HOW DO YOU GET YOUR IDEAS?

 

That’s up to you. 😉

It could be something you ranted about to me while you were drunk.

It could be the twist in a movie that the director didn’t take and I can’t work out why.

It’s the lady who just ran past me to catch her train.

It’s the mainstream news.

It’s the news report read by a person with a strange name.

It’s what he whispered to me in a dark room 15 years ago.

 

Anything/everything is something. I observe things that a lot of people don’t and sometimes it makes me seem a little strange when I’m recounting an incident later or describing something because I’ve noticed things that might not necessarily be important to the overall scene, but I saw them, and they gave me ideas. I think it’s why people-watching is something a lot of us do. It’s also probably one of the reasons why “The Girl on the Train” was a success. I’ve done it too, pass people and wonder what their life is about, how lucky/unlucky they might be, and what they work as, where they’re from etc.

I’m not sure if it was because I’d been in drama/theatre programs through my younger years but I can always seem more than there is and imagine the “what ifs.” It’s how I come up with ideas from daydreams. When I say “I have a few ideas I’m kicking around the office,” I mean I have (atm) three solid ideas in my head (aside from the Darkrose Novels) and a bunch of ideas I play with when I’m bored. Either I imagine the dialogue, character’s appearance, or even just write a few paragraphs while I’m doing other things.

I always, always, have a blank page open for this purpose, even when I’m just online to play games. 

I assumed all authors/writer-types did similarly. I recently read a post on social media asking where people in the Writer’s Group get their ideas. They got a bunch of condescending *eye roll* replies and some people telling them they were in the wrong place if they needed to ask. I thought it was a pointless question too (at first!) How could you not know? What the? But not everything comes naturally to some people, maybe they had a different upbringing where other things were important or they were consumed with another subject and are only just breaking out into letting their creativity flow. Some people might be trying to get some information and save themselves making mistakes, that question alone gave me an idea to write this post.

We all have worlds around us that we don’t know about and we have questions that experts or people in that world might think are stupid because it’s second nature to them after so long. That isn’t their fault, and it’s great they are looking to write something. So this is how I do it for eg:

I found this chair in a store…Who might have sat on something like this throughout history? Some movie star? Did an ancient queen have something like this? Did she choose the colours? Was she allowed to? Did the person who imported it into the store I visited select it? Why? Who sculpted/made it and what is their motivation or history.
How did they get it into the store? Did the removal guys work fulltime? Was it some teen who took the job to support his sick mum? Did they drop another one and this was one of many?

I just take the idea and play, usually now without trying…and when someone does this – we get more art in the world. Keep playing!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TLDR:

*Ideas come from everywhere, memories, random people and objects.
* Always have a blank page open or ability to record stuff on your phone to put down ideas.
*I take too many pics.

 

 

 

 

All content is no copyright infringement intended. All posts are opinion only and are subject to change due to experience, kicking ass and learning how to adult more effectively. If you don’t like it, don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya. Elements of original content may be reproduced with expressed permission from Ever Eden.

 

 

 

Last week I gave in and did one of those stupid “hey look at me and say nice things about me,” type posts on social media.

Which colour am I? The options were predictable; black is elegant, pink is fun etc.

The comments from friends said I was…

RED.

When I read the three lines under it, I was like 0_0  Because that is not the me that – I – know.

Red said  “assertive, agressive and passionate.”

I’ll take the passionate, definitely – when I have a project, I’m dedicated, visionary in where things could go, and I give a high effort to make it happen because I believe in it. This goes for art, writing, acting and relationships with friends or other. But the other two…?

I can probably seem agressive if someone advocates infringing my rights, or people are being mean to my friends etc. or things I’m “passionate” about, but I think people can mistake effective articulation as someone being excessively passionate about a subject too. Having said that, my household when younger was lively and loud; if you wanted something or thought something was unfair and your sibling was being a cockhead, you just said it and then you yelled about it and later usually made up with food. I don’t think we ever hid our feelings and, despite present rhetoric in our culture about being yourself etc, many people and establishments do hide reality and many words are simultaneously being overexaggerated too. Eg: a celebrity is photographed shedding a tear – all articles caption it with “she sobs.” A friend doesn’t like tomato in their burger and said “yuck!” but later the grapevine claims he swore and was physically sickened by it by the way he exclaimed his shortlived feeling.

