Song Bird Saga Update

Silent Symphony is about to undergo another read-through and ePub formatting revisions.  From there...publishing time?  Ms. Jennifer Jackson declined the query again, so now its self-publishing time.

As for Lullaby Trial, I am pleased to report I am about 75% complete with the draft.  I know have the ending all ironed out and have the transition from Lullaby Trial to Chained Harmony (Book 3) all planned out.  Also, my live research for Drum Giants (Book 4) has officially embarked on phase 2 (a.k.a. I had my baby and now have the privilege of making Clara's story very realistic).

On that note, I have a screaming child to attend to.  More to come :D

Death Experience

Yesterday, I was talking to my family and I said, "of all the wars the United States has ever been involved with, the Civil War and World War II are the hardest for me to accept." The Civil War is the only war I am thoroughly ashamed of and World War II has always turned my stomach.

Thinking on my statements, I believe I may have identified precisely why I have always felt this way. I never rejected the Civil War because of slavery, I did not favor one side over the other for any known reason I can think of. My objection to the Civil War was the division of a nation in such a catastrophic fashion that brothers were literally on opposite sides of one of the most gruesome wars in American history. Battlefields dripped red and bodies were so thick, you could walk from one side to the other without touching the ground. I can rationalize fighting an enemy I have never shared a meal with, but aiming a cannon at my own brother seems beyond me.

Similarly, the trench warfare in World War II has always sickened me. It was the first time chemical weapons were used and the devastation was unilateral. Pictures or paintings from these wars have haunted my dreams.

In Silent Symphony, I deal with death of a beast like any hunter. It had to be done, so it was and the characters survived. But when it comes to the death of a character, will I handle writing the scene or will I make myself sick just thinking about it. My story is highly visually motivating; can I make a death scene the same caliber of experience I have used thus far?

Query Only....Synopsis = Spoilers

The void.  Darkness…emptiness…silence…chilling silence.  You cannot imagine it.  You cannot steel yourself to it.  You may think you can, but it gnaws away at you; it deteriorates your very essence, your song.  Nothing escapes its grasp.  Once it reaches you, once you fall into its trap, you cannot escape it.  You may crawl back out, you may free yourself from its murky, purple waters, but still…you are never free, not truly.  The void marked the southern border of the Village.  Its waters were shrouded by a thick, unwavering haze.  Creatures clawed their way up the banks.  Horrible, terrible, twisted creatures attacked the Village.  Only by the strength of the Wandering Bards and the Mockingbirds, the Night Owls and the Nightingales is the Village kept safe.

Ali watched her parents die to a creature from the void.  She was only two years old.  The last words she heard her mother speak made her promise to never use her song for revenge.  She kept that promise.  But things have changed.  She was once content to tend the garden, ignored by those she fed.  Now?  Now, she joins the struggle to protect the Village, to protect her friends.  But she is different.  She can hear the void, she can understand it in ways no one ever could.  She can correct it.

I may have a winner!

The biggest problem I have been having with publishing Silent Symphony was my inability to pitch it. It took a while, but I believe I may have overcome that problem. Surprisingly enough, it came after speaking to someone who just yesterday quit her day job at my work to pursue a full time writing career. More specifically, it came after reading her short story "The Anniversary" on her website.

In every synopsis I wrote previously, I focused on the character development, on emotional changes, instead of the not so underlying plot. In Silent Symphony, the void is the underlying theme throughout the series, yet in my pitch, I mention it as more of an after thought. Sort of a "and she cried...Oh, and the void is destroying everything, but back to the emotional drama..."

In The Anniversary, erotica romance novelist Jesse Pearle, begins her short story about a tattoo artist remembering the death of her lover eight years prior. She focuses on mind-numbing work to distract her from her memories until her lovers best friend walks in the front door for his yearly "how are you doing on this day?" appointment.

Knowing Pearle writes romance, the back of my mind already knows where the story is headed, yet still the words are captivating. Even as the characters launch into inevitable passionate scene, the underlying remembrance of a lost love is still at the forefront of the reader's attention. Pearle does not compromise the story, does not let it slip for an instant, as she fulfills every expectation of a romance story.

