Days drag by, clawing through the hours
Nights grow colder, longer
Pain leaves trails in my heart,
My eyes blinded by the tears
I can't breathe
I can't think
All I can do is miss you
Dying inside with each moment
You are gone
Storm DeVille
6-19-2013
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Saturday, August 3, 2013
How I spent My Summer
Thus far it has been an exercise of pain, pain and more pain. To start, let me start at the beginning.
Before summer could even get here, I faced the loss of my dear Rizolvir aka Dizzy. I've spoken about it before, and the loss was not easy to bear. I had cherished him since he was a baby with blue still in his eyes. I knew his health was not what it had been, but I was not prepared. His passing was gentle as Bast reclaimed one of her own. But there was a hole left in my heart and life with his loss. Mourning brought on more stress and depression. Having battled depression all of my adult life, this was not an easy time.
On with the summer. I have insanely sensitive skin, that the least little thing can upset, thanks to a pain in the ass nervous condition. It sucks, as you can imagine, but it also hurts like hell! Most people get mild irritation and move on. Not me. My skin breaks out, blisters, develops hives, etc. It is a bitch to live with. This also pushes my stress levels through the roof and often aggravates the asthma that I've had for years. So the more uncomfortable my skin is, the harder it is to remain calm (where I can lessen the effects) and in worst case scenarios my asthma kicks in and breathing becomes a huge, dangerous problem.
Well, this summer started with a ton of stress. Noisy neighbors getting high and making asses of themselves for days on end, mind you the police around here are pretty useless (except for the K-9 officers--they're cool!) so we have no recourse or protection here, despite noise ordinances being broken. So bouts of drunk and high assholes making so much noise that my windows rattle in their frames and my floors shake like we are in the midst of a 9.5 earthquake really aggravated my stress levels and put added strain on my heart. Damn fucktards.
All of this, in turn led to ragged bouts of stress and insomnia. The insomnia led to further eye strain, like I needed that, and asthma attacks like I hadn't had in years.
With stress the chronic rhumatoid arthritis, which I've had since the age of 5 or 6, which was not diagnosed until I was nearly 20, I found myself unable to leave the house. And here comes the ol' claustrophobia flare up. Fuck! You can't go anywhere when your skin is so senstive you cannot bear clothes touching you. To wear anything made me break out in a painful welted rash. Damn stress.
This daily pressure, daily pain kept me so tense that it only worsened the condition. This in turn put major stress on my back, which was nearly broken some years ago. The injury reasserted itself, so now it is impossible to find a position that I find comfortable to sit. So I pad my chair with foam and pillows until it looks like the Princess and the Pea is alive and well. As the injury is very low on the spine, sitting is a raging bitch. No nice way to put it.
There are times that I have to lie down or soak in a hot tub just to tolerate the pain. Most meds do not ease the pain, but do make me deathly sick. So I am forced to go OTC and aid that with herbs, teas and long soaks. There have been times that I thought I was going to be stuck in the tub forever! Man, that was depressing.
On June 15th I lost my precious Biggy. He was a rescue kitty being thrown out by his owners, as they had developed sudden allergies. They say this to the woman with asthma and allergies??? Any way, Biggy had only been with us four years, but he made a BIG impression! I never regretted us taking him or his siblings in. Wonderful, sweet kids, each one. But having come from a place of neglect and abuse, he was not as healthy nor young as his years or as he should have been. We loved him, pampered him and got him to a place where he was very happy. This big sweet kid, a Maine Coon, was my nap buddy, my nigh on constant companion for these past four years. When I would work or write, he was there to help me. When I was depressed, he cuddled me. When I was sick he would fuss and let Cain know it. If I was in the bath too long he came to the door and called out until I answered him. Our lives are colder and dimmer without him in it.
In the mean time, we are both doing one day at a time, trying to not stress, trying to heal and recover. But that has been made more difficult as Cain's employers at his part time job find it necessary to dump their responsibilities on him, dump slacker employees' tasks at his feet and expect him, to basically babysit for them. Since he started work there they have grown lazy and absent, presumptuous and callous.
We have not gotten to spend a birthday or anniversary together in over six years. When we made plans for his days off, they called and insisted he cover for some lazy bastard who stayed home drunk! So a lot of what stresses me has been due to their actions. Cain gets stressed and then I get stressed, and then he worries about me and gets more stressed. So, hell yeah, he is looking for something else! This part time job has eaten away at his health, his time, his patience and his freedom to write.
And for my part, I am so pissed off that I can't see straight. If these lazy, self important idiots would grow up and act their fucking age instead of being absentee owners who want to pass the buck and play at being preachers, they would not only be better people, but would be taking steps to actually do as Jesus would have done. As it is, I can see no likeness to Christ nor his teachings in them. Christ was fair, humble, compassionate, kind...he did not pass the buck, over work and under pay, nor did he allow those who worked for him to break the law and cover for them.
So, in a nutshell, there you have my summer and why I have not been very active online. I am way behind in my writing and editing. I can't see worth a damn, and the stress does effect the quality of my vision so says my doc. Anyway, I am trying to take it easy, to avoid another heart attack or stroke and to get back on track again. I am actually hoping that sharing this will lessen some of the stress as I am no longer trying to bottle everything up. I do that by the way, then I erupt. Not good.
Before summer could even get here, I faced the loss of my dear Rizolvir aka Dizzy. I've spoken about it before, and the loss was not easy to bear. I had cherished him since he was a baby with blue still in his eyes. I knew his health was not what it had been, but I was not prepared. His passing was gentle as Bast reclaimed one of her own. But there was a hole left in my heart and life with his loss. Mourning brought on more stress and depression. Having battled depression all of my adult life, this was not an easy time.
On with the summer. I have insanely sensitive skin, that the least little thing can upset, thanks to a pain in the ass nervous condition. It sucks, as you can imagine, but it also hurts like hell! Most people get mild irritation and move on. Not me. My skin breaks out, blisters, develops hives, etc. It is a bitch to live with. This also pushes my stress levels through the roof and often aggravates the asthma that I've had for years. So the more uncomfortable my skin is, the harder it is to remain calm (where I can lessen the effects) and in worst case scenarios my asthma kicks in and breathing becomes a huge, dangerous problem.
