There's a popular saying that goes "when one door closes, another one opens". For the longest time (and still, to some extent now), the saying got on my nerves. Not just the fact that it's a trite concept of life; but also that it's such an unrealistic view on how things work. It's as if they believe that there's some magic fairy that waves their wand when things go bad and "poof" everything is better again.
Yet, Newton's Third Law of Motion states that for every action, there's and opposite and equal reaction. And life is eternally in motion; so, perhaps, there's some truth to the glib platitude.
To be blunt, I'm not sure where my life is, at this moment. It's no longer in Limbo, but it doesn't feel like there's going to be any massive life changing events before the end of the year. Which, let's be honest, I'm quite grateful for that. This year has had it's fill of turbulence and I would be quite pleased if it would calm down for a bit. I'm working again (albeit severely part time); but I'm back in my element- a bookstore. I didn't realize how much I missed it until I started working for B&N. The commute is a nightmare, but when is it ever not? Most everyone has a dreadful commute, so why should I be any different. I'm single, still, but I'm much more open to the possibility of a relationship than I have been in quite some time. Let's be honest, if I keep waiting for the conditions to be right for me to date, I will die alone. Which is a concept that I'm not fond of at all.
No, as of this current moment, it feels as if I just allow myself to let go of the illusion of control over my life, then things will actually fall into place. What that exactly means, I'm not certain. But, if there has been one indisputable fact that this year has given me, it's that the harder I try to "fix things", the more likely they are to unravel. So, by doing the exact opposite-letting go, I'm actually letting life take care of itself. At least in theory.
In ten days, I begin NaNoWriMo. I'm finally writing a book. And, I'm actually kinda at peace with it. I'm not stressing about it (yet) and I'm not doubting myself as to whether or not I can pull it off. I haven't had the opportunity to put together an outline; but considering the format I'm going with, an outline might now work in the first place. No, the one thing that does give me apprehension is that I looked up just how many words 1,667 is (that, by the way, is the daily word count needed to pull off 50k by the end of November) and it was a lot more than what I was expecting. But, it's only insurmountable if I psych myself out about it. Will I face challenges? Of course. Without a doubt. But it's worth it. Not only is it the reason I was put on this Earth, but it's something I deeply enjoy doing. Which was something else I was reminded of as I started working at B&N.
Sometimes fate needs you to pave your own way, and other times life needs you to just let things happen. I had a dream the other night that was a huge wake up call. I was basically shown that I have been stressing way too hard about things that were never in my control to begin with. Instead of walking through a door, I've been pushing at a wall trying to make it open. So, as I write this book and create a fictional life, I'm going to let my real life play out in whatever way it needs to.
Because, sometimes the best way to make a change is to do nothing at all.
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Friday, October 16, 2015
Get Scrappy.
So, next month is NaNoWriMo: National Novel Writing Month. There's a well known online organization that gets people to participate and become novelists. I've made several stabs in the past, but this year is going to be my year.
So, what exactly does that mean? 50,000 words in 30 days. Or, 1,667 words a day. To put that into perspective, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (46,333), The Giver (43,617), and Fahrenheit 451 (46,118) all had a lesser word count. Also factor in that Thanksgiving counts as one of those days. So if you don't want to write then, you're going to have to double up somewhere else. Also, (because I'm insane like this), I fully plan on continuing to blog in November, as well.
It's not easy. The best advice I have ever received when it came to writing came from none other than Patrick Rothfuss (author of The Name of the Wind). I asked him what his best advice for completing NaNoWriMo and he told me "Sit your ass in a chair and write. That's really it." Or, as Ernest Hemingway put it: "There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit at a typewriter and bleed."
Honestly, that's exactly what writing truly means. There's a whole hell of a lot of blood, sweat, and tears that goes into writing something. As Frank Herbert put it: "Fear is a mind killer" and there is a lot of that that happens as you put words to page. "Is this crap?" is something I ask myself with each blog post, poem, short story, etc. In fact, with my blog (and my poetry), I hit "submit" before reading it. That prevents me from butchering it or allowing it to get to my head. In fact, I rarely ever read my own posts. So, the fact that I'm dedicating a month of my life and creating a piece of work that I hope and pray will hit bookstores some day is daunting, to say the very least. I'm facing very real adversaries; both external (time and extenuating circumstances) and internal (doubt and distraction).
