Review: Sandorn’s Prison by Thom Bedford

This book started with a bang. Action and suspense were apparent from page 1 as marines were sent to rescue their comrades imprisoned in a mining facility that hasn’t been used in 100 years. Things go incredibly wrong and lots of people lose their life.

The story slows down after the initial scene as the reader is transported from the distant planet to a well-inhabited space station. From there, a good chunk of the book is dedicated to character development and showing the ins and outs of being an administrator during a war. There is some action during these parts, but it’s not as exciting as the beginning of the book.

I didn’t totally hate learning about the characters. They were pretty interesting individuals, and I was fairly surprised that the marines weren’t stereotypes that you normally see in space operas. They were given credible human qualities, including emotions and flaws.

I also liked the images included with each chapter. I thought that added something nice to the story.

The last few chapters of the novel were just as exciting as the beginning, and I found myself completely engaged with the end. It’s apparent that there will be another one in the series, and the author revealed just enough to make me want to find out more.

The biggest issue I had with this story was the fact that it kept referring to a military campaign that had taken place several months before this story occurs. I kept thinking that if that battle had been so important, why wasn’t it focused on more? Then, I found out that this is the second book in the series.

While reading the first book would have given me some more background information, I was still able to tell what was going on without having to have read the first one. I wasn’t overly lost and still enjoyed the story.

If you enjoy space opera stories that focus on battles and military campaigns, you may want to check this book out. Maybe start with the first one...

Review: The Playful Mind by Paul Daniel

I have been procrastinating writing this review because I am unsure of what to say. I requested The Playful Mind: How to Restore the Happiness We Experienced as Children because I thought it sounded incredibly interesting. I read a lot of self-help books, mainly as they pertain to narcissism and trauma, so I thought this would be a good supplement to those and give me a different perspective on how to heal my wounds and change my thought processes.

I don’t know if it was my mental state at the time, but I had a really hard time getting into this book. The ideas seem sound, but the presentation is challenging to get through. It feels incredibly repetitive and overly general. I get that the author doesn’t want to be too specific, as he wants all types of people to apply his advice to various situations, but it comes off bland and unhelpful.

It might have helped if the author included some examples from his own life into the text to drive his point home—and maybe he does later in the book. I only read 17% of the book. Still, to get to that point, it felt like a trudge. It’s possible to recognize that what he went through may not be the same as what others are experiencing, but it would give him credibility and make the book feel less general and more focused.

I may come back to this book at some point. There are times when I get burned out reading self-help books, and maybe that was my state of mind. If I give it another try, I will amend this review and give more insight into how I felt about the book.

Book Review: Interview with a #Vanlifer by M.K. Williams

The other day while scrolling through Instagram, I came across an ad for “Voracious Readers Only.” Intrigued by the name and the bright colors, I clicked on the link to find out what it was all about.

Long story short, it’s a site that connects readers to authors who are looking for reviewers. I decided that since I’m not planning on writing anything anytime soon and since I’m always looking for new books to read, I would give it a try. This review is for the first story I finished reading.

I’m hoping to make reviews a regular occurrence. I have a list of stories that I want to read, and I also want to stay connected to the publishing world (even if I’m not currently contributing). I thought this would be the best way.

Enjoy! 

Interview with a #Vanlifer by M.K. Williams

I really enjoyed this short story. It was such a great take on vampires and environmental stewardship. You may not think that those two things go together, but M.K. Williams makes it work. It highlights environmental topics in a new and interesting way, and it made me want to do better.

It did NOT want me to become a vampire. There are way too many complications with that.

The other thing I really liked about the story were the allusions to traditional and pop culture vampire stories. From the title, you can tell that the author was influenced by Anne Rice, and she nods to her throughout the story. She also nods to other vampire authors and creators throughout the narrative as well. I don’t want to give them all away, as you should experience them as you read the text.

Her inclusion of current social trends and technology also give this story an incredibly modern and “trending” feel. What the characters want to achieve and how they are setting out to accomplish their goals doesn’t feel outdated or “old.” Despite the fact that the vampires have been around for several decades at this point, they are able to change with the times to get their missive across. The message here is clear: being heard means finding the best tool to speak to the right audience.

In addition to environmental issues, the author does an amazing job of bringing other social concerns to the forefront, including the spread of viruses and “human” nature. There is no shortage of scientific realism mixed with fantasy, and it makes the story believable yet also a great escape.

The story is only about 12,000 words (or 64 pages, according to Amazon), but there’s a lot of information and entertainment packed into these pages. Whether you search out vampire stories or like a message about being better stewards to the planet, you might delight in this story. If nothing else, it’ll get you away from the horrors of reality for a short amount of time.

Taking a Break

Life is getting crazy busy with the holidays and the end of the year approaching, so I'm going to take a break for a bit.

Until I come back, feel free to find me on Facebook (I mainly post pictures of my dogs) or check out my stories on Wattpad.

Looking for Reconciliation

Lately, I’ve noticed that one of the things I’m having a hard time reconciling is how I feel in my head compared to my body. In my brain, I’m still 25 years old. Most of the time, life seems fresh and exciting, and I believe that I’m charming and can talk to anyone and everyone.

My sense of humor is a bit to be desired, with thoughts and comments trending toward the sarcastic and often finding themselves in the gutter. (I don’t think having teenage boys is helping me in this department…)

Then, I happen to catch a glance at myself in the mirror and realize that I’m quite a bit older than how I feel in my brain. Sometimes, that depresses me. I want to feel like I still have a lot of life left in me and before me—that I haven’t reached the middle of my existence—but it’s getting harder to ignore.

I know that I’m supposed to say the aches and pains in my body also remind me that I’m no longer young and spry, but I’ve been dealing with chronic back issues since I was 15. Pain is part of my life, so that’s not an indicator of age for me. On the plus side, I haven’t had many new issues, so I count myself lucky in that sense.

I’m Not Dead Yet

Even though there’s a disconnect between the age I feel in my brain and the one in my body, I do my best to remind myself that I’m not dead yet. I may not have as much life left as I did when I was in my 20s, but I’m not knocking on death’s door either (at least not that I know of). If I’m lucky enough to live as long as some of my relatives, I could have another 50 years in me—and there’s a lot I can do in that time.

Perhaps if nothing else, I can use those moments when I’m forced to recognize that I’m a middle-aged woman as a reminder to live each day to the fullest.

Perhaps I should also remind myself that there is nothing wrong with hanging onto the optimism and hopefulness I felt in my mid-20s, even though I’m currently in my 40s.

If there is a good side to realizing I’m 20 years removed from being 25, it’s that I have more experience and wisdom to guide me on the rest of my journey.

Now, I just need to reconcile that realization in my brain.

Defining My Different Selves

The older I get, the more I realize that I’m not just one thing. While the core of my being remains relatively intact and influences my personality and my being, how I define myself depends on where I am and what I’m doing at the time.


It would be easy to say that I’m a Mother, but I’m more than that. I’m also more than a Teacher, an Author, a Daughter, a Sister, and a Friend. I’m all of these things, as well as whatever the people around me want to classify me as.

Finding My Definition(s)

As humans, we have this desire to put ourselves neatly into a box that defines us precisely. It can be scary and confusing if we don’t have a label that gives us a place in the world—or one that makes us feel good.

