Penelope Crowe's Blog, page 7

Vacation! Why Don't I Want To Go??

I'm organizing my bathing suits, clothes, makeup and snacks to head to the beach for the weekend.



Normally this is something I look forward to so much that there are a few days I can think of nothing else.  Sitting near the blue ocean with a book and a cool drink in the breeze intoxicates me and calls like a relentless telemarketer.



Not this year.



I'm thinking of the pictures I need to draw for a book I am releasing.  The short stories in my head are shuffling around.  And marketing and advertizing is on my mind.



This is WORK.



And I completely and totally love it.



I've had jobs I've liked before.  I've had jobs I had a talent for.  But nothing before THIS has happily consumed my life.  I write creepy stories and draw pictures that are equally odd.  I also get to indulge my inner-child by writing for kid's.



I am not making enough money to support my family yet, but things are slowly moving in the right direction.



Of course being an author is not for everyone.  Neither is being an artist and drawing picutres all day.  But it IS for me, and every single day I am grateful that I can do it.  It also makes me hope that I am raising my son in a way that will allow him to do what he loves, and get paid for it. 



You know that little voice, the one that says go do that thing...whatever that thing is for you, go do it.  Even if you only have 15 minutes a day to spare, DO THAT THING.  Your thing.



Of course I'll have fun at the beach with my family.  The ocean will be salty, blue, and inviting.  But for the very first time, I will be just as happy to come home and get back to my job. 



So listen to that tiny voice, maybe someday you won't want to go on vacation either. :)

Can You Love One Person Forever?

My grandmother is almost 100 years old.



She was married to my grandfather over 65 years, and that is amazing to me.  They grew up in a port town in New Jersey and met when they were about eleven. They spent their childhoods with no television, and although the technology was available, they did not have a phone until they were married.  My grandfather used to try and pay a visit to my grandmother when they were in middle school, and her mother used to pour water on his head from the third story window to make him go away.



Obviously this did not deter him, for they were married about seven years later after he bought her a coat during one very cold winter because she did not have the money.



He was a big man--over six feet tall with a big barrel chest and strong arms. She was and is still tiny--more than a foot smaller than he, standing about four foot nine or ten.



I remember him often trying to give her kisses, and her playfully slapping him away.



When he passed away everyone cried--he was a man who loved everyone equally, played no favorites to kids, grand kids, or great-grand kids.  Except for one--his wife.  She was the girl of his dreams forever, and I could tell he never, ever lost his fondness for her.



I can't say the same in reverse.  She was eternally exasperated with him, and let him know in no uncertain terms.  Yet she was devastated when he passed.



We are not the same people we were when we met our mates.  Even five years can be an eternity when it comes to maturity.



I agree with Liz Phair when she says in her song "Somebody's Miracle" that watching a couple staying close is like the bloom of a rose.  I also agree with her that this is something to be envied.  To be able to evolve together, to stay in love, and to have someone forever is a gift.





















 "Somebody's Miracle"




I'm so far, so far away from it now

That it seems like I may never know how

People stay in love for half of their lives

It's a secret they keep between husbands and wives



Baby, There goes somebody's miracle

Walking down the street

There goes some modern fairy tale

I wish it could happen to me

But I look at myself

Wonderin' if I'm just too weak

To have such faith in myself



Once upon a time I was so restless in love

When things we're fine, I changed my mind just because

Now I see how wrong and reckless I've been

Each frog has a prince just waiting inside of him



Baby, there goes somebody's miracle

Walking down the street

There goes some modern fairy tale

I wish it could happen to me

But I look at myself, and I think what the hell

Maybe I'm just too naive

To have such faith in myself

You know I'm prayin' for it



But the queen, she likes to sit on her throne

Doesn't mean you two are never alone

It's just love has needs that love only knows

Watch a couple stay close, it's like the bloom of a rose



Baby, there goes somebody's miracle

Walking down the street

There goes some other fairy tale

I wish it could happen to me

There goes somebody's miracle

Walking down the street

There goes some modern fairy tale...



I never cry out loud,

I keep my tears to myself

But I woke up one day and I found my life had left me for someone else

I guess it must be unhappy with me



Baby, there goes somebody's miracle

Walking down the street

There goes some modern fairy tale

I wish it could happen to me

But I look at myself

Wondering if I'm just too weak

To have such faith in myself

You know I'm prayin for it

You know I'm prayin for it

You know I'm prayin for it

Is Medical Marijuana Legal or Not?

