Out with the Old … In with the New

Last year, 2012, offered so many eye-openers; an emotional roller coaster of sorts. The year began with a kiss to my fiancée and continued on from there with me trying to find new ways of keeping our relationship together for the sake of our daughter. After seeing my fiancée run out of the house many times to go party and hang out with friends, I knew that she was and had been dancing and flirting with other men. It was only a matter of time before she suggested the idea of having an open relationship. She came clean about a number of lies and events that she once thought that I believed; that was sometime around the one-night stand that she went out for, I think.

Now, after nine years of working on our relationship, which has included our daughter for the passed three, she’s unable to understand why I no longer want to be a part of the relationship after the 100th time of her saying: I’m sorry. I can and will change. I feel like I’ve fallen for it too many times already; I know I have. On top of that, I also learned that she’s been spreading lies to her friends and family about me for the passed couple of years, and offered to pay me to move out; though she phrased it as: $1,000 to go start new wherever you’d rather be. With all of the emotional stress of working to save our relationship, trying to teach her how to be a lady and a wife, how to cook, how to play the violin, learn the French language with her… and so much more, also did not work out. Trying to imagine myself with someone new after being with the same woman for over nine years did not help matters.

I’m currently unemployed, which has been the norm for the passed three and half years, at least. I have a few hobbies in mind, and a background in writing. Coming out of the muck of 2012, I’m finally able to write, again; in sentences that make at least a bit of sense, anyway.


For 2013, I have a couple ideas in mind that will likely help with my mental and physical health, that also may turn me into an author of a novel or two, a photographer, and maybe even an entrepreneur.

I will finish reading through my Bible, which I began during 22 hours of Christmas day that I spent alone, contemplating the meaning of ‘Family’. I returned Christmas night soon enough to spend a short amount of time with my daughter before telling her good night and to offer the idea of sweet dreams.

Now it’s the first day of the new year and I have plenty of work to do that will keep me occupied in becoming someone more. I have writings that range from ideas, to nearly finished novellas and screenplays for television series that were canceled shortly after I finished writing them. Still, I’ve been going over the idea of sending them in to find out what the producers and/or chief editor thinks about the ideas, so that I may get some added feedback from a reliable source who knows the industry better than anyone else. It could prove useful.

There are still many blog entries that I have yet to write in order to help my fellow bloggers and fellow authors. I will address several topics that I consider to be of importance, that will offer some insight to your writings, and hope that they prove useful to you and other writers.

Here’s to procrastinating…

Now, back to work.

Wave Good-Bye

Another year has come to an end. It seems that we survived the supposed end of the world that was scheduled for December 21, 2012, though the Mayan calendar ending did not necessarily mean the rest of the world would.

So, we’re all now waving good-bye to 2012 and getting ready to welcome another great year with family, friends, co-workers, and all of our good habits.

May 2013 bring much love, peace, happiness, and fulfill so many dreams that have yet been ignored. Remember to hold your resolutions close this year, as every year before, and work through them one step at a time.

Sing it with me…

Na-Na-Na-Na, Na-Na-Na-Na, Hey, Hey, Hey! GOOD-BYE 2012!

Happy New Year!

Rounded Update

Yes, I’ve been quiet for the passed week. I’ve been working on research and writing that I plan to share with all of you just as soon as I get it finished; and no, it’s not of the stories that I have been working on, unfortunately.

Since setting myself goals for the month of August, I’ve decided to take another look at blogging and how I can help to make a change for the better. One of my goals being ‘better quality posts’, I have been doing a bit of research before writing from experience and the little that I had read on the subject that I’ve been writing about.

Writing is still happening behind the scenes; in research, notes, short stories, and ideas. I’ve taken enough notes and done enough research (I hope) to work out a few articles. I will post them as soon as they’re complete.

I’ve also been working on my juggling. I’m still at three tennis balls, but I’m able to juggle four with limited ability. The tricks available to three-ball jugglers are quite something.

