I’m celebrating right now. In the great scheme of things my little victory is small fry; so small in fact that I’m a little embarrassed to mention it publicly for fear of being laughed at by ‘successful’ authors (what the fuck is a successful author anyway?). For me though, it’s a huge victory that bring a tear of triumph to my eye and helps my fragile self esteem to swell a micron further.
My scifi series, The Lilean Chronicles is three books into a four book series. Up until last week I gave the e-book versions away free. This was for many reasons. I know that, as an unknown writer the most important thing I have to do is get my name known, get a following and to do this, I need readers. People are reluctant to spend actual money on an unknown writer so I figured the easiest way would be to give them away. In the three books out so far, I’ve had over 5 hundred downloads whilst they were free. Another reason was lack of self esteem. I worry that people won’t like my work so I was scared to charge for it.
In recent weeks I’ve read articles and blogs from authors who say that they only started making money from their e-books when they gave their first book away free and charged a small price for the rest. A hook to reel them in so they’re happy to pay for more once they’ve sampled and liked the free bait. Then my cover art guy encouraged me to do the same so thought “what the heck, give it a go” so a few days ago I set my price at $1 for each and waited.
Tonight I sold 1 copy each of volumes 2 and 3 and made $1.40 and I’m so happy I could cry. To know that a complete stranger has made the conscious choice to spend their hard earned on my work, and also to know that they’ve obviously already read volume 1 and still chosen to spend their hard earned on a further 2 volumes, is priceless. It gives me a huge boost and when (not if. Note the positive vibe here?) I’m a rich and famous author with a swanky pad in LA, I shall remember this first $1.40 and smile and give a silent thank you to the universe. Every single dollar will be greeted with a grin and a punch in the air but this first $1.40 will always be special.
Dwayne Johnson has his famous $7 story and now I have my $1.40 story. Maybe when I’m entertaining him to lunch in my swanky LA pad we can swap stories of our poor days..!
FURYAN ARIA – the truth behind the shining eyes of Richard B Riddick
by Merita King
copyright Merita King September 2012
All rights reserved.
Alone I stand here surrounded by fear and hate.
Hunted across worlds by those seeking their pound of flesh
for what it will bring them in the market place.
There is no peace, no sanctuary to be found.
Left to die, a baby’s cry unheeded by the strong
as they fill trashcan after trashcan.
Monsters hold no fear for him, Claws, teeth, animal instincts, hunt or be hunted,
these he understands.
The last of his kind, the omega of a nation.
Climbed from the trashcan, unwound the cord.
Relentless retreat, running, always running
but that trashcan is always there.
Climb out of the trashcan and still believe.
Don’t get too close, you don’t know me, can never know me.
Always behind a wall, peeping out.
Kill, walk away and save yourself, no one will blame you.
But they blame you anyway and hunt, always hunt.
So run, run and hide behind that wall of stoicism
for they’ll never understand you anyway.
Gonna miss the party, c’mon.
But don’t you cry for me, not for me.
They killed everything he knew,everyone he pretended not to love.
Down in the dark, he sees clearly what must be done.
Take a life? Sure. Take that life? No.
Run, hunt or be hunted, always on the move.
A killer? A convict? A saviour?
Always the chase, the thrill of the chase across worlds.
Your brain shuts down in cryo sleep
But he’s still awake, awake in the trashcan.
Does he still believe?
Started out with a cord around his neck and still believes.
Fought for his life in the dark, but always saw it clear
when others were blind and stumbling.
Still believes.
They killed everything he knew, and he still believes.
You keep what you kill.
But you can’t kill the trashcan.
Click on the images to enlarge
Just what is physical beauty? Ask 100 people this question and you’ll get 100 different answers. They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder and this is one of the few oft quoted sayings that I truly believe to be true. Physical beauty follows trends in a similar way that clothing follows trends, although the physical beauty trends tend to last a lot longer than the clothing fashion trends do. In the past, to be thought of as beautiful, one had to be big. Thin women were thought of as symbolising an under nourished upbringing which meant they had no money. If you could afford to eat enough to be big, you were a good catch. In the same way at one time it was thought most unattractive to have a tanned complexion because it symbolised that you had probably spent a long time labouring in the fields, another sign of a lowly status in life. If you were pale, it showed you were rich enough not to have to toil out of doors. Many of the current trends are caused by celebrities and in our longing to be like them, we try to make our bodies look like theirs and so our opinions of what is beautiful, subtly change.
