Recently in Writing Category

I've spent the past several days playing around with Writing.com (WDC).  It's been good for me, as it's helped get me motivated again to actually write.  And I've enjoyed the feedback I've gotten from some truly skilled writers over there.  Tonight, I decided to further participate in the site by joining my first writing contest.  I chose to submit an entry to the Character Creation Contest. I figure I'm pretty good at character creation, so it's a good place to get my feet wet. I'll move on to more challenging contests -- one that force me to work on my weak points -- as time goes by. So I put together a character profile for Hargath, a dark priest.

Hargath is actually a recreated and edited version of a character I played in an online freeform roleplaying campaign. The way I came up with him always amused me.

When the group on the BBS decided to set up the room for the campaign, I hadn't decided if I was going to participate yet. So I sat back as people started making posts introducing their characters. I noticed that everyone was creating noticeably good -- as in morally upright -- characters. As I watched the party form up, I realized that this was looking like it would be a campaign where the players worked together perfectly well.

Now, perhaps it's because one of my favorite roleplaying games (though I never got to actually play it) was Paranoia, but that state of affairs didn't sit well with me. I felt that like good storytelling, good role-playing (I'm also of the opinion that the difference between the two is almost negligible) required some conflict between characters. It wasn't enough to just have to overcome the obstacles of the NPC's. There needed to be some obstacles to teamwork that needed to be overcome as well.

So I decided to introduce a dark priest. I forget what his name was, and I don't think I described him quite as well as I've described Hargath. But he was definitely the dark cloud looming over the party. And his presence did make for some interesting role-playing.

Shortly before the campaign fell apart (those of us involve simply found ourselves with not enough time to continue it), I remember an exchange between my priest and the mage that my friend, Ben played. At one point, the party came up against a particularly nasty captain we had to get rid of. The party agreed that assassination was the best course of action, and my priest volunteered to do the dirty work. The mage decided that my priest needed a disguise in order to get close enough. The mage happily helped out in that department obliged, by transforming my priest into a woman!

Of course, my priest got his revenge. His new disguise allowed him to get the captain in private and dispatch the captain in a formal ritual sacrifice to the dark goddess. And the mage's spell further enabled my priest to psychically link said mage to the victim. The end result, the mage experienced everything done to the captain as if it was happening to him. Ben thought the whole idea was a hoot. In fact, he wrote the entire scene for me because I didn't have time.

Of course, my choice of characters did create problems between me and at least one other player. Another friend, Jared, played a Druid. Jared was interested in Druidism himself at the time. And my priest character did a couple things (like steal the soul of a horse so that it would bend to his will) that freaked Jared out. Note that I said it freaked Jared out rather than his character. Jared was mad at me for days. That much was unfortunate. But as I explained to him, part of role-playing and fiction is allowing some characters to do things we wouldn't dream of doing in real life. After all, if all characters were the goody-two-shoes most of us try to be, our games and stories wouldn't be nearly as interesting.

And I admit that playing an evil character helped me write such characters much better.

The following is from the first chapter of a new story I'm working on:

Josh awoke with a start. He let out a strangled gasp before his mind began to process his surroundings. He looked round, finding himself in his own bedroom. His sheets were pushed off to one side, probably due to him moving around in his sleep. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He willed his heart to return to a slower rhythm. "It was only a dream. Only a dream," he whispered. "It doesn't mean anything. Guys dream about all kinds of things."

He knew that was true enough. He had done a bit of research online, and found that a lot of young guys dreamed about having sex with other guys and still grew up to be heterosexual. He'd even read that some experiment with male friends before going on to get married. So he tried to reassure himself that this one dream didn't mean he was one of those terrible homosexuals.

However, his mind kept nagging at him. This wasn't just one dream, after all. He had been having a few dreams like this since he turned fourteen nine months ago. He wondered if there was a point where it quit being something any normal teenager might experience and starting being the sign of something more serious.

"And it's not just the dreams," he whispered to himself as he lay there, confused and frightened. "After all, I've been getting those feelings when I'm awake too." He thought back to that afternoon he and Tim went skinny-dipping. While it had been innocent fun when they had actually gone swimming at age eleven, it morphed into something more sinister-seeming whenever he thought of it now. Tim had even suggested they go skinny dipping again this past summer. But the thoughts and feelings it stirred in Josh kept him coming up with excuses to put off such an excursion.

