I’ve been thinking about this a lot. I always think about book titles. I want my title to be different. Another author posted on Facebook about how difficult it can be to come up with book titles and so I thought I’d just post this here because I have this issue too. I just don’t think a lot of authors like to admit how hard it is to come up with something original.
So anyone who’s written, or is writing, a book more than likely has fought with the dreaded title.
How do we pick a title?
Well, I don’t know about you all, but for me my title is built from the central theme of the book, from a subject within the story, or maybe a tagline or something that a character might constantly say. It might even grow from a central character’s personality. But, there was at least one time when I thought up a cool title and then said, yeah, I should write a book with that title. So, the title came first. Regardless, the title really was the central story idea.
Okay, so maybe you’ve been struggling, or not, with your title. Maybe you’re sure of the title, maybe you have two others on the back burner. Also, there’s THIS friend who offered you up an idea, and THAT friend who offered her title idea. These things are not helping, are they? Often, they confuse us more. Eventually, we choose a title. One that you think is da bomb. But, is it?
These are some steps many authors wrestle through before they find a fitting book title. So what do you do next? Me, I like a little authenticity, and I want exclusivity of a name. So when I settle on a name or two for a book, I utilize the Internet. I check Amazon, I Google it, check Goodreads and other databases. Why? Because if there are 5 books out there named “Night of the Living Dummy” I want to know this. I need to change the name of the book if there are 5 other books with the same name! Look at the books…2 comedies, 2 horrors…& 1 romance for “Night of the Living Dummy.” *Please note: I do not know if there is a book out there in the world today titled, Night of the Living Dummy. I just pulled the title out of my ass right now for this example.*
I’m so surprised that in this day and age an author would love his title so much that he’s willing to share it with 5 other authors, especially when the themes are similar. When a reader reads my book then returns it to a library, or maybe passes it on to friends, then someone asks, “Hey. I was trying to find Night of the Living Dummy on Amazon and 5 books came up. What’s the author’s name again?” Uh-oh… “Um, I don’t remember.” So you just lost a reader.
For example, I went to Amazon and typed in “blood lust.” Six books came up with that title and another couple variations. So which Blood Lust am I looking for?
I am thankful for technology and my library so that I can try to give my title some originality. If you check Amazon for Someday Always Comes, or Angel Maker or Cop Lover, or The Sheriff’s of Robertson County, you won’t find those exact titles. I made sure of that. Of course I cannot help what authors who come after me will do, or why they’ll name their suspense story Angel Maker when there’s already one there. Now if the genres are different, it might not be so bad as long as there is not 5 books.
I understand that often books may have the same or similar titles but be in different genres. So this can be helpful to the person looking for Night of the Living Dummy the romance, because there’s only one, so the the author’s name doesn’t matter as much anymore. But what if they were all horror?…No romance or comedy…just horror? It’s a slight hurdle.
Originality, however, can be hard to come by in genres overrun by good, but fast becoming cliche titles, such as vampire novels, crime dramas, and romance. My vampire series took me forever to name. The individual books might not be so hard to title, but the actual series name? Every one I came up with was already a series name or a book name…and used several times over. I finally, after a year, came up with two names that are not in Amazon’s database yet. Whew!
This can also be a problem with short stories and poems.
Maybe I’m just being too anal retentive about the whole book name issue. However, truth is, it’s hard to name a book with an original title that will stand out. What do you all think? I’d like to hear your thoughts on choosing titles. If you don’t write, but like to read, I’d also like to know what your thoughts are.
Something that anyone who does not know me personally wouldn’t know about me is that I am passionate about our law enforcement heroes. I support hard-working, brave, honest police officers world round who don’t act like bullies or criminals for no apparent cause. Now a genuine cause…that’s a whole different horse. And even so, most cops are the picture of grace under fire.
What the public refuses to understand (even though they know better) is cops have to do their jobs. They have bosses that bark orders, families to feed, rent to pay and taxes to dish out. They have to follow orders and fulfill their job duties. Just like you and me and everyone else in the world that works for the machine. I punch the time clock, you punch the time clock, they punch the time clock. Sometimes we’re doing something we love, often not. Sometimes we knew exactly what we were getting ourselves into, often not. Police officers get paid for doing what they’re supposed to do, just like us. Sometimes the public doesn’t like them, just like they don’t always like us.
I worked for Walmart. I worked as a cashier, at the courtesy desk and as a back up manager. Me and my co-workers have been terribly abused by you, the public. We’ve been hit, kicked, spit on, pushed called profane names, had things thrown at us…all in a day’s work. And I mean all in ONE DAY’S WORK. Walmart management does not care about this even though it’s not our jobs to have to put up with this. But it is a cop’s job. And guess what, Walmart doesn’t support it’s employees…we only have each other. Cops, their organization doesn’t support them either…they have to support each other too.
I was once downed by a customer who got pissed off by a member of management. Out of everything I endured during my Walmart employment…this was the worst. She stereotyped me. She was cursing at me, and I kindly asked her to stop because there were children nearby. She said, “Well, if you weren’t a high school drop out, maybe you could have a better job.” OMG! Fucking…right?