Well, this summer started with a ton of stress. Noisy neighbors getting high and making asses of themselves for days on end, mind you the police around here are pretty useless (except for the K-9 officers--they're cool!) so we have no recourse or protection here, despite noise ordinances being broken. So bouts of drunk and high assholes making so much noise that my windows rattle in their frames and my floors shake like we are in the midst of a 9.5 earthquake really aggravated my stress levels and put added strain on my heart. Damn fucktards.
All of this, in turn led to ragged bouts of stress and insomnia. The insomnia led to further eye strain, like I needed that, and asthma attacks like I hadn't had in years.
With stress the chronic rhumatoid arthritis, which I've had since the age of 5 or 6, which was not diagnosed until I was nearly 20, I found myself unable to leave the house. And here comes the ol' claustrophobia flare up. Fuck! You can't go anywhere when your skin is so senstive you cannot bear clothes touching you. To wear anything made me break out in a painful welted rash. Damn stress.
This daily pressure, daily pain kept me so tense that it only worsened the condition. This in turn put major stress on my back, which was nearly broken some years ago. The injury reasserted itself, so now it is impossible to find a position that I find comfortable to sit. So I pad my chair with foam and pillows until it looks like the Princess and the Pea is alive and well. As the injury is very low on the spine, sitting is a raging bitch. No nice way to put it.
There are times that I have to lie down or soak in a hot tub just to tolerate the pain. Most meds do not ease the pain, but do make me deathly sick. So I am forced to go OTC and aid that with herbs, teas and long soaks. There have been times that I thought I was going to be stuck in the tub forever! Man, that was depressing.
On June 15th I lost my precious Biggy. He was a rescue kitty being thrown out by his owners, as they had developed sudden allergies. They say this to the woman with asthma and allergies??? Any way, Biggy had only been with us four years, but he made a BIG impression! I never regretted us taking him or his siblings in. Wonderful, sweet kids, each one. But having come from a place of neglect and abuse, he was not as healthy nor young as his years or as he should have been. We loved him, pampered him and got him to a place where he was very happy. This big sweet kid, a Maine Coon, was my nap buddy, my nigh on constant companion for these past four years. When I would work or write, he was there to help me. When I was depressed, he cuddled me. When I was sick he would fuss and let Cain know it. If I was in the bath too long he came to the door and called out until I answered him. Our lives are colder and dimmer without him in it.
In the mean time, we are both doing one day at a time, trying to not stress, trying to heal and recover. But that has been made more difficult as Cain's employers at his part time job find it necessary to dump their responsibilities on him, dump slacker employees' tasks at his feet and expect him, to basically babysit for them. Since he started work there they have grown lazy and absent, presumptuous and callous.
We have not gotten to spend a birthday or anniversary together in over six years. When we made plans for his days off, they called and insisted he cover for some lazy bastard who stayed home drunk! So a lot of what stresses me has been due to their actions. Cain gets stressed and then I get stressed, and then he worries about me and gets more stressed. So, hell yeah, he is looking for something else! This part time job has eaten away at his health, his time, his patience and his freedom to write.
And for my part, I am so pissed off that I can't see straight. If these lazy, self important idiots would grow up and act their fucking age instead of being absentee owners who want to pass the buck and play at being preachers, they would not only be better people, but would be taking steps to actually do as Jesus would have done. As it is, I can see no likeness to Christ nor his teachings in them. Christ was fair, humble, compassionate, kind...he did not pass the buck, over work and under pay, nor did he allow those who worked for him to break the law and cover for them.
So, in a nutshell, there you have my summer and why I have not been very active online. I am way behind in my writing and editing. I can't see worth a damn, and the stress does effect the quality of my vision so says my doc. Anyway, I am trying to take it easy, to avoid another heart attack or stroke and to get back on track again. I am actually hoping that sharing this will lessen some of the stress as I am no longer trying to bottle everything up. I do that by the way, then I erupt. Not good.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Lost Petals
Good morning! It's a little after 11 a.m. and I've got a horror movie going while I take a break and catch up on my blogs. I've gotten behind thanks to real life being what it is, you know real and ever hiccuping. :-)
I've been up since 4 a.m. and realized that I hadn't posted any notices about Lost Petals being up and available through Amazon. It's a collection of short stories that visit the emotions of love, lust & loss. I think those are areas we all have in common, some flavor or variation of them flow through each of our lives, regardless of where we live or who we are.
I think that I have always been fascinated by peoples' lives and how these elements affect them. Regardless of class, culture, religion or politics, these three events touch us all, in one way or another. You cannot escape love, lust or loss.
There are so many different kinds of love that any one of us could write an entire book on the subject. Lust is different, as it makes many people uneasy as they face a darker or more primal part of themselves, often missing out on there being more than one kind of lust. You can have a lust for life, a lust for food, a lust for wine, not all lusts are based on sexual desires. Loss, however, is the one that seems to visit us too often, be it loss of a relationship, loss of a friend or family member, the loss of a pet, or the loss of our ideal job, home or career.
As I often write romance or erotica. I do not write the kind of torture erotic tales that seem prevalent these days. I just can't see melding torture or pain with something erotic. It offends my senses. However, I have blended genres of horror and romance, or erotica, but I firmly believe in a time and a place for all things.
While some of my erotica or romances might be on the darker side, I leave the pain and torture to my villains. I don't believe the good guys should be dishing out the torture, etc.,
Anyway, I hope my latest offering finds its niche in the heart of readers. Once again, as a writer (and storyteller) I am presenting my baby to the public and hoping she is not found ugly! lol
Below are some links to help you find Lost Petals or read a free excerpt from the book. I've added my author's page link as well.
Happy reading & writing!
Until next time, take care and be happy. @>---
Amazon
Author's Page
Issuu
Scribd
I've been up since 4 a.m. and realized that I hadn't posted any notices about Lost Petals being up and available through Amazon. It's a collection of short stories that visit the emotions of love, lust & loss. I think those are areas we all have in common, some flavor or variation of them flow through each of our lives, regardless of where we live or who we are.
I think that I have always been fascinated by peoples' lives and how these elements affect them. Regardless of class, culture, religion or politics, these three events touch us all, in one way or another. You cannot escape love, lust or loss.
There are so many different kinds of love that any one of us could write an entire book on the subject. Lust is different, as it makes many people uneasy as they face a darker or more primal part of themselves, often missing out on there being more than one kind of lust. You can have a lust for life, a lust for food, a lust for wine, not all lusts are based on sexual desires. Loss, however, is the one that seems to visit us too often, be it loss of a relationship, loss of a friend or family member, the loss of a pet, or the loss of our ideal job, home or career.
