General Writing

Are Selfies Self-Love Or Pure Narcissism?

February 10, 2015 by scarletdarkwood Leave a Comment

(Photo: courtesy of Pixabay)

Careful! Don’t be flaunting all you got, dancing on the bar of some hip saloon. Someone might be watching you–and snapping a pic for their social medial wall. But what do tons of photos of yourself mean to others? What if you don’t have any of yourself?

With cameras on practically every cell phone, computer, and tablet, people are snapping pics like crazy these days, and many of them are of themselves. There seems to be two camps of thought on this. Some people allude to selfies as a means of exploring and loving yourself, while others suggest taking tons of selfies show a more sinister side to the human psyche: Addiction, and worse yet, Narcissim. But the worst of the worst, mental illness! Of course, addictions and narcissism fall under the categories of mental health diagnoses.

Some observations have been that selfie obsession, the urge to get that “perfect” selfie has led to depression and sometimes suicide. Many people, on the other hand, simply want to update their friends on what’s going on in their day or show off how they look in a new outfit. Others say it makes them feel good about themselves. For me, if you’re a good friend of mine, or I have a personal connection to you in some way, I might not mind seeing a good photo every now and then. I’ll even look through your photos just to get an idea of what you’re like and what interests you have.

Do I believe all people who take selfies are mentally ill? I’ll say this, people who stay clear of selfies also can be mentally ill. As for me, I’m not sticking my toe into the mentally ill camp, but I personally believe people who are obsessed with selfies fall into the category of loving themselves perhaps way too much. That’s my observation, and I’m sticking with it. I mean, why the need to snap pictures of yourself all the time and post for everyone to see? I still can’t fathom that.

And what’s really interesting is how people become angry and offended when questioned about it. Truthfully, taking photos of yourself is not illegal, and yes, you are more than entitled to do so. But I find it odd someone would become outraged and offended when someone calls them on taking selfies. Why? Did someone’s nasty comment hit a chord? Does the bear with it’s foot in the trap holler the loudest? Or is it really that it’s no one’s business how many photos you take of yourself? My take on it: It’s really no one’s concern. My request, however, is that you don’t force me to look at your cell phone so you can show me pics. The rest, I can simply avoid by not looking at your photos page or posts on social media.

Want to take a pic of you and your boyfriend on vacation? Sure! Most people do that. Want to take a photo of you and your BFF on a girls only trip to Vegas? Go for it! But remember, “What Happens In Vegas Stays In Vegas,” until you post that pic on social media.

What are your thoughts on selfies? Why do you take them? Do you think you take too many sometimes? Not enough? Too many self pics show a darker side of human nature? Is it all in fun, or is nobody’s business?

Digging Into The Entrails

January 4, 2015 by scarletdarkwood Leave a Comment

Flannery O’Connor said many things in her short life. This particular viewpoint I found quite interesting:

Writing a novel is a terrible experience, during which the hair often falls out and the teeth decay. I’m always irritated by people who imply that writing fiction is an escape from reality. It is a plunge into reality, and it’s very shocking to the system.

Luckily, I have not found writing a terrible experience. My teeth have not fallen out, thank goodness. My hair . . . Let’s just say I was not blessed with luscious locks, but I have what I have! I must admit, however, that the more I try to fine-tune my writing ability, the more I have to agree with O’Connor. I’m finding authors who write moving prose have shown an ability for digging deep into the psyche, into reality, and into the darkest shadows of human thought and experience, and have brought out those mental pictures beautifully onto the page.

Such an ability doesn’t require just talent alone, but a willingness to travel deep into the guts of what makes us, for better or worse, human. As I write different stories, I’m finding I must do that too. Sometimes I hit the bullseye. Other times, a swift kick in the pants from a beta reader reminds me I failed miserably. Usually a comment of “this left me dry,” or “you just pulled me out of the story” means I failed in digging into an experience or exploring how someone might feel in the situation I’m trying to portray on paper.

I must admit, I’m one of those people who hates digging into emotions, expressing deep feelings, though I’m opinionated as hell. I’ll go a step further and state that I actually hate feeling sometimes. Life’s so much easier if you have a stiff upper lip and can go on about your business without getting too involved in the human condition. The only problem, not feeling robs you of being human, of showing compassion, love, fear, hate, and as a result, of fluently pouring out meaningful prose where it counts most.