I literally closed the website and I opened a Word document to begin the fifth attempt at a successful query. I will upload it tomorrow morning before I go baby shopping. Assuming it goes as well as I hope, I only need to find someone to query, whether it be a publisher or an agent. Anyway, good night world!

Problems Promoting

The biggest thing holding Silent Symphony back right now is my ability to pitch it, yet everyone who has read it thus far has said it was great. I think my biggest weakness is trying to find selling points others might like that could be marketable, but all I am coming up with is a young adult romance similar to Twilight.

My story is about a girl orphaned and outcast from society at three. She wants nothing more than to tend her garden and be ignored. But when a lost Bard escapes a fate worse than death, she risks her life to save his.

From there, her life begins to snow ball, picking up momentum and stray friends as she hurtles through countless physical, social, and emotional challenges. Using her song as a weapon, she quickly surpasses every expectation. In the end, she follows in her parents' footsteps, braving unparalleled beasts to defend everything she cares about.

The second book unveils the causality behind the greatest threat to the Village, unmasks the one responsible, and forces the party to question their own morality and their loyalties.

The third explores a dichotomy in social structures identifying the mechanisms behind an ancient feud. It evaluates the impacts of technology on a society dominated by magic and exposes the underlying threats the party inadvertently released.

The fourth concludes the series in a cataclysmic battle requiring hard decisions, agonizing sacrifices, brilliant strategic manipulation, and internal coordination. In this final book, the party must decide the fate of two societies, their families, and their own harmonies.

I have the first book done, am about half way through writing the second, and know the major plot points of the remaining two. If only I could find a way to make the first book sound as heart pounding and visually dynamic as it is so someone else would want to read it. Anyone have any successful query letters and synopsis they wouldn't mind sharing?

It's Been A Long Time

"How have you been? I've been really busy...being dead...you know, after you murdered me!"  Ok, so I couldn't help myself. Portal 2 references just seemed fitting after such a long absence.

I needed to take some time, to reflect on what I wanted to do with my book. For a while, I lost interest in the idea of publishing. I found an agent I really liked, an agent I felt I could relate too and understand. I submitted my work to her around the beginning of December. She got back to me right around Christmas. She was very polite in her rejection and I appreciate her taking the time to bother with my work.

Sadly, when it was all said and done and I began looking for another agent, no one quiet jumped out at me like she did. Jennifer Jackson is the Vice President of Donald Maass Literary Agency, and pioneered the acceptance of women's literature within the Agency. She keeps a blog and periodically shows her readers the statistics for queries she receives. She asks from input from her audience on how best to improve her posts for writers. I haven't found a single other available agent that goes to these lengths and guarantees a response. I really like her style and ethic. I just wish I could have captured her attention as much as she captured mine.

But now I need to move on. I am looking into Momentum, an all e-book publishing house an Australian author friend of mine published through. I doubt I will get very far, but I at least need to try.

If you are still out there, dear reader, thank you for your patience. And hopefully Silent Symphony will see publication soon.

The Problem in Decisions

There is a startling revelation to be made when you realize simple decisions about your life can have devastating consequences to seemingly uninvolved individuals. I know it seems juvenile and childish, but I was recently reminded of one such circumstance.

For a while now, I have been jokingly considering certain actions I believed only affected myself and my husband only to be painfully reminded such actions have a traumatizing impact on another close relationship. Now I am faced with a decision to continue down my path or alter course to save another such misery.

And the worst of it is others cavalier attitude toward the entire situation. Anyway, today was an uncomfortable reminder of our responsibilities towards others.

Dear Reader

Dear Reader,

Whoever you are, I think you may be the only one that actually reads my blog.  I remember the first time I saw the +1 on one of my posts.  I looked at it rather confused for a long time before I realized what it was.  Admittedly, earlier this morning when I wrote my last post, I had forgotten about you.  I can't imagine what about my blog has peaked your interest, but I must say thank you for taking the time to read it.