I'm scrappy. Which is a very nice way of saying I'm stubborn and hate to give up. When I'm truly dedicated to a project, nothing else matters. I pour every ounce of my being into what I am creating. And this particular project is one that I have made multiple attempts at. Which makes me all the more determined. So, by hell or by high water, I'm writing a book.
Saturday, October 10, 2015
"Every Saint Has a Past, Every Sinner Has a Future"
I make no excuses for my past. I'm human. I screw up-A LOT. Daily, to be honest. I'm far from perfect, and I make no bones about it. I've burned bridges that should still be standing. I've stayed on bridges that were clearly in flames. I trust too much, and not enough. I forgive and I hold on; probably much longer than I should. I am my own worst enemy, but I know I'm not the only enemy I have. And I know that those who hold a grudge against me have every right to.
But, at the end of the day, I'm still trying.
I was shot down, again, by unnamed tech company today. And there's a strong chance that I may have to leave B&N due to transportation issues. Both of which makes me equally sad and angry. I have fought, so damn hard, so completely damn hard, to finally get ahead and get my life back on track this year; only to be met with roadblock after roadblock. Mind you, there have been some (more than some, to be honest) that have been my fault. I am, as mentioned before, my own worst enemy. But, on the flip-side, there have been instances (such as my cancer scare this summer) that came out of the blue. Or the elongated job hunt that dragged on months longer than it should have. This has been a hell of a year and it's not over yet.
But I'm still kicking.
"Even foul balls are practice for home runs." I came up with that this evening when discussing this year's events. Ok, to be honest, it popped into my head and I typed it out. But I like it. Just like I like the Oscar Wilde quote that I'm using as the title. I know I'm not perfect. I know there are those out there who have every right to be angry at me, and are. I know I'm not done screwing up.
But I'm also not done trying to make things right.
"The Lannisters always pay their debts" is a very nefarious saying in the Game of Thrones/Song of Ice and Fire series. But, when Tyrion, the so-called Imp says it, he means it in the sense of the good of the realm. He doesn't care about gold or glory. He's there to right the wrongs and to finally fix the Seven Kingdoms (even as they tirelessly try to tear themselves apart). He's also my favorite character in the series. He actually gives a damn about Westeros and, even though all the odds are stacked against him (physical limitations being chief among them), he's still trying to not only right the wrongs of others, but of his own faults and disastrous mistakes. He is hardly a saint, but he's also a sinner who is trying. He could care less about his own fate-if anything, he has damned himself in his own mind. But if one commoner is spared or The Wall gains one more brother who will fight the good fight; then he can rest well knowing that there was some benevolence in the Universe. If only for a short while.
To be completely honest, I have no clue how this year is going to end. To call it a roller coaster is far too cliche to aptly describe it. I, frankly, don't even know if I'll survive to see the end of it. None of us have that guarantee. But I do know that when the end comes (may it be the end of the year or the end of my life) that I will not be who I was at the beginning of it. I'm stronger now. I'm more determined now. I'm more humble now. And I'm less perfect now. But, as we shed the facade of "perfection" do we truly allow ourselves to grow and become the individuals we were meant to be all along.
But, at the end of the day, I'm still trying.
I was shot down, again, by unnamed tech company today. And there's a strong chance that I may have to leave B&N due to transportation issues. Both of which makes me equally sad and angry. I have fought, so damn hard, so completely damn hard, to finally get ahead and get my life back on track this year; only to be met with roadblock after roadblock. Mind you, there have been some (more than some, to be honest) that have been my fault. I am, as mentioned before, my own worst enemy. But, on the flip-side, there have been instances (such as my cancer scare this summer) that came out of the blue. Or the elongated job hunt that dragged on months longer than it should have. This has been a hell of a year and it's not over yet.
But I'm still kicking.
"Even foul balls are practice for home runs." I came up with that this evening when discussing this year's events. Ok, to be honest, it popped into my head and I typed it out. But I like it. Just like I like the Oscar Wilde quote that I'm using as the title. I know I'm not perfect. I know there are those out there who have every right to be angry at me, and are. I know I'm not done screwing up.
But I'm also not done trying to make things right.