People subjected to severe trauma often shut down, detach from life, and feel nothing. The world is a painful place and they avoid it now. Desperate for any feeling at all, they’ll sometimes inflict pain on themselves so they’ll feel something. Anything. This pain reminds them they exist, that they are still alive, still human with a future ahead of them, if they can just hang on and keep going one more day. Something inside tells them they must feel and acknowledge the good, bad, and ugly, or else go blindly through life like an automaton–or worse yet, die.

For a writer, one who writes without thinking, feeling, blindly typing out words on a screen in hopes of getting a good thought or story across, this lack of attachment or understanding can be a death knell. A good writer takes a moment and considers the many faces of human nature, the good, funny, odd, dark, eccentric, and perverted so they can tell their version of a story that’s burning inside them, and hopefully one that will leave readers more enriched and questioning their own attitudes and the world around them. For a writer, delving deep into scenarios where angels fear to tread can be scary. It means looking deep into yourself and your own attitudes. It means dredging up old pain, reliving the past, or in some cases, imagining yourself in situations you’ve never dreamed of.

It means opening yourself up and feeling. For me personally, that’s difficult much of the time, and if I’m not careful or don’t have beta readers who keep me on track, my stories risk lacking that human element, or leaving a reader wanting more. Like a person undergoing psychotherapy, a writer must also explore those uncomfortable aspects of life, those instances where one squirms a little, or a lot.

No genre is exempt from this type of self-study. In erotica, one has to consider sex, the arousal evoked, and in some cases, the willingness to incorporate some the kinkiest activities in the sex arsenal. For me, that was hard, especially when it came to using some of the lingo that went with it. I have a personal prejudice again certain words. My very first release showed that prejudice in the form of flowery, what may be considered more Victorian, language. For most readers, that will be a deal breaker. When I went back and tweaked the story again, the language was a little more palatable, but still not hard-core. However, I wrote it they way I wanted to, like it or not–and it sells the best.

In my erotic short stories, I let my hair down, closed my eyes, and let the “nasty” words fly. To my surprise and amusement, there was something rather liberating in that act, just letting it all hang out and dangle, if you will. My current WIP is different, altogether. Because the main character is suddenly thrust into an insane asylum, I’m forced to capture what a person in such a horrid setting may feel when they see unsightly scenes and insults to humanity. I have to capture how a woman feels when her old life has ended and she’s forced far from her home, and must build a new life with no family, friends, or relative who can help.

I’ve got some ideas for some horror stories. Likewise, I’ll think about what motivates people to harm others or what drives their world, what makes them think and act they way they do. During Christmas, I wrote a short story in the sci-fi genre, which is totally out of my element. Talk about rationalization! Both my characters found themselves rationalizing just to survive an unpleasant mission and continue in their privileged lifestyle. This experience as a writer was amazing and valuable. It taught me how to think differently and how I might tackle elements out of my usual genres.

Like we say today: “It’s all good!”

If you’re a writer, what things bog you down? Do you find it difficult to search deep inside yourself, your experiences? How does this affect your work? Do you struggle with tackling the dark sides of humanity? Do the negatives of today actually drive your work, encouraging your plot lines? I’d love to hear about it!

Schuyler Thorpe’s Blog: A New Discovery Of Mine!

January 2, 2015 by scarletdarkwood Leave a Comment

They say social media is all about building relationships, not blasting off about your books. Needless to say, I met an interesting person online the other day. Schuyler Thorpe is his name, and I found his writing and history very interesting. The experience reminded me again that I’ve met some nice people online, ones who’ve also come to my rescue. But some people have blogs you simply enjoy reading. His is one of them.

You find out a lot about people, what makes them tick, the adversities they had to go through to get where they are in the present moment. As a result, I build a greater appreciation for others and what they do and what their journey’s been like.

It’s always nice to talk with other authors and see what paths they’ve taken and what potholes they’ve run into. Do they like traditional publishing, or is it Indie all the way for them? Each person has his own idea of what works and what doesn’t, and the beauty of it is that nobody’s wrong.

The one command thread I see among successful people is the ability to get past the negatives and keep on trucking, finding as many positives as they can, the golden carrot that keeps them moving forward when everything else seems to have wrecked.

I would never be able to capture Schuyler Thorpe’s voice or share experiences in exactly the way he does, but in perusing his blog, the posts caught my interest right away. So I decided to share his blog link with you so you can learn the journey of someone new and learn from it!

