Serendipity and the Christmas Eve Panic Attack

It's Christmas afternoon, so . . . Merry Christmas!  I grew up under several religious influences--and even hated Christmas at one point in my life--so if you don't celebrate Christmas, please accept this as hope that you're having a nice day, and be forewarned that this is a personal, faith-based post.

I don't discuss my spirituality much.  I love to talk about theology, and will, often.  If you know me or have read my books, you know (or can tell) that the subject fascinates me.  I don't treat religion as mythology, but I'll often intertwine the two in discussion and in writing.

Even as a kid, I've always felt like God has me in His hands.  Religion has never mattered in that regard.  Whether I went to the Kingdom Hall, a church, or was casting spells under the full moon, I never wavered from that trust and prayed for God to carry me when I couldn't carry myself.  Well, maybe I can't say never.  I mean, we all waver at some point in our lives.  But, if I did, I found my way back. 

Yesterday, during a panic attack, I realized that I lost my way a bit somewhere.

A lot's been changing and stressing my life recently.  My anxiety used to be constant.  It nearly kept me housebound.  But acute panic attacks were rare.  Last year, a major stressor was relieved.  My anxiety was still there, but I finally had a baseline.  I'd have a few attacks on occasion or generalized anxiety, but nothing like the major panic attacks I've had in the past few weeks.

I don't really know what happens.  Yesterday, we went to church and I started feeling not so great when I saw how many people were there, all the people directing traffic, the fact that they needed people to direct traffic . . . and then my right leg stopped working as I tried to walk into the front vestibule and I stumbled.  No one tried to help.  I caught myself on my cane and got my balance.  I know it's beyond my control, but I felt stupid and was embarrassed.  So, still having some trouble, I forced myself to keep moving forward, relying on the cane more to make up for my leg.

Tim had gotten a bit ahead of me.  Just as I was about to catch up, I planted the cane and was in mid-step with the right leg (my bad MS leg) when a guy shouted a greeting from the right to a woman on the left and they approach each other right in the space I was about to enter and cut me off.  That's when I lost it.  I stumbled again because I had to stop suddenly and that really messes with me physically.  Neither even acknowledged I was there or that I was about to fall.  I again righted myself, forced myself to keep moving, and stepped around the woman and then . . . all I could see was Tim being swallowed by a crowd of people closing in and a room of windows shining like a beacon.

Next thing I know, I'm in that room, shedding my coat, shaking and on the verge of hysterical tears, holding my breath to keep a chest heaving sob from escaping.  Tim didn't know what was happening and it's really hard, in the moment, to explain something that's just happening.  But - I constantly need to evaluate myself and my situations for my doctors.  I'm used to evaluating things in the moment and being aware of what is happening to my body.  Somehow, while freaking out, I managed to explain, and as the tears spilled over, I sucked down a big breath and a kid came into the room.  I turned away and tucked my face down.  A woman walked in, saw me, and walked out.  The kid lingered.  I remember digging for my pills, pausing to remember which one to take, and taking one.  And then I remember standing there, willing myself to go into the sanctuary - into a room packed full of people and noise.  I couldn't.  I couldn't do it.

I tried.  A few times.  The first time, I knew the medicine was working yet and I barely made it into the hall.  I told Tim to go on in and I returned to the bright room, where I sat by the windows and stared up at the open blue sky and the naked the trees to ignore the parking lots full of cars below.  A bit later, I went into the sanctuary.  I wasn't entirely ok, so I kind of remember searching the room for Tim and his parents, and the ushers asking if I needed help finding a seat.  I shook my head in a daze and stared at the backs of all these heads.  Everyone looked the same.  A guy on stage was talking about finding God and I decided to find a seat.  I sat.  I got comfortable.  I thought, "I can do this."

Something happened.  Everyone was standing.  Everyone started recited something. I couldn't do it.  I don't know how, but I was in the hallway in a chair and then I was talking with an old friend from work.  And then I moved to the lobby - with large windows - and I stared at the carpet.

The men across from me were talking about another man's journey to finding the Holy Spirit.  It caught my attention and I listened to them for a bit.  I don't think I've ever heard guys talk so earnestly like that.  It got me thinking about my journey.  And that's how I realized that my relationship with God had changed - or, at least, how I viewed it. 

As far as the panic attack goes, the meds only took the edge off.  I had to take another one later, and then some additional meds when we got home to help with pain and muscle cramps.  Soon, Tim and his dad came out to check on me.  I tried to go in one more time, but couldn't, and then people began arriving for the next service so I had to move.  I went down a quiet hall, more people and more noise encroached, so I moved farther down until I was outside. 

All the trees were filled with crows.  They were cawing so loudly that their cries echoed off the buildings, off the air itself, and built into a cacophony that rose and fell like a discordant orchestra.  I recorded it.  It was beautiful.  I buttoned my coat and stood there, watching them - hundreds or thousands of these gorgeous black birds.  They brought me back to peace, to my center.  I smiled.  I was calm.  I was with the birds and the trees, the blue sky and cold winter air.  No people.  No cars.  No walls.  No panic.

For five minutes or so. 

I'm not one to stand outside in the cold.  But that was an amazing moment.  I felt like God had sent it to me.  I love crows.  They are smart and lovely.  They are heavy but glide effortlessly  They always capture my attention.  I want to take pictures of every one I see.  There's one on the photograph I used for the family tree in my series.

In the between time, however, while I was still in the lobby, staring at the carpet, I was pondering my relationship with God.  Even then, I knew He had me in His hands, and I repeated that in my head, when my pulse started to race again (and again . . . and again).  I thought about my books.  And that's where the shift had entered.  I use a Christian-based mythology in my Children of the Morning Star series, and my biggest worry has been how readers will react to it.  I didn't want to sound preachy or disrespectful.  I've had readers who love it, some who hate it, and others who simply see it as part of the story.

But there are other references in the book that only certain people will pick up.  I use the symbolism of circles, nature, and other influences of Wiccan or Gnostic origin, and ancient mythologies.  The circles in the forest, the grand silver maple, the colors, the numbers, the dates - there's so much to it that spirituality, in general, flows through the books. 

I've gotten so lost in working on them, marketing them, making connections, planning, etc, etc, etc, that I didn't realize I was worrying more and more about the Christian element turning people away.  So I took a moment yesterday for clarity.  Why did I see that as a bad thing?  Because I didn't want people thinking it was an in-your-face religious book.  It's not.  And I know why that bothers me.  Coming from such a diverse religious background, I'm not fond of that approach in Christianity.  But that shouldn't impact my relationship with God.  And I shouldn't be ashamed of the mythology I created for my fictional story or my relationship with God.  If it turns readers off, then it's the same as me not reading something I don't like.  It's that's simple.  Strip away everything but the issue and it comes down to the fact that reading is subjective.  Not everyone's going to love everything.

