Pembroke Sinclair's Blog, page 5

Wreaths, Books, and Baseball!

Hey, friends!

My boys are currently doing a fundraiser for their baseball teams. This is how they get money to buy uniforms and equipment. They are selling wreaths, so if anyone is interested in buying one, I am more than happy to ship it to you (open to U.S. shipping only). I can take payment through PayPal or Venmo (details at bottom).


If you’d like to donate but you don’t want a wreath, I am also offering my ebooks as an incentive. For every $5 you donate, this equals one book. All of my ebooks are available, with the exception of Life Lessons from Slasher Films. I get none of this money, it all goes to my kids, so think of the books as my way of saying thank you. Again, I can take payment through PayPal or Venmo.

Shoot me a message and let me know if this is something you’re interested in! Orders are due by October 13th.

PayPal: alienqueen830 @ hotmail . com
Venmo: @Jess-Robinson-78

The Price of Exhaustion

There are so many things I need to do. Words need to be written, stuff needs to be cleaned, other items need to be organized. Life needs to occur.

But I have no energy to do any of them; no desire. I barely have the ability to pull myself out of bed in the morning to get the kids to school and sit in front of my computer to work. I do it, out of a sense of duty and obligation, but it leaves me feeling wasted and drained.

This won’t last forever. Eventually I’ll find my motivation and energy once again, but until then, I can only do what I can each day. It’s not much, but it’s enough. Sometimes, that’s all you can expect.

Schedule Changes and Falling Behind

First of all, I would like to say that I can’t believe it’s September. I’ve been waiting for school to start, but I didn’t think time would come this fast!

Speaking of school starting, my boys went back to school about 3 weeks ago. I was totally counting down the days. They needed to get back into a routine and spend some time away from one another. There was a lot of brotherly togetherness over the summer, which means a lot of fighting. A. Lot.

One week after the boys started school, I also started. I have the opportunity to teach English composition through the community college to high school students. That has been…interesting. We are still working out some kinks and issues with the website. I’m sure by the end of the semester, things will be flowing nicely.

While the schedule changes needed to happen and I’m glad school is back in session, that also means I’m behind. Throw into the mix the fact that both boys have already had stomach bugs and I got a cold, things have been challenging.

However, it’s September and things are going to go up from here. I have high hopes of this semester and the end of the year. At some point, I’m even expecting to get back to writing.

“There’s Room for Everyone’s Stories”

Over the weekend, I had the opportunity to travel to Torrington, Wyoming , for Wyoming Author Day. I may not live in the state anymore, but being born and raised there makes me a Wyoming author for life. I also get to claim whatever state I currently live in. It’s in the rules. Look it up.

Anyway, I debated for a while about whether or not I was actually going to go. It a long drive there (6.5 hours one way, to be exact), and there was no guarantee I would sell any books. Not that the only reason I would go is to sell books, there are other perks to these events, but it can be a deciding factor.

I hemmed and hawed for a long time trying to decide if I wanted to go. The organizer had asked me months in advance about participating, and at the time, it sounded like a great idea. As the date got closer and life became complicated, it didn’t sound like such a fabulous idea anymore.

Eventually, I decided to go. I had committed to being there, so I felt I needed to honor that. I wasn’t sad that I decided to go. I actually had a lot of fun and met some amazing people. The drive was awful, and on the way home I’m pretty sure I hit about a million bugs, but Wyoming Author Day was a success.
 

In addition to meeting some great people and selling a few books (yes, I sold some books), there was a panel discussion. One of the speakers was a representative from the Wyoming Poets Society, and she made a comment about the number of books and stories and poetry that are written and published every day. She also made an interesting comment when she said, “There’s room for everyone’s stories.”


This really struck me. It gave me a chill and inspiration. I loved it, and I thought that it encompassed the spirit of the event. Not only that, but it kinda felt like a good mantra.

If you think about it or look at statistics, there are millions of stories published every year. M-i-l-l-i-o-n-s. And that’s just on Amazon. Think of all the other ones that aren’t counted because people put them on other platforms or make them available on their websites or blogs.


As an author, getting noticed in this sea of reading choices, it can be downright impossible. But that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t write. It doesn’t mean we should throw in the towel and say forget it just because we aren’t going to make millions of dollars or get a three-movie deal.

There’s room for everyone’s stories.

