Hello, 2016

This is going to be short and sweet, because the gist of my goals this year is to simplify. For the last several years, I have boxed in my goals. I have set numbers and measures, and that has been fantastic. However, some things can't be counted, and I think it's time to deal with some of those. These goals may seem vague compared to previous years, but I hope that by allowing myself some freedom I can actually reach further.

This year, my resolutions are simple.

1) I am going to work on my body and mindset towards exercise. I'm not just going to lose weight to look better or to help control my diabetes, I am going to become more active in general and let that drive other improvements. This year, my goal is to find 1-3 activities that I enjoy. I don't see me being a gym person, so I'm going to explore active things to do that are a better fit.

2) I am going to do as much good for my community as I can. I am going to help welcome refugees to the area and do everything I can to help them settle and flourish. I'm going to help the homeless and the hungry, and I will make as big of a difference as I can. No restrictions. No goals.

3) I am going to uncover three major things that the citizens of Springfield need to know. I have no idea what those things might be. I am going to research, look for clues, think creatively, and find stories that matter.

4) I am going to expand my writing into four new markets. They may not all be published in 2016, but to qualify they must be accepted in 2016 (I can't help that some people get articles 4-6 months in advance). I'm going to cold call and submit and branch out into new areas.

5) I am going to take one writer who wants my help and dedicate myself as a mentor. Rather than help coach 5-10 throughout the year, I'd like to take one person with great potential and help them realize their goals, and pay back to the craft that has made my life so wonderful.

Bonus Bucket List Wish: To perform such good work that I make a measurable and noticeable difference.

That's it. My challenge this year isn't to take it easy, but to take these wide open parameters and see how much good I can do when I have nothing driving me except positive results.

Goodbye, 2015

My God, where do I begin? This year kicked my ass sideways, and I put up one heck of a fight.

School was a mighty struggle this year. I put a lot of work in, but bit off more than I could chew. I had to drop a class and realign my priorities to get across the finish line. But I did.

This year, I had things happen that I never thought would be possible. I lost my temper and publicly lost my shit for about a month. People from all around the world showed their understanding and support. Through this I managed to change my career trajectory, quite by accident. I met people who are making our city better. I came across some amazing stories this year. I didn't ask for these stories, but when I started digging I realized I had come across some important things. I don't measure my success in number of hits, but I did manage to get my name out there.

There were surreal moments. When I found myself on a Facebook meme, I was hilariously and horribly amused. A lot of people hated me who didn't know me, but a lot of people liked me and got to know me, so in the end I managed to take every sour situation and turn it into a win. I got rape threats, violent threats, and was called the Whore of Springfield. I mean, really??  Yes, really. Most of the time I was able to either ignore it altogether or turn it into a joke. It was definitely an experience, one I am pretty sure I am going to repeat in 2016. I don't think my haters are going anywhere.

I made a major career decision in working transparently, a decision I will stick with and let it speak for my credibility and principles. Liars hide, I have no reason to, so unless there is a very good reason I operate in full public view. I learned that readers respect this, and many have gone so far as to offer suggestions. I have great communication with my readers, and this has given collective minds a place to ask questions and get involved. If I learned anything this year, it is that many people yearn to make a difference if they can only figure out how.

This was my most successful year yet. Despite an occasional false start or misstep, I made great professional strides. Not just who I write for or how much I get paid. I realized people came to me asking for words and I was filling a need. When I was blowing up Facebook and Twitter, women were thanking me left and right for giving them words to frame their arguments. I did what I thought was impossible- I occasionally won an argument on the Internet. I actually did change a few minds. Though I generally write to express my own thoughts, it was rewarding to see some people I respected stick with me and come to new conclusions. When I laid down the proof on GO:61 and their questionable practices, I backed it with enough evidence to stop an entire force cold. Crickets. I worked the entire case in the public eye, while they hid the best they could. I showed what independent journalism could do, and I feel like I tested myself to make sure this was what I felt called to do, and the answer was yes.

Though we had some challenges, we had more ups than downs this year. My husband got an official chef title, which is years ahead of schedule. I changed jobs and found a great fit that keeps me pleasantly challenged and with a lot of freedom. I miss my old coworkers but I love my new ones, and everyone is still in the same building. I have always liked my job, but now I am extra happy and feel like this is where I ought to be.

Though a lot happened this year, and the bulk of it went my way, I cannot help but feel it is a setup for a far busier year to come.

RESOLUTIONS:

I did not finish my collection of essays, but I still made progress. I'm 2/3 done and should be ready to publish by summer, when I go back to school.

I did reorganize and completely develop my online office, all communication tools. I have my systems firmly switched over, and my office supplies runneth over. I have tested all of my changes and so far they've been great.

I did my random acts of kindness, one major one per month, and one minor one per week. I occasionally chose someone I knew but more often than not I would find a total stranger to help, and gave them a good deal of thought as to what would help the most.

I exceeded my writing goals, which makes me happy since I thought I was setting them pretty darned high. CBS Local has increased my assignments, and I am still freelance and set my own terms.

I ended the year at the weight I wanted. I didn't lose any more  than that, but I made it with one pound to spare.

So with one notable exception, I met or exceeded my resolutions. I'm going to call this year a tremendous win and hope my momentum launches me into a solid 2016.

Why Was I So Angry? (Reflections on Springfield MO, Burnett and GO:61)

As the year begins to wind down, I'm looking back at what all has happened and drafting my end of the year post. A whole lot of crazy stuff has happened, for sure. A lot of people think I'm this raging activist and I swear I'm not. This year, however, I was angrier than I have ever been. Ever, in my whole life. And I'm still angry, it just burns deeper and makes coals that fuel what I do. Today, while time stood still in the waiting room from hell, I identified a core problem that has manifested itself in a thousand smaller problems. And one question I have never really answered was the one everyone asked: why are you so angry?

It wasn't ever about nipples. And for me personally, it was about so many things I had to really dig deep to puzzle it through. Today I had hours to kill today in a waiting room, so I finally had that kind of time. I mean, it wasn't blind rage, I had good reasons to be angry. But I had not taken my time to really work through the whole "tweets of fury" thing and analyze it to understand it thoroughly. This is only from the angle of why was I so angry. There will be "why were you so skeptical" and "why did you punch so hard" posts to come later that will tell it from those perspectives. Because this was only a tiny part of my problems with what went down in our local government and charities putting out unverified information. This is just about why I was so angry that it came off me in waves.

Ultimately, my rage comes back to this: I am furious because people want me to be afraid. On a small scale, I've been threatened this year alone with being raped into making sense, beaten into making sense, and being held against my will while someone coerced me into agreeing with them. On a bigger scale, the world wants me to be powerful but "ladylike" (a word whose definition changes from person to person so I'm encouraged to play it safe and not risk offending anyone), strong but not so strong I make anyone uncomfortable, and intelligent but not show up the wrong people by speaking my mind if I know better. I was supposed to sit in the back row, be quiet and courteous and if I played just right, maybe someone would listen to me if I followed all the subliminal cues and asked nicely.

Ain't nobody got time for that. And I found out the day my city voted against me as a full citizen and learned that Burnett was going to use this new tool to squash a legal protest, that I just gave my last fuck about what someone might think of me. I was going to say what I thought, and own the consequences. There came a point when I committed and decided I would rather go down fighting than stand by and do nothing. We were suddenly lesser people by our own city's law, and that could not go unchallenged. Women pay the same amount of taxes, but now we have to make sure we don't cause "affront or alarm" or we risked having our morals judged and sentenced on a whim. The fact that our rights were even being voted on was sickening to thousands of women who watched and hoped and were eventually let down. They literally created a fashion police to keep women obedient.