Josh lay there, feeling more miserable the more he thought about everything. He wondered how his parents, who raised him to be a good little Baptist boy, would react if he told them he was attracted to other guys. He wondered if they would send him to counseling or even disown him. He was too afraid to find out.

And yet, he yearned to tell someone, anyone. He hated having to keep this secret. It felt like a terrible burden - a burden he didn't want - to carry alone. And yet, he didn't know anyone he could tell. He was pretty sure everyone he knew would react badly.

"No, you're on your own on this one. Just try to make the best of it," he told himself. Then he added in a quick prayer, "God, please help me. And forgive me. I don't want to be gay. I want to do what you want me to." He rolled over and waited for sleep to claim him again, to give him a break from all his worries and doubts.

If you like it, please read the rest of the chapter and follow the story using the links above.  I hope to write more soon.  And of course, feel free to check out the rest of my portfolio on Writing.Com.  Though I'll warn you that some of the other stories are sexually explicit.

The old woman continued her weaving.  Her slender, gnarled fingers deftly moved along the loom, positioning threads and locking them in place.  She studied her handiwork for several seconds before speaking to the younger man who stood behind her.  "What's on your mind, Jeffrey?"

"You make the most beautiful tapestries, Grandmother."

"Thank you.  I've had many years to practice."

"And yet, it takes you so long to finish a single one."

The woman frowned and her hand paused in its work.  "Good craftsmanship takes time and patience, Dear."

"Perhaps.  But there are machines that would allow you to work faster, Grandmother."

"And those machines would rob me of the joy I find in my work.  Working faster would be a poor substitute for the care and love I put into each tapestry."

"But working faster would mean having more tapestries to sell."

The woman sighed and turned to face the forty year old man.  She noted that he was still in the dress pants and shirt that his job required, though he had taken off the tie and jacket.  "And that would mean more money."  She smiled as his pale face flushed at her words.  "Yes, I thought you might be coming to that.  It usually does with you."

"Grandmother-"

"No, Jeffrey," she said in a soft, firm tone.  "Listen to your old grandmother.  You are a good man.  You're smart, and your business sense has provided much for our family.  For that, I am proud of you.

"But sometimes you seem to only think in terms of money.  And for that, I feel sorry for you.  Because some things are more important than money.  And my weaving is one of those things.

"You're right.  I could buy machines that could help me produce a single tapestry in a few days, rather than the weeks it now takes me.  And if I was doing this for the money, it would make perfect sense to do exactly that.

"But I don't do this for the money.  I have money enough as it is - as hard as it may be for you to believe that.  Instead, I weave for the love of weaving.

"When I weave, I create something beautiful, as you already noted.  I create it thread by thread and row by row.  Each move I make is an act of love and creation, a chance to pour another ounce of my soul into each tapestry.  That's something I cherish.  It's something that the money from a thousand machine-produced tapestries could never buy.  And I'm not willing to give that up just to collect money I don't need.  It's too high a price to pay."

"But what of the things you could buy?  Things that would make your life easier?  More comfortable?"

"An easy life is overrated, as are excess comforts.  I have comforts enough.  Any more would make me value my life less, I imagine."

"Are you saying I have it too easy, then?"

"That's not for me to say, Dear.  I'm merely saying what's right for me.  You'll have to decide what's right for you."

"Oh."

The woman paused a moment.  "I do admit that I worry about you at times, though."

"You do?"

"Yes.  I sometimes wonder if you've lost sight of why you became a businessman."

"What do you mean?"

"I remember when you first went off to college.  Yo were so excited to learn about business management.  The first time you came home, you talked incessantly about your classes.  I didn't understand most of what you said, but I loved your passion and excitement.

"You took that passion and excitement into your first job, too.  You spoke of the challenges you faced enthusiastically.  You loved the problems and puzzles you solved.  Back then, it was about the adventure.

"But at some point, it seemed like you began focusing on the money.  And the passion changed.  Some days, I wonder if it's there at all."

"I see."  The man sat down heavily.