Once I figured out the Reverse Cascade, I was able to get the hang of ‘over the top’ throws well enough to work on Tennis (also referred to as ‘Fake Tennis’) and Real Tennis. The over the top throwing also opened up a new view at juggling and brought on the interest of attempting other tricks. The Half Shower is such a trick that requires an over the top throw in order to figure out; and the Shower, too.

The Yo-Yo and the Oy-Oy, along with the Machine, I haven’t really practiced much. I’ve been working on linking the tricks together, juggling two balls in one hand in both directions, and picking combinations that work well with one another. The Machine is still a bit out of my range at the moment, but I will slip back to practice it every now and again.

A technique known as ‘Claws’ – to grab the tennis balls with an over-hand catch – is also something in progress. I’ve managed to learn it more successfully with my right hand, while my left hand wants to play lazy and occasionally drop the ball.

I have accidentally done the Shower and the Windmill a couple of times, but have not yet figured out how to do them on purpose. I’m practicing and working on getting them, though. Juggling really helps when I feel that my writing just isn’t at its best.

When I feel cramped and need some room to explore my thoughts, I’ll take to juggling for a while. I’ll run through a combination of tricks that I know how to do. Then, I’ll attempt a trick that I’m still learning before I go back through a combination of tricks. After that, I’ll sit down for a breather to see what I can get written and what more I need to work on.

I’ve found that having the activity available as a way to vent when I just can’t seem to get the words to flow usually helps quite a bit. Maybe it’s the flow of blood rushing through my body, able to make it to my brain. Perhaps it’s simply the action of itself that gets everything working, again. It could be a mixture of the two or something altogether different. That’s a problem I haven’t begun working on too deeply yet; perhaps another time.


If you’re interested in watching the tricks that I named above to see how they look when performed, visit JugglingJoe1026 on YouTube: 3 Ball Tricks Encyclopedia.

Goals Set for August

Seeing that many other writers are setting goals for themselves, I’ve decided that I want to participate and set a couple goals for myself as well. Of course, I’ve never really been good with setting goals and keeping to them, but by the end of the month, I want to be able to feel good about what I have accomplished, or sit back and laugh at myself for having not accomplished them.

Seriously though, I will work toward these goals and try my best to achieve them. Since I am still unemployed, they shouldn’t be too much trouble to keep to, though I still have my doubts.

  • Better quality posts; each of which offers some kind of informative edge or insight.
  • Five posts that are not personally inclined, nor personally benefited from, that include images.
  • Four entries about writing, to help along fellow bloggers and fellow writers.
  • Make a short list of achievable goals and share on WordPress.

Okay, so I cheated on the last goal, but at least I have one of them completed. Now, I just have to worry about the other nine posts, at the very least, as well as offering a better quality of post each time that I sit down to write about ideas.

To make it a little tougher, I’ll toss in one that I’ve been considering for the passed couple of months…

  • Submit at least one article or short story for consideration to be published.

Writing Update from C. A.

Alongside blogging, I write erotica and fantasy fiction of worlds that could only be imagined. I’m still a bit skeptical about sharing my work, and the erotica I will not share on WordPress due to some of the rules about adult content and the like.

After reading over several blog entries from other writers, I decided to go back and take a look at a couple of the stories that I was pulled away from after a short period of writing. I soon realized that I haven’t even bothered to look at them since downloading OpenOffice.org 3, which offers a word count tool, at least.

The first story that I began is complete fiction that’s kind of similar to Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings mixed with Rowling’s Harry Potter and along the same lines as other works by well known authors. No, I’m not getting too deeply into detail here; I don’t like sharing what I haven’t completed. Even so, I’m skeptical about sharing what I have completed. When I say the stories that I have written are similar, I’m referring to the concepts, not the actual writing nor the ideas that they wrote about.

