The Mistake…?

I was on fire the other day.

I got writing my next book, and had this strike of inspiration! I have been sitting around 5000 words for the last couple of months: I knew where I wanted to go, just not how to get there. I had figured it out the other day, though. My Glob, I had figured it out!

I had a very sterile ending, that works brilliantly. Jay sandard, which translates to “everything you just read was so much worse for the character than you originally believed”. I had this one event that I wanted to happen. I showed it to the beautiful Patrick, and he pointed out how there was no compassion on the side of the reader. Basically, I had this avatar get shot and no one should care.

Initially, I was a little indignant. I have always, and probably will always, believe a story should be more a snapshot of an event rather than a retrace of past events that have little bearing on said event. I got thinking about Pat’s comment in this context, though. I started to realize that he was more correct than I wanted.

After penciling ideas out for a month, I finally had an idea of where I wanted to go. So, on Monday, I put down 2000 or so words. Tuesday, I heard the sirens call and wrote another 1000ish words. Wednesday, I was on fire and wrote nearly 5000 words. Yesterday, being Thursday, October 1st, I read over the fruits of my labour. That day was the first day that I didn’t have new ideas, and I was happy to just reflect.

Imagine my horror when I read the same chapter (with variations, minor but there were some) three times. I spent the next few hours stunned into silence. I had not started my music before I started reading, and I was between YouTube videos. There I was, staring at the horrible mistake I had made.

I was floored. I was upset. Hours upon hours of work would have to be destroyed. They were too similar and time sensitive to use again in the narrative, which means I couldn’t even recycle them for “the next day” or something like that. They were useless.

IF ONLY MY STORY WAS ABOUT THE DELICATE NATURE OF TIME AND SUDJESTION!

Oh wait, it is!
Without giving too much away, I am going to try to make them work as recursion as a hint for the reader that everything is wrong. I started a plot-progression tree to try to keep track. It’s already intimidatingly large.

If this works the way I think it might, this will be amazing.

Now to drink all the coffee ever in celebration!

Oh: I’m moving on Wednesday. There may be a little hiccup in updates, and if you want to come by for a visit, do so now. I’m moving 5 hours away and though everyone is welcome to come over to visit, it will be a bit far.

I’m Terrible

Hey. I got a new chair Thursday. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I have been busy.

I’m working on a new PodCast surrounding the concept of artist hating their own work. I got feedback on my FaceBook. I have a mild script this time, so I keep my thoughts in a somewhat organized fashion. I feel pretty optimistic about this one. Mind you, I thought that about the last one, and I have only had eight views on YouTube at the time of writing this. I will not say that it is because of poor production, not enough responses to blame everything on that.

I digress.

I have been writing a pretty torrent, as of late. I am expanding Martha. to be a full story, and the couple of people I have had read it over really enjoy what I’m doing with the plot! To make it even better, I am having such fun delving into that world. I have been writing the tale since May, so I am not happy with the 5438 words that so far. I had planned on doing 1000 words per month, so I am close to my target. I want to start shopping it out after I finish. I don’t plan on having someone bite; but if I continue this direction, I think it will have a better chance than some. I really like it, and I hope you do to!

My strange quiet for the past month? We’re moving again. Well, for my wife and I it’s again. For my parents, it’s the first time in 25 years. The cacophony surrounding everything keeps my mind very busy, and I am going to attatch myself to that premise as to why I have not been around as much.

OH! Here’s the new chair!

A New Branch of Government

Maybe I just missed it in my research, but I want to start a section of municiple government that looks into local bylaws regarding disability.

What would that cover? Things like industry complying with laws that govern accessibility. Resource management for individules. Set up and manage wheelchair transportation.

Yes: I know this would govern a small population in any city.
Yes: I realize that a good portion of what I am proposing should be set up by private companies and it DOESN’T exist right now because the demand is so low.

The idea that this branch doesn’t even exist*, again, upsets me very much. I am more than willing to take up the mantle if no one else is. In the case where it does exist: please give me the information for me to, at least, check in: to see if there is anything I can do. I have mentioned in this blog before, but I want to be a contact for people. I have little to offer, in the way of legal connections. Sometimes, all you need is a helping hand. I feel as if the connections I DO have are very solid, and a few are mildly ignored.