It’s like any display of regular human emotion is too much, and the meaning of words is changing to reflect more intensity than what’s actually going on. 

The other word under RED was “assertive.” This one depends on mood, who is messing with me(if some huge scary dude walks past and bumps me, Imma just keep walking,) whether I’m too tired to care, busy etc. But no, I did not think I was especially assertive. I still keep quiet if some old bastard pushes in front of me at the deli counter in the supermarket a lot of the time!

I wasn’t insulted to learn RED was the impression I gave off, (I’m actually kind of chuffed,) but it reminded me that everyone we meet only knows their version of us…

And that is a blessing and curse.

My heart has been chipped, splintered, then broken, demolished and finally I’m walking around with it shattered to dust…but getting RED means people still see me as a BEASSST!  (yay!) I think it sends a good message, that maybe some people are strong enough to maintain a sense of self and their goals no matter what is occuring around them. I think this can inspire people.

On the flipside, I once had an aquaintence who started actively avoiding me when I was down. I became the Eeyore of our social group and it was annoying to her because she didn’t seem to understand the depths mental health can sink and why snapping your fingers can’t pull you out even if you’re really trying. It was also like she was afraid it would leach off me onto her. I felt sad about not showing my better sides and giving her reasons to appreciate me but…in the end, a couple of years later…I don’t give a fuck.  I’ve learned that it is not on me to prove my worth to people who can’t already see it/can’t think I have more than what they initially saw on a particular day. It’s unfortunate but if that is the side someone chooses to stop at before getting to know you, then let them have it.

No wonder people in the public eye get haters so easily. It’s far easier to say “that person is THIS,” – case closed. That person is “THAT, because they have this principle,” and then move on satisfied you put something in its box and lablled. I dislike the neanderthal-thinking style “cancel culture” has brought to parts of everyone’s life. We’ve all seen throngs of an overly-vocal outrage mob go after someone who was misquoted or taken out of context, or a person who was joking –  or even does really hold a controversial point of view on a particular subject…but that isn’t all there is to that person.

So am I RED today? Hell yeah, I even started shit with some girl this morning for being an asshole, before I took a breath, remembered my age and continued on to work. Am I always RED? No, I am also black, pink, yellow and nearly all the others on that picture too. And so are you.

 

TLDR:

*Everyone we meet only sees one interpretation of who we are.

*It is not your job to control how people see you.

*Cancel culture is lame as shit

 

 

 

 

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All content is no copyright infringement intended. All posts are opinion only and are subject to change due to experience, kicking ass and learning how to adult more effectively. If you don’t like it, don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya. Elements of original content may be reproduced with expressed permission from Ever Eden.

Twas a dreary Monday when I awoke to a message that the local donut depository was poppin.

Krispy Kreme Doughnuts did a stunt for their 83rd Birthday. Anyone who had their birthday in “iso” was required to prove it (birth cert/license)and get a DOZEN doughnuts FREE. That’s right, anyone born in the months that the city was under restrictions were compensated for not being able to have a party, go to the pub, have friends over etc.

When I hear about these things, my attitude is usually like “pfft, it must be nice to have spare time to line up for something you barely want or need.”

I swore I wouldn’t do that after 3 harrowing times in my life; once because an ex boyfriend wanted us to camp out for a musical instrument sale, once for Red Hot Chili Peppers concert tickets when I was younger (totally worth it btw,) and another time for an audition for one of those “search the country for a lick of talent” type shows. But this time I thought it would be kind of funny to get doughnuts. It was a day off from appointments and work and I was enjoying a sleep-in after feeling sick the night before…

Despite my goal to limit screen time this year, I still reach for my phone as soon as I open my eyes, and a friend had tagged me in the announcement that free doughnuts were happening. I hastily found ugly clothes, I usually only wear when I go to my mum’s house to sit on the couch and judge everyone on TV, and then I got into the car barefoot. (I’m Aussie, that’s pretty usual.) 

I still had creases on my face from sleeping when I arrived. The doughnut place was surrounded by a ridiculous traffic jam. The stipulations said all the giveaway doughnuts had to be distributed in-store but a traffic jam around the drive thru was happening anyway, and there was even a crash! Some poor bastard smashed his crappy car into a Porsche.