As I often write romance or erotica. I do not write the kind of torture erotic tales that seem prevalent these days. I just can't see melding torture or pain with something erotic. It offends my senses. However, I have blended genres of horror and romance, or erotica, but I firmly believe in a time and a place for all things.
While some of my erotica or romances might be on the darker side, I leave the pain and torture to my villains. I don't believe the good guys should be dishing out the torture, etc.,
Anyway, I hope my latest offering finds its niche in the heart of readers. Once again, as a writer (and storyteller) I am presenting my baby to the public and hoping she is not found ugly! lol
Below are some links to help you find Lost Petals or read a free excerpt from the book. I've added my author's page link as well.
Happy reading & writing!
Until next time, take care and be happy. @>---
Amazon
Author's Page
Issuu
Scribd
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Not So Neighborly Neighbors
Over the past several years I've noticed a growing trend that really bothers me. That trend is one where people grow increasingly rude, obnoxious, inconsiderate and selfish. Everything is someone else's fault and they refuse to take responsibility for anything. It is a constant barrage of me, me, me and my rights are more important than your rights. I really hate this trend. It has spread to all areas and aspects of our communities, whether professional, religious, political or anything else.
Here in the U.S. I've watched as the Evangelical movement rises and continues to swallow anything Christian in its path if it cannot convert it to Evangelicalism, if that is even the right word to describe it. You see, I grew up in a tiny church where the ministers preached against evangelical movements because they did not adhere to the word of God nor the word of Christ. It was preached that the path of an evangelical was lies, deceit and the corruption of the Christian faith, and I DO see that today.
My Grandmother taught me to use my manners, to be a good citizen and to treat others as I would be treated, to trust, to love and to forgive. Following that as a way of life for many years, I got screwed over, used and walked on. At last I came to a decision to treat those who treated me kindly with kindness, and to treat those who mistreated me with a no nonsense fuck off.
I still try to give people the benefit of doubt, but so often they run with this, taking it as an opportunity to try and screw me over.
Cain and I moved out of the city, away from towns and settled in a quiet peaceful community of retirees and down to earth vacationers. We live in tranquility, or did, until our next door neighbor had a stroke. Now his children are there all of the time, making noise all hours of the day and night. The worst offender is his daughter--a gal in her 30's if not 40's--who blasts her music so loud that it shakes the floor and rattles the windows. She drowns out your TV, your own music, and if you are trying to rest or recover from illness you are simply shit out of luck. She has been spoken to, but shrugs it off as though she were the Queen and we peasants are beneath her contempt. However, should you mention calling the police on her, THEN she quietens down. The problem is that much of our police force is still dirty and on the take from drug pushers and scumbags. They have allowed this behavior in town until it is nearly a ghost town, because no one wants their family around crack heads and criminals who think nothing of breaking and entering to steal your stuff for their drug habit.
We moved to get away from that crap, we moved to a place that was quiet because I cannot afford to have another heart attack or stroke. I've had both due to the stress of 24/7 noise and threats from pushers because we won't buy their shit. Sorry, but I would rather keep a clear head and write, rather than waste my life getting high or dead.
Anyway, it was tranquil out here until several months ago when the neighbor's adult idiot children moved in and started to mooch off of their dad.
As I've been trying to recover from a repetitive flu bug and while grieving, this woman has made noise that would wake the dead. I've been unable to sleep for 3 days as she makes noise by slamming, banging, revving her engine and blasting her damn music. There are noise ordinances but she thinks she is above that. I've tried to be a good neighbor, keep to myself, mind my own business, keep music low after 9 pm and not turn it up before 12 noon. Even then, you cannot hear my music outside of the house. Her music jarred me out of bed the other day, as my bed shook, my windows rattled and the floor vibrated my attempt at sleep was an epic fail.
This is NOT being a good neighbor, nor is it being christian or reasonable or anything positive. This is a sign of our times, where blatant rudeness and selfishness prevail, where a neighbor's health (and their father's health) are jeopardized because this cracked out bitch wants her music so loud you cannot carry on a conversation in your own home!
Our nation is not getting better. Our politicians and lawmakers make laws they do not uphold, or only uphold when it is someone they dislike. It is the style of the day to be bigoted, racist and selfish while touting a belief in christianity and at the same time judging others harshly and condemning them (which is not christian!). We now live in a world that applauds losers and demonizes hard working, good people as "takers". When people like Paul Ryan suck at the government's teat and proclaims himself a christian and a maker, while not upholding the tenets of his faith, and embracing this Ayn Rand bullshit trend, while trying to take away our rights and our social security and health care, tagging us who paid in for years as "takers" I not only want to kick him in his non-existent squishy pink lady balls but I also want to tell him HE is what's wrong with America!
He and those like him are pushing this trend of selfish self centeredness as they vote in their own pay raises and make laws that take away our freedoms and constitutional rights. He is a prime example of a not neighborly neighbor, his kind have led to the bullshit of our next door neighbors being rude, inconsiderate douche bags.
Look around you and you see more and more people screaming to be seen or heard, as they cry out for their 5 minutes of celebrity fame. They want to be the next reality TV star, the next Kardashian or Girl Next Door, getting paid to do nothing. They seem to believe that they are so special that they are above the law and that common courtesy is beneath them.
I miss my America where people still said Please, and Thank You, and wished each other a Nice Day! We have become a nation fraught by rude, talentless, drifters looking for the next mark to score an easy ride from. We have become a nation of loud, obnoxious, rude and pushy oafs who think they are all too good to mind their manners and to cultivate basic common decency.
Sadly, this is this first time I've gotten to write anything in over 2 months. It is, surprisingly quiet at 3:15 am this Saturday. What a miracle!
Hope you guys are having it quieter and more peaceful than we have had it.
Wishing you Peace & Health,
Storm
Here in the U.S. I've watched as the Evangelical movement rises and continues to swallow anything Christian in its path if it cannot convert it to Evangelicalism, if that is even the right word to describe it. You see, I grew up in a tiny church where the ministers preached against evangelical movements because they did not adhere to the word of God nor the word of Christ. It was preached that the path of an evangelical was lies, deceit and the corruption of the Christian faith, and I DO see that today.