"Do you, Dear?  Don't misunderstand me.  Money's not bad.  And you've always made a lot of money doing what you do, which is right.  But before, you thought of the money as a side effect of doing something you loved.  And now, it seems as though the money is your main motivation - maybe even your only motivation.  And that change seems to have stolen something from you."

The pair sat in silence for a few moments.  Finally, Jeffrey spoke.  "I think I need to ponder this some more."

"I hope you do, Dear.  I'd really like to see that fire in your eyes again when you talk about your latest venture or investment.  It's a wonderful sight."

"It's a wonderful feeling, too.  I think I'd forgotten that."  He walked to the door, then paused.  "Grandmother?"

"The old woman looked up from the weaving she had returned to.  "Yes, Dear?"

"How did you ever get so wise?"

"Years of living and learning."  She paused, then added, "And weaving."

"Weaving?"

"Yes, Dear.  When you pend this much time in front of a loom, you have plenty of time to think."

He chuckled as he left the room.

Recent conversations over at Slacktivist have increased my interest in writing again.  Hopefully this will lead to some actual writing in the near future.

The main conversation that has gotten me thinking was the discussion about Mary Sue's taking place in the comments section of Fred's latest Left Behind post.  Wikipedia defines a Mary Sue thusly:

A Mary Sue (sometimes just Sue), in literary criticism and particularly in fanfiction, is a fictional character with overly idealized and hackneyed mannerisms, lacking noteworthy flaws, and primarily functioning as wish-fulfillment fantasies for their authors or readers.

The discussion of Mary Sue's made me wonder about my own writing and my own characters.  I began to wonder if I have been creating any Mary Sue's.  So I ran three of my characters through the Universal Mary Sue Litmus Test.  All three came out with a score that fell in the "most likely Not-Sue" category, though they were all on the high end of that range.  And a separate litmus test did suggest that Berit may be shading into "Borderline Mary Sue" territory.  This is a fair assessment, I think.  As such, I'll be watching her character and how she affects the story somewhat carefully.

I think that what gets me about Mary Sues is that one of the seemingly primary traits is their ridiculous degree of perfection and capability.  Cactus Wren offers a powerful example of this trait when she describes a Mary Sue from a particular Harry Potter fan fiction author:

Callmebuck always reminds me of a particular Pottersue, a fifteen-year-old transfer student from America who was impossibly beautiful, slender yet curvy, had an IQ of 520 and ten given names, and besides being a more talented witch than Hermione was a brilliant actress and singer and stage director and filmmaker and was friends with all the characters from CardCaptor Sakura. (Who just happened to also be studying at Hogwarts.) And she was rich (her family had "estates" in about eight countries) and fluent in a dozen languages. Whenever anyone pointed out that this character was just too perfect to be tolerable, that she needed some flaws to keep the rest of the cast from killing her, the writer wailed, "But I can't think of anyyyyy!"

Now personally, I can't imagine writing such a Mary Sue, at least not that one extreme.  None of my characters are masters of every trade out there.  Nor can I picture them being so perfect.  I like my characters to be more human than that.  After all relatively ordinary human beings are what I find most interesting, personally.

Of course, reading through the litmus tests, I do find myself wondering if I'm not in danger of writing my characters as all being too likable and too agreeable.  After all, a story needs conflict, and personality clashes offer a great source of conflict.  So maybe I need to think a bit more about actually showing the conflict between Berit and Brother Jens that I've imagined all along.  Perhaps I need to work on those grating personality traits.  And of course, I need to working on having characters respond appropriately when those traits manifest.

It gives me a few things to think about.  And all this thinking is creating a desire to do some writing.  Now that's a bonus.

Recent conversations over at Slacktivist have increased my interest in writing again.  Hopefully this will lead to some actual writing in the near future.

The main conversation that has gotten me thinking was the discussion about Mary Sue's taking place in the comments section of Fred's latest Left Behind post.  Wikipedia defines a Mary Sue thusly:

A Mary Sue (sometimes just Sue), in literary criticism and particularly in fanfiction, is a fictional character with overly idealized and hackneyed mannerisms, lacking noteworthy flaws, and primarily functioning as wish-fulfillment fantasies for their authors or readers.