So I won't worry about that anymore.  Even most of the folks that weren't fond of my mythos still loved the story enough to finish the book.  I'm biased, I know:  it's a good story.  BUT - not everyone is going to like it.  Not everyone will finish it.  I know that for a fact.  And that's ok.  I respect my readers.  They get to choose if they like it or not.  Somehow I got caught up in my own issues, insecurities, and worries.  I've put so much of myself in that book, including my relationship with God, that releasing it opened up my vulnerabilities and I didn't realize it.  And then it began affecting not how I saw religion, but how I saw spirituality.  I have never been religious.  But I am very spiritual. 

So, I trust that God has me in His hands.  He carries me more these days than He has before.  He is with me.  And I'm not ashamed of any of that.  I love Him.  I am thankful to Him, for Him, for His love and His care.  For sending crows to make me smile. Perhaps it was serendipitous that it took a panic attack in church, on Christmas Eve, to open my eyes.  But I see it now.  He is my guiding force.

So, with that . . . Happy Birthday Lord and Merry Christmas to All.

Rising Up to Fight

My life is an odd balance of good and bad.  I never thought I was too superstitious, but when "the good" came in heaping piles earlier this year, I knew something was coming.  I wasn't wrong.  The last three weeks have been some of the roughest of my life.

I am, unquestionably, lucky and blessed in most aspects of life, which allows me to say (and mean) that I live happily and have a good life.  It pretty much goes wrong with my body and health.  I am up at 0330 writing this, after all.

Over all the years I used this blog as a platform to keep family and friends updated, I guarantee I've never listed more than half of what is wrong with me.  So, I won't start now.  But if you've followed me, then you know the biggies:  Multiple Sclerosis, Breast Cancer, Valvular Heart Disease, and now Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS).

EDS is a rare genetic disorder that causes a defect in how the body makes (or doesn't make) collagen.  It's a connective tissue disorder.  There are 13 subgroups with a lot of overlap between them.  Some are diagnosed by symptoms and some by genetic testing.  I am pending genetic testing, but I've been confirmed for Hypermobility Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (hEDS) and I have visual and historical symptoms for Vascular EDS (vEDS).  Vascular EDS has a high accuracy rating on genetic testing, so that diagnosis isn't confirmed yet.

I've been given so much to read, it's overwhelming.  I think, if I was healthy, it might not seem like such a blow, but given everything else, this is hard.  To put it into perspective, when I learned about Breast Cancer, I was home alone.  I called my neighbor, who was like a sister, and she rushed over with shoulders to cry on.  And then we fought.  And we won.  I went at the doctors like, "Let's do this!  Cure me!"  I can't say I didn't cry in the years that followed, but cancer didn't break me.  I beat it.

Multiple Sclerosis didn't break me.  The uncertainty of my future almost did, but I learned how to reframe my thinking and planning, and that made a huge difference.  I've also been in weekly therapy for years to help manage my symptoms.  After I first learned I had MS, I went home, put headphones in, and walked around my garden for a while.  I'd stop and look out over the field, the back of the house, or just stare blankly at the sky.  I was mourning the life I thought I'd have, which I had to do to accept my new life.  I can't win against MS, but I can actively fight it.  So I do.

EDS . . . wow.  I just - I don't know where to start.  I've known for the last two years that the doctors were missing something, and that's not a slight against how good they are.  I have great doctors.  It's a testament to how rare this disorder is.  One of my doctors says I'm his "most monitored patient" and he usually sees people twice my age (seriously).  So, of course, the first question everyone asks me is, "How did they miss this your whole life?"  Because, yes, I was born with this.  It's a genetic disorder.  Whether I inherited it from one of my parents, both of them, or my genes mutated when I was a fetus, I was born with it and have unknowingly been adapting to it all my life.

EDS answers questions about my life that I didn't even know I had.  It's taught me that things I thought were normal about my body are totally not.  And that some seemingly benign things, like having super soft skin, are actually symptoms.

So the next question is why did they find it now?  I am stubborn with my pain levels.  I live in constant pain.  I don't want to depend on controlled substances to the point of resistance or dependency, so I will push it until I can't take it anymore.  Several of my providers think I'm too hard on myself in that regard, and (responsibly) advise that I treat my pain more than I do.  That said, I've been suffering agonizing joint pain for most of this year.  It started in my left elbow and then my right knee suddenly got bad, fast.  At times, I couldn't put weight on it.  Then I woke up a few mornings in a row unable to move my right shoulder without manually manipulating it first.

When I woke up and couldn't move my right shoulder or stand up, I knew I'd pushed it too far.  I got in with Rheumatology and was lucky enough to get a doctor who knew what I had by just pressing on my knuckle.  There was no collagen between the bones.  Also luckily, my health care system has one of three geneticists in the state and she's an EDS expert.  They got me in with her the next day.  Unfortunately, having a connective tissue disorder with a hypermobility aspect and  MS is going make "things very hard" for me.  EDS is not understood well, not many doctors know anything about it, and there's not really anything you can do for it other than preventative maintenance like physical therapy or massage therapy, and pain management.

I'm sure you're asking, "Lucky?"  Well, yeah.  I have answers now.  I've been poked and prodded and tested as  a medical mystery for so long, it's my normal.  My doctors have answers.

My friends and family have questions.  Too many questions.  It's been overwhelming to get a diagnosis like this with the expectation that I read up on it so I can have an educated conversation with the Geneticist after my test results are back, to process what I'm reading (because it's not great), and to field a thousand questions coming from every angle.  I've been filtering info out to family privately and on Facebook as I'm feeling up to it.  I have to be ready to tackle EDS to talk about it and I'm still not sure that this isn't the one that breaks me.  I certainly feel broken.

As with any diagnosis, in the beginning everyone tries to cram hope and sunshine down your throat.  It was the same with MS.  From personal experience, that's a shitty thing to do.  Giving people hope isn't a bad thing, but the way it's done dismisses the patient's fears and isn't realistic.  I've been through it with MS.  I mean no disrespect, but I don't need unrealistic hope.  I see through the bullshit.  I live in my body.  I'm not a pessimist.  To me, the glass isn't half full or half empty - it can be refilled.

EDS adds the certainty that MS lacks.  Those two together are formidable.  I am looking at a future of debilitating pain, physical disability, worsening mobility, and no real way to manage any of it.  That makes researching this so much worse.  I try to stick with facts, but it's good to get an idea of what EDS patients live with and their stories are heartbreaking.  At this point, I'd like to acknowledge that this is long and that you have no idea how many times I've had to stop typing because I can't deal with this.  Taking even just a second to take in a breath and close my eyes, helps.  Like I can lose this reality in that brief dark, respite.

So that's hEDS is a very small nutshell.  There's so much too it.  It's connective tissue.  It's your skin, your tendons, your organs, everything in the soft or connective tissues.  I can literally say that I'm literally falling apart at the seams.  It's everything.