My Grandmother taught me to use my manners, to be a good citizen and to treat others as I would be treated, to trust, to love and to forgive. Following that as a way of life for many years, I got screwed over, used and walked on. At last I came to a decision to treat those who treated me kindly with kindness, and to treat those who mistreated me with a no nonsense fuck off.
I still try to give people the benefit of doubt, but so often they run with this, taking it as an opportunity to try and screw me over.
Cain and I moved out of the city, away from towns and settled in a quiet peaceful community of retirees and down to earth vacationers. We live in tranquility, or did, until our next door neighbor had a stroke. Now his children are there all of the time, making noise all hours of the day and night. The worst offender is his daughter--a gal in her 30's if not 40's--who blasts her music so loud that it shakes the floor and rattles the windows. She drowns out your TV, your own music, and if you are trying to rest or recover from illness you are simply shit out of luck. She has been spoken to, but shrugs it off as though she were the Queen and we peasants are beneath her contempt. However, should you mention calling the police on her, THEN she quietens down. The problem is that much of our police force is still dirty and on the take from drug pushers and scumbags. They have allowed this behavior in town until it is nearly a ghost town, because no one wants their family around crack heads and criminals who think nothing of breaking and entering to steal your stuff for their drug habit.
We moved to get away from that crap, we moved to a place that was quiet because I cannot afford to have another heart attack or stroke. I've had both due to the stress of 24/7 noise and threats from pushers because we won't buy their shit. Sorry, but I would rather keep a clear head and write, rather than waste my life getting high or dead.
Anyway, it was tranquil out here until several months ago when the neighbor's adult idiot children moved in and started to mooch off of their dad.
As I've been trying to recover from a repetitive flu bug and while grieving, this woman has made noise that would wake the dead. I've been unable to sleep for 3 days as she makes noise by slamming, banging, revving her engine and blasting her damn music. There are noise ordinances but she thinks she is above that. I've tried to be a good neighbor, keep to myself, mind my own business, keep music low after 9 pm and not turn it up before 12 noon. Even then, you cannot hear my music outside of the house. Her music jarred me out of bed the other day, as my bed shook, my windows rattled and the floor vibrated my attempt at sleep was an epic fail.
This is NOT being a good neighbor, nor is it being christian or reasonable or anything positive. This is a sign of our times, where blatant rudeness and selfishness prevail, where a neighbor's health (and their father's health) are jeopardized because this cracked out bitch wants her music so loud you cannot carry on a conversation in your own home!
Our nation is not getting better. Our politicians and lawmakers make laws they do not uphold, or only uphold when it is someone they dislike. It is the style of the day to be bigoted, racist and selfish while touting a belief in christianity and at the same time judging others harshly and condemning them (which is not christian!). We now live in a world that applauds losers and demonizes hard working, good people as "takers". When people like Paul Ryan suck at the government's teat and proclaims himself a christian and a maker, while not upholding the tenets of his faith, and embracing this Ayn Rand bullshit trend, while trying to take away our rights and our social security and health care, tagging us who paid in for years as "takers" I not only want to kick him in his non-existent squishy pink lady balls but I also want to tell him HE is what's wrong with America!
He and those like him are pushing this trend of selfish self centeredness as they vote in their own pay raises and make laws that take away our freedoms and constitutional rights. He is a prime example of a not neighborly neighbor, his kind have led to the bullshit of our next door neighbors being rude, inconsiderate douche bags.
Look around you and you see more and more people screaming to be seen or heard, as they cry out for their 5 minutes of celebrity fame. They want to be the next reality TV star, the next Kardashian or Girl Next Door, getting paid to do nothing. They seem to believe that they are so special that they are above the law and that common courtesy is beneath them.
I miss my America where people still said Please, and Thank You, and wished each other a Nice Day! We have become a nation fraught by rude, talentless, drifters looking for the next mark to score an easy ride from. We have become a nation of loud, obnoxious, rude and pushy oafs who think they are all too good to mind their manners and to cultivate basic common decency.
Sadly, this is this first time I've gotten to write anything in over 2 months. It is, surprisingly quiet at 3:15 am this Saturday. What a miracle!
Hope you guys are having it quieter and more peaceful than we have had it.
Wishing you Peace & Health,
Storm
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Pain, Loss & Life
April 2, 2013
It has been quite some time since I've been able to post anything to a blog. For the past few months I've been battling multiple run-arounds with an incredibly tenacious flu-bug that will not relent. Antibiotics, OTC remedies, home remedies--nothing works. I would start to panic, but there are so many people around here who have it, or have had it, and they fought tooth and nail to get over it. The hitch is that is is not a full blown so-sick-you-think-you'll-die variety. It is a milder, but far more hard to shake bug. Makes me wonder if it is a "legit" bug or a manufactured one being tested on U.S. citizens. Would not be the first time.
Anyway, I've felt sluggish and achey, really tired for what seems forever. Of course that could be the seasonal flare up of my RA and that makes everything pale under a haze of pain.
The recent weeks have been difficult as I've watched family and friends go through some very painful and very scary things. I won't go in to detail as that would intrude on their privacy, but it hurts to see those you care about suffer in any way.
This past weekend was a long and difficult one. My dear friend, fuzzy buddy and feline companion passed away. I've known this kid since we rescued him from the SOB that was going to shoot him. I don't want to go into that or I will be apt to pick up a shovel and beat the bastard black and blue as rage and grief crowd in again at the thought of never getting to know this beautiful kid.
I would rather introduce you to a sweet soul who was the source of so much joy; a tender spirit that was loving and fiercely protective, who could be such a badass macho dude, yet be put in his place by one look from an old-timer female kitty.
"Dizzy" as we called him, which was a nickname that stuck after Rizolvir became Riz, then Rizzy and when he grew goofy and playful turned into Diddy and at last Dizzy. You know how you pick a perfect name for your pet (or your child!) and it gets shortened into something you never would have expected!
Dizzy was a massive black cat, long haired and fluffy. He was also part Maine Coon and simply gorgeous to look at. As he got older he hated anything black: my shoes, purse, roses, stuffed Halloween cat. If it was black he had an instant hatred of it. We connected this hatred to the time in 2007 when the power went out due to a nasty ice storm. Since that time, Dizzy had a night light on so he would not be afraid of the dark. The irony of a black cat hating all things (and creatures) black, when he was the blackest, fluffiest thing ever did not escape us.
For those relics who still claim that black cats are evil, I kindly ask you to go fuck yourselves you ignorant, backwards assholes.