If I had unlimited money, and political power, I would create accessible housing options. As it stands, there is very little in this region. Actually, there seems to be very little in most, if not all, regions. My wife and I have been looking and, unless we want to go back into an apartment (which we don’t), there is always at least 2 reasons not to keep looking. It’s disheartening. It’s depressing.

I want to take action assuming that I will not be in the chair forever. This has become more of a passion thing, for me, and if I see no return (but break even) I’ll still feel like I had a minor win.

A Trite Existence

I wake up to the cat clawing at my face. He wants to be fed, and lets it be known. I have food to feed him, so I do so. I then go into the kitchen to make myself a coffee and some toast.

I am ravaged by guilt.

I am able to afford breakfast. I have pets because I can afford them. Barely, mind you, but I can. I even have a roof over my head and access to necessities. Lucky me.

I am white, male, and straight. It is horrible, but I feel so badly about it. I feel like life dealt me a hand of four kings, and I am complaining because there are no aces in my hand. There are days when I forget there are things for me to take advantage of because one day I need them, simply because I never need them.

I have been in a wheelchair for 6 years. Approximately 1% of people in the world are bound to a chair. So, for every small population that you can think of, that percent of the 1% is all there is in my world.

Does this give me the excuse to feel entitled? Should I just give up on everything and beg the world for hand-outs?

The biggest difference between my situation and most others is that, no, I was not born this way. No, I didn’t put myself in this situation. No, I refuse to look at anyone less for either doing so, or being so.

Yesterday, I found out that my ex-girlfriend has brain damage sustained during a foolish maneuver performed while being a teen aged girl. I have been trying to find a way to compartmentalize that since she informed me. It is not a case of accepting: it’s a fact that she has to deal with. I never would have known if I didn’t ask. We dated when I was 10 or so. It’s not like we’re super close and it would be stupid to have any sort of bad blood.

Accepting. That’s a term that I have a hard time believing that people cannot do. In some situations, being upset or angry will not change a thing. Most things are carved in stone, and refusing to let them become part of your life is detrimental. Refusal to adapt will literally make life unbearable.

I am sorry this post was so scattered. I got thinking about my friend and how gracefully they seemed to adapt to their situation, then I got thinking about the people who have the hardest time accepting my own situation even though it does not involve them. I’ll figure out something more organized soon.

this post is not depressing

The idea that “things will always get better” is a lie.

Hear me out.

It’s not a bad thing that things change. Yes, at times it can seem, or even be, daunting. To wallow in a mindset where things could be better is just as debilitating as the event could be.

Take me being in a wheelchair. Yes, it sucks. Yes, the healthcare system has all but failed me. Yes, I do make attempts to get my body back to where it once was. I never think that things could be better, because the idea of better is so damned subjective.

Will I walk again? No one has been able to give me a conclusive reason why not, so I’m going with a softy ‘probably’ for now. Do I want to? Of course I do. That’s why I try to walk everyday, only held back by the brain damaged I sustained that left me epileptic and has caused my muscles to react strangely to stimulus.

Do I really want things to be better?

Better than what? I have gone on rants discussing how I think the term “better” is bloody horrible. To paraphrase: Better than what? If your response was my current condition, then I have good news for you! I have gotten a lot further in some form of recovery! I mean: I still have brain damage and cannot walk on my own, but to dwell on that fact is futile. I’ll walk when I walk, and I won’t stop doing things until it starts to happen. Then, I’m planning on taking a four week nap and punching cute things endlessly.

I play. Of course there is no end to “improvement.” I do prefer that word over ‘better’ because improvement in quantifiable, but I digress.

So, why make the claim that things don’t get better over time? There is a chance that the person wants help instead of just sweeping proclamations. Instead of basically saying “stop bitching for now”, offer a hand. Even just the offer is all people want some times. If they turn it away, calmly and quietly leave the situation. There is a good chance they just need to vent in a semi-public fashion. Like screaming into the night and your neighbour accidentally hears you. FaceBook is just a way that the police will not get involved for public disturbances.

In eventual conclusion: no. I do not think things will get better. You just get used to the situation around you and learn to cope with it. There is nothing wrong with that. In fact, it means you’re learning! You’re adapting! Just know who you can turn to. There is no shame in asking for help.

Once more for the people in the back:

THERE IS NO SHAME IN ASKING FOR HELP.

You don’t need to see.

Okay, this sounds like a no-brainer to me, but maybe I’m biased.

If I you don’t see something, it does not mean that it did not happen. We cannot see electricity powering a device, we cannot see water moving through pipes, and we do not see our body metabolising energy. All of these things happen in the background and we do not question their existence.