One of the current trends that has been slowly and quietly creeping its way into the top ten, is the issue of race. It is now accepted that it is most desirable to be, or appear to be, of mixed race. Mixed race people are thought of as the most beautiful and I have to admit that there is a sound physical reason for this. Every race has its own particular identity, things you can recognise as being of one race rather than another. They are generalisations of course but for instance the nose shape of the Jewish race, the eye shape of orientals and the nostrils of the black races. All of these and many others act as markers to tell us what race a person belongs to.
When two people from different races produce a child, that offspring will inherit traits from both partners and often the mixture results in a look that could never be achieved from either of the two parent races alone. This results in some stunningly beautiful people. Add to this is the current trend for a tanned complexion and you have the recipe for beauty and any combination of races will do the job, so long as one half is of black origins. Of course it’s not guaranteed to work, there is a famous actor of mixed race who has a twin that looks completely caucasian. I myself am technically mixed but I look completely caucasian. It’s just the luck of the draw.
In order to be accepted as even worthy of consideration, one has to be stick thin nowadays and the more bones poking out, the better. If you can play a tune on your ribcage, you’re streets ahead of anyone with a curvaceous body shape. This obsession with thinness has caused major problems for the younger generation of today, as we’re all well aware but even with this new awareness, we still don’t appear to be any nearer to changing this belief that thin is beautiful.
Height is one area of beauty that there doesn’t appear to be a definite majority viewpoint. Some men like petite women, some like statuesque ones. When asking women about height though, the vast majority of them will say their man should be taller than they are. I cannot imagine ever agreeing to go out with a man who is shorter than I am, it just wouldn’t happen no matter what the reward. I’ve never met a woman who has said that she’d be happy to date a man shorter than herself. I haven’t actually asked men, but I am confident enough to wager that most of them wouldn’t be too happy to date a woman who towers over them. It’s a question of male ego at the end of the day. A taller woman makes them feel less like the ‘king of the castle’.
There are some things that are so basic that they don’t need to be discussed at any length. Hygiene is one such area. No man or woman is attractive if they’re smelly or dirty. Without going into detail, I will just say that I did once know a woman who admitted that her husband found her most attractive if she didn’t wash too often! Some races have their own very unique traditions of beauty. Some pacific islanders cover their bodies in tattoos and scars and these are signs of status as well as beauty.
Of course 99% of all slaves to beauty are women and we put ourselves through all sorts of hell in the pursuit of acceptance and the affections of our chosen man. We spend our lives on permanent diets trying to achieve that stick thin quality that most men want these days. We survive on carrot sticks and cucumber slices in the hope that that hot guy in the office will ask us out on a date. When we find he’s already in a relationship with a woman who would make a bamboo cane look obese, we console ourselves with a family bag of Maltesers and a lardy cake. The next morning we feel guilty so out come the carrot sticks and cucumber slices again and the whole sorry cycle starts over. This weight/size issue is a strange one because I’ve met many men who have told me that they like curves on a woman and yet we all know it’s the bean sticks that men look at with approval. There are subtle racial differences to the weight/size preferences too. Many black and hispanic men like women with obvious hourglass figures – large breasts, tiny waists and round backsides. Just the sort of figure us caucasians find it hardest to achieve without surgery.
Women don’t seem to be as pernickety about weight/size as the men are. We women are happy to take a man with a bit of extra weight around the middle without it meaning we think any less of him. But then women are not as visually led as men are. A man sees you before he experiences you and his judgement of you will be formulated by what he’s seeing. A woman on the hand, experiences you without looking too closely first. Her judgement of you will be based on your character and behaviour first and looks second. If a man looks at you and likes what he sees, he will then decide whether to get to know you further or not. If he doesn’t like what he see’s then he will not bother to even ask himself whether he wants to get to know you better. That’s not a criticism, it’s just the way men are made.
