Julia Benally's Blog, page 12

We were not made to lose

Recent events have sucked and people aren't making sense. It's gotten others depressed and many don't know what the future will bring or how things will ever be normal again.
Many lived quiet, little lives before all this. They complained about it. They started taking stupid selfies while they were driving on the road, and then said they were living life on the edge. Now that they are on the edge, they're wishing to go back to normal. I supposed back to the selfies, too, and dreaming for something more exciting.
Let me tell you something, in the words of JRR Tolkien: Not all adventures are sunshine and pony rides. And we are on an adventure. This is a historical moment in time. Record it for your posterity. We are on a journey to The Lonely Mountain to battle a dragon. Gear up. We are all warriors and were not made to lose. For those who have died, their spirits live on in glory.

Death is only a doorway.

Why I left Twitter. Now I'm free!

Twitter. Yuck. Bleah. The place has become a toxic mire.
In 2012, I joined Twitter, because I was told it was a good place to promote myself. I gained over 10,000 followers and was heading for 11,000. The rules when I signed up said, "Always be kind and courteous." So I was.
In the last few years, there have been droves of people being absolute trolls, jerks, and taking offense at every tiny thing, to the point that everyone had to mince their words. Twitter didn't kick these scumbags off.
I began to realize that after every session on Twitter, I came off upset and frustrated.
There is a writing community there who lauds itself as extremely supportive. It's filled with self-proclaimed authors who laugh at procrastinating their writing. They have memes stating, "If you're a writer, you're on Twitter right now and thinking you should be writing." Another one was, "If you SAY you're a writer, then you're a writer." Most were not doing what it took to be a writer. These were also giving writing advice.

I've seen people upset over something, only to get attacked for no reason at all, save the attacker wanted to seem intelligent. There are long threads where people do nothing but fight. The only safe thing to do is talk about whether you like this kind of chicken or that, hate or love ice cream, go on long, pointless conversations about olives. If you're tagged in one of these asinine conversations and don't catch it right away, your notifications skyrocket and you can't find what's important.
If you do catch it, chances are, you're a slave to Twitter when you could be doing what matters, like writing, reading, spending time with your kid, and any other number of real things.

Twitter is supposed to be a platform for authors to promote their work, and yet those who do get branded. Some rats go so far as to tag the authors in a thread, telling everyone not to follow them because they promote their books. Who else will do it if not the author? Now they have a shameless self promo day that's extended into other days of the week. Nobody is selling anything. Some authors sell nothing for months.
They say, "Buy each other's books. If you buy someone's book, they will buy yours. Swap reviews."
This is not good in the least. This means you buy a ton of books, most of which will be truly crap, and you're obligated to give a five-star review for something you hate. Plus, you make none of that spent money up in royalties.

You end up knowing the author, which is bad, because if you happen upon a rat, this person has the potential to revenge review you. This means pinning a one-star review on your book because they're angry. What's worse is if the author is your friend and you don't like their book. What then? I've seen authors bemoaning what to do when this happens.
Now there are large groups of authors demanding five stars for everything they write, whether or not the work deserves it. They say, "If you're an author, you know how hard it is to write a book, so you should give everyone five stars." I've seen some crap books that look like rough drafts written in two weeks. Tons of five stars. They're Indie books, which means there were review swaps and these authors know each other.
It's a sickening cycle and if you get caught, you're trapped. I was trapped. I had to endure one stupid comment after another, wishing I could go back to what my Twitter used to be when I had 100 followers. My feed was full of beautiful pictures and lovely quotes. I fell into the world of numbers and "a follow for a follow" and "build your platform!" A platform of non-readers who will only buy your book if you buy theirs, and then never read it. Maybe they donate it to Goodwill. I can count on my fingers how many friends I made there.

Some of my friends started leaving Twitter and I felt left behind inside a chaotic cage without a door, and walls painted to look like I was outside. Some writers announced they were going to quit writing because they didn't see results and Twitter was mean. They didn't want to deal with that mess anymore.
The day I quit was the day I nearly got into an argument with a troll who've I've seen trolling other people. Maybe I should have blocked this person when I had the chance, but I think it was good I didn't. The person ended up being my Gollum. I'd already been attacked, I'd seen so much stupid it was driving me up the wall, and I was on the verge of snapping. I've never argued on Twitter, but I was ready to claw this wretch up.

