Posts Tagged ‘writing’

I watched a special on HBO while stuck in my house due to an ice storm this weekend. It was called “Every Brilliant Thing”, and it’s definitely worth checking out. But, it inspired me. I want to start making a list of every brilliant thing to me in life. Everything that makes life worth living.

It’s no secret that I struggle with depression. I have for over half of my life, now. Usually, I manage just fine. But some days, it gets to me. It’s like a poison spreading through my system, leaving me weak. I can’t find the light, and that’s my biggest problem in that state of mind: I’m lost in the darkness, and cannot find the good to pull me out of it.

So, I’m giving myself a list of things. Things to read and remember what makes me even slightly happy. I’m giving myself a way out of the darkness.

Let’s start by cheating a bit with my list of things I was thankful for a few posts ago:

1.) Movie nights with someone you love.

2.) My Batman collection. 

3.) My nieces. 

4.) Fur babies. 

5.) Feeling inspired. 

6.) Productive nights of insomnia. 

7.) Feeling accomplished. 

8.) Qdoba nacho dates with my  best friend. 

9.) The hunt for collection things.

10.) Long calls with your favorite person.

11.) Clear nights with the moon and stars shining bright.

12.) Hoodie weather.

13.) Nature walks / Hikes.

14.) Road trips with good company and good music.

15.) The exhilaration on your favorite rides.

16.) Doing something kind for someone else, and knowing they appreciated it. 

17.) Knowing this was the first December in a few years I didn’t have a surgery scheduled.

18.) The catalyst of meeting Kevin Smith a little over one year ago. 

19.) Filling up a box of comics.

20.) The excitement of somewhere new.

21.) Being so happy that I can’t stop the big, dorky grins. 

22.) Painting with music blaring days. 

23.) Adventure. 

24.) Chinese food. 

25.) Supporting the dreams and projects of others.

26.) The Bat Force / Bat Force Radio while working on my collection. 

27.) Naps.

28.) My fandoms.

29. ) People equally passionate about the same things I am.

30.) Good memories.

31.) Cards Against Humanity nights. 

32.) My closest friends.

33.) My BEST friend.

34.) Everything about a certain someone. 

Now, let’s add a few more on, to make it a proper new post:

35.) Meeting your heroes.

36.) Comic Cons

 37.) Finding new movies you absolutely love.

38.) The song that becomes Our Song

39.) Comfy socks.

40.) The first day of feeling better after being sick.

41.) Peanut Butter M&Ms 

42.) Art days after school in high school, working on projects with people that meant the world to me.

43.) Hot apple cider in my Ouija mug when I’m sick.

44.) Good, long conversations.

45.) Dressing up as Harley Quinn

46.) Poetry

47.) The work of Charles Bukowski

48.) Unexpected gifts of things you want, but didn’t ask for.

49.) When the person you fall in love with, falls in love with you.

50.) Happy dances.

There we have it. My first 50 things. I hope to read through them when I’m down, and then add to them, and hopefully use this tool to pull myself back out of the grips of depression.

~Angel

ordinary

“Well the course, the chain of events, that would be the evidence, some say it’s coincidence
I say I found something greater than myself and started accepting it
And I can see, feel, taste and smell again
And I’m the only one with the hammer to break this shell I’m in
It’s gonna take me crackin’ this mirror to finally be myself again
Met my potential a long time ago, and I’m not stopping til I resemble him”

2016 was a weird year of ups and downs for me. A year of challenging myself to get back to being my best self, mentally and physically. A year of letting go of things I shouldn’t hold onto anymore, or embracing things that are better for me in the long run. I’ve had periods of productivity and somewhat success, and periods of doubt that stifles creativity to the point of madness.

And here I stand, ready to take on my dreams again. I keep saying it. I keep telling myself that I’ll get back to the important things, like writing. But now, I have no choice. It’s now or never, Angel. Kick that ass back into gear.

“I don’t know why,
But it’s like I can’t stay quiet.
This is my voice,
I can’t let it die inside me.”

