Good morning, Readers.

Yesterday, good friend and fellow author Eric Desmarais posted a list of five pet peeves (which you can read HERE).  I'm joining in with one of my top pet peeves.

Talking about something from a place of ignorance.  It makes one look like a complete ass.

Of particular note, is discussing a book without actually having read said book.  Now, I was lectured a little while ago on a link share I made on my Facebook page about the glorification of abuse in the book Fifty Shades of Grey.  In my opinion, the book does glorify abuse, and gives the mistaken impression that the abused can change the abuser from being an abuser to being a decent human being just by loving them more.

Which, everyone hopefully knows, is kinda bullshit.

Anyway, I had done a fair amount of research on the subject, reading both sides of the supposed debate (I say 'supposed' because after having done the research in my mind there really was no debate), and even attempted to read the book.  I admit that I didn't get very far with the first book itself.  I found the writing too poor to tolerate, even for the sake of research, and I immediately recognised the abuse.  It turned my stomach a bit and I just couldn't read farther.

So, I hadn't completed the series.  I couldn't bring myself too.

The point is, someone slammed me for speaking on the subject even though I had not read (finished) the book.  I had read the book.  I hadn't finished the book.  There is a distinction.

Were they right to call me out?  Well, yes and no.  Yes, I hadn't finished the book, so how could I speak on it?  However, I had read the series plot summary, and copious amounts of articles about the shape and effect of abusive relationships, the psychology and tricks of abusers, and the actual rules and practices of real BDSM.

I heard the furore created by the book and did all I could to understand it.

That's more or less the way I operate.  I try to understand the problem before wading in with my opinion.

Because I have been that idiot speaking from a place of pure ignorance, and I vowed - because I had hurt someone with my ignorance and been made to look the fool I was - to never do that again.

John Scalzi is currently dealing with a tool who is claiming his Hugo Award winning novel Redshirts only won because it was a Social Justice Warrior-y book, filled with the leftist messages so beloved by the secret cabal in charge of keeping leftist message-y books in the nomination slots.  Or something.  The person slamming his book has never actually read the work in question.  If he had, he might have been surprised at how much it resembled the 'good ol' sci fi' they claim their fighting to bring back (or something).

Scalzi wrote about it in a post last night, which you can read HERE.

For my part, I really enjoyed Redshirts and I reckon it really deserved its Hugo win.  It's not easy to write something funny that also pulls at the heart.

Actually, now that I think on it, we did a Nights at the Round Table episode on it:

I'm sick to death of the Sad Puppies thing, but it is the most recent example of the kind of idiocy that really grates on my nerves.

In the age of easy access to information, there is absolutely no excuse, no excuse, for ignorance.  We live in a world with information literally at our finger tips 24/7.  How on earth people can perform the mental gymnastics that enables them to double down in their ignorance is utterly beyond me.

And I hate it.  It's as stupid as the ignorance itself, and infinitely more idiotic than ignorance ever will be.

So, my top pet peeve would have to be wilful ignorance.

Stop it.  Just don't do it.  If you don't know anything about a particular book/subject/current event, keep your mouth shut.  There is no shame in not knowing.

There is a great deal in being the dumbass who talks about stuff you know nothing about.

Don't.

Do.

It.

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

So.... I'm trying to write a blurb....

It's for Human, as a leaflet to tuck into my books at ComicCon to let people know of my next release, and I just don't know what to do with it.  I can't write it.

I literally stared at a blank page for hours trying to figure out what to say.

Writing the novel was hellish.  Writing this blurb appears to be equally so.

I received some help from my good friend E.D., and now I have to find a way to focus the threads of this book into a hierarchy and pitch the book according to what I find most important.  Which is also difficult.  There is a romance aspect to the book which is hugely important, but it's not really central.  I think I want to focus on the mysterious threat more.

It's not great, but it's a start.  And with that start, I managed to write one sentence.

One sentence in two hours.

Ugh.

It's not even a good sentence!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGH!

So, today will be spent wrestling with this thing.  Perhaps I might even get it into a reasonable shape.  Or not.  Who knows?