I recently discovered Pentatoxic and was listening to their youtube channel.  They have a song they cover that I hadn't heard before.  It was called "Don't you worry child."  One of the lines is "Don't you worry child, heaven's got a plan for you."  I couldn't stop laughing and crying at the same time.  The day I write about giving up hope is the day I discover that song.

Thank you.  From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading my blog.

Alexis

For Want

I think it is pretty safe to say not very many, if any, read this blog.  I think the page views I have thus far are simply blog rating websites sending out the occasional feelers.  Not even my family reads this.  And today...I'm ok with that.

In January of this year when I was officially hired full time with my company and awarded the "less than amazing, but better than nothing" benefits package, I had an IUD removed while I was still covered by my previous insurance.  The reason I did this was I wanted to avoid having to find an OB-GYN so early on this new insurance plan.  I had the IUD removed on January 8th.  By March, I was pregnant and rather excited about it.  We hadn't planned on having a baby so quickly, but we were certainly not going to complain.  I was actually on an impromptu business trip when I got the confirmation and the first person I told was my project manager in Las Vegas.

Unfortunately, early in April, I started bleeding.  At first, it was just spotting, then it became a full on period.  I was worried and I found a OB-GYN that came highly recommended by many women I know.  By April 19th, we found out we lost the baby and I had to have a D & C to effectively clean everything out and start over.  Then we waited.  And waited.  Nothing happened; I was supposed to have a normal period again and I didn't.  We went back to the doctor and he gave me a shot to jump-start the process.  He said the body sometimes forgets what it is supposed to do.  From then on, everything worked out pretty well.  Things went back to normal and we decided to actively try again.

Well, its December now.  I am late and have been suffering a bit of a head-cold/allergies.  I went to the doctor yesterday and he had me tested.  Today, I got the results back.  Not pregnant.  And now...

It's funny.  I never post this kind of thing on Facebook because I figure no one really cares.  They "like" a post and occasionally leave a witty retort, but how many people actually care about the day to day.  I have never really felt like the world gave a damn so why waste their time?  But here, in my anonymous cocoon, I have a space on the internet no one bothers to look into and I can say whatever I want.  No one will read it, no one will "like" it or leave a Hallmark greeting card response.  Here I can spell out my thoughts and not disturb a soul.

My husband is a strange sort of man.  His emotions are kept close to the vest, even from me.  He was wounded...emotionally...and now, he doesn't let anyone see his true pain.  When we lost the baby, I was angry with him for that, angry he didn't share my pain.  But then after a few months, I saw just how much it was hurting him.  He let his walls crumble slightly, forgot to keep the veneer polished.  I saw him cry more often than he would care to admit.  He is 28 now, I am 25.  He wants to have a family, to have kids.  He wants to be the amazing dad he wished he grew up with.  And it just doesn't seem to be happening.

I know it isn't my fault, that I haven't done anything to cause this, but that doesn't change how it feels.  That doesn't change the sorrow catching the breath in my throat.  I want to be a mother.  I want to have my husband's children running around the house.  I want to watch them grow and raise them to be anything they want to be.  I want to be more than I am.

Two nights ago, I had a dream and when I woke up, I had this overwhelming feeling that I was pregnant, that I wouldn't start this month.  I was excited even though I was only a few days late.  I should have known better.  Ever since I was a child, I have known disappointment.  I have learned not to get excited about things, to just let things happen as they come without expectation.  Every time I make plans and get excited for something, it never works out and I become angry and irrational.  That's why I refused to be excited about my wedding, I refused to get my hopes up or set my sights on "the perfect day."  I knew if I did, then every little thing that went wrong would by a huge disappointment and my wedding would be ruined.  Instead, I had no expectations.  I walked down the aisle with a happy-go-lucky attitude and laughed when my shoe fell off as I marched down the stairs.  I threw foam balls around, blew bubbles, and chased kids around the park at my reception.  I enjoyed the day, with all of its problems, and had a truly remarkable wedding.