I looked at the dumb ass and said something like, “Ma’am, I am a college graduate. Not only do I have a bachelor’s degree, I graduated from one of the finest universities of its kind in the nation. Now, if you’d like me to prove that to you, just wait here. It’s about 15 minutes round trip to my home and back. I’ll bring you my degree as proof. And trust me, I have no problem showing it to you. What university did you graduate from?” Her mouth fell open. Speechless. Yes. I gotcha bitch. “Well, well then….” She turned around and huffed off without another word. You know…cops deal with similar situations every day. I’ll be truthful, if that had happened in the parking lot, I would’ve hit that slacker in the face. Then the cops would’ve had to come to keep me from ripping off her gorilla mug because I have a slight temper and might resort to violence. And, if I’m after a person to rip their mug off…nothing short of an officer of the law with a gun can step between us to stop me. So tread lightly around both of us. 😉
There is absolutely no reason to disrespect good, law abiding cops. In fact, I’ve experienced so much negativity by the public, I have a sincere compassion for them. I have preached this respect to people I’ve known over my lifetime and I do not care about their responses. One woman’s response was…”Well, there was this one cop who called me a bitch.” Okay. Why? “Well, he had no reason to stop me for speeding and I let him know it. That bastard. He was a bastard…and I told him so…He told me I didn’t have to act like a bitch for no reason. That I broke the law.” Really? Re-read that until you all get it. I said to her, “Did he say you were a bitch?” “Well, no, that I was acting like one.” Good lord. Grow up. What she didn’t tell me was that while she was trying to engage this cop with her smart ass attitude, she threw a tantrum and grabbed his pen and threw it on the ground and stepped on it, then threatened to step on his toe. WTF? *insert laughter here*
At some point in their lives, just about every citizen will have an encounter with a police officer, and not just because they nod to each other while passing on the street, or because cops are the safer people to ask for directions while visiting an unfamiliar place. I mean, there will be an encounter for a reason. I’ve had a few such encounters…some where I challenged the officer’s integrity…because I can be a smart-ass sometimes. Once, I challenged a cop with a legitimate question to which he had no real answer and had to peddle all over to prove to me he was correct…and his own answer proved him wrong and it incited his sarcastic side. I just laughed at him. *shrug* It was better than losing my composure and cursing like a fool. That would’ve been uncalled for. Why should cops have to maintain grace when I don’t?
I’ve always been one to challenge authority without breaking laws. However, when I was young I had a bad habit of taking people for granted. And a cop did not teach me different, my father did (as parents are supposed to!) when he pulled a stunt on me so frightening (to teach me a lesson) that I stopped taking people and things for granted. But, I never stopped challenging authority overall. My father taught me to question everything and I do. I challenged my teachers, my clergy, the law, my parents and my bosses and company policies. There are other good, positive and helpful ways to challenge authorities, policies, the government. And treating cops like dirt because your government pisses you off isn’t the way. Anyway…that’s a blog for another day.
So, an encounter with police can be good or bad. Your opinion of them can be good or bad. However, most of the time how you perceive law enforcement is a view caused by what type of person you are, sociologically speaking. People with criminal intent, or those who are encouraged to protect those with criminal intent, tend to view cops as a negative force to be dealt with in a negative way.
For a long time, someone close to me hated cops. “They don’t do shit for you!” she often spouted. “They’re untrustworthy garbage. Pigs.” But, this person had a reason for feeling this way… Oh yes. A good one. Just listen to it: Her significant other beat her up for the thousandth time, and the cops didn’t show up fast enough. Because all those times she didn’t prosecute while they were willing to help her…was their fault. It was all their fault that her old man was a piece of trash. What could they do? Each city, each state has their laws. They asked if they could help her and she said no. Yet she kept dialing 911. They came to the house once to search for the beast. He was hiding upstairs. She knew where he was, but did not turn him over…even after it was her who called the cops. So she projected her feelings about her spouse onto the cops. She got hit, called the cops, then begged them NOT to help her. It was the cops’ burden to bear… And it always will be.
On the lighter side. My sister grew up in the 70s. Cops were “the fuzz” back then. *laughing hysterically* When I was just about 8 yrs old, I asked her why are cops the fuzz. She said, “Because they stick to you.” What she didn’t tell me, is why they stick to you. My thoughts are – and because my sister was a good, gullible kid for the most part, she didn’t know why they stick to you. You see, it’s unhappy, often criminal, citizens who make up tag lines for cops: fuzz, pigs, oinkers, coppers, Boss Hog…and who knows what else. I mean, as soon as the average citizen doesn’t agree with something their neighbor has said and done…the neighbor becomes the jerk, the know-it-all, the dubmass, what have you. It’s the way humans operate and label one another.
In my book, Someday Always Comes, the narrator, 16 year old Tessa Price has a very negative view of cops throughout the book. That was a stance many of my teenaged friends had then (1985). We were after all what would eventually be labeled as Generation X. And we still can’t be beat.
Here’s one of my true encounters with police which I shall try to relate with dignity and humor. When I was, oh…maybe 19 (1988-89 or so), I was sitting in a parking lot of a fast food restaurant. I was in the parking lot in my car with my boyfriend’s brother. We were just sitting there, smoking and talking, waiting for his girlfriend to show up. This couple approached us. They were neighborhood people…kind people…genuine…honest and the parents of a couple of great kids. They used to be hardworking, tax paying people. But somehow they became heroine addicts; known drug users and hustlers. They were good people who got caught up in a terrible loop they couldn’t get out of. I liked them. I really enjoyed talking to the woman. She understood me, and never at any time did she ever offer me dope, or try to convince me to use. (BTW, she got out of that mess a few years later. Thank heaven!)
So, we’re talking. The couple was standing on the passenger side of the car talking with us through the window. Me…the huge law breaker that I was at 19…had expired license plates, no city sticker and so was operating an illegal vehicle. Woo-hoo! Go me.
So, an unmarked cop car manned by a Pink Panther duo shows up. They position their car behind mine. They did that so I couldn’t drive away, of course. I had no where to go anyway. But it’s procedure, you see.
Anyway, Pink & Pink get out of the car and proceed to interrogate the couple. Of course, these two “narcs” were neighborhood cops…and I was very familiar with them as they patrolled our hood for years. They were all too familiar with the couple we were talking to. And sadly so. So, they frisked the guy. They don’t touch the woman since they were both male cops. They asked my friend and me to get out of the car and for no apparent reason, Meanie Pink dumps my purse ignorantly all over the trunk of my car and I stand there biting my lip as my shit rolls off the car and onto the ground. Despite that…I stood there with my arms crossed, my body language clearly challenging that cop to make one wrong move toward me. My first inclination was to punch that prick in the face because, while he was doing his job, he didn’t have to be so ignorant while doing so. I certainly gave him no cause to treat me like a dog. The female druggie was pleading with the jerk, saying I have nothing and did nothing; that we were just talking. His partner, Goodie Pink, on the other hand, just stood there with an odd look on his face that said to me how unnecessary all of that was.