I hate blurbs with a passion.

I'm cheering myself up with funny videos at the moment, and there was one that I absolutely have to share with you.  Ladies and gentlemen, Hawkeye:

I laughed so hard.

For the record, I really like Hawkeye (it might have something to do with my fondness for archery....), and I really hope they do more with him in the future.

Right, I'm off to stare blankly at a nearly blank page and weep.

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

So, I figured a change of pace was warranted.  Even though I really want to complain about my knee after last night's disastrous run, I'm not going to.

Even though I sort of did.

Anyway, today I want to draw your attention to Ottawa ComicCon!  In case you missed the announcement earlier, after a long time on the waiting list, I had given up all hope of getting a table there this year.  Then, all of a sudden, with less than three weeks to go until the convention, I received an email about a cancellation.  Did I still want the table?

Hells yes, I wanted that table!  Only problem being my expensive bra shopping trip.  You see, I spent the money I had kept in reserve for a table at ComicCon on my aforementioned shopping trip because I honestly didn't think I would be getting a table at so late a date.  And I really needed the new underwear.  So there's that.

Anyway, I thought I was screwed.  Then... Amazing Flatmate to the rescue.  We'll be sharing a table this year.  Me with my books and stuff, and her with her incredible, geeky costume creations and accessories.  I mean... they're really awesome!

There was a bit of a mix up regarding the table.  In my rush to find someone to share the table, I accidentally promised it to folks other than the Amazing Flatmate.  I don't know why.  I was panicking.  In any case, as recompense for being a complete dolt and having to take away said offer of sharing, I will be selling their stuff at my table too.

So if you were hoping to get some stuff from Renaissance Press at ComicCon have no fear!  I will have some books from them at my table.

So, I'm really excited to be there.  Look!  I'm listed:

If you're coming to Ottawa ComicCon, please drop by table 2711 for a chat.  I'd love to connect with you again.  Table 2711 is here:

Last Ottawa ComicCon was absolutely wonderful.  I had so much fun and everyone was so lovely.  I'm really looking forward to it this time around.

Even if I got the table too late to top up my stock.  Oh well!

Hope to see you there.

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

Over the last couple of days, I've been seeing a lot of variations of the following graphic posted all over the place:

Pardon me for being a cynical arsehole, but no.

That's not how this works.  That's not how any of this works.

I suppose it must help sometimes when you're struggling in life to believe that something good is just around the corner.... If you just sit tight and wait for it.

And that, frankly, is unacceptable.

I have seen this phrase used as an excuse for inaction, for the cessation of effort, for giving up on life goals, on dreams, on people.  That is not how life works.

In an effort to keep my thoughts somewhat coherent, I'm tackling two of the major things I see people abusing the idea of destiny for.  The first is love.

This aggravates me more than a little.  I see relationships tumble, or fail to get off the ground, because no one is trying to save anything.  Then people say: "I guess it just wasn't meant to be."

While it is true that sometimes, despite all efforts, relationships will fail.  People will grow apart.  There may come a point when relationships simply aren't worth saving.

That's not what I'm talking about.  The problem arises when people just don't put in the effort at all.  There is a bizarre notion that love is some pre-ordained thing.  You meet "the one" and everything is easy all the time.  This attitude has people running for the hills when things get difficult, screaming: "IT WASN'T MEANT TO BE!"

Real talk, folks.  Relationships - all relationships - require effort.  They're work.  They require energy, upkeep and effort.  All relationships do, not just romantic ones.  But it's the romantic relationships we're talking about at the moment, so that's what I'm talking about.

Look, no one is saying stay in abusive relationships or to work when the other person is doing nothing.  This is mutual work.  It's work that both parties (or all, if you're in poly-amorous relationships) are willing to do because having the other around is an amazing reward.  It's worth the work.

The point is, however, it's still work.

If you want lasting love, you work for it.  I'm not a big believer in destiny.  At all.  However, I will allow for it.  Perhaps meeting your love was destiny.  Keeping them, however, is not.