Sky’s Universal Predications

No, Maybe You’re Not Being Catfished!

November 5, 2014 by scarletdarkwood 7 Comments

So now there’s another brouhaha ablaze, and it bubbles and toils like nobody’s business. Still does. In the memory of book bloggers, especially. Apparently author Kathleen Hale stalked a reviewer, to the point of obsessively trying to find out about her on the Internet, followed her posts and Net hangouts, and finally got her actual address. Did it stop there? Oh, no! Of course not: She drove to this person’s house, rang the doorbell, and when no one answered, left a book on the doorstep and returned to her rental car (yes, she went the extra mile to get a rental car). And the way she described getting the reviewer’s address, under the guise of participating in a book club giveaway, smacked of sick sneakiness, in my humble opinion.

Alas, they say confession has it’s own soul’s relief. She took it to the last world’s end and wrote about it in her article, “Am I being Catfished?” If you’ll notice, I’m not posting links here on my blog. Don’t need to. You’re smart readers. Go Google it. You’ll find it with no problem whatsoever, along with any other information you want to know about this incident. (And if you want to know my first experience with an author behaving badly, so much so that she or Amazon eventually pulled her book, check out “The Greek Seaman by Jacqueline Howett–also read the series of comments on BigAl’s Book and Pals).

From an author’s standpoint, I’ve heard for a while about authors being bullied and trolled to the point that authors have sometimes had to remove themselves from social media for a while. I’ve heard LOTS about that. Even Anne Rice has spoken about this on her Facebook page. Stop The Goodreads Bullies is a site where trolls and reviewers behaving badly were placed in a position of what used to be known as the pillory. Having virtual tomatoes thrown at them via copies of their reviews, shaming comments, and having their personal information posted for the whole world to see: their social security numbers, their home address. (Oh, I forgot to mention, Kathleen Hale also CONTACTED the reviewer by phone and spoke to her, under the pretense of “fact-finding”).

As a result of this lovely shenanigan by Hale, bloggers banded together to host a book blog black out from 10/23-27, or some date like that. This incident frightened them so badly, they decided it was time to take a stand, and stand together they did. They hosted a blackout, and did not do book reviews or carry through with blog tours during this time as a means of making a statement: We’re not gonna take it!

What’s my opinion? I think authors need to stop worrying about book reviews and concentrate on making sales. That’s the name of the game: make sales! That will get Amazon and other sites noticing you and ranking you higher. I’ve seen books with only a single one-star review, and their rankings are fantastic! The author is selling books. Granted, there are sites where you need a certain number of reviews to participate, Pixel Of Ink being one of them. They do this to ensure a certain quality, but in light of shill reviews, I question this thinking. But what else is one to do?

Punchline: Just because someone gives your book a low review doesn’t mean you’re being catfished. The reviewer is giving an opinion. I don’t defend in any way whatsoever showing up uninvited on someone’s doorstep. It’s dangerous, could get you arrested, or at the very worst, killed. DON’T DO IT. EVER! Instead of working on her next book or promoting the one she had, Hale wasted precious time traipsing after a reviewer for not liking her book. And though Indie Authors have been the worst offenders for getting royally pissed when things don’t go their way, it looks like traditionally published authors do the same at times.

I’ll say it again. To those who have purchased my books, I thank you wholeheartedly. I hope to goodness I haven’t wasted your time. If you want to know more about what’s going on with me, I have this blog where you can sign up for my newsletter to get special treats others don’t get. You can also like my author page. I will NEVER harass you for book buys or reviews (though I appreciate both). I want writing and book blogging to be productive, fun, and most of all, SAFE.

End of rant! And happy reading and blogging, whether you be a reader, blogger, or author, or all three! #Haleno

A Fun Romp Through Different Genres

August 4, 2014 by scarletdarkwood Leave a Comment

Not too long ago, I saw a Meme about how certain music genres would characterize a sentence in their different varieties: Country, Pop, Metal, and a few others I can’t remember. So I decided this exercise wasn’t just for musicians, but writers could do it to. I took it upon myself to give this a shot and use the same sentence that was the kick-off point in the meme. Here goes, and hope you enjoy!

Sentence: I saw a flower

Romance: The cerise-petaled flower fluttered in the wind, hoping desperately to catch the attention of the handsome cattail standing nearby. She’d had her eye on him for quite some time, and the sight of his strong brown frame always left her breathless.