The discussion of Mary Sue's made me wonder about my own writing and my own characters.  I began to wonder if I have been creating any Mary Sue's.  So I ran three of my characters through the Universal Mary Sue Litmus Test.  All three came out with a score that fell in the "most likely Not-Sue" category, though they were all on the high end of that range.  And a separate litmus test did suggest that Berit may be shading into "Borderline Mary Sue" territory.  This is a fair assessment, I think.  As such, I'll be watching her character and how she affects the story somewhat carefully.

I think that what gets me about Mary Sues is that one of the seemingly primary traits is their ridiculous degree of perfection and capability.  Cactus Wren offers a powerful example of this trait when she describes a Mary Sue from a particular Harry Potter fan fiction author:

Callmebuck always reminds me of a particular Pottersue, a fifteen-year-old transfer student from America who was impossibly beautiful, slender yet curvy, had an IQ of 520 and ten given names, and besides being a more talented witch than Hermione was a brilliant actress and singer and stage director and filmmaker and was friends with all the characters from CardCaptor Sakura. (Who just happened to also be studying at Hogwarts.) And she was rich (her family had "estates" in about eight countries) and fluent in a dozen languages. Whenever anyone pointed out that this character was just too perfect to be tolerable, that she needed some flaws to keep the rest of the cast from killing her, the writer wailed, "But I can't think of anyyyyy!"

Now personally, I can't imagine writing such a Mary Sue, at least not that one extreme.  None of my characters are masters of every trade out there.  Nor can I picture them being so perfect.  I like my characters to be more human than that.  After all relatively ordinary human beings are what I find most interesting, personally.

Of course, reading through the litmus tests, I do find myself wondering if I'm not in danger of writing my characters as all being too likable and too agreeable.  After all, a story needs conflict, and personality clashes offer a great source of conflict.  So maybe I need to think a bit more about actually showing the conflict between Berit and Brother Jens that I've imagined all along.  Perhaps I need to work on those grating personality traits.  And of course, I need to working on having characters respond appropriately when those traits manifest.

It gives me a few things to think about.  And all this thinking is creating a desire to do some writing.  Now that's a bonus.

Be still. Know beauty. Let it flow from the depths of your soul. For that is its source. Let it flow through you into the rest of the world. Let it flow and watch as it is reflected back at you.

This is the nature of beauty. It is perceived and projected. it can only be seen by those who allow it to come from themselves. There is as much beauty in the word as you put into it.

Those who say beauty is transitory are wrong. Beauty is eternal, for it is an essence that flows into and through the cosmos. What is transitory is your own willingness to see it.

Yesterday, I bought a copy of How NOT to Write a Novel and began reading it. I learned about the book reading the comments over at Slacktivist, and the title (not to mention the part Fred's commentor quoted) just called to me.

The book is written by a couple of people in the publishing industry. They decided that rather than writing another book filled with hit-or-miss techniques for writing a great novel, they'd describe the numerous mistakes that fledgeling authors make, mistakes which guarantee their manuscript will find the shortest path to the recycling bin.

So far, I've finished the three chapters having to do with common plot mistakes. I'm pleased to report that I've so far managed to avoid most of those in Harald's Story. However, the one section did give me reason to reconsider an early scene in the story. I don't plan on removing or editing it yet, as I think I can justify the scene and it's not that bad -- at least not in my opinion. But when I finish the first draft, I'll go back and look at it as part of the editorial process.

The book itself is rather humorous. I think the examples of bad writing they provide are even funnier. A lot of them involve some sort of fusion between ergonomics and hydraulics, which is just plain weird. I'm starting to wonder if they've chosen to weirdness of the plot device to further emphasize the bad writing they're trying to draw potential writers' attentions to. Or perhaps they created such a totally bizarre subject to avoid hurting anyone's feelings by choosing something that might resemble a potential reader's own poor attempts at writing.

I've been writing a lot of posts about the writing I've been doing. I think I may be getting obssessed. I'm not sure that's a bad thing, though.

Tonight, I wrote the next installment of Harald's Story. If I did everything correctly, it should automatically show up on WOTL tomorrow. At this juncture, I thought it appropriate to offer some of my own musings on this story, and possibly on writing in general.