"The Lannisters always pay their debts" is a very nefarious saying in the Game of Thrones/Song of Ice and Fire series. But, when Tyrion, the so-called Imp says it, he means it in the sense of the good of the realm. He doesn't care about gold or glory. He's there to right the wrongs and to finally fix the Seven Kingdoms (even as they tirelessly try to tear themselves apart). He's also my favorite character in the series. He actually gives a damn about Westeros and, even though all the odds are stacked against him (physical limitations being chief among them), he's still trying to not only right the wrongs of others, but of his own faults and disastrous mistakes. He is hardly a saint, but he's also a sinner who is trying. He could care less about his own fate-if anything, he has damned himself in his own mind. But if one commoner is spared or The Wall gains one more brother who will fight the good fight; then he can rest well knowing that there was some benevolence in the Universe. If only for a short while.
To be completely honest, I have no clue how this year is going to end. To call it a roller coaster is far too cliche to aptly describe it. I, frankly, don't even know if I'll survive to see the end of it. None of us have that guarantee. But I do know that when the end comes (may it be the end of the year or the end of my life) that I will not be who I was at the beginning of it. I'm stronger now. I'm more determined now. I'm more humble now. And I'm less perfect now. But, as we shed the facade of "perfection" do we truly allow ourselves to grow and become the individuals we were meant to be all along.
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Small Town, Big Changes
Life is all about finding the balance in chaos. Accepting the things you cannot change and having the courage to change the things that you can. And, more importantly, being in the moment and appreciating it for what it is.
I'm finally settling in to where I'm living now. As mentioned in the last post, I moved (quite suddenly) last month to a small town on the Olympic Peninsula. It's gorgeous out here, but it's a bit of a culture shock to where I was living before. It's not like Auburn is a bustling hub-bub, but it is a city, surrounded by other cities. Out here, I'm truly in the middle of nowhere. There's pockets of civilization surrounded by forest. Now, mind you, I did grow up in the boonies, but it has been a long time since I've lived in that environment. People are in no hurry to get to where their going and everything shuts down pretty early. I was on the bus the other day and people were chatting with the bus driver as if it was an everyday conversation. People smile and wave at me as I'm walking down the street. It's...an adjustment. A good adjustment, but one, nonetheless.
And, now for the big news part. I've been keeping this under my hat because it's been stuff in development and I didn't want to spill the beans until things were official. I, as of yesterday, am gainfully employed once again. It's part time (only 18 hours), but it's something. And it's Barnes and Noble, so I'll be surrounded by books once again. And, speaking of employment, I'm also currently in talks with a tech company in Seattle. I won't disclose that one unless things become official, but that one would be full time, with a solid base pay plus commission. If I get hired on with them, I'll have to let B&N know that I got a better offer. Which wouldn't be hard because I don't even have a start date with them. So there's a (very slim) chance that I will get the offer from said tech company before I even begin B&N. But, also, if things fall through with the tech company, I'm still employed. Which is a massive sigh of relief.
The other bit of big news is that I'm finally going to be getting serious with my writing. I helped a friend move last week and one of her new roommates is someone who blogs professionally. Recently had a post published by the Huffington Post. She gave me a couple websites that get bloggers paid and published. I've signed up for both and will be posting from them soon. I will, of course, keep this one up and updated as regular as possible. But there's a strong chance you'll see my name in print soon. Fingers crossed anyway.
The other thing is that, as of this writing, NaNoWriMo is 25 days away. This year, by hook or by crook, I'm doing it. No more excuses, and, more importantly, no more crazy work schedule to prevent me from writing. That has been the main hurdle in the past and that is one that is finally out of my way. I also have a phenomenal idea that has been bouncing around my skull for the past few days that I'm going to go with. The story actually takes place in two different time periods: the "present" (actually 2011) day, with an old man turning 90, and 70 years prior, when that same man enters World War II just after turning 20. The old man is someone who is very unassuming and is spending the winter of his life in a nursing home. No one takes him seriously and he's considered frail. Wasting away. He's also missing his right leg. The parallel story is how he goes to war and even serves under General Patton in North Africa, where he loses his leg and is sent home. And how he watches his close friends go to Normandy and never return.
It's bittersweet, don't get me wrong. The idea came to me as I was wandering around a grocery store and saw an old man wearing an old army coat. There were some kids who walked right by him and didn't even glance at him. The disinterested kid I'm going to have in the story is going to be his own great-grandson, who really does not want to go to the birthday celebration of his great-grandfather. When he gets there, the two of them spend some time alone together and the kid finally works up the courage to ask about the leg. By the end of the novel, the kid will have some massive respect for the great-grandfather. I'm not sure yet if the old man will live to the end (closing chapter being a funeral). I don't have all the details, but I'm going to flesh it out now so come November 1st, I can just write.