Meanie Pink then decided he needed to search my car because my boyfriend’s brother was known for pot in the neighborhood and may have had dealings with the law in the past. I, however, have never had negative dealings with the law and did not use drugs, never have since then either. I was not a delinquent and although Meanie Pink deserved a shot in his kisser (& honestly, I have a bad temper!)…I complied with the law all the while he misbehaved.
Meanie Pink then got in my car and searched everything; nearly ripped my dashboard off trying to find something that might be hidden in there. What did Meanie expect to fucking find?… Elvis Presley? Jimmy fucking Hoffa? WTF, Meanie! You’re just mad ’cause your partner’s better looking than you! (Or so I remember my teenaged mind yelling.)
After his efforts to intimidate me, he had to play 20 questions about who I was and why I was there. I told him that I was always there! WTF…It’s a restaurant 2 blocks from my house. You know me, jerk wad!
Goodie Pink steps in and says something like, “There’s nothing here. Let’s go.” Well, Meanie has other plans. No, he forgot to look in the trunk. So he takes me keys out of the ignition, opens my trunk. Mind you, my purse is still on top of the trunk lid along with the few things that didn’t fall off. Well, guess what? Yup. He opens the trunk and the rest of my shit slides off. Damn you, Meanie Pink! I hope you choke on your next doughnut!
So when Meanie was done with his peacock display of power, he headed for his unmarked car, while I bent down to collect my belongings cursing him under my breath. Goodie Pink decided to help me, and he whispered, “I’m sorry.” Well, I’m sure Meanie didn’t hear that, but he wasted no time in COMMANDING his partner back to the vehicle. But, you know what? Goodie Pink’s sincere apology made me think less of Meanie and more about what kind of person Goodie was. I knew that there were more Goodies on the force than Meanies. I don’t know why Meanie was mean. Maybe life made him that way. But, Goodie was no younger than Meanie was, and therefore probably had the same exposure to life as Meanie. I guess it’s a matter of how we process and deal with stuff. Or maybe Meanie was just always a meanie. But, being a meanie doesn’t necessarily make you a criminal. It just means you’re disrespectful.
I could’ve stereotyped Goodie as being a meanie. I mean, after all, he let that cop treat me like a junkie. But, Goodie probably had his reasons. I don’t blame him that his partner acted like a jerk wad. And now as an adult, I realize that if…back at that point in time…while this whole display of thug-ness was going on, if some trash drove by that parking lot and started shooting at us, Meanie would’ve changed his focus and tried to save me, just as Goodie would have. At this time in my life, I really don’t think Meanie was a bad cop, he was just, well….a meanie.
What makes a bad cop? Well, I consider myself an educated citizen and a good judge of character in general. I consider bad cops those that steal drug money or dope they seize, or watch child porn, participate in wife beating, or human trafficking, among a slew of other things. But, and despite the brotherhood mentality, a lot of good cops can be looked upon as bad when they cover up the faults of their fellow officers. How confusing to have to make that choice.
Who speaks out against good officers? Cowards, that’s who. And even I couldn’t have said it better than this newsman, Glenn Beck. This broadcast deserves to be shared worldwide for all cop bash-ers to see. Yes, for people who will never have to stand in their shoes or the shoes of their children, and for those who do not have police officers among their family or friends. And it’s a good video to watch for those who do not know how to utilize a police officer, or a police department. Often, mis-utilization of one’s sources often causes disregard of those sources.
I have a lifelong friend – a 35 yr friendship – who is a big-city police officer. Our lives have sent us in separate directions and we don’t see each other much, but very seldom does a week go by that I don’t think of her. And, guess what, I reflect less on our friendship but more on the fact that she’s a cop for 2 decades already. And because of my love and respect for her, I thank the gods she’s never been shot, or stabbed or beat to death by some thug who doesn’t deserve to live. Thankfully, she’s no longer on the street but working in some other capacity. It makes me feel better that there’s a lesser chance she’ll be shot down by some bank-robbing fillth-bag who’s too sorry to work for a living at Walmart or Dairy Queen like the rest of us.
My stepfather’s son spent around 30 years with a county sheriff’s office. While I didn’t interact with him regularly, I was, and still am, inspired by that. My stepfather was proud though he never voiced it, and I know how his son’s job affected his life.
Growing up, I had a neighbor who had a cop for a son. For some odd reason, I was always happy to see him stop by the neighborhood. My brother has a friend who’s been a big-city cop for over 20 years. What makes them stay so long?
I worked for a short time in police services, and since then I’ve been wanting to re-enter that environment. I saw everything they do; everything they are. I saw how these seemingly normal men and women had to deal with their shift even once out of the squad car. I transcribed their dictated reports. I had to type about child rape, and murder and theft, and horrific accidents. The descriptions of what these cops saw made me want to hide in a closet for life, or more often than not…my stomach balled up in knots and I wanted to puke. My anger and hatred toward the perpetrators I listened about and transcribed about fueled an odd hatred for society. But after discussing it with the right people, I realized that not everyone in society does these terrible things, and even less condone it. Just like not every cop is bad, nor even a Meanie Pink.
I had to leave that job for reasons out of my control really. I wish I never did. I looked upon those officers, and my other co-workers who shared that darkness with me, like they were my family. I had become a part of something I didn’t fully understand before that time. I felt a part of something bigger than myself that was full of secrets and mystery, and when I left that brotherhood of police services, I left my “children” behind. And I don’t mean that in a derogatory way, but in a caring way. These people that are looked upon by some in society as the enemy…as terrible, awful men and women, treated me with more respect than anyone ever in my life including my real family.
Thank you, Glenn Beck for this wonderfully powerful charge in favor of cops everywhere. They are human beings with a burden that takes a special person to bear.
Here’s a little something to consider. As usual, I was in a situation to think too much. So now, here’s my babble.
HOW DO WE ASSOCIATE OURSELVES WITH OTHERS AND IN GROUPS?