The section I wrote tonight contains a couple events of significance. The first event is the departure of Father Delling from the tale. Strangely, his passage into the shadows is rather understated, given how fond I and some of my readers have become of him. There's no fanfare or grand speeches. In fact, the goodbyes themselves are not recorded because they are observed from a distance. And yet, this seems appropriate for the old monk. I do not know if he will return. I have played with the possibility that he might make a brief appearance as the story wraps itself up. But even that is merely a possibility.

The other event of significance is not about plot, but the storytelling itself. I have added a new point of view to the narration. This new section is told from the point of view of Captain Soren. To be honest, this both surprises me an troubles me. When I introduced his character, I had no intention of telling his point of view. And yet, tonight's work made it clear that it was appropriate to do so.

This troubles me because I find myself wondering if Soren, a character I introduced to play a relatively small part, might have just taken on a bigger role than I had planned. I grant you that he would not be the first character in the story to do so. Both Berit (who I planned to deny even a name beyond "Girl" when I first imagined her) and Brother Jens were originally introduced as small actors meant to merely push the plot along, and somehow managed to insert themselves into the heart of the tale against my own plans.

Alas, I am a poor author at the mercy of his characters! I fear they may next demand that I include their names be added to the author line. Or perhaps one of them will make mention of their cut of any royalties. It's an amusing thought, though I'm not sure how amusing it really is.

I think the next installment I write will likely be told from Jens's point of view. I'm a bit concerned by that possibility, as I'm not sure I can catch his inner voice correctly. Point of view can be tricky like that, and Jens is possibly the character whose point of view is most difficult for me. I'm not sure whether that's due to how unfamiliar his mindset has become to me or how familiar it used to be.

I'm reminded of a friend of mine, whom I shall call Trish. Six or seven years ago, she tried her hand at writing. For her, writing was one of the ways for her to try to process through her own confusion and resentment toward her funamentalist Christian background. Her main villain was a domineering woman who embodied everything she despised about those from Trish's background that had hurt her. To put it mildly, this villain was a caricature of pure evil. And unless you're trying to write a fairy tale, such caricature's don't really work that well. Fortunately, Trish was trying to write a fairy tale.

Unfortunately for Trish, she tried to write a few chapters from her villains point of view. I can honestly say that those chapters did not work at all. A narrator who oozes that much evil is simply unbelievable, even in a fairy tale. Under such circumstances, you have to make the person's point of view seem at least someone reasonable, even if it's ultimately objectionable.

I sincerely hope that my efforts to relay Brother Jens's point of view is more realistic than Trish's portrayal of the inner workings of her villain's mind. But I still worry that I'll be able to do it justice. Hopefully Brother Jens himself will step up and guide me through the process, as so many of the others have already done.

I think that it's safe to say that my question and answer exercise has wound down. It was a fun exercise, and I'm almost sad to see that it's already over. However, I'm hoping to try it again someday, perhaps in three to six months.

I actually did this exercise on three different blogs or diaries and got different questions and answers at each site. I decided that it might be fun to post a link to each of the resulting entries. So below, you will find a complete list, organized according to the blog or diary they appeared on.

The Musings of a Confused Man
Speak not of such things for the frighten me!
A rose by any other name?
The things kids discuss during class! (Content is somewhat mature.)
Spiritual Sexuality and Sexy Spirituality

Passions and Reflections
My biggest purchase
Sounding off about a clapping hand
How embarrassing!
As if I need any more changes!
Driving down the polytheism highway
Engendering differences
God-bothering etiquette
Okay, so some might think me a morbid god

Jarred's Slice of Heaven
Plus it strikes me as a REAL mockery of marriage
Start spreading the news...
Happy bundle of sticks

While checking out my site stats this morning, I discovered that someone found me by following a link from a site I'd never heard of before. As I'm always fascinated to find someone new who is linking to me, I went to check out the page that linked to me. After reading the first paragraph, it quickly became obvious to me that the author of the other blog had decided to repost my "panacea" post from March 2007.