If it is going to happen, it's because you put in the work.

The other thing, and something closer to my heart (I know, I know.  I'm a cold, cold person), is the issue of abandoning dreams.  Why?  Because things didn't seem to be happening, so it "wasn't meant to be."

Bullshit.

I have had discussions with would-be writers who have literally said, "I finished my book but none of the people I queried wanted anything to do with it.  I guess being a writer just 'wasn't meant to be.'"

Bullshit.

The difference between the people who make their dreams a reality and people who don't?  Those who make it, never give up.  Never.  Those actors, living the high life and in demand from every studio ever?  They spent a whole lot of life waiting tables and flipping burgers, busting their arses in low-paying jobs the sole benefit of which being the often flexible schedules... which they took because it allowed them the time needed to pursue their dreams.

Speaking from my own profession?  Those writers who seemed to have been given overnight success?  Actually, they've toiled for years before their break.

Sure, luck is often a huge part of it.  Yes, there will be some people who toil away forever and never, ever make it "big."  It could be that I will be one of them.

That's life.

But the guaranteed way to ensure you never achieve your dreams?  Claiming "If it was meant to be, it would be" and using that as an excuse to walk away.  That's not an excuse.  And it's a dangerous game to play.  What if you were right on the brink that breakthrough?  What if you were almost there?

However destined you may feel to be a writer/actor/entrepreneur/whatever, you will never get there unless you bust your ovaries to make it happen.

I have real issues with this 'inspirational' quote "If it's meant to be, it will be."  I have seen first hand how the quote inspires people to sit on their laurels and do nothing, and expect great things to happen.

That's not how this works, people.  That's not how any of this works.

So, no.  There is no "meant to happen."  There is only "made to happen."

Now, this is fairly over-simple in regards to many things in life.  There are cases where one person will have to work harder than others to make their dreams come true - racial minorities, LGBTQ folk, women... It sucks.  It's not fair.  I hate that that's the case.  It seems so flippant to say, but if you wanted it, you would do the work.  Easy for me to say, right?

I'm poor, but not desperate.  I'm white.  I have a job.

I'm in such a position of privilege.

But the fact remains, that making dreams come true requires work.

"If it's meant to happen, it will." is a false promise.

If you want something to happen, you have to make it happen.  And even then, there's no guarantee that it will happen.  That is the nature of life.


Ciao!

Good morning, Readers.  Today is going to be a heartfelt-y sort of post, with events and opinions that are likely to cause a stir, if my post about not liking compliments on my physical appearance is anything to go by.

(Also, sorry it's late.  I spent the morning getting rid of a virus that kept redirecting my webpages to some other page)

So, a lot has happened over the past couple of weeks that has had a huge impact on me, as these things tend to.

Most of you know about my almost-breakdown that happened as a result of the reactions to THIS post.  Hint: it's the one about me not liking it when people give me compliments on my physical appearance.  That post opened up a massive storm, apparently.  Some people really got it (glad you did), some people were indifferent about it, some people didn't get it, but decided to respect my quirk, and some people took it as an affront to their own person.

Apparently writing about my own personal feelings on being complimented was "biting people's heads off" amongst other things.  I defended my right to feel as I do, and it soon blossomed into a colossal battle that, frankly, still has me reeling.

It also had me thinking.  A lot.  I'm not going to rehash the two week long argument, but I do mention it because it had me questioning my sanity and directly placed me where I am now.  Being treated like your feelings are not only wrong but entirely unimportant and unworthy of consideration can really - pardon the language - fuck with you.

Though the argument has ended, it has left me struggling with myself.

Am I insane?  Am I wrong?  Why don't my feelings count?

It's something I've dealt with practically all my life.  Looking back now, I can see the pattern of treatment that continually repeated up until now.  It's part of the reason, I think, that my putting my foot down created such a furore.  I've almost always sacrificed my self-respect for the sake of "peace."  To keep the boat from rocking, I let people trample all over me.

My "friends," peers, colleagues, sometimes even family.