Over the years I’ve done so much to try to make myself more acceptable physically. As with most women, I’ve dyed my hair, grown my hair, cut my hair, dieted, worn make up and clothing designed to accentuate my good points (whatever they are) and hide the bad (a bin bag would work here). Over the years my hair has been every colour, style and length imaginable and I’ve been fat and moderately slim and all places in between. All of the things that are wrong with me though, are those that cannot be changed. My racial look for instance. As I said before I’m technically mixed race but you’d never know by looking at me. I look caucasian and I’ve missed out on that lovely golden skinned, almond eyed look that would take me straight to the top of the looks chart. I don’t tan easily either and over the years I’ve spend many weeks in the agony of sunburn, only to suffer the itching of peeling skin for weeks afterwards and then find I’m just as white underneath it all as I was before.
Yes I can diet, and I am doing. I’ve lost a stone so far and very proud of my achievement. I still have 3 stone to go until I weigh what I regard as an ideal weight for my height. I’ve long since given up with my hair and now keep it in a short crop in it’s natural brunette. I’m not yet going grey but my hair is naturally very fine so all of the styles we women want, are out of my league. If I had money, and lots of it, I could achieve much more of the look I desire. I’m one of those women who is all for cosmetic surgery. But only if it’s done for yourself, rather than for someone else. I want to look a certain way because I want to look into the mirror and like what I see. I want to find myself attractive. If I won the lotto, I’d have loads of surgery.
I’m still hoping that one day fashion will dictate that the most beautiful women are pale, large around the middle, have over large round eyes and prominent chins and short fine hair. At the same time I still long to find my ideal man who is at least 5 feet 10, mixed race, very muscular and looks like he’s been carved out of a shithouse wall. The problem is of course that a man like that could have his pick of women and he wouldn’t look twice at me.
Oh well, guess I’d better get used to being an old maid.
I am on facebook every day, for quite a significant amount of time. If I’m not actively working my page, then I’m checking it every half hour or so just in case. Just in case of what I don’t know but facebook is addictive as we all know and, well you have to check your page often don’t you…?
One thing that constantly amazes me is the way people are hurt or offended by the actions or words of other people. It’s as if the general population really do expect everyone to be nice, friendly and helpful all of the time and when they’re not, they’re surprised, hurt and angry. The thing that people just don’t seem to grasp, is that people aren’t nice, friendly and helpful. In fact people are normally the opposite and I’ve found that to expect otherwise is idiotic at best, and downright suicidal at worst. It’s a dog eat dog world out there and the internet revolution has enabled us to be more vindictive than we ever thought possible back in the day when we had to actually converse with people face to face. When I was growing up I had to actually talk to people and if I had a problem with anyone I had to deal with it and them physically. Being a non confrontational sort of person meant I tended to let things slide more often than not but conflicts did occur from time to time and when they did, I had nothing to hide behind. Nowadays the internet allows us all to be brave, pro active and downright aggressive if we desire to be, and the temptation must be extreme if you are the sort of person that has never had the balls to actually confront anyone in person. It’s so easy to be assertive online that anyone can do it.
People are now able to show their true colours like never before and so many are taking full advantage that an average day on facebook is tantamount to going into battle. Each and every day I piss at least one person off and get pissed off by at least another couple. Facebooking is fast becoming a stressful way to spend my spare time. There are so many weird and wonderful people on the internet and the popularity of social networking sites such as facebook make it so easy for these people to make their presence felt. when I was growing up, each town had it’s fair share of weirdos and oddities and they tended to keep themselves to themselves and everyone knew to keep out of their way, but nowadays the internet has given them the opportunity to scream their weirdness to the masses worldwide and they are taking full advantage.
With the ability to create completely false identities, social networking sites allow us to be whomever we want to be without the ever present chance of being found out that we had to worry about back in the day. One can create any number of facebook accounts and every one of your alter egos gets it’s voice heard..! Equally astounding is the fact that so many of these weirdos have entourages of willing and flaccid hangers on who make all the right noises and so encourage the weirdness even further. Many of them are just so weird that they are funny and it is not these that I worry about. The ones that worry me are the ones who use the internet to bully and demean others who may not have the ability to stand up for themselves. I have been bullied a few times on facebook and I admit that at times it has upset me to know that there are people out there who get a kick out of having influence on the emotions of other people without the possibility of a backlash. As time goes on I get more used to it and am able to brush it off more easily these days but I often see others who are obviously terribly upset at something one of their ‘friends’ has said to them. When you don’t have to worry about whether you are going to get a knock on the door, it’s so easy to express your darkest emotions at the expense of another and for every one that disappears off your facebook ‘friend’ list, there are ten others who will agree and laugh with you.