Still, after having worked on ideas for this story, including months of research directed toward the eras of mythological creatures and other fantastic beings, I finally sat down to begin what I thought was going to be a simple short story. – Boy, was I wrong. – Once I got started, the words seemed to naturally flow through my fingers and right on into the electronic document that I had open.

Since beginning it, ideas have been written in computer documents, on torn pieces of paper, napkins, even a cigarette pack or two. The location I was at, along with what I had available at the time, also contributed to the many surfaces that I chose to write on. Before I knew it, I had ideas pouring out through my fingers that I didn’t know what to do with. So, I wrote down what I could remember and hope that the others will come back to visit me.

Of course, there are always ideas that slip away into the void where they began. I don’t worry about them too much, since I know that they will eventually return or be replaced by better ideas that I had never before thought of. More often than not, I find myself thinking of the old ideas that had once been forgotten when I get back to reading the story that I was in the process of writing when I originally thought about the idea I had forgotten. Wow, sorry. Complicated.

Since downloading OpenOffice.org 3 and loading up two of the stories that I have written to see just how much damage I had done before being pulled away, I was rather surprised at myself. I originally started both stories in Microsoft’s WordPad, which offers no sense of ‘writing tools’ other than the necessary means of expressing ideas, and both were supposed to be simple short stories.

I quickly learned, by choosing the option to check the word count, that I had written more than 35,000 words on the novel of fantasy fiction. With all of the ideas that I had already included, and the many more that I have yet to include, I couldn’t believe that I had reached such a number. It really made me pause and think for a few moments.

The thought of structuring the novel into chapters, each written to focus on a specific turn of events made me think about restructuring a short story in the genre of adult fiction. So, I finally got around to thinking up an idea or two about erotica that would work well enough, did some research on the topics that I had chosen, and got busy writing.

I wrote everyday for at least two and a half weeks or so before I was pulled away from my writing to deal with other issues that constantly demanded my attention, by those who still swear they are entirely supportive of my writing.

After loading up the chapters and calculating a rough estimate of words for the short story of erotic fiction that I wrote some time ago, I was left with wide eyes staring at the monitor to see a count of over 54,000. – So much for the idea of ‘short’ story, I suppose. – I’ve still got some researching and writing to do on that story before I can even begin to think about publishing it. I hope that I can manage to wrap up the entire story in 21,000 words or less; I’m not entirely sure where I left off at, and I know there were a few more good ideas that I wanted to include.

Already, I can tell you that the erotic novel will continue on in a sequel, simply because I’m sure more ideas will strike as soon as I get back to writing about it. The fantasy fiction novel that I’ve been working on, I don’t think I will give too many details about, though I will say that I was hounded in the past to finish it more than once after allowing it to be seen by others.

Both of them I suppose are works in progress that will demand attention once I have the time to sit down and write with a clear mind. Still, I have ideas that would likely work for either of them, respectively, though I know that the ideas I have now would be out of context for both. I will know more as soon as I can get back to writing them.

Oh, the wonders of putting boot to butt. I mean, pencil to paper; fingers to keyboard; thumbs to touch-screen… Eh, whatever for you!

Poetic Nonsensical Meanings

Days that end with I are the days in which I don’t like poetic nonsensical meanings that have to be deciphered before they’re able to be understood by the reader. Even by this statement, I’m still missing a day, unless I were to add in days that end in E, as well.

By now, you’re probably staring blankly at your computer monitor wondering what I’m rambling on about with days that end in letters that don’t end in those letters. — Who said I was referring to the days of the week, in English, eh? — In French, six days end with the letter I and one ends with the letter E.

Of course, I’m still a novice when it comes to the French language of love and romanticism. I dabble here and there with new words, testing myself, but I have not been heavily studying it like I should have been, since buying the complete course a few years ago. No, I’ve been researching, studying, and writing in English, wishing I could also communicate in French. No worries; I’ll manage eventually.

