Being Human

The other day, the power had gone off and we were left in darkness with only one candle.
My son and I were in a fight over some insensitivity but we were like, on the road to recovery. We don't like to be in a fight for too long. Advantages/disadvantages of being a two-person family.

Well anyway, we were in the same room because we were sharing the candle otherwise I guess we'd still have retreated to our respective corners. He was reading a book and I was reading fanfiction on my dying phone. The J in my story had an alter ego; a cold sumbitch, clinical, ruthless. He was trying to shut it down and tuck it away into a forgotten corner of his mind.

And it got me thinking about our fight and coldness and how everyone has that part of them that is clinical, and emotionless. 

It's a hard part.

Cruel even.

Like the Soulless Sam from season six of supernatural and how he behaved like a droid.

The crazy thing is, when my son taps into that part of him that is cold, I always think he got it from his father. Even though, if you ask me, I will tell you that I have ice in my veins. Something happened that really brought that home to me that night.

I almost burned the house down.

See I was looking for some other candles and I found one tiny stub that was almost done. So I lit it and put it on top of a tray which was sitting on top of the fridge. Long story short, the candle burned down to its root and then set the tray on fire. 

I was in the loo at the time and my son was in the sitting room. I don't know how he noticed that the kitchen was halfway to being on fire, but he shouted my name and said something's burning and I just ran. 

But I didn't run in a panic or in fear. No, I just hurried.

Threw everything outside that was still burning and swept up the debris even as my kid stood frozen. He was clearly terrified. So I made a point to ask him if he was injured. He said no and continued to stand outside in the dark. I knew then that he was shocked and scared and whatever we'd been fighting about just ceased to matter.

Long story short, the house could have burned down but I stopped it. My kid did help me by pouring water on the flames. My heartbeat didn't accelerate, my breath didn't come short, my hands didn't shake, I wasn't moved. It was just a thing that happened.

I wouldn't even have noticed my lack of being shaken if my son wasn't. I was surprised that he was because he's not usually the kind of person who is emotional about things. 

Naturally, all this navel-gazing about the cold parts of us had me thinking about recent events and the question I keep asking myself - why did it take George Floyd for people to start caring about police brutality.

And what it comes down to, I think, is what you nurture. You see, unlike J, I strongly feel that this ice-cold part of us has a part to play in our lives. It enabled me to walk into that kitchen and handle things before they went too far out of control - also thank fuck we don't live in a wooden house.

And of course, that took me back to this whole thing we're living through and what makes some people less "human" than others. And I think it comes down to which part you nurture, and which parts you don't. If your life is one of hate and fear, you're living in survival mode, that cold part is supreme. It's in the ascendancy. So you have less humanity, less empathy, you're living on the edge.

And that was an interesting explanation to me of why racism. Instead of being a balanced person with all the various parts, you have this being who lives in fear and so all they do is react. Isn't that interesting? What do you think?

I Got Fired Today

To me processing my emotions is like having my eyes tested. You know at the optician's when they put those giant metal glasses over your eye and tell you to read the letters on the board? And you're squinting, trying to make out if that's an A or a D? That's me when I experience an emotion. I have to squint at it from a distant and try to make out exactly what I'm feeling.

That's what I did this morning when I got a very polite notice from one of my new jobs that they'd decided to let me go. How did I feel about it? Was I surprised? Sad? Relieved? Disappointed? All of the above? I'm not sure yet; still squinting.
See about mid-July, I got all these new gigs falling into my lap at the same time. Which was a relief to be honest because it's always better to have too many than too few. But of course, it's stressful too because you're not only concerned about meeting deadlines but remembering which deadline is which.
So this job that let me go had one of the tightest deadlines and I literally shifted everything around so I could work on it and meet the deadline. The client had a very elaborate outline which nevertheless managed to be quite vague on specifics. Lots of 'they should kiss but no intimate sex' and then 'he says from his point of view and she says from hers' and 'she discovered she's not pregnant' (what? when did they have sex?).
Anyway, so I'm writing. I'm writing. I'm writing...