There are seventeen states, Alaska, Arizona, California, Colorado, Connecticut, Delaware, Hawaii, Maine, Michigan, Montana, Nevada, New Jersey, New Mexico, Oregon, Rhode Island, Vermont, Washington and Washington, D.C., where the use of marijuana is considered legal for a variety of medical reasons ranging from ALS to terminal cancer.









The use of marijuana has been found by proponents to reduce stress, pain, increase appetite as it decreases nausea, and according to some, increase well being.



Opponents say there are 20 times the carcinogenic properties in the smoke of marijuana vs. cigarette smoke.  They also say it is a gateway to more serious drugs like cocaine, meth, or even heroin.



That being said, many states are in the process of making marijuana legal for medical purposes.  New York is considering not its legality for medical purposes right now, but making the possession of small amounts of marijuana a finable violation vs. a misdemeanor which is a jailable offense.  But that is another subject.



http://www.foxnews.com/us/2012/06/04/ny-gov-cuomo-proposes-reducing-marijuana-penalty/



I heard on the radio that a man was arrested in California for the possession of medical marijuana, where the substance is currently considered legal for medical use.  I was confused, so I looked it up.  Having a recommendation from a physician means you have been approved to USE marijuana for your current medical condition, it does not mean you can't be arrested for the possession, possession for sale, transporting a legal substance, and it would be your responsibility to prove your possession was for medical purposes.



The amount you are allowed to possess varies from state to state, the smallest being one oz. usable product, (Alaska, Montana, Nevada) to 24 oz. usable product (Washington and Oregon).  And 14 of the 17 states  also allow for personal cultivation.



http://medicalmarijuana.procon.org/view.resource.php?resourceID=000881



I don't have a problem with this drug being used medicinally. There are plenty of drugs with side effects and notoriety that are currently in use today that in my opinion, are far more problematic than marijuana.  There is a drug out there now that is used for psoriasis that hinders your immune system--it basically induces an autoimmune state.  Some of the warnings attached to this drug caution the user of the possibility of infections, increases in certain cancers and tuberculosis.  Many pain-killers have an addictive quality and can also cause the patient problems. 



We would never consider taking pain-killers away from the population that needs them, but we cannot seem to agree that it is OK to give marijuana to the sufferers of chemotherapy side effects, intense pressure of glaucoma, certain types of pain, MS, AIDS, HIV, or seizures. Could this because of the stigma attached to it left over from the 60s? 



So, it is safe to say marijuana is legal for certain medical conditions.  In certain places.  Just don't get caught with it driving home from the clinic.

Voodoo, Energy, Positive Thinking--Magic or Fact

I'm sure someone has told you somewhere along the line to "always look on the bright side of life..."









When Monty Python tells me to keep my head up I smile and laugh, when the average person tells me I want to smack them.  Maybe not really smack them, but I certainly develop one of those dark ink-scratch clouds over my head like Charles Schulz drew over Linus's head when Lucy tried to steal his blanket.



But I am pondering whether our states of mind can actually affect our quality of life.  And I also question if a practice like voodoo is merely a self-induced hypnosis where we can harm ourselves by over-thinking something to the point of creating a self-fulfilling prophesy.









There are endless books on positive thinking where we are told how to remove anything bad from our minds and to only focus on the good, happy, and helpful.  The queen of affirmations is probably Louise Hay who has helped endless people with her books, workshops, and recordings. 









http://www.amazon.com/Heal-Your-Life-Gift-Edition/dp/1561706280/ref=pd_sim_b_1



Are affirmations just a form of reverse-voodoo? 



Do we actually have the ability to make things happen with out thoughts?  Some people think we do.  Dr. Keith Scott-Mumbly believes we can help ourselves or harm ourselves by how we think.  He even believes we sometimes accidentally sabotage ourselves with unconscious thought patterns.  Supposedly we develop patterns when we are very young as defense mechanisms and methods of survival.  As we grow and leave the situations that caused us to develop these necessary patterns, we continue to use them though we no longer need them.  Now instead of helping us these patterns hinder us.  Read how we can help ourselves with reprogramming according to Dr. Mumbly:



http://www.alternative-doctor.com/mind_stuff/tools10.html



My personal opinion on the topic stems from a famous quote by Eleanor Roosevelt.  The quote says "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."  Everyone loves this quote.  It is supposed to be empowering--I feel it is dangerous.  I believe it could hurt someone who is truly depressed and needs help they cannot muster from within.  It could make someone feel worse who is stuck in a terrible situation and cannot figure a way out.



