I love you dad

It's been a while, hasn't it?

Needless to say my absence this time was for a reason. Sadly, my father lost his battle to cancer in February this year, no more than a week after his 61th birthday. A bitter pill to swallow, and yet, I find myself taking it better than I should be in a sense.

A lot of people in my family are still struggling with the loss. I know I am in my own way, but I haven't gotten to the point of bursting into full tears about it. I cannot explain how I can feel like this, when everyone else doesn't. I worry though, does that make me a cold person? I hope not. I miss my dad greatly, I can still hear his voice in my head when I am about to do something. Still though, I can't explain this feeling.

Perhaps it was because I knew it was coming, I have prepared for it and already started to mourn my father when he was still alive. But, I also saw him when he began to grow weaker and struggled to even drink a small sip of water. It got to that point, he couldn't take it in, and most of the time coughed it back up. What kind of a life would that have been for him?

There were days where I wished he would have passed away, it got to the point that basic things he could do on his own, were no longer possible without help. I know my dad too. He is a strong, powerful and very stubborn man. He had pride in himself and a threshold for pain that none of us knew about.
He was always in pain, but not once did he show it. He would moan a bit in discomfort but make light of it. We knew though he was suffering, he was hurting. My family and I knew that the reason he stayed as long as he did with us was because we weren't ready to let him go just yet. Nor was he.

His health took a turn for the worst on Family day. (Canadian made holiday for those not familiar with it.) A week after his birthday. My mom woke up early that day when he said to her. "I can't breathe very well."

The whole house hold was woken up at three in the morning, probably earlier. We cleared a path, called 911 and got dad ready for the hospital.

We were pet sitting at the time, I took my dog and our neighbour's dog over next door. I merely watched on as my dad was carried into the ambulance...

I would be the last time I would ever see him.

I have lived with a guilt. I never got a chance to say good bye or that I loved him. I hope he knows that I love him with all my heart and every fibre of my being. He taught me so much when he had little. I will never forget his lessons and I can only hope to make him proud.

On a lighter note, my dad developed a sense of humour near the end. My mom followed him to the hospital in the car. When she got to his room, he did a sarcastic sniffling sound. She asked. "What's wrong?"

He pretended to be like a little boy, upset he didn't get his way. "They didn't put the sirens on for me!"

It took my mom back, but it made her smile. "Did you want the sirens on?"

His reply. "Well, it would have been nice!"

My God, Dad. Why did you get a sense of humour near the end of it all?

So with that, my father spent one night in the hospital, he asked time and time again to go home and have an oxygen tank on hand in case he loses his breath. The doctor refused and explained it would take a least a day to get it into the house. When the doctor spoke to my mom outside, he shook his head to her. My dad didn't know just how sick he was.

By 10:30 the next day, he was gone.

Out of left field, my dad passed away when he thought all he needed was a little bit of oxygen. He didn't get the one thing he wanted, and that was to be home when he passed away. But, I think it was better if he wasn't home when that happened.

Since his passing, I've been oddly at peace with it. My father didn't pass away as a man with tubes coming out of him, that would have been the last thing he would ever want to be remembered as. Instead, my dad passed with dignity in a sense. It is the only way I could look at it. It is the only way I can see comfort in it all.

I love you dad.

I miss you every day...

What is there to say?

Perhaps those who do read this will forgive my absence.

At the moment, I am going through a hell that I wouldn't wish upon anyone.

For a while, my dad hadn't been himself. It started this past summer. Ironically when I posted my last blog when he pulled something in his back, or so he said. For a while my family an I assumed it was just a stain in his back and it would go away. Problem was, it didn't. Then a small growth began to appear. For a while I would tell him he may want to have it looked at, but he insisted it was nothing. Perhaps a pimple or ingrown hair of sorts.
It didn't go away.
Instead he did go to a doctor and thought it was a cyst of some sort. He had it drained once and felt better.
Until it started to grow.

Long story short, what was on his back was a rare form of cancer. The doctors we spoke with don't have a clue as to what it was or how to really deal with it. From there, my dad wasn't getting any better. Now, he isn't getting any better. In fact it seems a plague has been casted upon him. He has cancer in his back and lungs, he was on radiation but had to stop since it caused him to develop a heart problem. He's been battling a rash that has no end, let alone not meaning. The hospital he is in is not doing him any favours.