So, yeah, that's the latest. I'm still alive. I'm still kicking. I'm not in a glass half full or empty state of mind. There's liquid in it and that's all that matters at this point.
I'm finally settling in to where I'm living now. As mentioned in the last post, I moved (quite suddenly) last month to a small town on the Olympic Peninsula. It's gorgeous out here, but it's a bit of a culture shock to where I was living before. It's not like Auburn is a bustling hub-bub, but it is a city, surrounded by other cities. Out here, I'm truly in the middle of nowhere. There's pockets of civilization surrounded by forest. Now, mind you, I did grow up in the boonies, but it has been a long time since I've lived in that environment. People are in no hurry to get to where their going and everything shuts down pretty early. I was on the bus the other day and people were chatting with the bus driver as if it was an everyday conversation. People smile and wave at me as I'm walking down the street. It's...an adjustment. A good adjustment, but one, nonetheless.
And, now for the big news part. I've been keeping this under my hat because it's been stuff in development and I didn't want to spill the beans until things were official. I, as of yesterday, am gainfully employed once again. It's part time (only 18 hours), but it's something. And it's Barnes and Noble, so I'll be surrounded by books once again. And, speaking of employment, I'm also currently in talks with a tech company in Seattle. I won't disclose that one unless things become official, but that one would be full time, with a solid base pay plus commission. If I get hired on with them, I'll have to let B&N know that I got a better offer. Which wouldn't be hard because I don't even have a start date with them. So there's a (very slim) chance that I will get the offer from said tech company before I even begin B&N. But, also, if things fall through with the tech company, I'm still employed. Which is a massive sigh of relief.
The other bit of big news is that I'm finally going to be getting serious with my writing. I helped a friend move last week and one of her new roommates is someone who blogs professionally. Recently had a post published by the Huffington Post. She gave me a couple websites that get bloggers paid and published. I've signed up for both and will be posting from them soon. I will, of course, keep this one up and updated as regular as possible. But there's a strong chance you'll see my name in print soon. Fingers crossed anyway.
The other thing is that, as of this writing, NaNoWriMo is 25 days away. This year, by hook or by crook, I'm doing it. No more excuses, and, more importantly, no more crazy work schedule to prevent me from writing. That has been the main hurdle in the past and that is one that is finally out of my way. I also have a phenomenal idea that has been bouncing around my skull for the past few days that I'm going to go with. The story actually takes place in two different time periods: the "present" (actually 2011) day, with an old man turning 90, and 70 years prior, when that same man enters World War II just after turning 20. The old man is someone who is very unassuming and is spending the winter of his life in a nursing home. No one takes him seriously and he's considered frail. Wasting away. He's also missing his right leg. The parallel story is how he goes to war and even serves under General Patton in North Africa, where he loses his leg and is sent home. And how he watches his close friends go to Normandy and never return.
It's bittersweet, don't get me wrong. The idea came to me as I was wandering around a grocery store and saw an old man wearing an old army coat. There were some kids who walked right by him and didn't even glance at him. The disinterested kid I'm going to have in the story is going to be his own great-grandson, who really does not want to go to the birthday celebration of his great-grandfather. When he gets there, the two of them spend some time alone together and the kid finally works up the courage to ask about the leg. By the end of the novel, the kid will have some massive respect for the great-grandfather. I'm not sure yet if the old man will live to the end (closing chapter being a funeral). I don't have all the details, but I'm going to flesh it out now so come November 1st, I can just write.
So, yeah, that's the latest. I'm still alive. I'm still kicking. I'm not in a glass half full or empty state of mind. There's liquid in it and that's all that matters at this point.
Sunday, September 27, 2015
Acceptance.
Not everything is meant to work out. Not every company that you work for, friendship that you start, or living situation that you enter is supposed to last. Nothing is guaranteed in life. Nothing. If we are lucky, truly lucky, these things that we imagine are permanent will last for a few decades. Some people remain at the same company for 50 years and have just as long marriages. But, in the end, death or other circumstances will eventually end that, too.
This isn't necessarily a bad thing. I have had to walk away from toxic jobs, relationships, and even friendships in an act of self-preseveration. I even moved halfway across the country when work completely dried up in the state where I spent most of my life. Doors close and open; and if we are truly fortunate, we know why. Because, let's be honest, sometimes even hindsight isn't 20/20.
