Motivational Awesomeness and Kind Gestures

The post today has to deal with amazing people. They really do exist. You know, the people you see in movies or books: selfless, kind toward their fellow man, saviors. People who generally believe in the value of the person standing next to them, even if they do not know them. The people who do not judge, but see potential in their fellow human being. Who see a good thing, a good thing someone is trying to do with their life, and is willing to bet on it.

This is such a story.

I will be posting this story to both my blogs, because, well, it's a huge ego boost for my novice writing abilities. And it just makes me feel good to know that there are still people out there in the world who truly believe in the great potential of their fellow man.

The story begins a far few months ago. I was working at my bar, a trade I have been slaving at and keeping as a way to make money while I pursue my real dreams, the various they may have been, and in walks one particular gentleman.

He is a regular at one of our sister bars. (The Irsish guys who own the bar I work at also own about 20+ locations in the greater Houston area). So, we get a lot of regs from different parts of town simply because of the name we carry. And we have been an established bar for over 20 years.

He is an older gentleman, late 40's maybe. Has a very successful business, moving company. And he has worked all over the country and in his travels and work has had the pleasure of meeting quite a many famous and influential people.

This guy is literally the guy who just likes having someone to talk to. About anything. And he is super positive and proud of his life, and is loving the fact he is still around to share his stories with anyone who is willing to listen.

I like these kinds of people. They are genuine. You can tell just by the first five minutes of meeting the man he has had a very full life, and is still going. And wants to take anyone along for the ride, either literally, or through the form of his storytelling.

He came across me one Tuesday night. And like most Tuesdays, it was was rather slow at my bar, so I had plenty of time to talk. The usual subject came about, Patron asks bartender, "So, what are you doing with your life? How are things? What are your goals." The basic introductory, 'How are you, I want to know you better." Because, let's face it, The bartender is always an interesting stranger with stories to tell, Otherwise, why would anyone want to talk to us? ;)

So, I give him the shpeel about my life: I am a recent college grad, working on my first novel, hoping to sell it one day, and just sit on my bum pumping out fabulous stories through my fingers for the rest of my life. Oh, and make a comfortable living off of it.

Of course, he is interested. And most are! It's exciting to talk about my dreams, and I love sharing them with people. I consider myself an open book, and I will go on and on, especially about stories and writing.

So, I give him the premise of my book: A fucked up Alice in Wonderland story, psychological thriller, fantasy/horror elements, and oh yeah, it's gonna be a series because apparently I am a wordy muther fucker when writing. (You wouldn't be able to tell so much from me speaking. I write much better than I talk.)

And, he's hooked. So much so, that he straight up says he wants to buy the very first copy of the final draft. For $100.

Say whaaaa?

Okay, guy. Sure thing! Of course, I am skeptical, but he seems legit. But, it's one of those things. "You say that now, but I'll believe it when I see it" kind of scenarios.

So we continue to talk and chat for another hour or so. (He tips well of course.) And I don't see him again for several months.

Months later, he comes in again, "Heyo! Remember me? How's the book coming?"

Of course, I give him an update (At the beginning of this year I gave myself a goal to be ready to publish by the end of the year, and I am still on track for this.) I tell him, and he's still excited. And he, not me, reminds me of our deal. He says he wants a written contract, saying that the very first copy, even if I have to kinko myself, bind, and sign for him, belong to him. And he will pay me the hundo.

Hell ya dude!

But, still, I'll believe it when I see it. Not to say I did not believe him. I just was not sure when I would see him again. It had been months, And it is just silly to count on an anomaly like this.

Then, last night, he comes in again, super excited. Tries fervently to get my attention. (This was an unusually busy Tues, so there were no seats at the bar. I see him, he wiggles his way into a seat, and says:

"Hey girl! Getting close to finishing?"

Me, all Hey guy! Nice to see ya again!: "Actually, yeah! Six chapters to go, and an epilogue, then time to edit, then publish!"

He smiles, and whips out a cool clean hundo. Hands it to me, and says, "I would like a receipt for this. I'm paying you in advance." *smiles wide*

I am star stuck. Jaw hits the floor. I look at him with an 'Are you serious?' look. I mean, I am not even finished with it yet, and this guy is serious!?

Awesome!