I keep telling myself to do the same thing in this case, to not get my hopes up, not set any expectations.  I even tried to convince myself I couldn't be pregnant until I was rushed to the delivery room.  But how do you do that with something like a baby?  How do you refuse to be excited, to have hope, to look forward to, to plan for a baby?  How do you shield your heart against heartbreak every time you shop near the baby aisle?  And more importantly, how do you smile in your husband's face and hide away your tears of frustration, of disappointment, of loss, and of sorrow?  How do you pretend nothing is wrong when every fiber of your being is screaming for want of a baby?

Illiterate Writer

As the cost of higher education continues to increase, a growing number of Americans are finding it unaffordable to obtain a college education to say nothing of the paying off the outlandish and mismanaged federal student loans. To demonstrate this concept, I would like to tell you my story.

I am a 25-year-old, female civil engineer. When I was 2, my parents divorced and my father practically disappeared. By the time I was 6, I was diagnosed ADHD, suspected of dyslexia, and molested by a family friend. My mom worked her way up a local government job against several obstacles into management, placing her in the lower middle class, yet we only ever survived.

When I was 10 years old, shingles, ringworm, and strep throat placed me in quarantine for 21 consecutive days, during which time my mother discovered I was illiterate. Somehow, she scrapped together the money to enroll me in Sylvan Learning Center. In 6 months, my reading comprehension and writing skills increased from a 2^nd grade reading level to a 12+ level. I also patched up some holes in my math skills and corrected a speech impediment. My mom told me there was nothing I could not achieve if I set my mind to it.

I never really thought about being disabled or illiterate because when I graduated high school in the top ten, I felt comfortable academically. I applied for dozens of scholarships fitting in as many essays amidst my Advanced Placement and Honors course work.  Unfortunately, given my demographic and mother's annual income, I was overlooked by numerous scholarships entering college with the Cal Grant, the 3^rd place local Elk’s Lodge "Student of the Year" scholarship for $500, and the ever delightful federal subsidized and unsubsidized student loans.

From 2006-2008, I struggled like many underclassmen to register for classes in an overly impacted university when the California budget forced Cal Poly Pomona to cut nearly all of the lower division math classes.  Nevertheless, after 5 years, I graduated Magna Cum Laude with honors in 2011 with a bachelor's degree in civil engineering. Despite numerous extracurricular activities including Chi Epsilon Job Fair Chair and Community Service Coordinator, I was unable to find gainful employment for 6 months and began volunteering with the City of Riverside Water Resources Department in November 2011. Unfortunately, my $25,000 student loans entered deferment until a water engineering consulting company mercifully hired me in July 2012.

Around February 2013, I decided to hone my literary skills; I wrote a short story, which very quickly became a full-length novel at 143,000 words. Now, looking back I realize the feat I accomplished. I overcame several learning and developmental disabilities to graduate top of my class in a mathematical field only to write the first book in a series in my spare time.

Despite all of my accomplishments, I received minimal scholarships. I am just a single student in the desperate middle class struggling to secure a future.  Hundreds of scholarships exist for the impoverished, but few exist for the surviving.  I am not a politician; I do not pretend to understand the intricacies of the Washington agenda, but what I do know is more of the middle class are working dead-end jobs hoping for a lucky break to continue their education.  I am now seeking publication of my novel in the hopes of starting a scholarship foundation to fill in the gap.  I will do my part to ensure all Americans can attend college.  What will you do?

Alexis Rhodes

P.S. If you would like to fact check my story, email storytellerrhodes@gmail.com requesting my real name and supporting documents.

Major Revisions

Now that I have two readers who have finished Silent Symphony, I have began my third major revision.  This first pass is a content revision in which, surprisingly enough, I am adding additional description in certain key areas.  My husband indicated there were several patches where the vague description actually jarred him out of the story and thus made it difficult for him to focus on the story.  I find this humorous because usually I am rather verbose in the descriptive areas and am forced to cut back, but now I am actually needing additional clarification.

I am also critically analyzing my magic system for flaws and consistency errors with Lullaby Trials.  A primary issue at the moment is the evolution of the main characters understanding of the void.  In the beginning, very little information is known and as a result, a great deal of irrelevant lore exists.  As the story progresses, various nuances unfold indicating the true complexity of the void, but it is in these nuances that I may have unintentionally contradicted myself.