I was a sociology major in college for a reason… However, at this point I cannot truly remember what the reason was. I know why, really I do. Because I am interested in the society you live in and identify with. I want to know what makes you different from me and me different from the guy that lives across the street from me – besides the fact he’s male and I am female, of course.
I’ll explain my meaning behind the above question. Who do you most identify with in society? I’ll elaborate on this to get your mind turning. You associate and identify with many individuals out there and you may not even realize it. Why? Because we stereotype ourselves as often as we do others and we do it list wise…or categorically.
List wise? Make a list of you…according to where you are right now. What and who are you? In order, list your sex, sexual orientation, skin color, religion, nationality, etc. But do not make that list in any random order. Put the most important description of yourself first in the current situation. Where ever you are, check to see if that list changes later tonight when you get home from work. Or when you set out to meet your friends at a club.
Here is mine, in a nutshell right now. I am:
1.Female
2.White/Caucasian
3.Pagan
4.Single
5.40’s
6.Heterosexual
Which will be #3 on this list would actually be determined by the social situation. People at my job will more than likely not know I’m pagan. And for that reason, #4 might end up #3.
Now, look at the list above. If you saw this description, which one of these characteristics of myself is more important to me? The fact that I am female. To you it might not be your gender; it may be your skin color/racial group or your age. Also these may change according to social settings.
Let me tell you how you more than likely associate yourself to certain individuals, in say, a group of 250 people. And again, these could differ if we change social situations.
Let’s say you do not have what I like to call a brotherhood profession. A brotherhood profession is a group of individuals (& their families) that stick together due to their career choices (cops, firefighters, soldiers, nurses, teachers), or maybe they’re a fraternity or sorority group. These people tend to socialize in the same nightclubs, bars, restaurants, parks, and many may live within close proximity to one another in areas such as “cop neighborhoods,” etc. Sometimes the veterans of these professions will segregate themselves from the general populations…no matter race or creed or sex. I’m not saying they don’t socialize according to gender or race, but they are a brotherhood first.
We’ll work with the ladies. I’ll use myself to help you see my process and see if you can relate. Scenario: I am the new executive secretary to the CEO of BS Corporation. It’s a big, hectic, position. I’ve been there three months and know everyone in the small group surrounding my immediate work area. I am also familiar with most of the faces in my department. As time goes on, I will become very familiar with people in other departments. But, right now, my knowledge is limited. So are my nerves.
The company Christmas party has started without me. I’m single and no friend could go with me on such short notice. You see, I really didn’t want to go to begin with because I don’t really know everyone that well and I hate large gatherings.
I walk into the company Christmas party. There’s already 200+ people there. What’s the first thing I do after my entrance? What would you do? I mean, besides grab the strongest whiskey-something you can find? You stop dead at the entrance and scan the room like a burglar looking for loot.
So my eyes fly over the room. What am I looking for? First, I’m looking for the co-workers I sit closest to at work every day. It’s a start right? A connection? But, I can’t find them, so who would I personally look for next?
I look for the closest table of ALL females. Because my race means little to me when trying to make a connection, I look for a predominantly female table. I may be Caucasian but whites really don’t identify with each other like other races often do. I mean, what do I have in common with some 20 year old white man besides our color? I find a table that seats 10 people and there are 7 professional-looking women there. I don’t recognize them, but that’s where I’m going to head. There’s one white woman and the rest are a mix of black and ethnic-looking. I don’t care. We ladies understand one another. I’ve found my home for most of the night.
So, okay, what if I didn’t find that table of women? Next on the list? I might search out Caucasians second. Okay, so I spot the mixed table of white folks. There are some ladies, but mostly men. And, guess what? I think they’re all 25 years old and by the looks of it, they’ve beat me to the bar 10-fold. Should I join them? I don’t think so. I don’t want to be the odd man out…being over 40, I mean.
Moving on. The table I seek out will have older adults. Hopefully, as old as I am or older. I spot them. Older 40s through late 50s. Oh, it’s all men. No. Oh wait. Is that dude my boss? The CEO? Never! Moving on. I spot another group of mixed individuals. I’ve seen some of them elsewhere throughout the company but never had a chance to say hello. They are not “the boss”. Some are administrative assistants, and I’m pretty sure the Afro-American dude is an accountant from the 3rd floor. I talked to his wife outside the office yesterday. She told me it was her 40th birthday. They all look my age. I’ll head over there.
So I sneak up the table of 40-somethings, a blended crowd of men, women, mixed race and ethnicity…and I’m sure D.J. is from Jordan. We all get paid in different brackets, but we all make less than the CEO and are overworked. We won’t get loud and embarrass one another either. It’ll be a nice night.
But what if I’m the shy type? The above might not take place. So now what? I revert back to my school days before I had the guts to hit that girl over the head with a food tray. I casually walk the floor, grab a drink and head over the a table that has only two people. Some odd-looking, white middle-aged guy with thick glasses and a younger white female who’s attention is on her cell phone. I don’t head for the table because they are white, I go there because there are few people. I can tell other people are or were sitting at the table but might be gone now. Maybe they left, or are dancing, or cleaning out the buffet. I take a seat that is vacant, glasses and plates untouched.
They guy looks at me and I nod to him. “May I sit here?”
“Be my guest,” he says.
He looks relieved that I’m there.
Next scenario. I get on a Chicago city bus. It’s packed and there are only a few empty seats dotting the bus. Now this is a true story. So how did I decide where to sit?
My brain’s reeling with stereotypes in the short 2 seconds it takes for me to pinpoint a seat. I pay for my ride and I see very few empty seats. I scan the bus: Empty seat, but that guy in the wheelchair is blocking it. Can’t help it. It’s the handicapped section. Empty seat by elderly Chinese guy. He eyes me suspiciously. I know immediately he’s not keen on me sitting next to him if I don’t have to. There’s an elderly Chinese lady. She looks harmless enough and normally I would choose to sit by a woman, but she is totally turned around in the seat talking loudly with the 2 Chinese people behind her and it’s annoying. Empty seat by old white dude who smells like urine and is singing Amazing Grace and talking to Jesus. Other empty seat by some late 30-something white guy who looks like a Charles Manson in the making. He’s watching me, checking me out and rubbing his beard. Oh, I don’t think so Charles!Last empty seat is next to average-looking black guy reading a college textbook and listening to his Ipod. He never looks up. I sit next to him before someone beats me to it. In my opinion, my brain decided he was the only “normal” person on the bus.