I have reached a point where I want to yell, scream and cry all at once. Sometimes I think and silently hope there was someone stupid enough to try and give me a hard time or mess with me so much that I have to throw a punch.

I want to get this anger out of me. I want to express everything I have contained and held in my body and mind for so long. Yet find myself unable to.

Normally I am not one to cry, since I was young, I considered it a weakness. After all, I grew up getting bullied by people, and their one goal in which they never succeeded was to get me to cry. Any sort of tears would be their victory and kindling to do it all again before a larger crowd. They never succeed, they did however make me cold to the emotions of it. I've gotten to a point where I no longer can control it. I can't anymore.
It's hard to keep it together, especially at work. Today I had one of those days where I felt I couldn't be there. I managed to get through a few hours, thankfully one of my coworkers stepped up to help me when I needed it.

God, I don't ever want to feel this way. But there's no choice but to. I feel so helpless and powerless against this force called life. I want my dad to be with me far longer than this grim outlook I have right now. I don't know if I will get my wish, I don't know how much longer I have my dad for.

Since then, my writing has been on the back burner. It appears even my own characters and concepts understand that I don't really want to write their story now, not with what's going on. As much as I want to, I can't bring myself to write.

All I know is this, my father will live on in my books. One of my characters I proudly based off of me. My personality, but she is everything I wish I could be and become. A strong, proud woman who despite the fights she had to endure, she overcame them.

There is no one else I know in this world that is as strong as my father, besides of course my mother who has been at his side through and through. The fact that my dad endured months of being in pain, yet never let on to the family that he was. a few months ago I had to call an ambulance for him since he had trouble breathing. They gave him a pill to stop his heart so they could restart it again.
It didn't work, his heart never stopped.

I made him laugh when he came home after that incident, proudly stating. "Chuck Norris can suck it compared to you!"

Serious, Chuck Norris, you can suck it compared to my dad!

I do little things to make him laugh, even smile. My dad is stern and doesn't really allow himself to laugh, but when you catch him off guard and get him to, it's a moment you savour. You also enjoy the moment with him too.

I promise, I will try and do better with this blog. Please understand though from here until farther notice, my family will be coming first.

Never forget.

It's been a while.

Mythic Blood has be released for the world to read. Despite the setbacks and sadly roadblock, the book finally has it chance to be everything I hope for it to be.

Looking back though, I remember when this whole fascination with writing started. Today, I had a chance to revisit the one who ignited my passion. My former grade school teacher from grade 6 has moved on to a high school and is guiding students. But I will never forget what he has done for me. It was a simple assignment when I was young. We were told to make a how to take care of pet book, the catch was the animal couldn't be anything ordinary like a dog or cat. It needed to be exotic.

I chose a T-Rex.

Instead of a how to care book, I ended up writing a story about my experience taking care of a large dinosaur. It was so well received by not just my teach, but others as well. I went from class room to class room reading out loud my story. From then on I figured out I had something special.

My teacher however didn't stop there. He was trying to get the book published! He went as far as calling Scholastic books to see if there was any interest. I remember clearly talking to the people of Scholastic books, as they gently explained to me that they only publish books that won an award. I thought I had, since I was the only child in my class going from room to room reading aloud how to take care of a dinosaur!

Sadly, the story didn't get published, but I still have it.

Today I gave thanks to the teacher that started it all. Mr. Leonard, if you are reading this. You know I said it to you in person, but wish to say it again.

THANK YOU!

At a time where I felt I wasn't good at anything, came this magnificent gift. I could tell a story with some help. Since then, I have moved on and toned my craft with fan fiction stories, and now my first published work.

Would I have become a writer if this school project wasn't as good as I thought it was? Hard to say, but in my heart of hearts, I know that because of it, it sparked something. It sparked idea, passion and a means of escape when high school became somewhat of a personal hell. A story to lift my spirits with a life I wish I could have, but knew it wasn't possible. Yet when you see it on paper and could believe it could be, it made the world seem a little brighter. It was a land where those who did make fun of me, could never enter or change it.

An escape that became a passion, which brings me to here and now.