This understanding of trying to scare women into obedient submission is the root of a problem that has held us back for... well, since forever, since that conditioning starts in childhood. Then my city passed a law that said making people uncomfortable with my choices in dress was illegal. IF they decided to enforce it. The "if" was supposed to make "the right ones" feel better while "the bad women" had a lingering threat to keep them in line. Then Burnett recommended a half-baked charity that among its many claims stated that women could be ordered up like pizzas. Helpless women, stupid and needing rescued, those defenseless little things. Except they never produced a single woman who vouched for their service or the quality of help received. Still, women's credibility as capable beings took a ding while nearly everyone swallowed this load of bull without question. Though GO:61 has shown themselves to be cowards who consider questions like "how much money has been donated this year?" and "how much of that goes out in direct aid?" too aggressive. Well, no. I disagree. If someone is going to assert that 600 women are for sale like pizzas and that is double from the month before, that person had better be ready to show their math. They refused.

I had a good friend tell me when she spoke to her husband about discrimination she experiences, and he simply dismissed it with "no, you don't." That was it, subject closed. In his superior knowledge, he had the nerve to tell his life partner what her experiences are in a workplace he has never seen. Dismissed without a bit of thought about the possibility that she knew something he didn't about it. Because it was her own fucking story she was telling him, I'm just guessing she had some facts to impart. That kind of dismissal happens all the time. Each one hurts like hell. "I know something." "No, you don't. Go make me a sandwich." RInse and repeat and wonder why we get so emotional. More of that conditioning for you. And this was from a nice guy, I should mention. One of the good ones, so imagine what all the wives of average and subpar husbands deal with.

All of those things happened in a two week span. No. NO. Never, no, no fucking way.

I decided to fight back by refusing to give in. I am not afraid someone is going to scoop me up and take me away. I'm not afraid of some stupid flashing light on my cell phone and would never blame an innocent business for my hysteria. I refuse to be cowed and I will not back down. I'll call a bluff every time, because I have earned that right. I am competent, strong and a fully developed person in my own right. I don't owe the world my best outfit every day and a smile when I don't feel like it. I am held to the same standards as men, and therefore I demand the same rights. When my very own councilman tried to make me worry that my boobs might get me arrested, I had finally hit my limit. So I put it to the test.

I was (partly) right, too. The first thing that hit was a wall of intimidation. Threats by the gazillions flooded my Facebook inbox, where the bulk of this took place. Some came through my site, but the worst were always through Facebook. I didn't take it to heart, I just blocked them if they crossed crazy lines and went on. But I read every single one, because I feel obligated to read every word sent to me. It was hard as hell to not be afraid of that, especially when it was at its peak. But when I decided I wasn't going to be afraid and held it, they quickly ran out of ammo and faded away. And that was it. A flutter, a scream, and dead silence afterwards. Some tried to keep a banter going, but they were weeded out quickly.

So now I know what to do to combat the source of my rage. I'm going to wear whatever I want, say whatever I want, and I goddamn dare someone to try to stop me. Because if my mailbag had any themes in common, it was thanks for giving words to the ideas that many women were thinking, and secondly for standing up and saying "oh hell no." Women I've never met still write to me regularly, taking baby steps in standing up for themselves, and it all started with one little dipshit who can't understand the difference between scripture and law for all citizens of all types. After the ACLU is done with this, it will likely all be rolled back to how it was before. What will have changed is that there are new people paying attention to what goes on around here.

I guess I'll shut up and get back to it. When you find yourself waiting for hours, some people sleep and some people write the mother of all blog posts on their phones. But here's one that I feel I can answer and do it justice. This all happened so fast, and there were so many things I said I'd answer when I could take some time to do it right.

The "Journalism Style" Talk - Mission Statement

I have been spending a lot of time on Facebook, but I still post things over here (and will be doing even more soon!). I'm going to start parking several posts about my writing and online work for reference. For example, when I am about to write something I plan to link back to many times, like the cussing talk.  I have recently responded to many remarks about my style and my approach. I'm going to explain myself one more time, and try to say it all in one place. Not just for the people who are new to my feed, but for myself.

Let this suffice as my future mission statement and an explanation for why I write the way that I do.

I'm direct. I don't apologize, and I'm not going to start. It's how I am in real life, and it's going to be how I am online as well. There are enough perky blond fluffballs and serious old white men telling the news in the same polished tone of voice. I'm over it. I'm going to say it in my voice, and those who don't like it can simply tune in to a channel they prefer. I don't feel that it's my job to make information palatable or comfortable, and I'm relieved at how many responded positively to this. We're adults. Let's just fish out the facts first, then decide how we feel about them. When I write about my feelings - and I will - I will write it separately and make a point to better separate the two. My Facebook is where I write my thoughts. My articles are where I publish my findings. Those two have mingled poorly in the past when I have written about my thoughts and it be confused with my factual writing. This is one of many things I have noted and will correct.

I am not going to sugarcoat or sell anyone on what I do. Those who like it have stuck around, those who do not have moved on, and that's how it should be. I'm really happy to see how many have stuck around. I sorely miss some of those who have left, but I respect their decision.

Unlike the people I have been writing about lately, I want to point out that I work completely in public view. I don't hide what I do, and you are here to see every triumph and every mistake. I'm not trying to toot my own horn, but this is the thing I am most proud of, for The Bon Project and for myself. It takes all the nerve I can muster to work in front of friends and readers I don't want to disappoint and critics I can never please all at the same time, and I've done okay so far. It has kept me honest and diligent and I like that. I believe in transparency, period.  I'm proactively living up to my ideals by putting my future career on the line. I walk an unconventional path and I wouldn't have it any other way. I've been rewarded with a lot of trust and love, and smacked with a lot of criticism. I've listened to both very carefully and I implement aspects of both. I do not chase approval, but I can tell when I've rightly been called out and I do my best to take that to heart.

The people who don't like my methods regarding GO:61 have to at least admit I have taken full responsibility of my every action, which is something they cannot say. I was bold, I asked questions, then I demanded answers when nothing added up. I don't feel it's my job to make them comfortable for failing to provide information they are legally obligated to provide or operate in such a way that their purpose and results are clear. Those who disagree have said their piece and were not censored. Unlike councilman Justin Burnett, I have left the entire record stand on my Facebook feed for public scrutiny. I have taken ownership of my words, and I stand behind every single one. When I made a statement I provided the evidence or full train of logic for comment. I did my homework, and thanks to tips and public support I got many leads to check out. That was a first for me, and it changed everything.

As I'm rather fond of pointing out, I'm an acquired taste. I'm not for everyone. However, I do promise to be myself at all times. I have been myself all along, as my friends can attest. My rage is real, when I'm angry. My sadness is deeply felt, when I write about some of the things we want to pretend don't exist. My happiness is genuine when I get to report something that tells us the world is doing something right. I do not get paid for my coverage of local events. I pay out of pocket for all of my costs, including upcoming Sunshine Law requests. If I ever write for conventional press, my editor will have a lot of say in what I write and how. This may be the only time I may ever truly own my voice. I'm going to use it for the ideals I support, and I'm not going to try to sound like everyone else. I'm going to write millions of words in my life. I want to come back to here and remember these days, when I worked full-time and was in school, not sleeping because there was one more thing to look up. This was when I fell in love with what I do and decided to go about it my own way. The flirtation became the lifelong commitment. Journalism, I love you, even when you're an asshole or make me get up before sunrise on my day off.

On a serious note, I'm not going to always write what people want to hear. Or get to write what I want to say. Sometimes I have to write the truth even when it sucks, and the work isn't very fun. But I get so many messages from people saying thank you for researching an issue, or for giving them the words they wanted to frame their own thoughts, that makes it worth it every time. I keep them all, and when I need to read some comfort I bring out the praise. When I worry I may be going down a path I don't like, I read my criticism and remember how the people who don't appreciate my particular style view me. It helps me be aware of what I can do better, and I feel like I can focus more on getting it right.

I've learned SO MUCH during this process. I had a lot of help and folks who helped me think things through, and this has given me insight I can use for the rest of my life. No classroom could prepare a person for the things I've seen.  One story at a time, I am going to find issues that matter, that affect people, and I am going to stick with it until it's done. I enjoy the narrow focus that lets me really work best. Even if there is no conclusion to be made, I will at least fully prepare and publish my work and have thoroughly checked it out. That's my mission. When there is an issue that nobody else will cover or want to dive into, let that be my groundwork. Let me learn from these so I can complete my education and do a good job going forward. When this wraps up and I take on my next project, I have a long list of things to do to help me do this better. If I had to boil this down to one lesson, I'll say this experience has taught me to ask every single question no matter how simple it might seem.