I’m stepping into 2017 with big dreams. I’m exhausted, after barely surviving the constant ups and downs of 2016, but the desire to move forward is there.

Let’s make this our year, shall we?

-Angel

I am ready to move forward. I am ready to not only chase after my dreams, but catch them and beat them into submission. Well, okay. Maybe I won’t be that violent with my dreams. But you get the idea. I am ready for more.

“In the face of such hopelessness as our eventual, unavoidable death, there is little sense in not at least trying to accomplish all of your wildest dreams in life.” – Kevin Smith, Tough Sh*t: Life Advice From a Fat, Lazy Slob Who Did Good.

I’ve been pretty focused on being healthier lately, both mentally and physically. I’ve been focused on making better decisions for my body, as well as doing things that make me happy, like working on things for my collection, and taking time to read comics again. It’s taken a lot of my down time, but it’s been worth it. Now, I’m about to set out for Orlando. I have hopes that by the time I get back, I’ll be refreshed mentally and ready to dive back into writing as much as I should be.

“Uh-oh, running out of breath, but I
Oh, I, I got stamina
Uh-oh, running now, I close my eyes
Well, oh, I got stamina
And uh-oh, I see another mountain to climb
But I, I, I got stamina
Uh-oh, I need another lover, be mine
Cause I, I, I got stamina.”

 I’m making big plans, working on improving Wandering NerdGirl, and trying to get a first draft hammered out on my WIP. There isn’t a lot I can explain yet, but definitely soon. 😀

See you after Florida!

-Angel

keepgoing

It’s always a curious thing, letting go of some aspects of your life in order to embrace other things that feel more important. The seed is planted, and you’re ready to watch it bloom. You’ve been watering it and giving it all of your love. Sometimes, something amazing blooms. Other times, nothing happens. You’re left alone in the dirt, waiting for something to come from nothing, and having no idea whether it will become everything you hoped for, or leave you as you are – alone in the dirt.

I started down a path a few months ago, terrified and unsure of myself, with hopes of pushing myself toward something better. I’ve been hard at work on Wandering NerdGirl. I’ve been working on my health. Trying to spend more time with friends. I’ve been working on things I’ve never done before. Spending time with my nieces and going to Six Flags. And all of these things can bring me some temporary comfort, and the occasional feeling of accomplishment.

But you know what I haven’t been doing lately? Writing – working on new stuff, or editing, or finishing Work-in-Progress stuff. I haven’t been taking any pictures. I haven’t been drawing or painting. And not doing these particular things is really waging war on my brain.

I just came home a week ago from a last minute trip, mostly just an adventure, with a bit of excitement. I was on top of the world when I was coming home. I felt decent for the first time in a while emotionally. But no sooner than I returned to normal life, did Life decide to step in and remind me that I was coming back to normal, and needed to lose that happy, euphoric feeling. Don’t forget who you really are, it seemed to say this week.

However, I am fighting back. I have full intention to get some writing and hopefully some drawing done this weekend. I will not allow myself to keep feeling like a failure.

More soon.

~Angel

“Are you searching for purpose?
Then write something, yeah it might be worthless
Then paint something then, it might be wordless
Pointless curses, nonsense verses
You’ll see purpose start to surface
No one else is dealing with your demons
Meaning maybe defeating them
Could be the beginning of your meaning, friend.”

I’ve been spending a lot of time trying to figure myself out. I know what I want. I know that if I can work myself hard enough, I can have it.

But it’s been a little easier said than done when your body decides to be twice as tired as it typically is, and hurting in nice fun new ways that make doing pretty much anything impossible. Plus, I got hooked on Marvel’s Jessica Jones on Netflix, and had to get the first season binge watched in less than a week.

 Next week I’m supposed to see my Rheumatologist and it’s stressing me out quite a bit more than I’d like. I’ve had so much happen, so much disease manifestation and progression, that I don’t want to go hear whatever she will say about it all.