I have many other books in my mind, ready to be released. It will take time for them to get onto paper, but it appears that these stories have a bright future ahead of them.

I say this now to you who read this blog. Don't forget the teachers who inspired you. They are just as much part of your journey, I have one other I wish to meet, I just hope I can find her.

For now, I have thanked but one of many teachers who have inspired me.

I hope to thank the rest in the near future.

Until then...

Hurt and feeling broken

            Emotionally drained, and creatively crippled. It’s the best way to describe how I feel about now. It seems no matter what I try to do, no matter how patient I wait or understanding I am, I cannot feel any less than taken advantage of. I know and understand life happens, I live it too! And yet when one thing after another occurs beyond my control, I cannot help but feel helpless.

            In truth, I have had a quarter of my yearly income sink into my book for purposes of making it a better story, to have it become something more than I couldn’t bring it to be. Promise after promise was made, and I understood, I didn’t mind waiting a few weeks more, a few months more. Yet, when it comes down to the wire, when it was PROMISED to be completely… I felt betrayed.

            GREATLY betrayed.

            Did I not give enough notice? Was this all my doing?

            How could someone who has a book for nearly a year not have it ready?

            Am I nothing more than an unknown author, whose project could wait another day as other, more established authors get their work completed? Did they even really start on this project or was this a back burner deal? Was it because I had no choice but to pay in installments, and yet still worked my ass off to get the money to them as fast as I could with the sense that my work would be treated the same way?

            It has become a harsh lesson and experience for me. Whether or not I will be requiring this editor’s services again will depend on the book itself when it finally returns to my hands and I see a difference in it since sending it on its way. I have come close to breaking down in tears, for those who know me, it’s not something I do. Yet time and time again, I have come close. Even as I write this I can feel the tears welding in my eyes.

            Over 14 years of work, 14 years of my life has gone into that single book, that one piece of work. I only feel denied to have it.

            I cannot hold any negativity in this, it does me no good or anyone else. I will not go on and smear the name of the editor I hired. As I said, life happens and I do not hold it against them.

            I only wished that they didn’t constantly get my hopes up, make me promises not even they could keep. If they had too many project to do, I would have understood instead of preparing to have books ready for this single event I plan for months in advance.

             I have great intent on going to a local comic con this year with the book in hand to gain hopefully some sort of interest. I don’t even know if it will happen anymore. There are people I admired who never come to Canada, and yet they are here for the first time in ten years or so doing public appearances. The one time I have to give them a book as a thank you for the inspiration, the years of creativity and for being an unlikely muse.

            I may never get another chance like this.

            It was the whole reason I took time off of work, despite my hours no longer being there. It’s the reason why I paid the extra money to go for a day or two more in hopes of seeing everyone I wanted to see and giving my thanks. It is the one place I have on making connections and hope to farther my book for the better.

            I need a miracle.

            Simple as that.

            

Update!!

I never thought I would be on the other side of this kind of subject.

Before I got accepted for Mythic Blood, I found myself seeking any and all authors for advice as to what I should do, where to go and how to promote myself. Most recently though, I found myself on the other side, where people have come to ask me for advice and what they should be doing.

It’s rather interesting, so I thought I would share this with you.

After I got picked up for publication, I began looking into advertisement. Vista Print in my option has some of the best methods of promoting your work. Banners, business cards, postcards, magnets and so much more. Keep an eye on this site and subscribe to their emails. Some times they have AWESOME deals. One such instance was a .99 sale! Granted it’s .99 for a certain item and only one of them. But you can make multiple orders, and shipping isn’t bad.

Second, make certain your book is everything it is and can be. Most recently I had invested in an editor, even though my book is already out, it had come to my attention that some errors had slipped through the cracks. It was decided with agreement from my publisher that the book was in need of a redo. That has started, and the new version will hopefully be out by March.

It’s going to be a long and interesting year. I will be going to the World Horror Convention as a published author for the first time. I cannot wait on that, as well my publisher wants to have a convention for his authors in California. And I have a long overdue visit to my artist in France. He and his family have asked me for three years to come and visit, and I have yet to make it. This year though, I hope I will!

Speaking of my artist friend, Alexandre Tuis.