The thing that makes me the person I am has to add a few conditions. God help the person I catch harming another, because I will not hold back. I will have no mercy for the cruel or the people who take advantage of the helpless or the gullible. I will look down every path, even when I don't want to, and record my findings objectively and thoroughly. Then I will ponder what I find. Then I'm going to say what I think about it, evenif I don't like where the investigation has taken me, and whatever heat I take is not going to stop me. I will do all of those things every single time. Those who choose to disagree with my analysis are welcome to do so, but I hope my fact finding and sharing of resources also shows my dedication by letting people look at my work and grade it. Whatever path this takes me down, I will go gratefully and happily.

If you can take an occasional jag of cat pictures and an occasional (and by occasional I mean frequent) F bombs, I hope we can have a good time here on social media while I write what I feel compelled to say. But if you can't, I understand, and I wish you well on your journey.

Ode To The Arts

"You give out hope like it was candy in your pocket." This is a totally obscure quote from the movie The Postman, with Kevin Costner. I thought it was amazing, so much so that I remember pausing the movie all those years ago and giving that a thorough pondering. I decided I wanted to do that more than anything. That if I could pick a super power or a way to give back to the world, that would be my mission. Except I couldn't really give hope, because that wasn't within my scope. I could, however, try to make people happy in tiny but helpful ways. From jokes to being an ear or maybe helping quietly behind the scenes, I have cheered up many a person since that day in 1999. Sometimes it's easy. Sometimes it's not. Sometimes it's really really not.

And it saved me. People who knew me when I was young can tell you I did not speak often. When forced, and begrudgingly. I could go days without saying a word or stepping outside of my head during summer vacations from school. I had a lot to say, but I was scared to say it. I hadn't found my voice or courage yet. Through doing these things and writing and researching, I grew and friendships became easier. Toxic friendships ended because real ones grew and replaced them. And I really stepped out and started saying the things I was thinking, and learned other people were thinking them too and were also afraid to commit to an idea instead of an accepted theory. As a young adult I was looking for my place in the world and I was afraid to take the one that was right for me. Mainly because it was hard to explain to other people, and the loving consensus was that I should be more practical.

Every year since I made New Years goals of good deed quotas to hit and writing goals, and as I learned and improved, I got better at both. I've done some spiffy things overtly, anonymously, and usually to some degree of moderate success. One simple and relatively unnoticed line from a movie did that. It put my hopes and wants into a sentence and a coherent thought when I was much younger, and led to a lifetime of work and a mission statement that has affected many for the better. Myself included.

The arts are powerful. Math and science can change the world, but so can ideas. And through art, we can sometimes show someone just what they have been looking for. Some of us need a song, some of us a picture, and some of us just need the idea to echo in them and bring out something even better. This is why artists are so riddled with insecurity, because "helpful" people try to steer them to more tangible paths. Paths that make more money, but kill ideas. Careers that support luxury but reinforce greed and unhealthy living.

Stop doing that. Encourage your artists. They have a vision that can create even more good than they thought possible.

Her Name Is Mary

We walk with blinders on, ignoring the people around us. At the gas station today, there was a woman crying in utter defeat. She wasn't "working the crowd" because she was on the other side of the building where there are no doors. She was crazy skinny and I'm not going to lie, she smelled worse than she looked. She didn't ask me for a thing. I asked her what I could do to help. I can tell she's homeless or near it, and she starts to tell her Story because that's what homeless people do to placate those who only help the "worthy." I don't care if it's true or not, I do not want her to justify her need for my sake. I just told her it was okay, and please, just tell me what she needed.I didn't say it but she didn't have to be pitiful enough or sober enough or smart enough for me to help. She was standing in front of me, and that was enough.

All she asked for was a bag of chips, some salt to help her with the heat. I had originally stopped for a lottery ticket and a candy bar. I got her a big bag of chips, a huge water and a bag of M&Ms because they're portable and have raw calories.

When is the last time your situation was so dire you were prioritizing by raw calories? I thought so.

It's not even that hard to make a huge difference. You just have to look around, get off your high horse, and give a damn about the people standing right in front of you. They don't owe you anything, and you don't owe them. But don't for one second think you should be privy to and judge their Story. Either help them or don't. Live by the principles of doing good or don't. Use your gifts to make things better, that's why you were given gifts. Those who don't have money still have ways to help if they want to.

Serve your fellow man or don't. But don't tell me you can't. I'll call you a liar every time.

This is the one circumstance where I do not want to hear someone's life story. Not because I'm not interested, because it feels like they are sharing their pain in exchange for a few dollars and a little self-satisfied judgment in my look. I want them to know they've been helped because they're human and normal and I'd do it for anyone. I could grab the door for a businesswoman in $500 heels, and not feel I should ask her why she thought carrying so much crap was a good idea. In this case, I spent money I was going to throw away on a lottery ticket that wouldn't win and a candy bar I don't need, and someone has calories to make it until morning.

She says she is leaving town as soon as she gets bus money. I gave her my change and wished her well, and told her of a few places to go in town just in case. It's all you can do, but I would like to think someone would do it for me if I needed. And not because I had suffered enough for them, or lived my life by their still-flawed standards, but because I was a human standing in front of them.

I'm going to write here alongside the Dead Shuffle reboot (WOOHOO). I want to touch on a lot of things, how we view ourselves. The decisions we make when nobody is looking. The lies we tell when someone is. I want to talk about human nature and what we find acceptable. That's a mighty tall task for a zombie story, but that's what I want to do. I don't JUST want to scare people, the zombies can do that without me. I want to make people look at something and wonder what they would do, and what it would say about them.

Mary will be there.  Her story will be one of the best ones I'll write at the very beginning. I'm already working on it.

The Return of Dead Shuffle

Dead Shuffle was a learning project, a fiction blog that I started to see how it would work in reality. Then it got a small following and some loyal readers. Then it blew up because that's what learning projects do.

I'm pleased to announce that January 1, 2016 Dead Shuffle is coming back. And this time we're going to do it right. All of that previous work was not in vain, those lessons have been analyzed and applied to a final product that will launch.

This time, a small team of writers and creative people are on board from the beginning. Loyal people who stayed with us from the beginning will recognize some familiar faces, but this is a reboot and so everything could be subject to change to fit the new parameters.  A whole lot more will change than what has remained the same.  But all the same, you will recognize some people.

I might have little blurbs on my Facebook, but for the most part we're going to stay mum until everything is ready. I was just too excited to keep it quiet for any longer. Let's face it, that's just not my style.

I can't wait to write more soon, and fill in some details.

Project Lavender Moon

Project Lavender Moon

I can’t really tell the name of this project until it’s released.  But I’m excited, and here’s why.

Last semester, I had an idea. A great one, actually. I took photography class for my journalism degree, and to my utter surprise I fell in love. I thought it would be all artsy talk about pictures of flowers and our feelings, but it was really technical and challenging. I also had a wonderful teacher who paid as much attention to how we planned to use our photography as she did the curriculum. I came out of it learning about shooting landscapes, animals, people and portraits through the eyes of the students who were passionate about them

.

We had to create a portfolio as a final project. I drew up some great ideas, and that’s where this one was born. I knew right away I had found The One and still knew it was too big for the assignment at hand. I got an A in the class (for perspective, please realize the last art class I took was in 1989) after some hard work and remedial studying, and then I began to prepare for this.

I can’t tell you what it is yet. But I can say a few things and not spill the beans too much. It’s my first self-published art ever, and the concept is pretty special. Writing journalism is rewarding but you spend so much effort keeping yourself out of it. In this case I get to bring my own passion and vision into it but still maintain factual integrity. I also get to bring my other love into it. And at this point, photography is a love. The honeymoon is over. I’ve slogged through wet grass for a shot and hurt myself crawling around dancing people for “the” shot of a drummer. The love endures. I have a lot to learn but thanks to some generous people (including that amazing teacher) I have some folks who will help me succeed.