Black cats are no different than white ones, orange ones, striped ones or any other color or blend there of. Do not be afraid of adopting a black cat or dog. These kids need good homes with stable sane people who are not living in the dark ages or believing in sadistic fairy tales. Be kind: take in a needy rescue animal. Your life will be enriched!
In the end, one of my best and dearest friends passed in our arms quietly. He was not in pain, he was not frightened. He was held and loved and knew the safety of his people as he had since six weeks of age when we rescued him and his sister.
A huge hole has been left in our lives and hearts as we mourn the passing and loss of Dizzy, but we hold dear to the knowledge that he had a good life, a long life, and we could be there to comfort him.
While I'm usually not keen to share photos online as there have been some damn weird things happen, I will share a photo or two of Dizzy.
Rest in Peace, Dizzy, safe and under the gracious protection of Bast.
It has been quite some time since I've been able to post anything to a blog. For the past few months I've been battling multiple run-arounds with an incredibly tenacious flu-bug that will not relent. Antibiotics, OTC remedies, home remedies--nothing works. I would start to panic, but there are so many people around here who have it, or have had it, and they fought tooth and nail to get over it. The hitch is that is is not a full blown so-sick-you-think-you'll-die variety. It is a milder, but far more hard to shake bug. Makes me wonder if it is a "legit" bug or a manufactured one being tested on U.S. citizens. Would not be the first time.
Anyway, I've felt sluggish and achey, really tired for what seems forever. Of course that could be the seasonal flare up of my RA and that makes everything pale under a haze of pain.
The recent weeks have been difficult as I've watched family and friends go through some very painful and very scary things. I won't go in to detail as that would intrude on their privacy, but it hurts to see those you care about suffer in any way.
This past weekend was a long and difficult one. My dear friend, fuzzy buddy and feline companion passed away. I've known this kid since we rescued him from the SOB that was going to shoot him. I don't want to go into that or I will be apt to pick up a shovel and beat the bastard black and blue as rage and grief crowd in again at the thought of never getting to know this beautiful kid.
I would rather introduce you to a sweet soul who was the source of so much joy; a tender spirit that was loving and fiercely protective, who could be such a badass macho dude, yet be put in his place by one look from an old-timer female kitty.
"Dizzy" as we called him, which was a nickname that stuck after Rizolvir became Riz, then Rizzy and when he grew goofy and playful turned into Diddy and at last Dizzy. You know how you pick a perfect name for your pet (or your child!) and it gets shortened into something you never would have expected!
Dizzy was a massive black cat, long haired and fluffy. He was also part Maine Coon and simply gorgeous to look at. As he got older he hated anything black: my shoes, purse, roses, stuffed Halloween cat. If it was black he had an instant hatred of it. We connected this hatred to the time in 2007 when the power went out due to a nasty ice storm. Since that time, Dizzy had a night light on so he would not be afraid of the dark. The irony of a black cat hating all things (and creatures) black, when he was the blackest, fluffiest thing ever did not escape us.
For those relics who still claim that black cats are evil, I kindly ask you to go fuck yourselves you ignorant, backwards assholes.
Black cats are no different than white ones, orange ones, striped ones or any other color or blend there of. Do not be afraid of adopting a black cat or dog. These kids need good homes with stable sane people who are not living in the dark ages or believing in sadistic fairy tales. Be kind: take in a needy rescue animal. Your life will be enriched!
In the end, one of my best and dearest friends passed in our arms quietly. He was not in pain, he was not frightened. He was held and loved and knew the safety of his people as he had since six weeks of age when we rescued him and his sister.
A huge hole has been left in our lives and hearts as we mourn the passing and loss of Dizzy, but we hold dear to the knowledge that he had a good life, a long life, and we could be there to comfort him.
While I'm usually not keen to share photos online as there have been some damn weird things happen, I will share a photo or two of Dizzy.
Rest in Peace, Dizzy, safe and under the gracious protection of Bast.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
PROFESSIONALISM
Professionalism or the act of behaving in a professional manner is a subject that is often over looked. All of the self help books will talk about how to format, remind you to spell check, grammar check and punctuate but they rarely discuss what lies at the heart of professionalism.
These days we find ourselves living in an increasingly hostile, rude society. It is a society full of rage drivers, rude comments, threats, criticism and oneupsmanship. It is so easy to shoot back some obscenity at some rude person. We often fall to that temptation. But calling a rude, overly agressive overly testosterone laden (or estrogen laden) person a maggoty brained piece of crap will not improve the situation you are upset about.
With examples of bad and stupid behavior i.e. Kim Kardashian getting knocked up by Kanye West while her divorce is miles from over is just plain tacky. Cheap. Tasteless. Rude. With the LeAnn Rimes and Eddie Cibrian's out there we are shown on a daily basis how not to behave. Yet these people and many like them earn a bazillion dollars being very not nice people. Bear in mind that this is MY opinion and I'm entitled to have it whether they agree or disagree. My view in no way alters the fact that skeezy behavior is still skeezy.
We live in a culture that condemns honesty and decent behavior, while it applauds teen moms getting reality tv shows. Bad, rude, impolite and uncivil behavior abounds.
We have politicians and mouthy windbags espousing their "smaller government" while trying to regulate our personal, intimate lives, by telling us who we can love and who we can't love, wanting to demean a large section of our population. Some of this is based on who is getting bought off by lobbyists and some based on pseudo religious rules that even those who spout them do not follow.
We are bombarded by such irrational, hateful, hate filled behavior that it is often easy to forget that we must act like professionals if we ever want to be seen as a worthy professional capable of doing the job.
As a professional who has been published in traditional book and magazine, I stepped out of the life for awhile to deal with personal health issues. When I decided to come back I knew the publishing game had changed considerably, that it was more elitist and cut throat. It had lost its professionalism by stooping to wallow in the gutter and fight for scraps like starving dogs. Again, not all fell to that level but too many did.
The entertainment field has always been a world of nepotism and favors, of the old casting couch where desperate starlets sell their souls for half a chance. Be it music, theater, writing or modelling all of these still have areas of unprofessional behavior.
As a writer, and I use that term as author should be reserved for one who has been legitimately published and paid for it, we have to set guidelines for ourselves and follow them.
When we openly bad mouth another writer, or give them the old backhanded compliment, when we are dismissive or publicly tear apart their work, we are not being creative or using constructive criticism, we are being assholes. Being an asshole is not being professional. It is being petty.