I parked my car and lined up outside the store around midday, not expecting to walk out with a box. It was spitting rain when I was nearing the doors in a line that wasn’t too long at all, and then….the precious sweet sugary prize was going to be mine! I had to show ID to prove my birthday and I walked out with 12, count them, 12 doughnuts.

Why is this post about doughnuts, Ever?

It’s not. It’s about a break. My friend who tagged me took the time to do that,  she’d probably think it was no big deal, she tagged other people too. She might be surprised I actually bothered to drag my cynical lazy self down there and be part of the loser crowd wanting free stuff, but I’m grateful. I’m sure there were people who had nothing better to do or who were hanging out for free sugar but part of the reason I made it happen was because my whole family and I have been surviving the last few of years, not exactly living. It’s been good for memoir fodder but it’s not really fun. Each of us have been struggling with many subjects, family stress/health/relationships/grief etc. When you are in a tunnel, people tell you there will be light but sometimes all you see is an oncoming train and it’s tough to imagine -a n y t h i n g– normal happening to you, let alone something good.

My speck of light came in the form of icing and calories, and fuck you if you begrudge me or try to make me feel guilty for it.

Free doughnuts meant my mum smiled because something random happened and it was actually positive, for once. It meant that we got to eat something we don’t really spend money on because money can be tight for people I know. It meant I could give a couple to my friend who was working hard in community services with her own physical ailments, a kind person who has recently been through uninvited chaos of her own. It meant my dad who is a grouchy old fart actually got involved with the family and tasted one…and then ate 2!

For me, it was a reason to shrug and smile, thinking “cool, something nice is happening for once,” and it made the start of the week better.

It wasn’t anything amazing, that million dollar lotto win remains to be seen, but it was enough to make a few people happier. It was also nice to see parents in the line taking their kids out into a community atmosphere, everyone being polite to each other and making jokes etc. Random human interaction a lot of us have been denied for most of the year.

The franchise is copping some typical MSM bullshit due to apparent lack of ‘social distancing,’ people were doing outside their stores…as we know, Boogeyman Rona is still keeping some areas of the country a police state heaven. But there were markings on the ground outside to maintain distance, and many people didn’t even leave their cars for the 0.00045% death rate that the Rona has had in Australia.

Relax. Eat a doughnut.

 

 

TLDR:

* Someone tagged me in a thing to get free doughnuts
* Doughnuts brought great happiness.

*We all like free shit
*The narratives pushed by MSM still make me lol

 

 

 

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All content is no copyright infringement intended. All posts are opinion only and are subject to change due to experience, kicking ass and learning how to adult more effectively. If you don’t like it, don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya. Elements of original content may be reproduced with expressed permission from Ever Eden.

 

Work, relationships, bills/other often take up time and headspace most people directly around me have to focus on. They don’t seem to do much art. We can’t be in three places at once, so we make choices to sacrifice things to ensure others keep moving. I’ve known someone who made a tough decision to leave a good band so they could work more hours and pay off their house. I’ve watched someone I know put off the novel they were writing due to a faulty Ipad they couldn’t afford to replace and work commitments until it probably left their mind years ago (didn’t leave mine and I’m hoping they do it!)

Art, writing, music, dramatic performance have constantly featured in my life since childhood. I wilt if I’m not doing them. I can’t recall anything I’ve done purely for accolades but I don’t feel good unless I’m working on a project or producing results. It was a choice, has its own consequences, and I don’t begrudge anyone else for the paths they chose. I’d be doing this stuff anyway, audience or not…But we all like it when friends and family support our efforts. Psychology says, “we all want to be seen.” When I saw a few questions in writer’s groups on how to deal with people who don’t support creative endeavours, there were common themes I thought I’d address here.

You released your book. You weren’t thinking it was going to change the world or anything crazy, but you’re proud you finally completed it because it’s taken more effort that anyone would believe. You’re not going to brag about it, you’re just exhausted and relieved, but it doesn’t stop people judging you. Some of the comments seemed to be from people experiencing some of the following! You’d be surprised how many are common.