I send in the first draft and the client is concerned that I'm halfway through and some things haven't happened yet. And she gives me more paragraphs that had things such as
scene
scene
scene
as instructions. (I kid you not).
Well, me wanting to do the best job I can for her, I ask her to please elaborate, maybe in point form so that I can really hone in on the problem. In short, find out what the problem is. I get no reply until 2 hours to the deadline when the project manager asks me to hold off on the project.
I mean, wow. Nine sleepless nights later man...
About a week later after I asked what was going on, the project manager informs me that they decided to let me go.
So you see why I don't know how to feel about it.
Well, being the person I am, I asked for the feedback that got me so summarily dismissed because I always have to know the why of things.
I ask too many questions.
I think that was partly the issue.
Well, according to the client, I was correcting her on her feedback and generally costing her time and money. She didn't see why I couldn't just figure it out instead of asking for more clarification. She felt strongly that I was the problem.
Fair enough.
Once I read that, I understood the problem and I politely asked the project manager to convey my apologies to the client for making her feel corrected and wished them all well.
I'm...I don't know.
Most of me has already moved on but the part of me that always needs answers wants to know how I feel about the whole thing and how I will incorporate this experience in my future endeavors.

It's weird because just after I got that dismissal, one of my other employers sent me a new project. Sometimes I watch my life from afar and try to figure out what the universe is trying to tell me that day.
I think what I'm getting is that in order for you, as an employer, to get the best work out of your employee or vice versa, honesty is key. When I read the client feedback, it was rambling and all over the place. But her complaining email about me to my project manager was clear and succinct, easy to understand. She felt more comfortable expressing herself behind my back than she did, telling me to my face what she needed.
Unfortunately, this is a very common phenomenon in the workplace and I am writing a memoir for someone who experienced the very same thing on a grander scale. It's a very immature attitude I find and one of the things that continue to shock me as an adult. When I was a child, I thought that being grown came with automatic maturity and even after twenty years of adulting, it still blindsides me that this isn't the case.

I think it comes from a place of not being able to give or take honest critique. Many people find it hard to hear the truth and they also, therefore, cannot speak it. And when I say the truth, I'm not talking about being mean. People confuse mean and honest, rude and honest.
Saying things like, "Gosh your books sucks so hard," might be the truth but is also intended to hurt. Contrast with, "Hey I didn't like your book because of A, B and C." that is a critique that is not only honest but also helps the writer to improve. It's genuine, coming from a good place rather than simply immature and mean.
So when I say, 'give an honest critique' I am talking about the latter, not the former and only in 2018 is it necessary to explain honesty.
So I think what I have learned today is, I feel...acceptance of what has happened.
That if I look at myself critically, knowing who I am and how I operate the answer to 'What would you have done differently?' is absolutely nothing. And that is not always a bad thing. Sometimes you're just a bad fit. Instead of trying to squeeze yourself into a space that is not meant for you, better to move on to find the space that is waiting for you.
Life is too short for bullshit people. Keep it moving.

Halt!
I have to a few announcements:
There are two group giveaways taking place on instafreebie this month in which I am participating.
 Summer August Hot Books featuring Child of Destiny and 224 other books and
Other Worldly Creatures - The Craved Fantasy Giveaway featuring In the Shadow of the Styx and 46 other books.
Read, enjoy and for the love of Mike, review, sign up for newsletters and spread the word.
Love you big time.
Happy Sunday!

Great Expectations, Harsh Reality

Last week Kanye wanted to be water and this week, he's supporting Republicans. This is not a new thing. Probably Kanye has supported Republicans ever since Obama called him an asshole and didn't invite him to his super-duper White House black people gatherings that he invited Jay and Bey to and everyone else...
Except for Kanye.
And then he has this beef with Jay...I don't know where it came from. Is he that mad that Blue doesn't have play dates with North? He wanted Jay to come over when Kim got robbed? That would have been awkward man. First of all, it's not like the Carters and Kim really get along so why would they be invading her space when she's already traumatized? Jay called because he wanted to know what he could do without making Kanye's wife uncomfortable. I know it's nice when people actually show up for us like physically.
But are they really friends like that?