Now, it’s your turn. Put yourself in the above situations. How do you seek out comfort when you have so little control? I’m especially curious about men. How do you guys deal with the same circumstances as above?
What do you (or a writer in general) need in order to write? Maybe it’s something specific that you personally need while writing, or to get you started.
Also, list what might be a general need that all writers have. The “things” don’t even actually have to be an item, maybe it’s a ritual. You don’t have to be a writer to play. My understanding is that readers often wonder about their favorite authors, so here’s your chance to voice your thoughts.
List three(3) things…
Here are just some of the things I personally need/do:
1.I have to gather everything I’ll need so I don’t have to get up…which can cause me to procrastinate. So I grab a drink, a snack, and shut off my cell phone.
2.I have to have pens nearby so that I can thoughtfully tap them to my forehead while thinking.
3.I have to have a notepad to jot down notes.
Leave a comment listing three things some writers might say they can’t write without, or without doing. I’m anxious to see what you all come up with!
DO WE NEED TO CUT BACK ON SOCIAL MEDIA, THE WEB, OUR CELL PHONES?
Just rambling on….
This is a post I threw together on a whim. Just some jumbled thoughts on the Internet, social media and cell phone usage.
I think that anyone now a-days can be guilty. Know, however, that I am drawing from my personal Web experiences as both a writer and a run-of-the-mill Internet surfer. And you know me, I’m sure to ramble off subject a bit because I love to add my .02 to everything. Hence, my tagline, “And, your point is?” Haha.
Have you ever wondered when enough is enough when it comes to the amount of time and energy you waste on the Internet and social websites? Do you know, and are you willing to admit, how you abuse yourself and waste precious time on the Web?
As a writer, I do spend a good amount of time on the Web. It’s how I do research and promote myself. I remember the days when I had to go to the library to find information. Or contact a teacher, professor, doctor or some other expert on a particular subject. Of course, don’t get me wrong…writers still have to those things too, especially if writing on real-life subjects. You know, writing about true crime, or a biography, etc. Even if the crime ends up a work of fiction, statistics need to be real. Readers are not stupid.
Now then, often times as a writer I get sidetracked. I flip on my computer to get busy on Word. I power up FireFox to research women serial killers and end up on Facebook. How does that happen? Well, I’m sure there are some women serial killers who use Facebook, but I am not friends with any of them…to my knowledge. FTW? Anyway, yep, so there I am on Facebook for the next hour…or maybe two if I get on a game or start PM-ing with someone.
In the old days, before I got on Facebook, it was MySpace. Before that it was Yahoo Groups and Y!-Instant Messenger, along with plenty of niche or specialty website message boards. Before that, it was Hotmail on a constant basis. Note: I got my first Hotmail account back in 1996, which is when I was first introduced to the Web. Wow. I was so excited. I entered college in ’96 from a world where things like the Web didn’t exist. Imagine my surprise when I found out that those huge-ass floppies were gone and we were using those smaller square 3” storage disks. Oh, and we no longer had to boot up the computer using those old start-up disks I experienced way back in 1988. Ah, those were the days of the old word processor and Lotus 123.
Okay, my history with computer technology is for yet another blog at some point. Maybe. So, here I was, in 1996, doing online research. Also, there were all sorts of archives on the Web for so many things. I was impressed. I got my first personal computer, a Compaq, in October, 1999! Woo-hoo! I was in heaven. I couldn’t wait to get home from school or work and power that sucker up. Hotmail and my favorite website message board awaited me!
So, I love my gadgets & technology. I love my dumbass smart phone that I’d like to smash with a hammer and I love my laptop and my Kindle. I love social media, and WordPress, of course. I enjoy being be able to self publish books on CreateSpace or Smashwords, etc. One of my first-ever favorite sites was Amazon.com. When I first met Amazon…eons ago… I was in heaven. I found books there that I couldn’t find anywhere, even in many libraries.
I like advances. While I don’t have cable TV right now… due to cutting household costs mostly…I have Sirius radio in my car. I’d rather have Sirius than cable TV. And actually, when I as a teen and a helluva lot smarter than I am today (back in, probably, 1986) I invented (in my head) something similar to Sirius radio. I said to a friend, “Hey, what if there was something like cable radio?” I was a fool. I thought it was futuristic and a long shot. I never tried to pursue it. I’m such an idiot as I could be a millionaire today. So, I am always about moving forward.
Let’s not get off track. So I end up on Facebook, Goodreads, and often I get sidetracked by other people’s blogs and websites. Especially other writers or the people I follow on WordPress. My research falls to the wayside and I’m playing CandyCrush and reposting my Facebook friends’ crazy status updates. Then there’s Twitter. I don’t spend as much time there as I should. All my original Twitter posts feed to my Facebook author and personal pages too. What a mess!
Two hours later, I’ve got nothing done. Sometimes when I’m bored or have something like writer’s block, I get lost online for hours! This isn’t solving my writer’s block. It’s making it worse because I’m not attempting to write anything.
Half the day can be gone before I know it. Or I look at the clock, it’s noon and I’m still in my jammies. I’m not the only one, I know. It’s happened to you all too, especially maybe if you live in a cold climate where it rains and snows a lot in winter. Sometimes on a day off from school or work we are forced to turn to the Web for entertainment. It doesn’t just happen to writers, it happens to all of us at some point. It’s just some people suffer more than others. We neglect our writing and editing, our homework, or forget about our test, we abandon the housework. We become addicted to Facebook’s Farmville, CandyCrush, Wheel of Fortune, etc. Or we’re on MySpace, or Tweeting about nothing. Or we’re over reading the blogs of all our Women’s Rights activist pals, or scouring YouTube for cat videos, and checking news sites for Royal Baby happenings. Nothing’s done. Nothing. We forget to water the plants, feed the cat, walk the dog and eat lunch. We forget that we went to bed married last night. The laundry’s piled up.
