Sunday, October 7, 2012

Blogspiration 20: When Words Redefine You


Blogspiration is a weekly meme hosted by GrowingUp YA& Saz101. The meme was created to help spark inspiration among bloggers, readers & writers alike. An inspirational quote/picture/video is posted weekly, on the day of the author's choosing, so that it may inspire creativity, conversation & just a little SOMETHING.


I should start by apologizing for the extra long post this week.  That's what happens when you feel super inspired to write something.  Some topics simply need to be addressed.

When I saw the video below earlier this week, I immediately knew what the subject of my Blogspiration had to be. There was no question in my mind that I needed to address this issue using my own unique perspective.  However, I also recommend you read this blog post Ron Kemp wrote about why he thinks the bullying issue is persisting the way it is.  I think he makes some good points that are worth our consideration.



I admire Jennifer Livingston (the news anchor from the video) for her eloquence and professionalism in addressing this issue.  I must say that the email this man sent to her was more politely worded than most personal insults I've seen.  Some have defended the email for that reason, saying that it was a piece of constructive criticism that addresses a serious problem in this nation: obesity. And yes, I won't lie.  Health issues like obesity are an issue, and we need to educate ourselves on how to be healthy.  But being healthy isn't all about what size jeans we wear.  In writing this email, the man also failed to realize that health isn't only about how well your body functions.  Mental health is just as important to who we are and how we live our lives.  When people erode our self-confidence, that has a huge impact on our overall well-being.  We shouldn't let ourselves be defined by bullies, but judgment can come from all directions, and it can be difficult to fend off all the verbal assaults.  Remember, bullying is also a problem in this country, just as much as health issues are.  So many young people take their lives because they see no way out.  In sending his email, this man might have actually felt he was doing a public service, but even if he did, he ran afoul of another issue in the process.

October is national anti-bullying month.  Bullying is a huge problem in this country.  There's one thing I've noticed too.  People don't always grow out of it. In the midst of an impending presidential election, I see people on both sides railing on each other, slinging every hurtful name they can think of.  Political disagreement seems to be a good enough reason to tear your fellow man apart. It's like all these so-called adults are on the playground again, screaming because they want everything to be their way.  And the issue of bullying has come up numerous times in this political climate, with some arguing it's a huge problem, and others insisting that it's no big deal.  

I know the old adage "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."  I think a lot of people believe that only physical violence causes scars, but nothing can be further from the truth.  That's why this video meant so much to me.  This woman handled the situation beautifully, and in so doing, she proved to me that she is indeed a great role model for young viewers.  So many people don't address the people around them with a fraction of the poise and confidence that she does.  Why shouldn't such an intelligent woman be considered a good role model?



This next video shows Meghan Tonjes, another young woman who responds to being called fat.  I admire her spunk.  Her speech quite direct and to the point. The language isn't as clean since this is an internet video and not taken from a news broadcast, but I think it's worth a watch.  My favorite line from this video has to be this: "Why does it hurt you if I don't hate myself?"  Thank you, Meghan, for your words.

These responses from two proud and beautiful women are the way we should all respond to those who would try to tear us down.  Unfortunately, that isn't always the case.  Personal circumstances vary, and we don't honestly know how long is took them to get to a place in their lives where they can feel so confident in themselves.


Background Image courtesy of luigi diamanti @ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

It's true that the words of bullies can only redefine you if you let them, but I think too many people use this as an excuse to say hurtful things about whomever they want.  It's a way of dodging personal responsibility.  The truth of the matter is that words have tremendous power, especially when one's own sense of self has been systematically eroded.

A lot of the talk around bullying as of late has come down to freedom of speech and freedom of religion.  People say that they don't want those all important rights to be stifled.  Yes, these are important rights to that should be protected, but how do you balance those rights with the rights of the bullied?  I'll offer my take on this.  Whether you agree or disagree with what I have to say, this is an important conversation to have.

There are plenty of popular reasons to gate people these days.  When people take issue with the Muslim kid in class for his beliefs, it bothers me, though I won't try to say those people should not be allowed to speak at all about their feelings.  When I hear politicians say that kids should have a right to tell the gay kid in class that they are living a sinful life, I can both agree and disagree. Personally, I don't agree that being gay is sinful, but I know plenty of people genuinely do.  I respect your right to have an opinion and your right to voice it. Unfortunately, most of the taunts I've heard in my life have nothing to do with such sincerely held religious beliefs.  That tends to be the excuse people fall back on to justify behavior that is anything but holy.  Sending threatening messages on Facebook, and getting your group of friends together to shout slurs at someone, is not an exercise of religious freedom.  It's being a jerk.  Much like calling someone fat isn't typically an attempt to motivate them.  Let's be honest. People typically say it to be mean.