As far as I can see, Jay never had any friends. Everyone except Swizz Beatz who's ever worked with him seems to have a problem with him. He's not seen hanging out with anyone except Beyonce's family. It's only after therapy that you see him in social settings with the likes of Diddy. And that's probably more business than pleasure. He's at the street corner where the hustlers be; it's not a safe place to have friends.
My point is Kanye expecting more than Jay can probably give.
And we, the public, are expecting more from Kanye than he can give. His recent tweets have Twitter in a tizzy of upset and confusion. But if you step back and look at what this Candace person says, Kanye has pretty much said a lot of those things already. Of course, he likes how she thinks. She takes pot shots at Obama, at Jay Z, at all those people who are not giving Kanye the 'respect he deserves'. Of course, he likes how she thinks.
It's just not that deep.

Are you looking for Kanye to save you?
Are you looking for anybody to save you?
Stop looking.
Nobody's coming.
We have to save ourselves. We have to be our own Kanyes. Shout out our own work and blow our own trumpets.
It's just not that deep.

It's been a bit of a depressing week. I hate when I have an assignment to do and I don't finish it on time. Especially when I really need the money. So I was super stressed and broke and my arm starts really hurting so I can't type. The topic of my assignment was Female Domination. Now if you want to know what a patriarchal world we live in, try and google that term and see what the search results are. In spite of how widespread male submission apparently is, not much data is available about it out there. And the few semi-academic articles I could find on the subject tended to treat male submission as some sort of mental illness or failing as far as the man involved is concerned. The ebook I was writing was meant to be a sort of guide for men looking into that aspect of BDSM so I didn't think writing about how it's a mental illness would be helpful. Lack of data is also very frustrating.
Anyway, there I was; stressed, depressed, broke and behind deadline and my arm was hurting from all the typing. So what did I do?
I asked my eighteen-year-old son to write me a page so I could rest. Also, he's very narrow-minded as far as the whole man-woman dynamic is concerned and I thought I'd expand his horizons.
He was writing while exclaiming the whole time. But he actually did give me a page I could use so win-win. Plus he learned some new stuff about men and hopefully it will lead to a greater understanding of himself.
See you don't need Kanye or any celebrity to save you. The tools to save yourself are all in your mind, you just have to broaden it.
 How do you do that?
Reading is always a great place to start.
Visit my author page and get started.

God is A Guy

I just read a post on facebook which stated that a woman who sleeps with ten men is a whore while a man who sleeps with ten women is umm...was it a ninja? Or a hero? Something implying the man is super awesome anyway. The reason being that it takes more effort to have sex with ten women than it does to have sex with ten men.

Then I skimmed through the comments and there was a general celebration from the men, stating that this person had grasped the brass ring when it came to logic and correlation.
And that is when I knew that God is indeed a guy. There is no other reason why he would create such creatures unless he was one of them. This failure in the use of logic is the final proof, the nail in the coffin, the pineapple on the pizza.
God is a man guys.

Just to break down this idiocy for the men reading this and wondering what the problem is...
The definition of a whore is a prostitute that is one who solicits sex for money. She's a streetwalker who sells her body. That's what the dictionary says with emphasis on the pronoun, she. Implying that men cannot be prostitutes although life and fanfic very much demonstrates that they can. Now according to Einstein up there, he's come up with this new equation where a whore = skills in attracting a mate. So if you as a guy attracts ten females to yourself, you are highly skilled and therefore NOT a whore, but if a girl attracts ten males to her, this is so much easier than the inverse, that it makes her a whore.
So if it's easy for you to attract a multitude of men, you're a whore. But if you attract a multitude of women well...high five?

I mean...
It's 2018 people.
If male minds are this incapable of evolution, I have to conclude that the flaw in the design was the creator's fault. He made men in his image right? Women were the afterthought, produced from a rib? They probably developed logic because as the afterthought, they weren't embedded with all original features.
It would explain a lot.
Speaking of things not making sense,  the ebook industry is suffering under the monopoly of Amazon while all other ebook sites screw the pooch. I feel like someone should call a summit. Has anyone else noticed this?