My writing life in general has entered a new, peaceful phase. The work for CBS Local is steady and rewarding. I learn a lot and I get to do tons of research and learn about random and unpredictable things.  That’s pretty much a Bon kind of deal. Examiner.com is also steady and I have full creative control. Though I report to an editorial team, I pick my own assignments and can continue to gain valuable experience. Unite Publications is personally satisfying, because I am contributing to a cause I believe in, a major principle I try to live by every day. Steady work, no need to hunt for more, and actually turning down work because I am pleasantly occupied. This frees up a lot of time. I no longer have to write query letters, follow up with editors and mail endless packets out to publishers. I just write. Now I can do this justice.

I have conducted a few interviews, and have some coming up. The subjects are getting better and better, and I am learning how to interview in an entirely different way. I am in talks to interview someone I have admired for years, and have met the most amazing people through the conversations. It is my job to record people. Their stories. Not just news, or scandals. What makes them who they are. Their perspective and experiences are unique, and there is so much to learn from one another. I realize as I’m doing it that it’s my best work to date, but in another surprise I didn’t expect it to change me.  My mind and understanding of people has grown so much in the past few months that it is unreal.

I’m going to write about my experience of putting this together in my blog. Not to tease people with upcoming releases, I won’t link to them at all. You will have to sign up if you want that level of detail. I have several artist friends who want to learn the publishing end of this, so I am going to help them understand on a step by step basis.  If you would like to learn how, I will gladly help and answer questions along the way. Self-publishing is usually not recommended, especially for traditional fiction.  However, for art it is perfectly acceptable, and that is how I plan to approach it anyway. 

So there you have it. There will be more coming. I am going to work it hard this summer, and hopefully have it down to editing and tweaking before school starts back up. 

More coming soon,

Bon

Coming Soon

I knew I had fallen in love with photography about halfway through the class. Our final project was to complete a portfolio, and I turned in black and white images that showed character and told a story. For the first time in my whole frustrated artist life, I had finally accomplished something and I knew it. I went into that class not knowing which button to push or what a DSLR camera was. I came out with a good sense of composition and theme and some technical knowledge. My editing skills are weak, but in journalism that is not a priority like it is for some photographers. Besides some cropping, blurring for privacy or making everything as clear as possible, editing is a crime among my people.

I decided today that I am going to put out a book of photography. In a small way it's an extension of my final project. But I have worked the idea over, given it a test run in class, and decided just how I want to execute the second round.

I obviously can't tell too much right now, but it will be based entirely on Springfield and the people who live here. I'm already adding and working on the format.

I might even be using an occasional model, and some effects to create scenes. I'm going all out on this, because now I know just how it will all come together.

Art is a fantastic thing. I'm so glad I have finally found something I can really sink my teeth into. I see myself getting better in leaps and bounds. I have committed my rookie mistakes and paid the price, now I'm working on fine tuning and learning how to edit just a little better, so I can pull off some artistic effects. There's a lot to do, but that will get me out and around this summer, give me reasons to hike because I have to cover a lot of ground to get all the shots I need, and leave me with something I can keep forever.

Stick with me, kids. This year has been upgraded to incredible.

State of the Bon Address

Things have finally calmed down, and I am feeling normal again. So many changes! To quote Inigo Montoya, "There is too much. Let me sum up."

• I moved to a different department at work. So far I love it. This is the most recent change, but I enjoy it very much.
  
• School is finally giving me a break. I took the summer off, and I'm glad I did. It took me nearly a month to rest and catch up on things I had put off to take care of school.
  
• I am in love with photography. My website has a growing gallery of shots. I particularly enjoy black and white, and capturing the character of people.
  
• I'm now writing for CBS Local, in the St. Louis market. I love it so much, because it's enjoyable and constant. Between this and Examiner, I now have all the outlets I need and enough to keep me busy when school starts back up.
  
• I will graduate in May 2016. I'm a little freaked out by that! It seems like forever, and it also seems like way too soon.
  
• I'm now taking the next two months and writing as much as I can. Then I can go back to school in September with no regrets, and a full body of articles behind me.
  

There really will be more posts here as well, but this is a nice overall catch up for those who don't follow me on Facebook. My website has undergone a facelift, so stop by www.bontindle if you ever want to see what's new. It has become an online home to me now and I update it often. This blog also runs through it, so everything is nice and connected.

Until next time,

Bon

2015 Resolutions

I'm really going to miss 2014. As with any year, there were some ups and downs, but it was an exciting year. I grew a lot and I learned so much. Before I start on my 2015 resolutions, I have to report how I did with my 2014 goals.

1. Get published through two different publishers for the first time. Done, actually doubled. I'd like to brag but in reality it was just luck. I met some people who made referrals, and the next thing I knew I have steady business. Bonuses were picking up repeat gigs at one publication, getting a treasured "request for article" email, I got on an editor's short list and had the same article run in two different newspapers. Saving the best for last, I scored the front page above the fold on Unite Publication's November issue, and I had no idea that was coming.
2. Perform two significant good or kind deeds per month. Done, but just barely. I usually get a jump start on these because they're my favorites, but this year wore me out. I met my goal but I did not exceed it. Whenever I got a chance to do some good, I took the opportunity. It's a good habit to build, and trains you to look for the chance to make someone have a better day. From that mindset, you can do great things.
3. Lose 25 pounds. Nope. Because nope. Moving that to 2015 goals, and putting it at the top. I do not like to fail.
4. Go into a cave, start with a safe one and work into two more challenging caves. No, but with reason. I developed a breathing issue and I can't always keep my breath. Add to that the fact that my claustrophobia manifests itself as a fear of not being able to breathe, I purposely took this one off the list until further notice. If they get my breathing issues under control I promise I'll get started. Otherwise, forget about it.
5. Geocache and find treasures. Yes! I did the one at the Springfield Art Museum and a couple of small follow-ups. It was a blast, and I'll do it again just for the fun of it.
6. Perform one magnificent and completely anonymous good deed. Oh hells yes I did. I found someone who had no reason to know I could help them. I did, and then sat back and watched that amazing person take it and grow it into something even bigger, and benefit even more people who needed a boost. It may be one of the most rewarding exercises in my life, because I got to see the deliberation and work of good people turn something ugly into something beautiful.

So not great, I missed a few. But I did okay. The lessons I learned this year are:

• The value of pacing yourself. I tend to do whatever I'm doing with all of my energy, all of the time, until I fall down flat and sleep. It's a romantic notion, but in school and planning / executing a writing career it isn't always practical. I'm purposely acquiring a value for the baby steps approach. For some projects, it is the only way to succeed. I need to call times to rest and decompress and in the end know it's more efficient, even if short term it's tempting to try to do it all at once.
• Be nicer to myself. I wore myself out this year. I'm no spring chicken anymore. I need to be aware that my limitations are shifting in some places, and I need to factor that into my goal setting. I want to be aggressive in my goals but in the end I want to accomplish what I set out to do. A couple of private resolutions really pushed me to the limit in 2014.
• Exercise and rest must be a priority. When I'm busy or stressed, these are the first two things to go out the window. No more. It cannot be acceptable any longer. And this is going to be hard as hell, because I despise the entire notion of exercising and working out, but it is necessary for a long and happy life. And I want one of those.
• There's nothing wrong with a phase in life in which you focus on yourself. I did a lot of neat things, and had a lot of experiences. I think this next year should be quality over quantity on the goal setting. There are a few select things I need to do, and do well, and that means I'm going to have to find where to put my energy and budget it well.