So, I grab the nearest piece of paper, a blank guest check of course, (as I am still barGooning) and proceed to write out the following:

He hands me the hundo, we both sign the 'contract', and we chat for about an hour while he has a couple beers, asking me about my life, and telling me about his.

He says he wanted to catch me early because he moved to the north side of town, and wasn't in much, and he had a feeling that if he didn't catch me soon, that he wouldn't catch me at all.

This is very eerie because I am actually thinking of leaving the bar trade very soon, for various reasons, the main one that I am pretty sure I am developing carpel tunnel in my left wrist (I'm not even 30 yet!) and I only have it in me to Goon until the end of next Spring.

I tell him how right he is, and my plans for the future, and that I reeeeaaally hope the novel takes off so I don't have to get a regular, normal, boring ass desk job that I will absolutely hate.

We chat some more. And he one ups our deal telling me he knows a lot of influential people that would be willing to invest in me if my novel is worth anything. I tell him, "Fuck yeah!" I hope that I am a good investment. I think my book will be good, and even if it isn't, it's not like it's the only thing I am writing, or will ever write again. I can only get better, right?

I keep telling him, "I hope this money is a good investment for you. If I do make it, that signed first edition copy might be worth a lot of money." *giggle-I-have-dreams-giggle*

I was being sarcastic and humorous, but he simply smiled and said, "Honey, I know it will be. Why do you think I showed up tonight? Did you think I was hitting on you?"

Yeah, most guys do, buuuuut. Weird thing. No, not really.

I told him of course not, because he knew I was married, from previous discussions, and that I thought it was really beyond amazing that he was willing to take a chance on me. He expressed no other intentions, did not ask me out, did not say how pretty I was. Was only interested in the fact that I had a dream , and he wanted to help.

I am still baffled that he was genuine in his intention. Because I have been in the industry for so long, that I automatically assume everyone, guys especially are hitting on me.
Or females hate me, because their guys are hitting on me.

I'm not vain. It's 90% fact. (More on this later for future TCBH posts.) *smile*

Anyhoo, we chat some more, and he eventually leaves, still tips very well for two Bud Light bottles, and I take down his contact info so I can let him know when his copy will be ready.

All in all, and he kept saying this, not me, 'How many authors have sold their first copy of their first book for $100? Not many. And you just did."

I was literally beaming with confidence and motivation after all this happened I had a hunch that he was serious from the get go, but when he followed through with his claim, I wanted to cry.

Moral of the story?

If you have ever wanted to be a writer, or artist, or follow any dream that was considered by popular society, 'outlandish' or 'impossible', then you will understand that by this one act of kindness, this one act of a complete stranger believing in the possibilities of another, how damn good that felt.

Thank you, Stacey Jackson. For taking a chance on me. I surely hope I do not disappoint you.

World, Are you ready for this?
Bring it.

Block'd

It's been awhile since I have come to this forum to dish out my woes, but I am finding myself running into something more and more often as of late. I'm feeling...

Block'd.

Writer's Block'd that is.

Well, I wouldn't say it is writer's block exactly... more like distracted as fuck.

As some of you may know, I am currently working on my first novel endeavour. And while it's singly the most awesome thing I have ever attempted in my life, it is also the hardest. Counting from beginning to end, I have had this novel in me wee little noggin for almost 3 years now. I have been fervently writing said novel down since the beginning of the year. With all that said, I think I am doing pretty swell. I am currently about half way done with the first draft. Considering I didn't rrreeeaally start writing shit down until March, I think I am doing pretty effing swell, yo!

But...
As the chapters go on,
As the World turns...
The days get hotter,
The hours get longer...

Fuck my life if I can't sit down for more than an hour at a time and hammer out my awesome ideas.
They really are pretty awesome.
I don't pretend to be original in my ideas or anything, don't misunderstand me. It's pretty easy to see where my influences come from: various writer's styles, several movies, songs, scenes, video games...

Hell, I'm literally writing a fucked up version of Alice in Wonderland. I am not trying to hide it either.
But, I do have to say, that my ideas and the way I put things together are pretty enjoyable, and I do think that the novel, when it reaches completion, will make a fun read.

But... Fucking Summer... Has me distracted with all the things.
I mean, there's the beach, the pool, drinking with friends, Netflix, Nook books, playing with my pussy (My Cat, Eiko, Pervs!) and many, many other things that tempt me away from writing down my awesome tale.