And that doesn't include the fact that I glossed over vEDS.  It's not just me saying that I likely have it.  It's my cardiac history, it's my doctors who know about vEDS asking about my heart in that gentle voice that doctors use for delicate issues, it's knowing that I have leaky valves - the valves in the heart that are made of connective tissue.  The one, big complication of vEDS (and rarely in hEDS) is that the aortic valve will "slip" and cause massive internal blood loss that leads to a fatal heart attack.  Until the geneticist saw the vascular signs, she had started talking about how EDS generally isn't fatal and that hEDS will be minor compared to MS.  That speech disappeared quickly and life expectancy wasn't brought up again.

The median life expectancy for vEDS is 48.  When MS is the cause of cardiac issues, the median life expectancy is 45.  One of those two things is responsible for what's going on with my heart.  If that is all true, I have 3-6 years, maybe.  And it'll probably happen fast.  I've taken many breaks trying to get through this paragraph.  I can't stop the tears.  I thought I was mourning my life with MS?  Wow.

I don't put any of this stuff out there for sympathy or pity.  I'm an odd duck with weird things that people don't understand.  I try to help them understand.  I try to answer questions in one fell swoop instead of repeating myself over and over - that's so stressful.  I try to find others like me that I can learn from.  I want to share my experiences.  I suppose like any of us, I want to know that my life will have mattered after I'm gone.  And facing mortality, again in a matter of three years, is a big deal.

I don't know if it ever really occurred to me that I could've died fighting cancer, but I do know that I prepared for the possibility on the surface.  I got powers of attorney, a living will, and a DNR order.  I made sure that people knew what to do if something went wrong in surgery.  I asked my best friend to help my husband unload my geeky collections when he was ready.

But now?  This is so different.  This is looking at unread books and not knowing if I'll ever read them.  It's wanting to research Batman because there are gaps that I want to fill.  It's hoping I can go back to Florida one more time before I die.  It's hoping I get to finish writing my books so I don't leave my readers hanging.  It's truly getting my affairs in my order.  Reinstating my DNR.  Talking with my husband about what I need to do now to make it easier on him when I'm not here anymore.  I can't scratch the surface of this on a deeper level...my husband, my daughter, my granddaughter - I just can't face that yet.  So yes, right now, it might seem superficial, but don't judge until you're sitting in my shoes - which I don't like to wear because they make it harder to walk.

I know.  It's easy to sit on the other side and say that I don't know what's going to happen.  I don't.  I could die in a car crash on the way to one of my multiple doctor appointments tomorrow (which actually makes a stronger case for having your shit together to help your loved ones when you pass).  I could defeat the odds and live to 92.  Most of the people in my family live ridiculously long lives and are tough.  But I'm only human, with human fears and emotions, and I can only take so much in stride before I break.  I don't like to play what ifs.  It's actually something I bring out in my writing.  My characters will say that what ifs mean nothing and waste energy.  For the most part, that's true.  But there is a time and a place where using them to plan is necessary, and this is the time.

Maybe those tests will show I don't have vEDS.  Honestly?  I'm not going to believe it.  There's a 1-2% error margin.  That should be a relief if it comes back negative.  But I know what symptoms I show and my history.  Even if that test comes back negative, it is possible to overlap with hEDS, which I DO HAVE.  The good news there is that if we can manage it, I can add a decade or two back (from a cardiac standpoint), and the aortic valve slippage is possible, but rare with hEDS.  Which brings me back to pain and disability and a dark hole.  Do I want to live longer in agony?  Or die sooner?  It doesn't really matter what I want.  I'm not in control of that.

I control whether I fight or not.  And I fight.  Pain or agony be damned.  I'm a survivor and that's because I fight.  Death will win, eventually.  None of us can win that fight.  But we can fend him off.  That's our choice.

Even in a dark hole, I will eventually find light.

Nightwing and the Library

 Ok, so the two have nothing to do with each other.  Maybe.  We'll see how this post goes.

DC Collectible Batman Black & White Nightwing by Jim Lee (image source:  comicbook.com)

When I'm stressed, overstimulated, or overwhelmed--good or bad--I stress shop.  The other night, I was "writing" and ended up falling madly in love with 2 Nightwing statues/figures.  Obviously, if I was falling madly in love with Nightwing, I wasn't writing.  ;)

Although, technically, I opened the browser to research materials used for men's summer suits and formal attire, so it started out book-related.  How I got to Nightwing, I have no idea.  He looks nice in a suit, though.

Dick Grayson in a suit.  (image source:  Book Riot)

And how did I fall madly in love with Nightwing anyway?  I was already madly in love with him.  Queue Janis.  "Oh.  My.  God."  I mean, have you seen him?  And then to find one based on the legendary Jim Lee's art??  (Confession:  I love LOVE love Jim Lee's art.  Give that man a sharpy and he'll draw something awesome on the spot, no errors.  Perfection.)

So . . . the Black and White Nightwing (#736/5000) arrived yesterday and is guarding my mantle (or enjoying being eye candy, who knows).

The other Nightwing figure?  Queue bloody nose and extreme Janis.  "OH.  MY. GAAAAAAWD!"  Enter Kotobukiya's Ikemen Series.  This lone picture doesn't do him justice.  Check out Kotobukiya's website for photos from every angle, and good luck finding one in stock anywhere.  Most sold out in during the 2017 pre-order window.

Kotobukiya's Ikemen Series, kicked off with nightwing.  Stock photo.

The Ikemen figure comes with three faces and a separate mask so you can have Nightwing in full costume or flashing those baby blues with or without his lips parted and holding his mask.  (I'm dying here Kotobukiya.)  He hasn't arrived yet.  I.  Can't.  Wait.

When I first saw it, I was captivated.  It's gorgeous.  He's beautiful.  Black and White Nightwing is edgy.  Ikemen Nightwing is sensual.  And the more I stared at him, the more I realized he kind of looks similar to how I see Eric in my head.  A bit younger, but the hair and eyes . . . wow.

(Eric's appearance is supposedly 23-ish, but that's an 1864-65 version of 23, so I see him in his late 20s/early 30s.  Hardened by life.  More mature.  Battle worn.  For the longest time, I thought he'd look like Brandon Heat - with blue eyes - in Gungrave before he "died."  With Brandon's original eye color, if you visualized auburn hair and removed the glasses, you'd have an idea of how I see Jonathan, too. See below.)

Brandon Heat in Gungrave.  (Episode and image source unknown.)

Image above modified to look like Eric (blue eyes, no bags). 

I digress.  Prior to my Nightwing objectification, I already had the good news I wrote about in my previous post, plus, that day, I'd gone to the library and spoken with the librarian and her staff.  She wanted to put my books into circulation (in process!) and she's a cataloguing librarian, so both books will be catalogued with the Library of Congress!  I'm also looking forward to speaking engagements, readings, and/or workshops starting around mid-April.