With that said, to apply my lessons and prepare for the next year:

1. Eat better and find two long-term exercise solutions that I enjoy. Ideally, one strengthening and one endurance building, but I'll take whatever I can get. I'm going to try all kinds of new activities, and honestly measure my success. This includes a monthly weigh-in. Now, no freaking way am I writing how much I weigh. However, I will "golf score" myself and on the first of each month I will tell where I am at. January is 0, so I have a whole month to work before I have to tell how it's going. This makes me accountable, and gives people like me a realistic look at how it is going from sedentary to moderately active. It's not all going to be pretty. This will include the goal of losing 30 pounds. That seems like a reasonable goal, even though I know it's going to get harder towards the end of the year. Still, I want to set an aggressive yet attainable goal and this seems fair. Make better food choices 75% of the time and apply moderation, a concept with which I struggle greatly.
2. Focus on myself and learn how to listen to myself. I need to prioritize and let some things drop off the radar while I attend to the things that matter, like work and school and family. I am down to 12 hours this semester, and will take 9 per semester and graduate in the spring of 2016. This will allow me to have a life on the side. I can pick my classes so I have one challenging, one medium difficult and one fairly easy class, to spread the work out. I am going to take better care of myself, with diet and exercise and even a meditation of sorts. I'm not going to be selfish, but I am going to invest energy into the next year of school, as my grades will have a big impact on my future. Life is about phases, and this phase is going to be a bit more about me.
3. Patience. I am going to work on my patience. I don't have a lot of it in my nature, and while it may sound like a simple thing I am putting a lot of emphasis on it. I am going to be patient with strangers. With people I love. With myself. With processes that I have planned. In many areas of life, I am going to struggle with this and do my best to know when patience should be applied, and develop the skills and resolve to apply it.
4. All A's. Even in algebra, because I can do it. All A's and no exceptions.
5. Begin work on learning Russian, to be conversational and fluent in three years.
6. Writing? There's a few here.
   1. Three new publications. Fiction, nonfiction, grocery list, whatever. Three new places that have never run my stuff before in any form.
   2. Focus on journalism and do 24 articles on local focus for Examiner.com. Apply for one additional news category with them and expand my market.
   3. Focus on fiction and write one short story per quarter, and start querying publications.
   4. Two queries to any completely new publication per month.
   5. Wrap up the essay project and deliver it by June. This is because the Daylight Man should be ready to start writing while I get this one out and going, if I can time it just right. It's technically done in draft, but there's a lot of polishing to do, and arranging cover art, distribution, etc. So there's a lot of work to be done. Getting it out in my hands in paperback form will be sufficient, but if I rock it out having it done by the end of summer would be fantastic.
   6. Two blog posts per month the entire year. No restrictions.
7. Perform one magnificent and completely anonymous good deed. Okay, you can have two. But seriously, when that chance appears, see it, do what needs to be done and never let anyone know you did a thing. It's just such a great feeling, and just one… right? Okay, maybe two if the opportunities present themselves.

So there are my goals. I'm taking it easy this year and putting my work into myself. I need it, and I need to take these years and make them count because they will determine the rest of my working life. I'm not just out for an education, I'm out to conquer the world. I have established my goals and made my plans, but the execution stage is the hardest. I'm right in the middle of that, and I won't be of any help to anyone ever if I drown and become a failure.
Regular updates, and more bog posts to come. I meant it when I said 2014 I was setting up the dominoes and in 2015 you'd see them start falling into place.

My One Shot Bucket List

Most people don't spend a lot of time thinking about dying, and writing a bucket list has become a socially acceptable way to acknowlede that our time is limited and we need to make it count.  Some make a huge list and others make intricate plans.  There is no right or wrong in making a bucket list. Each one should be as unique as the person writing it.

After a great deal of consideration, I decided to pick just one item from all my wishes.  One thing that I would carefully plan, and turn into the adventure of a lifetime.  I knew immediately it would be traveling to somewhere. But what destination did I need to see to make my life whole?  Considering I've had some pretty spiffy adventures thus far, this would take some thought.  I've spent fifteen years with my husband and we have toured most of the country.  I've logged thousands of miles by train and enjoyed the road less traveled.  As a couple we have our own to-do wish list that is independent of my single bucket list item.  But we are all individuals, and I think everybody should get one freebie that is selfish and all their own.

I tried to think about what was missing from my life, and came up short.  I have great friends.  I love my job.  I'm doing what I want with my life.  What else could a girl want?  Then it all came together in the perfect storm.  The answer to my life's greatest adventure was hidden in... homework.

In the first week of October, I had an assignment in journalism class that was particularly tough.  It was a great piece on Roger Ebert that ran in Esquire on February 16, 2010.  The article was very well written, and a great example of how to work detail into a feature.  But aside from the technical lesson I was taken in by Ebert, a man I had grown up with but didn't know at all.  This great, brilliant mind who just happened to be a popular film critic.  Ebert's quotes and approach to life and death were mind-bending. He spoke of the afterlife almost casually, having already accepted the fact that he would be there soon.

"What I am grateful for is the gift of intelligence, and for life, love, wonder, and laughter. You can’t say it wasn’t interesting. My lifetime’s memories are what I have brought home from the trip."

That is exactly how I want to think of my life.  Ebert was an atheist, so we differ in that regard.  However, if I had to sum up the meaning of life, this is the best definition I've ever read.  And it came from someone I had grossly underestimated as the "thumbs up" guy.  Our life is some kind of special chapter in the unfolding of the universe.  Our memories are our reward, even the ones we might not choose to recall.  I want the photo album of my life to be full of greatness.  Not all trips and adventures, but moments of grace, reflection, and plenty of humble reminders that ultimately shaped me.

This confirmed that I wanted to go on a trip, but one that had to be personal, a journey that would suit me and be worthy of the top (and only) slot.  Then another homework assignment gave me the final piece.  My anthropology class had a long-running assignment in which you contributed different videos and articles that were related to the content.  I had just watched The Human Family Tree, an awesome documentary that takes a look into how DNA can tell you not just who your ancestors were, but where they have been at certain times.  Through recorded patterns, scientists can tell how anyone's ancestors originally worked their way from the cradle of civilization to their current location.  I gave the documentary a quick skim to update my notes and share it with the class when a perfect storm of ideas came together.

I love to write.  I love history.  I love culture.  It suddenly became so clear: I should have a DNA analysis performed, and take my bucket list trip to the oldest or most compelling place I find, and write about it.  And depending on what I discover, work in more if I can.  What would be cooler than standing on a piece of land and knowing that thousands of years ago, someone who shared your blood had done the same?  The only thing that could possibly top that is the research that will help me decide the significance of the data and weigh the possible destinations.

It all starts with the first step: the DNA test.  I know Ancestry.com has one, but I want to do some checking and see if any are even better at giving me the particular breakdown I seek.  By the end of 2014, I plan to have taken the test (the results may take a while, I have no idea how these things work).  Then I'll share it and start trying to map out the possibilities.

It really is a small world.  I want to go back as far as I can, find the earliest or most unique land of my family's history, and go there.  I want to look around and know that I wasn't here by accident.  I used technology and skill and intelligence to come find my roots.  I want to look at a landmark, and having checked history and climate records, know how it would have looked to someone who shares a direct link with me.  Though they'll never know it, I would like to think my ancestors would find it amazing that I came looking for them, and succeeded.  I also want to write something special, and just for myself.  I don't mind sharing the whole story (note the new Bucket List tag) but this may be the only thing that I am really writing out for the pure and selfish joy of doing what I want.  I'm not trying to sell it, I'm not trying to please an editor.  I want to record my big adventure and do it justice.

So there it is.  My bucket list.  It will be a great journey of discovery and research, one great destination where I get to appreciate what I've studied, and a chance to write something special.  I'm not out for a luxurious and pampered experience. I'm going to apply the things I love most and see where the science takes me.

If you like, you are welcome to come along for the ride.

Q: How Can You Identify An Exception To The Rule?

A: When it's the answer that makes sense.

Brittany Maynard is going to die. Of that, there is no question. Her diagnosis bluntly says she will deteriorate quickly and die a painful death. She has decided to end her life on her terms. Considering what she is facing, there is no other alternative except to suffer. She has planned an event, where she has wrapped up her affairs and said her goodbyes, and she will die with the people she loves most surrounding her.

And while her story is sad, the message she wants to impart is not. Brittany Maynard is showing us how to handle a death sentence with class and strength.