Take today for instance.
I finally have a whole day off. No work, no plans (not until evening time anyway), nothing to do, I should get some hella work done, yeah? You would think! 5k words at least! That's like, a whole chapter! Should be easy!

Nope.

How much did I write today?
400 words.
Yeah, 400 fucking words.
That's it.
That's like 3 paragraphs.

Fuck.

What else did I do today?
Woke up, worked out, ate eggs (awesome eggs!), read some book thing, took a nap, wrote some shit, got distracted by Facebook, walked outside to check out the scenery, decided it was an awesome day to go to the pool, pool'd, Instagram'd, drank some wine, and then came home with intention to get more chapter writing done. And, what did I actually accomplish when I sat down again? Effing nada.

Started editing blogs.
And started writing this one.

Fuck.

There goes my whole day I had to get a chapter done, and what do I do? Fuck it right off. Yup, gave this day one hell of a hand job, but the full lay two-way would have been sweet. At least I then would have felt satisfied...

So, what is my problem here? I seriously have the entire chapter mapped out in my head. From beginning to end, but I cannot find the motivation to write it down. It's like I am fumbling with the keys trying to make words out of the pictures in my head.
And believe me when I say, this chapter is going to rock!
I just can't seem to get it down.
*sigh*

So, yeah, I'm not really block'd, just distracted. I know what I want to say, but trying to get it down on computer screen is like pulling teeth.

I am just gonna go out on a limb and say that the answer to my problem is a Vacation! *kneels in prayer position*

Yeah, that That will help... More distractions, that's just what I need.

But, on the other hand, because it is summer, my day job is at it's slowest. The bar trade in my part of the world is super suffering. No one is going out to party because school is about to start, so I have to work almost double the shifts to make the money I am used to making the rest of the year.

Bottom line?
I am tired, overworked, bored as fuck, and without motivation.
Welcome to my Writer's Block.

Fml.
*firstworldwoes*

Oh, Holidays... You Sneaky Bastards.

It's that time of year again folks!

Yup, the Holidays.

Whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Festivus, Yule, the Solstice, or any of the others, or a combination of a few, etc., etc., it is that time of year to party, buy gifts, eat like fat kids, and not have to go to work for a couple of days. Take a break, kick off your shoes, pour yourself a drink, and relax. That is, if you have time for that sort of thing. If you do, take hard advantage of it because not all of us do.

I myself was finally able to Xmassize my abode last week. I barely made it in time for Yule with the lights, mini tree (no time could be afforded for my usual giant one), bought and wrapped presents (which I finally finished today, Christmas Eve), and now am able to "relax," finally, with my bottle of wine and grilled cheese sammich.
Dinner of champions, I know. :)

Admidst all the hustle and bustle that comes with this time of year, it always comes into light when people "battle" for their own particular holiday, as if any of the others simply do not exist. It always breaks my heart to see such ignorance, and even more so since it comes up during a time of year that is supposed to be filled with joy, happiness, family, and understanding. There is absolutely no room, ideally, for such ignorance and stupidity to clog our intelligences, so why does it come up every year?

This year bugged me especially since Facebook has become so prominent, and along with it picture meme's to express our feelings or thoughts on a particular subject. One such meme I came across the other day encompassed a phrase basically entailing, "Hit 'Like' if you say 'Merry Christmas' instead of 'Happy Holidays!'"
I was nearly outraged...
Absolutely nothing against wishing someone a Merry Christmas, even though I am a Wiccan and celebrate the Solstice and Yule, but I would never EVER correct someone as to my personal beliefs. If you wish me a Merry Christmas, I will wish you the same. If you wish me Happy Holidays, I will wish you the same. If you wish me a Merry whateveryourpersonalbelievedandcelebratedholiday, I will wish you the same, with an open heart and a Big smile on my face.