Plus there have been loads of other stressful things going on, and all around I sort of feel like I’m unraveling.

comeonkid

But, I’m still going forward with the things I want. I’m still trying to learn new things so I can make new things. I’m trying to get my body to a point it isn’t having a meltdown. I’m trying to keep up with Wandering NerdGirl and make it into everything I wanted it to be.

Mainly, I’ve been needing to write, which comes easier to me on some days than others. I was a writing machine, cranking out posts and chapters and everything for a little while. Then BOOM – I slow waaaay down. I’m trying to get myself back into the swing of things, but it’s been a struggle. I used to, before sickness and stress and life drained me of everything, be able to write write write until the only thing slowing me down was hand cramps. I’d fill notebooks and print hundreds and hundreds of pages. I wrote during and between classes in High School, and when I’d get home from school. When I was in college, I wrote before classes and between them, and even tried to sneak in some writing during classes. I used to write on work lunch breaks. I spent summers at my desk, writing for hours on end.

But then stress took over. And from stress sprung illness, a mighty beast even for me to deal with.

I’m trying, though. I’m trying as hard as I can to find a way to get everything I want from life. I’m trying to get the words to come even when I can’t form a coherent thought because the brain fog is so heavy. I’m trying to give myself things that help put me back into my head correctly. It just takes time.

I finished a chapter of my current WIP the other day, and I’m hoping to finish a chapter or two this weekend if I can push myself enough. We will see.

~Angel

horrorghoul

I, myself, am strange and unusual.” – Lydia Deetz (Beetlejuice)

For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved monsters. My mom proudly tells people the stories: I cut teeth watching the Universal Monsters. I had a treasured Wolfman I carried around named Wolfy. One of her favorite stories involves me sitting outside with a black pot making “potions” while our new neighbors moved in. I idolized Elvira instead of pop stars. I grew up with a special place in my heart for Frankenstein’s monster and hunted for ghosts. The same year I got my first cellphone, I got my first Ouija board. It’s safe to say I started out a weirdo.

By the time I was 13, I was obsessed with slasher movies. I had pictures of Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers, and Jason Voorhees hanging in my locker. My older brother Ben took me to see Freddy VS Jason in theaters as my 13th birthday present. This was the point in my life it moved into obsession. I read horror. I watched horror. It started coming through in my art, in how I dressed, etc. Most importantly, I started writing horror.

For those who have never heard the story: When I was in the 8th grade, I had a nightmare, and this nightmare was so intense, I had to write it down just to cope with it. A few months later, in my Adavnced English class, we were assigned a project. We had to write a short story of oh-so-many pages or more. I was probably the most excited kid in the class. This was my chance to really prove myself. And the first thing that came to my mind was my nightmare. Which, luckily, I had written down.

So, I poured my heart into it. I made myself relive the awful nightmare, and then amplified it. It was already scary, and then I transformed it into something more, something that really made people uncomfortable. By the time it was finished, I was afraid to turn it in to my teacher. What if it backfired and I ended up in counseling? What if I ended up in trouble? Or she thought it was awful? I turned it in anyway along with the rest of my class and put it out of my mind.

Then next day, when I was in line for lunch, my teacher found me and pulled me aside, only telling me she needed to talk to me about my story. I knew this was it, and I was in trouble. But instead of being scolded, or finding out I was going to see the counselor instead of getting lunch, she told me that she loved my story. She had apparently been reading and grading our stories before she went to bed the night before, and had gotten through a few before she came to mine. After getting completely hooked into the story, once she was finished, she had to step outside for a few moments afterward to calm down. I was maybe 14 or 15, and I had done something pretty amazing for my age.

And then, she asked if she could let the other teachers read it, as well as read it to my class. I was shocked, but agreed. She said she’d read it to the other kids without naming who I was until it was finished.

This, my friends… This is the catalyst to my life. This is what took me from writing stories to keep my brain sane, to writing stories to keep my brain sane with the intent of making a career from them. I was so anxious waiting for her to read it, I didn’t think it could get worse. Until it did, the moment she started. I watched, fascinated, as my classmates reacted to my words. Kids that hated me and my own friends all on the edge of their seats. For something I had written.