Medical euthanasia is a very personal choice, and is not right for everyone. However, the people who want to pursue the option are screened and must take the action themselves. The medication prescribed is just guaranteed to work without unnecessary suffering. Those who say doctors will begin killing patients are using hyperbole to strike fear where there is no proof. The fact is, the screening process has requirements that make sense and are compassionate.

Suicide is a difficult subject to tackle. It's something we are engineered to call wrong on every occasion, but the truth is that every rule has an exception. I worked in health care, and I have seen many a parent of a friend succumb to cancer or long illness. I have seen people writhe in pain, and felt helpless while the maximum dose of painkillers failed to comfort them. People who are of sound mind deserve the ability to avoid that sentence if they choose.

It's not the choice for everyone, but it's the choice for some. And we need to respect that choice, because nobody should have to suffer that kind of agony so that complete strangers can feel okay about how they died. If someone doesn't want this option, then that is their right. It's only a problem when they try to take that right away from others. The right to deny treatment is a medical principle that is guaranteed for all people. That shouldn't come with a screaming, agonizing price tag.

And while it might sound crass, I still have to say it: if it's not too good for my pet, it's not too good for me. Rest assured, if I found myself in Brittany Maynard's shoes I would be making the exact same decision. I have done this for creatures I loved like children, with all the heartbreak and horror that comes with it. I could do it for myself. I could do it for my husband. By allowing people full ownership of their lives when facing certain and painful death, we make it so their loved ones can participate in saying goodbye without being implicated in a crime. We allow medicine to cease suffering and serve the patient, as it was intended. We respect the ability of adults to choose their path for themselves and honor their religious directives.

So while it feels wrong, sometimes the answer is yes. And Brittany Maynard has spared some of her precious remaining time to help us learn that lesson. I hope her investment is not in vain.

Dear Springfield City Council

I was at City Hall on September 8^th. What I heard was one side asking for permission (or demanding their "right") to discriminate, and another side asking for reasonable safety and protection from discrimination. Every citizen should be free of discrimination, but vulnerable populations need the assistance of government to ensure their safety. Some tried to say LGBT discrimination didn't exist. Surely none of you could have sat that meeting and believe such discrimination doesn't exist. You stared it in the face for hours.

Adding LGBT citizens to the list of those protected from discrimination doesn't force people to like them, sign off on their existence or allow them to be who they are. They exist already. They are who they are already. They simply depend on you to send the message that they must be given the same respect and consideration that is offered to every other citizen of Springfield. We don't all have to get along on a personal level, but everyone should expect to be treated fairly in matters of government, business and employment. You are using your power to set that minimum standard. I beg you to use your power wisely and in accordance with the Constitution, which protects our life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. One side's pursuit of happiness is to work and live in peace, the other side's objective is to protect the right to harm others.

These citizens are vulnerable because they are a minority. However, they pay taxes and deserve the service and representation of their government. They are not criminals, and therefore deserve freedom. They are only a small percentage of the population, yet over half of your speakers recognize their equality. Because we love them. Because I cannot imagine looking into my friend's faces and not saying I fought like hell for them, with everything I could muster. They would do it for me; I have no doubt. See, I'm not even gay. This isn't even my cause. I was just raised to be better than this. And right here in Springfield there are thousands of people like me, who aren't gay but love someone who is. We're watching. We're voting. And writers like me will make sure you are held publicly accountable for whether you decide to protect all your citizens or just the ones you deem worthy.

You represent Springfield. You can show that this is a city where people can expect to be treated fairly, or you can send the message that only approved citizens receive the full services of their government. Many have tried to muddy this discussion with shades and variables, but for you it is black or white. Yes or no. And you will have to say, with the entire city watching, are you for discrimination or are you against it?

Womanhood In A Nutshell

It's not being dramatic to say American women are in terrible circumstances.  To those who believe differently, before you scoff please read this through.  All in one sitting, read this through and realize that your mothers, sisters, daughters, aunts and wives are affected by everything below.  Half the country abides by what is written below.  No woman is safe, and that fundamental understanding is truly what separates us from the boys.  Men don't have to worry about a lot of the things women do, and while that street goes both ways the purpose of this article is to shed a little light on what the women in your life have to think about.  Every single day.

1. One in six will be the victim of sexual assault.  According to RAINN (Rape Abuse and Incest National Network) 17.7 million women have been the victims of rape.  Do you really think if 17.7 million men were raped, humiliated, scarred and beaten that this would be allowed?  But when it's women, the reactions fall between "well, that's unfortunate" with little emphasis on fixing the problem, to accusations of how the accuser had a hand in their own attack.  Rape doesn't know an age limit or stick to a certain class.  To pretend it's only slutty young girls who don't wear enough clothes implies that mothers, responsible women, good Christian role models don't find themselves being victimized.  It also implies that acting or dressing a certain way incites rape and therefore bears some responsibility in the attack.  That couldn't be farther from the truth. And while we try to spread the message, untold millions of women suffer that fate as the price of our society's ignorance, plain and simple.

But hey, let's say that it did happen to someone you love.  Let's say it does, and they catch the guy, because that's supposed to make everything all better despite the nightmares, and this  happens:

A British man was sentenced to five years in prison for raping an unconscious woman. According to a report from the Hull Daily Mail, it took the jury just over two hours to unanimously conclude that Lee Setford was guilty of raping a woman who was asleep on his couch. But here’s what the judge told him upon sentencing, “I do not regard you as a classic rapist. I do not think you are a general danger to strangers. You are not the type who goes searching for a woman to rape.

In what world is a man found guilty of a violent felony beyond the shadow of a doubt by unanimous vote "not a general danger" to strangers?  Our world.  According to the judge's own words, the woman who was sleeping must have had a role in her attack because this guy was pretty ordinary.  Somehow, he didn't think it was (entirely) the fault of the guy who jumped on her while she was asleep and used her body against her will.  And somehow, not searching for a woman to rape makes him more upstanding than a fellow who just rips the clothes off a woman who is nearby and vulnerable.  There are plenty of cases in the United States of this exact type of thinking in the courts, but I chose a timely example that encompassed so many problems we see again and again.

Because guys... you see these cases and they slide out of your memory.  We don't. And for one in six of us, it's because we know just what that poor woman felt like because we have experienced it for ourselves. I get it, I don't lie awake at night worrying about whatever it is men worry about.  But before you dismiss this as something that doesn't happen, look at the number.  That's more than all the men in the state of Texas, Rhode Island and Georgia combined.  Any other crime that magnitude and frequency would be the shame of law enforcement everywhere, not a topic for debate on whether a low-cut sweater or falling asleep was asking for it.

2. It's a little more serious than "women just can't catch a break."  I grew up in the 1980s, when women were being encouraged to get out in the field and work, partly in response to the Regan-era layoffs and the resulting decay of workplace protections.  Here, in a nutshell, is a woman's career path:

• If you make it through school, in light of the favoritism shown against women with mentors in the field, you graduate and get to work.  You're new and young and will have to answer questions like "how do you plan to juggle kids and your job" because your future has already been forecast.
• If you graduate, you are one of many.  The Wall Street Journal reports more women are graduating than men on a consistent basis.  So yay, women are making progress!  Except we're not.  Because despite our success rate in finishing school, our working lives are not in line with our progress on that front.
• If we have more women graduates who studies show outperform men in school, then why does USA Today report that 16 out of 500 as the most consecutive women to run Fortune 500 companies?  Where are all these bright, hardworking, outperforming and tenacious future leaders getting stuck? VitaminW gives us this this graphic to illustrate why half the graduates only occupy so few of the top jobs in their field.