The reason that I do not care much for the poetic nonsensical meanings of the poetically inclined mind is simply because after reading a line or two, my mind switches from critical to curious, adventurous.

When I read poetry, like many people, I tend to think less in the manner that makes sense and more in the manner that makes little sense, except to those who understand the language of poetry. Then, I suppose we would all get along with a phrase here and a stanza there.

During the times in which I feel the most philosophical, I tend to allow my mind the needed room to wander a bit and usually come up with short phrases of powerful meaning. Of course it’s fun. It’s freedom of the mind to think in ways that will naturally allow it to explore the possibilities of unearthing new ideas. It’s fun to share with others, the ways of coming up with new and exciting thoughts that lead to even more new and exciting thoughts.

“The canvas of a writer is not the parchment on which words are written, instead, the mind of the reader, in which the writing comes to life.”

The line above is a phrase that I thought up shortly after having a thought about writing that mixed with a thought about art. Writing in a sense, especially creative writing, being the resulting matter of expression through the use of words, is (or should be) considered art. Either way, whether it is or is not, is of little concern to me, since the phrase above offers a new way in itself to look at writing.

“Allow me a moment and I shall paint a picture inside your mind so vivid that you will remember it for all of the days that you enjoy to read; for I am an able writer.”

Yet another of my simple phrases that I thought up only moments after jotting down the first. Of course, I shared these with a couple people only to receive a blank expression from one, and an unenthusiastic ‘Okay,’ from the other. Their responses tell me that neither were thinking with an artistic mind when I shared this. So, I hope that you will allow your mind the freedom to open in order to understand these two lines that I share with you.


Mind you, I mean no offense to anyone who does enjoy the simple (yet so complicated) ways of poetry. I enjoy it as well, and have even written a poem or two during my years of writing.

Missing: The Word I Need

Missing Word Poster

Yes, I seem to have done it, again. It was wandering my mind and I can’t remember if I wrote it down before it left. I just love writing while being distracted, having several topics flowing at once, or being exhausted; don’t you?

Strangely enough, this word comes with a little back story. I was sitting at my computer three days ago jotting down some ideas of interest. I was typing right along and this word hit me. Well, more of an idea for a word, really. It was on the tip of my tongue, teasing me.

So, I considered the many synonyms and words that fell within the range of meaning of this word, trying to see if I could pull it back out of my vocabulary. I thought and thought. I likely went over at least four-hundred words.

While searching my brain for this word, I had the idea several times to jump on some search engine and look up a synonym. It would have saved me some time and would have been much easier. No. I had to think of it on my own.

Without yielding to the letters that were scrambled within my mind, it took me three hours to think of this word. Finally! I had remembered it! Oh, it felt good. It put a smile on my face and I was happy that I had finally remembered this word, all on my own.

In the moment, I was happy. I went on about my day without a care, did my usual searching and finding of things that were of interest. No problem. Some hours later, I got into a conversation in which made me think of my little problem. I was faced with remembering the word once more. I could not. I had to bypass the word that I had remembered, because I had forgotten it, just to complete the story without wasting more time trying to remember it, again.

Still, as I write this entry, I cannot remember the word, nor the ‘keyword’ that I designated to remind me of the word. It’s gone again, jumbled into the long list of vocabulary that is English. (At least I know it’s an English word! – Not French, German, nor Italian.)

As it has been bothering me for the passed couple of days, I will likely be thinking about this word, along with it’s designated keyword, in the hopes that one or both will reveal themselves to me once more. It may take some time, but I’m willing to sit back and wait a bit. Eventually, I’ll get over it and move on, to look back and forever wonder what the word was (at least, until I remember it, again.)


[Edit: 07-24-12] With the help of reading about short stories and fiction, I have remembered the word that I was searching for. The ‘keyword’ that I had to remind me of it was: author; the key phrase: drawn pictures to help the story along.

