Getting Through It

July 21, 2017

So I’ve been reading Tarzan of the Apes, the first book in Edgar Rice Burroughs’s epic series. It’s good! Adventurous and exciting, and ironic in that I’m a human, thus the enemy to most of the main characters in the book. Still, a fun romp and one of the greatest adventure tales ever. Can’t wait to read the rest.

I’ve been working on several adventure tales, actually. Mostly pirate stuff, but I have a few others up my sleeve. No shirtless main characters, but I’m (trying to) put fast-paced, exciting stories out there. Let’s just someone else takes notice of them!

Another shirtless guy I’ve been thinking about these past two days…

Chester Bennington. I’ve loved Linkin Park pretty much since I first heard them in 2000, and never really had a “who cares” phase regarding them. When I heard about his death yesterday, it was the first time I’ve ever actually cried at work, and in front of everyone. It didn’t matter, though, it hit me hard.

I don’t want to get into a huge thing about how suicide is no joke and shame on you for making stupid jokes about this, but I really wish people would come to their senses. I’ve written stories where characters kill themselves, and I’m definitely not glorifying it. It seems like the only way of a situation sometimes, and I can understand why someone would make that choice, but there are people who can help, even if it just means someone listening.

I tried it once, back when I was 20. When I woke up the next morning, I figured maybe this world has more in store for me, and I’ve embraced it, good and bad. Every time I think about it again, I think about all I’ll miss, and never have the chance to experience.

How many great books and stories will I miss out on? How many movies, TV shows, songs, concerts, parties, Old West End Festivals, weddings, births, sunny days, rainy days, and everything else will I forfeit the chance to experience? To some, that might not be enough to matter. To me, it’s more than enough.

It’s life. And that’s why I keep writing, even if no one publishes me or reads my stuff. It’s why I continue to read, watch, listen, enjoy, taste, touch, feel, love, live, and everything else.

I’ve been writing like crazy lately. Regardless of what those pretentious editors (and the nonpretentious ones that just don’t find my stories right for their publication) think, I’m going to keep doing it, too.

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