front of us, and it makes me happy knowing that I’m going to be spending them with him. I’m excited to get married, yes, but I’m more excited about the person I get to marry. I think that’s a good sign.

Also this month, I decided to go back to school. Our local community college offers a digital art and design certificate that can be completed in two semesters. It entails a great many things, including graphic design, and I would like to be able to do my own formatting and design work, as well as design my own book covers. If I get good at it, maybe I can even do it for other people. We’ll see how far my talents take me. So, next semester I will be taking between 11 and 14 units, depending on how some things shake out. This led me to a realization about some other things.

I have worked at the Cottonwood Community Library as a volunteer since 2009. It gave me a safe place to put myself black together after my former career fell apart, and I will always be grateful for that. Now, volunteering at the library is not like volunteering at other organizations. Volunteers are the staff. The only one who gets paid is the director. I’m not really certain that’s a good business model, but it is a community library, receiving no state or county money. So, really, it’s the only way they can run.

But I’ve long started to feel like my time at the library was coming to a close. I’m not interested in the same type of books our patrons are interested in, which is fine, but it made me feel like I just really wasn’t in sync with the people I was serving. Also, the library isn’t used by very many people. We would consider ourselves very busy if we had 12 people in a three-hour shift. So, I l had the sense I wasn’t really providing a vital community service. And while it is true that I will not be in school on Saturdays, and could conceivably still work my weekly shift, I feel that I’m going to need Saturday as a writing day. So, I told the director I needed a leave of absence while I was in school.

This was not well received. It got ugly. So, I quit effective immediately. They even called the police to make sure I returned my keys. It would have been nice if the people I had been working with would have thanked me for my fourteen years of service and wished me well in my new endeavor, but I guess that was too much to ask for.

I’m a little sad about the way things ended, but I am not sad that they ended. I was ready to do something else. I put a lot of time and energy into that place over the years. I thought it was appreciated, but I guess it really wasn’t, which is a little hard to deal with. But that’s just how things are sometimes. I’m not sure how much longer the library will keep going. Fundraising has been a problem as has recruiting and retaining volunteers. I wonder why. I think the community could be doing a lot more to support it if they really value it, but it is no longer any of my concern. I do wish them well, however. They’ll have to find someone else to call when the network goes down.

So, as 2023 winds down and I get ready for 2024, I’m looking forward to new challenges. I still plan on writing 30,000 words a month and I have my schedule set to do this. I don’t want to fall behind on my books. But another friend has cautioned me that I shouldn’t be too hard on myself if I find my transition back into being a full-time student a more difficult one than I am imagining. We’ll see. I should be done with the program next December if all goes well. I’m really looking forward to learning a new set of skills.

So right now, I’m happy about the future and a little sad about the way some things have ended. I think that adequately describes life. Congratulations I’m sorry. It’s better than a lot of the alternatives.

#blog post #life lessons

[therandomavenger]

Wow this is the first time I've ever hosted a big family dinner, and there were some things I forgot about. Like making sure we had enough forks and adequate serving utensils. It was chaos, I was scrambling at the last minute and nothing matched, but no one cared. My ex mother-in-law would have punched me in the face (and would have been right to do so).

But it was a lovely dinner and the turkey (prepared by Jimmy Coats) was amazing and I don't think I did too bad of a job on the sides (I peeled potatoes, people, can you imagine?!) We had just enough room around the table (which I purchased for D&D and seats 8).

I forgot, of course, to take pictures. Oops.

That's Grayson-Coats Thanksgiving #1 in the books.

One note about today. If you had told me even five years ago that I would

1. Be out of the closet to absolutely everyone and

2. Have a for real boyfriend and that we would be

3. hosting Thanksgiving and it would be

4. No big deal

I would have asked for some of whatever you were smoking (don't do drugs, kids)

But that is my life now and it feels amazing.

#thanksgiving #gay stuff