Put your thoughts and ideas down on paper. Get your story edited and published. Put your story out there. You have something valuable to say, and someone, somewhere wants to read it.

Who knows? Maybe you will get lucky and get the big fat paycheck and a blockbuster movie. The only way to know is to try.

The Promise of Resilience

It had been 20+ years since I’d been to the house.

Not much had changed.

The exterior paint was a bit more faded and chipped.
The cracks in the sidewalk were deeper.

The drive had started out early, filled with stress and anxiety.
Before facing my family, I needed a moment.

I stepped out of the car and took a walk around the house.
I came around the front to go to the side.
My gaze fell on a sight that brought tears to my eyes.

Winter had laid the branches bare, leaving them thin, exposed.
The skeletal figure was both frail and strong.
It looked like the twigs could be snapped with ease,
But they could also sway and bend with the breeze.

The branches weren’t completely barren or bland.
On most of the ends grew a white and pink flower.
They stood in contrast to the brown sticks that made up the frame.
They spoke of hope and the ability to overcome.

I saw myself in that bush.
How the past year and a half had broken me down, made me a shell of my former self,
Left me exposed, vulnerable, a thin frame of what I had been before.

Despite the exposure and attempt to weaken, there was still strength.
The ability to bend in the wind and weather the toughest of storms.

Life had stripped me down, cut me to the core.
But with the devastation, there is the beauty of growth.
The promise of resilience. 

Looking for Reviewers

With the re-release of a couple of my books, I seem to have lost my reviews. I'm looking for people who are interested in reading and reviewing, so shoot me a message! More information about the books is below, and I have pdf and mobi versions available.

If these books don't interest you but you want to check out one of my other ones, let me know! You can find them at my author page .


What happens when humanity's hope rests on the shoulder of a teenager?

Caleb didn’t come out of the zombie uprising unscathed. He’s been scarred—both mentally and physically. The rest of humanity is trying to rebuild, to make the world normal again. Caleb is trying to return to a normal life also, but after all he’s seen, after the loss of his family and friends, the transition is difficult.

The darkness that led him down a path of self-doubt and self-harm has never left his mind. Things only become worse when he discovers he’s immune to whatever makes a zombie a zombie. Fighting zombies was predictable. He knew what to expect. Fighting humans is volatile. They are malicious and treacherous. They won’t stop to get what they want, and Caleb has to figure out exactly what that is.



Does being immune to becoming a zombie still make a person human?

Caleb tried to live a normal life after the uprising. He moved into the city, found a home, and worked a job. He yearned for days full of tedium and schedules. Instead, he discovered he was immune to becoming a zombie, and his life was turned upside down.Fear and uncertainty have replaced normalcy.

Caleb no longer knows if his immunity makes him human or something else … something monstrous. He knows who is after him, but to find out what his captors want and what he is he'll have to play their game and give up his freedom. His sacrifice may or may not lead to the answers he desperately craves.

Some Things to Share

This post is a bit late because I was waiting for some news so I could share. The first is that I did an online interview, and you can listen to it here. If you click on the orange text near the top of the blog, it will download the player.

In addition, I have re-released the first two books in my Saving Humanity YA zombie series. They even have lovely new covers. Currently, they are only available as ebooks, but soon they will be available as paperbacks. Links are below. Enjoy!

Humanity's Hope


Edge of Humanity

Finding Me

 Photo by Geran de Klerk on Unsplash
For a long time, I let other people define me. I would attempt to figure out what they expected of me, and then act accordingly. I wanted so badly to feel like I belonged and I was part of the group, I would change who I was just to fit in.

As a people pleaser , I got my definition and validation from how people viewed me. It would devastate me if someone didn’t like me. I would go out of my way to make things right and to ensure that they had a good view of me.

Because I was letting others define who I was, I believed them when they told me I was selfish, or a bad writer, or terrible at editing, or embarrassing. Along with the good came all the bad, and I took it all in and let it dictate who I was.

Within the last few months, my family suffered loss. During this time, it became clear that the way I was living, the desire to get my validation and definition from others, wasn’t sustainable. I lost a huge part of my support system as they worked through their own problems and their own grief. I was left alone.

Last year, when my anxiety and depression were at their worst, I did a lot of reading. There were a lot of self-help books in my TBR pile. If there was one thing that all of them had in common, it was that I had to depend on me.