I remember the overwhelmed feeling the minute she revealed I had written the story. For a brief moment, I was the talk of the school. They said I’d be the next Stephen King. I was on top of the world. She even kept the paper to read to her future classes.

To this day, it’s still one of the most unsettling stories I’ve written. I don’t want to give much away about it because I’d eventually like to rewrite it into something great.

horrorshelf

A few things in my horror collection.

I wrote, and wrote, and wrote. I filled notebook after notebook. Printed hundreds and thousands of sheets of paper containing me words. I expanded my horror movies I watched, hunting desperately for something new at Movie Gallery. I worked in a haunted house as a scareactor. I bought books on writing. I studied it. I learned from people who understood the business better than I did. I kept at it and kept at it. I became involved with Ax Wound. 

Then, my life changed. I went to college. I got a real job. I got sick. I spent less time on writing, and even less time than that dedicated to my horror. And while losing myself because I wasn’t writing was bad enough, I think I lost just as much when horror got pushed aside.

I watched horror movies occasionally: sick days, sleepless nights, Halloween time, hanging out with like-minded friends. But nothing like I had done before. I spent a long time trying to figure out what was wrong with me, and then last year it really sunk in:

I had gotten into writing through horror. It had given me some of my passion. And when I got myself back to writing regularly, I hadn’t gotten myself back into horror as much. And there was a problem there. Something was missing there.

I’ve been trying to devote more time to myself and what I want and need in various aspects of my life lately. And horror is one of those things. It sounds so silly to some people – “You’re upset because you don’t spend so much time watching scary movies?” But when you don’t know the whole story, you don’t always understand.

Monsters and slashers and blood and gore, those are all part of me. This are all parts of who I am, and what I do as a writer. Sure, everything I write isn’t a horror story. But sometimes they could use a good dash of horror or darkness.

I’ve realized that if I’m going forward with this career, then I will need to go back  to the basics, for the love of horror.

~Angel

deadbeforethedayisgone

I know it’s been a while since I have posted anything, and there’s a variety of reasons. I’ve been dealing with a lot lately. Changes, for better or worse. A torrent of good news and bad news leaving me overwhelmed. Luckily, I’ve been doing the opposite of what I typically do (which is wallowing in my own self pity while accomplishing nothing in the process.) I’ve been trying to focus on what’s best for me – for my health, for my happiness, for my future. I’ve been keeping a decent writing schedule and working on a new rough draft. I’m trying to nurture my body back into a state that I can properly function and not be quite so frequently sick. I’ve been trying to make sure that I do things to make Angel happy, instead of everyone else coming first 100% of the time.

But you know what sucks about this? I’m not used to it. And since I’m not used to treating myself a little better, it’s resulted in a mental assault on myself. Because I feel like I’m being selfish, and I don’t deserve to want what is best for me. I keep trying to push through, because I know I’m getting close to having my old self back – the version of myself that’s less broken, less corrupted. The Self I need right now. But it’s breaking through that barrier that’s tearing me apart. I know I’m almost there, but I know I’m fighting myself on it. I want to give up. Today was especially rough.

I started to doubt myself. How will I ever make it? In life? Against illness? How will I ever publish a novel? Why should I think I’ll ever sell another piece of art or get paid for another photo shoot? I’m not strong enough for this. It kept pounding in my head with each heart beat: I can’t do this.

Suddenly, I didn’t know if I could go on, period. Or if I did, if I could keep going with my life. Maybe it was time to give up on my childish dreams and finally grow up and join reality.

Until, I read this quote earlier:

 “Like a dandelion up through the pavement, I persist.” – Wentworth Miller (please see his Facebook post here)

That post, by a man I already admire, really struck me. But that quote? Oh, that quote. That fueled the fires inside me.

So my goal? Stick to my writing schedule. Crank out chapter after chapter. Continue to work hard at the things I want. Because I persist, despite all the things that want to stop me.

This is the year I get to take control back. It hasn’t been easy, and I’m sure it won’t get easier any time soon. But I will persist.

Expect more soon.

~Angel