Author Archive
I don’t consider myself a writer.
In the most technical sense of the word, I am. These are in fact, words I am typing, and supposedly people read them.
But a waiter at a restaurant writes out my lunch order, and I read it when I get the bill. A cop writes me a ticket for speeding, and I read that also, before cursing him in the name of all deities fictional and imaginary. Luckily for me, I take the bus. 🙂
My point is, just writing things down doesn’t make them writers, and doesn’t make me one either.
I’m just an EDI configuration analyst who writes a blog on the side.
But maybe I’m a bad example. I do this as a hobby; as a way to get my voice out more and to rant at my friends less. It is not my dream to one day be The Next Great American Author™.
So how about other examples?
I have a friend who writes every day. Her dream is, in fact, to one day become The Next Great American Author™, as famous as Stephen King or Mark Twain.
I’ve read her writing, and I like it a lot. It could use some peer review and revision, like everything else. But she has a lot of raw talent. She is reluctant to call herself a writer; at least not yet, and I agree.
I would call her a dreamer, who aspires to one day be a writer.
How about my dad?
He’s actually written 3 novels (that I know of) and is currently working on another. He’s tried to get at least one of them published, and would like to get all of them out there some day. But I’ve never read any of them. I also wouldn’t consider him a writer, because that isn’t he is known for.
I would consider him a radio talk show host who has also written some books.
How about some on who has an English degree, and writes every day, and also dreams, like my friend above, of being The Next Great American Author™?
Nope.
Having a degree only shows that you should be a competent writer, it doesn’t prove you are one. Just look at JK Rowling, Kurt Vonnegut, and the other famous writers out there without a BA in English. You need the actual skills to back it up, or it’s pointless bragging.
No, I would call this person a barista (or sales clerk, fry cook, etc.) with $50,000 worth of student debt, who dreams of being a writer.
So how would I discern a “true” writer?
Well, it isn’t through dreams, or degrees, or rough drafts nobody reads. A dream keeps you going, a degree teaches you skills, and a rough draft gets you started.  Those things are all good, and they can help you be a writer.
But they aren’t what earn you the right to call yourself one.
The thing that does that is proof, Â plain and simple.
Because it doesn’t matter what you say, or how loud or often you say it. What matters is what you do.
A musician doesn’t go around introducing himself as a musician at parties, he goes out and plays music.
A smart person doesn’t tell her coworkers she is smart, she shows it by excelling at her job.
A chef cooks, a painter paints, an actress acts, and a dancer dances.
A writer doesn’t go constantly exclaiming he is a writer to everyone who asks (and probably many people who didn’t.)
A writer sits down and writes.
So if someone tells me they are a writer, my next question is going to be, “What have you written?”
If they stumble and bumble their way to some excuse about how they just aren’t ready yet, or some other weak not-really-an-answer, I won’t take them seriously.
Because you can call yourself whatever you want. I can call myself Grand Dictator Shaman Romney, Wizard King of the Etherium, Esq.
But if I can’t back it up with full caster levels and the ability to practice law, I’m just making stuff up to make myself feel important.
If you can’t show proof that you are a writer, you are doing the same thing.
However, that is just one EDI-configuration-analyst-who-writes-a-blog-on-the-side’s opinion, and I would love your thoughts in the comments below.
Thanks for reading. 🙂
-Shaman
Drained, tired, exhausted,
My piece of mind accosted.
Shattered by the days events and more.
Weak, spent, and weary,
I find my outlook dreary
As piles of life grow too tall to ignore.
Humiliated and humbled,
Nervously I stumbled
Not knowing what next I had in store.
Now I stand and wait,
Trying desperately to abate
My heart from writing this stoccato score.
But then, a sudden conclusion
Comes much to my confusion.
My problems stay behind my bedroom door.
I’ll finally get some rest
Against the world’s behest.
A peaceful sleep is what I’m hoping for.
Maybe tomorrow will more kind.
Maybe i’ll be in less of a bind.
I wont know until I wake, that’s for sure.
Shaman Romney 2014
When an old beginning ends,
A new beginning life portends.
With new experiences and brand new friends.
New colors match your personal blends.
When the new beginnings start,
The old ones do not fly apart.
They stay as beautiful pieces of art;
Locked away safely with your heart.
So when a beginning begins anew.
Remember all the things that you’ve been through.
Think of all the things that you’ll go on to do.