You see, there are inherent flaws that occur when I let others determine who I am. First, I had to guess what they expected of me. Sure, they may have told me at some point in time that they needed me to do certain things or act in a certain way, but they never came right out and said, “This is who you should be.” Thus, I was guessing. I was making an assumption about what I thought they wanted.

We all know what assuming does: it makes an ass out of you and me. There’s absolutely no way I can ever know what a person truly thinks of me or what they expect of me. In addition, everyone I encountered would want or need something different.

This is an incredibly exhausting way to live. Constantly changing to meet the different wants and needs of other people left me stressed out and tired. It took a toll on my health , contributed to my anxiety and depression. It left me feeling hollow and unfulfilled.

I want to stress that there is a difference between being kind to someone and helping them out with what I was doing. I needed them to like me, otherwise I felt like I wasn’t a person. I needed to know I was loved and valuable, and I would do whatever I could to get that from others.

They can’t give that to me.

While my support system was going through their issues, I did the best I could to be there for them. I sent words of encouragement and kept my problems to myself. I was there when they needed me and did what they asked.

But I also learned something along the way. I learned how to depend on myself. I learned that no matter what the world throws at me and how tough things get, I have to be there to get myself through.




All of the self-help reading I did about having faith in myself and finding happiness within became clear. While there’s nothing wrong with being connected to others and having relationships, they shouldn’t define who I am. They aren’t the ones who validate my existence. Only I can do that.

No one else can solve my problems for me, only I can do that. No one else can tell me I matter, only I can do that.

Having this revelation was at once freeing and frightening. It had been a long time since I’d been in touch with the real me, I didn’t know who I was anymore.

To find out, I withdrew. I put up walls. I cut off contact.

I had a lot to learn about what was going on in my head and my heart, and I needed to be alone to do it. I’m still trying to figure things out and where I fit in the world. It’s hard. It’s scary. But it’s also freeing.

I still worry about what others think about me, but it doesn’t keep me up at night like it used to. I can let things go and don’t worry so much about looking like a fool or being selfish or bad. I’m honestly getting to the point where I don’t care. Parts of the true me are finding their way to the surface, and I like what I see.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not going out of my way to be mean or rude to others. I’m still the nice person I always was, but I don’t feel the need to make people like me. If I’m having a conversation with someone and they don’t seem interested, I don’t struggle to find a topic they might enjoy. I just let things go. If I don’t want to hang out with people, I don’t. There isn’t an unrelenting drive inside that says I have to be around people to be of value.

The road is long and there’s a lot of history to deal with. While I can’t change anything from the past, I can learn from it—and learning I am. If there’s one thing I can take from this whole thing it’s that when I finally decide who I am and who I want to be, I’m going to be amazing. 

Putting Yourself Out There

Image by 정훈 김 from Pixabay 
As a writer, I am always looking for ways to get myself and my work out to potential readers. Doing things online can be beneficial, but getting out and meeting people face to face can also be beneficial.

However, this process isn’t always easy, especially because I have anxiety and depression. Some days I’m scared to death and imagine that others will think I’m a fraud or ridiculous or have nothing of value to say. Other days, I’m too tired to even try.

The first year after we moved to Nebraska, both anxiety and depression had a huge impact on me. It was hard to do much of anything, let alone get out and interact with people. Seriously, I couldn’t even write without having a panic attack, so attending conferences or conventions wasn’t even an option.

I slowly got back into going to conventions, and the first one I participated in was O! Con in Omaha. After being there, I realized how much I missed that environment and mingling with people. I decided I needed to get back on the horse.

This year has been my year. So far, I’ve been to Crypticon in Seattle and O! Con in Omaha . Both were so much fun. I hope I get to go back next year. I’m already brainstorming some new panels/discussions!

In addition, I get to participate in the Wyoming Author Day in Torrington in August. I will also be going to the MAPACA conference in Philly . This one is much more research and literary based, but it’s still a lot of fun. The last time I was there was several years ago. This year’s theme is zombies, and Philly is where
I also have a library presentation set up for October, as well as participating in a state conference. I can’t tell you how excited I am! All of these are going to be so much fun, and I get to hang out with people who have the same interests I do!

If you’ve never been to a conference or a convention, I highly recommend checking one out. You don’t have to dive right in and start doing presentations or workshops (although you can if you want). Being a face in the crowd and attending panels or oohing and aahing over celebrities can be a lot of fun too.