He has made the cover for the second book… oh… and the second book is due out sometime this year if you can believe it! But for now, here’s a teaser of GRIMSHAW!

let me assure you, when you see the full image of him, he will take your breath away!

But for now, this is all I have to offer. I hope you enjoy the update and perhaps a future post... I really should get back into blogging.

Until then....

News update

I should have written this a LONG time ago… well at least by the end of February.

            As I had mentioned in pervious blogs, I was waiting to see if my book, Mythic Blood was going to be picked up. I had submitted to a small press publisher in the states by the name of Black Bed Sheets. Well, near the end of February… I got the response.

            Mythic Blood had been accepted and would be released this fall!

            Man, why I delayed in telling you this to my… five blog readers… oh… right… you guys are on twitter and got the news there.

            Needless to say, I have been preparing now for what will come. I have already looked into marketing ideas, I have saved up money for the next Comic con in Toronto for 2013 and have looked into personalized M&Ms for marketing purposes.

            With that in mind, my focus has turned to the second book, and yet I have found myself in a little trouble with it, mainly the lack of inspiration to write it. Although, looking over it now, I see that I may need to remove some characters and save them for another story to tell. Until I can work out the kinks and see what can be done, the story has come to me in bits and pieces. Soon though, I hope to find my inspiration and have something second novel worthy.

            Believe it or not, the third and fourth book are nearly done! I have had the third one written for a while but haven’t touched it in a few years. Perhaps it’s time to look it over… once the second book is completed.

            Until then, I shall leave the blog as it.

            That is until I can get my ass in gear and write the second book! -.-

On my mind... and there's a lot.

Sometimes you just need to vent.

            I don’t know about you, but nothing makes me feel lower than learning that a new carpet is more important than health and safety of a worker at my work place. Just recently as you may have guess, we got a new carpet! Yet with the way our stock arrives (on skids that can be hundreds of pounds on a single load) is left down at the end of the hallway when it has to be taken across to the other side of the building.

            Before, it was placed before the doorways of the room they were destined to be in, since the deliveryman had an electrical lift to do it. But since the new carpet (that apparently costs 50,000 dollars) head office wants to keep it ‘in the best condition possible for as long as possible’.

            In other words, everything had to be moved by hand down a hallway on small carts and at least twenty trips.

            My brother works hard and normally he can get this done on his own in half the time when everything is where it needs to be. But now, my own workplace is more concerned about the damn carpet that WILL be thrown up on in just a matter of time, than to have the stock placed away properly, safety and more efficiently.

Nice to know where the employees stand on the ‘food chain’ of priorities.

            We’re below the carpet.

            Well I am going to sit down and see what I can write out tonight, to be honest, I haven’t written anything in a few months. Some other things have been on my mind, but it’s about time I sit down and start writing again. Who knows, it can be my way out!

            As an update, my campaign on Indiegogo has finished, I didn’t raise any donations, but I am not the least bit upset or concerned. Sometimes it’s best to do things yourself when you really want it. Besides, perhaps it means that I shouldn’t rush it.

            Recently I have sent the novel of Mythic Blood to Black Bed Sheets for consideration to be published for their 2012 line of books for the summer. Keep your fingers crossed for me and hope for the best. I really like what they have to offer and know the people who run Black Bed Sheets. They are more than willing to lend you an ear and give their honest opinion. Here’s hoping and I will keep you posted.

            Recently I have been painting masks for some of my vampire characters, some have turned out great, others I still think I need work on. But that’s what the masks are for, to better visualize the character and personality.

            On a recent note, one has really come to light! Thank to the lead singer David Draiman of Disturbed, quite frankly, I think this character is just for him! We’ll have to wait and see how that turns out, but inspiration can come from anyone and anywhere!

            I hope that my friends and readers in the States have a wonderful and joyous Thanksgiving. Here’s to you, and be careful when it comes to shopping on the black Friday deals!

            In the mean time, I have a free short story for you to read, it’s a lead up to Mythic Blood, it was once the prolog, but found it took up too much space and attention from the main story. I hope you enjoy, and comments are most welcomed.

The sample can be obtained through this link, or (believe it or not) Itunes! Click on the book section of Itunes and type in Shannon Lee or A taste of Mythic Blood. It’s free to download.

Until next time.