Thankfully, it has been a while since I last read Silent Symphony, so now I am effectively reading it from scratch again.  I am hoping to be "done" with the content revision quickly and with any luck will get the grammatical and spelling mark-ups pretty soon.  On the plus side, one of my readers has been struggling with edits because she is getting too wrapped up in the story itself.  Personally, I am tickled pink this problem even exists.  Happy reading!!

Eliciting Emotion

My husband finished Silent Symphony last week. He is usually a very detached person when it comes to book characters. He never forms an emotional attachment unless the character is an animal. For example, he cried and got very angry when Hopper, the wolf in the Wheel of Time series, died, but wouldn't give a toss when Dumbledor died. He just isn't that type of reader.

Nevertheless, while reading my book, he said "I know I am an emotional basket case because I keep wanting to cry whenever I read your book." I replied "Or I could be a good writer capable of eliciting emotions in my audience." He replied, "no, I'm just emotionally messed up at the moment." Aside from the fact he managed to revoke his own man-card and insult me at the same time, I have it on good authority that he is wrong. When I handed the first chapter to my mom to read, she cried hysterically before she finished the first paragraph. Three other readers have told me similar instances and I must confess, I am giddy with the prospect of affecting my audience so drastically.

One family member said, "usually when I read, I read the descriptions of a scene and never really get a visual, but with your book, I can actually see Ali sitting on the wall with the wind wiping her hair against her back like a banner. I have never had that happen to me before."  I know I am still a novice writer, but hearing stories like this about my book fill me with great pride and give me hope for my publishing future. If you have read any part of my story and experienced something similar, please let me know. Hope to hear from you! :D

Melancholy

Today is a day of melancholy contentment. I am sprawled out on a cot near the window staring out into the boring day waiting for family to come back from shopping. Normally, I would be playing a game or reading a book, but today, I am a cat staring out at the world I want nothing to do with.

1 Reader And Counting

I am super excited; finally 1 person has finished Silent Symphony! Granted, it was my husband and I threatened serious bodily injury of he didn't read it, but let's not get hung up on the details. And to be fair, several friends and family have started out, but unfortunately many are super busy with life and such nonsense.

So this is a special thanks to all my beloved readers thus far. I will also have this list in the front of my book as well.

To my friends: Cristina, Dya, Andrea, Kevin, and Zerline, thank you so much for taking the time to give it a try. I hope you enjoy and are engaged throughout.

To my family: Lissa, Rose, Matt, Dee, and Mommy, I hope my story lives up to your wildest expectations while maintaining some assemblance of sanity. Just remember, this is far from my wildest tale told...and I did NOT steal cookies from the cookie jar... *shifty eyes*

And finally, to my darling husband: when this story began, I had nothing in particular in mind. I simply wanted to expand upon my storytelling. But now that it is finished and I see the beginnings of these relationships, I am reminded of how much I love you and of all the tiny things that have made our 7+ years together wonderful. I love you and hope you enjoyed my trip down the literary rabbit hole.

Moms are Awesome

Moms are Awesome for so many reasons, but here is my reason today.

When I was in first grade, my daycare played The Newsies frequently and as a result, and I am not kidding, I developed a New York accent. Sadly, I am from California and here professionals call that a speech impediment. My mom took me to speech therapy classes where I met my childhood bestfriend, Nicole.

In the fifth grade, I had shingles, ring-worm, and strep throat simultaneously. I was quarantined for 21 days. My mom stayed home and ensured I got all my homework done...in the process discovering I was illiterate and suspected I was dyslexic. Add that to the "cage-sour" and ADHD and I am legitimately shocked to be alive right now.

But despite the headaches, my mom never gave up on me. She figured out how to pay for me to go to Sylvan Learning Center, where a team of awesome albeit expensive tutors helped me go from a 2nd grade reading level to a 12+ level in about 3 months. Sadly, spelling and grammar are still dodgy at best.