Now, I'll admit that I'm always delighted when someone finds value in something I wrote and wants to share it with other people. In many ways, it's a great honor to discover that someone redistributed an entire post that I wrote. Granted, I'd be even more pleased if they linked back to my original post (this particular blogger linked back to my blog, which I appreciate), and then only quoted portions of my work on their site with their own commentary. After all, it'd be nice to know why they found my writings so valuable and added their own ideas to the mix. It's that whole creative feedback process. But not everyone does that, and I understand. And perhaps there are those cases where reprinting the entire post makes sense, especially if the site doing the reprinting is a repository of articles on a similar theme.

One thing about such occurrences does bother me, however. That's the fact that the the people who occasionally reprint my posts don't contact me before doing so. As a rule, doing so is considered good manners and possibly even an ethical imperative. It might seem strange to some people, but there are some good reasons why you should always contact someone before reprinting something they've written (or even quoting parts of it):

1. It allows authors to track the impact their writing has.
Simply put, as a writer, I like to know what kind of audience my writing is getting. So if someone picks up one of my posts and says, "Hey this is so good, I want to share it with others," I want to know about it! And if they repost it online, I want to be able to follow it there and see what kinds of responses it gets. Again, this goes back to that whole concept of feedback being part of the creative process.

2. It helps authors preserve their intellectual property rights.
Even bloggers have a right to "own" what they write, and it's important that others respect those IP rights. Now, I personally tend to be rather generous about this sort of thing. It's unlikely that I would ever deny someone the opportunity to quote or reprint something I wrote on my blog. I'd just ask them to acknowledge me as the author and link back to my blog (or otherwise give their readers a way to contact me). However, there are other bloggers who may feel differently. In fact, I remember a blogger who ran into a bit of a situation not too long ago. This particular blogger happens to be a freelance writer. A print newspaper picked up one of her posts and decided to print it in one of their issues. The problem with this is that this blogger had already planned on rewriting this particular post into an article that she planned to submit to various publications. The fact that the paper snatched up her blog post without talking to her created issues for her ability to modify and sell her own work. Fortunately, the paper who printed her post without permission was more than happy to compensate her for their error. But the point is, it's important that you talk to someone before redistributing something they wrote to make sure you don't create such problems for them.

3. It gives authors the opportunity to revise their work.
As much as I'd like to keep up this image of being this fantastic writer, I have to admit that some of my blog posts are not as well polished as they could be. This has led to one memorable occasion when I winced to find something I threw together somewhat quickly tucked into a repository of articles on another site. As I read it, I began to notice a number weaknesses in the post. Had the individual asked me for permission to include that particular post in their collection, I almost certainly would've offered to do a major rewrite first so that they would have a far better article to reprint.

Today, I dcedided to play around with the information that Xinu Returns provided about my blog. I discovered that some search engines reported a link to my blog from this page. So naturally I decided to check it out. Imagine my surprise when I discovered it was a cut and paste of my blog entry about ritual nudity. (I reread that entry and still love it, by the way.)

I have to admit that I'm rather flattered that someone found something I wrote so worthwhile that they put it up on their site. It's nice to get that kind of compliment. Of course, I also would've liked it if they had contacted me to ask permission. I would've gladly granted it to them. (Though I might've offered to polish the rough edges first, as I was writing informally for my blog rather than working on what I would consider a high quality article meant for publication).

And of course, I would've also told them how I'd like to be credited for it. Currently, the page gives no authorship information, though I will note they graciously included a link back to my original blog post. I'm thinking about contacting the site and asking them to add a note of authorship to the page.

The only other thing that bothers me is that it's posted under the category of "Traditional Craft." While I can certainly understand why they put it in that category, it does leave me concerned that someone might get the wrong idea -- namely that I'm claiming to be a Traditional Witch of any kind. (At this time I'm not.) And I hate even implying (or having others imply on my behalf) that my occasional musings on such topics are in any sense authoritative. Because to be honest, they're not. So I may also ask about having some sort of disclaimer added in addition to my name.

I lost my cell phone this morning. When I got to the customer site, I went to take it off my belt, only to find the belt clip was empty. I couldn't do anything about it, so I prayed that I somehow left it at home (not really a possibility, given the belt clip was with me) and went in to work. After work, I decided to run right home to check. My neighbor came out the front door as I got out of my car. It turns out that I had lucked out. Apparently, I knocked the silly thing off while dusting the snow off my car this morning. My neighbor had come home at lunch and found it. So I thanked him profusely and hopped back into my car to head for Equal Grounds.