I was repeatedly shown, and so came to believe, that I did not matter.  I was, in effect, not a person.  I was a mat, a peace-keeper, the bottom rung on a ladder, a mud scraper, but never a person.  I figured that if I was talented enough, smart enough, pretty enough, good enough then people would respect me.  Since very few people ever did, clearly I was not talented enough, smart enough, pretty enough, good enough.

It's flawed logic, I know.  But it made sense at the time.

Naturally, this attitude spread into every aspect of my life, from my hobbies, to my ideas of what my profession should be, my studies to my own opinion on my physical appearance.  I was not talented enough, strong enough, smart enough, thin enough, pretty enough, good enough to get serious about any of it.

I'm not telling you all this to re-open wounds or to pick more fights.  It's just what is... or was, actually.

This attitude has definitely changed of late.

It started with my martial arts training, and that start is the reason I feel as strongly as I do about my training.  When I started training with Wutan Canada, I was a chubby, withdrawn, shy and miserable young woman of twenty-four.  I had one real friend in the world (with whom I've recently reconnected.  Yay!).

Now I'm a slightly less chubby, capable, confident and mostly happy woman who will be teaching two martial arts classes of my own this spring.

The people at Wutan Canada were all so welcoming, patient and fun that I was able to be myself and, most importantly, not fear rejection.  And I was not rejected when I proved what a goofy dork I can be.  In fact, they accepted it easily and readily.  I now count these people amongst my closest friends.

They're actually a lot like family to me.

It was through my friends at Wutan that I met and moved in with the Amazing Flatmate, who is practically a sister at this point.

It is because of the confidence I found while training that I decided to give my hobby the chance it needed to become a career.  I decided to get serious about my writing.  I decided that I had what it took to be successful.  I decided I had talent enough.

So I dove in.  I've made a tonne of mistakes, and am still making them (points to whomever can find the most typos in this post).  Along the way, I've met the most incredible people.  People I respect and admire a great deal and, importantly, who respect me.  I have now close friends I adore because I started this writing journey.  That alone has made it worth it, critical success or no.

My rising self-confidence and my experience of what mutual respect looks and feels like means that I will no longer tolerate the treatment that had me feeling subhuman for most of my formative years.  However, whenever old patterns threaten, or people try to pull the same shit, the fact that I spent so long feeling at fault makes it difficult to accept that I'm not really wrong.

Logically, I know the my feelings are my feelings, and are thus not wrong or stupid.  They simply are.

I know that I have value.

I know that I'm a person.

Yet the old emotions flare up, and it is a struggle to reign in these ghosts from my past.  That is where I am right now.  I'm struggling to remember that I have value, and that I deserve respect.

I will get there.  I have amazing people in my life right now.  By the by, I love you, amazing people.  Every one of you.

The same supports that dragged me from where I was are there to catch me if I start sliding back.

Even if they weren't, I have gained too much to revert to the way I was.  That person is no longer me, even if the baggage of old me does weigh me down sometimes.

I also want to address something that was brought up to me.  Some people have variously expressed admiration or discomfort with how much of my inner life I'm willing to share on this blog.  

I don't believe in presenting a lie of perfection.  I'm human, like most everyone reading this.  As a human being with a function brain, I have thoughts, and opinions.  Things happen to me.  They aren't always good things.

The take away I would like from this blog, however, is not that bad shit happens, but that bad shit can be overcome.

Not only is it a little cathartic for me to share my burdens with the world a bit (not all of them, mind, nor many of them in great detail.  There's a lot that I leave out), but I do it because I know there are other people out there struggling with the same bullshit I have dealt with (and still am, in some cases).

I've said it before, but it bears repeating.  I write these things for others who are struggling; so that they know they are not alone, that others have experienced similar hurts and made it through to see happier times.  It's the same reason I write openly about my depressive spirals and my anxiety.  My hope is that someone might read these words and no longer feel alone, and feel comforted, and hopeful.

So, if you're feeling down and you're reading this, there is something I want you to know:

You are talented enough.  You are smart enough.  You are strong enough.  You are good enough.

I believe in you.