Nevertheless, I went on to high school and AP English where my papers routinely "bleed" and the most common tragedy was the comma. But I passed the test with a 4 and went to college to become an environmental civil engineer. I took a Science Fiction/Fantasy class my fourth year where my final project was to write a short story. Mine was 20 pages long and only needed to be 5.

I graduated Magna Cum Laude with honors and a BS in civil engineering. I have since started working with an environmental consulting engineering firm and in about 4 months, I wrote a 143,000 word book. My husband's words were, and I quote, "you're a wordy little bastard, aren't you?" referencing DBZ Abridged season 1.

The gist...none of this would have been possible if not for an amazingly supportive and annoyingly persistent mom who put her entire single-mom life on hold to raise me, guide me, nurture me, and kick me in the ass occasionally. So for all you mothers out there, first, a toast to being epically mom, and second, keep up the hard work, even when you would rather curl up and cry. Your children will benefit from it and their futures will be brighter for it.

Chilly Days & Temporary Insanity

The weather today is a brisk 48 degrees,  cloudy, rainy, and slightly windy out at the pilot. We are waiting for parts before we can turn on the system, but in the meantime, I am enjoying my lunch and suffering temporary insanity.

As a native Southern Californian, I have always loved the rain for a variety of reasons, primarily because it is relatively scarce in the Los Angeles area, but also because I have always been able to bundle up with a warm blanket, jacket, hot drink, etc. and go out into the rain on my terms. But now that I am a "big girl" out in the "real world," I can't just pull the blankets back over my head and snuggle in.

In LT, there is a point where one of the characters is trapped in the elements for am extended period of time, and I think I know understand exactly how this character should react. Stuck out here in the cold has made thoughts of anything but warmer things rather illusive and I would imagine hallucinations rather prevalent at a certain point. On a side note, perhaps gloves might be in order prior to the coolest winter days.

Empty Houses

As I mentioned in PTSD vs. Higher Education, we have been in search of a house.  Well, I am pleased to say, the search is over.  I am currently sitting on the floor in the front room of our brand new house in surprisingly pleasant Hemet, CA.  Truth be told, I have hated Hemet proper since I was a child riding in a painfully slow car up Florida Avenue on my way to the mountains for camping, but now that I am a Hemetite...its growing on me...like a fungus.  I can't get over the view from our front yard.  The foothills, the riverbed, the peace.  Admittedly, I am jumping at every unfamiliar sound, but in time I think I will like it here.

Unfortunately, I am supposed to be at my day-job at the moment, but instead had to take paid time-off to babysit my house.  The previous residents had a water softener system which they elected to take with them upon leaving the house.  Unfortunately for us, they simply unhooked the piping and left the water off.  Now for those of you not in the potable water industry, potable waterlines are never supposed to be left open to the air.  Apart from contaminates, critters like dark spaces with available sources of water, hence my water pipes are the ideal roosting place for spiders and the like.  Furthermore, since none of the pipes have been sealed off, turning the water back on would result in flooding in our garage and kitchen.

As part of our registered complaints upon taking possession of the house, we requested they complete the removal of the system including proper sealing of the potable water system and the removal of the filtration system upstream of the water heater.  Our agent even took pictures of the "offending" parts, however the seller is claiming they have not received the pictures, but will be stopping by the house sometime between noon and 6 p.m. to correct their improper plumbing.  Yay for me!

So I am sitting and will likely continue to sit on the floor of our house with no available facilities for six hours with nothing but my phone to keep me company while my husband and little brother hang out playing video games in Colton.  While I enjoy the peace and quiet, the flies, lack of food, restroom inaccessibility, and the loneliness are overbearing.  At least I have time to work on my synopsis for Silent Symphony.

Audience?

I must admit the main reasons I have not blogged in a while are (1) I have suffered a small case of writer's block, (2) I have been very busy working my day job, and (3) I have been rather disheartened lately about my writing in general. In the back,quiet, more rational side of my brain, I fully understand how crazy people's lives can get, but the louder side of my brain is crying out saying "look what I did!! Be proud of me and enjoy my work."