Within the last few weeks, I have been faced with some incredibly emotional and trying times. During these moments, I gave up part of one of my identities, and it felt weird and uncomfortable. It made me think about what it means to define myself and my place in the world.

Reconsidering One of My Definitions

Not only do I consider myself an author, but I also define myself as a content creator. I use these separate distinctions based on the type of writing I’m doing. I reserve “author” for my fiction and nonfiction writing, while “content creator” applies to the writing I do for clients.

I had been a member of a content mill for a while. I never viewed it as a bad thing because there was always work and I didn’t have to worry about hunting people down to get my money. The pay wasn’t spectacular, but there was an opportunity to meet clients and get direct orders at a price I had set. I actually made some decent money through this site.

I originally signed up for this site back in 2016. I didn’t use it often until about 2 years ago when I was freelancing pretty much full-time. They use a rating system, giving writers from 1 to 4 stars. You can become a 5-star author, but you have to go through a process. I started it, but I never had time to finish it. (Plus, they kept changing the requirements and ways to achieve this coveted goal, so I said forget it and was content with where I was at.)

Since signing up in 2016, I have always been a 4-star author. Every so often, the site would do an audit of my work that could potentially change my rating level. In the past, I’ve always stayed at 4 stars.

Recently, I was dropped to a 3-star author.

It didn’t sit well with me.

It’s important to realize that at this time, I was not in a good place emotionally. I had just received some distressing news about a family member and my son had concussed himself at football practice.

I knew I wasn’t in a good headspace, so I tried to let the rating go. I told myself to give it a day, then I would come back to it.

It’s important to realize that I had been questioning whether or not I wanted to continue writing content. I love that it was able to sustain me for so long, but I’m burning out. It’s not a writing field that changes often, and a lot of the assignments are the same.

This can be both comforting and frustrating.

It’s comforting because since I know what to expect, I can churn out assignments quickly, ensuring I make money. It’s frustrating because it’s boring and time-consuming. Whether I get paid or not, some days I want to stimulate my brain.

The other issue was that the particular site I was on hadn’t had a lot of work lately. I hadn’t written for them in weeks.

While I’m sure there were still some emotions involved, I took my day, then decided to close my account. I told myself that this was my out, my sign that I needed to get out of the game. It wasn’t easy clicking that delete button, but I followed through.

I Lose Part of My Identity

I always knew that as a writer on that particular site, I was a cog in a wheel. I was a faceless creator churning out content that would get businesses noticed on the web. I had to adhere to certain requirements and stipulations, and I had to incorporate keywords properly. I was good at what I did.

I knew I was never going to form close relationships with any of the clients who requested content, but I had at least hoped I was important to the site administrators.

By the time I closed my account, I had written close to (if not more) 1.5 million words. I had made them 1,000s of dollars. I thought that maybe they would send a message and say they were sad to see me go—or at least ask why I was leaving.

But it didn’t happen.

There was nothing but crickets.

That didn’t help my emotional state. Anger crept in.

I felt my feelings for a little while, and then I let them go. Know why? Because that site can never take my accomplishments from me. They may not think that my word count or the amount of money I made was important, but I do.

And I praised myself for the hard work I had put in.

I also reminded myself that the site was no longer giving me what I needed. It wasn’t providing work, and it lowered my rating. It was time to move on—even though it was a challenging decision to make.

My True Self

The emotional distress and this decision got me thinking about my other roles and definitions and how many of them either make me a cog in a wheel or don’t get me any type of recognition.

As a human, I want people to see me. I want to know that I’m part of the larger group and doing something worthwhile, but that doesn’t always happen. In fact, it’s pretty rare that it happens.

But that doesn’t make any of my roles less important.

At the end of the day, as long as I recognize that I am valuable and worthy, that’s all that matters. I may have a lot of ways to define myself, but deep down, I know I’m all of these things and none of them.

I can only take life day by day, and I will define myself in different ways depending on what I’m doing. But underneath it all, I always try to do my best—and that’s all that really matters.

Too Many Silent Stories

At any given moment, in places around the world, people interact with one another in good, bad, and indifferent ways.

Sometimes those moments change a person forever.

Sometimes, the interactions invoke an emotional response.

Other times, they are quickly forgotten.

No matter the outcome, there are always three sides to every story: your side, my side, and the truth.

Everyone perceives an interaction differently. The moment goes through the various filters that a person has created based on their upbringing, values, morals, prejudices, and personality. Their perception of what transpired then becomes reality.

Very rarely do two people see a situation in the same way. Because of who they are and what goes on in their mind, this is impossible. But that doesn’t mean that their perception of the moment is flawed. It’s just another perspective.

Sometimes, depending on what a person has experienced, they have a desire to share the moment with others. Maybe they want advice or an outside opinion about what happened. Maybe they want to share something funny or heartbreaking with a good friend—or even the world. 

Perhaps, they just want to tell a story.

Who Has the Right to Tell the Story?

In a perfect world, everyone would be able to tell their story—whether good, bad, or indifferent. They would be allowed to have a voice and take up space. They would be allowed to express what happened to them and how the moment made them feel.

Unfortunately, we don’t live in a perfect world, so more often than not, people’s stories and experiences are silenced.

One of the biggest reasons this happens is because one of the parties involved in the interaction has carefully constructed a narrative about their life that has led them to believe they are always the hero—not just of their own life, but in the world in general. 

They believe that everything they do is perfect and that they are perfect. If anyone tries to question that narrative or their motives, it distresses them beyond belief.

Everyone is entitled to their feelings. People are also allowed to view themselves in any way they please.

If they want to believe they are the best thing that has ever graced the face of the Earth, who are the rest of us to question them?

If they want to believe that they were left here by aliens and that the mother ship will one day return to pick them up and take them home, who are the rest of us to say that it’s not true?

Again, our perception dictates our reality. It gives us a way to look at and understand the world and ourselves. It gives us meaning. It impacts who we are.

However, the issue arises when we think our perceptions are the only Truth and feel the need to silence others. When one person denies another person the ability to tell their story, this takes away their truth. It makes it seem like their perception of what happened isn’t as valuable or real as what the other person experienced.

Is this fair?

Absolutely not.

Is it right?

No.

But it doesn’t matter if the act falls into these two categories or not.

It happens. All the time.

People are denied the ability to tell their stories because it threatens to undermine or shatter the carefully constructed narratives that many individuals have created. It’s scary to think that you may not be the perfect person you have convinced yourself to be.

Most of the time, the person who has developed this narrative about themselves doesn’t want to face reality, and they certainly don’t want anyone else thinking less of them, so they go out of their way to silence any narrative that portrays them in anything but a perfect light.

A World of Stories

Of course, when it comes to silencing others, most people don’t say, “Don’t tell anyone what happened. I don’t want them to know the real me.”

Oh, no.

They use threats, coercion, gaslighting, and a whole host of other underhanded techniques to ensure that the other person is afraid to tell their side of the story.

A lot of the time, it works.

But…inevitably, the truth will come out.

There will be one person who defies the threats and confusion and lets their voice ring out. When that happens, it encourages others to step forward and share their stories as well. This creates an abundance of storytellers who are no longer afraid to keep their truths hidden.