As a writer, I get lost online sometimes. In fact, very often. I start out with good intentions and screw it up. I start clicking links from one article to the next. Next thing I know I’m reading stuff that doesn’t apply to my research and clicking the “follow” buttons to track more people on Facebook or Twitter. Whaaaattt? I’ve threatened myself over and over. The other day I had so much writing work to do, I got off Facebook and stayed off even though I had to access the Web a few times to look things up. I got a lot done.
Sometimes when I don’t allow myself access to Facebook or Twitter on my laptop because I’m writing, I might check it from my cell. This is because I hate my dumbass smart phone and won’t play on it long. I do not talk on my cell when I’m driving. I don’t text or access Facebook or Mapquest either. If I’m in a situation that needs Mapquest, I pull over. If I feel the call I’m getting is an emergency call, I pull over. There have been times that I have texted or tweeted while behind the wheel at a stop light but never become engrossed. But that’s wrong too, I know this. It pains me to see drivers doing these things while their wheels are spinning, and I pray to see the day when getting caught driving…or even at a stop light… and talking/texting, etc., comes with fines so large they’ll break us. It’s ignorant. People don’t even realize the things they do…or don’t do…while talking on cells and driving.
Three days prior to this blog post, I was almost killed by a woman talking on her cell, smoking a cigarette and drinking water. Driving too fast, she wasn’t paying attention to the road or the stop light, and made a turn on a red light and couldn’t control the wheel with no hands. She was holding all three: cell, smoke, water. I don’t think the shit will ever come out of my undies. She plowed past me so closely & so fast, the wind from her SUV shook my 4-door Dodge Avenger. She lost control and drove up on the curb and smashed into a parked car in a lot which then slid and smashed into a car. In that car there was a woman and her infant and a dog. They were waiting for someone to come out of a shop there.
If I was one second closer she would’ve hit me going about 35 mph in her SUV while making that illegal turn. Hang up! There is absolutely no one, and I mean no one, that you need to talk to while driving. No one. Not your kids, your doctor, your sister, your employer, and you don’t need to hear your voicemail messages either since you shouldn’t be calling anyone back. Pull over. There are parking lots and residential roads all over. Pull over. I know what you’re already thinking…No, that woman was stupid. I’d never do all that stuff at the same time and I can drive and talk at the same time. Okay…whatever. Well, this topic too is for another day. Let me not get sidetracked.
I do not take my cell phone to the dinner table, at home or while out with friends, and play on Facebook or Twitter. Do you? That’s a sign of addiction! When I’m alone in Taco Bell, I’ll often Tweet or update Facebook. I rarely eat fast food, but I like Taco Bell. One of the Bells I visit near me has interesting clientele and I love to watch them. They do funny shit. So I post it. But if anyone brings their phone to my dinner table, they’ll be asked to set it aside, turn it off, etc. That’s just bad manners to sit at the dinner table with your friends or family, playing on Facebook over Thanksgiving dinner. I hope you all don’t do that either. You should have more respect than that, and don’t allow others to do it at your table either.
Back to the Web. When does our time wasted become too much? Do you know the signs? Maybe if you know all you have to do that day is relax, and Facebook games are your way of doing that then by all means, indulge. I’ve been there too. But how much of your life do your 300 strange Facebook friends take away from you, your family and real life friends every day? How many nice-day walks are you missing? How many phone calls go to voicemail? When’s the last time you took the dog out on his leash? You sit on Facebook and the world just keeps on turning. It was 9am, now it’s 3pm. Where’d the day go?
Some of us never realize we’re addicted. Am I addicted? Personally, I don’t think I’m 100% addicted. I can still shut the computer off and walk away. I can watch an entire 2+ hour movie at home and never look at my phone. And when I’m at a family gathering, I stay off of Facebook. Now and then I might post a pic or a Tweet from my phone about something ludicrous a family member just did, but it’s because we’re on Facebook and so are our real life friends and it is fun to embarrass my brother on Christmas Day. It’s fun. Period. But I will not sit during our entire holiday gathering with my eyes glued to me cell. I like to use Facebook for fun, but sometimes it turns into a monster, or it turns us into monsters. Yes, it does. And a few of us really and totally are addicted. Some of us are partially addicted. Some of us don’t think about it until we power up the computer. Then we get stuck on social media and turn into zombies, losing track of our day; our lives.
So many times I’ve said, “I’ll finish writing this chapter, then go for a walk.” I boot up the laptop…next thing I know I’m on Facebook, or Yahoo or Outlook. The chapter may or may not be finished, but the time for the walk never comes. I’ve missed a lovely day.
Sometimes I hear big roars of laughter outside my home. My mom’s on the porch with some neighbors laughing hysterically. I find myself enjoying the noise, but never budging to join in. Then I ask Mom what the hell was so funny, and when it comes from her, it’s not so funny. I missed it because I couldn’t walk away from Facebook for a few minutes.
I am jobless right now, so for the past few months I’ve spent a lot of time on social media. Spending the time on Facebook that I should be spending writing fiction, poetry or preparing my next blog, etc. It’s crippling. I know this. When I have a job, I spend less time online and can go for a couple of days without spending a whole lot of time online and don’t power up the laptop at all. I can keep up on my phone that I love to hate; therefore, not spending hours relentlessly on Facebook.
So my addiction is intermittent. But it’s there. I fall off the wagon. I have to beat myself metaphorically over the head to get me to read the books I want to review, or to get those 2,000 words written, or edit some manuscript pages. Yes, even my greatest love…writing…is infected with Facebook. That’s when you know things could become an issue, when your greatest loves are affected.
When I don’t get done what needs to be done, I feel sick and I hate myself. That’s how we all feel after we indulge in things we’re addicted to when we shouldn’t be involved. It’s how we feel when we’ve eaten to capacity and now are eating another piece of pie. Or when we sneak a smoke when we haven’t smoked all day. Or when we know we’ve had too much alcohol, but can’t say no to peer pressure. And I’m sure there’s a million other exampled you guys have experienced or witnessed. Yes, I should’ve been writing, but instead I was on Facebook.