Of all life’s demons that you slew.
Hold those thoughts with you and smile.
You just made it through life’s trial.
The next one starts in a short while.
So when you live, live life in style.
-Shaman Romney 2014
Here to go, there to stay.
My best friend had to leave today.
Back to his life of thrills and glory
And my life here, the same old story.
Here to go, there to stay
I wish there was another way
To have you stay a day or two
So we can do the things we do.
Here to go there to stay
I know there is no other way
You have life to live that’s yours,
Of shining streets and open doors.
Here to go there to stay
There’s just one thing I want to say.
Live your life, pursue your dreams,
Walk upon life’s balance beams.
Search for love and always laugh,
So when they write your epitaph
They’ll know that this one thing is true:
You lived the life you wanted to.
-Shaman Romney 2014
Work is kicking my butt, so here is a poem I started working on in September that has been sitting in my drafts, gathering dust. Thanks for reading!
Once more into the prompt.
Our free-write is back by popular demand: today, write about anything — but you must write for exactly ten minutes, no more, no less.
(I only edited this for formatting/ clarity. The core writing was all in 10 minutes.)
I got a new job!
The offer came out of nowhere (I had applied by putting my name and resume in one of those cheesy looking ads on the side of a website), and I got the job within a couple of days. The pay is much better than the one I’m at now, good benefits, 8 to 5, Monday through Friday, etc. It is in a tech field doing something I’ve never even heard of, with what seems like an awesome bunch of people.
It almost feels too good to be true. It feels like I’m going to get there and it is going to turn out to be some nasty sweatshop where they beat me with a riding crop for hours on end and laugh at my continual suffering.
Or even worse, it could be a call center.
But, I’m trying to stay optimistic, and I am definitely excited.
It feels weird to leave this job. I’ve been working here for over two years; it feels like I’m leaving a huge chunk of myself behind. In the time working here I’ve become a whole different person. I no longer hate myself; I wake up in the morning and I am glad to see the person staring back at me. I finally am (mostly) in control of my demons.
So I guess this would be the inevitable next step. Once some things in life improve, everything else seems to cascade and fall into place. I couldn’t (and definitely didn’t want to) be stuck in a dead end job forever.
So what does my new job mean for this blog?
I still want to keep it going. This has been a big turning point for me. Making blogging a goal helped keep me focused, and helped keep me from giving up. But I have no idea how much I’ll be able to do with this new job. I’m pretty sure it’ll actually give me more of an ability to write now, but I won’t be able to do so at work anymore.
So, as a heads up, for the next few months content on here may be a little sparse. I’m still going to try to post at least twice a week, and I don’t think that will be hard for me to do.
But it will probably be poems, or small, quickly voiced thoughts. The longer winded diatribes will have to wait.
Thanks for reading. 🙂
-Shaman.
I don’t normally Re-blog, but this post on atheism is very well done. Any of my friends/readers who wonder what atheism is, or at least how I define it should read this.
-Shaman
I didn’t ask to be the hero,
I didn’t ask to be knight.
To lose my life in battle
For what others think is “right.”
To forfeit my life for them,
To fall upon the sword,
They think the opportunity
Is its own reward.
Doesn’t anyone give a damn
About how I think or feel?
Am I just a tool to you?
A Currency in your deals?
Did you know that I’m a person
With feelings and goals?
Maybe I’ve grown tired
Of being raked across your coals?
Will you even stop to listen
To what I have to say?
Of course you never will,
Empathy gets in the way.
So I am without options,
I no longer have a voice.
My arrows all point to lose,
I’m left without a choice.
One day I’ll break the cycle,
One day I’ll win this fight
Until then, I’ll play the martyr;
I will be the knight.
-Shaman Romney 2014
At Work
Thoughts come in so fast
Readily, I grab at them
They slip through my hand
Because time stops for no man
Especially here at work.
No time for the things.
Things I need more time to do.
Things that I love most.
Can’t do what I want to do
Especially here at work.
When I stop for breath
Only a moment’s respite
And then I’m pulled back
There is no time for a break
Especially here at work
I give up and wait
For the day to be over
For the time to go
I do not want to stay here
Especially here at work
-Shaman Romney 2014
(Sorry for not posting all of last week. Work was, and still is, extremely busy. Hopefully it will slow down soon. Thanks for reading.)
Until recently, I wasn’t a very happy person.