Sidebar:  My MS is a bit of an odd duck.  I mean, ALL MS is different for each person, but generally, MS is sensitive to heat, so most MS Warriors hate summer.  Heat rarely bothers my MS as long as I'm careful with it.  However, COLD is another story.  I don't hate winter, but it is downright mean to me.  I am super hypersensitive to cold and am suspected of having S.A.D., so usually by Christmas, I'm in bed for the rest of winter.  The colder and wetter it is, the worse I feel.  But, usually, I'm up and itching to get out around April, and slowly, but surely, I get out of bed and recuperate.

This is all very exciting.  Everything that's going on with my childhood dream, the upcoming Dark History and Horror Con, the library, the LOC, the Midwest Book Review, progress on book 3, the Dark Moon Press vampire anthology (release TBA), closing in on Con preparations and book freebie/goodies.  Plus, good looking medical scans, (mostly) good lab work, and a follow up consult upcoming, along with another round of regular check ups with all of my specialists.  Even good news can be overstimulating and stressful; hence, 2 Nightwings to drool over (plus a secret fun buddy for the kitchen that I haven't told Tim about yet).  Oh, and two books (The Peach Keeper and The Sugar Queen by Sarah Addison Allen - love her).  I think I'm just antsy.  Or my anxiety is acting up just enough to cause trouble.  Like Loki.  But anyway, stress shopping FTW.  ^_^   

(Well, just not for my wallet.)  Haha.

The Arrival Midwest Book Review, Dark History and Horror Convention, And MORE!

This is longer than I intended, so I'll provide bullet points:
*Midwest Book Review critiqued "The Arrival" - skip to the end to read its awesomeness
*My health sucks and it interferes with my life and writing goals (surgery is higher in the air than the Flying Graysons)
*I'll be at the Dark History, True Crime, and Horror Convention in November #DHHC2018
*In a TBA release, my short story "How to Make Lemonade" will appear in a vampire anthology by Dark Moon Press entitled "Tales of Blood and Shadows"
*I hope to have Confessions on Kindle by the end of the year
*I'm making progress on the 3rd "Children of the Morning Star" book, have a tentative release schedule, and new working title
*I may have some speaking engagements forthcoming at the library
*The Library of Congress is cataloging Confessions
*I am bad about using apostrophes, quotes, italics, and underlining consistently for titles (forgive me)
*I write long blogs
*The above picture is one of several potential covers for Confessions that I chose not to use
*Signed copies of both books are available locally at G-Mart in Downtown Champaign

OK- AND GO!

Shortly after Confessions of the Second Born went live, I sent copies of it and The Arrival to Midwest Book Review with hopes of not only being selected for review, but also of gaining (hopefully) positive industry critiques.  I will get to that...I mean, it is the best part of this post (so skip to the end if you want), but first, updates and such.

While waiting to hear from Midwest Book Review, I prepped for the local Dark History and Horror Convention in November (#DHHC2018), dealt with another batch of health issues that may or may not need surgery, tried to work on the 3rd book in the Children of the Morning Star series, and wrote and submitted a short story to Dark Moon Press for a vampire anthology.

Sound like a lot?  You have no idea.  I don't allow my health to define me, but I can't help how it affects me.  Sometimes my brain works and sometimes it's way off--like, not off in left field, but not even in the stadium.  Or the parking lot.  It's more like finding Waldo in a zoomed out satellite picture of Chicago.  Throw in new things and Waldo's buried.  Essentially, nothing about this is easy for a normal person on a good day, so it requires a lot of hard work, energy, and time from me (and I always mess something up and need to fix it - par for the course). 

Ooh!  TWO sports metaphors from the geek in ONE paragraph!  I'm getting better at this.

Ok, so, in many ways, writing and editing is cathartic, which I've written about in the past, and can be both a source of stress and a coping mechanism for stress.  If you've followed my blog, you already know the story: I wrote the first two books over a decade ago, it started as a dream when I was 13, and health interruptions thrust me into a rut of edits.  To any creative type, a project is rarely ever finished.  We continue to peck at endlessly until we set a 'done point' and stick to it.

At points where I really needed something good to happen, I called 'done' on both of them and set up a rough plan for the 3rd.  But the 3rd is tricky.  I started it shortly after the initial two.  It's a patchwork mess of disorganized scenes and notes.  At some point, I organized several patches into the first five chapters, with the rest making up a potential 4-7 additional chapters.  The 3rd already contains 188 extremely roughly written pages.  The working title is "Children of the Morning Star." (COMS)

Truth be told, once Confessions went live, I was a nervous wreck about finishing the series.  I hadn't creatively written anything seriously in 6 or 7 years.  Can I still do it?  Will my health and brain and everything else allow it?  I'm in constant pain and my hands and arms have started going numb.  Sometimes I can't even hold a book to read.  How do I expect to type a new book?

Enter Dark Moon Press's Tales of Blood and Shadows A Vampire Anthology.  For weeks, I wrote out ideas for a submission.  I started 3 stories and abandoned them.  Then I had a dream, a dream of a nightmare I'd had years ago that made me sick to my stomach.  So I wrote.  And a short story was born.  I submitted it and recently learned it will be used.  (Release TBA plus happy dance!)  It is titled How to Make Lemonade and tells the story of a suicidal woman who falls into the arms of a widowed vampire.  The question, however, is whether he sees her as something to save?  Or savor?

I liked it.  I liked it so much that I was far too nervous to submit it because I knew something had to be wrong with it.  I read it aloud to a few groups of people and asked a few friends to read it.  The groups were captivated to an uncomfortable level.  I've never felt such laser-pointed focus from others before.  But that's a good thing.  And the readers loved it.  I held onto it for a few weeks, still unsure, and then called it done.  My nerves were on fire.  Not only had I not written in years, but I tried an entirely new writing style.  Seems like a good gamble.  How to Make Lemonade is not your typical vampire story, but, if you've read either of my books, you already know that I don't write "typical" vampire stories.  Visit darkmoonpress.com to subscribe for updates and notifications, and, of course, like and follow me on Facebook.  (My current stress relief project is making cute mini-bookmarks to market this short story and anthology, and I'm toying with writing a novel based on the short.)

The positive feedback boosted my confidence.  I read the 188 pages I'd previously written for COMS.  EGAD!  The writing is terrible.  The story is fine.  The story and characters were more developed than I remembered.  I took time to think over the story elements and direction, jotted notes, and so forth, and finally began working on it.  I've only just finished cleaning up the first chapter, but I've already cut thousands of words from the first 20 pages.  It's put me into a hybrid writing/editing mode that works.  It's a bit bland, but the twisty prose and phrasing will come.  I can't get ahead of myself.  I've also developed a new working title, but that's a secret for now.

It's no secret that there is a lot going on in my life, always.  This is one, tiny facet, but it's a dream come true.  All my life, I wanted to be an author.  I wanted people to read my words.  I wanted my writing to make people think.  And it is!  Currently, Confessions is only out as a paperback.  A Kindle version is coming, and when it does, it will be free to download for the first several days.  I hope to have it ready by the end of the year.  I apologize to anyone who is waiting for it.  It is a project that requires more focus than I can give it right now to do it right, and I want to do it right.  My readers deserve that.