I responded the first time, and I know Gollum responded to me, probably with some political garbage that had nothing to do with anything, but I didn't open the notification. I realized I was falling deeper down the Twitter hole. I was thinking dark things only a furious Apache could think, and knew this was wrong. My God didn't want me thinking these things, or feeling these things. What's more, Twitter is stupid. Why should I let some virtual reality that can go down any time ruin my entire life?
Instead of clicking on the notification, I went straight into settings and deactivated my account on the spot. As soon as it closed, the fury and anger got sucked away. I'd found the hidden door to the cage. I got out and I'm free.

A change of cover and a change of title

I've been gone for a while, because I went to Amazon Ad School hosted by Bryan Cohen. He taught me how to do ads and scale them, turn out marvelous blurbs and create hooks. I know what a conversion rate is and how to find it. If you heard thunder in the distance back in April, it was my mind exploding.
That said, I have made a discovery that I would not have otherwise made. My cover and my blurb needed help. So I may put a hold on "Embers" until I can fix the issues with "Pariahs." I may even change the title. The cover itself is going to a mega professional and I'm fixing the blurb. In fact, I've been doing that all day.
The original cover will still be up, with its confusing description, until its makeover is complete. The whole process is freaking me out, but it's got to be done. After that, I feel I'll be standing on a new threshold, and "Pariahs" will definitely be on another level. "Embers" will meet it there when its turn comes.
And now for an announcement, book 3 is in its plotting stage!
All you readers out there, stay safe!

Podcast!

Last week, I got one of the most awesome e-mails of the year. Alex Schiffer from the Sonic Dawn podcast told me he had read my story "Offering" in The Horror Zine and loved it so much that he wanted to read it in his podcast.

Know what this means for you? It means you get to listen to "Offering," equipped with some seriously good sound effects and superb reading.

Come on over and listen to it right here. Episode 12.

And while you're at it, listen to the other stories!

Me and My Dogs

"Embers" is due out this year, not sure when, but start checking back for updates around July! It would be great if it could appear on July 4th, because that was when I was supposed to be born. Instead, I was born on July 1st, because the night before, my mom hit a dog on the road. She freaked out so bad that she went into labor. So, people, a dog gave its life so I could be born on July 1st. Maybe that's why dogs gyrate towards me.

I went to visit my friend, who owns one of those annoying rat dogs. It raced into the room, jumped on my knee, and started barking at everybody, even at its owner.
I used to visit another lady, who's now dead, and her dog always hopped in my lap and went to sleep. It snapped at everybody else.

Someone had a whole theater inside his basement, so me and a bunch of other people went there to see "The Watcher In The Woods." I'd never seen it before. The guy owned a big, beautiful Golden Retriever. Everybody ran to pet it and wanted it to sit by them. I took a bean bag at the front of the room to watch. Next thing I know, the dog was watching the show with me.
I had to baby-sit a couple of nuts who had just gotten a new dog. The little thing followed me all over the place and stayed in my lap when I sat down.

Nobody could understand it, and I can't either. I've never been able to own a dog, so maybe the dogs all knew it? I've always wanted a British Bulldog, because they look so funny, until a woman said they leave their snot all over the place. I'm not about throwing up every day.
Anyway, get ready for the exciting sequel to "Pariahs," making its debut this year. Its in the final stages! I love it, so you should, too! Yes? No? Maybe so?

How I Keep Writing In Hard Times

2019 was pretty awful in many ways. Three of my family members nearly died, and this year there's Covid-19, and everything that goes along with it. Writers have been saying they can't sit down and write, even when they have nothing else to do but write.
A friend of mine had congratulated me on continuing to write when most people would have quit under such circumstances. I told her it was writing that kept me going. This being said, I left out something very important. It is the One who gave me writing which keeps me going. It is He who gifts me with my muse so I can cope.
My own muse turned off last week during my free promotion campaign for "Pariahs." This weekend, I watched General Conference for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. The Spirit was powerful, beautiful and comforting. The whole world sang and I could feel it. The blocks in my mind lifted and a thousand ideas and solutions flowed into my brain.
It is my Heavenly Father who keeps me going. He has ways to keep me going. When I'm stuck, He answers me when I cry for help. My writing is linked to Him and I could not do it without Him. I would be remiss for not acknowledging it.
I write horror a lot, which may seem bizarre after what I've just written. Nothing can escape a horror writer. We can write about the worst things and there is no line. Many people don't like to read horror, and sometimes I'm one of them. Lots of times, I read and watch for study.
Because of my God, I pay close attention to where I draw the line, what needs softening, what needs careful handling. You won't find cuss words in my stories, or sex scenes. Anything like that occurs off-screen where it belongs. I don't glorify the evil, but show it being conquered. My writing is to make the reader forget their troubles, not to leave them feeling like they're living in a funeral parlor.
I can't write if I'm not happy, but Heavenly Father lifts me up and makes me truly happy.
Wherever you are, I invite you to fall on your knees and pour your heart out to Him, and then wait patiently for His answers.