It is not, and should never be, about what you particularly prefer as a holiday. I have always believed in the spirit of the holiday season, whatever that holiday might be. The fact that you took the time to wish me well in absolutely anything is worth mention, praise, a thank you, and a smile. I appreciate any well wish you are willing to toss my way, either in all sincerity or as a casual greeting/goodbye. I also do not believe that saying 'Happy Holidays' as opposed to say, 'Merry Christmas,' or anything else in particular, takes away from the spirit of the holidays. A well wish is a well wish,, and should be treated accordingly. Just because someone may not know your personal belief, and is being polite by being generic with their wishing you something in kindness, please, do not be offended. Consider the fact that that person may be being considerate, because you never know a person's contents by glancing at their cover. At the same time, if someone wishes you a Merry Christmas, and you do not celebrate it, there is absolutely nothing wrong with saying it back. They celebrate it, and even if you don't, there is no harm in wishing someone well on their particular holiday.

And, on the same note, a friend has told me that her job requires her to say 'Happy Holidays' instead of what she would prefer, 'Merry Christmas.' I understand that the job market would be a little different, and to save face in possibly offending someone, keeping things generic. While I do see the reason behind the logic, I do not completely agree with  her employer's standards. She should be able to say whatever she wishes, as it is her personal right to freedom of religion.
I only wish everyone were intelligent enough to not get in a huff about things...
People should feel comfortable to wish anyone whatever kindness during this time of year, and on the same front, ideally, the receiving end should be intelligent enough to receive a well wish of any kind, and respond to it with equal kindness.

I am not saying all this for people to get in a huff about things. I just think that the ignorance and unwillingness to accept someone for who they are and choose to be is ridiculous. We have evolved to such a state where it does not take a great deal of smarts to try to understand each other... I know we are a loooooong way from world peace, or any great feat of such nature, but come on guys, it's the Holidays.

So Merry/Happy Christmas, Hanukkah, Yule, Festivus, Quanza, or whichever Holiday you personally prefer. I mean absolutely no offense by any message within the content of this blog post.

Happy Holidays to all, and I sincerely wish you and yours the most merry and jolly of times.
Even if you don't celebrate anything, pour yourself a glass of wine, and enjoy a wonderful day. :)

Evolution

Do you remember when you were a kid and you did something insanely stupid, started crying and whining, and all your parents said to you was, "Suck it up. Act like a grownup!"? Yeah... Being a grownup isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Was does it mean to be a grownup anyhow? All I have seen so far as a gain from being one of these creatures of the "grownup" clan is that I get to eat Cheetos whenever I want... On the down side, if I eat too many Cheetos, I get stupid fat super quick because my metabolism is shot to shit because I am old. Mostly, being a grownup sucks balls compared to being a kid. Yeah, you have freedom, but it comes with heavy responsibility  And by heavy I mean metric tons heavy.

I am finding myself recently running into a stage where I have to act like a grownup yet again. I say "again" because being a grown person requires many, many, many stages and occurrences in which one must "act his age" and make responsible decisions. The most recent stage of my development has come into light with the fact that I have finally graduated from college. After the ever popular and appreciated "Congratulations" come my way, the statement is inevitably followed by, "What are you going to do now?"

Well, fuck me.

The truth is...
Fuck if I know!

There are so many plans and possibilities. I could teach (barf). I could get a "real job" (double barf).
I really want to finish my book that I have been working on for the past 2 years, and hopefully will be able to sell it, and get famous, and yeah, that would be omg so awesome. But, the realist in me is always searching for that backup plan. Sure, I would LOVE for my novel to be an overnight hit, then I'll never have to get a real job and can stay in the clouds forever! YUS! I like this idea!
But... Yeah. How likely is that to happen? Honestly? It is not that I doubt my skills as a writer and storyteller. I am pretty good, I think...

But still. What do I do while I'm waiting to get famous?

I have been a bartender for 11 years now. Yes, over a damn decade. And frankly, as much as I do enjoy my job, I cannot wait to put it behind me and permanently park my ass on the bar-stool on the other side. The fact of the matter is, that while I am only 28, I'm also almost 30. I have absolutely NO desire whatsoever to still be slinging drinks post 30. So, what do I do? Work on my almost nonesistentofviableworkplaceexperience resume? Yeah, I guess. Maybe I will get lucky... I am a Literature major after all, and I graduated Magna Cum Laude. Maybe the "man" will overlook the fact that I have almost no experience in an office type setting. Now the other major issue comes to light... Money. What do you pay an entry level college grad? Diddly squat is what. Why? Just because they can. So, no matter where I go or what job I land, I will more than likely be taking a pay cut. Frak.