The world is full of stories. Some are good, some are bad, some are indifferent. Some change the people who were involved, some are easily forgotten.

No matter what category a story falls into, a person should never be afraid to tell what happened to them. After all, it’s part of who they are, it’s how they perceive the world.

The person who hears the story to gets to decide what they do with it (whether they believe it or not or decide to pass it on), but the fact remains that the story happened and that the person it happened to has every right to share their narrative with others.

How Often Do You Have an Existential Crisis?

Last week, as I stood in the shower getting ready for class, it occurred to me that ¾ of my students probably won’t use what I teach them beyond a classroom setting. All the time and effort I put into teaching them how to write, as soon as they can forget that information, they will.

I then started thinking about all of the things I’ve written in my life and about how much of it didn’t contribute to the wellbeing of humanity. Most of the things I’ve written weren’t profound insights or words of encouragement. They were content. They were words that filled the void of the internet.

Naturally, my thoughts then spiraled into wondering what it means to be human and our purpose on this planet. How much was I contributing if all I did was teach something that most people didn’t find useful or create content that can easily be ignored?

Not My First Existential Crisis

I would say that, on average, I have an existential crisis about once a month. This has decreased from a few years ago when every day I was questioning my role in the universe.

Anything can bring about this line of questioning. I can be watching a TV show that will spark a thought about life and make me wonder what it’s all about. I can read something or just sit in silence and think about the nature of humanity and stress about what our roles are and what it all means in the larger scheme of things.

There are emotions that come with having an existential crisis, but they don’t overwhelm and debilitate me like they did before.

In times past, I would feel existential dread, where I would have no confidence in my abilities as an individual or a human. I would feel unworthy and invaluable and view humanity as a waste of space and important universal materials. It would depress me to think I was a member of such a species. I hated where and who I was.

The Wonders of Life

There is still some sadness that comes with the existential questions that roll through my mind, but I don’t automatically swing to the far-end of the spectrum like I have in the past.

I become curious about my thoughts and explore them.

The thought about my students and wasting my time impacted me for half a second, and then I realized that even though they may not use my teachings for the rest of their life, that doesn’t negate the fact that I enjoy doing what I do.

I’m not going to stop teaching.

Existential crises don’t always have to be a bad thing. 

If I’ve learned anything in the past few years, it’s that staying curious and having the desire to explore is what keeps life interesting.

Sure, there may be times when it feels scary or overwhelming or depressing not to know your role, but that’s also the mystery of life. We aren’t meant to have all the answers.

Would it be nice? Absolutely. It may even reduce a lot of stress and anxiety.

But there are ways to make life less arduous without knowing everything.

What Is the Meaning of Life?

The hardest part about an existential crisis is thinking that life has no meaning. It’s the idea that everything we do on a daily basis doesn’t matter.

Honestly, in the scheme of the universe, it may not.

But does that mean we should just give up and stop living?

No.

The best part about being an individual and a human is that we get to choose what we do with our lives. We get to figure out what gives us meaning.

Will that be the same as what others or the universe thinks?

Maybe. But more than likely not. However, that doesn’t make our decisions wrong.

Maybe It Really Is the Little Things

Whenever I have an existential crisis, I treat it as a moment to reflect on what I’m doing and determine if my feelings of unworthiness are actually coming from me or if I’m judging myself against impossible standards.

No matter what I find, I have a chance to change what I’m doing. 

Or not. It’s all up to me.

Maybe life doesn’t have to have meaning. Maybe there’s nothing to figure out. Maybe our only role on Earth is to get from the cradle to the grave in the best way possible. The answers may be intentionally vague so that we have the freedom and ability to explore the way we see fit.

I don’t know. 

I don’t think anyone does. 

And we may never figure it out.

When an existential crisis creeps up on me, one of the things I ask myself is: What do I want to be able to say at the end of my life?

For example, when I questioned why I was teaching, I asked myself: If I was on my deathbed tomorrow and asked myself if teaching was worth it to me, what would my answer be?

For that particular topic, I would have no regrets. I would revel in the fact that I got to meet so many amazing students and impart my wisdom to them. Whether they used it later in life or not, it was still a skill they could use if they wanted to—and I was a part of their journey.

As I said, I probably have an existential crisis once a month, but I no longer dread these moments. Now, I use them as a time to reflect and determine if I’m on the path that’s right for me. As scary as this type of crisis might be, it’s also a chance to figure my life out.

Our So-So Trip to the Stanley Hotel

The first week of August, my boys and I headed to Colorado for a family reunion. We weren’t scheduled to meet the rest of the family until Tuesday, so we headed out a day early to stay at the Stanley Hotel.

 

For those who are unfamiliar with what this is, it’s the property that inspired the Stephen King story The Shining. It’s a historic hotel nestled in the mountains of Estes, Colorado. It’s said to be incredibly haunted.

While I knew about the King story, that wasn’t the appeal of going to the hotel. My oldest really enjoys Ghost Hunters (as do I), and the TAPS team has been there on several occasions, so he wanted to check it out. I’ve wanted to go since I was in college, so I thought this was the perfect opportunity.

It’s Not as Isolated as it Once (Or Ever?) Was

While driving to the hotel, I had visions that the hotel would be isolated from the rest of the city and surrounded by the mountain. While at one time that might have been true, it’s pretty much right in the middle of the action. There’s a grocery store you can walk to from the property.

It’s definitely not isolated.

That’s not to say that it’s not a cool place. It is surrounded by mountains (but mostly houses), and it rises from the road in grand majesty. I got chills as we pulled around the corner and the hotel came into view.

It had taken us about 7.5 hours to reach our destination, so by the time we got there, after our initial oohs and aahs, I wanted to check into our room to lay down for a little while. We entered the building and looked for the front desk. It’s not set up intuitively—at least not the way we entered—so we stood next to the Tours desk for a while so that I could ask where we needed to go.

Remember, I was already a bit punchy from being on the road all day, and waiting to talk to the person behind the desk didn’t improve my mood.

The guests that were being helped were having a tough time deciding what tour they wanted to go on. I figured that the other three people behind the desk wearing red shirts might want to assist people, but I was wrong. They were much happier talking amongst themselves.

Apparently, with only one computer to make sales, the only person who can interact with guests is the person sitting behind the screen.

As I stood there, I realized that the front desk was up the stairs to the right, so we headed up. We got there just in time for one person to duck into a room on the left-hand side, and another person (I’m guessing she was a trainee) to stand in front of the door and completely ignore me.

Trainee or not, how hard is it to acknowledge that someone is standing at the desk, literally staring at you?

Another employee entered the door from the right and walked behind the front desk, also ignoring me.

By this time, I was getting super irritated.

Finally, the only person who apparently could talk to guests came out of the room and walked up to her computer. When I told her we wanted to check in, she informed me that we aren’t even staying in the Stanley proper; we were in one of the outbuildings near the entrance. But we couldn't check in until 4:00.

It was about 3:15, 3:20 at this point in time.

I get the directions to where we need to go (it wasn’t far), then we walk around the properly for a while before heading down to the other building to see if we could check in.

We had to wait until 4:00 on the dot, but then we got into our room.

