Tag Archives: life

Life, the Adventure – Self-reflection

Posted on by under Misadventures in Non-Fiction

This post is something that’s been rattling around in my head for some time, but one that obviously hasn’t gotten proper attention until this point. Suffice it to say, some of the words have likely gotten lost or replaced. So it goes.

I have, in the past year or so, come to the following conclusion:

Simply put, life is an adventure. We are all equipped to some degree or another, ready to go forth and save our proverbial kingdoms by way of conquering goals, realizing (and, at times, rescuing) dreams, and slaying our own personal dragons and demons. Looking at anyone who has succeeded thoroughly and undeniably at their life’s quest, it seems like everything should be a linear series of steps forward. It’s also the easiest way to tinge your view with envy, fill your head with frustration, and make your heart ache for a place where you may not yet be – not out of personal failures, but because you simply haven’t arrived there yet.

When I think about life as an adventure, especially with regards to my writing, I find myself oftentimes discounting the steps back. The setbacks. The unexpected mishaps and misfortunes.

Life is an adventure, but hardly a linear one. The path may be blocked or broken, with long and circuitous detours waiting just out of sight. The weather will not always be fair, and the wind will not always be at your back. Sometimes – yes, sometimes – the dragons win and the demons get their time to gloat, but still I continue.

I have been ruminating on a lot lately. Some more personal than I’m willing to share here, and some that’s simply my want to become something with my writing while not making nearly enough time to actually complete my writing.

This is my reminder that the goalposts in the distance – the castle to rescue, the dragons to slay, the victories to be achieved – are all still very much in the distance, and the only way I will ever find my way there is if I stop letting my self-doubt, anger, and frustration stand as walls in my path.

Breathe. One foot, then the other, moving inexorably forward.

I can do this. I simply have to do this, if only for me.

An Unintentional Hiatus, and Remembering to Breathe

Posted on by under Misadventures in Non-Fiction

Life happens, or so the saying goes, as does work and writing and finding time to exercise. Organizing parties. Dozing off in the middle of the day. And so on.

I’ve certainly kept busy, and sometimes I am kept busy. Sometimes I find myself time to simply be, and sometimes I am reminded to simply be (or, with a gentle nudge and much love from my wife, I am told to simply be). It’s during the downtime of being that I find myself thinking about what I should be doing and what I could be doing, and how I’ve not necessarily gotten any closer to accomplishing those things. On the plus side, I’ve gotten no farther from doing so either. Instead, I’m enjoying the adventure of being a father to two fantastic children, navigating the adventures of marriage with my entirely remarkable wife (who supports my writing far more than I do at times), and so on.

So what’s next, then? What misadventures wait ahead?

There will certainly be more Follow the Ashes sooner than later. Still plenty of distance to travel before we reach our destination with that story.

Introductions to Amira, and her Quest, are probably in order. We’ll see.

Then, of course, there’s a small matter of things to do with ducks, and if that’s confusing to read I promise it was just as perplexing to type.

Those, however, are misadventures for other days. Today, instead, I’m choosing again to simply be and remember to breathe.

Good news, bad news

Posted on by under Misadventures in Fiction, Misadventures in Non-Fiction

Hey, all.

Happy nearly-Thursday (or happy Thursday, depending on where you’re reading this from). Installment 4 of Follow the Ashes (spoilers: titled “Put on a Happy Face”) is coming along slowly but surely, and will likely be on time. If it isn’t, it’ll be up by Sunday. The goal is for it to be on time, obviously.

However! I have to say that this will be the last one for a bit. The reason? There is less than a month between now and the arrival of the baby known as Butterbean. I want to make sure I am doing everything I can to focus on preparing for that, which means taking a breather from Follow the Ashes. I do have some bonus material planned for when it returns to help take the edge off.

Meanwhile, expect the next installment soon. I hope it’s proving to be an enjoyable story.

T’is the Season

Posted on by under General Bloggity Stuff, Misadventures in Non-Fiction

NaNoWriMo is now well behind me, and I successfully won another year (it only cost me quite a few days of sleep-deprivation at work, but I’m honestly pleased with the bulk of the draft it yielded). Christmas is less than a week away, which would be concerning if I hadn’t managed to successfully behave like an adult and get shopping out of the way ahead of time for a change. As the end of the year rapidly approaches, whether I’m ready for it or not (and, honestly, despite how good 2017 has been on a personal level I am all about those sweet, sweet 2018 mid-term elections and several other, exciting things I’ll get to later).

This post is a sort-of recap of my year since the last posts I made, a loudly-stated-because-it’s-on-the-intenet commitment to getting off of my ass so as to work harder towards getting more things published (self-published as well), and a return to WordPress…because I renewed my damn domain name, so I may as well make use of it. (Fun story: I had to open a new tab and verify this, because I honestly could not remember if I did or not.) Onward!

