Tag Archives: writing

Alive, but infected with the Niche thing…

Posted on by

~The Outdooress~

Long time no write, ehh….Although, honestly, that’s nothing unusual in the repotoire of how I blog.

Disappearing for months on end has been one of the blog conditions I’ve come down with many times over my years of blogging. It’s sort of like getting a fever, one must lay low for awhile, regroup, and start again with a renewed system.

Usually when I go blog quiet, I’m off doing my little adventures, leaping mountains with a single bound or swimming across rivers in the pursuit of dimpled water.

This time my reasons for absence is pure adulterous blog behavior. I’ve been cheating on Provocation with a new blog I created to capture all my outdoor experiences.

I started my new site for several reasons. First the idea was planted in my mind by someone who writes in the outdoor field and he encouraged me to step up to the water line. Second, it made sense. I spend the vast majority of my time outdoors. For me, it’s a way of life and because of it’s niche like details, I didn’t write about it often on this blog. Here at Provocation I’ve occasionally mentioned when had been off on a week long hiking trip, or fly fishing for trout in some remote place, but on the whole, I understand my way of life isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, so I’ve kept it minimal and played down the best I could.

The thing is, I’ve always been as drawn to the outdoors as I am to writing, but I’ve neglected combining the two this entire time.  Now I am and I’m really enjoying it. In fact, I wish I had been doing it all these years. The short amount of time I’ve put into placing my outdoor observations into blog form has been extremely welcomed within the outdoor community. I’ve been offered some incrediable opportunities and I’m pursuing all my newly discovered options.

Maybe, just maybe, all these years as I’ve struggled to find purpose and direction for my writing, the answer was waiting patiently in my fly fishing creel the whole (damn) time.  I may have finally found my niche in this big old world.

If you would like to take a peek ~ The new blog link ~ The Outdooress

As for mentioning my new writing niche here, I understand what I’m doing over there is an individual type lifestyle and certainly not for everyone which is why I’ll need my Provocation. When I watch a woman walking down the street with a squirrel purse in one hand and a shit-zoo on a diamond leash hanging from the other, I must have an outlet for such moments or I’ll burst with observational notations that stack up in my mind ~

Messages For Every Occasion as well….

Finding my balance,
Rebecca Anne

Technical Writer, Death via paper cut

Posted on by

large_writeillRecently I was hired for a writing job. The hiring process went a bit like this……..

Evil: “Hey, you’re a writer, will you freelance a report for our company?”
Rebecca: “Oh, I don’t know, I write and all, but I really don’t think I’m that sort of writer.”
Evil: ” We’ll pay you XY plus Z for 50 pages.”
Rebecca: “Send over the contract, I am your gal!”

By page 5…I thought I would die. No, really….D…I…E…..
As in, take a letter opener, jab it into one eyeball, go stir crazy and paper cut my wrists until I bleed dry–Dead. Gone. DIE.

I didn’t know I would hate—no hate isn’t strong enough—despise, technical report writing when I sold my soul to the devil. I figured it might be boring and tedious, but I had no idea I would pray for a flesh eating bacterial infection or a bout of E.coli to get me off the hook. Nothing spells sympathetic job release like a call from the ICU in a hospital saying, “I’m sooo sorry, you’ll have to get someone else to do it, I’m conversing with death, no Wi-Fi, only IV’s.”

50 pages of mind numbing boredom. 50 pages of zero humor. I didn’t get to write the word ass one single time. I didn’t get to use a metaphor or crack a single snarky sentence over their corporate heads. I had to pay attention to grammar and use a spell check. I had to research the most boring information I’ve ever absorbed and despite the fact I became a lip strumming psycho by page 50, I fear I may have learned a few things about the Internet. Excuse me…… sorry, I think I just vomited a bit in the back of my throat.  

There’s a good chance I’ll carry a mental scar for the rest of my natural born writing life. It was so painful and internally traumatic that a person just doesn’t forget and move on. I fear the next person who says to me, “Hey, you’re a writer, right?” will witness me sticking my fingers in my ears and running as fast as I can the opposite direction screaming, find a happy place, find a happy fucking place………

Did I mention it was bad and that I didn’t enjoy writing a technical report?