Using what I've learned over the years, I think I can answer Meghan's question: "Why does it hurt you if I don't hate myself?"  The answer isn't even all that complicated, though it's a question that all would-be bullies should ask themselves before they make the choice to demean others. In my experience, bullying stems mostly from personal insecurity.  By targeting others and making them feel small, they mask their own feelings of self-doubt.  And the effect is even stronger when the bully can recruit others to join in.  The bullied person is isolated from the rest, and the bully gains a sense of belonging.

Freedom of speech is so important, as I've said many times, but mutual respect is also crucial.  If we have the freedom to speak, we also have a corresponding responsibility for the words we put out there.  This does not mean we sacrifice our opinions.  It means that we look not just at our own interests, but the interests of others as well.  Everyone deserves to have a chance at living a happy life, regardless of how that life may differ from your own.

Just because you have the right to say something, that doesn't make it right for you to say it.

Now, none of us can avoid every little offense our words may trigger, nor should we.  It's impossible and exhausting.  We should simply remember how much it can hurt to be targeted in an aggressive way.  There are ways to express our feelings in a civilized and respectful way.  Having the freedom to speak doesn't mean we need to club the people we don't like over the head with our words.

Now, here's where I get real about myself.  I have a confession to make.  We all have those things that we bottle up inside, and if we're not careful, they can eat away at us.  It's safe to say that I was bullied as a child.  Much as I've tried to deny it, the emotional scars are still there.  I often find myself questioning whether I'm good enough.  I think I got involved in the Blogspiration meme just as much for self-inspiration as anyone else's.  Since I was little, there were always people telling me that I'm not good enough.

Growing up in a small town, there was no way to escape the reputation.  I hate to admit this, but as much as I loved my mother, and still do even though she's gone now, she had her problems.  Everyone I went to school with knew she was an alcoholic.  In fact, from elementary school all the way through high school, people made it a point to remind me of that fact.  As if I could have forgotten. Things got so bad for me that I felt like I had nowhere to go.  My mom's drinking greeted me at night when I came home from school, and the school day left me to dodge verbal assault after verbal assault.  I even got physically assaulted a couple of times.  That's why I kept my writing notebook with me everywhere I went.  It was my portable fantasy world. Whenever I needed a place to escape, all I had to do was open that notebook and create that new world.  The bullying helped shape who I am in positive ways. Yet, the demons that erode my self-confidence held on for the ride.  Even now, I find myself struggling with them.

Now, I can forgive my mom for her mistakes, because I know that she meant well.  Though she wasn't perfect, she gave me a lot of good things, like my sense of humor.  I choose to honor the good above the bad, because that's what makes me stronger.

I can even forgive my bullies, because I understand how easy it was for them to fall into that trap.  I even lashed out at people in a similar way, because I didn't want to be alone anymore.  So, I acknowledge the ways the bullying shaped me, and I want to toss out the bad effects that came from that too.  The problem is, it's easier said than done.

In writing this blog entry, I am attempting to make that choice now.  The doubts pull on me, threatening to hold me back from my dreams.  I am declaring here that I don't want to let them.  In sharing this, I want to tell those demons that they don't have any power over me.  I also want to share this with anyone who has been or is being bullied.  I know it hurts, and it can be devastating to you.

Bullying can even destroy your whole life if you hang on to it.  Even years after the bullies have disappeared from your life, the words remain.  Just remember, horrible as those words are, the power is ultimately in your hands.  No matter how hard it may be, you need to make the choice.  You can either let the words continue to define you, or you can take ownership over your life.  Let me stress this.  It's YOUR life, and you are worth the effort to live it well.

Background Image courtesy of Phaitoon @ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Friday, October 5, 2012

Memoirs From the End of the World: Entry #5



I present to you the next installment in my serialized story.  For those of you who've missed any of the prior installments, I've added the links directly below.


Memoirs From the End of the World
Entry #5

Alyx rushed up the wooden stairs as if the dangerous thing were behind him, not waiting for him beyond the old, loosely hung door.  And as counterintuitive as it seemed, RC rushed up just as fast.  When her companion carelessly flung open the door, forcing her to take a small step backward to avoid being smacked, it crashed into the banister.  If the unknown guest hadn’t heard the pounding of their feet, they certainly heard that.

RC watched him disappear through the doorway, but she hesitated on the top step.  Once she went through, anything could happen.  Remember your rules! she silently chastised.  You know damn well this is a stupid move on your part.