Being a professional is being able to be civil to people you do not like or do not trust, yet are forced to share space with, even if it is cyber space. Curb your tongue and your temper, put a leash on your arrogance and self importance.
When I returned to writing after my health enforced hiatus, I wanted to share some of my work on a public site to see how it might fit in with current writing out there. I received rave reviews that were flattering but left me a little uncertain; I received hurtful comments, sneers and open attacks.
I was actually told by a grand dame of the psuedo literary field that I should *sniff sniff* dust off that little piece and sub,it it to XYZ e-zine. They might publish it. The e-zine she spoke of was public domain that offered no protection for your work nor any payment. I told her that my piece was already accepted for inclusion in an anthology, but thanks for the tip.
What I wanted to say was Bite me you fucking arrogant bitch! But I bit my tongue.
There are always people who think they know more than you do. There are always writers who want to keep you from writing, so they can show off their work and not have to compete against you. The simple fact of the matter is that we are not in competition. There is a massive online audience as well as physical audience looking for a good read. Millions of readers, millions of stories, millions of writers.
The best way to make an impression is to write well, tell a good story. While I carry the title of author with pride, I busted ass to get it. But at the heart of it all, I am an old fashioned story teller. In the olden days I would be the lady sitting around a campfire huddled beneath my blanket as I told children and adults tales to pass the time or enlighten them. Of course that would be after I made my potions and herbal remedies for sore throat and cholic.
Today, we live in a society that desires fame, attention, popularity at all costs. We have forgotten that to carve out our place we must first base ourselves on something solid and consistent.
That solidity and consistency comes from training ourselves to be gracious, humble and civil if not polite.
When someone rips your work to pieces it is out of jealousy, envy, insecurity and or hatefulness.It is not a true reflection on your work because this person is too blinded by their own demons to see any truth in anything.
For example, at one site there is a guy who goes around reaming everyone and everything that does not meet his lofty standards. He has attacked female writers with rude and crude commentary damning their gender one and all for being whores and frauds. His girlfriend or whatever left him and he now hates all women. It is easy for a blind man to see that this fellow has some emotional issues, but the few that try to help him or pray for him are abused as well. It is my belief that the girlfriend/wife or whatever she was to him bailed when his hateful misogynistic behavior grew to be too much. He sees himself as a literary genius, as an artistic icon, yet he does this with stolen art and poor reproductions of others' efforts.
You will encounter these kinds of people and it will be very difficult to deal with them. Bear in mind that you are a professional and professionalism dictates that you handle the situation with class and a touch of finesse. I blocked his ass because I do not care to waste time dealing with his psychosis. If he wants to claim he can see patterns in the universe that no one else can see, I say good riddance to bad rubbish. None of us needs the babblings of a misogynistic rager in our lives, it tinges our mellow and creative energy.
Professionalism also means holding your tongue, yet not being afraid to speak out. We all have our opinions, our thoughts, our beliefs, but we must keep in mind that we are not all alike. I can be very angry at the fanatical evangelical movement that tries to oppress and force us all to their ways, as I am a polytheist who follows a private spiritual path, but I have to remember that I have friends of the Christian faith who are not like that.You cannot make blanket statements. Part of professionalism is stepping back enough to see that blanket statements do not fit everyone.It is pure ignorance to think that they do.
Educate yourself, look things up, don't fall into lazy, stupid patterns of behavior that make you a liability for others to be seen around, associating with or reading from.
Hold yourself to higher standards, but allow other to seek their own level or standards.
Refrain from online verbal sparring matches. We face the battering from trolls at every turn. Delete their comments from your blog, Facebook, or what ever site you use and block them. If they continue to harass report them.
Professionalism is all about learning to respect yourself, and others, enough to step above the pettiness and baser behaviors that so many participate in. It does not mean to pursue a snobbish, elitist or condescending manner, it means to step UP from that.
These days we find ourselves living in an increasingly hostile, rude society. It is a society full of rage drivers, rude comments, threats, criticism and oneupsmanship. It is so easy to shoot back some obscenity at some rude person. We often fall to that temptation. But calling a rude, overly agressive overly testosterone laden (or estrogen laden) person a maggoty brained piece of crap will not improve the situation you are upset about.
With examples of bad and stupid behavior i.e. Kim Kardashian getting knocked up by Kanye West while her divorce is miles from over is just plain tacky. Cheap. Tasteless. Rude. With the LeAnn Rimes and Eddie Cibrian's out there we are shown on a daily basis how not to behave. Yet these people and many like them earn a bazillion dollars being very not nice people. Bear in mind that this is MY opinion and I'm entitled to have it whether they agree or disagree. My view in no way alters the fact that skeezy behavior is still skeezy.
We live in a culture that condemns honesty and decent behavior, while it applauds teen moms getting reality tv shows. Bad, rude, impolite and uncivil behavior abounds.
We have politicians and mouthy windbags espousing their "smaller government" while trying to regulate our personal, intimate lives, by telling us who we can love and who we can't love, wanting to demean a large section of our population. Some of this is based on who is getting bought off by lobbyists and some based on pseudo religious rules that even those who spout them do not follow.
We are bombarded by such irrational, hateful, hate filled behavior that it is often easy to forget that we must act like professionals if we ever want to be seen as a worthy professional capable of doing the job.
As a professional who has been published in traditional book and magazine, I stepped out of the life for awhile to deal with personal health issues. When I decided to come back I knew the publishing game had changed considerably, that it was more elitist and cut throat. It had lost its professionalism by stooping to wallow in the gutter and fight for scraps like starving dogs. Again, not all fell to that level but too many did.
The entertainment field has always been a world of nepotism and favors, of the old casting couch where desperate starlets sell their souls for half a chance. Be it music, theater, writing or modelling all of these still have areas of unprofessional behavior.
As a writer, and I use that term as author should be reserved for one who has been legitimately published and paid for it, we have to set guidelines for ourselves and follow them.
When we openly bad mouth another writer, or give them the old backhanded compliment, when we are dismissive or publicly tear apart their work, we are not being creative or using constructive criticism, we are being assholes. Being an asshole is not being professional. It is being petty.
Being a professional is being able to be civil to people you do not like or do not trust, yet are forced to share space with, even if it is cyber space. Curb your tongue and your temper, put a leash on your arrogance and self importance.