Fun things to do while you're stuck in the house

You've been in the house too long, and if you're about to go mad like Heath Ledger while he was preparing to be the Joker in The Dark Knight, then you need some serious help before you start asking people how you got those scars.
In the daily grind, many people had no time for exercise, and they grew too squishy. Well, now's your chance to start looking fine again.
https://www.youtube.com/user/TiffanyRotheWorkouts: This lovely lady is the happiest workout lady I ever did see. She gives pep talks in the middle of the workouts and her energy just pops from the screen. What's best is that these workouts are free and there are hundreds of them. She works that nasty back, too, and does standing ab workouts.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0XBicA9rBpE: all the Windsor Pilates workouts have been downloaded onto YouTube.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wtn9KJSaoiQ: all the Tai Bo workouts have been downloaded.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vTJHUDB5ak: Yoga is all over the place in YouTube. I like this one because it helps when I have a stiff neck and shoulders.
Aside from these, you can also take VR tours of castles and museums. The one I like best is Waddesdon Manor.  https://waddesdon.org.uk/the-collection/virtual-tours/
A good scare now and then is the best. If you need something to really scream at, check these out.
Nun Massacre: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zSQx1x2jV0I
Night Shift: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Np7T9m1g9Ug
Northbury Grove: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=egQd-_nTvSM
The Nun Experience: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=scmCoKYcw4w
Home Sweet Home: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=40xKu6lmRvs
Home Sweet Home 2: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ORIuG5g634
The Conjuring House: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dKkpiY4iahM&t=21s
The Beast Inside: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PMUd93Ul2eA
Some of these have been turned into series by the gamers, so you can watch an episode a night.
Also, hospitals have been asking for home made face masks and they have tutorials online on what to do. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8O88qNImD8M
Of course, after watching some of them, I was like, would the hospitals take a bandanna from me to tie around their faces like the train robbers in the Old West?
Have a good day, everybody!

PS, starting March 31, "Pariahs" will be free on kindle until Friday.

"Offering" is live! And, the story behind it.

"Offering" is now live over at The Horror Zine! Come read it here.


"Offering" started out as a flash fiction, because I got recommended to try for being a "Pen of the Damned" writer. They were going to send me a picture for which I'd write a flash piece. Then they'd make their decision.
Guess what, I got a picture of a bridge, a happy bridge, too. Not the one above, though. My problem was that I loved bridges. They're the most wonderful things in the world. Now I was supposed to pen something horrible in an area I had zero experience in: flash fiction.
I tried my best, and of course they told me to get lost, leaving me with the beginnings of a new story. "Offering" sat in my computer like a sad castaway, rejected, dismissed and written off by the whole world.
I began writing, jumping off the original idea and marrying it with another idea I had. The story slowly fleshed out until the disconnected pieces knit together like wounded flesh


"Offering" juggles two loosely related threats that never meet. It was a little nuts, but I loved it. Hopefully, an editor would, too.
Turned out one did. She said she'd take it if I added in a chase scene or two. I love chase scenes and wondered at myself for not incorporating one. Maybe I thought something which focused more on atmosphere would work?

It taught me a lesson I'd forgotten amidst a tumult of rejection letters. Curtailing my creativity to match a magazine's wants is not creative and will kill my love for writing.

So I added the chases and my "Offering" was accepted.