Continue reading →

Eating Halo Top Vanilla Bean feels like the adult equivalent of eating paste

Posted on by under Misadventures in Fiction, Misadventures in Non-Fiction

Sure, that’s a long-ass title, but it’s catchier than my usual go-to of indicating I’m not dead, that I’ve not forgotten I have a WordPress, or some pop culture reference. Related: how the Hell do I have 18 drafts? I need to do some belated spring cleaning.

The Halo Top, for the record, isn’t half bad, but it has a weird consistency – just to set the record straight.

“What’s new in the land of Phil’s Misadventures in Fiction (and life)?” asks no one in particular.  Continue reading →

Hello WordPress, my old friend

Posted on by under Misadventures in Fiction, Misadventures in Non-Fiction

I’ve come to post on you again.

I’m not even a little sorry for that. Nope. Newcomers: I’m definitely sorry for that, but it’s been a long week and I just don’t have it in me to pretend I’m more than a golem constructed from bad jokes, neuroses, and the occasional good idea. I got briefly distracted because I made the mistake of trying to refresh my Facebook while working on this post…only to discover my WiFi has once again crapped all over itself. Thanks, Comcast. Forever holding your products to the lowest standards. Continue reading →

A gradual journey to a new normalcy

Posted on by under Uncategorized

Some of you folks may be wondering where the Hell I’ve been. May was, of course, my month-long hiatus from Facebook, Twitter, and WordPress, and it was definitely a learning experience. And then I didn’t blog for the entire month of June, which was a bit less intentional. Plenty of events transpired between the last post and this one; the world continued turning, people kept writing, and life went on (and I have so much to catch up on in my subscriptions that it actually gives me a headache thinking about it).

This post will be about the good, the bad, and the ugly, but not necessarily in that order. Don’t worry, though. A lot of this will be shortened up for everyone’s sake. Plus, really, the good outweighs the bad. It’s a lot more enjoyable to read the good stuff.

Continue reading →

Stormy weather, reflection, and personal growth

Posted on by under One Hundred Days of Blogging 2.0

The weather for today called for thunderstorms, and the forecast was certainly spot-on in that regard. Proper thunderbolts-and-lightning, very very frightening, and so on. Oh, and grape-sized hail that scared the crap out of my cats.

I love a good thunderstorm. One of the things I miss most about living in Carnegie is being able to lie in the back room–my grandma’s old room–and listen to the rain hitting the skylights. Thought it wasn’t quite the same, I did take some time to sit out on the back deck to watch the beginnings of the storm. I snapped a few pictures, enjoying the crazy clouds and the increasing winds, wrote in my journal a bit, and then set both my phone and journal aside to appreciate the weather.

Fun fact: I used to be terrified of thunderstorms. Specifically, I was terrified of the thunder itself. By association, I would freak out when I saw bright flashes of lightning; I knew what they meant, and I didn’t like what would follow. The typical response? Find the nearest pillow and hide, as pillows were obviously the greatest protection from the elements. It’s a common enough fear, and so I don’t feel too bad admitting to it. If the thunder’s loud enough and the lightning’s crazy enough, really, it becomes a surprisingly rational fear, I’d say. It was during those times that I spent cowering under couch decorations that my grandmother would try to comfort me by explaining the thunder away as angels bowling. The louder thunder rumbles were, the more likely it was the angels got a strike. I learned enough about bowling during my formative years while still not finding thunder to be a great source of terror, but the idea that it wasn’t so bad stuck around. My grandmother actually spent a good deal of time watching storms, too, and it’s something I seem to have picked up at some point. I even, against what was probably better judgment, went with my stepfather to try retrieving my grandmother and great aunt after a tornado cruised through Mount Washington and wrought all sorts of havoc.

This is something I dwell on from time to time, as it’s something I’ve grown out of. Here’s the part where I get ridiculous, because I’m drawing parallels all ham-handed and shit. My writing is like the way I’ve gotten used to, and have grown to love, thunderstorms. When I started writing, it was all short stories with MS Paint and Microsoft Works. Lots of crappy writing, thoughtless snark, and…Well, it was my first attempts at writing. Over time, with practice and patience, I slowly got better. I found an audience that enjoyed my writing and I ran with it. I’m still, I’ve discovered, finding new audiences and continuing along the process of finding what works and what doesn’t, and I’ll probably have to keep doing that until the day I die (or, less likely, my fingers all fall off and I’m no longer able to write).