I Never Got the Chance to Lay Down

I was not exactly thrilled when we walked into the room. It was super small, with the bed taking up the vast majority of the space and barely enough room to walk around it. The bathroom was decent, with a soaker tub and nice shower, but we weren’t going to be sleeping in the bathroom.

The room was also freezing.

I pushed the buttons to change the temp, only to have a locked padlock flash at me, indicating that I couldn’t make it warmer.

I lifted the phone to talk to the front desk, but no one answered.

I had to get a few more things out of the car, so I decided to stop on my way and talk to the receptionist.

I was trying super hard to keep my emotions in check, but I was full-out annoyed and frustrated at this point. She put in a call to Engineering, and they would meet me in my room.

I grabbed my stuff and headed back upstairs. The boys decided they wanted to explore, so they headed out to find the pool.

Engineering came and let me know that there was no way they could unlock the thermostat, so they just turned it off. They said the temperature should remain where it was at, but I could open the window if I needed to. That sounded like it would be fine; it was raining, which meant it was pretty cool. And who doesn’t want fresh mountain air wafting over them as they sleep?

I would come to regret that later.

The Amenities Weren’t Bad

Right after the Engineers left, the boys came back to let me know they had found the pool and wanted to go swimming. It was an outdoor pool, and it was still raining, but they weren’t going to let that stop them. They were going to experience everything the hotel had to offer.

The pool and hot tub were nice. Eventually, the rain stopped, and the boys got to enjoy the amenities. There was also a weight room, some saunas, and a sunken gym (none of which we used).

 
I was super hungry at this point, so the boys got ready, and we went to one of the restaurants on the Stanley campus. It was fine. Nothing to rave or complain about.

A Night Ghost Tour

One of the offerings at the Stanley is the ability to go on a ghost tour. These run all day, about every 20 minutes, but I thought a night one would be more fun. I didn’t want it to be too late, as I knew I was going to be tired, so I settled on 8:00.

The email said you are supposed to check in 15 to 20 minutes before your scheduled tour, but when we got there, we were told we couldn’t check in until 5 minutes before our scheduled time. We had to kill 15 to 20 minutes, so we walked through the “hedge maze” (which took us 2 minutes), then went and sat in the coffee shop until it was 5 minutes to 8:00.

The tour wasn’t bad. You go to a couple of different places on the campus and hear stories about the ghosts who may be haunting the area. You’re supposed to take a ton of pictures in the hope that something paranormal shows up. I took some, but I wasn’t going to go overboard. My boys took several as well.

These three photos are of the concert hall, which is supposedly one of the most haunted buildings on the Stanley campus. We were up in the balcony looking down as stories were told.

These are posters on display in the balcony of the concert hall.

A prop in the concert hall.

A super old mirror that supposedly attracts/reflects paranormal activity.

These are tunnels underneath the hotel. They were used by employees to move laundry and other stuff without being seen by the guests. 

By the time the hour-long tour had ended, I was exhausted, so we headed back to the room.

And stepped into an oven.

It was so freaking hot in there. But Engineering was gone, so we couldn’t get the air turned back on. We opened the window, but there was no mountain air flowing in.

There was only a king bed in the room because I had thought that there would be space for us to inflate the air mattress. I was wrong.

Long story short, no one slept very well—and it wasn’t because we were being bothered by spirits.

Overall Impressions of the Stanley Hotel

Seeing the Stanley as we drove up from the road was amazing. Once I got inside, I realized that the place was a tourist hotspot—and there were a lot of tourists. It felt super chaotic and out of control, and with so much activity, the employees were oblivious and uncaring about the wants and needs of guests.

I was disappointed that our room wasn’t in the Stanley proper. For as much as it cost, I would have assumed we’d get the full experience.

I was irritated that I couldn’t control the temperature in the room and learned that next time I walk into a room that’s super cold, I’ll just put on a sweatshirt and pants. Don’t want to get “burned” by that again.

We didn’t experience anything supernatural, but I really didn’t think we would. With as many people as there are on the property, the ghosts probably retreat to a quiet place and do their own people watching.

If nothing else, I can say I’ve been to the Stanley Hotel.

Did the Core Update Break the Internet?

For many, many years, I enjoyed a lucrative career as a content creator. There were times when it was my main source of income, and others when it was supplemental. I wrote blog posts, guest posts, articles, product pages, landing pages, press releases, and more for a variety of clients across several different industries. I’ve worked for agencies and on platforms.

In 2020, when more people started working from home, I became a bit worried that I wouldn’t be able to find enough writing jobs to stay afloat. It didn’t take long for me to realize that fear was unfounded. There was plenty for everybody.

Finding writing jobs never seemed to be an issue.

Until recently.

Work Is Drying Up

Around the middle of July was when I first noticed that writing jobs were getting a bit scarce. When speaking to a client, I was told that they had just examined their analytics, and their page visitation was down, which led to marketing budget cuts. They weren’t sure if or when they’d have work again, but it could be several months down the road.

This wasn’t the last client to be slow when it came to sending me work.

I also noticed that on a lot of platforms that work was dwindling.

I was curious to know why, so I did some research.

I found out that Google had done a core update at the end of May. 

What Is a Core Update?

I don’t have the exact definition of what a core update is, but—essentially—it’s an update that Google does to ensure that it’s providing relevant information to searchers.

Core updates ensure that information can be found quickly and that the latest trends are taken into consideration. The core update in May isn’t the first, and it won’t be the last.

One thing that became apparent is that when Google does these updates, it has an impact on how websites are found. In some cases, that means that sites that have enjoyed being at the top of the list suddenly drop off. Those that were at the bottom now find themselves at the top.

Google’s intention isn’t to punish any particular business for doing what they do (as far as I know), but things change over time, including what people are looking for and how they are looking for it. Google wants to remain relevant, so they update to be useful to their audience.

Technically, businesses should be doing the same.

Is the Core Update to Blame?

One of the things that seems to be incredibly frustrating when Google does a core update is that they don’t release how their will impact websites—only that there will more than likely be an impact. This makes sense because I’m sure Google doesn’t really know what those impacts will be.

This means that if you’re a company that sees a significant drop in page views, you may not know why. Sure, it may be because of the core update, but you’re not given any guidance or advice on how to fix the issue.

You can find general information from Google, such as to make sure you’re providing relevant information on your site, using SEO to your advantage, and making sure your content is well-written.

For some, this isn’t exactly beneficial—especially if they feel like they’ve been abiding by these guidelines since they’ve been offering content.

In some cases, I would say that the core update is absolutely to blame for the drop in demand for content. Staying relevant means continuously offering people a reason to come to your site, but if the content you have isn’t drawing them in, then you aren’t making sales to add funds to your marketing budget.

If the budget is getting smaller, then you have to make sure you’re spending your money wisely, which means finding out exactly what Google is prioritizing and how its bots are conducting searches.

The Dry Spell Shouldn’t Last Forever

With the core update happening in May, it makes sense that by the middle of July, companies were seeing how it had impacted their page views. It takes time for the changes to take place and for the data to be analyzed.

I can only imagine that for those businesses that saw a drop in visitation, that had to have been quite the shock. I have no doubts that the knee-jerk reaction to those lower numbers was to pull money and redirect efforts to campaigns they knew would be successful.

But like everything in life, nothing lasts forever, and this won’t either.