Dates Gone Wrong #2: Country Dancing

I lived in an apartment with three other girls. My friend and I lived in the two back rooms. The others were friends and lived in the front rooms.
One day, my roommate asked us, "Who wants to go country dancing?"
My roommate's friend didn't volunteer, and it should have been a red flag, but I wanted to try something new. I'd never been country dancing in my life. Maybe I would like it better? Maybe there wouldn't be guys galloping in circles around the dance floor with their arms tucked into their chests like rabbits.
I dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. No country western style at all, but my roommate said it was okay. We headed to the parking garage, but my roommate bypassed the door. She said a friend of hers was coming, too. I was like, "Okay." Why not be more social and meet new people? I might like it. We headed to another apartment and she knocked on the door. A guy came out. Now I thought, "I guess I'm a weird tag-a-along?" She asked him if he had brought his friend. He looked me up and down, and said yes. He pulled out the saddest looking dude I ever did see. Was this an ambush double date?
They dragged me and this calf-to-the-slaughter, and threw us in the back seat of a car. The guy, my date, whatever he was, stared at me for a few seconds before rolling into a ball in a corner. He stared at his knees while my roommate introduced us to one another. She said we had better be good back there, and cackled like we'd actually make out. I waved at him, but I think he was studiously chewing his tongue off. I was trapped in the backseat with a loser, on my way to an unknown, unfamiliar destination out in the middle of nowhere.
We reached some dive of a gym somewhere in the dark and I had to pay five bucks to get in. Nobody told me it was five bucks! And I had to sign my phone up to receive texts from them or they wouldn't let me in.
For some reason, we were so early they hadn't even started the dance yet. All the lights were on. People stared at me like I was some sort of undiscovered specimen. Everybody but me was dressed in country western apparel. Ever have a day when you begin to realize your roommate is a spawn of the devil?
My roommate and her date ushered me and the calf to a line of people learning a line dance. Then they ran off somewhere. I looked at my date and he trembled at me, and then he ran, yes, RAN, into the bathroom. He never came out.
My roommate returned half an hour later and asked where he was.
"He's been in the bathroom for the last thirty minutes," I said.
"Doing what?"
"I don't know. Jacking off. Taking a dump. He never came back."
She marched into the men's bathroom and dragged him out by the arm. She forced us into the line dance and left us again. Why did I do these things to myself? I could have been at home, watching stupid videos like a dork.
We were supposed to learn how to do dips. It looked so elegant and cool how the teacher did it. Low and behold, the calf got bold. He offered to dip me, and promptly dropped me on the floor. He turned so red I thought he would retreat to the bathroom. But he didn't. It was no longer a safe haven if my roommate could breach the safety of its nasty, little borders.
Instead, he made his escape when the lights dimmed. I blinked my eyes and he'd vanished like a troll among the trees. I was left to find my own dance partner in the midst of endless couples on their weekend dates. I found one, despite the calf and being dropped in front of dozens of people. He was much cuter than the calf. For one thing, he was taller than me. My roommate was quite shocked that I was dancing with someone. Just as I began enjoying myself, my roommate said we had to go home.
After they hunted for the calf, I was tossed back into the car with it. I was so glad to be going home, but they didn't go home. They wanted to stop for ice cream first. Nobody had said anything about ice cream. I didn't want ice cream. The stuff made me sick. And I certainly didn't want to share it with a calf who spent its dates alone in bathrooms.
"I used up all my money getting into the dance," I cried. "Drop me at the apartment and you can go without me."
My roommate laughed and said the calf was going to pay for me. The calf never offered. She offered for it. I was horrified. I stared at the shivering bovine as it nodded with limp mouth. My roommate then demanded why we weren't talking and insisted that the calf speak to me. She had no idea one cannot hold a conversation with a calf.
Could I throw myself out of the moving vehicle? Hopefully they wouldn't stop somewhere for romantic shenanigans. People never ate ice cream so slow! The date finally ended near midnight and I fled to my room. I never jumped for one of my roommate's scheming invitations again, especially if it involved baby bovines.

Be sure to check out my book here!

Dates Gone Wrong #1: Ice Skating

Wherever you are, especially in quarantine, I hope this makes you grin.
I haven't dated much in my life, but when I have gone on dates, they have been funky, or something stupid happened. Most of the time, I didn't know I was on a date.
One day, I went ice skating. Of course, I can't ice skate. I can't skate either. It didn't matter how much I practiced, how much I tried, or how many times I fell on my tail bone. It was death. Like an imbecile, I always wanted to try ice skating.
One day, I got my chance. Guess what, I went BOOYAH! Slid across the ice on my stomach, sat down, got stranded on the other side of the ice rink, crawled on all fours to the exit, hurt my ankles, the works.
Finally, one of the guys in our hang out group date took pity on my sorry hide and tried to teach me. He took my hands and skated backwards, while I used him as a "walker" like the old people do. I think I looked like one, too. It should have been romantic, right? But of course, I slipped. While I was trying to get up, my pants fell off.