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Weak Like Bull

By on Jun 20, 2016 in The Scrawl |

Having recently broken my wrists has presented me numerous challenges I was not prepared for. I can’t lift anything. I can’t push anything. I can’t twist either wrist. This has meant a substantial challenge in nearly every pursuit. I wrote my last novel in 13 days. I’m currently hunting and pecking with two fingers to write this blog post as gingerly as possible. I can’t cook, really. I can’t clean much. I have trouble getting dressed every morning. (Buttons just suck!) Using a mouse and keyboard tire me out. My wrists ache and scream each night. Sleeping isn’t fun or rejuvenating. I have a house I’m trying to sell which is currently covered in primer. And that condition is owed, purely, to the assistance of some dear friends. It sure does seem like the bones where my complaints come from aren’t located in my wrists though. Having...

6-8 Weeks

By on Jun 12, 2016 in The Scrawl |

I broke both of my wrists. For those continuing to read this blog, I’ll post again in August. Share this:ShareClick to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on Google+ (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pocket (Opens in new...

Hanging Up

By on Jun 8, 2016 in The Scrawl |

This blog post is likely going out into a peculiar sort of vacuum. Recently I discontinued the use of all social media. All of it. Twitter, Facebook, Instagram(though I hardly used that) and am trying to live my life separate from that Charybdis. So it will be a curiosity to see what happens here, if anyone, literally anyone, sees this post. But here’s why I did it. 1. Social media is not healthy for me. Maybe it’s okay for you. Maybe it’s okay for the vast majority of people out there. For me, it inspires depression, anger, disappointment, and wrong desires. When I’m surrounding myself with authors, I tend to want to be a successful author all over again. I am tempted to go back to that idol and pick it up, dust it off, and bow down again. Conversely, when I’m interacting with pastors, I tend to want to be a pastor. And I am in the process of laying that...

My voice doesn’t matter.

By on Jun 1, 2016 in The Scrawl |

That sounds almost like clickbait when I write it out, but it’s a true statement so long as I give you context and definition. Note: this is not some attempt at having you deny my statement in order to encourage me. Why? Because your voice doesn’t matter either. Not, at least, in the way our world wants us to believe it does. Have you ever stopped to ask yourself why comment sections on literally ANY website are the host to a parade of human depravity not typically on display in casual human interaction? A Youtube video where a guy records himself singing a song he wrote for his dying wife will have encouragement from people to kill himself. Young men and women get graphically wanton sexual advances no matter their age. God forbid you do something unintentionally funny and go viral. A political story on a news site? Nowadays you have to specifically expand the comments...