It’s as if we, as a species, are losing the ability to converse naturally. Nowadays we don’t write letters, we don’t phone people and we don’t talk and it wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if we didn’t soon evolve without mouths at all…! With texting, e mails and now social networking, what use are mouths..? Without the visible feedback from conversing face to face, how can people learn how to behave socially? Human beings are social creatures; we are pack animals and cannot survive alone but today’s lifestyle seems to be trying to make us into solitary creatures. This can only lead to our downfall and at worst, it could mean the breakdown of society in general as we continue to do our interacting virtually and without the instant feedback that physical interaction gives us. I now find myself feeling more at ease communicating via text, e mail or social networking than I do on a face to face basis and that is worrying.
In order to try to counteract this, I have a little thing I do sometimes that helps me. Whenever I have to pop out to the shop I make a pact with myself that I will make myself actually converse with someone, anyone, about anything at all before I get back home. This has become easier over time and now it’s not so much of a problem for me as it was when I first tried it. Even if I just say a couple of words to someone at the checkout, so long as I actually talk and make something resembling a conversation, I go home happy with myself. Conversation is a dying art and I want to try to keep it alive if I can.
So what’s that got to do with being aggressive online..? Well it’s all about being real as opposed to being fake and that’s the relevant point here. Most of us wouldn’t have the nerve to be aggressive to people face to face as quickly as we do online. That’s because when we talk and interact face to face, we have to consider the other person’s feelings and we have to be aware that if they react badly to what we say or do, we may get either embarrassed or hurt or both..! Because most of us are cowards at heart, we don’t want to be embarrassed or punched in the face, so we moderate our language accordingly and that is what is missing when we interact online.
It is human nature to be a bit competitive. We have this inner need to keep up with the Jones’s and be better than the next person but when it’s done online without the usual signals that encourage us intuitively to moderate our language or actions, it quickly and easily gets out of control and that’s when people get hurt. When you are constantly having your feelings hurt by comments online, it can influence how you interact when you do meet people face to face and any reactions you display then influence the other person, who then has their feelings hurt and so they carry that to their own interactions, and so on and so forth. In this way, the social structure of modern society slowly and inexorably begins to crumble until we have de-evolved into the grunting savages that we so proudly proclaim to have left behind.
The one thing that you can never get across online, is the subtle meaning of your words. You may have meant it as a joke, but your written words alone often don’t get such subtleties across and more often than not, people get the wrong end of the stick and take offence even where none was intended. I’ve had this happen to me many times and have learned to make an effort to make sure the intended meaning of what I’m saying, is obvious in my comments. I’ve had my jokes and funny comments taken completely the wrong way and have had irate ‘friends’ sending me angry emails more than once. Conversely, there have been times when someone has pissed me off so much that I have fully intended to piss them off in revenge, but they’ve either refused to take the hint or just ignored it.
It just goes to show that the human ego is a fragile thing and the internet gives us a never before seen opportunity to take advantage of that. Whether we do that with good intentions or bad, is down to each individual at the end of the day but I fear that now the revolution has begun, there’ll be no going back. I fear for our social structure and am noticing more and more that the internet is making me more reclusive each and every day..!
I’m not often at home at the right time to watch the Jeremy Kyle show and when I am, most times I don’t bother to watch it. When I do watch it, I find it compulsive viewing for all the wrong reasons. This is the kind of show everyone says they hate but they can’t stop watching it and I’m the same.
I like Jeremy Kyle himself; I like his style and delivery. He’s not like those other talk show hosts who dither and faff around his guests. He tells them direct, he says what we’re all thinking and he takes no prisoners. He’s funny with it and sensitive where and when sensitivity is called for, most of the time. There are times though when he annoys me. Sometimes I feel he goes too far with his aggressive act and there are times when I feel he belittles people just a bit too much.