When I returned to writing after my health enforced hiatus, I wanted to share some of my work on a public site to see how it might fit in with current writing out there. I received rave reviews that were flattering but left me a little uncertain; I received hurtful comments, sneers and open attacks.
I was actually told by a grand dame of the psuedo literary field that I should *sniff sniff* dust off that little piece and sub,it it to XYZ e-zine. They might publish it. The e-zine she spoke of was public domain that offered no protection for your work nor any payment. I told her that my piece was already accepted for inclusion in an anthology, but thanks for the tip.
What I wanted to say was Bite me you fucking arrogant bitch! But I bit my tongue.
There are always people who think they know more than you do. There are always writers who want to keep you from writing, so they can show off their work and not have to compete against you. The simple fact of the matter is that we are not in competition. There is a massive online audience as well as physical audience looking for a good read. Millions of readers, millions of stories, millions of writers.
The best way to make an impression is to write well, tell a good story. While I carry the title of author with pride, I busted ass to get it. But at the heart of it all, I am an old fashioned story teller. In the olden days I would be the lady sitting around a campfire huddled beneath my blanket as I told children and adults tales to pass the time or enlighten them. Of course that would be after I made my potions and herbal remedies for sore throat and cholic.
Today, we live in a society that desires fame, attention, popularity at all costs. We have forgotten that to carve out our place we must first base ourselves on something solid and consistent.
That solidity and consistency comes from training ourselves to be gracious, humble and civil if not polite.
When someone rips your work to pieces it is out of jealousy, envy, insecurity and or hatefulness.It is not a true reflection on your work because this person is too blinded by their own demons to see any truth in anything.
For example, at one site there is a guy who goes around reaming everyone and everything that does not meet his lofty standards. He has attacked female writers with rude and crude commentary damning their gender one and all for being whores and frauds. His girlfriend or whatever left him and he now hates all women. It is easy for a blind man to see that this fellow has some emotional issues, but the few that try to help him or pray for him are abused as well. It is my belief that the girlfriend/wife or whatever she was to him bailed when his hateful misogynistic behavior grew to be too much. He sees himself as a literary genius, as an artistic icon, yet he does this with stolen art and poor reproductions of others' efforts.
You will encounter these kinds of people and it will be very difficult to deal with them. Bear in mind that you are a professional and professionalism dictates that you handle the situation with class and a touch of finesse. I blocked his ass because I do not care to waste time dealing with his psychosis. If he wants to claim he can see patterns in the universe that no one else can see, I say good riddance to bad rubbish. None of us needs the babblings of a misogynistic rager in our lives, it tinges our mellow and creative energy.
Professionalism also means holding your tongue, yet not being afraid to speak out. We all have our opinions, our thoughts, our beliefs, but we must keep in mind that we are not all alike. I can be very angry at the fanatical evangelical movement that tries to oppress and force us all to their ways, as I am a polytheist who follows a private spiritual path, but I have to remember that I have friends of the Christian faith who are not like that.You cannot make blanket statements. Part of professionalism is stepping back enough to see that blanket statements do not fit everyone.It is pure ignorance to think that they do.
Educate yourself, look things up, don't fall into lazy, stupid patterns of behavior that make you a liability for others to be seen around, associating with or reading from.
Hold yourself to higher standards, but allow other to seek their own level or standards.
Refrain from online verbal sparring matches. We face the battering from trolls at every turn. Delete their comments from your blog, Facebook, or what ever site you use and block them. If they continue to harass report them.
Professionalism is all about learning to respect yourself, and others, enough to step above the pettiness and baser behaviors that so many participate in. It does not mean to pursue a snobbish, elitist or condescending manner, it means to step UP from that.
OBSTACLES WRITERS FACE
Being a writer today is much harder than it was 40 years ago. There are a thousand and one distractions and society telling you what you should do, could do, would be better doing and so forth. Most of us learn to steal a few hours to write, usually at the cost of skipping meals or losing sleep. I was one of those writers who made a deal with myself. After work get the household chores done, tend to pets, tend to family/kids/siblings, then after all of that I could stay up till 2 a.m. or later when everyone was asleep and the house had finally grown quiet. Then it was up by 5 a.m. Or 6 a.m. when I was too tired to wake up. I lived that way for far too many years. I'm not alone.
Today I am very fortunate to have a loving, caring, supportive partner in my life. He also writes and we try to be flexible with each other. Despite our being flexible and supportive that does not prevent life from throwing up on us!
Most writers are trying to juggle a job (outside of writing), kids, spouses, family, recreation, church or social obligations. Somewhere along the line you realize something must be cut and you go on from there. Many people feel forced to attend church, despite having no deep abiding spiritual or religious feelings. They fear being a social pariah. You know what? You are already seen as such, because you write. So save yourself some grief, decide what you can and cannot live without. If your PS3 or 360 or Wii is a top priority in your life, then scrap writing. If living hooked up to your iPad or iPhone, Facebook, My Space or Twitter is more important than your real life, then skip writing.
Writing is a solitary, demanding craft. It is one mean mistress at times, yet at others it is the reason for being truly alive!
If you are in it for the money, there's the door. The amount of truly outrageously successful writers is probably 1%-2%. The majority write really good stories and entertain us, but they can't quit their day jobs. It doesn't matter how good you are, how successful or how hard working. Success is as much or more luck as it is hard work, dedication, sweat, blood or tears.
If you think you will jump on the bandwagon of fan fic writers who steal someone else's idea, change names and get published by the big XYZ publisher, don't get your hopes up. That is a rarity and also, most likely, someone who already has an in and is not truly a legitimate author.
Sadly, sucking up, kissing ass and brown nosing are still tools used for hacks to get their foot in the door. Some will even have sex for a chance to be seen. I call that what it is: prostitution. These sleazy tactics cheat the rest of us more scrupulous writers out of getting our works seen or heard. I refuse to stoop so low because it diminishes the quality of work that I create and also diminishes me as a person.
My grandmother was a wise old woman who insisted that integrity, morals, ethics and standards were a part of you and if you lost those you lost everything. If you do not stand for something you will fall for anything.
I spent many years finding my voice, finding my niche, my genre. I've always loved fantasy, but there are so many branches of fantasy and so many variations on a theme. I first started writing fiction that was of course fantasy based.
Then as I grew, I wanted to add adventure and suspense. As I matured I loved a good romance, a good love story with people I could root for. But as I read, and wrote and watched movies I grew to be disappointed in all of the re-hashes.