• Also, getting paid seventy-seven cents on the dollar may also have something to do with it.  It's hard to find incentive to work harder when your best efforts may only get you to equal ground (and that's a mighty big maybe).  Those who contradict the statistic point out that it is a bit skewed because women dominate fields like receptionist, waitress, and other low-paying jobs (despite our increased graduates with associates degrees and higher).  The seventy seven cents part is correct, the mistake is people say it's for "doing the same work."  It's not.  Because women don't get promoted to those high-ranking jobs, and are kept in supporting but low-paying roles, it's still valid to say that we earn that much less across the board.  Because if we were given equal opportunity and held to the same standards and rewarded by the same standards, that number would be zero.
• If you land a decent job and are lucky enough to be able to afford to make a living with just one job, you now have to pay 68% more out of pocket for your health care costs.  As Ruth Bader Ginsburg pointed out, and to the utter shock of the researchers at PolitiFact, that statistic hasn't significantly  changed since 1994.  That's right.  I'm almost forty years old, and every year since I graduated high school, I have had to pay more for basic care and medicines, and told it was only fair because I might become pregnant and tax the system.  My whole life, there's been zero improvement on something necessary to our lives and happiness, and it's not going to change anytime soon.  And now, depending on the whim of others, my rights to healthcare, medicine and perfectly legal procedures can be taken away or restricted. 
• And even if you do make it, you're one of the four percent and you've beaten a string of odds so long that nobody can really believe it, some asshole like Matt Lauer will ask you how you juggle kids and your job, and send you right back to that first job interview you had when you graduated college.  

Add to that being measured by how doable you are instead of how accomplished you are, getting ahead only for one boss to stall your career because of how he feels about women in the workplace, worrying about getting raped or attacked by a stranger who comes on to you and is turned down.  Entire articles are written about the things women have to do differently at all times or risk being attacked, while men go through few if any of those hoops to protect themselves.  Yet we're told we are treated as equals (we aren't) and that our voices are heard (not even close) and that we are valued members of the workforce (who get paid less and charged more for benefits) and that we're being bitchy or somehow wrong if we speak up.  

Long list, huh?  Now realize that if every single one of those problems were to go away, after fifty years of work and dedication and wholehearted attempts at reform... we would just then be on even footing.  Not ahead, not advantaged... even.

We struggle and live under this every single day, while patronizing jackasses tell us to be grateful we live in such a progressive country.  One that will at least give us food stamps after using us for cheap labor and pawns to score political points.

Don't you want more for the women in your life?

Review: Microsoft Office 365 From A Writer’s Perspective

I have always prided myself on being a Linux girl. It took me years to get comfortable with it, but I stayed at it. Why? Because I hated Microsoft with a passion. Their exorbitant licensing fees and shady business practices made them nearly predatory in the market, and I still blame them for singlehandedly killing innovation in software for decades. So I worked at learning Linux out of spite, and Ubuntu finally gave me a platform on which I could build my work. Or so I thought.

Going back to school forced me to have Windows compatibility, there was just no other way around it. Many teachers are nearly computer illiterate, which boggles the imagination. They were unable or unwilling to accept PDF files or other generic forms. My employer uses Windows, and Office 2010. While taking the state required Computer Information Systems 101 (degrading though it may be) I was forced to use Office 2010 and of course I still knew my way around from work exposure. But I resented every moment of it.
But here's the deal: OpenOffice gave way to LibreOffice and they aren't the same. The compatibility is technically there, but flawed. You could not guarantee a smooth transition in .doc format between Open/Libre Office and Microsoft Office. My homework was just one example of that. Editors are famous for being dinosaurs and resisting technology. It's 2014 and many still like paper submissions. There is zero wiggle room with email submissions and attachments. An editor is not going to look twice, if the first glance reveals formatting issues they are going to throw your manuscript out and move on to the next one. Your brilliant writing will never get a chance to offset this liability. I have gotten this straight from the mouths of editors, and I believe them. 

The competition is just not up to snuff.  Google Docs is free, but has a few glitches. I had devastating data loss on some writing projects, and when I would move a manuscript to Microsoft Office to format it for submission, it was a nightmare. I love Google and still swear by my Chromebook, but Google Docs will leave me with trust issues for a long time. Plus, it also had compatibility issues, and tricks I learned at work did not easily move over to their flavor of Excel. Google Docs is great for throwing open a doc and doing that mental download that all writers know, when it's coming through fast and hot and it's all you can do to type it before you lose it. But once that moment has passed, you are ten times better served by having it in actual Microsoft Word, or you are looking at hours of reformatting and triple checking on top of your regular editing.

Office 365 is a monthly (or yearly if you want the savings) subscription that gives you access to all of the Microsoft products. Word, Excel, Publisher, Power Point, Excel, Access, One Note and Outlook. The whole kit can caboodle for seven dollars per month. I never have to upgrade. I have a terabyte of storage, more than I could fill in a lifetime of writing. I can use the cloud version on any laptop (including the Chromebook) and organize myself in a way that is familiar and compatible with other devices. The cloud version comes with a basic but handy version of Power Point, Word, Excel and Outlook. This is more than sufficient for traveling needs. You can download the full version of Microsoft Office 2013 and use it on multiple machines with your one subscription (instead of having to purchase Office for every machine in the house). That right there undoes a lot of the evil Microsoft has levied on the American people. By forcing a standard and charging individually, they made their products to where regular people couldn't afford to have them all. To buy the CD and license for Office 2013 is currently around $150. Publisher and Access are extras, costing about $120 each. I would have had to pay for this for each machine in my house, a total of four, if I wanted full compatibility. For my measly seven bucks, I get all of them on all of my machines and don't have to worry about storage or compatibility ever again. Deal.

Because the rest of my world is set up on Google, it was a relief to move my writing world into Office on the cloud. Through a single webpage, I could manage my writing (documents), my calendar, email, and even my business tracking through Excel. It is literally logging into your online office where everything is a click away. My personal and professional lives are now comfortably separated and I can click save and email seamlessly. I can make business cards, even format for self-publishing projects, anything I will need for my writing or consulting work is covered. I fought the good fight for over ten years, but I have come full circle. With reasonable prices on this, I am now far more willing to purchase a license for Windows 7 (you will never catch me using the monstrosity that is Windows 8) and I will eventually say goodbye to Linux. We had a good run, but in the end I am a writer and I have to use the tools of my trade. That is going to require Microsoft Office, and now that I have an affordable option I am going to use it.

I will write a follow up at some point, just an update letting writers know how I have fared and if I have come across any significant glitches that may affect others. But for right now, I could not be more impressed and I have written countless blog articles (including this one) that publish with a click, over 40 pages of manuscript and an unbelievable number of projects for homework. I've yet to encounter a single negative, even when working on the "diet" version that is on the cloud.

Microsoft, I refuse to apologize for my previous hatred because you deserved it. However, you have redeemed yourself with this new business model and you have a truly superior product. I will gladly pay seven dollars per month to enjoy the benefits of your impeccable upkeep. Microsoft Word sets the bar for writing software, and One Note lets me organize to my heart's content. I love this so much that I am moving my Operating System back to Windows full-time. My productivity is through the roof, and almost all of it is being able to log in and leave the world behind, and get down to business. I can now run my entire life through a series of apps that I can carry in my purse as well as run on my desktop computer at home. That's all this girl ever wanted.

The Rest Of The Story (Why I Write)

Of course I'm taking all the writing classes I can while obtaining my associate's degree. I have a great time, and I still learn plenty. The insight and feedback from an online course has really let me see how my writing looks through a different person's filters and voices. I've tried to take this feedback and turn it into the best product possible. If people didn't enjoy my writing, then there would be no purpose to my work.

Inevitably, we have to write a cheesy bio (I've used the same one for all classes. I mean, how many ways can you say "crazy cat lady nerd" and be original?). Writing classes also give you a soft assignment, which has been without fail to write an essay explaining why I write. The safe answer is that I write because I like the challenge, I feel I was born to do it, and I have spent nearly 35 years writing so why in the world would I stop now? Those are all true, and all valid answers. But there are some things you can't say in an academic setting, especially before you've had a chance to get a read on the teacher. So I leave some things unsaid. My blog, my rules, I'm going to say those extra things now.