In spite of that, RC grasped the door frame and propelled herself through.  If she went in fast, she might have the momentum to get out fast if it all went bad.

When she emerged into the kitchen, it took a long moment for the scene to make any sort of sense.  Alyx stood by the stove, staring in horror at a human figure that loomed mere feet away.  She couldn’t distinguish much about this person at first glance, other than general size.  That alone would have been intimidating, too.  The stranger stood several inches taller than Alyx, and the shoulders were broad enough to block off any doorway.  The blood and dirt covering them erased all other features she might have been able to latch on to.  Torn clothing exposed patches of pale skin that somehow escaped the bloodbath.

“Ollie?”  Alyx’s voice trembled slightly.  “Is that you?”

Those words seemed to break through the odd trance that had fallen over them all.  “I thought I’d never see you again.”  This guy’s voice was deep, though the relief leaked into his words, lightening them significantly.

“What happened to you?” Alyx demanded.

This question made Ollie jump, as if something clicked in his mind.  He nervously looked behind him.  “A patrol caught me, beat me when I tried to get away, but I managed to run.  They shot me with a tracker, and they’ve been after me ever since.  I can’t get it out.  I don’t know how long it’ll be before they catch up.”

RC’s ears perked up the moment she heard the word “tracker.”  Once hit with the rather monstrous dart, a small chip burrowed under the skin and transmitted data back to the patrol that shot it.  It served a double purpose: it helped them to track down rogues, and it instilled a sense of futility.  Once tagged, most didn’t bother to run.  Luckily for Ollie, he had a free brother willing to look after him.  Running made sense in his case.

She felt her stomach tighten into a lead ball inside her.  Now that Ollie was red hot with a tracker, it wasn’t safe to be on the same city block as him, let alone the same room.  You should just run for it, she told herself.  This isn’t a safe place for you anymore.  These people are a liability.

Yet, her feet remained where they were.  She watched as Alyx, obviously uncaring about the messy state of his sibling, moved to give him a brief hug.  “It’s okay,” he said with an inexplicable air of calm.  “We’ll figure this out.”

Then Ollie turned to face RC, and she got her first glimpse of his green eyes as they surveyed her.  “Who’s that?”

“Alyx saved me from a group of bots,” RC replied.  The moment she said it, she understood why her feet weren’t carrying her away from the scene.  She owed Alyx a debt, and leaving now would keep that debt hanging over her head.  Once she repaid it, she could leave without guilt.  She quickly declared a new rule in her head. 

Rule #10: Exchange favors when possible.  Though you shouldn’t form close friendships, you never know when it may be useful to have a friendly acquaintance to call on for another favor.

RC looked to Alyx.  “If you keep an eye out for patrols, I can work on getting the tracker out of him.  You’re the only one of us who can stall them if it comes to that.”

Alyx nodded.  “We can do this,” he declared before he took off for the front door.

Within minutes, RC had searched the bathroom cabinets and uncovered a few things she would need.  A mostly empty bottle of peroxide, a couple of stray gauze pads, and half a roll of medical tape.  The aliens provided for these needs as an incentive to get people to come without a fight.  Alyx and Ollie’s parents must have moved willingly, and the boys must have packed lightly when they ran.

Soon Ollie, shirtless and weary, leaned over the back of a kitchen chair.  RC had already removed the dart from the middle of his back.  It was no wonder he couldn’t deal with it on his own.  The chip would be somewhere near the point of entry.

Somehow she’d managed to instinctively grab Romero and her backpack before flying after Alyx.  That alone amazed her.  It also assured her that, if she truly was programmed for survival, her decision to stick with the boys through this wouldn’t come back to bite her.

She pulled an old lighter from the bag.  Rule #11: Always keep fire at your fingertips.

She used the flame to sterilize the blade of a small kitchen knife.  While it was still hot, she palpated the skin around the dart.

“I’ve wanted to have a girl touch me for awhile,” Ollie said conversationally.  “I was hoping it would be under different circumstances.”

RC ignored that.  The last thing she wanted was for anyone to make a pass at her.  She concentrated on the task instead.  Within moments, she located a hard little ball beneath the soft, warm skin.

Just as she positioned the knife to make her cut, Alyx burst into the room.  “The patrol’s coming.”


Go to Entry #6

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Express Yourself: Naming

Okay guys, I know I don't normally post on Thursdays, but I'm in the midst of revising my blogging schedule.  I plan to reveal my new schedule on Monday. As it is, since I'm changing things up some, I figured there was no harm in posting on an odd day.  For those who may be curious, I'm not changing things drastically by any means.  I'm just adjusting for memes that I've gotten involved with.