So to appease my simple-sided self, if you are reading this, do me a favor and leave a comment. I would love to know how many actually read this and how many views are just tracking sites.

Work & Pleasure

My work has been interesting lately.  I have a new project that started up on Monday and I am in the process of getting everything fully operational.  One of the most challenging parts is being completely useless in the entire process.  A bunch of guys with a lot more experience than I possess have taken over a large portion of my tasks which works out to be exceptionally beneficial in the long run for a variety of reasons, but has left me feeling rather obsolete.

On the plus side, terrifying, new challenges are cropping up which at least pose interesting puzzlers. This entire situation gives me new perspective on how my characters should react when they feel useless. Ali especially will have a hard time with this throughout the story.

I am really looking forward to working on LT this weekend and maybe working on my synopsis as well. Ms. Jackson clarified her submission requirements, so I need to drastically reduce my synopsis to 1 or 2 pages. My little brother had been reading SS in his free time so I look forward to his comments and will likely need to make substantial revisions. I'm toying with submitting first, just to see her comments before revising, but at the same time, I wouldn't want to give her an unfinished product.

Tolerances

I have always taken great pride in being non-judgmental of people.  I have always found myself to be exceptionally understanding of people and their differences.  But I discovered today that I am entirely the opposite.  I am extremely judgmental, but not of the “usual” people.

Many people see someone with a disability, any disability, and don’t know how to react.  Some are outright mean and cruel, others avoid them entirely.  Me?  I see someone with a disability and I see someone who has likely been kicked, mocked, teased, and abused most of their life and I want to help them.  I want to be a friend to them, to show that not all people are cruel, to show they have worth beyond their disability.  I can quite honestly say, for people with disabilities, I make it my goal to be their best friend.

It’s everyone else I am intolerant of.  I see a blond driving and texting; my first instinct is “bobble-head bitch that is going to cut me off soon.”  I don’t know why she is texting.  I don’t know if it is an emergency and she is being pursued by mad gunman planning on selling her into slavery.  I don’t know if she is rushing to the hospital because her son cracked is skull open on the playground and is being sent for emergency surgery with limited chances of survival.  All I see is hair color, gender, and cell phone immediately assuming “bitch.”

Similarly, I see a hot guy in a classy shirt and nice fitting jeans and automatically assume he is gay.  For all I know, he is model or is on his way to a date.  Interestingly enough, I have objections to him being gay apart from not being on the menu as a hot dish.  I was thoroughly disappointed to discover Neil Patrick Harris and Matt Bomer were gay, but I didn’t think anything less of them because of it.

This entire dichotomy came to light when I was remembering a conversation I had about Peter Dinklage.  I remember hearing about a statement he made where he said something to the effect of “women don’t see me for me, they see me for my money.  When it really comes down to it, women will chase after the six foot tall guys everything time.”  I was imagining what I would say to him if I ran into him on the street (yes, I do that sometimes…very active imagination).  I would say, “You’re wrong.  You are far more than your appearance.  Any woman worth her salt would see you for what you were and fall in love with the man not the money.”  I know, a lot of girls say that, but it’s true.

I have a friend in an online game that is 28, over 6 feet tall, skinny as a rail, and has a trachea tube.  He has never had a girlfriend, and swears he has never been kissed let alone anything else.  Yet girls tell him all the time how amazing he is as a friend and will cry on his shoulder when their gorgeous boyfriends hurt them.  They friend-zone him constantly, and it makes me so angry.  I know him through a video game.  In that world, appearances don’t matter.  Personality does, actions do, words do.  There, people can be themselves and be known for who they truly are beyond their appearances.  Or alternatively, they can be their alter-ego acting out situations they would never dare to try face to face.

Regardless, I thought I was above the judgmental assumptions, but in truth, I only assume the worst about the average person…or the exceptionally wealthy (that probably stems from being lower middle class and hearing about millionaires complain about billionaires doing whatever they want).  Today, I realized that in my attempts at being completely tolerant, I became exceptionally judgmental of many people.  Maybe now that I realize my habits, I can finally find a way to break the cycle and become truly accepting of people and their individuality.