Social anxiety is one of those things where people don’t believe you have an issue. There’s always this sense of “Get over it.”

If that were possible, I wouldn’t have it.

I posted on some forums and now I’m stressing out because no one’s responded. And I’m not really scared of what they’ll say, because most people don’t go out of their way to be jerks.

No, I’m afraid I’ve made a fool of myself on the internet again. Just the thought of thousands of people judging me and deciding I’m terrible makes me afraid. I start sweating and I get nervous and my stomach churns with acid. I can’t stand the idea of being hated even by people I don’t know.

And do you know what helps? Talking about what I’m afraid of. Then step-by-step I work my way through why my fears are ridiculous. And then I think of some things that I can do if the worst happens.

1. There’s billions of people in the world. Why am I bothered by a few that I will never meet? And besides, not that many people visit this forum and that doesn’t mean any of them will care about the topic.

2. Everyone makes mistakes. Delete it if it’s bad, otherwise don’t worry about it. If someone asks what I meant, I’ll just explain or not respond. Seriously, who I talk to is my choice, and that includes not answering if I’m not comfortable.

It’s people that try to come up with excuses that end up building a castle of lies and get into trouble. Just don’t say anything.

3. Don’t feed the trolls.

4. I sounded like an asshole, but even if it became big news on the internet for some reason, a surprising amount of people don’t care. Just be cool, keep my head down, most everything blows over
eventually.

Seriously, social anxiety disorder is hell. But it’s liveable, manageable hell.

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Read slashy stories at Kimichee.

Pick up a copy of “From Diamond to Coal: Arc One,” by Sol Crafer. A mm superscience novel. Meet. Marriage. Murder.

Prairie Fires at Amazon

I appreciate how much better my Kindle has made my life.

I will never give up having at least a laptop, but I’m not chained to it anymore. I have something that more easily fits my hand. I can work outside or thanks to Swype write while I’m walking somewhere.

I use ColorNote to write posts, then email them either to myself or directly to my blog. I’ve nearly completed a novel with it.

And for proofing … The Kindle has become my hero.

I make a mobi file, then use notes to tell myself where changes should be, and the dictionary has saved me a few headaches. I bookmark the page where I left off so I never lose my place. And when I’m all done, I see where changes need to be made and I do a Find & Replace on my document.

Maybe I’ll upgrade to a better and fancier tablet, but the Kindle has been a great introduction for me. It’s given me a taste for what I want a tablet to do and I didn’t have to sell my soul to afford it.

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Read slashy stories at Kimichee.

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Have an excerpt of “Fierce,” by Harper Kingsley. mm contemporary.

EXCERPT:
Rating: teen+ to be safe

Being on location was one of those things Simon used to love but that now made his stomach churn nervously. He didn’t really like being out of his safety zone, but it was something he felt had to be done.

Looking over and being able to see Byron Hughes standing with the rest of the crew made him feel better. His bodyguard had a gun and was willing to use it. He was perfectly safe.

“All right, Simon, in this scene you and Colby are entering the Dragon’s Tomb,” the director, Paul Bleek, said. “Just like in practice, you bring the gun up and it’s just ‘bang-bang-bang.’ Colby, you get hit and fall down, knocking over the Orb. We all good?”

Colby nodded and Simon said, “We good.”

They were standing in front of the archway leading to the “Dragon’s Tomb,” a temple built by the set designers in the middle of the desert. It was already hot and Simon could feel the sweat trickling down his forehead and sticking his clothes to his skin.

Waiting for the cue, he flashed a smile at Colby. “So what’s it like being the male Lara Croft?”

Colby Jackson gave his world famous grin. He really was amazingly good looking, a tall African-American with a leanly muscled body and a perfectly trimmed beard. “I feel very pretty.”

They’d never worked together though they’d known each other for years. It had only been because Colby asked so nicely that Simon had even accepted the role of “Percy Walden,” assistant and sidekick to itinerant explorer “Nicholas Blaine.”

“Places!”

“Let’s Indiana Jones this bitch up,” Simon said, earning himself a laugh.

Dressed in black pants, a long-sleeved black shirt, and a flak vest jangling with all kinds of faux-weaponry, Simon already felt like he needed a break and they hadn’t really even started yet.

“All right… Action!” Bleek called.