It's been an interesting month for me. I spent the first half of it homeless. I won't go into details, but there was a lot of spontaneous couch surfing and last minute moving. Even where I'm at now isn't a permanent situation, but I accept it for what it is. Change has happened daily and often with little to no warning. Doors opening and closing with almost neck-breaking velocity. And through all the turmoil I have begun to accept that I don't necessarily have to know the "why" things are going the way they are and just accept that change and death are the two only fixtures in life. I'm not going to lie- I've been undergoing a very strong bout of depression all month. Self-doubt, immense anger, and bitterness have clouded my head for much of this month. I have been cutting myself off from people by choice because I know that I have not been the best to be around. There's been times when I just couldn't handle being around the human race, so I walked away. No warning, no explanation, just left. And I came back when I was in a better head space.
There has been some good things that have come from this. I know who my friends are now and just the extent of how much they love me. I'm probably the closest to my mom than I've been in a long time. It's one thing to suspect who has your back and a whole other thing when they follow through-even when, in the beginning, they found out through the word of mouth of others. My "safety net" (if you will) is strong. Much stronger than I ever would have expected. And the love and support I have received from them has brought me to tears more than once this month. I have felt so alone and they have undeniably proven that I'm not. Which was something I desperately needed to have affirmed. It is also looking like there's a strong change that I'm going to become a custodian for one of the local schools. Hardly glamorous, but the pay is almost $2 more an hour than I have ever made and the benefits are spectacular. It's also a Monday through Friday job. No more uncertainty for my schedule. Which will also give me the freedom to write-which is something I've waited years for.
If I get the custodian position, it means that I'm walking away from 15 years in the customer service and sales field. I'm walking away from the one solid profession I have held since my senior year in high school. That...has been a hard pill to swallow. I'm damn good at what I do, but I've reached a point where I'm pretty much un-hireable if I continue down this path. I don't have a college education or a tech background and I've reached a point where my experience is pretty much pointless because of this. So I'm walking away from a decade and a half of my life and accepting defeat. To know that, no matter where I apply, the positions I apply for, I'm "unworthy" of what their looking for in a candidate has been hard. This door is finally closing, and it may be closing for good.
On the flip-side, it also makes me realize that, if I were to continue to pursue, and receive, these sales positions, then I will never become published. The life of a salesman is constantly changing and schedules are in constant fluctuation. You are on the constant hunt for the bottom dollar. And, work-life balance? If you're lucky, you can land a job with semi-regular hours that will give you the illusion of this. If I become a custodian, I will finally gain that freedom in my life and still receive a nice paycheck to boot. I can finally, actually, become the writer (and author) I've always imagined I could become. I can finally buckle down and complete NaNoWriMo. I can finally see my name in print; which is something that hasn't happened since high school. I can finally create the worlds and breathe into life characters once again. And I can finally start doing what I was put on this Earth to do.
This month has been painful. This year has been full of chaos. I have been filled with uncertainty and doubt for most of this period. But no storm is permanent. Not all pain is perpetual. If there has been one thing that this month has re-taught me is that to accept that the illusion of control we assume we have, we really don't. Things change, people chance, circumstances change. Even pain is an agent of change. So, I end this post with a quote: "If you're going through hell, keep going." - Winston Churchill.
This isn't necessarily a bad thing. I have had to walk away from toxic jobs, relationships, and even friendships in an act of self-preseveration. I even moved halfway across the country when work completely dried up in the state where I spent most of my life. Doors close and open; and if we are truly fortunate, we know why. Because, let's be honest, sometimes even hindsight isn't 20/20.
It's been an interesting month for me. I spent the first half of it homeless. I won't go into details, but there was a lot of spontaneous couch surfing and last minute moving. Even where I'm at now isn't a permanent situation, but I accept it for what it is. Change has happened daily and often with little to no warning. Doors opening and closing with almost neck-breaking velocity. And through all the turmoil I have begun to accept that I don't necessarily have to know the "why" things are going the way they are and just accept that change and death are the two only fixtures in life. I'm not going to lie- I've been undergoing a very strong bout of depression all month. Self-doubt, immense anger, and bitterness have clouded my head for much of this month. I have been cutting myself off from people by choice because I know that I have not been the best to be around. There's been times when I just couldn't handle being around the human race, so I walked away. No warning, no explanation, just left. And I came back when I was in a better head space.
