Lack of Patience is Sometimes a Virtue

I sit at my keyboard smiling. I’m smiling for the silliest reason. I’ve learned that I am a seriously emotion-based writer. When I’m sad, I write, when I’m in love, I write, when I feel lonely, I write…you get the picture. I’m smiling because I’m at a loss as to what to write. I’m not in love, I’m not sad, I’m not angsty, I’m not pining for a man I can’t have, I’m just, well, here. I find that amusing; a slight relief actually.

I keep trying to date; I’m not very good at it. Something about my lack of patience seems to keep my tolerance levels at an all-time low. And I’m actually fine with that. It means I haven’t rushed into anything stupid (can’t say that’s always been the case, I have a tendency to jump right in head first). My head is clear, my heart is far from closed off, but I’m just kind of existing in my own world without feeling the need to include a man in it right now.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, I have a short list of men I’m interested in. One is showing some serious potential…nothing like a man having the face of an angelic little boy, but lots of tattoos and a self-professed bad-boy…oh yeah, and the fact that he sounds JUST like Gerard Butler hasn’t been lost on me. Yes, that means he’s Scottish (insert growl here). There was a very pretty Englishman, who even wore a kilt, but I got a tad tired of the blowing hot and cold, so he’s dropped further down the list. And of course we have a few of the “normal” ones who make me laugh. By “normal”, I mean they live near me. Good for a night out. Dinner and drinks aren’t all bad. Then there’s the 32 year old body-builder who claims to “like older women”…he’s good for the ego, but I’m afraid I don’t make a very convincing Cougar, so he’s not really a viable option. Yeah, I like my life right now (insert cheesy grin).

So, if the world ends tomorrow (not that I expect it to, I have to work…sure sign that’s exactly what I’ll be doing), I can honestly say that I have no regrets; I’ve lived my life and made my own choices. Some choices weren’t always well thought out, but that’s just me and I wouldn’t change a single thing. I have some of the best friends a girl could have, I love my family and I’m open to whatever life has in store for me. I’m actually looking forward to it. I feel some new experiences and adventure are in my future and I can’t wait! I may even have to start making my own “vlog”, like Tessa has…because lord knows I have no shame (see one of her videos below for an example of THAT). Maybe I’ll even start writing seriously again. You never know…

Mid-Life Crisis & Tattoo Therapy

Well, since it appears that my mid-life crisis is still in full swing (for quite a few years now), what better way to commemorate it than with my first tattoo? That’s right. I got a tattoo at 42 years old. I only told a few people I was getting one, and they all assumed it would have a Scottish theme, perhaps something Celtic? Alas, no.

I think many people have had a preconceived notion about me. Just because I didn't have any tattoos never meant I disliked them. I just never had a good enough reason to get one myself. I always said if I had a reason, I’d get one.

I've had a lot of time to think and reflect lately. In doing so, I realized that I have spent the last five years trying to discover who I was as a person, not a label (i.e. Mom, wife, girlfriend, etc). I've made some serious judgment errors during this journey. It’s been an emotional roller coaster for me, lots of “wrong turns”.

The one constant for me was my best friend, my rock. He helped me in more ways than I think he’ll ever be able to understand. Without trying, he taught me so many things about myself. He taught me to be myself, to love openly and honestly, he taught me many lessons in trust and even more important, lessons in forgiveness.

I think he is the only man I've ever loved unconditionally. We’re all human and have our share of baggage and faults, he is no different there. The difference has always been his inability to hide what was in his soul, who he was deep inside, from me. That gift, that insight into another person, has helped me look at myself in a whole new light.

My journey is not complete; no one’s journey is until the day they take their last breath. But I know that without him being a big part of my life these last five years, I wouldn't be the person I am becoming, and I kinda like me right now. I’m stronger, more independent and have realized that my happiness is only dependent on ME. No one else.

I still have a lot to learn about myself, and tons of things to work on, I’m so far from perfect it’s not even funny, but I know I’m on the right track and I know I wouldn't be where I am without my Aussie Rock and the many lessons I've learned from him.

That being said, I decided to immortalize the last five years of my journey & the lessons I've learned with my first tattoo. No matter where my journey leads me next, this will be a constant reminder of how much I've learned, grown and changed in this time of my life.