Simon drew in a deep breath and hurtled forward and kicked the stone door down with a grunt. He had a gun in his hand and he didn’t hesitate to run forward into the tomb. His head moved back and forth alertly and it seemed natural to bring his gun up and start shooting.

An Asian-looking tomb all shining with gold and jade. Dangerous looking men in lots of brown and gray clothing toting machine guns as they worked at stripping the place bare of treasure. They dropped what they were doing when he started shooting them and brought their own weapons up.

There were screams and shouts and the plink-plink of misses near his head and feet as he jumped, rolled, and dodged until every one of them was dead.

He stood from his crouch and turned to Colby. “It’s clear, sir.”

Colby sauntered in, his lips forming a disappointed moue. “Really, Percy, did you have to come charging through like a bull in a china shop? Perhaps some of these gentlemen would have liked the chance to surrender before you shot them in the face?”

Simon holstered his gun with a shrug. “We’ll never know now, will we?”

Colby smiled and started to say something, then hesitated. His expression congealed, his brows coming together, and he raised his right hand to his left shoulder.

“Sir?” Simon took a step toward him.

Colby pulled his hand away and there was blood on his fingers. He half-turned and there was a giant, bleeding wound in his back. “I think I’ve been shot,” he said calmly, then his legs wobbled and he stumbled sideways before collapsing. His flailing arm knocked against the pedestal and the glass Orb trembled and fell with a crash against the floor.

There was a puff of glittery dust that obscured everything.

/EXCERPT

Witch King at Amazon

The maple trees are sending out little white and yellow specks of dust. Just a rippling tide floating out of the air. Tiny dry specks that can be blown away.

I should write that. A society so advanced they use plants to breed. Your DNA added to some beautiful tropical flower and allowed to pollinate other flowers. Then a zygote for human implantation or budding pops out. To walk in and see a baby suspended in a large pod, floating nourished in a fluid filled pocket.

It’s like Aeon Flux in the connection to nature.

I wonder why people don’t breed plants as organic machines.
Genetically modified to do whatever we want naturally.

I’m not seeing living spaceships quite yet — how long can a giant clam hold its breath? — but I can imagine sting shooter plants, oxygen mask plants that fit over your face, and living houses with edible carpet and walls (think Chia with like hemp seed worthy growth.) People would never have to be hungry or homeless again.

Of course, before we have a bunch of botany miracles we need to be able to handle our pesticides. Our worst science seems to be the unsafe testing of chemicals and the release of horrible toxins without knowing the results. So I could imagine the horror of coming back to your house dead, one side just withered and nearly burned away.

And if you had a plant house, you’d have to be careful what you ran down the drain. The house would use your gray water as nourishment, so you would have to watch what soaps you used to keep from killing it with chemicals. Maybe it would always be richly oxygenated too? Though hopefully not to spark equals explosion levels.

Honestly, the future seems scary to me.

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Read slashy plotty stories at Kimichee.

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“Heroes & Villains,” an mm superhero action adventure novel, is coming out August 14th from Less Than Three Press.

The typical story of a boy dreaming of being a superhero … Then getting pissed off and throwing it all away to become the world’s most legendary supervillain.

Darkstar x Blue Ice.
You know you want some.

Panoply at Amazon

There are times when I’m completely manic.

You don’t realize how powerful it makes you feel. It’s like the really good drugs … And just like them it’s super dangerous. Like careening off a cliff dangerous.

One minute it’s all laughter packed into your chest, everything looks vibrant and bright, and you’re completely in love with yourself. You look in the mirror and you’re just BEAUTIFUL and you feel STRONG. And you go out partying or whatever and it feels like you can do no wrong and nothing will ever be able to hurt you.

Then somehow, all unknowing, the world changes — or maybe it’s you. You’re the one that changed.

And for a little while everything is too bright and too frightening before shrinking down to an expanse of solid gray. It crushes in on you before you catch your equilibrium and for some length of what feels like forever, you’re completely broken off from all that’s good.

And it takes a while to recharge, to climb back up to the heights of magnificence. Sometimes the gray tries to cling to you, to take away your every joy. But you have to find something you love and cling to it.

You need a reason to stay strong for when you’re screaming from the rooftops or hiding in your cellar. A dog, a friend, a family, or a lover.

You need something. Or it drives you manic.