Additionally, my local library asked me about possible speaking engagements and possibly entering my books into circulation.  That is also very awesome!  It's hard for me to commit to anything (I mean, I've got help for the upcoming Con, but I am terrified of how I'm going to get through it, both physically and mentally given the challenges I face just getting through a day at home with my cats - lol), but I would love, LOVE to do this.  My therapist sees my books as a shining beacon in my treatment.  I love to talk about them, about the process, about the different meanings people take away - she says I light up.  I perk up.  I've spent so much time in their world that it's real to me.  And when I'm there, I don't hurt.  When I "come home," I pay for it dearly, but it's a price she thinks is worth it for the relief and happiness it provides.

And so, with everything going on, I'm closing in on my tentative time table for COMS.  3 months or so to write it.  3-6 to edit and polish.  Another 3 to start publication and proof, proof, proof.  Plus 3 months extra for delays with an estimated release by the end of 2019.  Health complications and stress loom over this time table, placing me in an unfortunate position of already being behind.  It's a self-imposed deadline that can obviously change, but I'm not going to drag this release out.  It's a different story now.  People want to know.  I have readers!  They want books to read!  I can't allow myself to fall into another ten year rut.  And trust me, that is not an option.  If I need to, I'll work with another author.  This story is my story, and it's been my story since I was a kid.  It deserves readers, and the readers deserve something compelling and good.

Alas!  That brings us to today!  Today I learned that the Library of Congress is cataloging Confessions, and I found "The Arrival" in the October issue of Midwest Book Review's Small Press Bookwatch!  And with an awesome critique!  Many, MANY thanks to the reviewer(s) at Midwest Book Review.  Thank you so much for accepting my submission and for enjoying it.  I am incredibly happy right now and that's something my aching body or Wheres's Waldo brain can't take from me.  It follows:

"The first volume in Kastie Pavlik's 'Children of the Morning Star' vampiric fantasy series, "The Arrival" reveals an author with a genuine flair for originality and character driven narrative storytelling. A deftly crafted and unfailingly compelling read from beginning to end, "The Arrival" is unreservedly recommended and certain to be an immediate and enduringly popular addition to community library Fantasy Fiction collections. It should be noted for the personal reading lists of dedicated vampire fiction fans that "The Arrival" is also available in a digital book format (Kindle, $1.99)."  - Midwest Book Review

Much love to everyone who is on this journey with me.  It's a Hell of a ride.  I hope you're enjoying it.

(And don't forget that copies of both books are available locally at G-Mart!  If you purchase a signed copy, message my author page and I'll arrange to customize the autograph and give you extra goodies!)

The Deadpool Experience - Maximum Effort

I promise I haven't fallen victim to the DP craze.  My adoration of Ryan Reynolds goes way back to Two Guys, a Girl, and a Pizza Place.   Yeah.  Way back.  Decades.  Note the "s."

But why not go crazy for the crazy mouthy merc?  Especially since it's the perfect role for Reynolds?  Here's how to make the most of your Deadpool viewing experience.  The more seasoned your are in comic spice, the more Easter eggs you'll catch:

1.  Start with some light torture.  Green Lantern, starring, of course, Ryan Reynolds.  Ignore the crappy CGI, the fact that Ryan would have been better as Kyle than Hal, and enjoy the movie.  Tons of Green Lantern Easter eggs for the fans.  It's actually not such a bad movie if you can ignore the awfulness of it.  ^_-

2.  Turn the torture dial up.  X-Men Origins:  Wolverine.  Weapon X.  Pretty sure I don't need to say anything else here. 

3.  Treat yo'self.  The Voices, starring, guess who?  Imagine the multi-verse and plant Deadpool here as a normal psycho instead of a mutant psycho merc.  It's a surprising delight.

4.  Prepare for Maximum Effort.  The Hitman's Bodyguard, deliciously filled with Ryan Reynolds.  Again, thinking multi-verse, this could almost be a Deadpool prequel.  Almost.  He's got moves and his mind.

5.  Main Event Part I.  Deadpool.  Duh.

6. Main Event Part II.  Deadpool 2.  Duh x2.  Especially if you watched numbers 1, 2, and 5.

7.  Bringing it down.  Way down.  Buried, tragically starring Ryan Reynolds.  Please note the irony.  Please.  Please.  Please!


Of course there are plenty of other Reynolds movies to pepper in at your discretion.  It's fun to watch his non-DP movies with DP in mind.  Give it try!  What do you think?  Have any suggestions to make it better?  See you in the comments!

Nature is Beautiful

Prairie life offers up some beautiful sunsets.  I snapped this picture before the fields were growing this year.  The artist's eye is always looking for colors and shapes in everything I see.  Some of those pictures end up as book covers or backgrounds to information like a family tree or a timeline.  I selected this one for the timeline at the end of Confessions of the Second Born.   

As Paresh notes in The Arrival, Illinois weather is incredibly fickle.  She compares it to Kansas, which is parked in the middle of Tornado Ally.  We are closer to the edge, however.  Several tornadoes recently streaked through my area - all in the EF-0 and EF-1 categories.  Scary nonetheless, especially when you consider that one or two whipped up without warning.  A few subdivisions took damage, but fortunately (not so fortunate for those hit) most of the damage was limited to farm buildings and fields.  

Most of Illinois is quite flat and perfect for farming, so even larger cities host vast fields (think anywhere not in Chicago).  Southern Illinois consists largely of Shawnee National Forest, which is most definitely not flat, but still has farms and vineyards.  It's breathtakingly lovely.  Closer to home, I love the corn and soybean fields.  Recent additions of wheat, winter wheat, and hay have added majestic fields of gold to compliment all the green.  It's fun to watch the farmers during harvest time, but sad, too, to lose all that color.

The old saying for healthy corn growth used to be "knee high by the 4th of July."  These days?  And even going back to the days when The Arrival takes place?  The corn has been head high by the 4th of July and the harvest dates seem to get pushed further and further back - sometimes into November.  It's changed so much that I can't remember when the harvest began when I was kid.

I recently spoke with a professional gardener who mentioned that we've officially been moved into a warmer climate zone.  We don't seem to have a Spring or a Fall anymore.  It's either hot or cold, and in those supposedly temperate seasons, we go from hovering over heating vents to blasting the A/C.  50 degree temperature swings have become the norm.  Larger drops have occurred - we've gone from blizzards that shut the entire area down to 70 degrees in 24-hours.

When I wrote The Arrival, I was nervous about keeping the chilly summer that greets Paresh upon arriving home.  But June in 2007 (I wrote it in 2007; it takes place in 2006) was chilly and it was weird because the corn was still head high by July 4th.  That was the first summer I noticed such a drastic shift.  Colder Junes have become more normal, which then shift into blistering, miserably hot days that tend to last until it snows for the first time.  And then it gets hot and then it snows, and then we lather, rinse, and repeat until winter actually decides to show up right about the time we're ready for Spring (which won't show up).