I almost went to Jitters here in Henrietta instead. As of yesterday, the POC started having our weekly Meet and Greets there, and I found it an incredibly enjoyable place. However, I decided I wanted the slightly more cozy atmosphere of my old haunt, so I made the drive to the South Wedge. While there, I wrote some erotica and the next chapter of Journey.

While there, a couple other patrons watched Hide and Seek. I glanced up from time to time to watch the giant screen (it was less than four feet from me) for a few seconds, but I mainly focused on the writing. From what I saw, it was a pretty bizarre movie, and I never expected the ending.

The new chapter in Journey is about my longest relationship. It was a strange one to write. I'm finding that as the events I'm writing about get closer and closer to the modern day, it's a little harder to write. Of course, part of that is because the issues Ihave to write about are things I'm still working on in some sense. This became apparent as I wrote the last few paragraphs of this chapter. I realized that the end of that relationship was about realizing what I deserved and demanding it. That's something I'm still working on right now, and the need to continue insisting on the kind of love, affection, and attention I both want and deserve is a lesson that's getting driven home right now.

Once again, I find myself looking at the calendar to find the words "April 1st" written in simple letters. And once again, I find myself thinking about the special significance those words have for me. For those who may be new to this blog or my life, those words mark the anniversary of the day I came out to myself and a very good friend. And while I stated last year that I'm not big on commemorating yearly anniversaries of "life-changing events," I've decided that I will make note of this particular anniversary again this year. Perhaps my opinion on such commemorations is changing, and this will become a normal practice for me. Or perhaps this is just one more of a tiny number of exceptions to that attitude. In the end, it doesn't matter. I simply feel called to write this post, and I will do so. I'll worry about the implications some other day.

Part of the reason I feel particularly called to do this again this year is that this has been a year of changes for me, sexuality-wise. Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm still a raging homo with an attitude. I sincerely doubt that will ever change. But over the past year, I think I've gone through some growth periods that will ultimately allow me to express my sexuality more freely and comfortably. So this anniversary post is about reviewing a few of those changes.

I think the most notable change came around my thirty-second birthday this past June. I spent the weekend hanging out at the psychic fair that the POC did. I spent both days ogling the cute guys that walked through and talking about them with a friend the entire time. Now, this isn't entirely a new practice for me. However, it was the first time I've done so without trying to be a little discreet and worrying about whether the guys I'm checking out noticed. As this particular weekend went by, however, I became less and less concerned about anyone noticing. I got bolder, and probably more than a little out of control by the time the event was over. I remember one friend sat by me and commented that if I kept making some of the sounds (mostly a very interested "hmmm" sounds), people were going to realize what I was doing. In that moment, I realized that I really didn't care if they did. I figured if some guy realized I was checking him out, he should feel flattered. And if he was really flattered, he should come over and say hi!

That same weekend, my attitudes about myself and my body started to change. I began to realize that I really was a good looking guy. I also realized that I needed to come to believe in myself as a sexually attractive man, despite my own hang-ups about my body-image. Since June, that's been a highly common theme in my life, and I've found an increasing ability to look in the mirror and smile, knowing that there really is a good looking guy smiling back at me from that reflective surface.

Of course, my recent relationship, though terribly short-lived, also helped me in that realm. The young man I ended up getting involved with went through a great deal of effort to pursue me (though not as much effort as the next one may find necessary, as I've now found the bliss of being pursued) gave me the first inkling that yes, there really were guys out there who could also see my allure. And despite my sadness over how things went, that realization is something I continue to carry with me, and hopefully always will.

The other major change in my life has been Journey, of course. The past year has involved a germination process which ended in the site's release just this past month. However, the idea for the book can probably be traced back to this past summer as well.

One of my greatest goals since coming out has been to encourage and help other gay and bisexual people in their own self-discovery and coming out process. It's a goal that I first reached towards just a year or two after my own coming out when I wrote a moving essay encouraging others to accept themselves for who they are. To me, Journey is an extension of that same effort.

