Here’s a hint: they are not a writer’s friend. Walk into any Barnes & Noble and this might seem counter-intuitive given their very existence rests upon the backs of tens of thousands of writers – past, present, and future – whose works line the shelves of every store. As a company, Barnes and Noble does all in its power to cultivate a strong consumer/membership base. You can’t check out of the store without being quizzed about membership status. The recent trend is for staff to hawk a Barnes and Noble MasterCard as a means to build customer loyalty (the carrying cost of credit notwithstanding as compared to the free $25 gift card and 5% cash back). Their overall approach is to offer discounts (from 10% to 40%) off the retail price of books through risk-free acquisition of titles and demanding deep wholesale discounts from publishers in order to give it…
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Random thoughts as I travel to the store.
That willow is so lovely. How many stories hang within?
Hope my neighbor gets better. Her cough is scary.
Such a pretty red bird. Wonder what it is called?
Someone really needs to cut the grass. Lovely little creatures might be hiding within.
Really need to finish the last page of the princess lost. Just so busy today.
What should I make for dinner? Really not hungry.
I miss my best friend.
Small towns are fun…to visit. I want to live in the middle of nowhere.
I want to go to college, but I wonder for what. No longer interested in computer programming. And taking a course in creative writing scares me badly. I fear I will find out how bad my writing is.
The older I get the less I like people. Is hermit an option?
I need milk. Good grief, i made a list, quit worrying about forgetting to get things.
Many of my friends suffer depression, and I am not untouched by it. Although when asked if I have ever been suicidal, well only once. When I was given medicine for the depression as a teen, the medicine made me want death. For me, i see it different usually. I have heard other survivors say it, and truth is really so much more than the words say. I don’t want to die, however on my darkest days, I do wish I had never been born. Days where the pain feels more than I am able to bear, when the nightmares are stronger than the dreams. Those are the days where I have to recount all i have done. Those are the days when my blessings must be noted. And those are the days when kindness is most needed, and when I am at my least kind.
Kim Bailey Deal addresses suicide from several angles, with the bottom line being–YOU MATTER.
Please read and share.
I generally try not to rant, or be opinionated here. However, some opinions just eat at you, until they are released. I have been in a big truck a few times, as a passenger. I have seen how truly amazing this country is. I have also seen the worst in people. I will only speak of one issue right now. Parking. Big trucks can be up to seventy feet in length. And are limited to how long the can be operated by law.
That being said, I can’t tell you how common it is to see a pickup truck in a big truck spot in rest areas or travel plazas. The frequency is astonishing. Add to that the fact that there are more trucks on the road than possible parking spots and you have a very frustrating situation for our nation’s drivers.
1. DON’T PAD YOUR PROSE WITH EMPTY FILLER WORDS (Or: Avoid Using Grammar Expletives) Grammar expletives are literary constructions that begin with the words it, here, or therefollowed by a form of …
Soon we two will be between the same walls
Your voice, your scent, the truth in your eyes
Will now forever be a part of me
Despite my adrenalin faintly permeating
The fresh onslaught of oxygen
Pumping at its utmost
I expect to be imperceptible
As I move into your space
Your restless eyes
Passing me by
Hesitating for a blink
As a preternatural twinge
Arises from your brain
Warning you an observer
Is in the area
But like all moderns
You ignore that extra sense
Continuing on, walking by
As my looping mind
In a world where plainness is maligned
© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Beauty is only skin deep by chemicalrachel-xd.deviantart.com
I am not really good at people, and the interworkings of being a good friend or significant other. Mostly because I speak my mind and am damaged from abuse in my past. So speaking my mind means that what I say doesn’t often make sense to others. Add to this those days when I am in pain, or have insomnia, or even just am deeply into my own world and forget to socialize on occasion.
How I have managed to be so richly blessed in my friends and loved ones, I am not sure. Still, I treasure those who are close to me. And I am not the sort to hold a grudge, mostly. So it sometimes surprises me how angry people can get. And how vindictive they can become.
Relationships take work. All of them. Even family and friends, if you want a good solid relationship, you need to be willing to compromise. On both sides. This is much of why I am bad at people. I have a hatd time with compromise. I can’t afford to compromise because I have been forged by others lack of compromise. I do not ask much. I take care of my daughter, and of my best friend. I try to be there for my closest friends and family.
Now that being said, I am surprised tonight. A little over a year ago I had a friend pull away, for a reason that made no sense. So I accepted that I had lost a friend, and as I always do, I picked up and moved on. Tonight she messaged me with an apology, and an explanation. It eased my mind to finally understand. It also got me considering what goes into friendship. How often have I unwittingly hurt the ones around me because I was unable to explain? I found myself sad that I really couldn’t answer. So many people I have perhaps hurt. I apologize for those I have not intended to hurt. Sometimes the explanation is another form of compromise. Which is one of my flaws, for sure.