While I do believe we should always do our best and assume everything will be OK, I also think we should seek help when needed and NOT feel bad if we can't pull it off ourselves.



Now back to the magic.



If we eat purely healthy food, supposedly our bodies improve.  New skin in 30 days, our liver can regenerate in 6 weeks, and our skeleton is replaced in 3 years by new cells.  So why can't we do the same with our minds.  Could we actually think ourselves into a better situation?  If our thoughts are as pure as organic food can we do magic?



Mystics believe that we can.  A tulpa is "the concept of a being or object which is created through sheer discipline alone. It is a materialized thought that has taken physical form and is usually regarded as synonymous to a thoughtform." 



I have never had the ability to completely change a thought pattern if my emotions are pushing me in the other direction.  I love the idea of true magic, but I am not convinced in one direction or another.  If anyone has a magical story to share--I would LOVE to hear it :)



Please read about tulpas on Day 46 of 100 Unfortunate Days:




Day 46




Anything can be a tulpa. If you think of something long enough, you will make it real. You can make almost anything come true. Stacks of books are written about all the methods of imagery, manifestation and self-fulfilling prophecies—but in reality, all you have to do is think. Nothing tricky or fancy—just think. You’ll do this and you won’t even know it. You will worry about your kid…she’ll be sad at school, she’ll do badly with her new friends. Just keep it up—it will surely happen. Whatever you think about for your kids, whatever you worry about—that is what they will become. Pity them and they will become the kid that should be pitied. You gave them a tulpa. They are their own tulpa because of you. People take things away from us all the time. They call names, they give us wrong directions and they hurt our feelings. We take it from there. No one can ever talk to us as much as we talk to ourselves. “I’m such a witch, I’m such a witch…” One day your husband made you mad and you add something to his food that may upset his stomach just a little bit. “I’m such a witch…” The mole on your face has a hair you never noticed before. “…such a witch…” You no longer feel a communion with God. Somewhere along the line you become the witch. A tulpa is a thought come to life. Mystics in India believe if you can imagine something to the point of knowing it down to its finest detail—eventually you will have a hard time knowing if it is your imagination or not. Then this spirit/idea takes on shape and energy and it becomes real. So real that you can no longer get rid of it. So real that it can become a part of you and have the ability to change your life.

Horror--Pick Your Pleasure

I am lucky enough to be in a group called TESSpecFic, a group of speculative writers, and we are the writer's of weird.  We are also the writer's of horror, dark fantasy, and many other genres.



Our leader and group creator, Marie Loughlin, suggested we tackle the question, what is horror, and how does it differ from dark fantasy?



Oh, the delicious idea of horror, and oh, the dark and twisted and avenues we can meander down.  There are many categories and subtle sub-categories of horror to explore--but I am going to reduce them to two. 



For some, horror is very direct, shocking, and gory: 



A group of unsuspecting and vulnerable teens is chainsawed, hung on meat hooks and destroyed...



Kidnapped victims are forced to run through razor wire, remove their own eyes, or cut off their limbs...





Travelers are sadistically tortured, an important organ is cut from a man and fed to a dog, and blood and pieces of flesh fly with wild abandon...



If there are no blood and guts, some do not consider it to be "true" horror.  The fluff and psychological inferences do not fly as anything but boring.  This faction of people likes nothing left to the imagination.  They live for the cringe factor--the more in-your-face, the better.  Zombies eating intestines, werewolves ripping throats, serial killers dismembering, and psychopaths torturing fit neatly into this category. 



For others, horror is a subtle and divine head-trip.  Not always as direct, and sometimes teetering on the verge of another category, this horror can be reminiscent of those fuzzy-vague nights of our teens...exciting, thrilling, heart-pumping, yearning, and sometimes terrifying.





A disembodied voice warns of terrible future events...



A dismantling of reality is slowly replaced with a growing realization of madness...



A boy commits suicide by shooting himself in the head, and his surviving brother is given the horrible weapon as a birthday present by his parents...