There has been some good things that have come from this. I know who my friends are now and just the extent of how much they love me. I'm probably the closest to my mom than I've been in a long time. It's one thing to suspect who has your back and a whole other thing when they follow through-even when, in the beginning, they found out through the word of mouth of others. My "safety net" (if you will) is strong. Much stronger than I ever would have expected. And the love and support I have received from them has brought me to tears more than once this month. I have felt so alone and they have undeniably proven that I'm not. Which was something I desperately needed to have affirmed. It is also looking like there's a strong change that I'm going to become a custodian for one of the local schools. Hardly glamorous, but the pay is almost $2 more an hour than I have ever made and the benefits are spectacular. It's also a Monday through Friday job. No more uncertainty for my schedule. Which will also give me the freedom to write-which is something I've waited years for.
If I get the custodian position, it means that I'm walking away from 15 years in the customer service and sales field. I'm walking away from the one solid profession I have held since my senior year in high school. That...has been a hard pill to swallow. I'm damn good at what I do, but I've reached a point where I'm pretty much un-hireable if I continue down this path. I don't have a college education or a tech background and I've reached a point where my experience is pretty much pointless because of this. So I'm walking away from a decade and a half of my life and accepting defeat. To know that, no matter where I apply, the positions I apply for, I'm "unworthy" of what their looking for in a candidate has been hard. This door is finally closing, and it may be closing for good.
On the flip-side, it also makes me realize that, if I were to continue to pursue, and receive, these sales positions, then I will never become published. The life of a salesman is constantly changing and schedules are in constant fluctuation. You are on the constant hunt for the bottom dollar. And, work-life balance? If you're lucky, you can land a job with semi-regular hours that will give you the illusion of this. If I become a custodian, I will finally gain that freedom in my life and still receive a nice paycheck to boot. I can finally, actually, become the writer (and author) I've always imagined I could become. I can finally buckle down and complete NaNoWriMo. I can finally see my name in print; which is something that hasn't happened since high school. I can finally create the worlds and breathe into life characters once again. And I can finally start doing what I was put on this Earth to do.
This month has been painful. This year has been full of chaos. I have been filled with uncertainty and doubt for most of this period. But no storm is permanent. Not all pain is perpetual. If there has been one thing that this month has re-taught me is that to accept that the illusion of control we assume we have, we really don't. Things change, people chance, circumstances change. Even pain is an agent of change. So, I end this post with a quote: "If you're going through hell, keep going." - Winston Churchill.
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
A Life Less Ordinary
I taught myself conversational Vietnamese one afternoon because I was bored. True story. I was working at a book store in North Bend and it was a pretty dead day. There was a a small Vietnamese phrase book that covered things like ordering food, asking where the bathroom was, etc. It had the Vietnamese words, then how to pronounce them, and the English translation. It took me about a half hour to completely master it. I also know a smattering of French, my German is rusty (but warms up with ample practice), and I should really get around to learning Spanish. That's the first thing you should know about me.
I've dabbled in quantum and astrophysics. When I was in high school, I deduced that actual time travel would never occur on Earth because of the constant gravitational pull slowing down the process. Using Newton's Three Laws of Motion, I figured out that one would have to be in deep space, void of any possible gravitational interruptions for it to be truly possible. But, humans will never achieve it and live, due the fact that it would require the force, speed, and subsequent heat of that of a nuclear explosion. Later on, in my early twenties, I discovered the book On The Shoulders of Giants by Stephen Hawking and it became my instant favorite book. It still is up there on my list. I highly recommend you check it out. It's a fascinating read. That's the second thing you should know about me.
I saw my dad die when I was 23. It still is the most traumatic and life changing event that has happened. He had an asthma attack and died before the paramedics even reached the house. It had only taken them 15 minutes to get there, but it was already too late. I learned that night just how quickly and suddenly life ends. And most of the time, without warning. I've battled crippling depression and insomnia ever since. That's the third thing you should know about me.
I took care of my grandparents (his parents) during my mid-twenties. I was working full time, made a stab at college, and lived and took care of them all at the same time. Grandma had full on dementia and Grandpa was a diabetic who took terrible care of himself. Towards the end of her life, he was the only one that she even recognized and she passed away in a care center five years after my dad died. Grandpa's heath took a understandable turn for the worst and he wound up getting thyroid cancer. He passed away five years after she did and I was in Texas at the time. One of my biggest regrets was that I was not there with him at the end. That's the fourth thing you should know about me.