Struggletown friend

If you’ve been unlucky the last few years, some personal issues you’ve divulged to people at your lowest, you end up with a role you didn’t apply for. When you display your faults, some people assign you that persona – the hard luck friend, the one who always has something wrong and will probably never amount to much so you aren’t a threat/on their radar. They like you, they just don’t hold much hope for you. When you change these things/your life is on the upswing, though probably happy for you, it unsettles something in them too/ something in the dynamic. It’s like they think it won’t last, that you will fuck it up, or they just don’t believe someone with the problems you’ve had is capable or deserving of your most recent triumph. What if you get “too” good? What if you do “better” than them somehow? Wait, how do they assign you a label and think of you now? Now they feel weird about their perceptions of the world around them and you’ve thrown something off in the way they relate to everything.

Just another scheme friend

Your bravery was probably once inspiring but now they’re accustomed to your jack-of-all-trades attitude/ability and they don’t really care about you recent project. In fact, they’re coming across as kind of resentful. Have they attempted anything similar or tried something different in their life? Nope, but fuck you for doing all this stuff, most of which looks like it doesn’t go anywhere, from their angle. Why do you even bother with all this anyway? Don’t you already get enough attention? *rolls eyes* Okay, fine, I’ll come to your book launch/play/exhibit/TED talk/presentation but I will sit in the corner and play on my phone because meh, I’ve seen you before. You’ve got enough suckers here supporting you anyway so that should do. It probably doesn’t make you feel angry but question the friendship and fell bewildered. Does this person somehow actually dislike you because you were willing to take a chance and fail?

Just don’t get it friend

You’re their friend. And that’s all. It’s cool you did that thing, that time, whatever…but they aren’t really interested in that side of your life. You could (if they asked and you wanted to) explain awesome things about your book/art/project and they will digest your words with a semi-glazed look, rehearsing what they’re going to say next until it’s time to let that baby fly, then they will change the subject. I don’t get it. Why do you care so much? Okay, just stop talking so we can go back to the stuff that t hat I know about because I like to stay basic and don’t understand why people get so crazy about things. Sometimes this person is mentally incapable, busy, thinks they’ve had too much stimulation or stress to want to get involved with anything that requires pleasantries or thought.

Not big enough friend

Okay, you published a book with a small publishing house or you indie published it. They don’t know the industry or just how many self-published books are in the mainstream and are best sellers and even made into films but…the fact you did it yourself means no one believed in you enough soooo why should I? Really, it’s good you did that miniscule release but unless you have a 6 figure deal and I see your book in an established worldwide bookstore…I reserve my care factor. Indie publishing your book takes a lot of money, time and self marketing.  You are awesome. Fuck this person. I know it hurts a little when they have this attitude because you don’t have an hour to explain the ways the industry has changed or the amount of work you’ve done, but don’t worry. They are jealous because you had the balls to believe in yourself and put your money where your mouth is to pay for all the costs. They’re ignorant to the subject you’re involved in, that’s all. Just let them be, move on and let your work speak for itself. 😛

I have too much grown up stuff

They have kids or a mortgage or 150 cats to feed and a headache. Something else they have going on is more “adult” (from their perspective) and they need to do it so… Hey, that’s great, lucky you, I have to be at work 40 hours a week, you know how it is. My mortgage says I can’t do things like you can, time to think up a plot, I’m too tired by the time I get home, you know, cos I work so much. Cool. They chose to have things you don’t, and those things make it so they have to keep that afloat. They shouldn’t make those snide comments and backhanded compliments to you for choosing a different path because you know as well as I do, it comes with its own set of problems! No one has it easy, it’s just different from theirs. It can get frustrating but as the previous paragraph said, do your work and maybe it will speak for itself enough that they are inspired to one day take a break from their rat-race and do the same 🙂

Hang out with people who are always up for your next project. Don’t listen to the negative (unless it’s constructive,) and carry on. When you find people who genuinely want you to succeed, trust me, it’s the coolest feeling.  There will be people out there excited for you and who will cheer you on, people who are confident in their own abilities and paths and don’t see you as competition.  Don’t stop at the aforementioned types, even though many comments were saying they were surrounded by them. There are others who will inspire and encourage you to keep putting art out into the world.

 

 

 

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All content is no copyright infringement intended. All posts are opinion only and are subject to change due to experience, kicking ass and learning how to adult more effectively. If you don’t like it, don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya. Elements of original content may be reproduced with expressed permission from Ever Eden.

 

 

Cowboy.” 1, Traditional animal herder who tends cattle on ranches usually in the North American region.