As soon as people find out what the Google bots are looking for, they can adjust their content to once again be found online. The internet is constantly changing, so this is nothing new, and those businesses that know how to weather the storm will find a way.

In the meantime, it sucks for those of us who make money creating content. I’m sure the dry spell won’t last long for us either, but until then, we have to find a way to struggle through without money coming in.

Keeping My Hopes Up

Thankfully, content creation was supplemental for me at this point. If it had been my main source of funds, there would have been quite a bit more panic in this post.

Still, I have to say that it’s kind of weird not writing on a daily basis. Like I said, it’s something I’ve done for years and years. I enjoy creating online content for companies. The income may have been supplemental, but it was still nice to have money coming in.

I’m sure if I looked hard enough, I would be able to find some writing jobs. There are certain industries that always have content needs, so I could always write for them. I don’t because I burned out on that type of content a while ago.

I could also take jobs that don’t pay very well. But if given the option of taking really low paying jobs or not working and hanging out with my kids before school starts, I choose the latter.

I have the luxury of being picky when it comes to the content creation jobs I take, but I know not everyone does.

It’s scary and weird right now with the lack of content creation jobs available, but I’m holding out hope that it won’t last forever. As soon as the industries figure out what they need to do to be found online again, they’ll need content to help them achieve their goals.

 

 

Well-Worn Paths

Several months ago, my brother and I were discussing the different routes an author could take to advertise their book. As we talked, it made me realize how much the publishing world has changed in the past 13 years.

When I mentioned that, he said, “There are no book marketing roads that aren’t well-worn paths.”

And he couldn’t be more right.

The Beginning of My Book Publishing Journey

My first book was published in 2009. While indie presses weren’t exactly new back then, they were often called “vanity presses,” and they were looked upon with disdain. The thought process was that any publisher that asked you to pay to have your book published wasn’t a real publisher.

There were some “small presses” that didn’t charge for this service, but they didn’t give out advances either. They were also looked down upon because they weren’t “real publishers.” They weren’t going to make any author a success, but they would get their stories into the world (where, hopefully, someone would notice and buy them).

Amazon wasn’t a big player at this time. Sure, a small press could get your book on the site and this might garner you some sales, but Amazon hadn’t yet blown up into what we know it as today.

Marketing Options

Ten plus years ago, the marketing avenues for indie authors were wide open. Twitter hadn’t yet gotten flooded with people, and there were a lot of other social media sites that you could become members of that weren’t as big or crowded as Facebook.

Think My Space, but not My Space. Most of those other places were more like discussion boards and you joined groups that interested you. Those still exist today, of course, but they were different back then; smaller and more intimate.

YouTube was also a good place to advertise your book, and creating book trailers was all the rage. I only had one professionally made because it was all I could afford at the time. I thought the process was weird, they are books, but marketing online is different, and people wanted videos because they were quick and easy to digest.

The Next 5 Years

After getting my first book published in 2009, I put out a book fairly regularly every year after. This was another marketing strategy because they said that to attract and retain readers, you had to produce. I had a lot of stories in me, so I put them on the page and sent them out into the world.

About 2016, I decided to switch publishers. By this point in time, they were referred to as “indie publishers.” Sure, you could still find “vanity publishers” (technically, you still can today as well), but the small publishers were getting a little more love. They did have the ability to make huge careers, and they were giving the Big 5 (or is it 6? Or maybe 3? It’s so hard to keep up anymore) a run for their money.

Amazon was getting more into the publishing game at this point. Around this time, they offered KDP. You could upload your books and get paid out of a pool of funds when members read your story.

2016 was a good year to be a KDP author. I had two books enlisted at that point, Life After the Undead and Death to the Undead. While I wasn’t raking in enough money to become an author full-time, I wasn’t upset about the payments that came in. They almost made it worthwhile to be an indie-published author.

Then, the indie publisher I was working with unexpectedly closed its doors. That left a lot of authors in a lurch, and many of us were scrambling to find a way to ensure our books stayed available to readers.

Amazon offered its self-publishing services at this time, so I decided to give it a try. With the ability to upload both ebooks and print books, Amazon seemed like the answer to my prayers. I decided to go this route for several of my books. Eventually, all of my books became self-published (but that was still a few years down the road).

Promoting Myself

During these next 5 years, book marketing started to become a bit tougher. The “My Space”-like sites started to disappear, mainly because they weren’t getting a lot of traffic. Facebook definitely became the reigning king, and there was a push for authors to create a Business Page to promote their work.

Twitter was becoming more popular, and it was getting easier and easier to get lost in the crowd. YouTube was blowing up with other content, so book trailers fell out of favor. Although, I’m sure you can still find some on there today.

In an attempt to make sure my stories were getting attention, I looked for different ways to promote myself. That’s when being a guest on podcasts became a thing, and I developed in-person workshops and presentations.

I still lived in Wyoming at this time, and I traveled quite extensively. I offered my presentations/workshops for free at first, but when they started becoming more popular, I asked for money—and I got paid to do them.

That changed when we moved to Nebraska. Getting into libraries and high schools was more challenging, but I did go to a few. Then, 2020 hit, and I don’t need to explain how that shut down in-person everything.

Still Holding Out Hope for Indie Publishers

Even though I had a few of my books self-published on Amazon, I still held out hope that working with an indie publisher was going to help me get the big break I was looking for. It felt more legitimate than being “self-published.” I was able to get one of my books into a bookstore (Humanity’s Hope in a locally owned bookstore in Omaha), but I never made any sales.

I did a few book fairs and continued to go to conferences and conventions. Most of that continued right up until 2020. Things slowed down a few years before due to personal issues, and then everything just came to a screeching halt.

Eventually, I got all of my book rights back and self-published them all. That hasn’t worked out the way I had hoped.

Reviews Are (Or Were) Where It’s At 

One of the other things that was pushed really hard back in the day (and still to an extent now) was book reviews. Amazon used reviews as a way to promote products, particularly books, so getting as many reviews from people as possible was essential.

This became a big business, and authors could buy reviews to post on their Amazon site. As you can imagine, this became incredibly problematic. Any author who paid for reviews was looked down upon. You were supposed to get them in the “traditional” way. Paying for them was viewed as cheating.

The business of reviews led to rule changes, and depending on the type of review that was left on Amazon, it could actually hurt you. Reviews were taken down that didn’t adhere to Amazon’s new rules, and it all felt willy-nilly and Big Brother-y. It caused such a kerfuffle.

During this time, being on Goodreads was the answer to reviews being taken down at Amazon. It was a platform that allowed readers and authors to connect and talk and recommend, without being policed.

Then, Amazon bought Goodreads. I don’t know that that merger necessarily ruined it, but I don’t think it made it better. Now, it’s just kind of a cesspool of badly behaved individuals—both readers and authors. The only reason I use it anymore is to keep track of the books I’m currently reading. I haven’t checked reviews or ratings for any of my books in years.

Things Were So Much Better Back in the Day…

The only reason I say this is because back in the day when I was a newly published author, all of the marketing avenues that were open were still fresh and new. Other authors were using them, but they weren’t so saturated that it was hard to get noticed.

Now, those avenues have become well-worn paths. They still might be beneficial, but you have to know how to stand out from the crowd and make yourself known.