The short answer: I write because I'm wired to do it. The long answer: my brain sees everything as a story, every person as a character, and every photo as capturing history. I'm addicted to the feeling. I couldn't stop, even at the cost of my own life. There is some primal magic about making it real, making people feel and participate in a world of your creation, that is just beyond any high chemicals could manufacture. Under the umbrella of journalism and character study, I've been able to get people to open up to me and share their stories, and tell me the most intimate details of their lives. I understand people in a way that few do, and they trust me with their secrets. There is a rush in being printed, in an editor choosing your work over the competition. I smile for days when an editor says something as simple as "great research" or "well done." Someone who understands my craft has just paid me a compliment, how awesome is that? It's the same way a musician feels when they nail a tough piece of music in front of a fellow musician, or an artist when the sketch comes out just right. There's nothing better. A pound of Columbian cocaine couldn't come close to making me feel the way I do when someone tells me how my writing has entertained or affected them. That's why I write. To not do so would be like dying, and to do it a bad job of it would be so frustrating that dying would start to look like relief.

Having said all of that, I don't do it just for the love. I do it for me. If nobody ever read my things, I would write less (demand is a blessed thing) but I would never stop. I wrote for myself for years, while I created things and then tore them apart because they weren't worthy of the readers out there. That's not to say I've never written crap, every writer does it. It's the same thing as missing a note or drawing an errant line through a sketch. But I did spare most of you the early years, when my characters were sappy and stupid, and knew nothing of life because I knew nothing of life. I didn't ask you to read the stories in which I worked out my personal demons. And for the love of baby Jesus, I never asked you to read my poetry.
Now you know why I write, and know of the terrible things I have spared you. You're welcome.

Project Pink Samurai Put On Hold

I have always enjoyed interviewing people and getting to know strangers. I'm pretty social by nature as long as I have my solitude after work is over. People don't scare me, though anyone who knows me in real life will confirm that I am a crazy person magnet. Whatever, it makes life interesting. However, as the following story shows, sometimes it makes it a bit too interesting.

Last week, I was going for a walk. This is pretty normal for most people, but not for me. I abhor heat, and I'm not a huge fan of the sun. However, I've been sick for a while and I felt the need to get out and work up a sweat. Keep in mind the nature of my illness made breathing very difficult, and while I am mostly over it, my lungs are still only working at partial capacity. Which is a fancy way to say that ten minutes into my walk, I was huffing and puffing and having serious doubts about whether I could continue. But I did, because I have to start with baby steps and get back to some level of physical fitness. With the help of my trusty cell phone pedometer, I had figured out a route that was exactly two miles long. A few sources I read said running or jogging two miles burned the same number of calories, so I worried about distance but not how long it took me to get there. Because I like quirky names, I called my fitness project Project Pink Samurai, because I wanted to be more graceful, light on my feet, and able to look fabulous. And what, I ask you, could look more fabulous than a pink samurai?

I saw a strange looking fellow by some large shade trees. I wasn't worried, he wasn't making an effort to hide. However, I kept a wary eye on him because I've been attacked before when I was young. More than once, actually. As I closed in on him, I slowed down and caught my breath a little, so I wasn't super weak when I caught up to him. I put my cell phone in my pocket, and freed up my hands just in case. And it's a darned good thing I did. There is no point in recalling the encounter here, word for word. The bottom line is, this man approached me, and I was polite but cautious. However, he became belligerent and threatening, and when I wouldn't keep walking (so he could walk behind me) he became even more threatening. Realizing we were approaching the point of no return, I decided to throw a bluff. Honestly, as a pudgy broad who had zero strength left, it was my only gamble. It worked. He took off, and when I pulled my phone out and called my husband, he trotted off quickly (I assume he thought I was calling the police). To prove to myself that I did have control over things, I walked home under my own power, despite my husband's pleas to let him come pick me up. I felt shaky and awful and sick, and I was desperate to feel like I hadn't just been reduced to a puddle of fear. But I had. Don't let my bravado confuse you for even a second. I was terrified.

I told a coworker about my walking pattern and the way I had learned to protect myself. By choosing an open, flat course I didn't allow anyone the opportunity to sneak up on me. By cleverly pretending to be texting, I had my cell phone's "selfie cam" on and was actually peeking over my shoulder discreetly to make sure I knew who was around me. I do not like to offend people, but neither do I allow anyone to linger behind me. Whether it's a family of four or a lone male, I step aside and allow them to pass. After listening, my thoughtful and sweet coworker said, "Wow, I never thought about what a woman has to go through while walking." I wanted to hug him. If only more people could realize this. So, for your consideration, I offer a few things to think about.

• Do not be offended if a woman steps aside to let you pass. She's not being rude, she is doing what it takes to feel secure. In all the times this has happened, the decent guys have never said a word, and in fact made a show of staying a safe distance away so I did not feel crowded. It's not personal, don't make it personal. Ladies, don't be afraid to let someone pass. Many attackers will take advantage of a woman's tendency to fear being rude, and will use that to get in as close as possible.
• When getting into shape, while it may feel good to wear yourself out, keep in mind that also makes you weak in case of attack. If any kind of potentially dangerous situation is ahead, stop for a second. Pretend you're checking your pulse, pretend you are checking your texts, do whatever it takes to have that reserve of energy just in case you need it.
• Always carry something you can use to defend yourself, no matter how close to home you are. Even if it's just a dinky can of pepper spray, or in my case a plastic device that makes your punches hurt like hell, have something. And if you feel you need to take it out, don't do so with fear. Be angry, and never show fear regardless of how you actually feel. Chances are an attacker will consider moving on to an easier target. I could see my house for the majority of my walk. It wouldn't have done me a damned bit of good if he had decided to attack me.
• Don't let the attacker move on to an easier target. Call the police and report anything suspicious. By doing so you are helping save the next potential victim who will be coming along. They may not be as prepared as you are.

As for me, I will take advantage of my employer's gym, where I at least know the crazies surrounding me. Stay safe, and I'll see you next time.

 
Bon

The Cussing Talk

I often get messages that discuss my salty language.  Some are aggressive, others are offended, and the rest are just plain curious.  Why do you talk the way you do?  Can't you stop using those words?  Don't you know how people perceive you when you speak like that?  Most of those people get short, perfunctory answers.  However, someone rather close to me decided to say something, and I had to take some time to think of a reply.  It wasn't because I was upset or angry, it was because this person is important enough to me that I believed they deserved not only an answer, but an explanation.  It was time to write one, and why not write one that would be available to anyone who asked?  Instead of writing a monthly Facebook post stating what I think, now I can just send them a link to this post.

So for anyone who questions me hereafter, this is why I use the words I do.

I grew up in a rural town, where the phrase "she wouldn't say shit if she had a mouthful" was a compliment.  Ladies always did this, ladies never did that, blah blah.  I decided at a young age, not this kid.  As an adult, I realized I am a lady, and if I cuss and speak openly, then ladies do in fact cuss and speak openly.  I get to define lady, because I am one.  The day I realized that was one of the most liberating moments of my life.

It took me a lot of years to figure out who I am, to myself and to other people.  To some I'm the worst person to ever exist.  Other people find me delightful, and frankly I agree with those guys.  But for better or worse, I do finally know myself, like myself and understand myself.  I am not going to be shamed or socially coerced into talking a certain way, and I am not going to be forced through pointless social hoops to make someone else feel better about something that never mattered in the first place.  I am who I am, without apologies or remorse.  If my salty language or other personality traits close some doors in life, they will open others.  And those are the doors I was ultimately meant to pass through.  If reader feedback is any indication, I get ten "thank you for saying what you think without filter" emails for each one asking me to tone down my choice of wording.  If there's one thing with which both my critics and champions can agree, it's that I'm honest.  I mean what I say and I say what I mean. Agree or disagree, one never has to wonder if I'm dodging a bullet or taking the easy way out.

In traditional Bonnie phrasing, I only have so many shits to give about things, and I choose to spend them on the ideas that do matter to me and leave the trivial ones to take care of themselves.

Life is a game you only get to play once.  Win or lose, I am going to play by my terms.  I realize my words are a reflection of my personality.  They are intended to be.  Some will understand, some will not.  I can't help that, and I wouldn't if I could. You either get me or you don't.  But I'm not changing anytime soon, so those who find my writing and ideas to be an acquired taste still have plenty of time.