Erotica: Rose opened herself to the warm, brilliant sun above, smiling shyly as she uncloaked her golden center, offering herself to the brilliant orb in the sky. Sun’s eyes gazed down, flickering with lust as his warm finger rays reached down, tenderly stroking over the tight bundle of pistils and stamens. The shivery pleasure radiated down through her stem and out of the roots that tethered her in place.

Horror: The purple Iris smiled her most seductive smile, one so diabolical that no human could resist touching her. She knew she was the death flower, as did the inky black raven who perched on the branch above her. He loved nothing better than a view of a victim, shrieking with pain, as they fell to their death upon touching the moist purple petals.

Steampunk: Abigail donned her goggles, gloves, and cap, and hopped into her new flying machine, a rather odd-looking, flower-shaped contraption resembling a daisy, outfitted with a bulbed compartment for a pilot and rider. The petal-like propellers, operated by steam, whirled round and round at a dizzying speed, sending the plane zipping through the air. Though she was a young lady, Grandfather would be so proud of her flying skills.

Sci/Fi: The battle between the Tiger Lillies and Pussy Willows raged on. A deep blanket of pollen covered the sky, choking anything that dared to breathe. The Tiger Lillies shot off rounds of bullets from their pistils and stamens, only to be answered by the horrendous bombs strategically launched by the cunning Pussy Willows. The after math would be terrible, with the carnage of dead flowers and buds all over the field.

Fantasy: Morning Glory flared her purple cape around her and glared at the sky. No more would Thunder and Lightning bully her with their streaks of terrible light and monstrous sounds. She pulled her leaves tighter together to hide the vial containing the secret light, it’s name so sacred it couldn’t be uttered aloud. She’d show them. A few simple magic words, and she’d open the vial.

Paranormal Romance: Destiny’s Last Chance Is Published!

July 7, 2014 by scarletdarkwood Leave a Comment

I said I’d do it, didn’t I? I said I’d be venturing into other genres, and I did it, true to my word! Here is my paranormal romance. Many of you have the introduction to my writing in the way of Erotica, but I’m so much more than that. I do have another Erotica novel planned, as well as other books for the Pleasure House Collection. But I had to do this paranormal romance, Destiny’s Last Chance, because it’s a story near and dear to my heart. Like most authors, there are always elements of their own truth that they incorporate into their stories, and my new book is no different, of course. It is a work of fiction, and so many of the events NEVER took place in real life. I had to step back and wonder, what if . . .?

I love ghost stories, and this one is such a novel. There are elements of the occult and metaphysical as well. And, yes, there are sex scenes, though they’re much more tamed down. My editor said he felt they were as erotic as my other novels. However, there’s no graphic language or detailed information–more implied, I should say. Everything was tastefully done. I had to work hard to keep up three different plotlines, trying desperately to weave them together, hold them up, and finally resolve them. That was a little tricky for me, because in my previous novels, I really didn’t have to do that. The stories simply were not written that way nor were they intended to have multiple plotlines.

But Destiny changed that for me. I needed it to make the “what if?” story interesting. I love this book, and I enjoyed every minute of writing it. It’s full of great characters, snappy dialogue and has a nice dose of suspense to it. As an opening teaser, here’s an excerpt:

“Like I’ve said before, choices, choices. One has to make them, like it or not.”

“I hear you, Irene.” Kit glanced up at her friend. “No doubt you told your friend that, too, right?”

“I think I’ve said things like that more than once to people. Maybe it’s me being egotistical, but I wish they would listen to me sometimes.”

Nodding, Kit stared out the window while Irene sat back to let their conversation digest. Kit wanted nothing more than to slip out into the night and dissolve in the air. Knowing her friend as well as she did, being sneaky or unkind was never Irene’s intention. For all her outspoken tendencies, this lady always kept loyalty and trust in the forefront. Lately, however, her inner knowing had left Kit more on edge, and the gentle confrontations kept her emotions on their toes. But there was a question that burned in Kit’s mind, and maybe Irene could help again. Since the shop didn’t seem to have many patrons tonight, this time seemed as good as any to get some answers.

Turning back to her friend, Kit blurted out, “I’ve been wondering about this, and since we’re on the subject of boyfriends and amorous co-workers, maybe your sixth sense can help me with this question.”

“Go on, I’m all ears.” Irene perked up.

“Sometimes I wonder if Steven really loves me or not. I want to know where he stands concerning us.”