But, the dilemma lies in this: Do I have it in me to stick it out in the bar another year? Or am I so far at the end of my rope that I will take the plunge into a lower paying job just so I can change the pace of my life?
Achievement Unlocked: Life Dilemma.

So, you see, being a grownup is not all it is cracked up to be as when you are looking at the possibility through the rose colored glasses of a desiring child.

Every person who ever told me to "Act my Age" or "Grow the Fuck Up," I kinda wanna punch you in the junk. Thanks for the false advertisement, Dickheads.

Trying to Find the In-Between

It has been one hell of a long week for so many of us. Death has the shuddering ability to suspend the world in motion, throwing us all off balance. Someone you expected to know your whole life, someone you have known since you were kids, suddenly and without warning yanked from the breath of this world.

There are no words which can describe that feeling of loss. For you, the still living, still breathing, the world stops. Reality comes crashing in. Hope dissipates before your very eyes. Unable to function or think in the simplest sense. This is the harsh reality of the effects of sudden death.

How do you deal with these things? Many people have varying ways in which they cope. I, myself, am a mechanical person. Set me at the simplest tasks and keep my brain focused on anything but what is emotionally going on around me. Must keep moving. The world has stopped, but I must keep moving or I will lose my mind...

The shitty part about all of this is that it never gets any easier. I have experienced so much death in my lifetime, but none of my former dealings with this matter ever prepare me for the next. I never become desensitized to the fact that someone, someone I know, have known for most of my life...
I cannot even finish the sentence.

With all of this, the experience, how does one get moving again? Life does go on, whether you want it to or not. How do you pick yourself up off the floor and get your ass in gear and take care of what needs to be done? In theory, the mechanics keep you going. Wake up, shower, eat, drive, school, work, eat, sleep. You would think all of this would keep you busy, and it does, but what about the time when you have nothing to do? Or when you see something on the road, or hear a song on the radio and cannot help but breaking down into tears? This is the hard part. You will always be reminded of the person you miss.

Comfort of family and friends helps a great deal. You can pick each other off the floor. Tell awesome funny stories and share your grief with one another. I always feel that I am the one working hard to make everyone smile, but what about the times when I break down? It's more than likely you will never see it, because what happens when the person you use as a rock crumbles before you? It is devastating.

So I keep on moving mechanically completing my chores of life. Going to school, doing homework. Trying to be the best person I can be because I know that is what the person would want for me, to Live.
To Love.
To Keep Breathing.
To Be Happy.
I must strive each and every day to pursue my dreams, never taking an opportunity for granted. I will get my ass kicked if I don't. My resolve is strong. It was strong before, but now it is impenetrable. I will fucking Live, truly Live.

It's so damned hard to deal with this shit, but I can promise that I will never give up. I keep reminding myself of the good times, the silly times, and I feel comforted and blessed to have known you. I will make more of an effort to tell the people I love that I appreciate them, and at the same time, never miss an opportunity for an adventure. I will be thankful for my life and stop and smell the roses. It's going to be hell of hard, it fucking sucks right now, but I will never stop living, until it is my destined time.

It is never, ever, easy to lose someone close to you. Never take for granted the people in your life. They help shape you. They are a part of who you are. Honor them by saying they are important to you and never miss a chance to go do something Awesome.

It is so cliche to say, but it is the damn truth: You never truly appreciate the last time you hang out with someone, until it is the last time. Make each "time" count. Really count. Only then will you have no regrets.

I will not wallow in sorrow, nor will I get so full of myself that I forget what is important.
I will constantly struggle to find the In-Between.

"Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment."
~Buddha

Chronicles of No One: Part Three

Rasping. Wheezing. Ugly, horrid sounds escape my mouth as I exhale.

Another Lost Dream.

More blood. More violence. Shadows of monster-like figures play across my still dazed and sleep weary mind.

Clues. The images must be clues. They make dream drugs, but can they control your dreams? I am beginning to toy with such an idea. Sitting in a closed cell with no light or sense of time will do that to you.

Drive you crazy.

 At first, the Whites didn't seem to be interested in my dreams, or anything else besides keeping me lucid and plugged full of prescription cocktails. But, every time I wake, more nurses in white come running in to dope me at the first sign of my body stirring.