I originally started formally collecting notes for Journey and even writing a very rough draft back in October. I still have the journal I used, and have even referred to it to see if I missed anything when writing the pages for the site. Back then, I had planned on turning Journey into a book, which had no title. It wasn't until events in March convinced me that a website was the preferred medium for the project.

Writing Journey has been a journey in itself. Indeed, it's become part of the very journey I'm writing about, just a later part of the story. It's given me many chances to look back at many of the struggles I've faced and wounds I've needed to heal and gauge my progress. In many cases, it has been exhilarating and shown me in concrete ways just how much I've healed in grown. In some cases, it's served as a somewhat painful reminder of those areas where I still need to work. In the end, I find myself wondering who will benefit most from the project when all is said and done. Those I had in mind when starting it or myself?

As I sit here today, thinking about all of these things, I find myself filling with a peaceful contentment and glowing pride. While I never saw it during most of the past twelve months, I can consider these things and realize that I've done a lot of growing in the past year. But more importantly, I can see the next layer of foundation that I laid to continue that growth process over the coming year. So my contentment and pride are ultimately married with a sense of anticipation and excitement for the next stage of the journey. Is there a better position to be in than that?

I mentioned in my last post that my friend, Belinda, read Journey for the first time today. What I forgot to mention was the interesting question she asked me. After reading the page called "An Emotionally Immature Adult," she turned to me and asked if I felt exhausted whenever I finished writing part of my story. She explained that she thinks she would be, given how intensely personal and moving it is.

To be honest, I feel many things when I write down the various parts of my story. I have to admit that after writing many sections (including the one she finished before asking that question), I often feel quite vulnerable and nervous. I feel like I'm ready for a break and need to do something else. But as of yet, I have yet to feel exhausted. If anything, I usually have quite the opposite reaction. I feel energized, and while I want to get away from the writing and give my heart and mind time to recover from the process, I definitely want to do something.

In many ways, being able to write my story has helped me to find another level of release. As I right each part, I know that I've put it "out there," and am no longer carrying it around inside. And while it's frightening because there are certain aspects of my life that I'm not sure how everyone will respond to, it also comes with a sense of freedom. No matter what happens, no matter how anyone chooses to react, what's done is done. I've allowed my heart and my mind to speak their peace. And that's far from exhausting. It's actually rather rejuvenating.

Today was a great day. I managed to get out of the house around quarter of noon and headed up to the POC to hang out with Belinda during the healing clinic. Nobody showed up today, so we just ended up sitting around and talking. I took my laptop so that Belinda could read the local copy of Journey. She absolutely loved it, though she was frustrated that I hadn't written more. She got to the last page in the series and just sat there going, "That's it?" She also found a couple of typos I made, which I fixed and just uploaded.

When we finally decided to leave the POC, we decided to go to a late lunch at Red Lobster. She had the Shrimp Linguini Alfredo. Not being a seafood fan (but I love the garlic biscuits they serve at Red Lobster), I decided to go with the Cajun Chicken Linguini Alfredo. We both loved our meals, and there were a lot of cute waiters to check out. (We each commented on which ones we liked.)

After lunch, I brought my leftovers back to the house, then decided to go someplace for a walk. I was only a little after five and the day was absolutely beautiful. I decided to drive over to Shoen Place and park so that I could walk the trail along the canal. It was the first time I've walked the trail, and it was absolutely gorgeous. It's surprising how peaceful the area can be. You don't realize it driving along Route 96 in the same area.

After my walk, I ran to Target. I decided that with the weather warming up, I needed some more polo shirts. I only have three, and I can't wear tee shirts on the customer site like I do at my own office. While I was there, I also picked up a new belt. I've either lost weight or it's shifted, because my old belt wasn't doing a good job at holding up my pants anymore.

I also decided to get another package of underwear, as I'm running out of those, too. I had trouble picking out a package. I usually prefer to get a package that just has black and grey underwear in it, but all the packages today had other colors. I finally decided on the package that also had a blue pair and a red pair. I have to admit that I picked that package because something about the idea of wearing red undies amused me.

Overall, it was a pleasant and beautiful day. I'm thinking about topping it off with a movie this evening.