Even Amazon has become less helpful in recent years. KDP was so amazing and lucrative in the beginning, but with so many authors vying for attention, the amount of money an author gets for reads has shrunk considerably—assuming anyone can find your story in the first place. And it seems like no one recommends KDP anymore because the membership fees aren’t worth it.

I’m sure Kindle Vella is Amazon’s attempt at finding yet another way to get more money, and I’m sure right now, it’s a worthwhile endeavor. But it won’t take long before that market becomes saturated and authors stop making money.

Correction: before most authors stop making money. There will be a select few that roll in the dough while everyone else fights over the scraps.

I’m sure some cutting-edge marketing options will open up, and once a few people find success and make some sales, the rest of the writing world will rush to whatever it is and suck the life out of it.

I’ve heard that authors were talking to influencers on Instagram and trying to get them to promote their work. Same with TikTok. I know there’s also some bookish thing on TikTok, but I haven’t checked it out. I don’t feel the need. It’ll become worn out much too soon.

Bucking the Trends

Back in the day, I spent a lot of time doing what I could to make sure my work was seen. I dedicated a lot of time (and spent a lot of money) promoting myself and my work—all while having a full-time job and raising a family.

I don’t regret what I did. I thought it was going to lead me somewhere. I thought eventually my hard work and effort would pay off.

Unfortunately, those well-worn paths led to dead ends.

Of course, it didn’t help that I faded away. Life became too overbearing, and something had to give. Book marketing and promotion were at the top of that list.

I’ve considered getting back into it. But I can’t justify the amount of time and money it will take. Even in my heyday with all of my promotions, I never made it as a “big time” author. I never received a return on my investment.

That’s not to say I didn’t have a lot of fun—because I did. 

I loved meeting people and talking about nerdy things at the conventions, conferences, high schools, and libraries I attended. There are so many fascinating and wonderful people in the world, and I don’t regret spending my time with them.

Maybe I wasn’t a good enough salesperson.

Maybe I didn’t push my books enough.

There are so many what-ifs.

At this point, I can’t even get people to read my stories for free on Wattpad. But I don’t push them too much, either. I’m of the mind that if someone wants to check it out, they will.

I’m in the process of taking all of my stories down from Amazon (except the paperbacks) and uploading them to Wattpad. I’m sure it won’t matter, but it makes me feel better.

My Experience Is Not Yours  

The paths are well-worn, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t travel down them. Like I said, you never know what’s going to get you or your stories noticed.

For me, the journey is too exhausting.

I don’t think I’ll stop writing; I’m getting back to the point where I enjoy the process, but I’m done trying to get the world to notice me.

No one can take away the time and effort I put into creating a story. I will always have that accomplishment under my belt. I don’t need the validation from others to know that what I accomplished took a lot.

If nothing else, I’m proud of me.

My work is out there for people to check out, but if they don’t, at least I can open my Wattpad page, look at my stories, and say, “I wrote that.”

The Consequences of Coerced Evolution

I’ve been busy for the past several months. I had a story rattling around in my brain, so I decided to write it down. After doing some edits, I then decided to share it with the world.

My latest urban fantasy story, The Consequences of Coerced Evolution, is now available for consumption on Wattpad.

Like with The Art of Tearing Down Houses, I’m trying something new with this one. I didn’t want to go the regular publishing route, mainly because I don’t have the time or desire to put myself through that process.

I’m going to do another blog post with more of an explanation about this.

Until then, I hope you check out the story and offer some feedback on what you think. I’d really appreciate it.

Here’s what the story is about:

Evi was born into high expectations, but she found herself unable to live up to the standards. Cast out, she wondered if she’d ever feel loved and accepted again.

Then, she met Liam.

Falling for him was easy. His good looks drew her in, and his kindness kept her wanting more. Being in his presence brought about feelings of comfort and familiarity, and Evi wasn’t about to let those go.

But she isn’t the only one who is awed by what Liam has to offer.

Dark forces have taken an interest in Liam and want to use him for their own nefarious plans. Evi might very well be the key to Liam’s salvation, but she doesn’t know if she’s strong enough to take on the task. If she fails, she won’t be the only one who gets destroyed. Worlds might fall with her.

Here’s a taste of what you’ll find within the “pages”:

PROLOGUE

Evika’s fingers turned white as she tightened her grip on the inside of her forearm. Pain burned through her extremity. She knew what came next, and she didn’t want to see it, but she couldn’t pull her eyes away from her limb. It started slow, with just a trickle of red-black liquid that oozed from between her fingers. Then, it gained momentum, and the trickles turned into rivers. White lights flashed at the edges of her vision, her breathing came in rasps. She thought she heard someone call her name, but the rush of blood in her ears made it impossible for her to tell.

Her body jostled, weakening her grip on her arm. With spastic movements, she tried to grip her limb again, but her fingers slipped on the blood. Her vision blurred, and the color green rushed toward her face. Unable to stop the progress, she pitched forward. The green was replaced by black.



A soft, rhythmic clicking penetrated into Evika’s ears, making her aware of the darkness. She blinked—or she thought she did—attempting to clear her vision to figure out where she was. It didn’t help. Darkness continued to engulf her, but the clicking gave her something to cling to. She strained to focus her hearing on the sound, hoping it would pull her back into the world. The sound grew slightly louder, then faded altogether. Panic gripped Evika’s chest. Without the sound, how would she ever find her way back to where she’d been? She attempted to sit up, only to realize that she couldn’t feel her body. Hopelessness and despair replaced the panic, as did the slightest hint of fear.

“She…come…okay.”

A faint, choppy voice penetrated into Evika’s skull, pulling her out of her misery and giving her something else to cling to.

“Not…worried about.”

Another voice, another tether to a realm that wasn’t a deep void.

“...not the first time…too many mistakes…liability.”

A warning bell went off in Evika’s brain, and she realized that clinging to these voices wasn’t going to be her salvation. She had to get away from them, pretend she hadn’t heard them, but where could she go? She was already lost with nothing else to strive for. If only she had access to her body; then she could turn away and escape her fate.

“I…no…want her here.”

The despair that Evika had felt before engulfed her, like a thick, heavy blanket that settled over her body and threatened to suffocate her. Part of her brain wanted to scream out, to fight the decree, but the other part had resolved itself to its fate. That part turned into the darkness and reached out its arms to embrace it. Right before she slipped back under, Evika thought for sure she had felt a tear land on her cheek.



White light penetrated into Evika’s eyelids. With reluctance, she squeezed her eyes tighter shut, as if that would somehow make the brightness go away. When it didn’t, she attempted to roll over, only to find that action thwarted as well. Pain radiated through her body, causing an involuntary groan to escape from her lips. Surprise washed through her as she became aware that she once again had access to her body. With effort, she attempted to crack open an eye.

Whiteness flooded her vision, causing a spike of pain to stab through her head. She closed her eye once again, and the shooting pain dulled into a throbbing ache. Taking a deep breath, she counted to 10 before attempting to open her eye once again. The whiteness flooded back in, as did the pain, but after a few seconds, blurry, dark shapes materialized in her line of sight. She couldn’t make out what they were, but she knew they were inanimate objects that wouldn’t hurt her. At about that same time, sound entered her ears; the soft wooshing of an oxygen machine, as well as voices somewhere in the distance.