It is a constant source of amazement to me what people will happily admit to just to get on the telly. Everyone wants their fifteen minutes of fame and even if it means you have to admit to having anal sex with your girlfriend’s brother’s friend’s landlord’s dog walker at seven thirty in the evening on the common whilst your eight month old triplets are left alone to fend for themselves for a fortnight, that’s okay so long as you get on the telly! Really, have these people no shame at all? If I’d done anything remotely similar to some of the stuff the folks on this show admit to, I wouldn’t go out of my house for a year and when I finally did, it would be after dying my hair, donning a huge sombrero and enormous sunglasses! Maybe it’s just me being overly shy but where the heck has dignity gone?
Some people say they pay people to over act and make their situations more dramatic than they are already and that may be so, we’ll never know but it certainly is compulsive viewing. I find myself doing what my parents used to do when I was young; what used to make me think of them as right old fuddy duddies. I sit here and shake my head sadly as I say to myself “jeez what has happened to the youth of today.” I now sound like my mother, which is a frightening thought but I have to admit I now finally understand what she meant all those years ago. Sorry mother!
The first tv show of the Jeremy Kyle ilk, was that one run by Robert Kilroy Silk, remember him? Didn’t he vanish from our screens after some kind of scandal? I can’t remember but I loved his show. It was revolutionary at the time and it was great when things got a bit heated and some of the audience started shouting and ranting at each other. We’d never seen such things on our screens before and we were captivated. I will never forget the one where the old guy in the front row didn’t realise his flies were undone and no one else bothered to tell him.
Then we had Vanessa Feltz and her show that ended in scandal after she admitted they paid people to act up to increase the drama. That was a shame as I liked her show alot; her style of interviewing was witty and light. Tricia was another one, although I didn’t like that show as much as the others. She was the first one who was actually qualified to do such a show, as she was a trained psychologist or psychotherapist or something along those lines.
Then along came the American versions of these shows with their loud music and razzamatazz. Oprah, Ricky Lake, the old guy with the blond hair, the black guy with the funny name and the older gal with the glasses, Sally something her name was. The trouble with lots of shows of this type is that they often fall into a pattern of same old same old and not enough variety of topical issues we can all discuss and learn about. With Jeremy Kyle it’s DNA and Lie Detectors, with Ricky Lake it was makeovers and with that black guy it was reunions – too much of the same that quickly gets boring.
The thing that I have learned through watching Jeremy Kyle is that no matter how low my self esteem may get and however dire my material circumstances may become, I have more self respect and dignity in my left earlobe than most of the guests on his show seem to have and just knowing that fact raises my self esteem a few points. There was one episode where a gal wanted Jeremy and his team to help her alcoholic mother to stop having one night stands every night. Jeremy interviewed a tearful mature daughter about her mother’s escapades before announcing the mother and bringing her onto the stage. In walks this pensioner of 62 wearing a far too large sleeveless t shirt, which she then proceeds to raise above her head and give everyone a full frontal view of her naked breasts that were hanging down below her waist. She had no teeth, her face was very wrinkled, she wore no make up and obviously hadn’t shaved her legs in over a decade, but she was somehow able to have one night stands nearly every night after raising a few jars in the local of an evening. If that was my mother, rather than take her on national tv to broadcast her exploits to the world, I’d move to the other end of the country and change my name!
In the old days of Robert Kilroy Silk and Vanessa Feltz, when this type of tv show was a new concept, they discussed things, shared opinions and tossed ideas around but now it’s just ‘hop in, do a DNA test, into the next room for a lie detector and hop out again’. It’s boring now and we’re more than ready for either a change of tactic with these shows or a change of show altogether. These shows no longer stimulate my brain, they don’t make me think about how I’m living my life or whether I’m doing as good for myself as I could be. They just make me angry at my fellow man, embarrassed to be the same species as these numbskulls and sickened by how low my species can sink!
My mother is staying with me at the moment. She lives in Cornwall and I’m in Hampshire, so we don’t get to see each other that often. A chance conversation just now has sparked a train of thought that is interesting – to me anyway, as someone who’s ‘into’ people and what makes them tick.