I know "Spring" is here when the song birds arrive.  They'll still get blasted by a few rounds of snow and drastic temperature drops for about a month or two, though.

I'm not opening a debate about Climate Change.  These are my observations.  Until my health took it away, I loved being outside.  As a kid, I loved the 4-foot snow drifts that formed around my parents' house and making tunnels and snow forts.  As an adult, I loved swinging and sipping chardonnay on 90-degree days with my laptop on my, well, lap.  (duh-doy ;-P)  At any age, I loved (and continue to love) playing with bugs, watching the fireflies at night, and listening to the cicadas in the evening.  I love it.  I love it so much that Nature became a character in my book without me even realizing it. 

It retreats to the background in Confessions of the Second Born given everything that happens and steals the focus.  Nature becomes more of a vehicle that carries the plot, but it's still important and relevant.  Nature in Orison Crossing is more magical than it is here in reality, but that's how I view it, especially in the summer with the trees and fields and birds and bugs and life.

You can probably guess that you don't have to ask if I stop to smell the roses.  I do.  Every day.  :) 

Random Stuff - What I'm Up To

That moment when you want to write something, but sit down and can't think?  That's what this is.  (laughs)  I feel like I have a zillion and a half (the half is important) thoughts zooming through my mind.  If I catch one, I'll jot it down and maybe this post will be somewhat cohesive.  Fingers crossed.

A few months ago, chest pain took me to the ER twice in two weeks.  Abnormal EKGs and another doctor's concern had me held overnight the second time.  Since then, I've worn, and returned, a month-long heart event monitor and am awaiting the results.  At the moment, the issue remains unexplained.  Neurology and Cardiology are working together to figure out the cause:  my brain or my heart.  (Giggity)

Probably unsurprisingly so, I haven't felt that great lately.  I'm experiencing more issues with my arms, which, of course, causes issues with my hands and fingers.  Like last summer, I'm hitting extremely hard fatigue walls that knock me out for a few hours.  And I'm feeling a greater disconnect between myself and my brain.  I swear, I talk about my brain like we share a symbiotic relationship, and that's weird, I know, but it truly feels like it. 

This morning I was talking to my cats about finding Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card on Hulu last night, (there was a huge WHOO-HOO moment when I found the books on Rightstuf).  I couldn't get the words right.  I kept saying, "Cloudclaptor..."  I got frustrated and shut up.  (I think the cats were grateful.)  But this word slippage and other vocal issues have been getting worse.  I mumble now and don't realize it, I put the wrong consonants into words (like Funny instead of Money), and I randomly pick up an Irish or other foreign accent.  It's still at that super weird stage that makes us laugh when it happens. 

Speaking of Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card, I love it!  Sakura is one of the cutest and sweetest anime/manga characters, and the anime itself is always uplifting with positive interaction between Sakura and her friends.  Thankfully, there is no English dub to waste your time with (unlike the original season-don't, just don't).  I'm so used to watching the Sub that it'd be odd to hear other voices.  Since I am reading the manga, and am current, I'll eventually get to a point where I need to stop watching so I don't ruin the reading experience.  So far, it seems that several episodes fit into a book. 

I've also been reading the Sherlock manga that essentially takes the BBC show and puts it to paper.  It's pretty cool.  The lack of color pages does limit what the reader can deduce, which is my only complaint.  It's obvious from the first book:  A Study in Pink.  I missed quite a bit of the pink stuff since it's all in black or white.  Otherwise, it's cool to enjoy Sherlock in different mediums.  Like with Cardcaptor, I read the books first and then watch the show.  I realize this reveals that I'm a late comer to the BBC show, but oh well.  With only 3-4 episodes per season, I like the forced pacing.  I also enjoy Elementary and the Robert Downey Jr movies.  I have the Moriarty novel in my towering "to read" pile, and the collected works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.  The game is a foot!

My newest obsession is watching (and listening to) the ISS live feed here:  http://www.n2yo.com/space-station/.  The first few days I watched, it was silent, so it scared the beejees out of me when I was in another part of the house and heard a man talking in the supposedly empty loft.  I hadn't noticed the other live feeds on the page and got to watch one of the astronauts (Alex) working in the air lock.  It's fascinating!  And watching the sun set from the ISS roughly every 20 minutes is otherworldly.

I picked up a book called "Civil War Front Pages" by John Wagman.  It is absorbing.  It's difficult to read since much of the news print is small.  I happened to flip to the day the war ended and was amazed by the headlines, huge and bolded, with giant eagles of victory.  I wonder what it was like for people to see that on their newspaper in 1865 after years of a nation torn apart.  The grandeur of the headlines spoke volumes.

I'm a bit behind on my comics, but I'm enjoying the Doomsday Clock comic and the Justice League Dark tradebacks - I'm almost done with them.  I can't believe Doomsday Clock won't finish its run until next summer!  AND!  I am so, SO thankful that Netflix picked up Lucifer for season 4!  A tv without Tom Ellis on it would be a sad tv.  The saddest tv if ever there was.  Now it can be happy.  ^_^  I'm into the fourth volume of the Lucifer run by Mike Carey (he was created by Neil Gaiman in his Sandman series).  It is vastly different from the show, but that's a good thing, I think.  Because they are so different, spotting Easter Eggs on the show is extra cool.  I'm also still working my way through the Hellblazer tradebacks from the original run.  I grew up in the 80s, so seeing it portrayed in comic form as an adult is eye-opening.  With few differences, you'd think it was modern day - racism, fear of war, violence, etc.  Aside from the supernatural aspects of the story, it's very real and sometimes that makes it hard to read.  Not hard in a literal sense - it's like watching the news these days.  You need a break from it.  Hence - moving slowly. 

I think we're going to watch a movie soon, so I need to post this and "run."  (I don't run; I hobble.)  BUT - we watched Annihilation the other night and it's amazing.  Gorgeous shots with a story that doesn't ram itself down your throat.  Anyone who's played The Last of Us - watch this.  So many of the mutations in the shimmer are reminiscent of scenes in The Last of Us and even from The Evil Within 2.  I would love for a game developer to base a game on this movie/book series.  It has potential for some really cool things. 

Ok, well, I smell popcorn.  Confessions is still in the works - I've just taken a small break while other folks are critiquing.  I think we'll be on track for a July release.  ^_^

PS - there's a promo video for Confessions on my Amazon author page.  Watch it!  amazon.com/author/kastiepavlik 

Book Status Update - Boring Blog Title

It appears that I’m neglecting my blog again.  Shame, shame!

A lot has been happening.  I’ll release info in bits as I get stuff nailed down (or staked down, if you will – bad joke, I know). 

For now, I’ve pulled THE ARRIVAL from sale to reformat the interior to match CONFESSIONS OF THE SECOND BORN.  It cut the page count by almost 100 pages, which also brings the price point down!  So, win-win for the readers! 