The drugs are both torture and a blessing. The more intense my physical reaction to my dreams, the more tranq must be in that needle. When I seem to find peace absent the dreams, the drugs they bring in daily act as an agent, sneaking into my mind and slowly bringing the demons that plague my subconscious to a rolling boil until I spill over the edge, my body writhing in pain.

It must be a system of control. Bring her to the breaking point… but don’t let her body fail. Give her enough rest to recover before starting the process all over again.

Fuck this hell.

(A voice whispers mockingly...)

Bitch. You get what you deserve. Fucking murderous cunt.

Oh yeah, did I mention I am also insane?? I hear voices when I am awake. They scare the shit out of me to be frankly honest. Calling me horrible names, speaking of unthinkable terrors. Picking at the borders of my sanity.

They talk directly to me. Taunting. Evil.

There must be a purpose to all of this.

I must get out of here. There has to be a way…

(No One begins to sob angrily. Clenching her fists into tight balls of fury she begins to scream against the walls of her confine.)

“FUCKTHISPLACEANDFUCKYOU!!!!! PIECE OF SHIT HELLHOLE WITH YOUR PIECE OF SHIT VOICES!!!!!
FUUUUUUUCKK!!!!”  

(Nurses rush in and manage to pin No One down and restrain her to the bed. A female nurse with Red hair peeking out from under her cap produces a needle from her pocket and brashly administers the drug to No One’s neck. The hysterics immediately lose sway as the drugs take effect.
Just as No One is about to drift off into unconsciousness, the unknown voice pipes in for a lullaby...)

More drugs for the crazy girl. Always more drugs.
Sleep tight, little bitch! I’ll be seeing you soon…

Inspiration

Don't you just love the long awaited epiphany feeling after weeks of mind blocks? I sure do! I am also pretty sure that most people do not suffer from this episode quite as much as I do, as most people are not trying to accomplish the next to impossible task of becoming a writer... a successful one of course.

Nonetheless, I have been working on a short story now for the past few months and have been having a hard time trying to figure out the ending direction. I always had a thought in mind, but how to execute it effectively has eluded me for some time now. Thanks to my dreams returning to their wonderfully inspirational and fantastical state, I now have the mechanics to finish it. YAY!

"Chronicles of No One" was a spur of the moment writing exercise that included simply me sitting down with a blank canvas and a keyboard - OKGO! The first excerpt turned out quite well, flowing along with ease. The second excerpt went pretty well also, but left more questions as to how I would end the durn thing... Hrrmmm.

Like most writers (I would assume, since I know so few) I have my stories constantly stewing in the back of my mind, ready to be brought up to the front lines at a moments notice. The main aspect being my novel that I have been working on for the past two years now (Alyce!) and this short story that began as a let's-play-around-with-writing-and-see-what-comes-out exercise. I have notes on both and add to them whenever I get any fleeting moment of inspiration. Such inspiration can come from literally anywhere: dreams, movies, TV shows, conversations, people watching, animals... The list is endless. Although, my favorite soup from which I pull ideas is from the ramblings of my subconscious.

Usually my dreams are an endless source of inspiration, full of fantasy and surreal events. Lately, I have to admit, this has not been the case, and it has left me utterly devastated. For almost 6 solid weeks, every night, my dreams have been polluted with horrible, utterly horrible Nightmares. Now, anyone who knows me on a personal level knows that I rarely ever have bad dreams. Rarely as in almost Never. But, something has been infiltrating and plaguing my mind to cause my dreams to take a turn for the worst, leaving my writing and my persona in a state of desolation.

Oddly enough, however, this paranoid state I have experienced very closely resembles the protagonist in "Chronicles" as No One constantly has nightmares, all consuming ones, that has resulted in her lost identity. Extremely weird parallel... {Found it!} I am sure the close correlation between myself and one of my protagonists was completely coincidental, but, I will take what I can get. As a result of my own personal plight, I now have a solid direction in which to take my story to conclusion. It is odd how the universe works, quite odd indeed. I am not saying in any way that this short story is a major work from the up and coming Lauren Fae, as it will probably remain an exercise, a test, in which I better myself as a writer. However, I am a firm believer in silver linings, no matter how small.

While the case of my personal nightmare advent is still open and under investigation, I am quite confident to say that "Chronicles" will be completed very soon and available for your reading pleasure. Stay tuned!