“Fair enough, and I have just the thing that can help answer some of these questions.” Irene slipped her purse from the back of her chair and spent a few moments rustling through the contents until she pulled out a black velvet drawstring bag. “I always carry this with me. It’s not bulky like tarot cards, and it’s definitely smaller than a Ouija board.” She opened the bag and pulled out a pendulum. The clear quartz point dangled from the end of a silver chain.

Kit smiled. “You do come prepared, don’t you?”

“Always!” Irene grinned back. “But before we begin, I need to calibrate this thing just to make sure it’s working okay.” She dangled the point, holding the piece a few inches off the table.”

“You mean a pendulum can actually malfunction?” Kit grinned and shook her head. “I wouldn’t have imagined something like that breaking down.”

Irene gave her the look of a teacher lecturing before a group of students. “If the energy isn’t right, they can refuse to move, and you won’t get any answers during the current session. You’ll have to wait for another time and try again.”

“I see. I don’t want to wait until another time, so here’s to hoping we’re in luck, I guess.”

“I’m going to ask it a simple yes or no question. When it moves clockwise, that means yes, and when it moves counterclockwise, that means no.” Irene straightened up and focused her eyes on the pendulum. “Is Kit here with me tonight?” She repeated the question in a soft voice. Within seconds, the pendulum began moving. As Irene repeated the question some more, the point began swinging in a clockwise direction. “Stop . . . neutral . . . neutral . . . new question. Is snow green?” The pendulum slowly shuddered to a stop, and as Irene repeated the question, the pendulum began swinging in a counterclockwise direction.

Kit, stunned by what she saw, remained silent, not daring to break the mood by saying something silly.

Irene smiled up a Kit. “Terrific. Looks like we’re in business tonight. So what’s the question, my dear girl?”

Pushing her latte aside, Kit straightened up in her chair and leaned toward Irene. “I want to know if Steven truly loves me.”

“Very well, we’ll ask. She dangled the pendulum in front of her once again, holding the chain at the end. “Does Steven love Kit?” Within seconds, the quartz point began to swing a little, gathering momentum the more Irene asked the same question. The pendulum moved in a clear clockwise direction, thus answering the question in the affirmative.

Wide-eyed, Kit glanced from the pendulum to her friend. “Wow, that was something. And you think it’s accurate?”

“I’m the one holding this, and don’t forget I have a subconscious mind too. But you’re also providing energy, as you tap into the deeper, unseen wisdom you have.” Irene gazed directly at Kit. “You have your answer to this question. Do you have another one?”

“Yes, I do have one more. Is there a future between Steven and myself?”

Irene steadied the pendulum and asked the question. “Will Steven and Kit be together in the future?”

The coffee shop grew quieter than usual, with the clatter of dishes and coffee grinding coming to a halt. Remaining customers had dwindled down to around two, and they’d been sitting for a while with their eyes transfixed to computer screens. Kit and Irene remained on task, immersed in their own world, the one of seekers. After a few times of asking the same question, the pendulum began to shimmy. These movements turned into tiny convulsions on the end of the chain. Both ladies stared in amazed silence. In an unexpected turn of events, the quartz drop split in two parts, followed in rapid succession by the chain breaking. The pendulum fell to a heap of disconnected, useless parts on the table between the two ladies.

“Holy shit! What just happened?” Kit shrank back in her chair.

Irene sat blinking at the destroyed pendulum, shaking her head. “Oh, dear. I’m not sure what just happened. I’ve never had that sort of thing go down like this before.” She turned her eyes up to her friend. “That pendulum was not about to give us any answers, and quite frankly, I’m not sure why. Apparently the spirit world wants to keep that answer under wraps for right now.” She shifted in her seat. “This whole thing has me baffled, and a little nervous. Let’s talk about something else, like the gala.”

“Yes, let’s do that.” Kit moved to take another sip of her latte.

Irene picked up the broken pendulum and dropped the parts back in the black bag. “I am getting excited about this. Oh, and I’m already thinking about some of the auction items I want to bid on. What about you? Have you thought about something you’d like?”

“Mmm, yeah. I saw some fun stuff. I still haven’t gotten the rest of my outfit together . . .”

The two friends spent the remainder of their time making small talk. When they’d finished, Irene walked back to her car and drove home. Disturbed by the events she’d just experienced with Irene, Kit walked by Celestial Temptation Gallery, desperate to see Steven more than ever.

Sentence: I saw a flower

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