*I should also add I decided to cover up a large part of a birthmark on my upper arm, so the red you see outside the tattoo is actually the birthmark, not a result of the tattoo. There's also a small heart at the bottom right. This was the day I got the tattoo, so it will get clearer over the next week I'm told (or I'll go back and have it done bigger & darker if it doesn't).

Lady Sinclair Fictional Scene WIP

Her body broken by the rocks below and swallowed by the angry sea had a certain appeal. Her spirit was already broken, why not her body, her soul? She could not count how often those thoughts had come to her; a certain way to end her pain. And yet she embraced that pain, much like she was the thick wool covering her shoulders that did nothing to warm her.

She knew he was never coming. She felt it deep in her soul; the ache that never quite went away. She stood on the hill overlooking the sea. The waves were rough and white capped, roaring in, and crashing against the rocks below. The wind whipped her loose hair around her head like an unruly coil of snakes. She tightened the plaid around her shoulders, even while knowing nothing could keep the cold outside from seeping through to her skin and meeting with the cold that she felt in her core.

There were no tears left. She had shed them all. It made her feel emptier knowing that. She held out hope for weeks that he would return to her. The sympathetic stares of those in the household only gave her the strength to never give up on Patrick. He had promised. He would keep his word. Those weeks had turned into months. The months had now turned into a full year. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but a day came when she just knew. She felt the sharp pain of that loss. It was as though she had been run through with an unused and dull knife, tearing and rending her flesh. The pain made her nauseated. She had been sick for days, confining herself to her room.

Tragic Fictional Characters...Why Do They Never Learn?

The online gaming community is much like writing fiction, but in a group setting. You name your character in your fictional world, you develop that character, build a whole fictional world around it. All the while, other players are doing the same thing. You role play that character to help your progression in the game, much like a writer does in their own head. The major difference is the other players, who have developed their characters and those characters bleed over into your own fictional gamer world.

Anyone who has played online games with any deal of tenacity will understand what I'm saying. Those who haven't will just have to trust that I know of what I speak. Been there, done that and own several t-shirts. 

Now the major problem with this scenario is where do your fictional characters end and the real you begin? You'll obviously have traits that you choose your character to possess, whether they are traits you wish you had, traits that are a small part of you, or just simply suppressed emotions or feelings you feel more comfortable giving to a character in a fictional and safe setting.

Every protagonist in anything I've written is a part of me, whether small or large, always a part. My first MS was no different. Maggie Sinclair was me. Well, me in eighteenth century Scotland. It was an easy choice when coming up with a gamer name to choose Lady Sinclair. 

Lady Sinclair started out a very tragic figure. I had plotted out her story and it did not have a happy ending. In fact, her life was wrought with tragedy and lost love. Unfortunately, that wasn't so much commercially viable in the fabulous world of literary publishing, so I replotted, revised and found a way to give her a happy ending. But she was always destined to be tragic. She was one character that had a mind of her own and really never liked me trying to change her story.

In my original MS, Maggie had the love of two men, and yet lost them both. She loved them in two very different ways, but she did love them both. She spent the latter half of her life waiting on the return of her soul mate, her true love. He never came. The man she had been destined to fall in love with, the one who could never be replaced by another, just never came back to her. She never knew what had happened to him. 

So that brings me back to how closely any fictional character follows your real life. Here is where you have control over your own story. Choosing to step away from the ever dramatic and oh so tragic Lady Sinclair is a no brainer.

Life is full of lessons, the really important ones are always the most painful. Life has no guarantees. If you wait on them, your life will simply pass you by. Live every day to the fullest. Love with an open and trusting heart. Cry when that trust is violated, but never, never let it effect your ability to love fully and honestly. Even a broken heart can heal with time. Lady Sinclair didn't understand that, but I do. 

Everybody Lies?

I'm not a minority when talking about being lied to. We've all been lied to, and we’ve all lied to someone at some point. Here is the definition of a LIE:

1.) false statement made with deliberate intent to deceive; an intentional untruth; a false hood.

2.) something intended or serving to convey a false impression; imposture

3.) an inaccurate or false statement.

4.) the charge or accusation of lying

5.) to speak falsely or utter untruth knowingly, as with intent to deceive.

6.) to express what is false; convey a false impression.

As I've gotten older (I won’t say wiser here, just older), I've tried very hard to always be honest, even when I've screwed up and/or done something awful. I’m old enough to own whatever mistakes I've made, and God knows, I've made my fair share and then some. This philosophy, however, doesn't seem to be shared by others. In case you’re not clear on the definition of truth (which some people apparently aren't), here’s the definition of TRUTH:

1.) the true  or actual state of a matter

2.) conformity with fact or reality

3.) a verified or indisputable fact, proposition, principle, or the like

4.) the state or character of being true.