When something is seductive and beautiful, we cannot help but look at it.  When that something is slowly torn down, ruined, changed, and broken--we are riveted.  When our inner voices morph and we question what is sane and what is madness, we ponder our own sanity, and we need to know more.  When we watch a villain suffer and we feel a tingle of joy, we question our morals and we question our decency.



Whether you like subtle or in your face horror the need and satisfaction is all the same--we experience things we could never experience otherwise, revenge, murder, suicide, torture, sadism, masochism, cannibalism and a host of other treats from the safety of a theater, our living room couch, or our favorite chair as we read a book in the dark.



Fantasy is a category of writing where medieval myths and concepts are the main focus.  I think it could be easy for a dark fantasy book to cross the line into the horror-zone simply because of the direction of the story.  For instance, a queen kidnapped and tortured in a very Hostel-like environment would still, in my opinion, be considered dark fantasy and not horror because of the medieval premise. 



But I am also a believer in sub-sub-sub categories that cannot be found on Amazon.



For example, where does possession fit?  Is it horror?  A memoir?  Occult?



So dark fantasy should have more branches below it on the flow chart.  Horror fantasy, black comedy, dark memoirs, and non-fiction occult are a few categories I would love to see added to our genre choices.



I also think that all genres can bleed into almost any other genre, no pun intended--and I don't want to take the magic out of the topic by dissecting (sorry) it too much.



Please visit the other members of TESSpecFic and read their views of horror.





Marie Loughin


Genre Confusion: Just what the heck is “Horror,” anyway, and how is it different from Dark Fantasy?

Jaye Manus


What is Horror? The answer is in the question

Paul D. Dail


Potential Perils of the Horror label…or…The Difficulties of Defining a Genre

Kim Koning


Shivers Down My Spine

Aniko Carmean


All Around the Table, What is Horror?



Thanks Marie!

     

Delicious Revenge

Do you recall the last time someone did you wrong?



If it was a minor infraction, you were probably mad for a bit and then let it go.



If it was a bit more serious you probably had to say something, or possibly even felt like yelling a screaming a bit.  The more volatile of us may even punch something.



But if someone did something terrible to you or someone you love, or you were to witness atrocities of the innocent, chances are you would want revenge.  Not giving the evil-doer a good talking to or helping them get on the right track, most likely you would want to see them suffer.Or at least hear something relatively wicked happened to them.



We hate the endings of books or movies that leave us hanging, especially if the bad guy does not get his due.



Oh the lovely feeling of satisfaction when a cheating husband is caught, and it is even more lovely if he is caught by not only the wife, but a film crew, and his other girlfriend.  Same with a cheating wife.  Or one of those vile people who neglect or abuse their animals.  Of course we love to see the animal saved and in the arms of a new and loving owner, but it's so much better when they hunt down the abuser and he has to pay.  I think one of the reasons reality television is gaining popularity is we get to experience the satisfaction of the bad guys going down.



It does not mean we are awful to love the thought of revenge. In fact according to the following article it is unusual for a person to NOT feel vengeful when they are wronged--it is probably a sign they are repressing true feelings.



http://abcnews.go.com/2020/story?id=2831618&page=1



I do not think I could personally injure someone who has done me wrong, but I have never been pushed to my limits. I've attached a link to my short story Absorbed that is listed as free for the next week on Smashwords.  It is a dark and twisted tale of a love gone very wrong, with a few tricks.



Hope you like it.  :)



https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/96160

Tebow, Football and Sports in General--Help Me Get It!

Easter has come and gone, and I don't think I remember a bigger deal on Easter than Tim Tebow speaking at a church in Texas and drawing a crowd of approximately 15,000 people.



Tim Tebow seems like a nice guy and he certainly has received plenty of attention from his prayer pose.  But did people go to hear him speak or see their favorite football player?



I grew up an artist.  Painting, writing, drawing, singing, dancing--anything.  I was never one to be very into sports.  I had a boyfriends who was the captain of the lacrosse team in high school, but I cannot remember ever going to one of the games.  I grudgingly played tennis with my family on weekends, but would have prefered to do practically anything else.  I remember I loved playing wiffle ball on our front lawn as a kid with all the neighbors, but it was nothing serious.



I've been to football games, baseball games, basketball games, hockey games and the U.S Open.  Although I've enjoyed parts of each game, I can honestly say I was bored through most of them. 



I liked Cooperstown and the Baseball Hall of Fame--but I did not have to sit in the freezing cold for four hours or fight the crowds when the day was over.



