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JamesSavik

throwing in the towel

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As for writing, I quit.

It's a waste of time- and a lot of it.

You know that you just ain't got it when you post a sample of something that you've been working on for months and it gets ZERO feedback.

It's too much energy for no return.

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I'm sorry, James, I think I must have missed it.

I gather you're working on a story and you posted an excerpt, hoping for comments?

I don't remember reading that, and I do generally reply when there's a request from an author for feedback.

I just did a quick scan of the 'Writer's Workshop' and I can't find your post. Where is it?

Don't give up writing because you're disappointed in this. Forgive me for saying so, but you're over-reacting, perhaps because you're upset. You may feel differently when the dust settles.

Let me know where your excerpt is and I'll certainly give you my comments for what they're worth!

Bruin with the very best of wishes for your future writing.

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I'm sorry, James! I simply didn't understand what it was.

You listed it as an experiment. Then you posted more or less the same thing twice. Then you posted a list. Taken together, I was more confused than anything else. And, or course, if this was a story, there should be much more, so I was waiting to comment till I read some of the 'more' and had a better idea what this experiment was all about.

I will say, belatedly I admit, I very much liked the first post. As Trab commented, it was better with 'win their hearts' included than it was without. But it started as a warm, fuzzy story, and I expected more of the same. A good beginning.

Cole

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CC from my blog entry: Why is James acting like a Crazy Bastard

______________________________________________________

There's something I haven't discussed with anyone here that's eating me up.

I found out that the person who the character "Scotty" from my novel Broken was based on died November 12. I didn't get word until almost a week later.

Growing up he was like my little brother, best friend and even a lover for a time. I didn't even find out in time to go to the funeral. I didn't get to say goodbye and damnit we had so much that we needed to be said.

That was what was boiling inside me while Thanksgiving and Christmas were going on.

I'm human and I'm hurting and I need to go away for a while. Step away and do some things to heal the hurt.

I am experiencing greif but I'm stuck in the anger part of it and as such I'm no good to anyone.

I am also experincing something called survivors guilt and that the real bitch that's eating me up.

Everything hurts and I really don't know what to do about it.

It's odd. I hadn't seen "Scotty" in a couple of years. I spoke to him on the phone last summer. Now that he's gone, I've never felt so lost and alone.

That's it. My guts are spilled. That's why I've been so erratic lately. There's people here that deserve better, or at least an explaination and an appology. I'm sorry for being a bastard but right now that's all I know how to be.

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James:

Several of us felt your anger and didn't know the cause, but felt very badly for you. I'm so sorry for your loss and obvious pain.

I hope you do take the time you need to heal. I don't know that the pain does entirely go away, but it can make us more aware of the life around us in all its complexity.

You're a very good man who is hurting, and when you are, we all do.

Take care. Come back when you can. You're part of us.

Cole

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Don't beat yourself up for feeling anger, that's a natural part of grieving, maybe even a necessary part. And thanks for posting to let us know what's up - not, maybe, an easy thing to do. Doing that, if nothing else, makes you one of the good guys.

I hope you come through this in due course and hope to see you back with us as soon as.

Best wishes

Bruin

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I'm sorry, James! I simply didn't understand what it was.

You listed it as an experiment. Then you posted more or less the same thing twice. Then you posted a list. Taken together, I was more confused than anything else. And, or course, if this was a story, there should be much more, so I was waiting to comment till I read some of the 'more' and had a better idea what this experiment was all about.

I'm in with Cole here. I didn't realize it was ready for interaction yet.

As for your personal issue, I commented directly on your blog.

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James, I'm sorry to hear about your friend Scotty, my condolences.

As to your post of "Sheba," I as Cole, was waiting for more to be written. I really only had one comment that was in some way I thought ninny picky: Cats do a figure eight between your legs, more so than at your feet. See, I told you it was ninny picky.

Please, do take care of yourself.

Warm thoughts and warm regards.

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James, it's always tough when someone you know, especially someone you love, dies. It takes time to get over it, and while friends can help it's something you have to process and finally accept on your own. Remember that you have friends here, and if and when you want to talk we're here to listen.

Colin :lol:

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I came in late on this, James. Don't ever give up -- give us a poke and a prod, and tell us what you want us to read and where.

I saw a piece of the story about the cat elsewhere, but I assumed there was more coming. I had no idea you were going through a bad time. It's always rough to lose a friend -- even more so if there was unfinished business there, like a conversation you wish you'd had. Regrets and missed opportunities.

I'm very sympathetic to this. I lost contact with a couple of good friends of mine in the early 1990s. We played phone tag a few times, but for various reasons -- too much work, lousy schedules, etc. -- we weren't able to do more than briefly chat every so often. In one case, I finally called one guy's business, only to find out he had died six months previously. The death announcement never appeared in the paper, there was no funeral, nothing. The guy who answered the phone didn't even know the circumstances of my friend's death. I was pretty mad about it... but what can you do?

There's a couple of other people I was close to to in the 1980s who just kinda "slip-slided away," as the old song goes. I've searched for them on the net, but in two cases, they had very common names, so they'd be almost impossible to find. On the other hand, they're not exactly rushing to find me, so it's kind of up to them.

I guess the lesson learned is, appreciate the friends you have as often as you're able. But also bear in mind what somebody I know tells me once in awhile: "to have a friend, you have to be a friend." It's a two-way street. The other guy has to reach out from time to time, too, so it's not all your fault.

Hang in there. Maybe there's a way you can turn this into a story -- maybe write down what you'd like to tell this person, and fictionalize it. If nothing else, it's good therapy. I'm thinking about basing a minor character in my new novel on one of my deceased friends; in fact, I'm going to make a note of that right now and do that. I bet he'd get a kick out of it if he knew what I was up to.

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