5.) actuality or actual existence.

How many times have you taken for granted the fact that someone you cared for would never lie to you? Yeah, we’ve all done it. But to be fair, no one should fault themselves for trusting another person. It’s in our nature, and it’s one of the truly good things about a person; their ability to trust. I would like to believe there is good in everyone, and I try really hard to see it (don’t laugh here, I mean it. I don’t always do the best job, but I do TRY at least). Having faith in someone is gifting them with your trust, and trust is most definitely a gift. The definition of TRUST:

1.)reliance on the integrity, strength, ability,surety, etc., of a person or thing;confidence.

2.) confident expectation of something; hope.

3.) a person on whom or thing on which one relies

4.) the condition of one to whom something has been entrusted.

Understanding why you have been lied to or deceived is part of the healing process, a way for us to forgive, so that hurt doesn’t fester within us and grow as ugly as the lies that planted the suspicion, anger, distrust and hurt in the first place.

Most people lie for a reason. They lie to protect themselves, to protect someone they care about, out of insecurities about themselves, out of fear of rejection by others. They lie to gain something. There are so many reasons why people lie, but how do you get over someone you trust lying to you when you have no idea what that reason is, because the lies are so varied, abundant and most of them seem to have no rhyme or reason for ever being told in the first place?

You have to realize that person truly has a problem. Here something I found that explains a COMPULSIVE LIAR:

Usually thought to develop in early childhood, due to being placed in an environment where lying was necessary.  For the most part, compulsive liars are not overly manipulative and cunning (unlike sociopaths), rather they simply lie out of habit - an automatic response which is hard to break and one that takes its toll on a relationship.

What a sad life a compulsive liar must lead. So sad, in fact, that all I can do at this point is feel sorry, not only for them, but for the people who remain in their life, both family and friends. Once people know someone is a liar, they never look at them the same. How awful to live your life wondering each time someone looks at you, if they doubt everything you say. I couldn’t imagine how painful and lonely the life of a compulsive liar must be. How could anyone hold a grudge against such a person? I know I can’t. All I can feel is compassion, sympathy and the hope that some day they get the psychiatric help they need to be able to lead a healthy, normal and productive life.

Leaving the Darkness Behind...

Seeing the light at the end of the tunnel doesn't mean you no longer have feelings for someone. It means your feelings have changed and you can live with that, your happiness is no longer tied in any way, shape or form to that person and it means letting go doesn’t hurt anymore.

Funny thing about that light…when you’re happy, you’re really happy. It’s an honest feeling. It’s not a fleeting moment. It’s REAL. I can’t remember the last time I was happy with me. Just me. I finally am. I feel good about who I am, who I have become. It’s no longer dependant on anyone else, or their opinion of me.

It doesn’t mean I don’t still love. I do. Openly and honestly. I always have, I would guess I always will. The big difference is I don’t NEED to be loved back to be happy. I don’t require sacrifice from anyone, nor am I willing to sacrifice myself in the ways I have in the past. I feel good about this. Really good.

I love my life just the way it is. I answer to no one (well, unless I’m at work, then my two bosses can tell me what to do…they DO sign my check after all). But in my personal life, I have finally realized something. I always talk about the best time in my life being when I was 21-23 years old.

Thinking about it now, it was the only time in my adult life that I wasn’t with a man (okay, so I was with a few men, but let’s not go there). What I mean is I was my own person. I was not in a committed relationship. No one told me what I could or couldn’t do. I was married at 23 years old, and have spent the last 19 years trying to make men happy. I thought my happiness depended on that. Not so much.

So for the record, I have no plans to change my personal life any time soon. Would I like to have a man in my life? If his name is Gerard Butler…you betcha (okay, maybe if he’s not, but just Scottish)! I no longer need to have a man “love” me for me to feel validated or happy. In fact, it’s pretty much had the opposite effect for years now. Now I live for me.

Walking in the light is a beautiful thing! 

Now I’m going to finish cleaning my room…because I WANT to, not because I have a man telling me too. 

WIP Death Scene...Nothing Like Fictional Therapy!