I up and moved to Texas at the beginning of 2012. I had been pretty much unemployed all of 2011 and it wasn't looking like the economy in Washington was going to improve in the foreseeable future; so I just moved. Packed up and left. My sister lives down there, so I stayed with her for a bit. Within three months, I was working at a bank and building myself a nice little career. Adjusting, as best as I could, considering how different the two places are. But it wasn't long after I moved down there that I started feeling the pangs of home sickness. It gradually grew stronger and stronger until I was absolutely miserable being down there. Despite how improved my life had become, I missed home. And when my grandfather passed away and I was half a continent away, that was the final straw for me. So, at the end of 2013, I moved back. I do miss Texas and Washington isn't the home it used to be, but I wouldn't trade either experience for the world. That's the fifth thing you should know about me.
I'm a salesman by vocation. I've been doing it since immediately out of high school and I continue to do it to this day. I've sold everything from Cutco knives to financial services. From books to Proactiv. It works well with my jack-of-all-trades mentality. Also, as most salespeople are, I'm a very impatient person. More correctly, I'm patient when I need to be, but even that wanes if gone on too long. I'm also admittedly charismatic and have no problem talking to strangers. However, if you ever see me at a party, I'm always watching people first. Observing. Analyzing their every move and word. That's the sixth thing you should know about me.
I may be a salesman by vocation, but I was born a storyteller. In elementary school, I had a couple teachers tell me how impressed they were with my writing skills. In junior high, I wrote a story that got an award with the local Kuwanis. In high school, I was on the newspaper for two years. I've had three blogs (four, if you count the one on LinkedIn), a Twitter account with a few celebrity followers, and a couple dozen (at least) poems. But the real goal is to be a novelist. That's always been my dream. That's the seventh thing you should know about me.
There's other facts, like that I'm left-handed, travel as frequently as possible, enjoy history immensely, love old movies (some of the best movies ever made were in black and white), love classical music, love books, etc. But, those things and more are things that I would much rather you learn as you get to know me. All this post was was a small window into my world.
I've dabbled in quantum and astrophysics. When I was in high school, I deduced that actual time travel would never occur on Earth because of the constant gravitational pull slowing down the process. Using Newton's Three Laws of Motion, I figured out that one would have to be in deep space, void of any possible gravitational interruptions for it to be truly possible. But, humans will never achieve it and live, due the fact that it would require the force, speed, and subsequent heat of that of a nuclear explosion. Later on, in my early twenties, I discovered the book On The Shoulders of Giants by Stephen Hawking and it became my instant favorite book. It still is up there on my list. I highly recommend you check it out. It's a fascinating read. That's the second thing you should know about me.
I saw my dad die when I was 23. It still is the most traumatic and life changing event that has happened. He had an asthma attack and died before the paramedics even reached the house. It had only taken them 15 minutes to get there, but it was already too late. I learned that night just how quickly and suddenly life ends. And most of the time, without warning. I've battled crippling depression and insomnia ever since. That's the third thing you should know about me.
I took care of my grandparents (his parents) during my mid-twenties. I was working full time, made a stab at college, and lived and took care of them all at the same time. Grandma had full on dementia and Grandpa was a diabetic who took terrible care of himself. Towards the end of her life, he was the only one that she even recognized and she passed away in a care center five years after my dad died. Grandpa's heath took a understandable turn for the worst and he wound up getting thyroid cancer. He passed away five years after she did and I was in Texas at the time. One of my biggest regrets was that I was not there with him at the end. That's the fourth thing you should know about me.
I up and moved to Texas at the beginning of 2012. I had been pretty much unemployed all of 2011 and it wasn't looking like the economy in Washington was going to improve in the foreseeable future; so I just moved. Packed up and left. My sister lives down there, so I stayed with her for a bit. Within three months, I was working at a bank and building myself a nice little career. Adjusting, as best as I could, considering how different the two places are. But it wasn't long after I moved down there that I started feeling the pangs of home sickness. It gradually grew stronger and stronger until I was absolutely miserable being down there. Despite how improved my life had become, I missed home. And when my grandfather passed away and I was half a continent away, that was the final straw for me. So, at the end of 2013, I moved back. I do miss Texas and Washington isn't the home it used to be, but I wouldn't trade either experience for the world. That's the fifth thing you should know about me.
I'm a salesman by vocation. I've been doing it since immediately out of high school and I continue to do it to this day. I've sold everything from Cutco knives to financial services. From books to Proactiv. It works well with my jack-of-all-trades mentality. Also, as most salespeople are, I'm a very impatient person. More correctly, I'm patient when I need to be, but even that wanes if gone on too long. I'm also admittedly charismatic and have no problem talking to strangers. However, if you ever see me at a party, I'm always watching people first. Observing. Analyzing their every move and word. That's the sixth thing you should know about me.