One of those new memes is the inspiration for today's post.  Maybe I was simply captivated by the badge because it reminded me of Wordle.  Or maybe I thought it sounded like a good way to get involved in something new.  Either way, here I am!


Thanks to Jackie @ Bouquet of Books and Dani @ Entertaining Interests for starting this.  Seriously guys, how do you come up with so many great ideas?  It baffles me.  I'm slightly jealous of your collective genius, but not too jealous to jump into the fun!

This is a weekly meme, and a monthly schedule of topics will be posted.  This week's topic piqued my interest immediately.  The task is to pick a name from my current WIP, and to then describe my process of acquiring it.

Naming has always been an important process for me.  The name you choose for a character can say a lot about them.  In the real world, names don't always mesh with someone's personality, though a bold name that stands out can certainly influence someone a lot.  However, in the realm of fiction where there's a crazy writer behind the wheel, a carefully chosen name can say everything about someone.

I chose the serial that I've been writing for my Friday posts.  It's called Memoirs From the End of the World.  One character in that story is named Alyx.  He's able to survive in a world where reproduction is forced upon people by alien overlords because he is naturally sterile.  He is therefore useless to the overlords that seek to control everyone else.

Just to be clear, the rest of what I'm about to say hasn't been addressed in my story yet, so if any of you have been reading it and don't want to risk reading any spoilers about the character, then you shouldn't read past this point.  However, I personally don't think I'm giving away anything too crucial to the overall story.

Though Alyx identifies as male, at birth it was obvious that his reproductive system hadn't fully developed inside or outside.  Growing up, he worried that no girl would be able to understand his condition or would be willing to deal with it. After all, he isn't what many would consider a "real man" given his condition. That's why I gave him a name that could be used either as male or female.  That is also the reason I used the unusual spelling.  Given that the sexes are defined by the chromosomal pairings of XX and XY, I couldn't resist the opportunity to play off of that.  Therefore, as Alyx identifies as male but doesn't possess the typical physical attributes that most males have, the X and the Y in his name are in reverse order to show that difference.

Fortunately for him, when the alien overlords came and realized this his infertility couldn't be easily rectified by noninvasive means, they decided it would be a waste of resources to try to do anything with him.  That which isolated him, making him the subject of ridicule among his peers, became an asset the day of the invasion.

That's something I like to do in my stories.  I enjoy taking characters who have been marginalized or simply feel isolated and putting them in a situation where their difference becomes an advantage.


Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Insecure Writer's Support Group: October 2012


How in the world is it already time for another Insecure Writer's Support Group meeting?  It doesn't seem possible that another month has already flown past. Yet, I doubt my calendar is deliberately lying to me, so I will accept it as fact for the time being and submit my insecurity for scrutiny.

Of course, I should briefly offer my thanks to Ninja Captain Alex J. Cavanaugh for creating this group.  It's a safe space for us to vent about our frustrations and fears.  That's an outlet we all need from time to time.

My insecurity this month stems from my age.  My birthday is coming up in a little over a week.  Now, many of you may laugh when I tell you that I'm turning 27 and feeling anxious about it.  Let me assure you, it isn't the actual number that concerns me.  I like my dad's attitude about birthdays.  No matter how large the number of candles on your birthday cake, you're doing pretty good if you're still on this side of the grass.  A birthday is a celebration that you're still alive and kicking.

Maybe it's a glass half empty vs. half full kind of thing.  If you think of each passing year as bringing you closer to death, then yes, birthdays are going to be a real drag after a certain point.  However, if you view them instead as a "Hey, somehow I survived another year.  Woohoo!" sort of thing, it's not half bad.

Okay.  That's enough of that ramble.  On to the actual point I'm trying to make. With my birthday coming up, I've been thinking of where I thought I'd be at this point in my life.  I've dreamed of being a writer my whole life.  So now that I'm about to add another year to my official age, I'm thinking about what I have and have not accomplished as a writer.  I won't lie.  I haven't done as much as I'd like. Plenty of writers didn't get their first books published until later on in life, but I've been working toward this goal since I was 6.  That's nearly 21 years.  I always figured I'd be further along in my writing career by now.  That doesn't mean I won't, but I think we all question ourselves and the pace at which we're moving along.  I'm no different.  

I have plenty of ambition and ideas, but I never feel fully confident in my work. My lack of publication successes reinforces my doubts from time to time.  I question my intuition when it comes to my writing choices.  I never feel as if my work is good enough to show people, though I force myself to share it anyway.  I only hope that by forcing myself to risk the possible criticism and rejection, I can eventually end up where I want to be.