Hell, half the time I’m still not. I’m not really anywhere I want to be in life. I’m at a job I hate, living with my mom, with no romantic prospects and no real dreams. At least any dreams I can accomplish anytime soon. Things could be a lot worse, and they are getting better. But I definitely have a long way to go.
However, even with all that, I know I would be much worse off if I didn’t have my friends. I probably wouldn’t even be here now to type this if it wasn’t for them. My friends keep me going, comfort me when I fall, and make sure I have a good time while doing both.
I know this challenge is about sidekicks, but I don’t really like to think of them that way. If anything I’m the sidekick in their stories, although I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t want to call me a sidekick either.
So, being sufficiently nerdy (and because I’ve got Pathfinder on the brain), I’m going to call them my adventuring party. Omitting names of course, there are 3 other members party, and they will know who they are. (If you aren’t on the list, it’s not because I don’t like you. Maybe if you guest star in enough adventures you can join the main party too. But all my friends are awesome. Yes, even you. You can put your hand down now.)
Life’s like this, except less dragons, and more Cheetos.
We’ll go in chronological order:
First, there is the one I’ve known the longest. We met in 3rd grade, if I’m remembering correctly. It’s been a long time, that’s for sure.
He’s always been such an easy going, laid back guy. He doesn’t seem like he has to try that hard, cause he’ll either come out on top, or he’ll just roll with it. But either way, he’ll make sure to put a smile on your face. He’s the type of friend that I could not see for ten years, but come back into town and hang out with like it was just yesterday.
He just always seems to be able to lighten a mood, strike up a party, and generally just makes me feel good when he’s around.
If we are going with the classic adventuring party, he would be the rogue.
Quick witted, sure to get you into trouble but can get you out just as quickly. Although not as stalwart as the fighter or as powerful as the wizard, he’s just as invaluable as both of them. Plus, rogues are totally my favorite class.
Next is my friend I met in high school. He is the reason I am the man I am today.
In 9th through 11th grade, I was a weirdo. Well, I still am, but back then I was even more so. Wearing vests no matter what the weather, playing Yugi-oh cards, angst-ing out to Linkin Park and Metallica, etc. Not really doing anything important or thinking about anything worthwhile.
All that changed when we became friends. I don’t know why he decided to invite me on that camping trip, but we really hit it off. He is the reason I even care about philosophy, psychology, religion. Pretty much everything I write or care about know was influenced by him.
Plus, he introduced me to the world of fine cigars and bourbon. It doesn’t get better than that. It was totally worth skipping calculus to hang out.
He would be our parties’ wizard. Wise beyond his years and full of arcane knowledge, with just enough insanity behind it all to make things entertaining. Also the one with all the fun tricks and toys.
Last, but most definitely not least, is a more recent addition the party. She and I have known each other for years, but it was only through suffering the hell that was my last relationship that our friendship got stronger.
She was my ex’s roommate, and let’s just say, nothing brings you closer like adversity brought on by someone who never pays their rent. She’s just awesome. She helps me see my daughter, gives me rides everywhere, and is always willing to give me a hand. She is one of the strongest and most loving people I have ever met.
She will also listen to me rant for hours. Just imagine being forced to listen to me rant day after day. Not this nice, edited, coherent stuff. Just pure, uncut brain vomit. Sure it might be fun at first, but eventually you’d probably want to kill me just to shut me up. But she’ll not only sit and listen, but she helps me build new ideas, and tackle things from new angles. Although she may not know it, she is one of the driving forces behind this blog. If I couldn’t rant to her, I would never gather my thoughts enough to write these posts.
She is supportive beyond belief, and without her, I don’t think I would have made it through my emotional problems. She was there when I needed someone most, and I owe her my life for that, literally and gladly.
Let’s see: strong, willing to help others and sacrifice herself, protecting her friends… Sounds like a cleric to me. Not one of those fruity clerics with the staff though. One of those clerics that will smash you up with a mace if you piss them off. But otherwise is completely pleasant and helpful. She’s smart, and could kick your ass. Well, definitely my ass at least.
What class would I be?
Well if we’ve got the rogue, the wizard, and the cleric, I guess that would make me the fighter.
Strong, tough, and extremely protective of his friends. Willing to take the hits, because he trusts that his friends will have his back.