When THE ARRIVAL goes live again, it will be across various distribution channels and no longer an Amazon exclusive.  I may, periodically, return it to being an Amazon exclusive because that allows me to drop the price considerably and is really the only control I have over putting the title “on sale.” 

Meanwhile, the Kindle version remains live.  I will update it, eventually, but only to add a cleaner family tree and fix a few formatting issues.  Nothing too big.  It will continue to be a free download with purchase of the paperback.

I’m awaiting a physical proof of THE ARRIVAL to approve.  Once that’s done, it’ll go live within a week. 

I’ve been busy putting together sketches and information for the Notations section of CONFESSIONS.  I’ve heard this book is very intense and I don’t give the reader a break.  So prepare thyself for an emotional whirlwind. (evil laugh)

I love how THE ARRIVAL sets the stage for the overall story.  CONFESSIONS OF THE SECOND BORN takes that setting and runs with it (like Juggernaut and The Flash had a baby – which would probably be an ugly baby, no offense to the Flash).  It’s not fair to THE ARRIVAL, but I love CONFESSIONS so much more.  I don’t know if it’s supposed to be like picking a favorite child, which we all know is a thing, but it’s easy for me. 

If you haven’t been by the FB author page in a while, I’ve posted a picture from my day playing with the Civil War Cavalry, along with little things here and there.  And, if you’ve read THE ARRIVAL, join the discussion group!  They’ve been treated to early peeks at character sketches, marketing materials, and info teases. 

That’s all I’ve got for now.  Stay tuned.  But don’t hold your breath.  I do tend to neglect this blog.  ^_-

Something, Something, Butterflies, Batman, and MS

Sometimes things in life add up perfectly, such as a butterfly posing patiently for its photograph.  In a heart-shaped spot of light in a dark forest on a sweltering day.  Often, that's not how it works, though.  And even greater still, even those "perfect" moments benefit from additional attention. 

Most of us touch up our photos now, just as I changed the contrast and brightness to highlight the butterfly's spotlight.  The heart is natural, though--capturing that photo was a stroke of luck.  It seemed like an appropriate picture to share on Earth Day.

I don't really have a specific topic for today.  My mind has been jumbled lately, my memory worse than usual.  I lose thoughts quicker than they form.  It makes writing/editing difficult, but I'm doing my best and that's all I can do. 

I used to review anime and manga on this blog, periodically.  If I were to start from where I left off this would probably be the longest post ever--which would be quite the achievement given how I tend to ramble.  But, it is something I've been wanting to do.

I started reading manga years ago.  Exactly when escapes me, but I think I started with a 3-book box set for Cowboy Bebop.  This was before publishers printed the books in the correct Japanese back-to-front, right-to-left format.  Once that became the standard, my obsession took off.  What started with 3 books has grown into a large collection with hundreds of books - I mean, Bleach, alone, is over 70 volumes.

Like everything else in my life, my tastes are eclectic.  You might think I'm a shojo girl at first glance, but upon closer inspection, you'd see that I lean toward supernatural and sci-fi.  Vampires, ghosts, demons, time travel, mythology.  It's so hard to pick an all time favorite.  It's not manga, but Vampire Hunter D ranks high.  Trigun has to be next, followed by Black Bird and Cardcaptor Sakura.  I have too many current titles to rattle off, so the ones I look forward to the most are:  Attack on Titan, Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card (OMG I love CLAMP), Karneval, Noragami, and The Demon Prince of Momochi House (the nue is hot!). 

And then, of course, I got back into novels.  And now my novel collection has grown.  I adore Sarah Addison Allen's books.  The way she weaves her magical realism is incredible.  Freda Warrington's The Blood Wine Sequence series is amazing, and I love Gillian Flynn - just when you think the story should be wrapping up, she takes you beyond the end into places you'd never expect. 

So, for the record, at this point, I'm reading manga, novels translated from Japanese, and "normal" novels. 

Aaaaand then . . . my superhero fetish kicked into high gear and I started reading tradebacks and graphic novels.  And now have a substantial collection of those, as well.  I love Marvel and DC, but when it comes to reading, I'm nearly DC all the way.  Deadpool's in there, mixing it up, but I have loved Batman since I was kid, and I adore The Flash.  My "comic" collection consists largely of Batman and Flash titles & collections, along with Hellblazer, Lucifer, and Rick and Morty (not DC).  With DC's Rebirth event, I've also picked up Nightwing and Wonder Woman, and with the New 52, I got into Justice League Dark. 

Think that's enough?  Cuz I didn't.  Now I'm into actual comics.  Specifically Deadman and The Doomsday Clock.  I'd never read (or seen) Watchmen, so after reading the first few Doomsday Clock issues, I grabbed the Watchmen omnibus.  And now I need to go back and re-read the Doomsday Clock issues I have to understand the backstory.  I've started getting back issues of Batman and other titles.  LOL - I have a problem and not enough shelf space!   I should have posted a picture of my library instead of the butterfly, which is sad since I started this with the beauty of the Earth on Earth Day and now I'm posting about all the paper I own.

Believe it not, I do actually have a point!  I've been amazed that given the memory and cognition issues I face on a daily basis, I can follow as many story lines as I do.  Let me pause and do counting -- 35 current manga series, 12 comic series, and whatever novel I'm reading.  For some of these titles, the next book doesn't come out for years.  Take Loveless, for example.  I thought it was on a 2 year release schedule, so I thought the next book would have been out around October of 2015.  Nope.  It'll be out this summer.  So I've been waiting for it since probably 2013.  Others come out faster - maybe every few months, and others are at about a year.  For a book I'll read in under an hour. 

My point?  All of these stories have histories that are built by the book's creator.  Many of those comics have histories that have existed since the 1930s with retcons and additions and changes, and so forth.  It's all stuff that exercises my brain.  Frequently, I enjoy learning about the real histories behind the character as much I love reading the fiction.  Captain America's actual creation story is amazing.  Get me started on nearly any character?  I won't shut up.  I don't read much Superman, but I can tell you that the Superman we know and love today is from Earth Two, and that Supergirl is faster than Superman, who is thought to be the only man who can keep up, or possibly even beat, The Flash.  I'd love to see Supergirl and The Flash race. 

See?  I won't stop.  It engages my brain, and for that moment, or those few hours that I'm rambling on and on, I actually know what I'm talking about and feel confident about it.  So much of my day is spent trying to remember what I was going to say or do, or trying to remember my cat's name or remember who someone is in a photograph. 

I work hard on my cognition issues and reading is really the best thing for it.  I wish I had something equally as fun to help with my physical issues.  But there's not much I can do about that.  Use or lose it is what I know and that keeps me from laying in bed all day.  I force myself to get up and do at least one thing a day.  I miss the days when I could walk in a forest and take pictures of butterflies.