The word: Illustrate.

a View from an AntiSocial

I arrive like the air floating through the room. Quietly and unnoticed I make my way into the party area and have a look around. Music’s playing loud; no one is interested in conversation. There’s a spot by one of the stereo speaker — nope, it was just taken by that couple who’s been kissing all afternoon. There’s an available spot beside the fish tank. It’s just as good.

I sit down, leaning against the arm of a couch that is covered with people. None of them notice me standing there, due to their kissing, hand-holding, and eye contact with others who are coming or going. Conversation is just as silent as the music is loud. Reverse.

Still, though I had been invited by two people, I sit quietly. Is there a reason to dance? Has someone shown interest? I’ve looked. I’ve found none. So, I sit quietly, watching the happenings going on around me without a word to disturb the silence that lingers. The smile upon my face is not because I’m having a good time, rather it’s because I’m laughing about the events I’m watching directly in front of me.

To look across the room and see lips moving, likely offering sound to someone so close to the person, it would be surprising if they couldn’t hear. Perhaps, she should scream into their ear as the speakers are screaming at everyone within range. Still, I hear nothing. I see lips moving, hands waving, smiles offered; none of it directed at me. I simply nod my head to the imaginary beat of my own imaginary song while my mind begins playing scenes of the party that I would be tempted to use in a story. — Why would I want to bring back the memory of being so cold?

Hands are clapping. Someone fell over drunk. People are laughing. Everyone’s drunk. The whole point of the party was to show up drunk, drink to get drunk, leave because you’ve gotten drunk, or pass out because you’re too drunk. Wait, what’s the point?

Eyes glance in my direction. They wander passed, unable to recognize me from the person sitting beside me. Even still, they wouldn’t have recognized me; I’m unknown to you. Conversation, the intellectual words spoken between two people so they become acquainted with one another — it’s an event that has not happened and likely will not happen between us. You don’t know me, nor I you.

Unnoticed, I wander to the porch, watching and smiling as I step over a couple motionless bodies lying about the floor, avoiding the human waste that was and will be, long after I leave. I get the scent of fresh air and a new thought enters my mind, teasing me to leave this wondrous place.

I breathe in to fill my lungs, catching the scent of drugs and cigars being smoked at the other end of the porch. If only I had a blue uniform and handcuffs; that would be something worthy of a gut-felt laugh.

Turning back to look over the banister, I step aside to allow one of the party goers a section to vomit in peace, before he trips and slides down the stairs like an unwanted package left on a doorstep. I sigh and wonder if he’ll remember how the bruises got there in the morning; if someone will eventually tell him the truth of the matter, or if everyone will claim that he got beaten up for allegedly trying to molest the daughter of the homeowner. — It’s not my problem.

Before walking back into the house, I stop. I pause a moment when my eyes catch sight of the crowd of people already inside. Should so many people be allowed in one room? Do I really want to hang out with people that I’ve never actually met? What’s the point of being invited by people who care, if they really don’t? I turn and jump from the side of the porch, over the railing to land on my feet, unlike the other three people who tried leaving after attending the party. They’re still lying on the steps and in the yard. None of them noticed me walking through the yard.

Thoughts of having fun, my way, tease me on my way home. I could have sparked up conversation about Elton John’s music, Billy the Kid, The Mona Lisa, or even Boy George’s famous tophat collection. Did I dare? No. I’m wiser than that. Such topics interest those who are interested; annoy those who are not. Why share my wisdom with such people who show in each passing that they don’t care for themselves? – It’s the right thing to do.

I sit down to write. A story, a journal entry, a poem that no one will ever see. What’s the point? I’ll have written and read it and seen it, to know that it’s real. It’s there for me when I need it, not like those who claim my friendship and leave it be after a couple shared breaths. My writing is there for me like no person could ever be. I can share with it anything in which I choose worthy, and it will never betray or fault me.

There’s a smile on my face when I lay down the pencil. The paper is satisfied, too.