With all of these things in mind: if someone says they did their recommended exercise for the day, BELIEVE THEM.

I have been, for months, dealing with people in my life not believing me when I say that I did ‘x’. I am just going to put ‘x’ because there are many different things that have been brought to question.

No, there is not always physical proof that ‘x’ happened, but it did. My promise should be enough. Especially when it involves a thing that only benefits me.

I get it: people have an interest in me walking again. People have this idealised fantasy where everything is the same as it was seven years ago. Well; news flash! Even if I walked TOMORROW I might never be able to get my license back. Even if I walked TOMORROW I could be turned away from my old job. In that situation, I would come out much further behind than where I am now.

Now, let’s play positive-guy for this paragraph. Assuming that I did my exercises proper and everything went the way half the medical community says that it should, I am still six weeks off ON THE SHORT END of being able to kind of walk. Assuming my medication continues to work as predicted and my body does not create some sort of immunity, I could avoid seizures wrecking my day, but they are to be a constant in my life.

I didn’t write this as a pity-party for myself. I wrote this on behalf of everyone who feels pressured to do something they are doing already and having no one believe them. I am writing this for everyone that feels overburdened by people who have this strange vested interest in their health, even if it really doesn’t affect them. I am writing this for every person who has been told there is a 5% chance of recovery.

DO IT FOR YOU. NOT FOR THEM.

And for “them”: fuck off. We are doing our best, even if you don’t believe us.

Writer’s Block is Weird

I find myself at a bit of a stop in my next book. I am proud of what I have so far. It comes out just over 20 pages. Strangely, I am able to think of a blog post to write, but not a continuation on my writing.

Why does the brain do this? Yes, blogs are a little more auto-biographical usually. That, or they are explaining from a very biased (in my case) source. My stories are usually birthed from reality. They are all situations that I have either lived through, or exaggerations on events. No, I have never been part of a terrorist organization, nor have I taken a bullet for my cause. I have been publicly ridiculed and emasculated for my beliefs. No, the comparison is not one for one. It could be argued that being publically hung to dry is worse than being killed. At least, when you’re killed, you don’t have to keep surviving in the hellscape that comes after.

On that note, at least if you don’t die, you can patch and fix your image. It may take a long time, but it’s doable.

On a very unrelated note: I got a new chair! I’m not using it! Thanks!

Okay, details: I have been using the same chair for 6 years at this point. I have learned many things about what I want from a wheelchair since I put together my initial order, and grew out of certain things that were put in place all that time ago.

Unfortunately, the chair I received until they have constructed mine has a misplaced centre of gravity. Small imperfections in my movement would result in me suddenly tipping backwards. Luckily, wheelchairs have anti-tip bars in the back. They saved my life on multiple occasions, but I hate having to rely on them. Due to this, I moved back to my old chair with a new seat cushion: at least for now. I hope that all is sorted before August.

The quotes

If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, you will notice that I have started releasing out-of-context quotes from You’re Not Dead.

It’s very interesting. I haven’t read the book since I finished editing it, and this is a great way to A) renew interest for other people and B) Revisit my work without feeling like I am under any real pressure.

Below is what I have released so far, but please let me know if you have a better line in mind for me to put to the masses:

  • For that hour, the Hero felt like he was drowning above water.
  • What is even the point in self-improvement if I am not to enjoy whatever I achieve?
  • Maybe it was for the best that he was alone.
  • Luka hugged him./He tried as hard as he could to hug back./He tried to call her a fool for thinking he was gone/He tried many things.
  • In a hospital near you, a heart monitor squeals./In a town far away, a girls heart breaks

An apparent misstep.

I started writing this blog to keep people abreast with my physical situation. Then, I started writing to express myself. For the last year, I have been putting a greater weight on music reviews than I have either the former.

I want to be a resource for the community. The biggest issue where that is concerned: I don’t know what people need. If there was a more direct question, I am sure that I would be able to fill in the necissary steps to complete it. Even if the answer was getting help, I would know where to ask.

Consider this me tapping out of the review world for a little bit. Again, I will be doing them, but space them out more. Kind of like how I used to go about a month between spotlights.

In the meantime, if anyone can think of a particular situation in regards to disability they would like me to illuminate, PLEASE do not hesitate to ask. I think my first revisit to that world will be talking about how horrible air seat cushions are.