There was nothing fresh or new or special. It was a regurgitation of the last bestseller that somebody wanted to make a killing on. Many publishers sent out cheat sheets and guidelines that were basically fill in the blanks, like name and location,age and write exactly what we have on our guidelines. Man meets younger woman, they dance around instant attraction, are in bed by chapter 3, sooner if you can push it, have ups and downs that common sense and the telling of the truth would avoid, then get back together after much scarring and tears to live happily if distrustfully ever after or until they divorce. It was, in a word, bullshit.
By the by, most publishers, not all, want you to censor yourself to the point a chaste fouth grader could read your books. Umm, I am a grown up and I write for grown ups. My work is mature, graphic, scary, erotic, sad and beautiful in turns. I will not apologize for writing heat into my stories. I still believe in romance, in love, in really great hot sexy sex! But I do not believe it works in the midst of an intergalactic battle for domination and control of worlds. You are not thinking sex in the middle of a firefight. You might think about it during a lull when that really hot lieutenant that saved your life steps into the shower alongside you. But come on! Have some sense and decency.
As a writer one of your many obstacles will be in choosing what genre to write in, one or maybe many, and how to convey your tale and in what words. Will you be mainstream? Will you be darker, sexier, funnier? Will you brave a different path and write fetish tales? That is an obstacle you will have to face. You will have to decide what fits you as a writer, what kind of story do you want to tell.
Currently, as we speak of obstacles, my very spoiled cat is sitting in the room with me bellowing ooohmwoooo like he is retarded. A bit earlier I went to get a drink, as writing can be thirsty work, and stumbled across puppy poop. Shit. Damn. Have to stop, clean up the mess and correct the puppy. I don't think she is ever going to get the hang of paper trained or outside doggy business. But we keep trying, cleaning up, and trying. It is all about repetition and consistency. Love our pets dearly, but as living beings and part of our family, they are obligation as well as obstacle. Writing must come in second to living, needy beings.Don't ever ignore your children or pets. They rely on you for their survival. Life must come before writing.
As you venture forth in your writing you will face birthdays, parties, anniversaries, weddings, holidays, doctor appointments, funeral, sick elderly, sick children and vet visits. You will continue to write through devesatating bouts of depression, climactic bouts of joy as your sister has a baby or your brother gets that promotion or your husband or wife wins the lottery. Whatever it is, it is still an obstacle. It is something you must deal with as you write, or don't write. Sometimes you will take a hiatus and come back as a write-just-for-fun person. That's okay, if it is what makes you happy. But if you want to be a professional, then you will have to learn how to juggle like a circus clown.
For example: Cain was delving into his Bunnypocalypse book number three, when his boss called. On his day off, in the middle of the day. Why? Because the other guy working on Cain's day off is incapable of answering a question or leaving a legible note. So, the boss calls to ask if Cain knows what is going on because the other guy is clueless. They talk a bit get the problem worked out then Cain sits back down at his computer with a cup of coffee. The phone rings again. It is one of the managers with a few questiuons. Grr. The manager did not bother to pay attention to the boss. when he told them what was going on.
This is normal, it is a fairly common obstacle that intrudes on your writing. Often we write at the same time, as our desks are in the same room. What disrupts one of us disrupts both.
I also get a lot of hang up calls and calls from people trying to find me, only to find out they want the other woman in town who shares my exact name. Except we are about 20 years apart in age!
Often when the phone rings, Cain and I look at it like it is a cobra ready to strike. We let the machine pick up. Still, the jarring sound of a ringing phone, or a noisy rude neighbor can ruin your creative flow.
These are obstacles of the good kind, the annoying kind, the persistent kind, all of which you face as a writer.
As a writer who is pursuing their craft professionally while trying to juggle everything else, you will fight writer's block and bouts of feeling lost or even confused in the middle of a story you are working on. Try to reread the last few pages of what you were writing. Try asking youself What if? What if this happened? What if that happened? Are you trying to rein in too much? Or not enough? As a writer you must learn to be flexible, yet not too flexible. You must learn to listen to your own voice and tell your story not someone else's.
Being flexible will help you overcome or learn to live with your obstacles. Trust me, being flexible in the midst of a chaotic shit storm will spare you the bleeding ulcers, the stress induced migraines and the long periods of insomnia that over stress can bring.
Being flexible won't make your boss stop calling, it won't make the rude neighbor turn down the music that rattles your windows from half a block away, or stop your dog from barking for no apparent reason. All it will do is make your life a little easier, a little less stressful as you learn to roll with the punches instead of fighting them. In the end, a less stressed writer is a better writer who will live longer and produce better because they have learned to see and accept obstacles as a part of their life and are finding ways to cope with them.
A final note after being without internet and phone for nearly 2 weeks. There are obstacles that you will face as a writer that are beyond your control. We have been without service ever since some idiot severed the line completely. AT&T has shown no interest in restoring our services, despite numerous calls and trouble tickets being filed, Their techs have closed tickets stating the problem was resolved when they did nothing to remedy the problem. This has ben an ongoing problem since SBC was swallowed by AT&T. Customer service in non-existent and the local techs are abusive, threatening and lazy, not to mention incompetent. The threat of a lawsuit has gotten some higher ups motivated. However, I share this with you so that you will understand that as an indie author there will be some hellishly annoying problems that will not be resolved swiftly and you will have to exercise patience and persevere.
DELAY ON AFTER DARK
Due to circumstances beyond my control the release date for After Dark has been pushed up a few days.
At this time we have been without phone and DSL for days. We contacted SBC/AT&T to find out what was going on. Someone cut through the line. All the way through the line. This happens several times a year and customers are without phone or DSL for days. The repair crews can only repair something if they know it is down. Quite often, SBC/AT&T lag on their end and yet again customers get to pay for this.
So, I am stuck waiting for my services to be restored so I can communicate with my publisher and get the proofs sent out before it's a go.
I'm hoping to see After Dark released before the month is out.
At this time we have been without phone and DSL for days. We contacted SBC/AT&T to find out what was going on. Someone cut through the line. All the way through the line. This happens several times a year and customers are without phone or DSL for days. The repair crews can only repair something if they know it is down. Quite often, SBC/AT&T lag on their end and yet again customers get to pay for this.
So, I am stuck waiting for my services to be restored so I can communicate with my publisher and get the proofs sent out before it's a go.
I'm hoping to see After Dark released before the month is out.
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