In case you were wondering, there is a difference between a convention and a conference. While both can be educational, a conference is usually geared more toward research and people sharing their work. A convention is when people dress up as their favorite characters and meet famous people.

Both can be a great way to mingle and meet some amazing people, and both have the opportunity to learn new things—they just do it in very different ways.

Now, please don’t think that going to conferences and conventions has cured me of my ailments. They haven’t. I still get incredibly anxious before going “on stage” at these things. Being nervous is to be expected, but having anxiety means I go from being okay to thinking the world is going to end in about 1/10 of a second.

They can be incredibly exhausting, which can lead to depression and feeling like no one is listening to what I have to say or they don’t really care.

However, they do help in breaking me out of my shell. They allow me to feel like I have a place and a voice in this world. It may only be for a weekend, but sometimes that’s all I need. It’s really nice to get out and do something I enjoy. I will never be fully free of anxiety and depression, but conventions and conferences help me find new ways to cope and get me outside of my head.

Alone vs. Lonely

There’s a difference between being lonely and being alone. You don’t have to have one to have the other. Sometimes you can feel both at once. Alone is when you are by yourself. For some people, this is the preferred way to live. A person can be alone and not feel lonely.

Being lonely is the feeling that no one else in the world cares. It’s the belief that no one understands what you are going through and that you must suffer by yourself. This can happen when a person is alone, but it’s also something they can feel when they are surrounded by a crowd of people.

Whenever someone is hurting, whether it be from depression, anxiety, or another ailment, it can feel like they are alone in this world. Despite the cries from others that say, “I’m always here for you, you just reach out and let me know how I can help,” reaching out isn’t always easy.

Most of us who suffer from a mental illness, including anxiety and depression, know that there are others who feel the same. We know that there are millions of people in the world who struggle to get through their days, and we know that there are others who are willing to help us through our tough time.

But this doesn’t stop the feelings of loneliness. It doesn’t make it easier to reach out to others.

There can be so many different reasons why a person keeps their feelings bottled inside. Maybe they don’t want to burden their friends and family with their issues. Maybe they don’t know how to explain what they are feeling. Maybe they don’t want to talk about what’s hurting them. Maybe they haven’t received the emotional support they need.

Talking about mental health issues isn’t easy. A stigma surrounds these problems. Despite the fact that there are so many people who suffer from these problems, most people think they have to suffer alone.

This leads to loneliness.

Humans are social creatures . We thrive being in a group and hanging out with others. We often form deep attachments and feel a loss if those relationships go away.

When dealing with depression and anxiety, it can be hard to form relationships and interact with others. Anxiety will tell you that you’re saying something stupid and that you’re embarrassing. Depression will take away your energy and desire to hang out with friends and family. When they don’t call or text, it will tell you that they never really liked you anyway.

How do you voice this to someone without sounding needy? How do you let them know that you just need a little bit of reassurance and empathy?

For some, you may be able to come right out and say it. For others, it’s not that easy. Most people don’t want to look needy . That’s not a great quality to have. A lot of us also have problems asking for help when we really need it.

If we can’t have the connections with others that we want or need, that leads to loneliness. We don’t have to be alone to feel this. We can be at a social gathering and feel like we have nothing in common with the people around us. We may not be alone, but we definitely feel lonely.

Anxiety and depression are ailments that are experienced on an individual level. There may be some common traits associated with each, but how they manifest in an individual will vary. Each person deals with these issues in their own way. Because the issues stem from our own mind, it can be hard to explain to others exactly what we are going through. This further compounds loneliness.

Most people who suffer from mental illness are aware that there are others who want to help them, but being able to vocalize what is needed can be challenging. They may not know themselves.

On top of that, there’s a notion that no one can really help us with our problems anyway. At the end of the day, we’re the ones who have to find a way to cope and get through the anxiety or push through the depression. We can talk about it with others, but we’re the one who ultimately has to find a way through the pain.

This can make it even more challenging to open up to others. If they can’t do anything to fix the problem, what’s the point of bringing it up? Besides, they’re busy. They have their own lives and issues. They don’t need to deal with ours.

This can isolate you even further. It can push you deeper into anxiety and depression and make you feel even more lonely. It’s a vicious cycle. One I wish I had a way to break, but I don’t.