In recent years, I’ve witnessed some real social media and Web addicts. These people look like zombies, stay up all night for no other reason but to facebook with friends or tweet and play Internet games. They lose their lives. They have no “real” friends. Their families are constantly pissed at them for not participating in family events or for constantly staring at their cell phones. I’ve seen a few that won’t even take the time to make a sandwich, or feed the dog. I’ve met people who tell me of carpal tunnel and arthritis in their back, elbows, wrists…all from living on the Internet. I believe most of us, who have full movement of our bodies, do not stay on the Internet that long. Yes, we love to access and update from our phones, it’s fun, but remember, there’s a time and place for everything, and it’s not while driving or at the Thanksgiving dinner table, or in the hospital room of your dying grandma. If you do those things, you’re probably an addict.
Facebook gets blamed for a lot. And more and more we’re hearing about folks becoming addicted to it or its games, among other things. When did it start? Well, not this year, or even last year. Maybe not even in 2005. In 1999, I was spending hours on message boards. And hell, that was long before Facebook. While, yes, it’s another avenue for Internet addicts, it’s not the first nor it will it be the last avenue of Web addiction.
Just before this past Thanksgiving season, when I was still employed full time, I started a system. No cell phone usage at certain times of the day or week. And not at all during the TV shows I watch with my mom. She’s going to be 78. She fell ill June of 2012. Her thyroid almost killed her then she got Shingles. She STILL has Shingles. Now she’s got a heart that beats too rapidly sometimes. They think it’s thyroid or thyroid medicine-related. So she’s on a pill for that. And if one day I wake up in the morning and she’s not breathing anymore, I don’t want any thoughts to go through my heart similar to, “God, I wish I hadn’t been staring at Facebook through the dark while I was supposed to be watching The Vampire Diaries with her!” So, when we’re watching shows we enjoy together like Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries or some mini-series like Under the Dome, I leave my cell in my bedroom and I put my books down. I do not bring my phone to the dinner table. I’ve never brought my cell to our dinner table, but up until about 14 months ago, I used to check Facebook or Twitter though the dark while watching TV. I don’t do this anymore, especially when Mom and I are watching our shows.
I also had a schedule when I was working, and now that I am back on the job hunt, I’m trying to practice restraint again because I realize how much time I’ve been blowing on the Web doing everything and anything except research or job hunting. I have all this free time to write or blog and I’ve been wasting way too much time on Facebook. Next thing I know, I’ll be working again and complaining that I have no time to write…and dwelling on all the time I wasted on Facebook instead of writing during my months of unemployment. I’m limiting my Facebook time via my laptop because if I don’t, I’ll power up and be on Facebook for hours. Also, I’m re-evaluating when and where I access social media on my cell phone and trying to be less ignorant about it, and of course, I don’t want to become a killer behind the wheel of my car. So I will continue the practice of ignoring my phone while driving.
I’d like to know about you guys. Are you addicted to social media? To your electronic gadgets? How much mindless time do you waste on the Web and it’s addicting avenues? How has this affected your life? Do you even know it’s being affected? Are you carelessly putting pedestrians and other drivers at risk to feed your addictions of talk, text, and social media?
Today is July 4th. It’s hard for me to believe that some Americans don’t realize that July 4th is just a date on calendars worldwide. Today is July 4th in Russia, in Poland, England, Maine, California, and as well in Korea. There’s a July 4th in Tunisia and somewhere in Congo. There’s one Down Under, and all over New Zealand.
Today, is July 4th…but that is not the official or politically correct term… Frankly I don’t like it. Today is Independence Day in the United States of America. On July 4th, 1776, our determined ancestors declared our independence from Great Britain and adopted the Declaration of Independence. And that means a lot to me, and those people who don’t like this country, but live here, should move on. Remember, while a government “thinks” it IS a country…it is the people who make the country. Those who work for it, build it, die for it. Anyone who does not wish to support this country, in my not-so-humble opinion (as most of you know me for) can just get the hell out.
But this blog is not for bashing anti-American imbeciles, it’s for bringing the attention of the American people, our citizens and resident patriots, back to exactly what Independence Day is all about.
Our military personnel worldwide that have put their lives on the line is how our Independence Day has been able to continue for 237 years. Yes, Peeps, 237 years. And if you see a military finest today, you should thank them and shake their hands. You owe that to them. This is NOT July 4th… a day to get drunk, piss off your neighbors and start house and brush fires with illegal firecrackers.
Very few of my neighbors and peers know a lot about “July 4th” or “July Fourth”. How many times I long to here the words Independence Day come through their lips. I long for it!!
Yes, our military has kept these shores safe, and have gone overseas to join in world wars for our sake, or to help out an ally and as we’ve been told, to stamp out oppression.
But why is it we forget those who died in the Revolutionary War? Those families who suffered early on when their husbands and sons did not come home, and they never saw their dead bodies. Let’s face it, without those brave men (as soldiers were only males back then, although I’m sure some women and children died in the midst) we would not have had the opportunity much later to unite the states (Civil War) we now call the United States of America. And by the way, we should remember those Civil War heroes and victims as well.
On this day, let’s not forget who brought us here. Men braver than brave who fought bare footed in the dead of the north-eastern winters. They fought and shed blood right here on this land, fighting and dying for our freedom from the British Crown. Before we cook the kids their grilled hotdogs and fill up the kiddie pool, or run off to the lakefront to look at lovely (and controlled) fireworks displays…before we start drinking alcohol and engaging in family arguments, before we put another steak on the grill and start burning down crap with illegal fireworks, bow your heads for just 5 seconds to thank the souls of those men that started dying back in 1775 at the start of the American Revolutionary War (also called the American War of Independence), today most of us U.S. Americans simply call it the Revolutionary War (1775-1783), that started 238 years ago. These men were outstanding in bravery and their sacrifices need to be recalled and remembered and most importantly…honored.