I’m a huge fan of Vin Diesel and more accurately, his character Riddick. Mother knows this and humours me, although she loves the Fast & Furious series herself. Anyway, Vin and ‘the crew’ are over here in London at the moment, filming the latest in the FF series – number 6. One of my facebook contacts lives and works in London and he commented that the set is besieged by hoards of screaming females and this sparked a conversation between mother and I.
Much as I love the big guy, I would never travel to join a throng of a thousand screaming females, be stuck at the back and only see him from half a mile away, not be noticed by him anyway and never get to meet and chat with him at the end of it. Why? There are several reasons. Firstly there’s no point if I can’t get near enough to have a chat, get an autograph or a photo and the slim possibility of seeing my hero as big as a pin head from the back of a crowd of screaming women, really doesn’t blow my skirt up. Secondly, the fact that I would never get anywhere near would disappoint me if I’d made all the effort to get there and who wants to go and see their hero, only to return feeling disappointment? Third, and most pertinent of all, I worry that meeting him for real would entail me finding out he’s not worthy of my admiration after all.
Over the time I’ve been a fan, there have been times when Vin’s well publicised behaviour has annoyed and disappointed me and back when facebook pages allowed comments and threads and he interacted with us there, when he behaved like a dick, I told him so. I have already had my admiration for another male actor smashed to pieces by his own behaviour and I don’t want to lose my love for Riddick by seeing Vin ignoring those of his fans who aren’t seventeen and scantily clad and generally behaving like a arrogant prick.
I’ll stick with my photos and dvd’s and my own vivid imagination – the place where everyone does as I want them to, where I am beautiful and loved.
I’ve just seen a photo on my facebook wall about a couple who were arrested after being discovered having sex in the back of a Buick. Now I’m all for being discreet but it’s not what they were doing that bothers me, it’s the comments underneath the photo that have enraged me.
The man was in his 50’s and the woman was 71. When the cop asked what they were doing (naked in the back of a car..? Helloooooo..!) the man replied “I’m f***ing this chick.” The vast majority of the comments attack the woman for her physical appearance, state that she obviously hasn’t had sex in a very long time and may never have it again, give the opinion that she isn’t worthy of attention by any man because of her age and state the belief that the man’s male friends will forever tease him for wanting to have sex with her.
The woman has white hair and her skin has a few wrinkles but her eyes are bright and full of expression, she has fantastic bone structure and her smile is radiant. She is slim and is a remarkable ambassador for a woman of 71. So why the ‘ugly’ and “eww” comments? Why has she obviously not had sex in years? Why should the man be embarrassed to have had sex with her? Sex is not a privilege afforded only to the under 40’s, it should be a physical expression of mutual pleasure, joy, attraction and love and those of us over 50 deserve to have those experiences just as much as anyone else. It incenses me that women are seen as immediately unattractive as soon as we hit the big five oh and those in the media spotlight are largely to blame for this distorted view the younger generation have of how people should and shouldn’t behave.
So many male celebs toss their women aside for a young, brainless Belsen victim just because she doesn’t have any lines around her eyes, or because she may have grey hair that it seems normal nowadays to ‘trade her in for a younger model’ every few years. The younger generation who look to these celebs for inspiration as to how to act, get a very distorted and dangerous view of how to handle relationships and how to view women and our place in society. One very well known American actor tossed his wife and daughter aside for a well known ‘celeb whore’ he’d been cheating for ages with, just because she was younger and unlined.
The only thing that gives me any sense of calm is the knowledge that within a few years this actor will no longer have those huge biceps that years of steroids have given him. His pec implants will look ridiculous above his ageing, sagging paunch and as he goes for the first of many facelifts he will find those brainless but unlined Belsen victims are no longer interested in hearing his hoary old catchphrases or admiring his cabinet full of awards. The hollywood whores will be lining up outside the hotel rooms of younger, taughter buttocked beefcake and his beautiful, mature wife will be a successful business woman with a healthy sex life with her younger lover while his daughter will be embarrassed to be seen with him.
It’s not me, I know I’m ugly and will never attract a man worth having, but women in general are being written off as not worthy just because of the time they’ve been on the planet and those with the power to inspire a generation into a healthier way of interacting, are teaching the younger generation to be more negatively judgemental.
These male celebs make me sick…!
Merita King 