The blood had all but drained from his weak body. She knew he was dying, truly dying. She cradled his head on her lap, brushing dark hair away from his face; he was even beautiful in death. Her heart was broken; shattered into a million pieces. He had saved her life, but the cost had been great. His eyes fluttered open.

“Forgive me” he whispered. She could not. She would not lie to him as he had to her.

“You know I’ll love you for a thousand years.” She whispered back, and kissed his forehead.  

It was true. She would never stop loving him, long after he was but a memory; he would still be in her heart, all those broken shards that ripped at her insides, making it hard for her to breathe. But she would never forgive him. She never could.

Finding it too hard to say more, she remembered a time when he had been her salvation; a time when he had been her knight in shining armor. Not the tarnished shell of a man he had become, but the one who had held her heart, her happiness, in the palm of his hand. She had trusted him with everything. In the end, it was her life he had saved, not her heart.

He reached up with the last bit of strength left in his body and gently stroked her cheek before his hand dropped back to his side as she watched helpless, the rest of the blood draining from the grievous wounds. Sobs wracked her body. A sudden panic overcame her. How could she live without him?

 

“Please…don’t…leave…me…” She cried.

“No no no no no no…”

Clutching his head to her breast and rocking back and forth, she raised her face to the stars. Tears ran in rivers down her cheeks. She let out a wail that was torn from her soul.

She was unsure how much time had gone by before any coherent thought returned, breaking through the fog of her loss, but when it did, she knew it was not over. She would now have to hunt down and kill the other half of her heart. She had no choice. In the end, she would forgive neither man, but would love them both, even in death.

Plotting and Character Development

I spent the weekend working out a few major plot points to the story I’m working on. I’ll admit it was mostly about how to kill two major characters, which had me and a friend giggle incessantly (it was an evil girl thing, seeing as how they are both male characters). Now that I have a loose plot, I decided to work on character development.

I know it’s been AGES since I actually talked about WRITING, but I loved to use visual aides for my characters. I would search the internet to find a picture or pictures for each character I was developing. Guess who’s been using Google search for images? Oh yeah…that would be me!

So, I have my first character I’m developing all picked out. He’ll be my “comic relief” in a REALLY snarky way. Now, I must warn you, I’m pretty much writing this as therapy and have NO intention of thinking this will be some literary work of genius (it won’t be). But I do plan on having fun with it!

That being said let me introduce you to Algonquin, other-wise known as Quin. He’s a sparkly fairy person. He’s pretty damn pissed that he sparkles, too. I think that’s really what’s got a burr up his ass. He’s much wiser than any of he other characters, and I think he’s going to have some really cool super-powers (well, besides being all sparkly).

The best part about my characters is they are all going to be based on REAL people. That’s why Quin sparkles…his human counter-part HATES all things sparkly (i.e. Twilight vampires).

I think I’ll save developing my main male characters for later….although I certainly know EXACTLY who they’ll be based on...and they have really sexy accents....all THREE of them (and here you all thought I was just gonna say "two", didn't you?). 

Into the Darkness I Descend...PLEASE?

I have used my blog many times just to work out my own feelings. Sometimes they have been very happy times, but more times than not, they are confusing or sad times. It’s just what I do; my own forum to say whatever I want. I’m typing this knowing I may, or may not, ever publish this to my blog (obviously I did).

There are choices we make in life we never look back on. We never question. My life was like that until about 4 years ago. The last four years have been a constant battle, mind over heart, heart over mind. I spent so many years, closed off emotionally, that when I finally opened up, boy did I open up. To the point of stupid.

There are things that even my closest friends don’t know. Things I have never shared with anyone. Often, our emotions lead us down very dark roads. Roads so dark, we can no longer see the path we should choose. I like the dark, I crave the dark. The dark enfolds me and makes me feel alive. I cease to just exist and start living while fighting my way through the dark.

Only problem with the dark? Well, you can’t see your nose in front of you, much less anything else. So while feeling your way through the dark, (because, let’s face it, you can’t SEE, now can you?) how the heck do you know you’re making the right decisions? YOU DON’T! Scary part, fun part, exciting part, STUPID part.

So into the light I have walked. Such a harsh reality. I don’t care for it, if I’m at all honest. It’s hard to hide all the glaring truths in the light. You can now see not only your own ugly side, but those around you who have hidden so well in your self-imposed darkness. I think I shall wander back into the gloom for a bit. I’m not quite ready to bask in the bright sun….yet.