I did learn a few things about myself during that paid writing torture. For one, I’d fall down dead before I’d admit failure or quit something even if it feels like someone is driving tiny red hot pokers into my skull every five minutes. And two, I am NOT a writer. Not that sort. Not even close. The people who write in that field must be a special breed of super patience. Personally, I’d rather exfoliate an entire elephant with a toothbrush than suffer that sort of writing job again.

Therapy ~ This is purely part of the ”healing the writer within me”, recovery program. I’m hoping it will help settle the night terrors and occasional gag reflex I’m still suffering.
Ass, ass, ass, ass, ass…..There now, I feel better already.

Better Believe It

Posted on by

Well Helllooooo Darlings, how’s it going? Whats up? Are we shakin and shimmerin? Does everyone have life by the balls, you know, the balls that we prefer rolling smoothly downhill and not being pushed up thee hypothetical hill? I do hope so. I’m of reliable authority on the matter of life balls (repeat:life) and can say, pushing them up a hill is rather tedious.

Over the last week or so, a few individuals have waved their magical wands and bestowed upon me various mentions and awards. Now, I know I’m notoriously bad, awful, most certainly lacking and downright borderline anti-social in the blogging world. (Fault admission by definition is the level of truth one willingly puts forth, not to be confused with excuses) However despite my social deficits, I do take notice, most certainly appreciate and always feel grateful for such mentions.

So without further tongue tripping, I’d like to publicly thank:

friendsDrey of Dreys Library for picking me out of her huge fan base for the “Lets be Friends award” Thank you!! I read the definition of this award and felt most humbled. Thank you for the smiles~

If you are a book lover, a giveaway seeker and enjoy reading reviews and insight to new books on the market this blog is for you. I for one have WON, as in chi-ching-winner-winner-winner, books from her site and was beyond delighted. Go check it out and may the book force be with you~

honest-scrapIndigo Roth from the illustrious Indigo Wrath Blog chased me down and pinned the Honest Scrap award on my forehead. When I realized what he had done I tried to come up with a quick lie that could get me out of it, but telling him I was really an Internet robot programmed to write occasional random and irrelevant words of subliminal messages didn’t seem believable, I figured I would accept. Thank you~

Indigo Roth has one good ear and an entertaining blog with some rather witty and interesting commentary. I suggest checking it out. Oh, and since I’m the honest soul let me remind the world~ Snicker Bars and Diet Coke are like, totally healthy~

superior scribbler awardDebra, Debra, Debra of Debra l Schubert sent my direction the Superior Scribbler Award. I take this as quite the compliment considering Debra is a real live, real deal, as in writes books, hobnobs with agents, goes to book conferences sort of writer.

In fact, I’d bet my favorite pen that Debra even has writers stench which I happen to think is a very admirable trait and I completely aim to emulate. In my humble opinion there’s nothing more divine than the aroma of a day full of writing.

Go visit her site, it’s always rockin good fun ~ Thank you Debra and ehhh, don’t take that writers stench the wrong way, it’s snort-able in the best of ways.  

So do I get a tiara with any of those? Or maybe a sparkly staff I can swing from the rock I’ve squatted on perhaps? Creepy, why is it when I typed those words a menacing voice spoke up in my mind and rumbled, “No sparkles for you, evahhh, rule breaker!”

 There’s a lot of rules, guidelines, terms and conditions that I’m pretending never existed with those above awards. Soo… I have a doctors note? I know, I’ve got me an internal defense system that revolts at reading instructions? My computer imploded when it realized I was trying to follow the proper steps? I got kicked off the cheer leading squad for doing an unauthorized back flip which has traumatized me for life in the rules department ? No? None of those excuses work? Ok, fine, back to the truth zone of personal admission. I suck.

Psstt….Snicker Bars and Diet Coke are the lifeline of humanity ~

A Hazy Shade of Lavender

Posted on by

 

108I’m not sure what it’s like for other people. I can’t say what their dark place of mental residence is decorated with or smells like. I don’t know how it tastes or how much it weighs on their shoulders. I do know it’s a place other people go.