Now, GIANT INTERNET HUGS FOR EVERYONE!

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

So, as promised, I edited and uploaded episode eleven of Nights at the Round Table yesterday.  The editing wasn't so bad.  I had that done at about 12:30pm.  What was terrible was the upload.  It took just shy of eight hours to upload the thing.  I was promised four.  If iMovie had been telling the truth, I should have been done uploading and off home at my usual knock off time.

NOPE.

I decided to stay in the office until the upload was finished.  I didn't want to interrupt it.  I finish at 5pm most days.  Looking at the time remaining, I decided 6pm wasn't so bad.

Only 6pm rolled around, and the time remaining said I had a hour left to go.

And then 7pm rolled around... and there was 52 minutes left to go.

I got out minutes before 9pm.

I never want to do that again.

But, at least the episode is uploaded and available for viewing.  You can do so here, if you like.  We talked about the 1976 film Carrie.  

I had a lot of fun filming this one, and editing it.

That upload, though...

Anyway, there isn't much else to report.  I'm taking the day off today, though.  I'm disappearing into Minecraft for a bit.  I should be working.  I just can't bring myself to right now.

This decision will likely bite me in the butt later.

Ciao!

... More or less.

Good morning, Readers!

Sorry about there being no post at all yesterday.  I was ill with a very sore throat and a fever and didn't feel up to much other than watching some Russell Howard's Good News.  Hilarious show.  I love it muchly.  I still have both a sore throat and a fever, but I decided to come into work today anyway.  The fact that my appetite has returned made up my mind for me.  Luckily, work isn't too strenuous and I should be fine.

This past weekend was incredibly busy - Sunday especially.  Friday night saw me at my father's French amateur theatre performance.  It was very funny, though a little difficult for me to understand in places.  Saturday I went out to visit the local leather goods store, get a very short haircut, and then read The Stand by Stephen King, which needed to be finished by Sunday.

As it turns out, I did finish The Stand... at 3:30am on Sunday morning. I then had about four hours sleep before I had to wake up and watch Ladyhawke, which is a two hour movie, before running off to film panels for both book and film for Silver Stag Entertainment.  Immediately following that, I went over to Tom's place to help him shoot a couple of things.  I will be appearing on his YouTube channel and will post the videos here once they're up.

Immediately following that was the monthly author meet up.  It was fun, though I was so very tired by that point.  By the time I exited the bar, I could feel the fever starting and the scrubby feeling at the back of my throat had blossomed.  My fault, of course.

All the stress from the past two weeks, what with the fight for respect I've been embroiled in that has dragged me through emotional hell, and then the lack of sleep, and (let's be honest) proper nutrition.  I'm surprised that I hadn't been struck ill sooner.

Some Bad News

Because I was so exhausted Sunday, and so ill Monday, I didn't actually get around to editing together the latest episode of Nights at the Round Table.  I'll be doing that today so the episode will be up shortly.  I'm really sorry to everyone who was expecting it last night.  I didn't have the strength for it.  It's late, but it's coming!

Some Good News

I looks like I'll be at ComicCon this year after all!  A cancellation has given me a table.  I'm looking to share it, as the cost of a table is a bit more than I can afford.  I believe I will be sharing the table with the wonderful folks of Renaissance Press.  They're great fun to be around, and I'm looking forward to it.

I'm at table 2711.  Or I should be.  It's all very tentative at the moment.

The bad-ish news is that I don't have time to order new stock for the show (I honestly thought I wasn't getting in, so I haven't reordered the books I'm low on).  Ethan Cadfael: The Battle Prince is quite low, stock wise.  It's been oddly popular of late.  And I also have to come up with a blurb for Human... Since I intend to have little leaflets at ComicCon to advertise the book.

This is all very rushed, which makes me anxious.  Still, I get a table, and that's really awesome.  I haven't missed a single one since Ottawa ComicCon began, and I'm really glad I get to keep that going.

I think that's everything.  I have a lot of work to catch up on.  Here is a song I've posted before, but it continues to crack me up so I'm posting it again.

Ciao!