Look at that!  Sometimes things just come together!  ^_^ 

I came here today because I'm working on another round of edits for The Arrival's sequel and I haven't been able to focus on it.  People who know me know I have problems with my legs.  But I have problems with my arms, too, and they're getting worse to the point that holding a book or turning the pages is hard.  My arms go to sleep, they go numb, they are heavy and slow to respond.  It wasn't such a big deal when it was just my left arm, but now it's my right arm, too.  This blog has always helped me see things in a different light or helped me feel better.  As usual, talking about comics did the trick. 

I guess if this post has any point, it's to reiterate that old saying that if something's worth doing, it's going to take work.  I want to slow the damage to my brain and body, so I work at it.  I push myself extremely hard.  Past physical therapists have told me I push too hard and I should cut back to 1/4 of what I'm doing.  So, I've worked on that.  Doing too much can do more harm than good.  Which is why I like to read.  I don't think it's possible to read too much.  Except that I could overstimulate my brain and that's not good at bedtime. 

Another thing?  Enjoy what you have because you never know when you'll lose it.  Stop and take those pictures of butterflies.  Take a deep breath in a flower garden.  Appreciate those little things that line up perfectly.  If you can, work to make it even better, to make it shine.  A spotlight moment can be yours, but you have to be willing to see it and accept it. 

For example, I know The Arrival has a good story and that I'm a good writer.  But I'm just me.  It's hard for me to think like that.  And that's another thing I'm working on.  I know the sequel has a good story and the writing is good as it is.  But it needs to be polished and that's what I'm struggling with now.  My mom is helping me and it's incredible.  I don't think I'd get this done without her help.  And I'm eager to finish edits and polishing so that my *secret* beta reader can get her hands on it and give me much needed feedback.  Writing a book, polishing it, and then publishing it is like watching a caterpillar turn into a butterfly and fly away.  It's not easy.  It takes work.  For me, it takes a lot more effort than it did five or ten years ago.  Even just a year ago.  But I'll keep working on it.  I'll keep working on everything.  I owe it to myself and to my readers. 

I have no idea how long this post became and I haven't proofed it, so please forgive any typos - I tried to catch them as I went.  Hopefully, this all tied together, somehow, and was at least enjoyable to read.  Until next time!  Bye!  ^_-

Leave my brokenness broken

Vampires and cats seem to be my "thing."  Today, I learned something new about myself that I probably already knew deep down, somewhere, but hadn't structured into cohesive thought.  I was broken once.  And then I broke my brokenness and fixed myself.  It's deeply personal and private, but the revelation was amazing. 

Not one of us is perfect.  And no one can be strong all of the time.  Some of us put on that brave face and do what we need to do to get by, and others?  They break or they fight.  Forget MS.  Forget cancer.  Forget everything else "wrong" with me.  Me?  I am a survivor.  I am the person that runs toward the fire.  I overlook the bad in my life to celebrate the good.  I am happy.

What did I want to be when I was a kid?  An author.  And then an accountant.  Right and left brain.  The college counselors told me I'd never be happy with a career unless I could satisfy both sides of my brain - use the left at work and the right at home or vice versa.  Well, throw in MS and I'm lucky I can use my brain at all.  And just like that, I'm off topic.  My point here?  I'm still a kid at heart, so I haven't grown up.  So what do I want to be?  Happy.  As reported in Gundam Wing, "Mission accomplished."

Here's the thing:  I pour all that I am into my writing.  I always have.  Broken.  Unbroken.  Aging, sick, joy, sorrow, excited.  Love, hate, emptiness, soulful.  Survivor.  Victim.  Selfish.  Selfless.  My pain, anger, experience.  Diverse religions, interests, studies.  Empathetic.  Sympathetic.  Cold.  Warm.  Violence.  Peace.  Vampires, blood, darkness.  Rainbows, unicorns, sugar.  Cats and toys.  It's all there.

I keep thinking of a line from Poe's The Raven.  "Leave my loneliness unbroken."  It's my favorite piece of literature, and reminds me of when I would have asked to leave my brokenness unbroken.  Unlike the narrator, whose soul lay in shadow to be lifted nevermore, I chose not to wallow.

Another line reads:  "Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, doubting. . ."  I imagine that I stared down my darkness in much the same way, but at some point, I stopped looking and stepped into it.

I think that people, in general, tend to fear the unknown.  Many of us stay the course, take the worn path, and face the known whether it's better or worse than the unknown.  It's a risk.  I can't sit here and say I deliberately broke my brokenness or stared down my darkness.  It just happened.  So maybe I "just happened" to emerge reborn like a caterpillar to butterfly.  I don't know.  I can't say for sure.  It wasn't easy, but I'm a fighter.  Easy isn't something I've known, which I'm sure was to my benefit.  And my "fix" was not without its own scars, perhaps ironically.

That's the heart of the matter and where I've discovered my writing has taken me.  The Arrival and soon-to-arrive Confessions of the Second Born, aren't about vampires or God.  The theology in those pages is my own conglomeration of mythology and religion to fit the context of my fiction.  The real story is the search, and subsequent finding, of self.  Life's not easy - be ye vampire or human, demon or angel.  It's full of choices that are sometimes beyond our control.  So it helps to know yourself. 

It is so easy to sit in a chair, talking with a friend, and say, "If that happened to me, I'd do this."  Sometimes that might be true.  More often than not, it's probably not if that actually happened to you.  I'm reminded of when a family member was diagnosed with breast cancer.  During the discussion, I said that if I ever had breast cancer (ignorantly thinking I'd never get it because my risk was supposedly so low - risk is risk - take it seriously) that I wouldn't get reconstruction.  At the time, I was more active and said they (boobs) just get in the way, and I have the love of my life, so who am trying to impress?  So, you might imagine how this person felt, and how the conversation changed, when I was diagnosed with breast cancer and chose reconstruction. 

The hows and whys of it don't matter.  Until you are sitting in that chair, hearing those words, having every detail thrown at you, and being asked impossible questions, you don't know what you will do.  I didn't know what I was going to do.  I needed time.  I had to think it all through and make the best decision for me and my family.  In the end, I still question my decisions. 

When I broke my brokenness, I didn't have time to think or take it in.  It was a blur.  But I still had to make a choice.


The same holds true to life in general.  Whether you're going through the motions, breaking, or fighting, you are the one who needs to take it all in and make the decisions.  Sometimes they're easy.  Sometimes they're impossible.  Some will end up good and others will blow up in ways you'd never imagine.  If you truly know yourself, the process might just be a little easier.  Maybe.

I channeled all of this into my series.  I wanted it to mirror real life, even with vampires and angels.  I suppose the first book, The Arrival, succeeds the most since the supernatural characters will stand out far more in subsequent books.  Above all, regardless of who or what they are, these characters are making hard choices and living with the consequences, all while striving to strike a balance to find themselves and happiness--the same thing we all do, everyday.

What will you break or leave unbroken?  The choice is yours.