I'll try not to put too much pressure on myself.  I'll just try to get the work done, and we'll see what happens from there.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

A Doctor Who Spoof


For those of you who successfully survived another Monday, here's a little fun to get you through the rest of the week.

How many of you out there love Doctor Who?  I know I sure do.  Here is the first video in a new web series that has fun with the Doctor Who universe.  I watch every spoof of Doctor Who that I can, because it's all in good fun!

Enjoy!

Monday, October 1, 2012

Blogspiration 19: Let Me Live My Life



Blogspiration is a weekly meme hosted by GrowingUp YA& Saz101. The meme was created to help spark inspiration among bloggers, readers & writers alike. An inspirational quote/picture/video is posted weekly, on the day of the author's choosing, so that it may inspire creativity, conversation & just a little SOMETHING.


It seems there are always people who pretend to be experts on how other people should live.  Some simply cannot feel good about themselves without judging the others around them as deficient.  Then there are those who genuinely mean well when they offer advice.  Regardless of intent, people put pressure on us to conform to their idea of who we should be.  That's why this quote is so valuable to me.

Background Image courtesy of  FreeDigitalPhotos.net
We need to learn how to live our lives the way we want.  People may tell us we're failures, or judge us as bad people based on religious affiliation (or lack thereof). People may say we should be with someone else, or they may say we're in the wrong career.  The truth of the matter is, YOU are the one who knows what's right for you.  You only have one life to live, and you are the one who has to live with the consequences of each action you take, whether they be good or bad.

Life is like any book.  It has a beginning, middle, and end.  You may have no control over your beginnings, but your choices have plenty of influence over the rest of the story.  You are the author of your own life, so write it well.  If you write it well enough, the end won't be a tragic one.

My Early Birthday Gift


Instead of talking about my writing progress this week, I wanted to talk about some of the things related to writing that I find interesting.  I am absolutely abnormal when compared to most of the women I know.  Many women get excited about going shopping for clothes, shoes, make up, and jewelry.  I do not. Okay, I do like shopping for jewelry.  It sparkles!  How can I help it?

Anyway, I'm the type of girl who could be perfectly happy going to a Staples, or any other office supply store, on a date night.  And with my husband, it's more likely we'll do that than go to a coffee shop (which I would also love to do on a date, by the way).  I love shopping for office supplies!  I like looking at sheer variety of pens and pencils, and I enjoy comparing binders.  I keep a lot of hard copies of my stories on hand, and I need somewhere to keep them, right?  A person's choice of binder is critical.  Will it hold up to the strain of me stuffing it far past capacity with hand-scribbled notes about planned revisions?  Will the metal rings break and tear at the holes that I carefully created with my 3-hole-punch? Will I reach epic levels of frustration as the pages fall half out of the binder?

Now, on to the point of this post.  Contrary to appearances, I didn't intend to write about office supplies when I sat down to write this.  I merely meant to tell you all a little about me so that, when you see what my husband bought me for my birthday, you'll understand that it's a great gift for me.

My very own portable electric typewriter!
Jamon found a Smith Corona Two-Fifty XKE portable electric typewriter at a garage sale.  Even though it's my birthday present, he gave it to me the day he bought it even though my birthday isn't until October 11th.  Oh well.  I guess he was too excited to wait until then.  That, and it's difficult to hide something as large as this.  It may technically be portable, but it's far too heavy for me to carry around.  If modern day laptops were this hefty, you wouldn't see them in every coffee shop in the country.

We're ready to work!
I'm not going to use it to write novels.  In fact, I probably won't do more than play around with it from time to time.  I just like the fact that I have it.  It's fun to look at, it makes a good conversation piece.  If I ever do manage to get a writing room of my own in the house, I might display it.  For me, it's a fun piece of history.  I know I've seen far older typewriters, one of them belonging to my dad while I was growing up, but it's neat to look at how much typing has changed over time.

This typewriter came with a receipt.  I won't post a picture of it here since the name and address of the person who made the purchase is clearly visible.  I don't want to risk violating anyone's privacy here.  Still, some of the details I got from it are worth sharing.  I can tell you the purchase date is January 24, 1985.  I was born in 1985.  This sale was made right around the time I would have been conceived.  Now that's a weird thought.

I think my muse Pleiades lives in things like this.  I look at them, and I feel renewed energy about writing.  I'm reminded of why I love writing so much. When I saw this typewriter for the first time, I just wanted to sit down and get down to business.  Of course, I'd never get anywhere with this piece of equipment.  I make too many typos for that.  The delete key on my laptop is a necessity for me, and for most others I know.  It certainly reminds me of why secretaries decades ago were far underpaid for their work.  Typing on an old typewriter was a serious skill.