On Taking Back Your Power and Owning Your Shit

I read an Instagram post today, by Rose McGowan. Do you know her? She was the new sister in Charmed once Shannen Doherty left. Are y'all old enough to have seen Charmed?
Anyways.
Here's the post.

I remember wanting to cry that day. Well everyday really. Every day I filmed this movie. I was pressured into doing it for all the wrong reasons ( big @UTA agentess known for her cruelty and I believe hatred of beautiful young women.) This woman who was meant to develop and further my career pushed me to do my first studio film. It was called Ready to Rumble and it was expected to be a hit. I threw the script in the trash 3 times. But I hadn't worked since the sexual assault. I didn't want to do this movie. It was stupid as hell. I was told by my agent that if I did this big studio film @warnerbros would put me in the next Clint Eastwood film. It wasn't a bad set, I just didn't want to there. Every day I was pushed to be an over the top sex object and nothing else. Written by basics, captured and filmed by a man, produced by men, edited by a man, music by men, sold to theaters by men and on your screens courtesy of men. And I was sold into it by a woman. On set I mostly tried to project out of my body and into a safe place on the astral plane. Look at what my eyes say in this picture. You may see a hot young chick, I see reinforcement of stereotypes, horrible career management, and personal vacancy. While my body was left on earth and got stuck being embarrassed, not valued and to serve as only the sexy object in a film. Sent to tittilate young boys and make girls aspire to be me cos I turned their boy on. See how that works? In my book BRAVE, I am pulling back the iron curtain. This is not a tell. This is a tell it how it is. - Rose McGowan 'excerpt from BRAVE the book' coming in February @harperonebooks LINK for pre-order in bio ☝️☝️ #brave #rosearmy #anarmyofthought

A post shared by Rose McGowan (@rosemcgowan) on Sep 3, 2017 at 4:49pm PDT

And I was thinking earlier how people have the absolute wrong reactions to things, and what the appropriate reaction is to a certain thing. For example, President Trump telling victims of #HurricaneHarvey to 'have a good time'...clearly something is missing somewhere. Is it sociopathy do you think? Or just lack of empathy? His mama didn't bring him up right? He just could not absolutely care less?
We seem to lack a lot in the empathy department these days.
So here I was, reading this post, and I figured that the expected appropriate reaction would be...what? pity? sympathy? outrage at Hollywood? At the 'woman' who 'sold Rose out?'
I don't know.
I'm serious.
Tell me what the appropriate reaction is.
Because I suspect that my reaction was a bit to the left of the field.
When I read it, this proverb was going through my head;

Rose points the finger at her agent, at Hollywood studios...says she wanted to throw the script in the bin but...Clint Eastwood movie! So okay according to her she had to sell her soul to Crowley in order to get what she wanted. 

According to my understanding of how demon deals work, you have to agree to it yes? You seal the deal with a kiss and you hand over your soul. So then what? Do you blame the devil for taking it? The devil's just doing his job. Willing buyer, willing seller.

To agree to do a trashy piece of work and then to turn around and say, "The woman agent sold me out" and "Hollywood made promises they (didn't?) deliver." is to sell your soul and then complain about the devil buying it.

This. is. your. shit.
Own it.
Rose wanted something. She felt like this was one way to get it. It didn't work out for her. Or it did. I don't know. I just know that shaming that agent for being cut throat and ruthless and doing her job because she is a woman is everything feminism should be against right? Why expect this woman agent to coddle you? Or baby sit or whatever the fuck she expected? The agent is working hard for her money, earning her commissions. If you're uncomfortable with the job, it isn't slavery, you can say no.

You can quit. You can find another way.
But you didn't.
That was your choice, Rose.
Yours.
Not your woman agent's.
Not Hollywood's.
I get that this is a very unsympathetic way to look at it but life is hard man. Reality is harsh. Gotta learn to deal with that shit.

Speaking of owning things and taking my power back, She Leads Africa did a feature on me in August about how I took my power back from publishers who weren't even willing to use lubricant. You can read it here.