Without these valiant spirits, dead for well over 200 years, we might still be governed by our mother country. Sure maybe revolution would have come at some point; or maybe it would not have once we allowed ourselves to live under the thumb of some other place. Hey, this happens all over the world. Even the U.S. does it. It did it when we forced the Hawaiian queen to give up her crown. Oh!…Wait, not all Americans know about that. And there are other places that have been conquered too and live under our thumb or the hand over some other superpower nation.
However, we can only speak of our own history, here on our part of the American continent on this day. For when it comes to celebrating a date of independence for any country, the focus should be on their own people and place. And our people started with those who died for revolution. Died for people who would come over 200 years later…People they’d never know.
HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY, U.S.A. … My favorite place on the planet.
It bothers me that some organizations that I support for various reasons are hailing this guy, Snowden, as a hero. I don’t think he’s a hero. There is a reason some things have to be classified. Some organizations are just hailing this guy a hero because he attempted to step on the US government, or hail a red flag. That’s why he’s a hero? Go join the Navy Seals, asshat. The citizens of this land have not gained anything from what Snowden’s done.
I find it odd how many citizens of the USA think they have to know everything the government’s up to. Um…okay. Yes, let’s let the government come on TV every night and announce what they’ve done all day. There’s a reason things are top secret… duh.
Has anyone given one thought to the fact that Snowden could’ve started WW3?…Yes, war…and among people who already know that other people are listening in. (I love the way China acts so innocent.) Yeah, we’re not all stupid here in the USA. And war with other governments not so friendly to the US could now be looming. Where will all the whistle blowing heroes hide when missiles are heading our way? I don’t care if the government wants to listen to my conversations or those of my neighbors. What do you people have to hide? We can’t feed starving kids or stamp out animal and child abuse, but we should give a damn about Snowden’s mission? I do not.
But I do care that someone decided to tell other governments that the US govt. might listen to their conversations. What that does is set us up for problems with other governments who are doing the same damned things. Why is the USA the only one who can’t listen to conversations of the Chinese? I assure you, all Simpletons, that Japan is monitoring China (who wouldn’t), and China is listening to Russia, Russia’s listening to Germany, Germany’s listening to Iran, and North Korea & South Korea couldn’t sleep at night if the last words they heard or read weren’t from each other. Tell me, if you were living in S. Korea, wouldn’t you want to know what N. Korea is up to? So why is it only the USA is the bad guy? Okay, let’s start WW3 because I don’t want the government listening to my Verizon calls…or to the PM of Britain saying good night to someone. *Yawn*
What the upside of the US government listening to others calls or monitoring the Net is…well, we might learn about a nuclear missile heading right this way before radar grabs it. Oh…duh. And I could go on, but why bother. Well, there’s those terrorists. It was okay for the government to watch those Boston bombers, wasn’t it? I guess we only need the government spying when we think it’s okay. Well, how about that whistle blower joining the army or navy or something?
Okay, then he wanted his identity kept secret, now he doesn’t care. Whaatt? This man isn’t a hero, he could well be just another man in a theater with a gun. He didn’t set out to help you, American citizens…he set out to F the US government and gain fame without even thinking of the consequences. No, not the consequences of getting caught…but how he’s put this nation at risk. I say that Japan needs to send him home. He doesn’t mind going to jail for this. He probably wouldn’t even mind a death sentence. Wow…let me go out among the stars in history because I got bored of my big salary and great health insurance.
Next, I might add, you know, I’m not a total fan of the US government. But I am certainly not a fan of other governments either… Especially ones that capture you, hold you prisoner in bamboo cages and stick bamboo shoots under your fingernails as punishment. Yes…that’s a true story reiterated from a Korean war veteran.
Please…this isn’t anything like Wikileaks. Or whatever that was. I think what Snowden has done is wrong and has put our nation at risk as the bad guy. Well, we’re only protecting ourselves from the other bad guys of the world. And it bothers me when any other country steps forward and acts like they’re so insulted by the things this Snowden is leaking to the…to the…dare I say, enemy? Yes, the world is still at war.
So, should he be tried for treason? Eh, whatever. I don’t think he’s a patriot. No, we should never totally turn our backs on our governments…and especially not other governments. But we can’t just think they have to run around announcing their every move to foreign lands. That would be detrimental to our people who live in those lands or our military bases there. No, Snowden is out for fame and I certainly hope he found it at the risk of every other poor can’t-find-a-job-to-feed-my-family citizen out there. Trust me…Snowden did not do this for all you inner-city kids. He did this for himself.
But hey…CIA. I need a job and if you train me, I’m sure I can be just as good at my new job as Snowden was at his job, but alas, I won’t leak documents and info to the public that could cause WW3. You guys do have health insurance, right? I could use that as I just spent 2 days in the ER and one overnight hospital stay without insurance. Oh, by the way… I have no way to pay for that. I wonder if Snowden can give me a loan?
Here’s the thing…What Snowden did will not help me pay for food, or my electric bill, car insurance, or pay my hospital bills. He did nothing for me but maybe cause a war…to make the poor poorer. There’s a difference between leaking news one can use, and leaking things that could start wars. Aren’t we tired of war already?
I figure a lot of people won’t agree with me. But I don’t care. Who benefits from what Snowden did? Not me. Not you reading this. No one but hostile governments and terrorists.
Okay, yes, Idiot on the rise here. I had so much technical difficulty today on WordPress. However, I doubt it was WP’s fault at all. It was all Wanda.
Thanks for your patience if blogs kept appearing and disappearing. Where would I be without the world of technology to totally make me feel inferior.
Don’t you all feel inferior at times? I know I do, for sure. Like those times I figure something out, like how to add or delete something from WordPress, or how to add a menu or add to a menu, then forget what I just did.
Bonkers!
Life is tough enough without computers and their not-so-friendly websites mucking up my life. Computers are supposed to make things more convenient. Well, not when I’m the operator.
My apologies to those of you who keep seeing my messages appearing and disappearing…or perhaps showing up in your email with dead links. It seems I’m having a little technical difficulties trying to post my latest book review. As well as that my last book review disappeared! Ugh!
WANDA PARYLA 
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