I think it suits me. Although I can’t say I’m the defender of my friends, or that I help them out as much as they help me, I’d like to think they know I do the best I can. I would gladly put myself in harm’s way for them, even when they charge headlong into battle, run screaming with the loot, or have just lit the building on fire (and it totally wasn’t their fault.)
If there is anything I want you guys to take from this little rant, it’s this: I love you guys so much, and I am absolutely honored to call you my friends. I can not put into words just how much you all mean to me, and I hope we will get to keep having these adventures for the rest of our lives.
Now, if only we could work on the loot gathering part… 🙂
-Shaman
Prompting you to take action!
The internet has recently been swept up by the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge. Is there a cause — social, political, cultural, or other — you passionately believe in? Tell us how you got involved — or why you don’t get involved.
I talk about a lot of causes.
I’ve definitely covered atheism on this blog, and will probably do so in the future.
I also have strong opinions on a lot sociopolitical issues – gay marriage, equality, education, welfare, etc. – and at some point I may talk about them here too. But although I may feel passionate about those subjects, I tend to abstain from bringing them into the public square.
Politics turns into loud screaming match that gets us nowhere and doesn’t really solve anything. Were the political climate less confrontational, I might be more inclined to wade into the discussion. I also don’t really mind other people’s beliefs, and only when they are thrust upon me. Plus, we have enough irreligious warriors in the Amazing Atheist, Richard Dawkins, Jaclyn Glenn, etc., and I think they are doing a good enough job on their own.
I am also a hardcore skeptic, and I feel that debunking false claims, pseudoscience, and other sorts of woo is extremely important. But I don’t really passionately charge at people doing those things. I’m more like a sleeping volcano, who gets prodded by these things and ends up blowing up at the triggering person in a pyroclastic flow of logic and science.
That is assuming I even care at the moment.
Most strangers can believe in their crystals, homeopathy, and the like. I only really speak out when I see family and friends buying into stuff like that. So even though I feel passionate about this also, I don’t jump up and actively work against it.
There is one thing I’ve been involved in, and I still feel passionately about: Father’s rights.
I got involved in the father’s rights movement because I was a single father who was trying to establish my paternity (my ex actually wanted me to leave, since I didn’t want to be with her. She wanted to keep me off of it so her eventual husband could take my place and adopt uncontested) and gain the ability to see my daughter. I, like many other men, was put through the ringer, and I didn’t even deal directly with the courts.
I was barred from the hospital after my daughter was born, because I had the audacity to ask what steps I needed to take to be put on the birth certificate. Then, while trying to avoid court, I was forced to jump through hoops while I tried to get whatever time with her I could, which was a slowly dwindling amount. This was all because my only option was court, even if they were fully cooperative.
When I finally got sick of the run around, and asked them directly to let me put my name on the birth certificate, I was threatened with never seeing my daughter again.
I decided to petition for paternity, and didn’t see my daughter for 4 months as a result. Instead, she got to call another man dad, and I had to shell out for a lawyer. Then I had to go to mediation, take a paternity class, do a trial/integration period, give an arm and a leg, make a blood sacrifice to Cthulhu, and other legal mumbo jumbo. Eventually, all that got me basic visitation, monthly child support, and one year’s worth of arrears owed (almost 3000.) According to my lawyer, all of that was an incredible deal, and I was lucky to get it.
That was the part that I couldn’t take.
The fact that I got the bare minimum required by law, and was lucky for it, was infuriating.
Then I looked at all the other stories, all the other things people went through, and it made me even madder.
The system is corrupt, and is mired in misguided sexism for both genders. According to the courts, women are weak mothers who never want to work again and need to be protected from the evil men. The men should be reduced to nothing more than walking wallets to bleed dry, because they must all be deadbeats, even the ones who petition and fight for their children.
Things in Utah are improving slowly, especially in public awareness. But the laws have yet to really change. I heard there was a committee or something working on it, so it will still probably be a while before they do. I only hope that they change while I can still benefit from them with my daughter.
But why am I not still involved with father’s rights?
The reason is a little selfish: it’s because I don’t need to fight any more.
I have time with my daughter and an amicable relationship with my ex. I am also not in a position to gain much more, and I could (and probably would) lose a lot by trying. So for now I am happy to sit back and take a passive role trying to spread awareness to those who want to listen. That will probably change in the future, but for now I’m enjoying the thing other people fight so hard for.
I am enjoying time with my family. That is a cause worth fighting for.
-Shaman
Shame on The Universe 