I’m not sure if I can, or should, explain my personal brand of Lavender Black. There isn’t a map to show how I surrender to such a place, or how I eventually find my way back. It simply, happens.

I can say that naming my dark is an act of conventional word defiance. It’s my personal perspective; the condition may be ordinary, but I can name it and decorate it any way I please. Lavender Black isn’t a desirable destination, but it is a place. My place. It’s quiet there and the deeper I wander in, the fact is, the less I participate in the world around me.

Typically, I can still write while meandering through such a space of individual seclusion. Some of my best writing has originated from time spent in my lavender realm, but sometimes, I move past the threshold of expression and the result is silence. It’s where I’ve been these last few weeks, beyond the green fields and purple flowers. In this version, I walked deep into the black parts of Lavender and disappeared for awhile.

Going to Lavender Black is easy enough, coming back proves difficult. There’s something sadly comfortable about suffocating in a zone meant only for single occupancy. It’s a self indulgent territory dripping with familiarity and knowing. If there’s one place that covets a thousand reasons for being dark and twisty, it’s the back room in my mind that collects life’s little black trinkets like a chemically imbalanced pack rat.

Surface maintenance. That’s how I handle day to day reality when I’ve gone off into my place of silence. When a body is in trouble, it has the ability to shut off functions to everything but the vitals. I’ve fined tuned that perspective when it comes to the dark side of my personality. Vitals=Family and that’s the scope of my selective interactions during Lavender Black spells.

Either people will understand this about me, or they won’t. It’s nothing personal. Never has been. I understand that it isn’t easy to accept or understand, not when people interact and depend on feedback/input from one another. My occasional shut downs go against the human nature rules of engagement and I realize I always run the risk of hurting the feelings of other people when I dissolve into myself. Regrettably, my only recourse is to try and pick up the pieces once I’ve came back.

I’m not sure it serves any purpose by writing about this, here, publicly, other then disclosure. But it is who I am. A part of me, one I find both interesting and challenging. Just as I observe the world around me, it’s important I spend time observing my interior workings, the beautiful, the black and the unexplainable…….

She who goes Walkabout

Posted on by
Peace is a River

Peace is a River

 Paul has referred to me as, ‘she who goes walkabout’ a few times over the years. That’s a reference I’ll wrap around my persona and run with any day I can. Gone is good, gone is fun and gone is movement. My mind and body needs walkabouts, otherwise I do tend to go a bit stir crazy.

No one wants or needs to witness my personal brand of stir crazy, including me.

I had yet another fantastic time away which makes home life pale in comparison. The walls of my home feel bland and constricting compared to the expanse of life outdoors. I’m fairly certain at this point in my life, I could become a nomad. A rubbertramp who could live out of a truck and pull trailer with whatever I could stuff in. I could braid my hair, wrap a bandanna on my head and shower twice a week in a waterfall. Now, I’m not a radical… I wouldn’t try to live off the land. A life without Diet Coke and Oreo cookies would borderline unnecessary self deprivation. I may be off center, but I’m not insane.

Two Big Fish and a Rebecca

Two Big Fish and a Rebecca

I’ve done a lot of writing during this last month of travels. It’s not all fun, fishing and f*ckin off. I can be having the best of times, but my mind keeps writing sentences no matter what I’m doing and those sentences usually demand I stop and write them down. Writing is the most faithful companion to my ever wandering moods.

Sometimes I do wish my mind would write in trashy romance novel themes. It wouldn’t be so bad if I was standing on a bank fishing with 15 men and my brain was ticking off the sentences of a seedy sex scene with robust breasts and throbbing, well, you know……Then I could smile down the bank and laugh secretly to myself with my racy writing thoughts. I’m lacking the, ‘if only they knew’ potential of that sort of writing mind.

It’s time for me to attempt some major catching up with the reality of the world. I hope all is well and the summer is treating everyone in the most brilliant of beautiful ways.

I should mention, I’m now spending time over at RigginZ Outdoors~