2, Derogatory term describing someone who is reckless, ignores potential risks, irresponsible or who heedlessly handles a sensitive or dangerous task.

 

SWEAT GLUED AGENT TRENT STARR’S BLACK MDS SHIRT TO HIS BACK. No relief carried on feeble warm breeze sighing thick air across his face. It was like breathing through a soggy rag, sun beating down and surrounded by eye-watering azure blue. The back of the Red Tag building cast a shadow over half the rubber pitch he was standing on as he pushed his sleeves up and caught his breath across from the other guy. Watch the quadrant, he might go for his gun.

 

His black hair was hanging untied, damp and stringy around his neck and crawling on his skin. Sweat snaked by his bloodshot aurora-green eyes while he analysed the other guy’s movements. He tried to stay focussed but his body was battling fatigue and losing too obviously. He was out of form. It was time to end it because he was thinking about his next moves now, usually they just happened.

 

He exploded forward, a round kick to the guy’s ribs then a sloppy attempt at some sort of showy tornado kick, sorry and off-target. He expected miscalculation after almost an hour in desert sun. What he didn’t expect was to be countered instantly with a boot to the guts and hurled backwards clear of the pitch to skid along the jagged asphalt.

 

His elbow burst into flames, skin shredding on blistering serrated gravel as he tumbled and breathed in dust. His lungs squeezed against his ribs, hot pain drilling him to stay down. He didn’t know if it was pride or the fact the other guy snickered when he landed, but he launched himself up fast and bolted across to stare down from his six foot two frame like he was going to crush him. Maybe he was.

 

He blocked a shot to the body and then ended it with a slick takedown. It was completely over when Trent’s boot planted fast and hard on the guy’s chest and he’d pulled his Sig for a point-blank shot. The other guy stopped squirming and raised his hands immediately. The trigger resisted under Trent’s finger, double-checking he really wanted to fire.

 

“Whoa, okay! My back’s burning, let me up, Agent Starr.”

 

Hearing his name was a séance forcing him to re-enter his body from someplace else. He had to take a few breaths before he remembered he was sparring at HQ. It wasn’t life or death, and he shouldn’t have been scrapping with a live firearm present.

He blinked away sweat and took his foot off the other guy’s chest.

Shit.

He put the weapon up nice and easy like he’d only pulled it for effect, but strikes had been leaving his limbs near 75 percent, enough to land him in shit if he’d done the other agent damage and rendered him unusable…then he’d pulled a gun too? He didn’t say anything as he left the pitch and holstered his weapon. It was subpar all round. Luckily, the only person to witness his pathetic excuse for control and technique was that dopey fucker, Agent Reed.

When Trent looked back, the Green Tag was getting to his feet and brushing off dust. The ground around him wavered while he stood with his arms out, asking Trent ‘what the heck’ the problem was. Then Reed was on him like a ball and chain, watching him retrieve the black towel lying on the asphalt and wipe the sweat from his face and neck before putting his sunglasses back on. He waited until Trent was done, head tilted up to look him in the eyewear and squinting when Trent moved and he got a face full of sun.

 

“Appointment in the field,” Trent mumbled, “Excuse me.”

 

Reed stepped forward and blocked his path. He ran a clammy hand through his dirt-blonde hair and glanced at the other buildings.

 

“Has Number One cleared you?”

 

Trent let it ride for a few seconds then turned and left Reed sweating in the sun.

 

He’d wasted the whole goddam morning. Getting ready and finding a place where they probably wouldn’t be disturbed ate time, then it was on. He didn’t want to use some VR Training Sim, he wanted the real thing and he’d planned to spar Reed for half an hour, max, but it had ended up going for double–and that was on him–because he’d begun to take it more seriously than he should have.

 

Hitting Reed in the guts felt good. He was twenty one years old, could’ve been on the cusp of making Blue and advancing to the next rank if he was a reputable agent, but it wouldn’t happen for him anytime soon. The guy seemed oddly inexperienced. Other agents had been posted on The Outside or Deleted at least a couple of targets out in the field by his age but he acted like a Fobbit, like he’d never even left HQ.

 

 

 

 

 

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All content is no copyright infringement intended. All posts are opinion only and are subject to change due to experience, kicking ass and learning how to adult more effectively. If you don’t like it, don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya. Elements of original content may be reproduced with expressed permission from Ever Eden.