I may be a salesman by vocation, but I was born a storyteller. In elementary school, I had a couple teachers tell me how impressed they were with my writing skills. In junior high, I wrote a story that got an award with the local Kuwanis. In high school, I was on the newspaper for two years. I've had three blogs (four, if you count the one on LinkedIn), a Twitter account with a few celebrity followers, and a couple dozen (at least) poems. But the real goal is to be a novelist. That's always been my dream. That's the seventh thing you should know about me.
There's other facts, like that I'm left-handed, travel as frequently as possible, enjoy history immensely, love old movies (some of the best movies ever made were in black and white), love classical music, love books, etc. But, those things and more are things that I would much rather you learn as you get to know me. All this post was was a small window into my world.
Flash Fiction Experiment #1
So of the best writers out there all have the same advice when it comes to writing: Just do it. Hemingway took it a step further and said "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." Which leads me to this very moment: an experiment. They say that a 1,000 monkeys could bang out the works of Shakespeare, given enough time. This experiment is going to be a bit shorter than that. Just me, a whole lot of insomnia induced sleep exhaustion, some random music (I think I'll go with some chillstep to give it a cool vibe), and zero clue as to what I'm about to write. So, without further ado, here goes:
Bret Sanders sat at the bar, watching the room. Couples were laughing, one guy was trying way too hard to impressed the clearly uninterested blind date he had found on the Internet the previous night, and there was a girl in the corner reading the latest John Grisham novel and sipping on a dirty martini. Do people still drink those? he pondered as he continued to trace the room with a growing bit of uneasiness in his gut.
His contact was late. His contact was never late and tonight he was precisely five minutes and thirty-seven seconds late. The second hand on his Rolex ever kept ticking forward, despite its owner's growing annoyance and apprehension. He normally did these jobs sober, but if his contact was going to continue to delay him, he may have to buckle and at least order a beer. After all, the bartender was already cocking an eyebrow at him for sipping on his ice water. No need to draw any attention to himself if he didn't have to. Nothing good could ever come from being remembered.
A shrill, tinny pseudo-orchestra erupted next to him and the woman sitting next to him quickly snapped up her phone, making that annoying tone cease. The bartender shot her a look and he took the brief opportunity to examine the beers on tap. Coor's. Budweiser. Sam Adams. All standard fare. His eyes found Guinness and he gestured to the bartender for a pint. The man grunted and filled his order. That's okay. I"m not here to make friends. The sooner she gets here, the sooner I can get out of this sorry excuse for a watering hole.
His burner cell buzzed once again his hip. He flipped it open and the text message contained one word: Made. Suddenly the temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees and his eyes scoured each face and body movement. No red flags. He turned to the bartender and shot him a look. He returned it with utmost surprise, and, before he could respond further, a bullet took a subsonic path from one temple through the other. The woman with the rancid ringtone screamed as he dropped to the floor. She almost immediately joined him, with a matching mortal wound where her right eye should have been. He glanced over and saw Book Girl was not where she was sitting. Even amiss the now chaos of people fleeing for their lives, he could see she was not among them.
Knowing if he remained there a second longer, he would also wind up a chalk outline, he rolled out from his position and under the nearest table. Glass shattered above him from a high powered projectile. He reached behind his back and dislodged the 9mm that he had taped to his back earlier that night. The shooter, whoever it was, had to be in the room, somewhere. And since the guy took out two innocents almost immediately, he must be close. Before he had a chance to peek out and assess the situation, there was more gunfire, but this time to is right.
Shots were now being exchanged above his head. If he didn't act now, he would only have himself to blame for his own demise. He kicked out the chair in front of him and it struck a running target. Whoever it was collapsed after taking two rounds from two different shooters. He aimed his Glock at the now revealed shooter at the far end of bar. His first shot hit the bar and the second hit his target in the gut. He fired off a third and fourth, which struck his target in the chest, emitting a stray of red.
A hand above him knocked the table out from above him and he saw Book Girl pointing an identical Glock at him. "Don't shoot! You've been made!"
"Who are you?!" He shouted at her, still pointing his pistol at her chest.
"I'm the one who just saved your ass. Go take a look at who you just shot. That was your contact. You've been made, and if you don't get out now, you'll have the same fate as your bartender friend."
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