More sensations crept into her body. A cool breeze touched her left arm, a mattress cradled her body. Plastic pressed against her nose, and when she lifted her hand to find out what it was, she felt the roundness of oxygen tubing. Her vision continued to clear, and the shadows became more distinct. It didn’t take long for Evika to realize that she was in a hospital room. She attempted to sit up, but her body refused to cooperate, and pain flooded through her. She laid back down with a grunt.

A soft squeak filled her ears, followed by the rolling scrape of metal beads against a metal rod. The curtain around her bed was pulled back, revealing a young woman with dark hair secured in a bun wearing purple scrubs. When her eyes met Evika’s, she took an involuntary step back.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t think you’d be awake.” Professionalism took over at that moment, and she moved forward with a purpose. She grabbed the remote to the bed and lifted the top so that Evika sat in a more upright position.

“How are you feeling?”

Evika tried to answer, but her tongue felt too large for her mouth.

“Let me get you some water.” She reached around behind the bed and grabbed a cup with a straw.

The cool water instantly relieved the swelling in Evika’s tongue, but she still wasn’t convinced she could talk. Not that it mattered. The nurse didn’t seem to have any more questions, and instead pulled the tray from the side of the bed and moved it so that it went across Evika’s midsection. She set the cup on the surface, along with the TV remote and the controller for the bed.

“Push the button if you need anything. The doctor will be in shortly to check up on you.” The woman turned on her heel and closed the curtain with a metallic whoosh as she stepped out of the room.

With her vision completely clear, Evika took in her body. The blankets from the bed were pulled up to her chest, covering the thin, scratchy hospital gown that she was dressed in. Her left arm was beneath the covers, keeping time with her heartbeat. She stared at the lump her arm made beneath the blanket, wondering if she truly wanted to pull it out and survey the damage, then decided to get the moment over with.

Evika wasn’t sure what she had expected to see, but before her was a bright white bandage that covered her from wrist to elbow and had been secured with surgical tape. The movement caused pain to shoot through her arm, and she laid her limb on the bed and turned away. She squeezed her eyes shut, and every ache and pain in her body became apparent. She felt the edge of the bruise that had formed on her right shoulder blade. Her knees ached from where they had slammed into the ground. Her low back was on fire from bending and contorting to counteract the lunges and advances of her opponent. Her head throbbed from the blow that knocked her enough off balance for her attacker to move in for the fateful attack.

She opened her eyes and let them fall once again onto the bandage on her arm. With slow, deliberate movements, she reached forward and touched the surface with her other hand. Her pink fingers trembled. The covering felt slick and soft beneath her fingertips. She held her breath, but when she could no longer deny her lungs oxygen, she let out a heaving sigh that was followed by streams of tears.

No matter how much she wanted to deny it, she couldn’t. The bandage, the nurse, the hospital room—it all pointed to one thing. She’d been banished. She’d failed. The scar that would forever adorn her arm would mark her shame. She should have seen it coming. She should have known she wasn’t ready. But she hadn’t had a choice. She had been expected to prove herself. She’d never get the chance to overcome this defeat.

Evika let her fingers slip from the bandage. She leaned her head back against the pillow, letting her gaze drift up to the tiled ceiling. She let the tears flow until they clouded her vision, then she squeezed her eyes shut and begged the darkness to once again overtake her.

For the Love

Within the world of creatives, there is a debate about whether or not they should share their work “for the love.”

What this means is that after creating a piece of art (in any medium), many places will publish it for them for recognition instead of money.

“For the love” means to create solely for the love of creating.

I’ve been on both sides of this debate, and the answer as to whether someone should create “for the love” isn’t as simple as it may sound. There are a lot of nuances to consider, and opinions about whether or not this is an acceptable practice can change over time.

It Takes Time and Effort to Create

One of the main reasons that people argue against creating art “for the love” is that it takes time and effort.

And this is true.

In many cases, the creator has also gone to school to hone their craft, which means they are educated in their field. More than likely, they are also still paying off that education, so any type of income to help with that endeavor is welcome.

Let’s also not forget to mention that artists also have to pay bills and eat, so getting money for those things is essential.

Being a creator is a profession just like being a doctor, lawyer, or [insert whatever job you want to include here]. Just because it may be more enjoyable than these other positions doesn’t mean that the person shouldn’t get paid. It’s not their fault they found something that makes them happy and earns them an income.

For whatever reason, there is this widely accepted belief that art should be created for the masses and that the artist getting recognized for what they’ve done should be enough. It ties into the idea of the starving artist or the person who creates with the goal of bringing beauty to the world—both of which could apply, but these don't have to be the standard.

Creators do want to create something beautiful, as well as share their vision of the world with others, but they also want to make this a viable, sustainable way of life. They should be compensated for what they do.

They may create because they love to, but they also create to make a living.

Artistic Creation is Often Impulsive

Another reason why people say that creators shouldn’t get paid for their work is because they are going to create it anyway. Creativity is often a compulsion that has to be undertaken; otherwise, the artist will go crazy.

I mean…that’s true to a point.

Creators do feel compelled to create, but just because they were going to make something in the first place, that doesn’t give anyone the right to claim it as theirs without due compensation—and that goes beyond recognition.

There is such a thing as copyright in the U.S., so whether the creation was done compulsively or not, the rights still belong to the artist. If you want it for whatever reason, you need to pay the price.

When “For the Love” Might Be Acceptable

For the most part, I truly believe that artists should be monetarily compensated for their work. As I said, this is a skill that they have honed through time and education, and if it’s coveted by others, it’s worth something more than a pat on the back and their name in a prominent place.

However, I also believe that there are times when creating “for the love” is also acceptable.

For example, maybe they are approached by a charity and asked to create something for a fundraiser. If the creator believes in the cause and wants to help the charity raise money, they have every right to donate their work.

Perhaps they are new to the field and are trying to get their name out there. Getting their work published in different places without getting paid could be a good way to achieve that goal.

Maybe they’ve been in the creation game for a long time and have never seen a return on their investment. Maybe they’ve jumped through all the hoops and did all the things they were told to do, but they never made it big.

At that point, maybe they are tired of playing the game and trying to make money for their creations, but they still feel the compulsion to create. If they are so inclined, they may decide to continue doing what they enjoy “for the love.”

Basically, it all boils down to personal preference.

An artist can choose for themselves whether or not they want to charge for their work or if they want to give it away for free—and they can change their mind about these preferences at any time in their career.

Cheapening the Field?

For a lot of people, the drive for creators to always get compensated for their work stems from the idea that if they don’t, it will cheapen the field. Not getting paid will continue the thought process that art should be free and accessible to all.

I understand that side of the argument, and I can see why they think the way they think, but this isn’t something that’s going to change any time soon.

For many creators, there is a desperation to get noticed. They want the world to see what they’ve done, and getting their work out there may mean doing it for recognition instead of money. The hope is that one day, they’ll become so famous and adored that they will be able to make money on their creations.

The number of creators isn’t dwindling, it’s growing. That means that getting noticed is only getting harder.

At the end of the day, there is enough space in this world for all of the creations to have a place. Whether or not that means the creator is going to make a livable wage from their work…well, that’s to be seen.