The comparison may have fallen apart there. Over time, these two things–thunderstorms and writing–became things that I didn’t fear (for different reasons, obviously), but things I enjoyed a great deal. They both old a special place in my heart, even when they are a source of frustration.

Accepting small failures, and moving on

Posted on by under General Writing-Related Posts, Posts of a Rant-like Nature

Or “I’ll admit I’m not some sort of superhero, even if I’m an infallible, god-like being who knows no parallels.” As a related point of interest to this sub-title: when I claim to be infallible in front of my Grandma June, she typically responds by calling me a shithead. If that doesn’t merit sharing, I don’t know what does.

This goes back to my last post a little, and by a little I mean a good bit. I’m not sorry. It’s been a long, tiring day, and my internal clock is telling me to go to bed.

My creative process is far from complex, and will probably sound fairly familiar to some of you. There are days when I’ll manage to churn out pages upon pages of material. I won’t take breaks, not even for food or sleep. Sometimes, I end those days feeling immensely proud of the work I’ve done, and other times I’ll go to bed knowing I’ll spend a good deal of the next writing session pressing down the Backspace key. Regardless, those days are full of creativity, and so they make me undeniably happy. Continue reading →

Don’t drink the water (and other recent events)

Posted on by under General Bloggity Stuff, General Writing-Related Posts

I’m doing that thing again where I try too hard to compel myself to write, only to become frustrated with the efforts I make.  I end up shutting down as a result.  This revelation brought to you by the on-again, off-again functionality of my left Shift key, which has seen more than its fair share of use in college writing.  Good old Satellite 5 (why yes, my computer is named in reference to something from Doctor Who).  More on the writing stuff in a couple of paragraphs.  A pair o’ paragraphs?  A herd of the written word?  I’m not sorry, but I’ll stop.  For now.

This has been a strange month, with more parts frustrating than good.  The sighs of relief were, by and large, outnumbered by the groans of frustration, and I have taken so many trips to my Happy Place (to those of you in the know: no, it does not involve a place where I go to set fire to my enemies, thank you very much) I’ve taken up dual citizenship.  My car was deemed totaled, and then through the good graces and unending kindness of my parents it was replaced (I got their car, they got a new car, and everyone but the environment won out I suppose).  There were two instances in which I was double-charged in a way that left my bank account missing at least $200.  Not many people I know are all right with that kind of money just floating about in Limbo, and I am not such a person.  Those problems were, in time, reversed.  Most importantly, or at least I’d like to think, I’ve taken the pile of good things and bad things this month has provided me with and understood that the bad things didn’t make the good ones any less good, and the good didn’t make the bad any less significant.  More Doctor Who references.

My household also welcomed a second kitten, now named Meowiarty.  He’s an extremely affectionate little kitty who moves with the speed of lightning and all the grace of someone who is about ten beers past their limit (read as: lots of magical moments featuring little M headbutting walls).  I mention his speed, specifically, because his ability to suddenly be places he hadn’t been moments before resulted in nearly getting shut in the fridge today.  He is also co-authoring this post, sporadically running across the keyboard.  That’s totally where the typos are coming from.  Not me at all.  Probably.
Speaking of authoring and co-authoring and writing and so on (I’m being lazy with transitions; just go with it, people), my good friend, all-around entertaining guy, horror movie enthusiast, and author of “Beauties in the Deep”, Zachary T. Owen, has asked me to contribute something to what I think is still a super-secret project.  I mean, in hindsight I could’ve always asked him how secret this is, but this is mostly a chance to point out how it’s close to Halloween.  There’s no better treat to give, to others or yourself, than a copy of “Beauties in the Deep”.

Unless you give it to someone who is easily frightened, in which case it’s the perfect trick to play.  Win-win situation, I think. The plan, as of now, is to at least have one short spooky story, minus the alliteration, posted as a Halloween treat.  Or, in the event I don’t deliver, I can always say it was a trick.  Joking.  Only joking.  I can think of a handful of people who wouldn’t let me live such antics down.

Funny enough: I almost forgot to include any explanation for the title, which was part of why this post is happening to begin with.  Drawing upon my half-hearted reporting skills I learned from one semester of hating my life-choices at Point Park University, I will take a moment to relay recent Hollidaysburg news.  Some asshole left what is being called a “vague threat” (note: the quotation marks are crucial, as they appear in most mentions of this “threat”), and so I’ve been advised against using tap water all weekend long.  Something about bomb threats in Hollidaysburg, too, but I feel like any explosions would have to be cleared as historically appropriate so as to not affect Hollidaysburg’s overall historical aesthetic.

It’s about time I wrapped up this collection of comments, or perhaps these meandering musings, since I’ve got to go back to what amounts to herding cats before a vet appointment.