So help me here--what is it?



What is it that makes people spend thousands of dollars for season tickets? 



Why do people spend hours to get to see Tim Tebow speak at a church on Easter Sunday?



I feel left out.  I envy everyone jumping up and down for the team they love.  But I don't feel it--but I want to.



I saw my first Yankee game when I was in the sixth grade.  I took a bus with all the other crossing guards from school--this was our special day, our reward for keeping everyone safe and working so hard.  And I LOVED that day.  It was sunny and beautiful and we ate hot dogs and yelled that the Red Sox needed washing.  I could not see a thing--we were up in the very last row.  Behind us was a window with a metal grate over it.  The wind was whipping and we could not hear a thing either.  But I got to know some new kids, and I liked that part A LOT.  So I became a Yankee fan--kinda.  I could high-five other Yankee fans in the hall now.  (I was not super-popular--so this was AWESOME!)



So I will still go to a game because I can remember that wonderful Yankee game day feeling in sixth grade.



If anybody can tell me what they love about sports I would really like to know.  I am looking forward to that high-five feeling again :) 

The Dark

I just read Charity Parkerson's twitter post that said:



"Evil lives in the dark--we instinctively know this as children." 



And it struck a chord with me.



I remember being terrified to go into the basement because it was dark. And later because my sister would bribe me like Lucy would Charlie Brown. She would ask me to get her a toy from the basement because she was too "little" and look at me with the biggest brown puppy-dog eyes you have EVER seen--and I fell for it every time.  So I would get to the bottom step, and she would shut off the light, slam the door, and run.



I was afraid to sleep without the hall light on--I still leave the lights and television on when my husband is away.



Everything is much scarier in the dark.  I cannot remember a horror movie where the really terrifying stuff happens during the day.



30 Days of Night is a movie about the town of Barrow, Alaska, that is plunged into a vampire filled 30 days where the sun never rises.  We all know they can only get you after the sun goes down...



Werewolves only 'turn' during the full moon--at night. 



My grandmother would say "there is nothing in the dark that isn't there in the light."  Oh, but Grandma--we can't see what waits for us when the lights are down.



We are told we will see a golden light when we die, leading us to the promise land.



This Little Light of Mine is shining and surely showing our good side.



Saying someone is all 'goodness and light' is self-explanatory.



A book I read about Feng Shui and "clearings" said that spirits live in the dark and the clutter.  The dim areas in our home that collect piles of stuff also harbor ghosts and evil.  We feel uncomfortable there not only because of the mess, but because darker and more base entities have come to roost. There is no motion--and no light.

Read about it here:



http://www.amazon.com/Creating-Sacred-Space-With-Feng/dp/0553069160/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1332779809&sr=1-2



I can't say if these things are true--but I think Charity Parkerson is right.  We DO feel things when we are children and running up the cellar stairs for dear life because we know something growling and dark is nipping at our heels.  But we grow out of these things--we are rational now and we learn to fight these feelings.



Maybe we should listen to our instincts a bit more.  Maybe our inner voice is right--the dark is scary.






Day 57 of 100 Unfortunate Days




Every single basement has a dark corner or room no one likes. Maybe the whole basement is dark and scary. Spirits collect in dark and cluttered spaces. They hide and wait for you because they are stuck. Some people can see them. Some people see the long, thin, black, wispy figures with arms ten feet long that unfold as they slowly reach for you in the dark because you have to go down there to get something or fix a light bulb or retrieve a screwdriver.




Part of you revs up and moves really quickly to get out of there because you know if you wait long enough and the arms fully unfold, they can touch you and then part of you belongs in the black corner in the basement. Then it will be very hard to be normal again. You will wake up in the middle of the night, and you won't be able to get back to sleep because you will worry about all the things you have done wrong and how you are hurting people.




You can't get this out of your mind now and you think that maybe if you count and envision each number in your head as you say it in your mind; you can block some of the bad thoughts. Or maybe you can pray—say the Lord's Prayer over and over and over and God will surely be there to help you because you are saying his prayer. But it doesn't help.




God doesn't give a fuck when you are miserable—he doesn't care if you pray. You can pray until there is blood dripping out of your mouth and nothing will change. God is an asshole that way. Even a relatively rotten person will assist you if you are begging for help, but your thoughts will just revolve through your mind over and over until you want to take a gun like the lead in Fight Club and shoot them out of your head. Maybe someday you will, but for now, you are trying to figure why God is such a jerk-off and you have to live like this.