Art is something that should be shared with others, but only the creator gets to decide how they want to be recognized.

If they are fine with creating “for the love,” it’s really no one else’s business to tell them they’re wrong.

What Is Your Pain Worth?

For a long time, I thought the world owed me. 

After all the hardships and strife I’d been through, I wanted compensation. I wanted people to pay for how they had contributed to my heartache and pain — and I wanted different things from different people.

• Money
• An apology
• Time

I often fantasized about what I would do once I got these things. In many cases, because I was still angry, I would use the moment to seek vengeance and let the person know how horrible they were. I would say all of the things that I had wanted to say right to their face so that they could feel as bad as I did.

My anger grew when I didn’t get the compensation I thought I deserved. I spiraled down into depression. I became stuck.

Patience IS a Virtue

Then, as time passed and I dove into self-healing, I let a lot of that stuff go. I looked deep within myself and figured out exactly what it was that I wanted from these people, and it wasn’t money or an apology or time.

It became apparent that I wasn’t going to get any of that.

At first, it was really hard to accept that. It didn’t seem right. It wasn’t fair. Where was the justice?

And then I realized that hanging on was keeping me miserable. All of the people that I wanted these things from had moved on. They left me in the dust and never looked back. I needed to do the same.

I want to take a moment and say that my letting go is not the same as forgiving. There’s still a part of me that isn’t ready to do that.

Yes, I’m fully aware that forgiveness isn’t actually for the other person, it’s for me. And if that’s true, then I get to decide when I’m ready. In some cases, I may never be.

I’ll also tell you that even if I forgive, I won’t forget.

It was hard for me to be patient, to trust in the healing process, and to even believe that Karma would play a role. In my grief and pain, I wanted recompense NOW!

But with the passage of time, it has become apparent that being patient — especially with myself — does pay off.

I have grown and healed so much over the past few years, and while I still have heartache and pain, it doesn’t shut me down like it used to. Being able to let go of needing payment for my pain has allowed me to move forward and see the world in a different light.

I’m free of the burden of needing something that I’ll never get.

A Legacy of Pain and Fear

As humans, the two things that drive our actions day in and day out are pain and fear.

Don’t believe me? Take a look at one day in your life, even yesterday, and tell me what you did.

Did you get up and go to work? Why? Because you were AFRAID that if you didn’t you wouldn’t have the money to pay the bills or that you’d get fired and people would judge you?

That’s just one example. I’m sure you can find many others in one day.

You don’t need to feel guilty or ashamed about being driven by these two emotions. The vast majority of us are.

In fact, one of the reasons we’re so focused on finding happiness is because it’s PAINFUL to live a life that isn’t filled with joy and positivity. We feel BAD if we aren’t striving for the ideal of happiness.

But it’s not sustainable. No emotion — whether good or bad — lasts forever. But we don’t want to experience pain, so we bend over backward to not have to feel it.

My need for compensation was driven by pain and fear. Each situation was slightly different, but those two emotions were at the core. I believed that by getting what I needed, the pain and fear would go away.

I only prolonged them by wanting something I would never get.

A lot of people have this same thought process. I’m not the first, and I won’t be the last. And it can drive people to do some really horrific things. Combined with that is also the need to be seen — the desire to have others validate and support. That was one of the things that drove me as well.

Pain and fear are in our wiring, and they are part of the legacy of being human.

Overcoming the Programming

None of us can get rid of pain and fear completely. They serve a role in our survival; they keep us alive.

However, it’s possible to undo the programming in our bodies and brains and make it so that the pain and fear aren’t always in control. It takes a lot of hard work, and it requires going deeper into the pain and fear than most people want.

But when you come out on the other end, you’ve learned a lot about yourself and what you want out of life.

The journey is different for everyone, but for me, I was able to free myself from a lot of things that were holding me back.

My pain IS worth something, but it’s not what I thought I wanted/needed. Only I know my value, and only I can give myself what I deserve.

I’m doing my best to see that I’m taken care of.

Staying Open to New Opportunities

Lately, I’ve been seeing a lot of posts that focus on knowing your worth.

The first one told a story about a guy playing the violin in the subway. He attracted the attention of some people and made a few dollars, but nothing major.

Turns out this guy was a world-famous violinist who the night before had played to a sold-out crowd at the local theater. He made a lot of money, so it wasn’t like he needed the pittance he got from the passersby in the subway.

The second was about the price of bottled water and how it varies whether you’re in Walmart, at the airport, getting it from a vending machine, etc.

The point of both of these posts was to say that where you are determines your worth. If you feel like you aren’t being recognized for your talents or your true self, then maybe you’re in the wrong place.

When I first read these, they made sense but didn’t have much of an impact.

It hasn’t been until recently that it has really hit me how true those stories are.

Doing What I Can, When I Can

I’m not particularly thrilled about where I’m currently at, but it’s not like I have the option to pick up and move. My boys have lives here, and moving teens is out of the question. I don’t need to create trauma if it’s not necessary.

So, I have to do what I can, when I can.

What does that mean?

Well, first and foremost, it means taking stock of my options. I may not be able to physically move from my location (at the moment), but I have ways of venturing outside of my current environment.

The internet allows me to be connected to people from all over the world. But I don’t frequent a lot of social sites. Places like Facebook and Instagram have become a hotbed of ickiness, which isn’t good for my mental health, so I limit my time and interactions on them.

I’m more into connecting with others on a deeper level, so I’ve gotten involved with groups. That has been an eye-opening and mainly positive experience.

I’m also looking toward the future, which is kind of a new venture for me. For so long, it was all I could do to get through the present moment, but it’s really dawned on me that the boys are getting older and their independence is starting to shine through (sometimes to my chagrin), so I’ve started thinking about what life might be like once they have moved out of the house.

Keeping an Open Mind

Since my crystal ball is broken, I have no idea what the future will actually hold, but I’ve been doing my best to keep an open mind. The world feels very unstable and unsafe at the moment, but I tell myself that it won’t last forever. I’ve also been letting the happenings sink into my being and really thinking about how I feel about what’s going on.

These moments of connecting to myself have helped me discover more about who I am and what I want out of life.

My youngest is 13, which means that in 5 years, he’s going to be moving on and living his own life.

Five years is not that long. Look how fast the past 5 years have flown by. In the blink of an eye, I’ll have my own life and need to fill it with things I enjoy.

Nothing is set in concrete at this point, but I have some ideas in mind. Of course, anything can change between then and now, but I have to say, it’s been amazing being able to dream again. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve looked beyond my current responsibilities and considered that life may be mine to live once again.

My boys are amazing, and they have kept me grounded and going for a long time, but life moves on—mine and theirs. I want them to be able to explore and do things that they are passionate about. My reward for giving them the skills and knowledge to be productive members of society will also be the opportunity to explore and engage in things I’m passionate about.

I may not know for sure what I’m going to do in the future, but I know it’s not going to be sitting around feeling sorry for myself. I’ve done that for far too long. I’m keeping the possibilities open and am excited to see what life has in store for me.

Maybe at some point, I’ll find the environment where I’m able to shine—where I’m appreciated for what I am and what I have to offer. I’m looking forward to finding that place.