You wonder why you feel forsaken—well it's probably because you have been forsaken and you don't know how to live in that state. Because when you are a kid somebody probably told you everything would be all right, and now you realize they lied. So you keep lying to yourself, telling yourself it's not such a big deal, but actually it is, because now the dark corners in your basement have started to get darker. And bigger. The arms get longer and longer and pretty soon there won't be anywhere you can go where they can't touch you. So you start to drink or take pills or do some other kind of drug so you can't tell when you get touched. Now the problem is you get touched all the time, but you don't know it. At least now you don't care.

Puppy Love

I have like animals since I was a very young girl.



I loved the idea of having a pet..a bird to sit on my shoulder like a pirate, a puppy to wag his tail when I came home, or a kitten to pet and stroke as it purrs. 



But my parents never agreed to these pets.  We ended up with endless fish (not interactive), and two gerbils (they bit and smelled very bad).



When I got married my new husband and I wanted a puppy.  I liked small balls of fluff and he wanted a manly dog to take on long hikes in the Watchung Hills and look respectable on walks.



We looked at Huskies, Labs, Chihuahuas, and plenty of others.  As puppies they are all adorable and troublesome, and we ended up with a yellow Lab we named Molly.  I knew instantly this was NOT the dog for me.  She was not cuddly, wanted to wrestle constantly, and I had to clean up after her every time the doorbell rang because she got so excited.  She loved everyone and she was the perfect companion for my husband and son.



And she was a good dog--we just never clicked.



My son wanted a Sheltie after we lost Molly.  I did not know who had the sadder eyes, my son, or the Sheltie--and Penny the Sheltie became our next dog. 



She's soooo smart.  She understands endless commands and will chase a ball or the sound of sirens if we tell her "go get it!"  She has a beautiful coat and is perfectly trained.



Then I met a tiny Chihuahua named Valentine. 



She is sassy, nippy, cuddly, and practically untrainable.  And for whatever reason I am in love with her.  She does practically nothing "right" according to puppy training books, has ears bigger than her head, and I am happier since I brought her home.



So I want you to know that all dogs are NOT the same.  You should pick the dog or pet that tickles you, the one that makes you smile, the ugly misfit at the pound you cannot leave behind because she pulls on your heart strings. 



You only live once.  Don't get a fashionable pet, or one someone else thinks is great--get the one you love.  :)

Expose Yourself

Writing a book that had elements of me and my personality was nerve-wracking.



I had no problem doing the writing--but when it came to pushing the actual publish button I felt like I was standing on Madison Avenue naked.  I had second thoughts and regrets, felt exposed yet exhiliarted, and the book was not even available to anyone yet.



But there was a stronger need to get the book out than to let the fear win.  It was not an autobiography and I had to remind myself it was NOT a diary--but a study of a dark personality. 



The writing was cathartic and unnerving.  It dug up corpses I thought would surely remain buried.  I had to deal with emotions I almost forgot I had--and then live with them.



Weeks and weeks passed and I realized I could no longer pretend the emotions and situations the book revealed were just a side effect of writing a novella.  So I faced them.  Friends had to deal with my sudden changes in mood.  My blog had become a dumping ground for every angry thought and question I ever had. I am not even going to mention what my poor family had to go through.  (But thanks if any of you are reading this--friends too.)  I also realized who my real friends are--are who are not.  And I made some great new ones while meandering this unexpected path.  :)



Yikes.



After three days of shock, depression, and a dawning of what I was doing wrong and silly in my life--I faced my demons.  Holy #$%.  This was better than psychological rehab.  I'm not saying I am normal and perfect now and I will never do anything wrong again as long as I live--but I am saying that writing that book (100 Unfortunate Days) allowed me to clear the bats from my belfry.



Oh, there are so many cliches, quotes, and sayings running through my head now:



It's always darkest before the dawn.



You must do the thing you fear the most.



Honest is the best policy.



Just do it.



They all apply--and there are more but I will stop here.



So I guess what I am trying to say is expose yourself.  Let the real you out.  Let it scare the hell out of you and tear everything up in its path.  And when you come out on the other end get ready--you will feel like Rip Van Winkle waking up after his 100 year sleep :)



(The image at the top right is the potential new cover for 100 Unfortunate Days--what do you think?)